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#defending her honor as he should
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wonder-worker · 5 days
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"[Alice Perrers] requested that she be buried in the parish church of Upminster, St Laurence, before the altar of the Virgin Mary. Alice seems to have had an affinity with Mary through her life; a seal of hers from c. 1374 shows an image of the Virgin Mary and child, her tabernacle seized in 1377 had an image of the Virgin Mary on it, and now she wished to be buried before Mary’s altar."
-Gemma Hollman, "The Queen and the Mistress: The Women of Edward III"
#historicwomendaily#alice perrers#my post#I didn't know about this but it's so very intriguing#I wonder if Alice associated herself with Mary to try and assert her own 'quasi-queenship'#(ie: the most powerful woman in the country at the side of a king)#as Mary was obviously important element of queenly iconography in late medieval England#though on the flip side I suspect it would have also raised hackles that Alice - a commoner and royal mistress - was attempting#to present herself in such a way#it's especially interesting to consider in the context of Tompkins' argument that Alice was perceived as 'inverting queenship' (slay)#also this book was ... complicated.#It's very understanding and sympathetic and raised some very good points#but also tried to...massively soften Alice's actions and downplay her role and power in the process#(ie: defending her by diminishing her)#also there's this gem:#'Edward had been markedly restrained with the gifts and favour he had bestowed upon Alice' girl that is a flat-out lie#no other royal mistress of medieval England was ever given so much or honored in such a way.#yes we should emphasize Alice's own proactive role and intelligence in building up her vast estates#but even if that hypothetically hadn't happened#Edward's grants and gifts would have still made her extremely wealthy and powerful regardless#and was also weirdly obsessed with romanticizing Edward III and it got kinda questionable#like yes obviously I think we should ascribe more nuanced motivations and emotions to *Alice* than 'ambitious gold-digger#taking advantage of an aging king'#but I'm not fond of it veering too far on the other side either#I think sometimes we should simply be comfortable admitting when we simply don't know something
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gonnagobankai · 9 months
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I might be misremembering the order of things, but if they anthony had been slightly smarter and less hotheaded, couldn’t he have just pretended that actually he was out with daphne and simon and chaperoned?
Apart from anthony being pissed the actual biggest threat to them was that the blond mean girl saw them outside and could tell others. But given that anthony must have been outside at basically the same time and I presume must hold some level of trustworthy, it would have saved them all so much trouble
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sharkorok · 3 months
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ooo u want me so bad
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or…grumpy!enha being in luv w u
requested: nope
cw/genre: cursing, grumpy enhypen, fluff, humor, crack-ish, fem!reader, non-idol au, I wrote this during a zoom class, not proofread fuck it we ball, one joke about reader getting jumped?? anyways lmk if anything else should be tagged hehe
a/n: this was inspired by @macahoons grumpy enhypen texts that I just adored!!! Such a cute trope <3
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
heeseung
-he’s the basketball team captain, always idly boasting about his talents and loves being first place
-the only exception is you.
-he will never admit it but he absolutely lets you win every time you find him at the basketball court and u challenge him to some dumb scoring game where u see how many baskets u each can get
-“OMG HI HEESEUNG!! :3” when u find him at the basketball court and he sighs but he’s trying not to scream at how cute u r lowkey
-ur all giggly when u keep beating him “hee r u even trying?” “I’m just having a bad day don’t even” like he isn’t completely distracted by the way you look when ur grinning at him
-“I think I can take ur place as basketball team captain!” “In ur dreams??” but he’d gladly give it up if you would keep smiling like that
-insists on walking you home from the court because “I’m not gonna be held responsible for you getting jumped”
-and the next time you catch him on the basketball court it happens all over again! <3
jay
-you can’t even finish saying “I’m cold” before his jacket is over your shoulders and he’s scolding you for not being prepared
-sitting down and your skirt is riding up? his uniform blazer is over your lap and he’s shaking his head
-“what would you do without me??” “do you want your jacket back then , jay?” “…no”
-while it’s also because he cares about ur wellbeing, he also just really likes the sight of you wearing his clothes and you smelling like his cologne
-you literally walk into the room and he’s immediately “y/n you need to buy a thicker jacket you’re gonna get sick” not even a good morning or anything…
-“don’t tell people ur wearing my jacket I don’t want them to get the wrong idea 🙄” but lowkey he wouldn’t mind at all
-gets so (internally) giggly when u sink into his jacket because it’s chilly
-finds excuses u give u his clothes at this point …the tiniest piece of lint on ur shirt and he’s handing you his blazer
-“u can keep it ig”
jake
-gets you tiny gifts and acts like he just randomly found them
-he totally went out of his way to find you two matching keychains but he doesn’t wanna admit that
-“y/n I just randomly found your favorite seasonal pastry. no big deal. don’t thank me.”
-BUT HE ALSO KEEPS EVERY GIFT U GET HIM OMGEEE, he has a whole area on his desk dedicated to notes, trinkets, stickers, if you drew on his paper he’ll tear the section off so he can keep it LOL
-will never admit that. to anyone. but gets pressed if you give gifts to anyone else because that’s his y/nnie!! giving HIS gifts to some rando!! D: the cruelty!!
-gets sooo dramatic if he doesn’t get at least a little doodle he’s texting you like you killed a man
-one time his friend asked if he could borrow a pencil and he was like yea man sure and then realizing it was a pencil YOU!! gave him he snatched it back so fast trust
-he’s so cutie patootie but internally…4 now…
-wishes he could get over himself and kiss you all over when you shyly present a little plush toy you won at a claw game he’s RAHHHHH !!!
-for now he’ll stick to “thanks 😒”
sunghoon
-he’s really protective over you me thinks
-but he’ll be really quiet about it, maybe a girl makes you upset and he sees and he’ll “accidentally” knock over her bottled water on her notes, a guy is talking shit about you and sunghoon is squaring up in the courtyard no questions asked
-“sunghoon u dont have to protect me” “it’s not about you” even though it’s totally about you and he will die defending your honor
-one time on your walk out of school a tree branch poked you and u were all like “oh owie : o” and he was following behind before GLARING the shit out of that tree branch…
-another time this guy made a degrading comment about you and sunghoon managed to find receipts on him cheating on his gf and posted it on the school newsletter…cuz he’s silly like that <3
-honestly it’s a little scary the lengths he’ll go for you and still refusing to admit he’s doing it for you
-he’s not really good at comforting you when you cry, so he’ll make sure to protect you from anything that could make you cry
sunoo
-he’ll always listen to you
-if someone said “sunoo can u go grab me a drink from the vending machine” he looks at them like they’re insane but if YOU’RE asking??? he’s sprinting down the hallways
-“it’s literally just because ur lips get all chapped when your dehydrated don’t get an ego,” while he’s handing you like…water purified in Antarctica sourced from glaciers with a little paper umbrella
-even smaller things, he prioritizes your advice
-“guys should I have hot pot or panera for lunch?” and a rando will go, “panera!” and hes dead silent but you go “oh you should totally get hot pot!!” and he’s basically booking a reservation
-probably “accidentally” books a reservation for two and forces you to come since “it’s a waste of table space” if no one else does lol
-also if you don’t like someone he doesn’t like them either
-“sunoo are u friends with Ria?” “shes okay” “she said my makeup looked bad today :(“ and sunoo will act like he dgaf
-but next time you bring her up he scoffs and is all, “why even bother crying about her? she’s not worth your time and she’s annoying anyways” even though he’s never talked to this girl
-tldr ur word > anyone else
jungwon
-always speaks highly of you
-never to your face but he’ll always defend you when necessary, or speak up for you, or just praise you LOL
-“y/n actually scored higher than you, so idk why you’re bragging so loud” to some rando kid talking about test scores lmao
-or “y/n doesn’t like that snack get her another” when your friends are debating how to surprise you
-ur name is always in his mouth but positively LMAO
-brushes it off if you take note of this and says “people are just exaggerating, I barely talk about you, don’t get it twisted >:T” but everyone knows he’ll take any chance he can get to praise you
-“y/n is better tho” and everyone’s like?? who asked??
-it’s endearing but he doesn’t even notice it, he just is proud of you in every shape and form and since he can’t really express it around you he has to project it anywhere else he can hehe
-“jungwon do you think my hair looks okay?” says hee, looking for an actual answer. “y/n’s hair is nicer” responds jungwon, not missing a beat.
-“did you guys know y/n got a 100? isn’t she smart? don’t tell her I said that.”
niki
-does things for you without you asking and then acts like it’s a habit
-it is definitely not a habit for him to run out of his seat to pull out your chair for you, but he insists he literally does it for everyone (he doesnt)
-opens your capped drinks before handing them to you, stops you suddenly to tie your shoelaces, sends you photos of notes if you missed a day..
-“y/n you’d literally be hopeless without me” but he’d be hopeless if anyone else helped you because it’s his job!!
-it makes him feel special when he gets to do so many acts of service for you, for some reason he doesn’t mind running errands or whatnot, he’d much rather he be the one who does it than anyone else
-“y/n u forgot a hair tie today?? ur lucky I brought one” knowing damn well he brought it specifically for you ☹️☹️ cutie
-if the train is full you don’t even have to ask and he’ll let you take his seat “y/n you have weak legs, you need to sit”
-he secretly loves being someone you can rely on, no matter how much he denies it <3
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confessedlyfannish · 6 months
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DP x DC Writing Prompt #9
"Are you sure about this?" J'onn asks, reading the discontent amongst the Kents. Clark and Lois each have a hand on their teenage son's shoulders, who several weeks prior was aged ten years old.
"We're sure," Clark says. He is not, nor is his wife. But his son is, who lays his hand on his mother's and squeezes. It is that surety that J'onn honors as he delves into the young (but not as young as he should be) man's mind.
The memories are hard to find but not gone, hidden behind what Jon can only see manifested as a glowing green wall. When he raises a tentative hand, the shield sparks green, but does no harm. Pushing through is like wading through the consistency of jello, which he finds an overall unpleasant experience. But he is unharmed as he passes through.
Before J'onn can sort through the memories he is all but sucked into the one at the forefront, where a Jon most similar in visage to the one recently returned perches on the edge of a building. Beside him lies a burger, partially unwrapped though uneaten, and a small soda.
As the memory builds out a sun sets on a small suburban town, and a muscled thigh knocks into Jon's, an older man with a shock of white hair and eyes the same light and color as the shield formed around these memories appearing. He's tall even sitting, likely about as tall as Superman, and looks to be in his thirties. A full body suit comprised of black and silver accents stretches across broad shoulders, a stylized D on his chest. He knocks his thigh into Jon's again.
"You said I couldn't go back," Jon says quietly.
"I lied," the man says lightly.
"You're lying now," Jon says, glaring at him. "I can hear your heart."
"Nice try, kiddo, I don't have a heart in this form," the man says, reaching a hand out, presumably to ruffle his hair. Jon dodges.
"I know you're lying. You would've told me. You would've helped me get home."
"Jon--"
"You're protecting Clockwork, aren't you?" Jon demands, eyes beginning to burn red. "That old coot decided it wasn't enough to play with you, he had to play with me too."
The man slaps a hand over Jon's eyes. "Breathe, like we practiced," he instructs firmly. Steam rises from where his palm meets Jon's eyes, but if it hurts he shows no indication. "In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3."
Jon whimpers but heaves a breath, and the burst of red light dies down from between the man's fingers. His hand moves down to Jon's shoulder.
"I can't pretend to understand Clockwork's decisions," the man says, as tears begin to pool in Jon's eyes. "Frankly, I don't want to. I suspect they are hard decisions to make, sometimes."
"I don't get why you defend him," Jon says. "Dumbledore acting bastard."
"Language," the man says, lightly bopping him on the head. J'onn notes the boy actually winces, as if the blow hurts.
"I am upset with him, I hope you know that," the man continues. "But at the end of the day I'm also grateful. Because I got to meet you." He hooks an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him in. "And now you'll get to see your family again. And Sally, Arnold, and Damian!"
Jon sniffles, rubbing roughly at his face. He leans into the man's bicep. A trusted adult figure, then. One he's described his life to. A life, J'onn is sad to note, he appears to have lived for the past six years, as opposed to a sudden shift in appearance. Jon's next question all but confirm it: "Can I really go back? It's been so long. They'll be all grown up."
"Hey, of course you can," the man says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sure they've missed you so much. They'll be so happy to see you again."
Jon starts to smile. "I'm going home."
"You're going home!" The man laughs, shaking him.
"I can finally eat some decent barbecue again!"
"Hey!" the man protests, "The smoker blew up one time!"
Jon continues, beginning to get excited. "And Ma will make her jalapeño cornbread! I never could get it right, I can't wait for you to try it!"
J'onn notes the older man's smile fading, eyes growing sad.
"And Damian will definitely want to spar and oh, oh! With you on our side we can totally prank Batman! I bet Alfred will even help! And Mom gives the best hugs, Pops comes really close but Mom will be really excited to meet you, everyone will."
"Jon," The man says.
"I knew you'd be worried about it, but they'll want to meet you," Jon says, clocking his expression. "They'll be grateful. You, you helped me. You kept me safe and taught me how to be Superman. They'll love you, I promise."
"Jon, I can't go with you," the man says gently.
"I'm not saying you stay, but you can visit! I'm sure the Justice League can figure out a way to maintain a portal, they're super used to all that multiverse stuff. Once they have the coordinates, you can stop by whenever!"
"I can't go through the portal, Jon," the man says. "To other worlds, I'm a god. And gods can't interfere. The only reason I can continue to live here is because this is the world of my origin."
Jon gapes at him. "But--but,"
"You're going to see your Mom and Dad again," the man says. "And your brother, and grandparents."
"I can come here, then," Jon says desperately, pushing his way out of the man's arms. The man is already shaking his head. "I can!"
"You can't."
"Why, because Clockwork says so? He's a liar!"
"Because multiverse travel is never a good idea. If you got trapped here again--"
"I wouldn't,"
"You belong with your family,"
"You're my family!" Jon cries. The man freezes. "You, and Sam, and Jazz, and Tucker and Val and Ellie and Pops and Mads, you're all my family! I can't just leave you, I won't!"
"Oh kiddo," The man says, eyes wet. "I love you too. We all do."
"So I'll stay," Jon says decisively. "For all we know my world is a wasteland. Gramps wasn't exactly right in the head when I left. It's better to stay here."
J'onn notes a green vine unwinding from a nearby trellis. It slides down the eave towards the pair.
"You don't mean that," the man is saying.
"I'm sixteen. I can make my own decisions. I'm staying."
The man cups Jon's face. "Your parents did not have a choice in losing you. I'm willing to bet they're devastated. Because I'd be devastated, losing a kid as great as you."
"Maybe they're not even there," Jon says, but the words are half-hearted, and it clearly hurts him to say them.
"I know I seem like a pushover, but if I thought Clockwork was sending you back to anything less than your loving family, I'd destroy him first. And he knows that. They're going to be there, I promise."
"I don't want to go," Jon says. Behind him, the vine rises from the eave of its own will, poised like a cobra enchanted by a snark charmer.
"I know," the man says, eyes drifting to the vine. "I'm so sorry, Jon."
"For what?" Jon asks, as the vine attaches itself to the nape of his neck. His eyes roll back as he collapses into the man's arms. The man hugs him tighter than is strictly necessary.
J'onn expects the memory to now end, alongside Jon's consciousness. To his curiosity, it does not.
"For what it's worth," a young woman spits bitterly, vines supporting her weight as she slips over the side of the roof. "I still think this is horrible." Her eyes are red and miserable.
"Seriously, team punching Dumbledore in the face," A young black man says, appearing in the air supported by a woman almost identical in appearance to the man holding Jon, down to the suit colors. They land on the rooftop.
"Are you sure about this," the dark haired woman with powers over plants asks. "Because to be honest, Danny, I'm five seconds away from punching you in the face."
"Jazz won't speak to you for months," the girl, likely his sister, points out.
"Make it a year," the man says, crossing his arms.
The man, Danny, ignores them all. He cards a hand through Jon's hair. "He'll retain the experience, but not the memories?"
"Yes, he'll be a perfect little superhero, just as you taught him," the woman says, vines twisting agitatedly around her, wrapping around her thigh, wrists and neck almost punishingly.
"Sam," the man says. "He needs to go home. All of you know that."
"He doesn't have to forget us to do so!" the sister bursts, eyes flashing green.
"Remembering would be a torment," Danny says. "He'll know he was loved. That's enough."
"Danny," the plant woman says, sitting beside them both. She puts a gentle hand on his, both on Jon's back. "This is just a different torment."
"And if someone finds out?" Danny asks. He has been patient amidst their scorn, but now a tiny edge ekes into his voice. "A god's child, unprotected? Threatened? He would never stop looking for a way back, and being vocal about it could get him killed."
The others are silent.
"He'll be home. He'll be happy," Danny says. More powerful than a prayer. A directive. He raises his head past the child slumbering in his lap, past them all, face hardening, and says to J'onn: "And you will say nothing."
J'onn takes a step back, fear so thick he could choke on it flooding his very being. Thismanwillkillhim, thismanwillkillhim.
This man will reach through dimensions and kill him.
"Now, get the fuck out of my kid's head," Danny snarls. J'onn is pushed back with enough force he enters his own mind in a vicious whirl that leaves him physically on the floor, gasping.
"I'm sorry," he says as Superman rushes to lift him, and he's not sure who he's apologizing to. Green eyes will pierce his dreams. Vines will crush his throat in his nightmares, screaming silence, silence.
You will say nothing.
"I'm sorry," J'onn says, politely pushing Clark's hands away as he rises. He's already beginning to calm, because he understands. Those are consequences he will not face. He will do as directed. He looks at Jon Kent, bewildered but unharmed, clutching his mother's hand.
J'onn reaches down and dusts at his pants. "I'm sorry," he says evenly, ready to spin his tale. Perhaps the Kents will continue to seek their answers. Perhaps not. He will stay out of it either way. He has been warned.
You were loved by gods. And to keep you safe, they would quiet us all.
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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year
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Your wolf king husband defends your honor
General Plot: A visiting king and his son start trouble with Joel and Sterling
Wolf King (Sterling) x female bunny reader
Word Count: 2.5k
💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕
W: sfw werewolf fluff, some fighting
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“I’m going to grind you into mush!” Joel shouted and your attention flickered from the servant holding china patterns for you to choose across the garden where he should have been playing. 
“Joel! Get off of him!” you howled as you rushed across the lawn in your fluffy dress. You hurriedly tried to peel your newly adopted son off of the lion cub he was pummeling. Hearing your voice he threw another solid punch into the cub’s nose before standing in front of you defensively, growling and frothing at the mouth. 
“She’s not a real queen!” the lion cub, who happened to be the son of a visiting King pouted, smearing the blood that was running down his nose across his face. Joel had done a number on the slightly larger cub, leaving him with a big black eye in addition to the bloody nose. 
“I’m telling my father! We’ll- we’ll go to war with you and then I’ll eat her for dinner!” he cried as he ran away. 
You sighed watching the little prince go before turning your attention to Joel. 
“Baby, what’s going on?” you asked, turning his face to you to examine the little scratches the cub had given him trying to fight back. 
“He said you’re not my momma and that a herbivore can’t even be Queen, but he’s wrong. You are Queen and you are my momma!” 
You sighed, pulling him into your skirt and giving him a hug before reprimanding him. 
“While I agree with you,” you stated, “being a Prince means you have to use your words not your fists. You can’t start a whole war over me!”
He pouted up at you. 
“Yes I CAN!” he snapped back at you. 
You frowned and he at least looked a little contrite. 
“Do not raise your voice at me Joel,” you said firmly. 
He pouted but nodded. 
“Now let’s get you to the doctor to look after your cuts,” you said, taking his hand and leading him out of the castle garden. 
“He doesn’t know anything,” Joel said to you, squeezing your hand as you made your way through the castle, “he’s just a stupid lion. If he starts a war with me, I’m starting a war with him and MY daddy will win!” 
“There will be no wars,” you assured him, carefully hiding your smile. It was sweet that he was so protective of you. He’d declared himself your hero and went all around the castle correcting anyone who dared disrespect you. 
“We still have to have dinner with King Harold and his son this evening. It’s your duty as a prince to receive your guests with kindness and grace.” 
“But he disrespected you!” he argued. 
“Lots of people disrespect me, but I don’t go around punching every one of them in the nose!” you replied. 
He laughed. 
“Of course not! You’re a bunny! That’s my job! I’m a strong wolf. I will protect you.”
You wouldn’t lower his self esteem telling him he wasn’t quite a strong wolf, yet. 
“Sometimes we can protect people with words,” you explained, “you don’t have to fight everyone.” 
Joel bit his lip and you hoped he’d heard what you were trying to teach him as you showed the doctor the cuts and bruises he’d gathered. 
“How dare you?!” a high pitched voice echoed in the doctor’s office and a very angry looking lion Queen came barging in holding the lion prince in her arms as if he were just a baby despite his size. Her eyes immediately focused on you as you placed yourself between her and Joel. 
“That child is a monster! Look what he did to my boy!” she snarled and the sniveling prince peeked out over her arms looking as pathetic as he could, “he’s just like his mother! Unhinged! Unstable! A complete disgrace!”  
You had to hold in your sigh as the little boy appeared to be just fine, just with a few bruises, but everyone knew about Joel’s biological mother. How she’d gone mad and tried to set the castle on fire, in the end killing herself and several servants. She’d never been well liked to start with. She was a cruel wolf despite Sterling’s attempts to tame her and her legacy hung over Joel like a dark cloud. 
“I'm very sorry Amelia,” you said trying to placate the visiting Queen, “the boys were just roughhousing and I think things got out of hand. Joel is very sorry.”
“No I’m not!” Joel announced from behind you.  
“Well of course the boy is running wild with a weak mother…if I can even call you that!” she snapped, glaring at you, “and it’s QUEEN Amelia to you.” 
You tried not to narrow your eyes at her, Joel was technically in the wrong, but the little cub should have been well trained enough not to insult another prince in his own castle. Trying to be diplomatic, you brushed the insults away, turning your attention to the doctor. 
“I think he’s finished with Joel, Amelia,” you said evenly, “let’s have the doctor have a look at those bruises. I’m sure a lion cub can withstand a couple of bumps, don’t you? Or is Joel that much stronger than him?”
Amelia looked like she would have eaten you whole if she could, but you didn’t bother sticking around to continue taunting her, picking Joel up and plopping him on the floor so you could guide him out of the doctor’s office.  
“I told you lions are jerks,” Joel pouted as you made your way to your living quarters, hoping to keep the precocious pup occupied until dinner. 
“It’s not right to say all lions are jerks, you don’t know all lions,” you said and then gave him a little smile, “only she is a jerk.” 
Joel grinned up at you and you gave his hand a conspiratorial squeeze. 
Dinner started about as well as you had expected, which was not great. Amelia shot lasers at you from across the table, while Joel made faces at the little lion cub, whose name was Harry, after his father. 
“The chicken is dry, take it away and bring me another,” Amelia complained to your servants and with a flick of your eyes you gave your servant your approval to replace it. 
It had taken some time for the carnivores in the castle to accept you as their Queen, but the herbivores, which made up most of the staff adopted you immediately, thrilled to have a bunny represented in the aristocracy. They were always hovering around you, worried that you weren’t being cared for properly. 
A sheep servant gracefully set a new plate of chicken in front of Queen Amelia and you smiled your thanks. 
“I heard the boys had a bit of a tussle today,” Sterling said as he worked on his steak and you winced, hoping no one would bring it up. 
“Yes,” Amelia snarled, “your brat attacked my son and his so-called mother did absolutely nothing about it!” 
“Well of course not, Amelia,” Harold spat, “she’s just a bunny with a crown, what do you expect her to do with a wild wolf pup? He needs a carnivore mother to keep him in line.” 
“Maybe the boy is just too young to play with Joel,” Sterling commented, “Joel’s quite a bit stronger. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt the young prince. He just doesn’t know his strength and didn’t realize he needed to be delicate with him.” 
“Are you implying my son is weak?!” Harold snapped. 
Sterling shrugged.
“I’m only stating the obvious,” he said, “your boy lost the fight, he’s clearly not at Joel’s level.” 
Harold’s eyes flashed and his fork dropped. 
“My boy is NOT weak! Your son is a little monster, just like his mother,” he snapped. 
Sterling held back a growl, but he bared a sliver of fang. 
“His mother is sitting at the table with us and she is very gentle, I assure you,” he said, glancing over at you. 
You gave him a small pleading smile to stop this nonsense, but he only winked at you. 
“It’s unnatural,” Harold growled, “a herbivore mothering a carnivore…” 
“Your son’s nanny is a herbivore, is she not?” Sterling went on, poking the proverbial bear, “I’m sure she does more mothering than Amelia. I’m told she spends most of her time drunk…that’s probably why your son is so weak. He’s got poor role models.” 
Amelia growled, but it couldn’t be denied that she’d already had a whole bottle of wine by herself, not to mention whatever she drank before dinner. 
Trying desperately to guide the conversation elsewhere you inquired after Amelia’s meal. 
“Is the chicken better?” you asked, looking up from your mushroom bolognese. 
“No,” she snapped, “but of course a staff full of herbivores wouldn’t know how to cook meat properly. It’s disgusting. You should have carnivore cooks.” 
She glared at Sterling. 
“Are you letting this silly herbivore drain this castle of what’s left of its dignity?” 
“Queen (Y/N) has arranged a healthy, delicious meal that suits our tastes just fine,” he snapped, “perhaps the wine has dulled your senses.” 
“What are you implying?” Harold growled. 
“I’m not implying anything,” he snapped back, “I’m very clearly stating that your drunk wife can’t taste anything but spirits. Our cooks can’t perform miracles!” 
At that Harold jumped up from the table and bared his teeth. 
“Say that again, I dare you!” he snarled. 
“Your wife is a lush, and that’s why your son is soft,” he hissed back. 
You quickly looked at Joel who was watching the whole interaction with interest. When you glanced back Harold was flying across the table at Sterling, who was happy to receive him with a punch to the jaw. The two of them hit the ground in a pile of fists and fur and you quickly gathered Joel as your guards surrounded the two of you. 
For his part Joel was cheering his dad on, grinning from ear to ear. 
You couldn’t help but be frightened by the fight, but Sterling was significantly more fit than the lazy lion king and quickly had him pinned, while the rest of your guards surrounded Amelia and her son. Sparing the children the sight of his throat being ripped out in front of them, Sterling had the foreign king arrested and taken to the dungeon, while his wife and son were sequestered in their quarters. 
“What sort of example are you setting for Joel?” you pouted as you swabbed one of Sterling’s cuts with some cleanser, “I just got done telling him he can’t fight everyone!” 
He gave you a big grin. He didn’t need you to patch him up, but he liked when you did. So he’d forgone the doctor and you were standing in his bedroom while he sat on his bed applying ointment to his cuts. 
“He came at me first!” he argued, smirking at you, “I had to defend myself!” 
You crossed your arms and gave him a look. 
“You provoked him and you know it!” you said. 
He snorted and waved his hand, sweeping you towards him by the waist with the other. 
“He provoked me,” he said, one hand drifting up to play with your ear, as he seemed to like to do, “no one insults my Queen and the mother of my child and certainly not in my own castle.” 
“Fine,” you said, sighing, “but what now? You’ve probably started a war!” 
He shrugged. 
“We were going to war anyways. They came here with a bad attitude, intending to start trouble, not to make peace.” 
His fingers dropped to cup your chin. 
“And it was worth every lick to defend your honor.” 
Your cheeks warmed and you fluttered your eyelashes finding somewhere else to look.
“I’m not worth a whole war,” you muttered, focusing on his shoulder and brushing off a bit of dirt. 
He made a noise in the back of his throat. 
“Look at me,” he said a bit more gently, holding your chin between his large fingers he met your eyes with his shining black orbs, “you are worth this whole kingdom and more. You’re the glue that holds this family together and always have been, since Joel was just a baby and Gina…It doesn’t matter what you eat or what kind of teeth you have. You’re worth a thousand of those lions.” 
You balked a bit that Sterling didn’t even refer to her as Joel’s mother anymore. 
“I can’t do what I need to do without you and I don’t want to,” he went on, focusing on you again, “you are everything to me and Joel.” 
He leaned in to you and brushed his lips over yours. You gasped into his mouth as this was the first physical affection he’d shown you since you’d become Queen. You didn’t think romance would be part of your new job, that it was all just for Joel’s sake, but your heart pounded in your chest as warmth spread over you. He gave you another light kiss and leaned back to look at you, fingering your long ear gently. 
“So yes, I will take an insult to you as if I’d been insulted personally and I will defend you until the day I die,” he promised, squeezing your waist and holding you to him, “even if I have to go to war to do it.” 
Then he winked at you, his usual mischievousness returning. 
“And don’t bother fussing about it,” he said, “we’re going to show those lazy lions exactly how wolves protect what’s theirs, and we’ve already captured their King, so I anticipate it will be short. You’re a strong, elegant, beautiful Queen and the people love you. Don’t ever doubt yourself.” 
You nodded a bit weakly at him, a smile sneaking its way onto your lips. He gave you a gentle look and smiled back. 
“Momma! Did you see how Daddy took down that stupid lion!” Joel exclaimed, barrelling into the room, oblivious to the rising tension. 
“Yes, I saw,” you sighed, gathering Joel in your arms and giving him a little smile, “your father is very, very impressive and we are lucky to have him.”  
tag: @pinkrose1422
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
Text
Incorrect Quotes - Part 2
All of these were taken from Pinterest - again, I am not this funny
Special thank you to @sinfully-yoursss for asking for another one!
Max: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch?  Y/n: Sometimes I whine like a BIG bitch 
Arthur (propping his feet up on a table): So, I heard you like bad boys Y/n: What? No??? Arthur (immediately taking his feet off the table): Oh thank God, that felt terrible 
Christian: Where’s Y/n and the child?  Toto: Y/n is teaching him how to drive Christian: Y/n never learned to drive??????
*Meanwhile*
Y/n: So there’s two pedals. Sometimes three but you can ignore the left one  Kimi: I don’t think…. Y/n: the lines on the road are more like suggestions than anything, like the speed limit Kimi: Are you positive that… Y/n: I’m not sure how to turn on the blinkers. Ready?  Kimi: Uhhhhh Y/n (shouting): GO GO GO GO  Kimi (screaming) *floors it* 
Nurse: I’m sorry sir, we can only allow family to see Miss L/n at this time  Christian: bold of you to assume I won’t legally adopt her right now  Y/n (sleepy, inside the hospital wing): you tell ‘em dad! 
Max: Your honor, my client is ready  Judge: And what does the defendant plead?  Max (mouthing the words): not guilty  Y/n (squinting at Max): hot milky Max (facepalms): take her away 
Y/n: Deck the halls with crippling depression  Charles: Fa la la la la, la la la la  Y/n: ‘Tis the season for emotional suppression  Arthur: Fa la la la la, la la la la  Max (passing through): what??? 
Y/n (on the phone): Hey Lance, can Arthur and I borrow $5000?  Lance: Why the hell do you need $5000?!  Y/n: For an escape room.  Lance: What kind of escape room costs 5 grand??  Y/n:  Y/n: Jail.
Max (answers phone): hello?  Y/n: It’s Y/n Max: What did she do this time  Y/n: no, it’s me, Max  Max: what did you do this time 
Y/n (on the floor): Go on…without me! Lando (crying while kneeling beside her): No! We can get through this together, just like we always do!  Y/n: There’s no time! You must defend our honor. Don’t let my death be for nothing!  Lando (sobbing): I can’t do this without you!  Y/n: Goodbye, old friend….(goes limp) Oscar (whispering to Max): They do realize this is just a dodgeball game, right?   Max (aiming at Lando): Oscar, this is war. Show no mercy. 
Oscar: One day, someone will think about you for the last time in eternity. You will be forgotten by the world  Y/n: not if I eat the Mona Lisa 
Yuki: I’m small but knowing  Y/n: You don’t be knowing what the top shelf looks like  Yuki:  Y/n:  Yuki: Bitch 
Y/n: Go big or go home! Vito (tears in his eyes): I am begging you, Y/n. For once in your life, go home. Just this once. Go. Home.  Y/n: I’m gonna go big
Y/n: I will do a lot of thing. But admitting I’m cold to Max after he told me to bring a jacket isn’t one of them 
Max: I sleep with a knife beside my bed  Carlos: I have a machete under my bed  Logan: I have a gun under my pillow  Arthur: Weak. Pathetic. All of you  Max: And what deadly weapon do you sleep with?  Arthur (putting on shades): Y/n 
Arthur: I will speak French between your legs  Y/n: That is the hottest thing I’ve ever been told  Lando: I’m just imagining someone screaming “Bonjour” to a dick Daniel: SACRE BLEAU MADEMOISELLE HON HON HON TITTY CROISSANTS  Logan (wheezing): TITTY CROISANTS  Max: None of you should ever be having sex 
Y/n: Hey do you know anyone who can teach me how to play the trumpet?  Alex: Why? Y/n: I wanna wander around the paddock and annoy Esteban  Logan: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play it for that  Y/n: You have opened my eyes Logan 
Max (not looking up from his book): what did he do now?  Y/n: HE SMILED  Max: At you?  Y/n: No, at Oscar and Ollie but HE LOOKS LIKE AN ANGEL  Max: go away  Y/n: shut up, I watched you pine over Charles for months – let me have this  Max: carry on 
Arthur: I came up with a brilliant idea for a prank  Y/n: Ooh, what is it?  Arthur: We should kiss.  Y/n: …I don’t get it  Arthur: Think about it! Imagine Max and Charles come into the garage, only to find us making out, hands all over each other. You can sit in my lap and we’ll really just go to town. Max will be like “WHAAAAAAA” and Charles might even faint!  Y/n: Oh, that’s hilarious! We totally should 
Esteban: The math problem isn’t so hard, it’s just a simple repetition of-  Y/n (frustrated): You’re a simple repetition  Esteban:  Y/n:  Charles: Did Y/n really just hurt Esteban’s feelings  Max: I’m so freakin proud 
Y/n (googling): snake bite leg what to do  Google: elevate and apply pressure  Y/n (lifting the snake really high): apologize or else 
Y/n: with all due respect  Y/n: Y/n: which is none 
Toto: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Kimi: Maybe a little tipsy?  George: Drunk.  Y/n: Wasted.  Lewis: Dead. 
Esteban: Could you at least try to be nice?  Y/n: You’re still breathing. That’s me being nice. 
Oscar: Hey do you have a bag I can borrow?  Zhou: The only bags I have are the ones under my eyes, and they’re specifically designed to carry the burden of my existence  Oscar: Literally all you had to do was say no 
Max (at Y/n’s funeral): Can I have a moment alone with her?  Arthur: Of course *leaves*  Max (leaning over the coffin): Now listen, I know you’re not dead  Y/n: no duh 
Y/n: Ow!  Oscar: You dislocated your shoulder. Want me to pop it back in?  Y/n (grimacing): Yeah…okay Oscar: All right, on 3….0, 1 *pops shoulder back in*  Y/n: MOTHERFU- WHO THE HELL STARTS AT 0 
Yuki: Hey Y/n, did you eat all the powdered donuts?  Y/n: …No?  Yuki: Then what’s that white powder on your pants Y/n (panicking): cocaine
Y/n: Max, I think you should play the role of my father  Max: I don’t want to be your father Y/n: That’s perfect. You already know your lines 
Lando: Can I be frank with you guys?  Y/n: I don’t know how changing your name is going to help us here, but sure?  Charles: Wait, can I still be Charles?  Oscar: Shh, let Frank speak. 
Lewis: I have a bad feeling about this.  Y/n: What do you mean?  Lewis: Don’t you ever have that little voice in your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?  Y/n: no  Lewis: That explains so much 
Y/n: What do you call a fish with no eye (i)?  Oscar (not looking up from his book): myxine circifrons Y/n:  Y/n: fsh  
George: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?  Y/n: Figuratively or literally?  George: Y/n, honestly, the fact that I have to specify 
Mitch: I know you took the last Red Bull Y/n Y/n (internally): play dumb  Y/n: Who’s Y/n?  Y/n (internally): not that dumb! 
Y/n: Big mood  Fernando: What does that mean…big mood?  Y/n: Uh well, it kind of means like, me too, I guess  Fernando: Thanks 
*1 week later before a race in the rain* 
Oscar: I’m kind of worried about this race guys  Fernando: Big mood, Piastri, big mood  Oscar: Y/n what did you do? 
Charles: What’s worse than a DNF at a home race? Y/n: realizing that dragons can’t blow out their birthday candles  Charles:  Charles: mate 
Y/n: You know what? Underneath it all, you’re actually quite nice  Max: Repeat that disgusting slander and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers 
Carlos: Now that I have explained the answer to this problem to you for ten minutes, do you understand?  Y/n: Yes.  Carlos:…Are you lying to me?  Y/n: Yes. 
Christian: Y/n, it’s your turn to give the pre-race talk  Y/n (claps hands): Fuck shit up, hit some barriers, run Charles off the road, don’t die  Max (proudly): succinct and informative 
Max: The FIA really seems to hate us  Charles: Maybe they’re homophobic  Max: We’re not a couple Charles  Charles: We’re not  Y/n: You’re not? 
Vito: Why is Y/n in the bathroom on the floor crying?  Max: She’s drunk  Vito: And? Mitch: She heard that Arthur has a girlfriend  Vito:…but she is Arthur’s girlfriend  Max: Yeah, we know that 
Max (wears lighter skinny jeans and a brighter blue Red Bull polo) Y/n: I see you’re busting out the spring colors 
Oscar: How do you two normally get out of these types of messes?  Lando: We don’t.  Y/n: We just make a bigger mess that cancels out the first one 
*Valentines Day* 
Arthur (reading Y/n’s texts): Y/n just said she’s going to give me 102 minutes of pleasure tonight Max: Oh wow
*Later watching Cars 2* 
Y/n: You look disappointed 
Y/n: Chillax!  Oscar: that’s not a word  Y/n: Sometimes the ones who deny “chillax” are the ones who need to chillax the most
Y/n: You know, water is pretty crazy. It can boil you to death, freeze you to death, drown you, or spin your car out of control, throw you into the barriers and kill you. But you still need it to survive  Max: Y/n, I love you, but its 3 AM 
Christian: Y/n, a word.  Y/n: BALLOON 
Max: I have the sharpest memory! Name one time I forgot something  Y/n: You left Charles in a Walmart like three weeks ago  Max: I did that on purpose, try again 
Vito: Y/n isn’t answering her phone  Arthur: I’ll call  Vito: Max and I have both tried, along with everyone else on the grid. What make you think she’ll answer?  *Calls her anyway* Y/n: Hello? 
Y/n: Oi, where’s your boyfriend?  Max: Who?  Y/n: Charles, where is he?  Max: He’s not my boyfriend Y/n: Have you told him that? 
Fan: Max, what motivates you?  Max: My ambition and desire to push forward no matter what  Fan: Y/n, what about you?  Y/n: An unhealthy mix of spite, pettiness, the thirst for vengeance, and pure, relentless rage. That and a Red Bull in the morning 
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri
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kaciebello · 1 month
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Us before you and me
Masterlist
Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem)
Summary: Luke and the readers’ relationship before they became a couple. Luke is an absolute loser when it comes to crushes.
Warning: no use of y/n, luke is a total looser
author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (T▽T)
word count: 1,3k
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Luke Castellan was 14 when he came to the camp, and he was sad. Not only did he just lose a friend that turned into a tree, but he had to pretend to like his dad. Now that he was 15, his mind was somewhere else, his friends to be exact. He tried to make friends with everyone. But these two in the Hermies cabin just caught his eyes. They argued all the time it was almost unbearable, and yet they refused to sleep anywhere but next to each other. It has been a few months since they got here, and somehow their banter has extended to him.
So now that he and Chris were watching the Aphrodite girlies, he had turned him out. He was talking about something Luke did not care about. He only started to pay attention when he slapped him. Luke gave him a confused look.
“You're not even looking man,” Cris says.
“Because it's creepy!” Luke argues back. It was creepy, they disguised themself as resting campers next to the Aphrodite cabin. To him, and everyone else, it looked like Cris just discovered what a woman is. Granted, they just turned 15, so he is certain with that. Luke couldn't bring himself to care. When he thought about girls only one face came to his mind, and he was not about to confess that to his friend.
“Don't you see them! They look good!” Chri says back. 
“I like someone already.” Chris looks at him with a deadpaned look. Absolute silence. Maybe Luke really should not have said anything. According to Chris, Luke could have anyone in the camp. Even crowing him as the heartthrob of the camp.  Luke tried to move on as fast as he could from this conversation, however, Chris's attention was sparked, and would not let go of the conversation.
They kept going back and forth and none of them noticed a familiar girl come their way.
“ Stop spying on the aphrodite cabin like they are some prey!” She says, effectively tearing them out of their argument.
“ Prey?? What are we? Animas?” Luke was quick to defend himself. He didn't even want to be here.
“ Not you, you raging virgin,”  Chris says and gives him a side-eye. The girl just rolls her eyes. 
“I'm not a virgin!” Luke's voice cracked, not something he wanted to happen while defending his honor. His eyes snap to the girl, hoping that she would believe him. But she looked like she wouldn't even believe he had hair on his head. Luke signs defeat. There is no winning in this. He just has to come to terms with the fact that his crush thinks he's a total loser.
When Luke turned 16 he realized he wanted to look ripped. And he wanted to do you to get girls, well a specific one but he will not say that aloud. He will tell you he just wants to be a better hero with glory and all that. However Luke was 16, and he had no better idea than to practice in front of his crush.
He was nervous. Sweating. He couldn't tell if it was from the sword fighting or her. She was just sitting down and looking at him. His heart was beating way too fast for his liking. So he was very glad when his opponent called it quits and he could rest.
He went and sat down next to the girl. She smiled and handed him a towel and cold water. He rolled his sleeves up his shoulders to feel some of the cold air. The girl had to do a double-take at him. He could see her in the corner of his eye looking at him. He flexed his arms just a little.
“ Exposing your biceps like that? What a slut.” She says. His eyes widen for a second before he composes himself. He turns to her with a smirk on his face.
“ You like that don't you.”  That stopped her in the tracks. He could practically see the clogs turn in her head.
“Maybe I do.” She says, her eyes fixated on his arms. Luke went red and looked away. He could feel her arm on him as she studied his mussels. He let her arm wander, they were seemingly in their world.  Her arms slip to his chest. He looked down and then back to her.
“ I know my pecs are big but can you stop objectifying me?” The girl stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Nah.” With that, she just continued to feel him up. He just let her.
Luke was 17 when one of his closest friends was claimed by Hades and had to move out of the cabin into a small room above the medical storage unit. He helped her move the stuff, not that she had much but still. When he walked into the room he saw her standing with Chris, who upon seeing him gave him a smirk. Luke sat the bag down and turned around to see Crish walking out giving him a wink.
Luke turned to the girl with a confused look. She just shrugged and thanked him for bringing the bag. He could feel the tension in the air. Luke looked around the room. It wasn't big, but it was something, and first and foremost it was private. Not something he could say about his bed. He looked at the girl again. She was not sporting a black camp shirt instead of an orange one. Fitting for a Hades kid. 
When his eyes got to her face his heart jumped to her throat for a bit. She was looking at him with a sheepish smile. 
“So Chris said-” Right then and there he knew. He knew his friend had said something he shouldn't.
“Don't believe Chris !” He yelped and grabbed her hand. Silently he begged her to forget whatever the boy told her. She raised her eyebrows at him.
“ So you don't get a major ‘love boner’ every time you see me?” A whine lest Luke's lips.
“Why did he have to put it like that.” He says his voice high-pitched. The girl just let out a laugh.
Luke was 18 when he confessed. He was 18 when she confessed back. And he was 18 when he kissed his crush of 4 years.  He was 18 now lying in the Hermes cabin looking at the ceiling dreamingly. He could only remember what her hands and lips felt on him. The other 3 boys were taking none of that.
“He's a mess. Like mess mess.” Says Connor looking at his counselor with a weird look, before turning to his twin who wore a similar expression.
“ Mess in distress but still the best dressed?” Answered Travis. He has been cursed by one of the Apollo kids to say things that rhyme but not really.  It's been going on for a week now with no sign of going away.
“He's definitely not blessed dresses, I can tell you that.” Says Chris sitting at the foot of Luke's bed cleaning his nails.
Lukes wasn't paying them attention. He finally achieved what he wanted since 15.  He could handle the teasing if it meant he could sneak into her room after calling lights out. One of the twins poked him in the ribs but he just swatted them away.
He could hear them say he was gone, but the only thing he could think about was his girlfriend. 
It was a year later when he was 19 and risked everything.
457 notes · View notes
hero-hoe · 2 months
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Older!Husband!Price with a Younger!Wife who lovingly calls him "old man" whenever he calls her "little girl".
Older!Husband!Price who comes back from deployment early to his Younger!Wife asleep while watching true crime podcasts. He doesn't understand the new generation and how they think murder is entertainment. Especially since his precious girl worries every time he has to leave and makes sure he leaves his actions at the door.
Older!Husband!Price who huffs and puffs and complains whenever his Younger!Wife wants to go on young people dates. What the hell is a ramen conveyor belt and why are you trying to convince him its better a classic home cooked meal.
Older!Husband!Price who has fought the worst of the worst, but can't stand his ground against puppy eyes and a cute stuffed animal.
Older!Husband!Price who reminds you that he is, in fact, nearly old enough to be your father whenever you "jokingly" call him Daddy.
Older!Husband!Price who makes you sit in his lap and catch him up on all the drama after a long deployment he'd rather just forget. Yes, of course your ex-bestie was out of line for calling him a GILF. He was still DILF age, thank you very much. What a lovely girl you are for defending his honor.
Older!Husband!Price who loves how young you make him feel, but hates that he understands the damn internet lingo you've taught him. Hates that he understood what Gaz meant when he said he was craving a "glizzy" while they were knee deep in mud and hours away from civilization.
Older!Husband!Price who thinks about letting you make him a father more often than a man of his position should.
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puckinghischier · 5 days
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Prison For Life
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Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary: anon request for a luke fic based on olivia rodrigo’s “prison for life”
notes: not gonna lie, y’all, i’m not too happy with how this one turned out, but i got tired of trying to re-write it, so here it is. as usual, hope you enjoy.
[1.7k]
~
I’m a feminist, obviously
But I wouldn’t really mind him saving me
You had always been the type to handle your own problems. A guy that doesn’t know how to take no for an answer? You knew exactly how to bruise his ego enough to have him tuck his tail and run away. Someone getting too handsy while you’re out with your friends? A swift elbow to the gut will do it every time. Grown man yelling at yourself or your friend over virtually nothing? Ask him why he feels the need to yell at women to compensate for the fact his mother didn’t love him as a child. It was too easy, really.
You never hesitated to run to the defense of your friends anytime they needed, getting a rush out of watching men deflate at your comments.
That is, until you met Luke.
Your relationship with Luke caused you to discover you actually enjoyed having someone rush to your defense, for once.
The first time you felt the unmistakable burn in your stomach at the act of Luke rushing to defend your honor was when the Devils were playing against the Flyers in the stadium series. You were in awe of the sight before you, the Metlife stadium alive with the screams and cheers of nearly 83,000 hockey fans. You were down near the ice in a designated viewing area for friends and family of the players, ready to cheer on your boyfriend in one of the biggest games of his career so far.
You were walking over towards the Devil’s bench, wanting to wish Luke good luck before the team returned to the locker room after warm-ups, when you heard someone shout out to you.
“C’mon, sweetheart! You can do better than that! You’d look so much better in Orange!” a man standing near the Flyer’s benches grabs your attention, your head snapping in the direction of the noise.
“Excuse me?” You responded back, disgust showing in your tone and on your face.
“The jersey, sweetie! You know he’s got about a million other puck bunnies fawning over him, right?” He calls back, referencing the Hughes jersey you’re wearing for Luke. “Maybe you should come sit with us! We’ll show you what a real hockey team looks like. And if you’re still not convinced after the game, I can think of a few ways to persuade you!” The heckler continued, elbowing the man next to him in the ribs, winking dramatically at you.
Is this really happening? Is a grown ass man, one who looks old enough to be your father, harassing you right now? Over what team’s jersey you’re wearing? You had to bite back a laugh, the situation simply comical to you.
You had the words ready to go on your tongue, a split second from putting the man in his place, when you heard a different, much more recognizable shout from the ice behind you.
“What did you just say?” Luke shouts as he skates up next to you.
“Luke, I’m fine, really it’s okay-“
“I was just telling the lady here how much better she’d look in orange! Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about taking her home? Go pick one of the other hundreds of bitches here wearing your number! We picked this one!” the man cuts you off, earning a chuckle from his partner in crime.
You look over to Luke, noticing how his features were darkened and he was nearly shaking with rage. You were surprised with yourself when you found his reaction a turn on. Your face turned warm, your insides lighting on fire at the vein popping out of Luke’s forehead, watching the thoughts form behind his red face.
“Yeah…that’s what I thought you said,” Luke surprised you by speaking calmly. Too shocked by your own thoughts about how much you enjoyed Luke coming to your rescue, you hadn’t noticed that he removed his gloves and was making his way over the wall surrounding the ice until it was a moment too late.
“Hey, woah, slow down there, hot shot.” You grabbed his arm just as both skates hit the ground.
“Y/N, let go of me.”
“No. Look at me,” you requested sternly, tugging at his arm.
Luke looked down and met your eyes, his gaze immediately softening. You had an eyebrow cocked, the look on your face silently asking him what in the hell he was doing.
“Luke, first of all, you’re going to ruin your skates, you don’t even have your guards on. Second, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t go over there and engage with those guys, you could get hurt. You’re getting ready to play a game, you don’t need bruised knuckles or a black eye affecting your skating. Plus, you can’t exactly win a hockey game from jail with assault charges, now can you?” You ask him, hands on your hips, scolding him like a child.
“Y/N, they can’t just get away with saying those things to and about you. Or any woman around here for that matter. Someone needs to go over there and shut their mouths for them.” Luke’s fists clench, jaw so tense you’re worried he’ll break a tooth. “And if I end up in jail, so what? I can post my own bail. It’s worth it, for you,” Luke continued, throwing a glare in the direction of the Flyer’s fans every few seconds.
You stare at him in disbelief. On the one hand, you find it kind of hot he just said he would literally go to jail for you, if it came down to it. The anger radiating through his body a testament to how much he cares for you. On the other hand, you’re appalled at how stupid your boyfriend is. He’s about to play in one of the biggest games of his career, and he’s trying to throw it all away over a couple of sexist men?
“No, not so what. If you would’ve given me five seconds I would’ve handled it on my own, but instead you came over here and got me all hot and bothered because you decided I needed saving.” Luke’s eyebrows shot up at your confession. “Even if you think I’m worth it, they’re not. So you’re going to get your lanky ass back on that ice and beat the shit out of Philadelphia so they’ll shut the fuck up.”
“Hot and bothered, huh?” Luke smirks, ignoring everything else you just said. You rolled your eyes at him. Typical Luke behavior.
“Not the point here,” you chided him. “The point is, no one is going to jail tonight and Philadelphia is going to lose this hockey game. Plus, at the end of the night, I’m going home with you. Not some random ass-hat that’s old enough to be my dad. No matter how much he wants to waste his breath on how I’m a jersey chaser for the wrong team.”
“Damn right you are.” Luke agrees. “And now that I know you like it when I play the macho boyfriend role, I might have to do it more often. I don’t care if you can defend yourself, it’s my job as your boyfriend to run dickheads like that into the ground when they open their mouth at you,” Luke’s tone turns dark once again, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot up your spine.
“Alright, I think it’s best you get back on the ice, now, before you go missing from the starting line-up for another reason other than being in the back of a cop car,” you all but pant.
Even though Luke let’s out a chuckle at your response, you don’t miss the excitement that flashes across his eyes at your words.
“Yes ma’am,” he mock salutes you. “Hold on, something I gotta do first,” he mumbles, hand reaching out to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his.
His lips meet yours in a searing kiss. Your mouth parts in shock only slightly, but enough for Luke to slip his tongue inside your mouth, meeting your own. For a split second you forget where you are, savoring the taste of him, but when you hear the whoops and hollers of his teammates behind him, you come back to your senses and pull back from the kiss, resting your forehead on his.
“Alright, easy there, tiger. You’re supposed to be working, you know?” You say, trying to catch your breath, dodging Luke’s lips as they chase yours.
“I don’t really care. Needed my good luck kiss,” he tells you, stealing a small peck from your lips, stepping back and over the short wall, putting himself back on the ice.
You look behind him, seeing Jack and Curtis making kissing faces in your direction, never missing an opportunity to poke fun at Luke.
“Yeah, with an audience, right?” You were referencing Jack and Curtis, nodding your head in the direction of the two man-children behind your boyfriend, but as you look up at his face, his gaze was set on the two instigators of the whole situation.
“Just wanted to show them you’re mine. Not some puck bunny they can harass.” Luke shrugs, looking down at you once again. Your cheeks heat at his words, a smile finding its way on your face as he skates away from the wall, still facing you.
You assume that’s the end of the conversation, turning to walk away, when you hear Luke’s voice shout once more.
“Quit harassing my girlfriend, jackass, or your team won’t be the only thing getting beat tonight!” Luke belts out, throwing up a middle finger behind him as he skates towards his teammates.
You watch the two Flyer’s fans laugh, clearly not very threatened by the rookie hockey player. One of them notices your attention on them, placing a hand in the shape of a phone at his ear, mouthing “call me, babe” at you. You roll your eyes at the both of them, mimicking your boyfriend and flipping them the bird as you walk back to join Luke’s parents before the game starts.
Later on in the evening, you watched the two men’s reactions to the game in front of them. The confidence in their stances lost after Nico scored less than a minute after the match-up started. You continued to watch their reactions throughout the game, the Devil’s absolutely crushing the Flyers.
The two men storm off halfway into the third period, slinging beer cans and throwing their hats on the ground in frustration. You laugh at their distress, wishing you could go back to two hours ago and throw the win in their faces.
And, when the whole ordeal of Luke running to your defense ends up plastered all over social media the next day? Well, let’s just say you and Luke didn’t make it to any celebratory get-togethers his teammates were hosting.
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tubbytarchia · 2 months
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Traffic/Life series roster as dinosaurs
A lot of these don't make for very good hybrids unless you wanna get into freaky territory or full on centaur but... Hope it's a fun scroll nonetheless!
Grian - Novialoidea
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A small birdie... The name also means "New wings" which I find fun. New lives and death games to be part of, new wings to accompany him... (Honorable mention to "Shuvuuia" the "desert bird" who unfortunately is not a pterosaur (doesn't fly)) (Yes we're including pterosaurs! Just using "dinosaur" as a conveient blanket term)
Tango - Aratasaurus / Pyroraptor
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Fire raptor! Either works just fine and Tango as a skittery little raptor is perfect for a creature like him
Scar - Apatosaurus
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"Deceptive Lizard" harkening back to Scar's scamming tendencies. Though I've always liked the idea of him being some larger gentler animal in any hybrid scenario and a long-neck fits the bill well. He can poke his nose into people's conversations easily to start marketing something useless to them and swishes his tail to ward off anyone who's about to stop him
Impulse - Nasutoceratops
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Ren - Regaliceratops
Horns. COOL horns. I don't know what else you want from me ceratopses are just way too awesome. Nasutoceratops is a wicked cool dinosaur for having its horns point so forward much like a bull and I for one can jive with some Impulse bull symbolism. Bulls are often viewed as strong, sturdy and loyal, traits also assigned to Impulse a LOT of the time. But though he IS intensely loyal in many cases (+ Ceratopses are also known for how they defend their own!), and he's not very outward about the following traits, he can get quite petty and bitchy and hold grudges. Still, you don't think of that when you look at him and he seems to agree! Eg him feeling like he should be accepted into Cleo's alliance in 3rd life without actually proving himself when Cleo was rightfully hesitant, at which Impulse more or less rolled his eyes. And him proclaiming "betrayal!" when killed by Bdubs when their alliance was as firm as a rat's tail
(And I feel the need to point this out too just in case: "bulls are also known for their temper" yeah but they're not like that! Bulls like many animals become defensive when exposed to aggravating behavior or movement! Which you could work into Impulse's grudge holding and intense loyalty...? I don't know enough about him sorry but do with that what you will)
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Regaliceratops! Regal!! Crown shaped frill!!! Need I say more?
Gem - Therizinosaurus
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Theris are so bad bitch coated to me and I would love to have one as my wife I mean um I couldn't decide on a less generic specimen so Gem can just be a Theri! A herbivore - often associated with the belief that herbivores are gentle passive creatures, but far from it, especially with Gem! She bares her claws like it's no one's business
Martyn - Stygmoloch
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A Pachy with a tough head and a tendency to bonk people - I think it fits Martyn's tendency to perpetuate drama haha. The Stygmoloch's name though more or less translates to "demon of the styx river", the river of the underworld representing loathing of death. To me this makes sense with all the watcher lore (that I have a hard time understanding but whatever!!) especially with how Martyn became in LL. The watchers themselves don't loathe death (??) of course. They're death games. But someone within the game trying to stay alive and win? Probably loathes the idea of themselves dying. I have no clue what Im saying
Pearl - Carnotaurus
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Ok maybe a hot take not to make her into a pteradon or even a raptor with wing-like features but those just didn't fit that well in my opinion. Rather I wanted her to have some kind of horn motif in place of her wings as visual symbolism for her character. I'd like to imagine her having fine horns, to then have them damaged (one broken off) and simultaneously the other more grown out. Think of how domesticated goats for example have their horns trimmed. I think human hybrids with horns would do the same to keep them from becoming a bother but Pearl would neglect to after her heartbreak in DL. I was heavily considering the Diabloceratops for this, especially because of the name (Devil horned face - good ostracizing material) but Pearl strikes me a lot more as a carnivore and there are only two horned carnivores out there so... Carnotaurus it is haha. And even now I'm making her horns unrealistically big but.... We can suspend some belief
BigB - Oryctodromeus
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"Digging Runner"! I've already talked plenty of why BigB is very rabbit behavior to me and my reasons for assigning this burrowing dinosaur to him are similar. Tldr he is fidgety and cautious yet clever and constantly buries himself underground
Lizzie - Anurognathidae
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I don't even fucking know man it made me think of Lizzie and then I wasn't able to assign anything else to her. Lizzie often claims to be confused and if any dinosaur looks to be in a perpetual state of confusion then its this one. I know a lot of people like to portray Lizzie as a butterfly also so there you go, wings!!! And it's quite cat-like too for those who like to draw her as a cat
Mumbo - Leinkupal
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I really struggled with Mumbo... So many different dinos fit him imo but I figured it should be at least something moderately large (so "Technosaurus" was out of the question lol). Then I rediscovered this dinosaur whose name translates to "vanishing family" and then I thought about LL and SL and how Mumbo went out quickly after the initial death/s and left a very felt absence in someone's alliance and then I became really emotional and forgot what I was doing
Joel - Nodocephalosaurus
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Bdubs - Psittacosaurus
"Knob Headed Lizard"
Joel as an Ankylosaur has been stuck in my head from day one of assigning dinosaurs to the Lifers and I'm frustrated that I can't truly explain why. You'd view an Ankylosaur as a slow and docile creature, even compared to other herbivores, but...
1. Maybe not so much nowadays, I don't know what non-dino nerds think, but I feel like ankylosaurs were largely believed to be HUGE back in the day, much like velociraptors, when in reality they're not that big. The Nodocephalosaurus is especially small even among other ankylosaurs. But, well, we all know what Joel loves to say about himself
2. Joel is or likes to make himself look well in control, just as ankylosaurs have little to worry about as far as predators go. Especially in earlier series where he was content basing mostly by himself. It's always when things get dire and he enters his red life that he becomes very impulsive and erratic like an ankylosaur flipped on its back
3. I know there's a distinction between Traffic Joel and Empires Joel and whatever other Joel but... Even in death games his more charitable traits shine through here and there. He really becomes a dangerous rascal for a large majority of the time and he's very good at it, he's not putting on a mask or anything, but I like to remember that underneath that tough spiky armor is gentleness and caring. His care towards Lizzie and Pearl and Etho etc etc
4. The image of Joel as a hell of a spiky creature is just really fun to me. Yet heavy and blunt ones! And someone once proposed the idea of him having a club tail but having chiselled it to be sharp to mirror him being a menace. (Added benefit also that it's lighter that way haha) To me he's always been an obvious heavy hitter rather than stealthy or particularly creative etc. Him as a carnivore just doesn't work as well for me
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The name bares no fitting meaning but when I look at Bdubs I think of Psittaco. All other species close to it in looks are already ceratopsians and we have like... 3 of those already lol. Im sorry Bdubs you look so stupid
Cleo - Lythronax
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There's so few predators in this roster lol oops, but Cleo deserves to be an apex one! The name translates to "Gore King" because you know, zombies... and you know, Cleo is very king so true. If any of the Lifers should be able to boast rows of razor sharp teeth to gore others it should be ZombieCleo
Scott - Theiophytalia
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I've been really struggling with Scott but how about the dinosaur whose name translates to "Belonging to the garden of Gods". There's only one known specimen of this species and it's an Iguanadon looking dinosaur which I think a lot of people would regard as the most basic, possibly boring type of dinosaur (if it weren't for the Allosaurus which already takes the title of "basic straight white guy") but that further fits Scott imo. It's always been a strong point of appeal to me how MUCH there is to his character that so often goes under the radar or unexplored, and how he's very often portrayed as just some handsome looking guy as opposed to a hybrid etc. He's not at all extravagant yet has mastered his craft of bending fate in his favor, he so often has things perfectly under his control just as he wants them, etc... reflective of the name "Theiophytalia" even if you wouldn't think such a dinosaur to sport one of the most prolific names a dinosaur can have. Also garden something something flower husbans. Basically whatever Bree's take on Scott is lol. I don't wanna blab for 5 paragraphs about that blue mf here but. I hope this makes sense
Jimmy - Yinlong
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I struggled with this mf the most because he's another very hashtag deep character. I felt really bad to remove his bird motifs completely because the canary is so essential to him, but a raptor nor a pteradon fit my image of him at all. I spent so much time looking into various species but it just aint it, but Yinlong was possibly quilled and we can still cover him in feathers, even if he has nothing close to wings haha... BUT ANYWAY. Yinlong is a small kind of pathetic looking dinosaur, and Jimmy definitely isn't small but he'd sure be made to feel that way. Yinlong translates to "Hidden Dragon" however, a rather thought-provoking name for such a dinosaur. Given his character, it sure does feel like there's a soul of a dragon laying dormant somewhere in him, buried by all the self deprecation and curse labels. Honorable mention to Tianyulong, a very similar dinosaur who was named after a museum, but "Tianyu" also translates to peace and content. Something that Jimmy can't yet but deserves to be
Etho - undefined raptor
Already made a loong post about raptor Etho haha which I assume yall have seen since the support towards that post is the only reason I'm even making this post
Skizz - Olorotitan
"Titanic Swan" close enough to an angel right. I feel the whole angel thing is a bit overdone when Skizz can become a malicious little creature every now and then, but swans much like angels do get viewed as beautiful and taken as symbolism of love. Much like Skizz is largely viewed as an angel and often as someone who can do no wrong. But mostly I wanted Skizz to be a hadrosaur/duck-billed dinosaur, because those are dinosaurs known for their speculated vocalizations. And what is Skizz good at? Talking and voicing his love and appreciation? Yeah? Yeah... I'm so sorry Skizz btw this hybrid idea does not work out
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Again, a lot of these don't work so well as hybrids... Some like the long-neck ones I cant imagine to have more than a spiky spine back and a tail, but! These picks aren't based on hybrid potential but rather what I think genuinely fits. I did really work on this all day looking through a bunch of dinosaurs and research haha, but I do love dinosaurs a lot... If you disagree with any hey thats cool! Feel free to give me your opinions if you've any and I hope this was fun to scroll through regardless
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aphroditelovesu · 5 months
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Yandere Team Black Headcanons (Platonic)
''There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, and no war as bloody as a war between dragons.'' — Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was.
❝ 🐉 — lady l: I needed to get this out of my mind, so here it is. It's more focused on the Black Council, so only they appear, but if anyone wants, I can do it with the other allies of the Blacks. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistake! 🖤❤️
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, unhealthy platonic relationships, messy writing.
❝🐉 pairing: yandere!team black x gender neutral!reader.
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After the death of King Viserys I Targaryen, the Seven Kingdoms was divided into two factions. The Greens, who supported the succession of Aegon II Targaryen, son of Queen Alicent Hightower and Viserys, and there were the Blacks, who supported the succession of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first woman to be chosen as heir to the Iron Throne and the legal heir of Viserys. There were these two sides to the war and you were a supporter of the Blacks, of Rhaenyra.
Your family had long ago sworn loyalty to Rhaenyra and you would not dishonor that oath. You would fight alongside the Blacks and follow the Queen to the death if necessary. You would protect her and defend her honor until your last breath. It was this oath that you swore and it was what brought you to meet her face-to-face, along with the other members of her family who supported her.
Rhaenyra received your support with great enthusiasm and affection, smiling at you and hugging you, saying how much it meant to know that you, and your family, stayed true to their oath. She hugged you tightly, and you melted into the Black Queen's tight embrace.
She was so kind, just like the stories said. You were proud to call her the Queen. Rhaenyra touched your cheeks warmly and introduced you to the rest of her supporters, her family. Rhaenyra quickly became attached to you, developing her obsession and becoming possessive and protective. She doesn't want anything to hurt you. She had already lost too much.
You were introduced to Daemon Targaryen first, Rhaenyra's husband and prince consort. He was a little skeptical of you at first, looking strangely like he was sizing you up and your intentions. Which in fact, he was doing. After deciding you weren't a threat, Daemon was more open and welcomed you.
He wasn't the kind of person you wanted to mess with. Always so cruel and using violence to resolve conflicts, Daemon is not easy to deal with. But you can deal with him in the right way, being his listener and eventually his friend. Someone he can truly trust. Very possessive and short-tempered, Daemon doesn't hesitate to claim you for himself and will burn alive anyone who says anything about it.
Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was, was all the stories said. Stormy yet with a gentleness and grace you had never seen before. She was courteous and distant at first, as you would expect a princess to be. But as she got to know you, the more Rhaenys opened up and trusted you.
She is very protective of you, Rhaenys does not want you to fight, preferring you to become part of the council and act solely as a strategist. The war was very dangerous and she wasn't going to risk your life. Not when she already liked you so much and had already lost her two beloved children.
Corlys Velaryon became close to you quickly. You met him when he was still in bed, injured. Rhaenys was the one who introduced you to him and he quickly warmed up to you. He smiled in gratitude every time you helped him feed or get out of bed. His eyes seemed to always follow you, with affection shining in them.
He could see what his wife saw in you. Something new, something lasting. When he had doubts about whether or not he should join the Blacks, you convinced him and he found himself admiring you even more for your loyalty. Corlys knew he had to protect you. You were so pure for this world and the war that was to come. He couldn't let something bad happen to you.
Jacaerys Velaryon took a liking to you at first sight, warming up to you and becoming the linchpin of his mother and brothers' obsession with you. He saw a lot of himself in you for some reason and enjoyed your company immensely. Jace is always asking for your approval, trying to please you in any way.
He is quite protective and this only intensified after the deaths of people dear to him. Jacaerys enjoys reading to you and would love to teach you High Valyrian if you wish. When he becomes King, he would love to name you his Hand.
Lucerys Velaryon became especially close to you after you arrived in Dragonstone. Not just because you supported his family, but because you were you. So kind and so loyal, he was immediately attracted to you and started following you like a baby duck. Luke loves spending time with you, reading, or when you watch him train with swords. Just your presence is enough.
He is very possessive and clingy towards you, constantly wanting your attention and approval. Lucerys does his best to be with you, clinging to your arms, as if he were hiding behind you.
Joffrey Velaryon is the baby of the Velaryon family, so young and unaware of what is happening. He usually stays close to you, holding your hand and looking at you with curiosity and affection. It's common to see him following you through the hallways of Dragonstone.
Although young, Joffrey is very intelligent and is possessive of your attention, often fighting with his brothers for it. He wants you with him all the time, close and protecting him.
Baela Targaryen is fearless and a free spirit, much like her father. She approached you firmly and quickly, encouraged by her grandmother and father. She really liked you and you quickly became friends with you.
She is quite demanding when it comes to you, Baela has a tendency to get angry quickly but she never stays with you. She likes it and is very patient and calm, smiling charmingly and holding your hand affectionately. Quite possessive, she will often get into fights to defend you.
Rhaena Targaryen is more delicate and calm than her older sister, all gentle and sweet. She is more courteous and also less demanding, taking whatever she can get and inwardly happy when you approach her of your own free will.
She's more subtle in her obsession, watching you from the corners of her eyes and smiling sweetly when she thinks no one is looking. Rhaena takes every opportunity to be close to you. She loves dancing and would be honored if you wanted to dance with her.
The Blacks cared deeply about you. Not just the Targaryen and Velaryon family, but others as well. The Lords and knights also created their own obsession with you and they knew they must protect you at any cost. Especially when you were the pillar of that faction.
They will go against anyone who dares to hurt you. Ready to destroy and burn, the Targaryens have no qualms about getting rid of anyone who threatens your life. The Velaryon fleets are at your disposal at any time and always ready to protect you.
They would only become even more suffocating after Lucerys' death. They had already lost him, they couldn't lose you. There's no way you can leave Dragonstone alone. Always accompanied by one of them or of guards.
You have become important to them. Important to the Black Queen and her allies. You have become their obsession. They would rather raze King's Landing, and burn the Iron Throne than lose you.
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andreafmn · 1 year
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Hello I see your taking request again ! I’m so happy It’s been sooo long hope your doing well !?!
Can you write a reader x jasper
Reader is a vampire she has been with the cullens for ever like before Alice and jasper got there !
She’s as cool as a cucumber like no one has ever seen her mad
Well once edwards started seeing Bella and being a diva he makes a comment about jasper and reader loses it like full on throws him through a wall lol
Everyone is super shocked because they’ve never seen her like that and emmitts booming voice in the back round saying well never talk shit about jasper in front of reader again
everyone nods in agreement and jasper just looks at reader and says I love when your defending me love but let’s not put anymore people through a wall and everyone laughs
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Word Count: 3K
Story Description: (Y/N) Cullen might be even-tempered and calm by nature. But when it came to her partner, no one gets by unscathed. Not even her own family.
A/N: I know I took forever to post this request, but I always take forever for everything 😅 though I hope you enjoy and that I did your request honor, anon. My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.
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If you’d like to be tagged in any story or make a request: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post! Tagging apparently has reached its limits for Twilight stories. It won't allow me to post with the list I have right now, so turning on notifications will allow you to know whenever I post anything new.
Karmic Retribution
There were certain unspoken rules to being a Cullen.
One of the worst ones, the oldest made all the decisions. This meant that, more often than not, Carlisle and Edward were the ones to determine the outcome for the family. And to that point, it had been fine. There was never anything truly holding them down to any place in particular, and they could travel any time they wanted.
(Y/N) was fine with that to an extent. She was on the same level as Edward in terms of age, and sometimes she felt she should have more leverage in family decisions than she had. But she had always been quiet, keeping her anger always at bay. And it helped that she had Jasper by her side.
Their connection was almost instantaneous.
When the messy bundle of blond curls walked into their home in Calgary, she knew he’d turn her whole life around. They grew close quickly. Spending almost every moment by each other’s side. (Y/N) could not remember her life before she met Jasper Whitlock. As time passed, the memory of her time without him seemed more and more like a dream rather than her past. To her, he had been there forever.
Though she did not have any special abilities, everything about her was extraordinary to Jasper. She became his lifeline, the only thing to keep him afloat when he felt like drowning. Because most days he felt his head was always just barely above water. Treading on the line between fighting his animalistic instincts and his new family’s peculiar lifestyle.
(Y/N) could do to him what he was able to do for everyone else. She could read his emotions before he had a chance to name them, and she somehow found a way to make him calm and tranquil. She was everything he did not know he needed.
He had been afraid to tell her of his past. How he’d fought for the confederacy and had built and led an army of newborns in the south. He was ashamed of the lives he had taken, the people he had turned and promised eternity to in exchange for their loyalty, only to dispose of them one year later. All for what he thought was love. Jasper was frightened that the second he confessed to the sins of his past, (Y/N) would forsake him and push him aside.
Instead, he was met with a wave of compassion that washed over him. As his eyes stung from dry tears, (Y/N) provided him with a smile that he was sure could warm his frozen body. She placed a comforting hand on his cheek and gave his lips a soft kiss.
“Our pasts do not define the people we are today,” she had told him, nothing but love in her eyes. “The reason we are who we are now is because we have moved forward from what we did yesterday. You don’t need my forgiveness, my love. For the man I know now will never be the same as the man that was. What you need is to forgive yourself.”
At that moment, Jasper knew that his search was finally over. Though he still struggled with his hunger and considered himself a dangerous man, he’d found the person that could love him completely. A woman that had taken one look at the scars of his past — literally and figuratively — and, instead of recoiling in fear and disgust, had placed a kiss upon them and filled them with love and compassion.
“Do you know how lucky I am, darling?” Jasper had told her one day as they lay in a clearing somewhere in the snowy surroundings of Alaska.
“Is that so?” (Y/N) chuckled. Her fingers traced the stitching of the vest he wore, her head pressed against his chest wondering what his heartbeat could have sounded like. “I’d like to think I’m the one that is lucky. How many years did I spend on my own, waiting on my forever? Then you show up, with Alice in tow, and you change our family for the better. And now, I have someone to walk through life until the end of time.”
“Life is funny that way, huh,” he smiled. “And that is precisely what I wanted to speak to you about. I know our journey is seemingly endless and certain mundane things don’t particularly mean as much as eternity. But there is something that I want more than anything — mostly as a symbol of how much I love you. Because in this life and the next I want nothing more than to spend it by your side. So I ask you, (Y/N), would you do me the absolute honor of allowing me to be your husband?”
“For as long as love lives between us, yes. A thousand times yes.”
A wedding was such a monumental event for humans. For beings that stood the trials of time, it was a symbol of commitment. A way to bind their lives with something other than words. A simple promise made in the presence of the people they valued above everything else. That they were making the choice to intertwine their lives in all ways, regardless of any circumstances.
The event had been small, much to Alice’s dismay. The pair simply wanted their family and a few friends in attendance. Their love needed no impressive show, it simply was, and that’s how they wanted it.
In the family, they kept their heads low and out of the way. It was futile to insist on having more of a voice when it came to the decisions of the family. To that point, they had no quarrels with the choices the patriarch had determined for the clan.
Keeping to themselves allowed (Y/N) and Jasper to form a bond like no other. They didn’t need Edward’s mind reading to be able to hear the other’s thoughts; didn’t need Alice’s foretelling to know their life would be live and full of life. The couple had created the perfect balance between themselves and orbited around the family. Still, it was them against the world.
Jasper being the youngest — at least considered that way for being the last to join the family — was often the target for many quips in the family. From his stoic stare to his short fuse when it came to human blood, the blond would often be the butt of the joke. And it never seemed to anger him. He’d chuckle from time to time or roll his eyes at any lines that went just a little too far. But he never defended himself or asked them to stop.
His efforts were centered on keeping (Y/N)’s anger toward the family at bay. Though she was calm by nature, she despised the way their adoptive brothers picked Jasper apart. How they would jokingly criticize something the man could not control. It was often a topic of discussion when the pair enjoyed a rare moment of privacy.
“I’m going to squash them,” she huffed. “Are they not tired of the same jokes? Is there even an original thought in their heads?”
“There’s no need to worry your pretty little head over them, darling,” Jasper chuckled, placing a comforting kiss on her head. “I’m used to it by now.”
“But you shouldn’t be! Every day you work your hardest to control yourself around humans and I know how painful it can be for you. Then Tangina and Schwarzenegger come in and tell the same stupid jokes over and over again,” she exclaimed. (Y/N)’s arms flew up in frustration earning a chuckle from the man as he stared at her from where he lay. “It’s not funny, Jasper. One of these days I’m gonna blow and you’re not gonna be able to calm me down.”
“As much as I would love to see you say your piece to Edward and Emmett, I assure you I do not mind.” He took her hands in his, kissing the knuckles gingerly. “Their words do not affect me, darling. The only person whose approval I care for is yours.”
“And that you will have until the end of time.”
And that was the case for the next couple of years. Whenever they’d reach a new town the other two Cullen teens would joke about how Jasper could snap at any moment, and he’d wreak havoc in the city. They would say pick on him and laugh at him. The worst part, he simply took it, much to (Y/N)’s dismay.
She would grow angry, he would temper her emotions, she would complain about their brothers’ treatment behind their backs, and he would say it was fine. But it shouldn’t have been fine. He should never have gotten used to the unnecessary mean jokes from the older boys.
When they settled in Forks, (Y/N) already knew the cycle. New town, same jokes. The only difference this time, Edward grew obsessed with a particular human.
The day he’d come home from school muttering how he needed to leave for some time and hole himself up in Alaska, (Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. There was Mr. Jasper-can’t-control-himself at the end of a downpour of blood frenzy. Everything he had jabbed at her partner with had come back to bite him.
She had laughed with Jasper that night, the jokes laced with actual worry that Edward would be the one to snap and attack a human. But the karmic retaliation had been far too exquisite for her to remain concerned. Revenge was always a very tasty treat.
But her small victory had not lasted long.
Only a week later, Edward had come back home with a recharged confidence. His woes about hurting Isabella Swan had died in a matter of seven days and he was ready to throw a hundred and ten percent toward forming a connection with the frail human.
And with Edward’s presence coming back, so did the overused jokes.
It had been a sunny afternoon in Washington and all the Cullens were stuck inside the house. Most of the morning had been uneventful, each of the family members reclused in their own rooms. The house was quiet and tranquil, peaceful. But that never lasted long. Especially when they were all home.
“So, Edward, this Bella chick is kind of… different, huh?” Emmett commented, his typical goofy grin spreading across his face. “But don’t you think it’s kinda dumb to get involved with a human?”
“Yeah, it might be,” he chuckled. “But it would be dumb of me to not even try. There’s just something about her that’s… intoxicating.”
“Yeah, it’s called human blood,” Rosalie spat. “Because she’s a human, Edward. The worst thing you could do is get involved with her. It could put her in danger. It can put all of us in danger.”
“There’s nothing wrong with testing the waters though,” he debated. “There’s truly something about her that calls to me. I need to see what it is.”
Anger had started sprouting inside (Y/N) as she listened to her family discuss the sudden apparition of Bella in their lives thanks to their adoptive brother. The cold that ran through her veins suddenly started growing warm, consuming her from the inside out. Not even the hand that Jasper had placed lovingly on the low of her back was enough to dissuade the ire that was taking over her.
“We’ve pretended to be humans for decades; I think I can do it for a couple of months with Bella. I just… I need to get to know her,” Edward continued. “I need to at least try.”
“And what will you do when she starts asking questions?” (Y/N) interjected. “How will you explain the cold skin? The fact that you don’t eat? The fact that you turn into a disco ball under the sun? How will you refrain from telling her you are a vampire?”
“I simply won’t tell her, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “It’s not that hard to not mention the fact that my family and I are a bunch of supernatural vampires.”
“You can’t even read her mind, Ed. How will you know she’s not coming up with conclusions on her own?”
“God, we can sit here a debate all night long on why it’s a bad idea for me to get in any way, shape, or form to get involved with Bella,” he retorted. “But it’s not really a family decision. I’m gonna see where things go with her, regardless of what any of you think.”
“So, you’re willing to put our family – our whole species – in danger, for a seventeen-year-old you met a couple of weeks ago?” (Y/N) questioned. Jasper was failing to calm her down. He could feel the angry red monster taking over her mind as she debated with Edward. Her emotions were taking over her reason and he could do nothing to help her. “I can’t believe you could be that reckless and selfish. Our entire existence depends on us being careful and guarding our secrets with our lives, especially in this town. If the Volturi don’t get you, I’m sure the wolves would be more than ready to put you in your place for breaking the treaty.”
“Oh, come on, (Y/N),” he laughed dryly. Everyone could tell he wasn’t taking the dangers seriously, he was not taking her seriously. To the older boy, it was merely a conversation. “If there’s anyone we should worry about recklessly exposing our secret is mister short fuse over there.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“That it only takes something as little as a prick on a finger and fidgety Jasper will be pouncing on a human. The safest way for any of us to keep the secret is for you to keep a short leash on your husband.”
Edward had once vowed to not use his ability on his family unless absolutely necessary, and he had always kept that promise. That afternoon, he regretted it.
As everyone laughed at his taunting joke, (Y/N)’s emotions reached their peak. Her eyes had grown darker, and her hands had balled into fists. She couldn’t resist the wrath that had taken over her. All she could see was red.
One second, the family was enjoying the gag against the Cullen. The next, (Y/N) had pushed Edward hard enough to go through a wall in their picturesque living room. Dust filled the area, fragments of the wall thudding against the wall, falling around the boy. A mix of glass, wood, and gypsum board had scattered around Edward’s body, his body coated in a fine layer of dust.
The same expression of shock washed over each of the family members, astonished at the sight in front of them. Calm-mannered and good-natured (Y/N) had finally reached her boiling point. For centuries, she had always been able to keep herself emotionally balanced, even without Jasper. None of them thought there would come a day when they would see her temperament break.
Her chest was heaving, her nostrils flared, and her hands still stretched in front of her. She wasn’t breathing, instead, she was letting out every ounce of fury that still burned inside her. In a split second, she regained her composure. (Y/N) smoothed down her clothes and her usual smile spread across her face.
Silence spread across the room, the kind that was enough to deafen ear drums. It was tense and uncomfortable, filled with a type of discord they had never witnessed between them before.
“I think we can all agree that all jokes about Jasper’s, uh, condition shall only be done in private or inside our heads,” Emmett’s voice sliced through the silence, his voice booming and reverberating against the walls. “That was… unexpected.”
“But we can all say it’s a long time coming,” Jasper grinned, turning his attention to the woman he proudly called his wife. “And, darling, as much as I love that you’re defending me, I think it’s best we don’t put more people through walls. Alright, love?”
“I guess that’s doable,” she smiled.
The rest of the siblings broke into laughter. All but Edward that wore a scowl on his face as he wiped away the white dust from his face. (Y/N) couldn’t help the pride that swelled in her chest. After years of biting her tongue and holding back her feelings, it felt exceptional to finally shut Edward up.
“Well, Edward, it seems you and Emmett will have to set aside some time to fix that wall,” Carlisle grinned. “Can’t have your new girlfriend coming over and seeing a person-shaped hole in our new living room.”
“Why do I have to do it? (Y/N)’s the one that pushed me!”
“Let’s call it your apology for taunting Jasper for the past few decades,” Esme responded before joining her retreating husband. “Now get to it, boys.”
“How is that fair?”
“What can I say, Eddie boy?” (Y/N) grinned. “Karma’s a bitch.”
Jasper and (Y/N) promptly sped outside, needing a moment to themselves after the chaotic scene that unfolded. When they reached the clearing they often sneaked out to, the blond wrapped his wife in his arms and placed a passionate kiss on her lips.
“I can’t thank you enough for defending my honor,” he smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Though I can’t say Edward didn’t deserve it, maybe next time we can try to use our words rather than our hands.”
“I’m offended, Major. It was a calculated reaction after years of bullying.”
“(Y/N),” he lovingly reprimanded. “You know better than that.”
“Alright, love. I promise I won’t throw Edward into a wall ever again,” she smiled, pecking his lips. “But I can’t promise I won’t find other ways to get even.”
“I would never expect less.”
At that moment, everything was perfect. Nothing and no one could ever have predicted that in less than a year Bella Swan would infiltrate their family, that all the quips against Jasper would accidentally turn into reality, and that life as the Cullens knew it would drastically be altered.
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domjaehyun · 1 year
Text
SURVIVING NO NUT NOVEMBER (L.MK, L.DH)
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MEMBERS. mark lee x fem!reader x lee haechan
GENRE. smut…that’s it… some humor
WORD COUNT. 28.8k (i’m not apologizing and you can’t make me)
CONTENTS. weed consumption, haechan favoritism (it’s me. what did you expect), explicit smut (slightest of dubcon, chasing kink (? y’all idk), quite a bit of edging/orgasm denial (giving), dry humping, handjobs, blowjobs, cunnilingus, finger sucking, bit of spit kink, unprotected sex, creampie, double penetration, anal, rimming (receiving), overstimulation (receiving), praise kink, some slight degradation, bratty switch!reader, bratty switch!haechan, needy switch!mark, haechan really likes calling you “puppy,” i think that’s it)
NOTES. hi :3 thank you to my love @ncteez​ (hon) for beta reading this for me! i’m on my mark & haechan monster cock agenda thank you very much :)
PLAYLIST. video games - sun // seduce - russ // pth - emanuel
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Sunday, November 1st. 
“As usual, I think you’re full of it.” Lia sizes up Haechan, her scrutinizing stare so chilling that it affects you as an innocent bystander simply sitting next to Haechan.
“I’m not,” Haechan fiercely defends himself, jabbing his thumb into his chest emphatically. “I totally did take three edibles and, yes, I did see God! She was not pleased with me,” Haechan finishes in a mumble, scratching the back of his neck anxiously.
“What makes you think you saw God and not, like, her secretary angel or something?” Jaemin asks with a brow raised, and Haechan grimaces.
“What, am I not important or special enough to meet Miss God herself? I got some divine being several rungs down the holy corporate ladder?” Haechan counters, and the silence that falls over your table is deafening. “Wow.”
“Sorry,” Yeji says, shrugging. “It’s not personal.”
“Yeah, well, it sure feels personal,” Haechan grouches. Turning to you, he shakes your arm and whines loudly, saying, “You think I’m important and special, right?”
You look at his plate of food with scheming eyes. “Give me some of your fries and I’ll agree with you.”
“Agree with me and I’ll give you some of my fries,” he says, turning it back on you, and you pause to think. As if to make his deal even more appealing, Haechan holds up a forkful of fries, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 
“Screw you guys, Haechan is definitely important and special enough to meet God after tripping too hard on edibles.” you say, scowling at every member sitting at the table for good measure. You look at Haechan, waiting for his approval, and he nods with a pleased smile, placing his hand under the fork to catch anything that might fall.
“Say ‘ah,’” Haechan coos, bringing the forkful to your mouth. You roll your eyes in amusement but oblige, letting Haechan feed you the fries. 
“Thank you,” you say with a smile, which he returns. 
“You’re welcome, baby,” he replies casually, watching in satisfaction out of the corner of his eye as you stiffen in surprise, your mind buffering for several moments before it starts working again. He chuckles and nudges you with his knee under the table secretly before resuming his eating. 
“If you two are finished,” Lia says pointedly, and your cheeks warm as you look at her sheepishly. “I was going to say that in honor of November starting today, there’s a challenge I wanna share.”
“Share, please,” you say quickly, eager to switch the attention to someone else. 
“It’s called November, in which I try to make it through every day of November,” she announces proudly, and you point an accusing finger across the table at her.
“You stole that off of Twitter!” you exclaim, and she rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t say it was my challenge,” she replies, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously. 
“I’m onto you.” 
“Okay,” Lia says, dismissive yet amused. 
“I think we should try a monthly challenge,” Yeji suggests. “There’s No Shave November, National Novel Writing Month, No Nut November—”
“Ha!” Jaemin snorts in amusement. “Some of us couldn’t handle No Nut November.” He casts Haechan a side look which is not unnoticed.
Haechan huffs. “Why are you looking at me? I can totally do No Nut November.”
“Sure, you can,” you say, patting his hand comfortingly. 
“Why do you sound like you don’t believe me?” Haechan frowns. 
“Probably because I don’t,” you reply simply, and Jeno snickers into his food.
“You know what?” Jeno puts his fork down and rubs his hands together. “If you can make it through No Nut November, I will give you my entire weed stash.”
Haechan’s brows raise in surprise. “Damn. You really don’t think I can do it.”
“Nope.” Jeno replies, and Haechan huffs.
“You’re on—but I get to pick a buddy,” he proposes, and Jeno shrugs. 
“Sure. I don’t think anyone at this table is willing to go in on that challenge, though.”
When everyone at the table murmurs some sort of agreement, Haechan’s face lights up, visibly getting an idea, and he pulls his phone out, tapping it a couple of times before setting it on the table. 
“Hello?” Mark’s whispering voice comes in through the speaker, and you and Jaemin share a skeptical look.
“Mark?” Lia laughs, begrudgingly falling silent when Haechan shushes her.
“Mark, do you wanna do No Nut November with me this month?” Haechan asks hopefully.
“Hell, no,” Mark’s reply comes out clear as day, making everyone but Haechan stifle a laugh. 
“Aw, come on! Jeno’s gonna give us his entire weed stash if we do it,” Haechan coaxes in a sing-song voice. 
“No way,” Mark whispers back. Several moments pass, everyone at the table growing antsy, until Mark speaks again. “Fine. I’m in.”
“Great!” Haechan says all too loudly. “We’re gonna rock this challenge.”
“Yeah, okay,” Mark replies distractedly. “I gotta go now—I’m in class.”
“Oh, that’s why you were whispering—”
“Whispering, yeah. See you later, dude.” Mark murmurs hurriedly before the phone beeps to signal the end of the call.
“Well, that settles it,” Haechan says happily. “Jeno, get ready to kiss your stash of weed goodbye.”
“Oh, please,” Jaemin snorts derisively, “I bet you’ll be caving on day three.”
“Nope,” Haechan retorts, sticking out his tongue for good measure. “Nothing will fuck with me this month. As a matter of fact—”
“Haechan, don’t you have class, like, right now?” you cut him off, and he looks at the time, his eyes widening. 
Stuffing forkfuls of food in his mouth, Haechan stands up from the table and waves goodbye before rushing off with his plate.
There’s a silence that passes before Lia speaks. “So I feel like it goes without saying that we, as their closest friends, legally have to fuck with them all of November.” 
“‘We?’” Jeno raises his eyebrows in surprise and shakes his head. “I’m not turning them on.”
“Neither am I,” Jaemin says through his mouthful of sandwich. “Unless everyone gets real cool about a lot of things.”
“That also should have gone without saying, geniuses.” Lia rolls her eyes, and Jeno furrows his brows, narrowing his eyes before putting another forkful of ramen in his mouth and chewing. Turning to look at you, Lia continues, “I thought it was obvious that we’d collectively be fucking with them through one person.”
You slowly stop chewing. “Why are you looking at me?” You look at each of your friends. “Why are all of you looking at me?”
“You’re the only one with a weird enough relationship with them where it’d be normal for you to flirt with each other,” Yeji explains. 
“Our relationship isn’t weird,” you say defensively, blanching at the unimpressed look Jaemin shoots you.
“Remember when you first met Haechan and he practically coughed up a lung trying to do that huge bong hit to impress you?” Jaemin reminds you, and you snicker as you think back.
“Yeah, that was funny,” you chuckle, and Lia sits forward.
“Or one of the first times we all hung out and watched the guys play video games and Mark kept dying because he was too busy looking at you?” she recalls, and you purse your lips.
“Okay, maybe it’s a little different from your average friendship,” you mumble reluctantly.
Jeno swallows his mouthful of noodles and points at you with his fork. “Didn’t Haechan call you ‘baby’ earlier?”
“Yeah, and Mark called you ‘babe’ the other day.” Yeji contributes, and you sigh, rubbing your temples. 
“I mean, that was by accident, but I think I get it—” 
“Haechan literally offered you food off of his fork today—” 
“I get it!”
“Wait, that happened?” Lia asks, baffled, and Jeno nods.
“Yeah, he even said ‘open up’ when he put the food in her mouth.”
“Y’all.” You’re losing your patience.
“She actually took—wait, you actually took the food?” Yeji exclaims, and you bang the table with your hand to get their attention.
“I think,” you say slowly, “that I have heard enough about my questionable friendships with Mark and Haechan.” You look at Lia, who’s got the beginnings of a smirk on her lips. “What do I do?”
“Do anything and everything to get them to break during November.” Lia shrugs as if it was obvious.
“What if I can’t get them to cave?” You frown, doubtful of your abilities, and Jaemin waves a hand dismissively.
“That’s okay. As long as they experience mental turmoil and anguish, I’m satisfied.”
“Yeah, blue-ball them as hard as you can.” Jeno chimes in, and you look at each of your friends with a concerned expression.
“What kind of friend group is this?” you mumble, aghast, and Yeji snickers, leaning across the table to pat your hand reassuringly.
“One that enjoys chaos and mischief,” she answers, and you nod slowly.
“That is what I thought I signed up for.” 
“Anyway, you’ll be good at this; I feel like you already know how to flirt with them,” Yeji assures you, and you purse your lips. 
“I do,” you agree. “I’ll make it happen.”
“That’s my girl!” Lia cheers, and you snicker.
“This should be fun.”
 Thursday, November 5th.
“Hey!” Jeno greets you after he opens the door.
“Hi, hi,” you chirp as you enter the apartment and remove your shoes by the door. Jeno shuts the door behind you and takes your bag from your arm before throwing an arm over your shoulder and leading you into the living room. “Hey, guys!” 
Mark barely looks up from his laptop to wave at you, doing a double take before hurriedly sitting up straight and running a hand through his hair.
“Hey!” Mark sounds mildly panicked, looking over your shoulder at Jeno with a pointed stare. “Jeno didn’t tell us you were coming.”
“Sorry,” you and Jeno say, looking at each other. “Must have forgotten.” Jeno finishes with a shrug.
“It’s, uh, no problem, I’m just gonna grab something from my room.” Mark says as casually as possible, standing up and speed walking down the hall.
“That went well,” you murmur, amused, and Jeno nods with his eyes crinkled in delight. “I didn’t even flirt yet.”
Haechan comes into the room from around the corner in the hallway, immersed in something on his phone. “Someone dare me to eat that whole can of spray cheese in the fridge.” 
“I dare you,” you snicker. Haechan’s head snaps up to look at you in bewilderment, eyes comically wide as he lets out an amusingly high-pitched screech. 
“You—when did you—who invited—I mean, not that you can’t come over, but—Jeno didn’t say—” Haechan splutters as you watch him with raised eyebrows before stopping short and standing up straighter. “I wasn’t really gonna eat all the spray cheese, by the way,” Haechan laughs awkwardly. 
“Shame,” you muse, looking at him with a wry smile. “Would’ve been really hot, I think.”
Haechan pauses, regarding you skeptically. “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you hum with a nod. “It’d be like chugging a beer, but harder, y’know? Pretty impressive.”
“I mean, I can still do it—” Haechan says quickly, pointing at the kitchen as he walks towards it, and Jeno snorts from beside you.
“Haechan?” you call.
“Yeah?”
“I’m kidding.” 
“Oh,” he mumbles. 
“Yeah,” you say, nodding as you walk up to him. You pat his chest gently and smile at him. “I’m not really into kissing dudes who taste like spray cheese.”
“Oh, that’s fair—wait a minute.” Haechan freezes, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” You look right back at him with a playfully challenging expression, and the awkwardness fades away from him almost immediately as his lips curl into a smirk.
“So you think about kissing me?”
“Maybe.” Smiling secretively, you watch as his gaze drifts down to your lips. You give him a moment to recover and look back up at you but his gaze doesn’t waver, so you clear your throat pointedly. “Are you done thinking about kissing me?”
“No, gimme another minute.” Haechan breathes out, and you laugh, pushing him back gently.
“I came here to study, not flirt,” you say, lying through your teeth. He grins, wiggling his brows as he walks backwards towards the kitchen.
“You can multitask.”
“Haechan, go eat your spray cheese or something.” You roll your eyes in amusement and turn back to Jeno, reaching out for your bag. He hands it to you and footsteps sound out from down the hall, making you both turn your heads towards the noise.
Mark comes back into the living room wearing a different outfit entirely and with his hair looking considerably better, as if he’d frantically fixed it before returning.
You and Jeno share an amused look as secretly as possible as Mark sits back down in his spot on the couch, resuming his work on his laptop as if nothing’s changed. You walk over to where he sits and point at the spot next to him. 
“Can I sit here?”
“Uh—yeah, sure,” Mark mumbles in mild surprise, scooting over and pushing his stuff over on the coffee table to make room for you.
“Thank you, Mark,” you say with a sweet smile, and he nods, eyeing you as you sit right next to him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously, and you barely hide your amused chuckle. 
Haechan comes out of the kitchen with a box of Pocky sticks, hesitating as he spots you sitting next to Mark. You pretend not to notice him or the way he narrows his eyes, instead focusing on pulling your laptop out of your bag. 
You keep pretending to be immersed in turning on your laptop as Mark looks up at Haechan, the two of them exchanging an unreadable look in your peripheral vision before Mark leans back on the couch, casually placing his arm behind you on the cushion as if resting on your shoulders. 
You fight down the smirk that threatens to appear on your face as Haechan audibly huffs and walks over to you both, plopping down next to you unceremoniously.
“Hi,” Haechan says with a smile, and you finally turn to look at him as you lean back to rest against Mark’s arm. 
“Hi,” you reply, matching his expression, and Jeno clears his throat awkwardly, apparently no longer wanting to watch you three in silence.
“I’m gonna go grab my stuff and wake up Jaemin.” Jeno informs you three, and you all give some sort of acknowledgement as he heads out of the room. As he walks away, he shoots you a knowing look and grins before disappearing down the hall for what you know to be quite a while—enough time to mess with Haechan and Mark.
“It’s hot in here,” you complain, and Mark looks at you sympathetically.
“Yeah, our heating is stuck in the on setting,” Mark mumbles, and you frown, nodding in understanding.
You already knew that. Jeno told you before you came over, which is why you have something up your sleeve.
“Can one of you help me for a second? Actually both of you.” You sit forward slightly and both of them mirror you, looking at each other briefly before back at you. “I wanna take my hoodie off.” You cross your arms to grab the bottom of it, starting to pull it up and over your head. “Hold my shirt down so I don’t flash you.”
“I mean, I’m not opposed—”
“Haechan, just do it,” you huff, and he sighs dramatically before he and Mark hold the bottom of your undershirt down and you pull your hoodie off, revealing your casual tank top underneath. “Thank you!”
“No problem,” Mark mumbles, struggling to hide the way his eyes are drinking in the sight of your now exposed skin. Haechan, however, experiences not even a modicum of shame as he eyes you. You smile before yawning and stretching your arms over your head, letting out a small moan of relief that makes both of them stiffen and peek at you out of the corner of their eye.
You may have felt a little ridiculous when you hammed up the moan, but the response is so rewarding that you no longer regret it.
“You, uh, want some?” Haechan mumbles awkwardly, practically shoving the box of Pocky in your face.
“Sure,” you reply easily, and some of the confidence returns to his demeanor as he takes one out and puts the end between his lips. “You’re kidding.”
He shakes his head, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
You roll your eyes in amusement, not bothering to hide your smile as you lean closer and pinch the chocolate-covered end of the stick, breaking it off and biting it with a teasing grin.
Mark chuckles in amusement as Haechan glares at you petulantly, sitting back against the couch in a huff. 
“Aw, don’t be upset, Haechan.” You cup his chin and mirror his frown. “Even though you’re cute when you pout.”
“I am?” he asks with a small amused smile, and you nod.
“You are.”
Mark clears his throat pointedly from beside you, carrying on with working on something on his laptop, and you shift your attention to him as he continues to attempt to conceal his jealousy.
“Mark, you’re cute, too,” you assure him with a small laugh.
He looks over at you, feigning nonchalance, and chuckles dismissively.
“I’m not cute, dude.”
“You’re right,” you muse, leaning against him for a moment as you think. “How about ‘handsome?’”
“Handsome, uh—handsome works,” Mark agrees, a small smile on his lips. 
“Okay, handsome.”
“What about me?” Haechan complains, waving his arms in what looks suspiciously like the beginnings of a temper tantrum.
“She already called you cute,” Mark mumbles under his breath.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t get called ‘handsome.’” Haechan bites back.
“You’re acting like a spoiled child.”
“That’s rich coming from Mr. ‘I’m Going to Clear My Throat for Attention.’”
“That’s a stupid comeback and you know it.”
“Guys.” You look between them with growing amusement.
“What’s stupid is the fact that you won’t ask for the attention you clearly want.”
“Haechan!” You look at him in surprise.
“I’d rather that than whine and stomp my feet like an immature brat.” Mark counters, and your eyes widen even more.
“Mark!”
“I will piss in your bed.” Haechan threatens, and you decide the fighting has gone on for long enough. 
“You know what? I’m going home,” you sigh, and both their heads snap to look at you.
“Why?” Haechan asks, clearly objecting.
“You just got here!” Mark exclaims.
You gesture between the two of them. “Your fighting is making me uncomfortable.” You frown.
“We’ll stop,” Mark assures you, and Haechan nods in agreement.
You look at both of them skeptically before sighing. “Fine.”
You three fall into silence as Mark works, you pretend to work, and Haechan just stares at his phone while munching idly on Pocky sticks.
You decide to break the silence and mess with them a little bit.
“You know, I have a confession,” you say, not looking at either of them. “It was actually kind of hot to have two guys fighting over me.”
“Oh, yeah?” Haechan muses, locking his phone and leaning forward slightly to see you better. Wetting his bottom lip with his tongue, he watches you with a considerably more intense gaze than earlier.
Mark eyes you curiously before he slowly closes his laptop and turns fully to look at you.
“Mhm,” you murmur, leaning back against the couch cushions and looking between the both of them. “Before you two started going for each other’s jugulars, I mean,” you explain. “I kinda like it when you two pay attention to me at the same time.” You shrug and Mark chuckles.
“Careful, or we’ll think you’re suggesting a threesome or something.” Mark warns you. You raise your eyebrows.
“And if I said I am?” Your question makes him and Haechan freeze, the two of them looking at each other before looking back at you.
“I’d say to be careful before you bite off more than you can chew.” Haechan says slowly, his gaze shifting into something more suggestive, more intriguing.
“I can handle myself.” You smile innocently, and Haechan snickers.
“You can handle both of us?” Mark asks, eyebrows raised skeptically as he regards you. There’s an unusual amount of confidence in his voice, but you can’t honestly say that you dislike it.
“I can multitask.” You echo Haechan’s words from earlier, and Haechan chuckles, resting his hand on your knee.
“I think this is more than you’re expecting,” he says, eyes scanning your face carefully—for what, you don’t know. Seemingly finding what he’s looking for, he slips his hand up higher on your leg, fingers running along one of the rips in your jeans.
“Way more,” Mark agrees, and there goes that damn cocky undertone again, riling you up even more than you already are.
“It’s a shame you guys are doing that No Nut November thing,” you sigh, looking at both of them in turn. 
There’s a tense silence for a moment, and Mark and Haechan appear to be having a wordless exchange. 
“Why is that?” Haechan asks, his voice lower and, to your surprise, far more serious than you’d expect.
“Haechan, why do you think?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Dude, you are such a tease,” Mark laughs in surprise, and you roll your eyes.
“Mark, if I very seriously asked you to fuck me right now, do you think you’d be able to stop calling me ‘dude?’” you ask, looking Mark dead in the eyes.
“Oh, shit,” Mark mumbles, eyes wide as he looks away, back to behaving more like the less forward Mark you’re used to. You bite back a laugh and look from him to Haechan, who’s staring at fingers as they play with the strings in the stylistic rips in your jeans.
“Are you done staring at the little bit of skin you can see through the holes in my jeans?” you ask with a teasing lilt, and Haechan manages to tear his gaze away from said skin and look you in the eyes.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “It makes me feel like a Victorian man seeing a goddamn ankle,” Haechan mutters under his breath, and you snicker, leaning in closer.
“If you want, I’ll let you see more than just an ankle.” you hum, and Haechan blinks at you with wide eyes.
“Where is all of this coming from?” He’s quick to ask, baffled, and you shrug nonchalantly.
“I’m feeling…needy,” you sigh, tipping your head back onto the couch with a huff, and Mark splutters in surprise.
“Needy how?” He looks up at Haechan for a moment before cautiously draping his arm around you like he had earlier, leaning into the couch so your sides are pressed against each other. Haechan mirrors his position but uses one hand to trail up and down your thigh, his eyes on you as they wait for you to say more.
“Needy like…I need to be touched.” you say, frowning, and Mark inhales sharply, studying your face.
“How do you want us to touch you?” Mark asks, but, once again, his tone is entirely different. Instead of hesitant and cautious, Mark sounds teasing and confident once more, and the shift is entirely welcome and incredibly exciting.
“I want you to do whatever you want,” you reply sincerely, and Mark’s lips quirk up into a budding grin as he looks past you to Haechan, who’s already looking at him with his brows raised. They exchange several looks in silence and you lose your patience and huff loudly, regaining their attention once more. “Stop talking secretly!” you complain, and Haechan snickers fondly, tucking a finger under your chin and turning you to look at him.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, smiling at you. “We were just figuring out what we’re gonna do to you.” His words ignite a fire in you, arousal stirring in the pit of your stomach as Mark’s hand comes to rest on your upper thigh. You sneak a peek at both of their laps, noting with satisfaction that there’s definitely something straining against the front of their pants.
They’re so easy to rile up that it’s almost laughable, really, but you suppress your amusement, saving it for later.
“Did you figure it out yet? I’m not a patient girl, you know.” you say as you place a hand on their laps, dangerously close to the bulges in their pants.
Mark closes his eyes and exhales slowly, while Haechan pushes his hips up, urging your hand to slip down towards his clothed erection. You oblige and rest your hand on top of where he wants you, feeling the side of his length pressing against his sweats.
“We’re gonna—” Mark starts, but Jaemin shuffles into the room and effectively silences Mark. Jeno appears behind Jaemin, shooting you an apologetic glance before following him into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Jaemin,” you greet, amused as he emerges from the kitchen with a bag of chips, sleepy eyes regarding you before he smiles and lifts the bag of chips in lieu of a wave as he approaches the couch.
You remove your hands from Haechan and Mark (even though he seems not to notice your hand placement) and smile up at Jaemin innocently as Mark and Haechan surreptitiously conceal their laps. Jaemin extends his hand holding the chips to you in a silent offering, and you beam at him and reach into the bag, pulling out a couple of chips.
“Was I interrupting something?” Jaemin asks in a drowsy voice, looking between you suspiciously, Mark, and Haechan, the latter two sitting stiffly with their laps covered. 
“Well—” Haechan starts, but you stuff a chip in his mouth to shut him up.
“Nope.” You shake your head and smile innocently. Jaemin smiles lazily and plops down on the couch next to Haechan with a sigh of relief. You and Jeno exchange subtle looks before you pat Mark’s and Haechan’s thighs twice and stand up. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”
As you pass by Jeno and head towards the bathroom, you hear Jeno say something about forgetting his stuff in his room and then the sound of footsteps trails after you.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno loudly whispers to you, and you stop in the middle of the hallway, turning to face him.
“What even happened?” you question, mildly amused at the unfortunate timing of the situation.
“Jaemin got hungry and was all like, ‘I don’t care about the bet right now, I want chips,’” Jeno explains with a roll of his eyes.
“I can’t blame him. These chips are good,” you mumble as you put the rest of the chips in your hand in your mouth.
“Did he come in way too early?” Jeno asks worriedly, and you frown pensively as you think back.
“Yeah,” you admit, Jeno sighing sadly. “Mark was just about to tell me what they were gonna do to me.”
“Damn,” he mumbles. “Well, I noticed they got hard! So job well done.” He claps your shoulder and you flinch. “Sorry; too hard?”
“Too hard.” You rub your shoulder with a wince. “Hey, Jeno?”
“Hm?”
“Can I borrow your laptop charger? I forgot mine at home.”
“Sure,” he agrees readily. “Hey, maybe you can ask one of them for help plugging it in,” he suggests with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
You look at him with a blank expression. “Jeno?”
“Yeah?”
“The charger.”��
“…Right.”
 Thursday, November 12th. 
you: maaaark are you alive
mark: i’m alive haha i’m in class
mark: what’s up?
you: i miss you :( 
mark: really?
mark: cute
you: when does your class end?
mark: 2:15
mark: wanna hang out after?
you: y e s i’ll meet you at the shuttle?
mark: you got it
mark: see you in a bit
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“Mark,” you sigh dramatically, leaning against him in the shuttle bus’s seat. “Wanna smoke when we get back to your place?” You wiggle your eyebrows encouragingly. 
Mark snickers, nudging you away from him with his shoulder. “Yeah, but I’m running out of weed, so I might have to match you next time,” he answers and you wave him off.
“I got it,” you assure him.
“Oh, dope—then sure,” he agrees with a little nod and you smile widely at him before resting your head on his shoulder. He stiffens slightly and you bite back a laugh, craning your head to look up at him.
“Mark, you’re blushing.” you point out, gently touching his reddened cheek, and he shifts in his seat, pushing your cheek with two fingers so you’re looking away from him.
“Shut up,” he mumbles with a nervous laugh, and you decide to have mercy and oblige, pulling out your phone and opening TikTok to scroll aimlessly until you reach your stop. 
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As you settle in by Mark’s windowsill and pull out your bowl and weed from your bag, Mark chuckles in mild surprise. 
“Do you always carry your bowl around during the day?” he asks as he moves to sit across from you in the windowsill.
You nod. “Gotta stay prepared.”
Mark watches as you meticulously pack the bowl with weed and scoot closer to him, offering him the first hit. 
“Nah.” Mark shakes his head and gestures to you. “Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman, Mark,” you hum before lighting the bowl and taking a long hit. The smoke constricts your throat, threatening a cough, but you only let out a small huff, smoke coming from out of your nostrils as you scrunch your eyes closed. “God, that first hit never gets easier.”
“Tell me about it,” Mark chuckles as he takes the bowl and lighter from you. He takes a tentative hit, his face screwing up as he struggles not to cough. “Fuck, dude.”
“I know,” you murmur soothingly as he gives into the urge and coughs, smoke billowing around both of you as he empties his lungs of the smoke and fills them with fresh air instead. “Want some water?” You reach in your bag, handing him your Camelbak bottle which he takes readily, bringing it to his lips and sucking through the straw. His tiny coughs taper off gradually as he takes intermittent sips and he finally seems to recover, throwing his arm over his eyes as he groans loudly. “What’s wrong?”
“That was so lame of me, dude,” he half-chuckles, half-groans, and you tsk disapprovingly, moving his arm from over his face.
“I’m not gonna judge you for coughing when you smoke, Mark,” you say sincerely, and his face relaxes slightly as he looks at you with bright, hopeful eyes. “I cough all the time!”
“Yeah, but I just feel like it’s not cool for me to be having whole coughing fits, y’know?” Mark mumbles shyly, and you pat his knee comfortingly, squeezing it to get his attention. 
“Mark, I think you’re very cool,” you assure him.
He shoots you a funny look. “Really?”
“Well—no, not really.” you admit, and Mark frowns, opening his mouth to complain, but you shush him before continuing, “But I never thought any of you guys were ‘cool,’ to be fair.”
“I guess I’ll take that,” he sighs with a small chuckle. 
“Wanna try something that might help it go down easier?” you suggest with a raise of your eyebrows. 
Mark looks at you skeptically. “Sure,” he agrees tentatively.
You take the bowl and lighter back from him, take as big of a hit as you can manage, and lean in close to Mark, slowly exhaling the smoke into his mouth. Mark’s eyes flutter shut gradually and his hand moves to your waist, clutching you to keep you in place. When you finally pull back from him, he leans after you, his grip on your shirt tightening, and you fight back a smile, clearing your throat softly.
“Whoa.” Mark mumbles, and you nod, already feeling a bit calmer and fuzzier than earlier. “Hey, does that actually work?” Mark wonders, eyes glazed over, and you shrug.
“I don’t really know.” you admit, “I just know it’s fun.”
“It definitely is.” He nods in agreement, and you smile. “Can we, uh…” he starts, trailing off and avoiding eye contact. 
“You wanna do it again?” you ask, and he gives a small nod with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. You take another hit of the bowl and scoot closer to Mark who, to your surprise, gently urges you onto his lap. When you lean in to blow the smoke into his mouth, he tilts his head to the side slightly, groaning quietly as you shift forward on his lap and your hands come to rest on his shoulders. 
This time, when the smoke runs out, you don’t move right away, noticing as his hands move to pull you closer, one hand pressed to the small of your back and the other resting between your shoulder blades, pulling you so close that you’re chest to chest. Testing the waters a bit, you lean forward just a bit more and graze your bottom lip against his.
Mark’s hand on your upper back moves to the back of your neck and pulls you in immediately, Mark connecting your lips with a groan of pleasure and, if you’re not mistaken, relief. He kisses you like he’ll never get the chance to do it again, with desperate nips of your bottom lip and eager movements of his tongue, which trails along your bottom lip with an air of impatience, prodding at the seam of your lips until you part them for him with a small content sigh. 
Mark’s hand on the small of your back slips down just a bit lower, resting just above your ass, and you lift your body up ever so slightly, urging his hand to drop lower so it’s directly where you both know he wants it to be. He grunts into your mouth, his hand squeezing your ass firmly as you sit back down on his lap. 
It’s when you suck gently on his tongue that his senses seem to return to him, Mark’s kissing growing more hesitant and nervous until he’s finally pulling away with a worried look on his face. If he hears the small whine of disappointment you let out, he doesn’t comment on it, instead opening and closing his mouth with no words coming out.
“I am so sorry—” he finally gets out, and you can’t help but roll your eyes and chuckle fondly.
“Mark.” you say pointedly, and he stops spluttering incoherently long enough to look at your amused expression. “What about that kiss made you think I didn’t like it?”
He shifts his gaze away from you and you make a sound of disapproval, prompting him to return his gaze to yours. You drape your arms over his shoulders, locking your fingers behind his neck, and look him directly in the eyes. 
“I thought I was coming on too strong,” Mark explains, and you roll your eyes—this time, for him to see—and rock your hips forward on his lap ever so slightly. He groans in surprise and grabs your hips with both hands, eyes widened slightly.
“I wish you’d come on stronger,” you say with a small wry smile, and he blinks at you in shock.
“For real?”
“For real.” You nod in confirmation, and he scans your face, gaze lingering on your lips. 
He wets his lips which, to your satisfaction, are still glistening from the previous kiss, and leans forward, tentatively connecting your lips again. You sigh in mild frustration, wanting more of the rougher Mark from earlier, and curl your fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck, tugging. A groan filled with need sounds out from his chest and he pushes forward more forcefully, kissing you with more passion and less hesitancy.
“Good, Mark,” you breathe encouragingly when you part to breathe, resting your forehead against his. “Just like that.”
He doesn’t even let you finish catching your breath as he captures your lips, the combination of his passionate and needy kissing and the weed in your system working to create a dizzying high feeling in your head.
Mark pulls back slightly and you whine, chasing after his lips. The chuckle he lets out is so deliciously cocky—smug, even—that you find yourself stunned by the version of Mark sitting under you right now.
“Want more?” he murmurs in a teasing lilt, and you nod, clutching the front of his shirt with one hand and pulling him closer to you. His hands slide up and down from your hips to your waist in soothing motions, directly contrasting the almost ruthless way he kisses your lips. 
You don’t know how long you two sit there kissing, but you do know that when you break the kiss to breathe, it feels like you’ve been underwater with how desperately you suck in air. 
“You’re good at that,” you say with a smile, and Mark chuckles, his hands never ceasing their motions on your sides. 
“Thanks. You are, too,” he replies with a small crooked grin. A brief silence falls between you two as you sit back slightly, resting your back against the side of the windowsill until a stirring feeling in your stomach draws your attention. 
“Hey, Mark?” you break the silence.
“Hm?”
“Do you have any snacks?”
“Snacks?” To say Mark seems confused by the shift in topic is an understatement.
“I just got really hungry.” You frown slightly, and he chuckles.
“Did the munchies hit you that fast?” Mark asks with an amused smile, and you shrug.
“I don’t know, but I want something to nibble.”
“Well, you’re in luck, because I want something, too,” he announces, sitting up slightly. You shift off his lap, quickly taking the last hit of the bowl and putting the smoking embers out, and take his hand when he offers it to you, following after him to the kitchen.
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“Do you guys have fruit snacks still?” you ask, rooting through the cabinets.
“Yeah, we just bought some the other day,” Mark answers as he comes up behind you, reaching past a container of protein powder and box of cake batter to retrieve the box you’re looking for.
“Thank you,” you say, taking the box from his hand and pulling out a pack of fruit snacks. Ripping open the small package, you pop two fruit snacks in your mouth, chewing happily.
“You and your sweet tooth,” Mark chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs a bag of chips and starts eating them.
“I do not have a sweet tooth,” you reply defensively, and he raises his eyebrows.
“We have to keep our house stocked with gummies and sweet snacks otherwise you won’t come over, and you think you don’t have a sweet tooth?” Mark asks with a skeptical raise of his eyebrows, and you frown.
“Shut up.” 
“I’m just saying!”
“Shut up! Changing the topic. Why do y’all have cake batter if you don’t even bake?”
“Jaemin says he’ll get around to it one day.”
“Sure he will.” you scoff in amusement, popping another fruit snack in your mouth.
“He will if he makes it a weed cake.”
“Now that I believe.”
“Same,” Mark laughs, propping himself up on the counter across from you.
You pat the spot next to you. “No, come sit here.” Mark grins and complies, hopping up and sitting himself on the counter beside you. “Want a fruit snack?”
“Sure,” Mark replies with a shrug. You reach in the bag and pull out a strawberry one, frowning before putting it back. “I like the strawberry ones!”
“Yeah, me too,” you say. “That’s why you’re not getting one.”
“Evil,” Mark laughs, and you pull out an orange one and offer it to him. “You’re lucky I like the orange ones.”
“They taste funny to me,” you shake your head in disgust just thinking about it, and Mark snickers, reaching a hand out for the fruit snack. “No, open.” You place the fruit snack just in front of his lips.
“Are you serious?” Mark raises his eyebrows skeptically, and you nod. “Alright,” he mumbles, opening his mouth and letting you feed it to him.
“Cute,” you chuckle, popping another fruit snack in your mouth. When you pull out an orange one again, you feed it to Mark, who accepts it with no qualms.
“I don’t know if I’m just high, but you know what I wish I could have right now?” Mark pipes up, and you turn your head to look at him. “A Krabby Patty.”
“No, because why do they always look so good?” You turn your whole body towards Mark, whose eyes light up.
“Right?! Dude, Spongebob was such a good show.” Mark sighs, and you give him a funny look.
“Was? It’s still on the air,” you point out, and he gives you a baffled look. “I mean, the original creator left the show, so it’s not as funny, but it’s still pretty amusing.”
“Dude, I had no idea.” Mark’s eyes are wide with surprise before his expression shifts to hopeful. “Yo, do you think we could—”
“Yes, we can watch Spongebob.” you answer with a laugh, and Mark grins at you. “I’m pretty sure it’s marathoning on Nickelodeon in a couple minutes from now.”
“Oh, dope,” Mark mutters excitedly, hopping off the counter, grabbing the bag of chips, and heading to the living room.
You follow after him with a small mischievous smile, a scheme to mess with him already brewing in your mind.
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“Wait. You wanna sit here?” Mark asks, baffled, and you smile, nodding innocently.
“Yep,” you say, popping your lips on the “p.” “Can I?”
“Sure, I guess.” Mark mumbles, and you place yourself on his lap sideways so your legs drape over his thighs. “Oh.”
“Good?” you ask, and he nods, staring down at your legs with wide eyes. 
“Great.” He sounds a bit breathless, and you manage to withhold your laugh. 
“Then pay attention,” you hum, jerking your chin towards the television. He nods jerkily and complies, pressing the mute button on the remote to unmute the volume and letting his hand fall back to his side.
You wait for the perfect time to strike, biding your time by watching the television as Spongebob plays, and the opportunity finally presents itself.
The first episode ends and the commercials start to roll before the next episode, making Mark look at you.
“You wanna watch the next one?” he asks, visibly hopeful.
“Yeah,” you hum, studying his lips. “Lemme get more comfortable, though.”
“Yeah, sure—oh,” Mark grunts when you shift on his lap, the underside of your thigh rubbing against the front of his sweats. 
“You say ‘oh’ a lot.” 
“You do things that make me say ‘oh’ a lot.” Mark replies, and you smile, pleased that he’s taken the bait.
“Oh, yeah?” you muse, resting your head on his shoulder and tracing over the silver chain around his neck. He shivers under your gentle touch, and your smile widens. “What do I do?”
“You, uh—” Mark cuts himself off, gesturing at your position. “You sit on me.”
“I sit on Lia sometimes and she doesn’t say ‘oh.’” you point out.
“That’s different, and you know it.”
“Whatever. You only explained one of your ‘oh’ moments today. What about the other one?” you press, and you watch Mark balk.
“You…moved on my lap.” 
“I can’t move now?” You raise an eyebrow. He’s walking right into your trap.
“You moved a certain way,” Mark tries desperately to explain without actually explaining, but you’re on a mission.
“What way was that?” you ask in a soft voice. Mark doesn’t answer, instead swallowing thickly, so you tug gently at the silver earring in his lobe, smiling with satisfaction when the beginnings of a moan eke out from his lips before he covers it up by clearing his throat. “You know what? I’ll help you out if you can’t find the words.” you offer, watching Mark carefully as he nods immediately.
“Please.”
“Was I moving like this?” You shift yourself on his lap again, the underside of your thigh now pressing against the front of his pants. Mark opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not done. “Or was it more like this?” You move back slightly to distribute your weight more evenly on his lap, trying to hide your smile when you feel his length starting to stir.
“Please stop moving,” he says through clenched teeth, his eyes closed, and you let out a small ‘hmph’ of dissatisfaction.
“Why?” You look directly at him, waiting for him to meet your gaze. He does after a moment of tense silence, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips. “Hm?” you hum softly, encouraging him to speak.
“Because it’s, um—it’s kind of—” Mark mumbles, looking strained.
“Oh,” you say slowly in surprise, deciding to spare him from saying the actual words. “Is it turning you on, Mark?” 
“Yes,” he grumbles reluctantly, and you smile widely, leaning closer to murmur directly into his ear.
“Good.”
He whips his head around to face you so abruptly that you don’t have time to move back, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth accidentally.
“Shit—sorry,” Mark stammers, eyes wide and nervous as if you two hadn’t just made out in his room less than an hour ago.
“It’s okay, Mark,” you laugh, waving his apology off dismissively. “I kinda liked it.”
“…Kinda?”
“By ‘kinda liked,’ I mean ‘really liked,’” you correct yourself, and he blinks at you as he visibly buffers.
He looks down at his lap for a moment, brows furrowing in thought, before he speaks next.
“Enough for me to do it again?” His voice is lower, almost hushed, and the question hangs in the infinitesimal space between you two. “Like, properly this time?”
You don’t answer him verbally yet, instead placing a finger under his chin and turning his head so he’s facing you. You stare pointedly at his lips, the bottom of which he starts to nibble nervously.
“On one condition.”
“What?”
“You do it like earlier. Don’t do it like you’re scared of me,” you murmur lightheartedly, and Mark gives a small chuckle, nodding in agreement.
“Deal.” And his lips are on yours in an instant. It takes him absolutely no time to reposition you, maneuvering you so you’re straddling his lap with your knees on the couch on either side of him. One hand falls to your hip and the other slides behind you to grip your ass firmly. He kisses you like he’s got something to prove—purposeful and skilled movements of his lips and deliberate, dizzying flicks of his tongue have you almost forgetting your objective, your mind slowly melting into putty.
He sucks on your bottom lip just as you rock your hips forward onto him, and he breaks the kiss to look down at your laps and back up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, wetting his lips before speaking.
“Do that again.” 
“Yeah?” you ask, a bit breathless. Mark’s kissing skills manage to take you by surprise a second time, to say the least. “This?” You muster enough sense to tease him once more, grinding against his lap and whining with pleasure when your core drags against his gradually hardening length.
“Fuck, yes,” Mark groans, leaning in to kiss you again. He adjusts his grip on you, moving both hands to hold your hips, and he guides you in your fluid, rhythmic movements against his lap. 
It’s not long before he feels fully hard under your ministrations, the size of his length also something that takes you by surprise, and he shudders with pleasure, his lips moving down to kiss and suck at your neck as you grind against him.
You almost feel bad for what you’re about to do. 
Almost.
You tip your head back, allowing him more access to your neck, and press your hips down against him just a bit harder, urging both of you towards a climax.
“Mark,” you whimper, moving one hand from his shoulder to slip between you two and massage your clit through the thin fabric of your leggings and underwear. “Feels so good—”
Mark looks down at your hand moving against your core and hisses in surprise, evidently pleased by the sight. “God, I think I’m gonna—”
“Me too,” you pant, moving your fingers faster and harder as you dip your head lower to kiss Mark’s neck and suck pretty love bites into the skin. “Oh—oh, my God—” The pleasure builds and builds until it’s almost unbearable and the coil wound up tight in your stomach finally snaps, your orgasm washing over you, the intensity ebbing and flowing with every now erratic movement of your hips. 
Mark’s fingers dig into your hips so hard you suspect you’ll feel sore there later, and you keen lowly against his pulse point, collecting yourself for the next step of your plan.
“Wait—” You stop rocking your hips abruptly, and Mark’s head snaps up to look at you in a mix of alarm and confusion. “Aren’t you doing No Nut November?”
“I—well—yeah,” he stumbles through the sentence as his hips roll up, lifting you up slightly. 
“Then we should stop, right?” You raise an eyebrow, and the strained look on his face is almost enough to make you take pity on him and stop teasing him.
“I mean—” he says slowly, and you smile, slowly continuing your movements.
“What if you just forget about the bet for a bit, yeah?” you coax breathlessly, and he groans weakly.
“I can’t,” he grunts, a tortured frown on his face.
“Why not?” you coo, moving to speak against his ear. “I won’t tell.” You bring his hand up to cup your breast, Mark’s eyes bulging before he kneads it slowly.
“I could, but—” he mumbles, and you grind down harder in encouragement. “No, I’d—shit—I’d feel so guilty.”
“Oh, Mark,” you sigh sympathetically, “you’re too good. Don’t you wanna try and be just a little bad for once?”
“Yes,” he stresses the word desperately, looking up at you with a conflicted expression. “So fucking bad,” he grunts, his hips lifting up again. “But—”
“But you can’t,” you finish for him with a pitying sigh. “I get it. Guess that means I should stop, then, huh?”
“I guess so,” he mumbles, visibly flustered and sounding slightly disappointed. You nod, pat his shoulder amicably, and climb off his lap, standing up and stretching your limbs, the after-buzz of your climax creating a bit of a fuzzy headspace you wouldn’t mind staying in for a while. “Wh–where are you going?” Mark asks when you grab your bag from the other end of the couch, and you turn to him with an apologetic frown.
“I totally forgot I have an essay due this weekend,” you say sadly, the lie rolling off your tongue with ease. Truthfully, you do have an essay due this weekend; it’s just already done and you didn’t forget. “I gotta go crank it out.”
“Oh…yeah, okay,” Mark agrees after a pause, clearly dazed but nodding in understanding. “Good luck with it.”
“Thanks, Mark!” you say cheerfully before turning on your heel and making your way out of his apartment. When you shut the door behind you, you lean against the wall and exhale slowly, overwhelmed. You definitely didn’t anticipate that going as far as it did, but you can’t say you’re complaining at all. 
All you know is Mark has one hell of an erection to make disappear, and you wish you could be a fly on the wall to witness it.
 Monday, November 16th. 
“Hey, how’s Mission No Nut November going?” Lia asks as she, you, and Yeji take the elevator up to the guys’ apartment.
“Oh, great. I got them both last week—even though Jaemin interrupted—and I got Mark good on Thursday.” you answer proudly, and Yeji snickers.
“I heard about Thursday, from Jeno,” she pipes up. “He said when he came home, Mark was watching a bunch of pimple popping videos to make his boner go down.”
“That’s rich,” Lia snorts. “Speaking of Mark, I’m pretty sure he told me he wasn’t gonna be at the smoke session today; I think he has a project due this weekend.”
“Yeah, he told me, too. Pretty sure he’s camped up in the library as we speak,” you sigh, shaking your head solemnly.
“Well, now you get some one-on-one time with Haechan,” Yeji points out, and you smile, feeling mischievous. The elevator dings and the doors open, the three of you heading down the hall to their apartment.
“Very true. For your sake, y’all should avert your eyes.”
“Oh, dear God.” Yeji mumbles.
“It’s so worth it,” Lia assures her, knocking on the door. Barely any time passes before it opens, Jaemin standing there with a suspiciously wide grin on his face.
“I see someone dipped into their secret stash before we got here,” you say with a laugh, and he just nods with the same dopey smile, the four of you standing in place. “Jaemin?”
“Hm?”
“Can we come in?”
“Sure,” he answers. He doesn’t move.
“Um…Jaemin?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you let us in?” 
“Sure,” he replies. He still doesn’t move. 
Lia sighs.
“Jaemin.”
“Hm?” 
“Let us in. Move. Open sesame.” you say, waving your hand in front of his face. He blinks twice before making an “o” shape with his mouth.
“Sure, yeah, my bad.” he moves to the side, letting you three trail in and get comfortable, putting your coats away and removing your shoes.
You see Jeno setting up the bong on the coffee table while Haechan sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Haechan looks up casually, locking eyes with you before his own widen almost imperceptibly and he sits up straighter, stretching his legs out and spreading them wider.
“Hey,” he says offhandedly, grinning as casually as can be considering he just readjusted his whole demeanor to impress you. 
“Hi,” you coo, heading over to where he sits. You bend over, placing both hands on his knees, and lean forward to murmur in his ear, “I wanna sit next to you. Save me this spot?” You tap the arm of the couch, and he falters slightly, shooting you a surprised and confused look, but obliges, scooting over so there’s space between him and the arm of the couch. 
“All for you,” he assures you, and you smile, looking over to where Lia stands, mumbling to herself in annoyance as she roots through her bag for something. She pulls out a small makeup bag and opens it, retrieving a pre-rolled joint and waving it triumphantly. 
“Got it!” she chirps, moving to the couch and sitting down next to Haechan on the side he doesn’t have saved for you. “Lighter?” she asks the rest of you, and Jaemin shrugs.
“I’m guessing you took an edible, then?” Yeji asks Jaemin, and he nods, that same smile coming back to his lips.
“That I did,” he giggles, making you roll your eyes in amusement as you sit between Haechan and the end of the couch. Haechan eyes your skirt and your dark stockings intently, pinching the thin fabric with a lighthearted scoff.
“Can I help you?” you ask nonchalantly, placing your hand on top of his hand.
“Aren’t you cold?” he asks curiously, and you shake your head. 
“Why? Are you worried about me, Haechan?” you coo fondly, and he turns his palm up so it’s touching yours, lacing your fingers together.
“What if I say yes?” His voice is a murmur as he turns his head to look at you.
“I’d say you’re cute.”
“Then yes.”
“You’re cute.” You smile, and he grins.
“You’re cute.”
You dismiss him with a small roll of your eyes, averting your gaze and locking gazes with Yeji, who wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as she looks pointedly at your and Haechan’s linked hands. You give a minuscule nod with a smile and return your attention to Haechan, who, you think, has witnessed your secret interaction, his eyes moving between Yeji and you.
“…Remind me again why you wanted to sit next to me,” Haechan asks you suspiciously, and you pout at him.
“Because you’re my favorite,” you coo, resting your head on his shoulder and batting your lashes at his wary look.
“Oh, yeah? Does Mark know that?” he chuckles, and you raise a brow.
“Do you want him to?” you counter.
Haechan shrugs. “Depends. I kinda like seeing him sulk sometimes.”
“Wow, you’re such a good friend.” you remark sarcastically.
“Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your favorite?” Haechan nudges you playfully and you snicker.
“Shut up.” you huff, jerking your chin in the direction of Lia, who’s taking a hit from the joint she brought. “It’s almost your turn.”
Haechan takes it from Lia’s outstretched fingers as she exhales a cloud of smoke, bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag. You can’t help but admire the way he looks while he smokes, his pink lips wrapped around the joint making you itch to feel them on your skin.
He blows out the smoke in several rings, looking over at you with a smug grin. You roll your eyes, but it’s too late—if his amused exhale is any indication, he already caught sight of your smile.
“Show off.”
“You love it,” he retorts, and you stick your tongue out at him in lieu of a verbal response. 
“Whatever. Pass it,” you beckon for the joint, and Haechan’s grin widens as he leans closer to you. “Haechan,” you complain, and he chuckles.
“Ask me nicely.” His voice is low so as not to catch anyone’s attention besides yours, and his eyes drop from your gaze to your lips, his own parting subconsciously.
You lean in closer as well, still studying his face with curiosity, and bring your lips to the side of his face, deliberately brushing them against the shell of his ear to watch him get all jittery.
“Haechan,” you coo, and you can hear him swallow thickly.
“Yeah?” He sounds significantly less confident now, you note with satisfaction.
You pause to build the suspense. “Gimme it.” You pluck the joint from his unsuspecting hand, and he splutters in surprise as you pull away from him and bring it to your lips to take a pull.
“You’re evil,” he complains, and you smile widely.
“Sorry,” you reply unapologetically, exhaling the smoke with every word you speak. You take another drag of the joint and lean over Haechan, resting your hand on his thigh as you pass it over him and back to Lia.
“Wh—hey!” Haechan protests immediately, only for you to cup his chin in your hand and blow the smoke in between his parted lips. He shuts up immediately and allows you to shotgun him, his hand moving to hold the side of your neck and keep you in place.
Normally, you’d be a bit more concerned with people watching, but not everyone in the room can see you—Jaemin and Yeji are immersed in some conversation while Jeno rummages around in the kitchen—and the ones who can see you already know about the bet and your plan, Lia pointedly looking away as she calls to Jeno in the kitchen.
When the smoke runs out, you pull back before Haechan can close the distance between you two, grinning wickedly when he chases your lips with his eyes still closed. You shake his head in a “no” gesture, and he opens his eyes slowly, gaze locked on you with a dazed look on his face.
“There’s your hit,” you murmur, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You raise your brows in surprise. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless.” 
“Yeah, well, you’re not playing fair,” he mumbles, looking put out.
“Sorry, Haechan,” you chuckle, squeezing his thigh under the guise of comforting him. He looks down at his thigh in surprise, then back at you with wary eyes.
“What are you up to?”
You don’t answer, instead smiling secretively and sliding your hand up just a bit higher. 
“What are you up to?” he presses, and you shrug, moving your hand up just a bit higher until you brush against something warm and solid and smile in satisfaction. “Good God.”
“Haechan, take your phone out of your pocket,” you say with a mocking frown, and he glares at you.
“You know damn well that’s not my phone.” As if to prove his point, he picks his phone up from beside him, waving the device in your face.
“Oh? Then what is it?” you ask curiously, feigning cluelessness, and Haechan’s glare only intensifies. You widen your eyes in a dramatic show of realization and sit closer to him, sliding your hand up higher until there’s no mistaking your intentions. “Haechan.” You attempt to sound as scandalized as possible.
“I’m gonna throttle you.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You smile sweetly, patting the growing bulge in his pants lightly. “Haechan,” you whisper, returning to your original line of questioning, “if it’s not your phone, then what is it?” 
“You know what it is.” His voice is flat, if not a bit strained, and you can’t help but smile wider.
“Are you hard, Haechan?” You place your free hand over your chest and blink at him in shock. Haechan pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he bites back a humorless chuckle, and you wet your lips absentmindedly, your gaze falling to his mouth. “Why are you hard, Haechan?” you murmur, cocking your head to the side curiously. (As if you don’t know.)
“Hm, I don’t know. Surely it has nothing to do with the girl next to me right now rubbing up on me,” Haechan remarks drily. “You get on my nerves sometimes, you know that?” He’s clearly joking, the playful lilt in his voice unmistakable, but you eagerly take the opening to be difficult.
You frown, retracting your hand from his lap. Haechan looks from his now untouched lap to you in what you’re positive is poorly concealed disappointment. “What?”
“I get on your nerves?” You sniffle in faux hurt before you angle your body away from him, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa and placing your chin in your hand forlornly.
“Aw, c’mere,” Haechan chuckles, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You huff and scoot closer to the edge of the couch, barely hiding your yelp of surprise when Haechan pulls you to him so hard that you practically land in his lap. You continue to look away from him, sighing dramatically, and he snickers, placing his chin on your shoulder and turning his face towards you so his nose is brushing against your cheek. “Did I hurt your feelings?” 
“Let me go,” you say, your voice clipped, and he adjusts you so you’re sitting properly in his lap before he tilts his head up to press his lips to your cheek.
“Would it help if I told you just how cute I think you are?” His voice comes out as an almost incoherent mumble because of how his lips are squished against your cheek, but you hear him all the same, your face heating up as you fight back a smile.
“No.”
“You sure?” His hand moves a lock of your hair behind your ear before coming to rest on your thigh.
You pause, staring at his (very attractive) hand on your leg. “I’m sure.” 
He shifts you in his lap so his lips are closer to your ear and murmurs, “Even if I tell you that you could never actually get on my nerves and that you’re the prettiest girl?”
“What, ever?” you scoff, amused, and he nods, his lips brushing your ear with the movement.
“Yes, ever.” To your surprise, he sounds sincere, and the notion of the compliment being genuine has your cheeks burning with heat. “I can see you trying not to smile, you know.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Okay.” You shift on his lap so you can sit directly on the growing erection in his pants, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Ha, ha.” you gloat.
“You shut up.” It’s his turn to gripe at you, and you shrug.
“No.” Before he can say anything else in response, you cover his mouth with your hand and lean over towards Lia to take the joint from her once more. You two share a secretive, knowing look before she angles her body so that she’s shielding you and your shenanigans from the rest of the group.
You keep your hand over Haechan’s mouth as you take your hit of the joint, before a warm, wet sensation on your palm has you yanking your hand off of his mouth like you’ve been burned. You stare down at the glistening wet stripe on your palm in bewilderment and look back up at him incredulously.
“Can I help you?” Haechan asks nonchalantly, having the audacity to smile innocently at you, and you narrow your eyes.
“Did you seriously just lick me?” you scoff in disbelief, and he shrugs.
“Maybe.”
“You are so weird.” you mumble as you pass Lia the joint, skipping Haechan once more.
“You’re gonna stop skipping me in the rotation, I know that much.” Haechan warns and you roll your eyes.
“That’s for saying I get on your nerves and for being weird.” you reply, turning your nose up.
“Oh, please. You’re sitting on my lap, so clearly you must like how weird I am, at least a little bit.” He grins teasingly, and you roll your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap until he lets out a choked groan from the feeling of you moving against his concealed, almost entirely hard length. “Stop moving.”
“Your dick is making me uncomfortable,” you lie in a huff, squirming around a bit more before he grabs your hips to restrict your movements. “Get un-hard.”
“I can’t just get un-hard,” Haechan bites back.
“You didn’t even try!”
“That’s not how dicks work!” Haechan whisper-snaps at you, and you narrow your eyes.
“Well, do something,” you complain, ending your little hushed whisper debate. “Or I will.” 
Haechan regards you warily. “Do I want to know what that means?”
“Probably not.” You shrug. “But you’re gonna find out anyway.”
“Psst!” Lia whispers to get your attention, and you look over at her, feeling slightly sheepish. “Do either of you want to take a hit from the bong?”
“I’m good for right now,” you say, smiling as the hits from the joint you’ve already taken continue to take effect, while Haechan hums thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I’ll take a hit.” He reaches for the bong as Lia hands it over, gripping your waist with his free hand to keep you steady, and an idea comes to your mind of how you can mess with him even more.
He brings his mouth to the mouthpiece of the bong, taking his hit and you gently stroke his leg, smiling innocently when he side-eyes you suspiciously. You wait patiently until he finishes exhaling the smoke (you’re not a total monster) to rest your hand directly over his concealed length and squeeze it firmly, making him cough in surprise, Haechan spluttering comically as you bite back your laughter. 
“Y’know what?” Haechan mutters, jaw set in determination as he stares you down. “Come on.” He moves you off of his lap, wraps his fingers around your wrist, and pulls you to your feet, walking away quickly with you in tow. When Jaemin curiously asks where you’re going, Haechan mutters something about the kitchen and snacks, not offering any further explanation.
You shoot Jaemin a thumbs-up over your shoulder, and he grins, nodding and returning the gesture just before Haechan leads you out of view. You two make it into the kitchen, passing a smiling Jeno with a bag of Cheetos and a plate of pizza rolls on his way out, and Haechan pushes you up against the counter, caging you in with his arms and staring directly at you.
“Haechan, why are we here?” you ask, looking back at him as calmly as possible given the steady increase of your heart rate as he eyes you with an unreadable expression.
“What,” Haechan steps closer to you, making you shrink back against the counter even more, “are you playing at?”
You blink at him impassively. “I don’t know what you mean,” you lie.
“You’re sitting next to me, calling me your favorite, feeling me up in front of our friends—”
“Haechan.” You interrupt him, an eyebrow raised skeptically. “You literally liked it. Stop complaining.”
“I don’t like being felt up in front of our friends, actually.” You can tell he’s trying to sound like he means it, but the way he suddenly avoids your gaze sheepishly tells you everything you need to know.
“You’re lying,” you say simply, and he huffs. 
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am n—”
“Haechan, do you think I’m an idiot?” You stare at him, unimpressed. “You liked it. You pulled me onto your lap. You didn’t move my hand once.” He rolls his eyes, still not making eye contact, and you sigh in frustration, cupping his chin and turning his head so he’s looking at you. “You wanna know why I did all that?” you ask in a quiet but urgent voice, and he blinks a couple of times before nodding. “I was sitting next to you and you just look so good today—”
“Don’t say that,” he mutters, his brows furrowing together as he looks away from you again.
“You do,” you insist, pulling Haechan closer to you by the chin. “You look so hot in that hoodie, honestly.” You loop one of the strings of the light gray hoodie around your finger and tug it lightly as you continue speaking. “Honestly, it’s really on you that I did anything in the first place,” You say, shrugging, and he looks back at you incredulously.
“It’s on me?”
“Yep.” You smile at him and bring both hands to the hem of his hoodie, tugging him even closer to you. “You had the nerve to wear gray sweatpants—”
“They match my hoodie!” 
“—like some kind of slut,” you continue, looking from your hands on the bottom of his hoodie up to his face, “and think no one was gonna notice your entire goddamn dick print in your pants?”
“Well, who’s looking that closely?!” Haechan splutters defensively, and you scoff. 
“Everyone knows the shape of a dick, Haechan!” You whisper-yell incredulously. “Plus, it’s not like you’re exactly small, y’know.”
“So, it’s my fault that you tried to jump my bones? My crime is having a big dick and wanting to wear sweats in the middle of November?” Haechan asks in disbelief, and you nod simply, pulling him even closer until your legs brush against his. 
“Yeah.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m not. Actually, what I am is turned on,” you correct, and Haechan stops short, looking at you carefully.
“You’re what?”
“You heard me.” You stare back at him challengingly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, Haechan’s eyes briefly dropping to scan your whole body before returning upwards to look into your own, his gaze considerably more intense and glinting with mischief. “Can you stop staring at me like that and do something about it?”
“Oh?” Haechan’s smile turns wicked as he steps closer to you so you’re pressed up against each other with the countertop digging into your back. “Do what about it, hm?”
“I don’t know,” you lilt, dragging the last syllable out and batting your lashes at him coyly. With one hand, you release his hoodie and trail down his body the short distance from the hem of his hoodie to the string of his sweats. You slowly pull at the string until it’s untied, looking up at his face. He’s mesmerized, watching your hand as it dips into the band of his sweats and snaps the elastic against his skin, making him jolt. “Use your imagination.”
“You are so dangerous.” Haechan mumbles in a daze, but there’s an unmistakable desire in his voice that gives you all the confirmation you need to continue. He brings his hands to your hips, urging you up and onto the counter, immediately pushing himself between your legs and resting his hands on your thighs. 
You place a hand between your legs protectively to conceal yourself, your skirt riding up your thighs as he massages them. 
“Relax,” he chuckles, pinching your thin stockings and letting them lightly snap against your skin, “you’re covered.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” you mumble, averting your gaze, and he snickers, pinching your stockings again and tugging them. “Stop, they're fragile—you could rip them.”
“Oh, I know,” he murmurs teasingly, looking up from your thighs at your face. “I want to rip them.”
“Don’t you dare,” you warn him, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“Stop me.” His eyes are trained on your lips and he’s got his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, painting a very alluring image that makes you wish you could get just a bit of friction between your legs, any pressure at all, to relieve yourself of some of the tension building up. 
He leans forward, your lips brushing lightly against each other’s, and you’re not even sure who’s teasing whom at this point. You do know, however, that Haechan is the first to cave, leaning in with a groan to close the distance between you two and connect your lips.
You two kiss with an air of desperation, a feverish quality to your every move as he kneads your thighs, hiking your skirt up higher. His tongue eases between your lips and he strokes it against your own, pushing forward slightly to suck on your tongue when he pulls back.
As you two kiss, you push your hand past the band of his sweats, moving to slip your hand into his boxers, only to stop short and look at him in surprise. He raises his eyebrows and grins playfully, eyes darting between where your hand lies in his pants and your shocked face.
“No boxers? Just out here, rawdogging your sweats, dick and balls and all?” You’re incredulous, and he shrugs as his grin widens. “You really are a slut, Haechan.”
“Hey!” Haechan complains, frowning at you. He wraps his hand around your wrist and urges it lower down until your fingertips are brushing against his length, murmuring, “Besides, don’t act like you don’t love it.”
“I never said I don’t love it,” you reply slowly, wrapping your hand around the base of his length. His erection is hot and heavy in your palm, thick and tempting, and you stroke upwards, relishing the hiss he lets out. “I just said you’re a slut.”
“And what about you, pretty?” Haechan presses in a low voice. “Are you a little slut?”
“Me? No,” you answer, stroking his length faster and appreciating the way he grows in your hand. “I’m innocent.”
“Sure,” he snorts in amusement. “Your hand is wrapped around my dick right now.”
“Oh, is it? I hadn’t noticed.” You twist your wrist, tightening your grip on him and stroking him faster. He grunts in satisfaction and leans closer to you, tilting your head to the side slightly and giving your neck heated, wet kisses as you jerk him off. You welcome the attention eagerly, loosely hooking your legs around the backs of his legs and sighing happily as he licks and sucks at your pulse point.
“Wait—slow down, or I’m gonna cum.” Haechan mutters in a warning tone against your skin, and it’s your turn to snort in amusement.
“Haechan, what do you think my goal is right now?”
“No, but—shit,” he swears, biting down on your neck to stifle the groan that escapes him when you jerk him off faster, swiping your thumb over the head of his length, collecting the glaze of his precum and using it as lubrication. “No, because—ugh, that feels so good.”
“Good,” you hum sweetly, massaging his tip with your thumb and working your hand up and down his length as he pants against your neck, his kisses getting sloppier.
“I can’t,” he manages to get out through his clenched teeth. “No Nut November—the bet—”
“Fuck the bet,” you say simply, and he shakes his head, a desperate, plaintive whine leaving him.
“Can’t—I can’t cum,” he says through a shaky exhale, and you roll your eyes as you collect several more beads of precum from the head of his length.
“What’s this, Haechan?” you taunt him playfully, stroking him faster with the help of the precum. “Feels like cum to me.”
“That doesn’t count,” he whines, and you snicker.
“You really don’t want to cum?” you ask gently, rolling your eyes as he starts to thrust forward into your hand. “You’re not acting like you don’t want to cum.”
“It feels so good,” he complains, and you coo sympathetically, letting him fuck into your fist.
“Then cum.”
“No—”
“Then I’ll stop,” you say simply, and his fingers dig into your thighs desperately.
“No—” 
“Haechan.”
“God, fuck, please, just a little bit longer.” Haechan pants, and you pretend to oblige, continuing to provide the fist he’s fucking. You can feel him throbbing in your hand as his would-be climax approaches, and you smile devilishly when you pull your hand out from his underwear and watch as he goes through every stage of grief, lingering in anger before a brief pass through bargaining and finally coming to acceptance as his head hangs low.
“Sorry,” you say with a pout, and he looks up at you, still defeated but also skeptical.
“Are you?”
You pretend to think. “Nope.” You gently push him away from you with a knee to his stomach, hopping off the counter and smiling at him. “Have fun getting rid of that,” you chuckle, gesturing to the now incredibly prominent imprint of his erection, and he glowers at you. “I’m gonna go take a bong hit.”
You don’t stick around to hear his response, turning on your heel and heading back into the living room. Your friends all turn from their conversations to look at you as you re-enter the room, all sporting the same expectant look, and silently celebrate when you shoot them a thumbs-up, Jeno and Lia high-fiving.
“Want some?” Jeno holds up the bong, and you nod, reaching for it before you stop yourself and look at your hand. “What’s wrong?”
“I do want some,” you say, “but I think I should wash my hands first. Be right back.” You head for the bathroom, peeking in at Haechan as you pass the kitchen and clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.
He’s standing with his forehead against the fridge, gently thumping his head against the metal door, and repeatedly muttering, “I fucking hate November.”
You know you should feel bad, but…you don’t. At all, really.
As a matter of fact, you think you might love November.
 Friday, November 20th.
“Knock, knock,” you call when you poke your head into Mark’s room. He turns from his computer towards the door, beaming when he sees you. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, of course, dude,” Mark says, waving you in with one hand. He turns back to his screen and presses a couple of keys on his keyboard, swearing under his breath before turning back to face you. 
“Whatcha doin’?” you ask.
“Playing Monster Hunter World,” he answers with a jab of his thumb in the direction of his screen. “Why, what’s up?”
“Missed you, that’s all.” you say softly, making your way over to his chair and standing behind it. “I did my rounds bothering your roommates and it’s your turn to put up with me.”
“You’re telling me Haechan let you leave his room?” Mark snickers in disbelief, craning his head to look at you.
“I told him I wanted to see you.” You shrug.
Mark snorts loudly. “And he still let you leave his room?”
“I can be very persuasive,” you huff, and Mark scans your frame before raising his eyebrows.
“I bet.” he mumbles with a small smirk.
You blink twice. “What was that?”
“Look at your outfit,” Mark swivels around in his chair to face you fully and you scoff in surprise. Mark seems to pick up on where your mind is heading and his eyes widen as he shakes his head vehemently. “No, not like that!”
“Then like what?” You cock your head to the side and Mark puts his head in his hands, sighing in anguish. 
“Like—you look hot, dude—that’s all I meant,” he assures you in a rush of words, and you let out a small huff, prompting him to reach for your hands. He pulls you closer and looks up at you with pleading eyes. “I would never say something like that.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, and he swears under his breath. 
“You just look really…fucking…attractive, so it’s no wonder why he listened to you.” Mark says carefully. You feel a smile coming on and you step closer, nudging his knees apart to stand between them. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, oh, my God, yeah—” Mark stammers, releasing one hand to gesture at your outfit. “Your hair—I love when you wear your hair like that—and your jeans, they—um,” Mark’s voice trails off awkwardly and you cock an eyebrow, bending down to meet his eyes. “They fit you very nicely.”
“Mark, are you telling me my ass looks good?” You stand up and bite back a smile as his ears redden and he laughs nervously, releasing you to rub the back of his neck.
“Maybe,” he answers sheepishly, looking up at you. At the sight of your thoroughly amused face, some of his confidence returns to his demeanor. “Yeah, maybe I am.”
“If you were, I’d say thank you,” you say with a playful shrug. “Maybe even kiss you for the compliment.”
“I was definitely complimenting your ass.” The words can’t come out of Mark’s mouth fast enough, apparently, and you laugh in surprise.
“Well, thank you,” you laugh before you sink into a squat and rest your elbows on his lap. “Where do you want your kiss?”
He taps his cheek and you smile and lean closer to press a kiss there, his cheek moving under your lips as he smiles.
“Your cardigan is also really, um, flattering,” Mark adds when you sit back, and you raise your eyebrows.
“Is it? Haechan said that, too,” you muse thoughtfully.
“Yeah, he’s right.” Mark nods, and you raise your eyebrows.
“He made some dumb joke about my cardigan, too,” you continue, and Mark looks at you expectantly. “Said I look breedable—y’know, like that meme?”
Mark chokes on air, his face reddening as he coughs and splutters and you just watch with growing amusement.
“He said that?” Mark squeaks, and you nod with a grin. “I mean—well—”
“Mark, are you agreeing with him?”
“Well—”
“Mark.” Your eyebrows can’t possibly be raised any more than they are now. “Are you saying I look breedable?”
“Oh, my God. How did we get on this topic?” Mark mumbles nervously, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Answer my question.” you press, and he balks.
“I’m not saying that he’s wrong.”
“So you agree? This silly little cardigan makes you wanna breed me?” You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek as you fight back a laugh.
Mark looks like he could faint. “Can we please change the topic?”
“Sure,” you reply easily, and he visibly relaxes, slumping against his chair and exhaling loudly. “You know, I think you should get another kiss.” 
He looks up at you curiously. “Yeah?”
“For your troubles,” you say, shrugging. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips and he nods, making you smile.
Leaning down again, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, Mark turning his head at the last moment and making you kiss him on the lips. 
“For my troubles,” he repeats with a small grin, and you match his expression before an idea pops into your head.
“Maybe you should get another one.”
“Yeah, maybe I should.” He sounds breathless, and you bite back a chuckle.
“I could kiss you here,” you murmur, hovering over his mouth, and he leans forward to connect your lips, frowning when you pull back. Resting your hand on his lap and keeping it there even when he jolts, you look down at where his print is pressing against his sweats, smiling sweetly. “Or I could kiss you here.”
“Oh, shit,” Mark mumbles quietly.
“Is that a no?” you frown, and Mark chuckles, albeit nervously.
“You sound like you want to,” he says.
“Of course I want to,” you snicker. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”
“Oh, God,” he groans, his head falling back against the chair. Taking that as a yes, you sink to your knees and start untying the string in his sweatpants. “Out in the open like this?” he asks anxiously, and you pause to think.
“You’re right,” you muse, crawling under his desk and beckoning him over. When he hesitantly scoots closer, you resume untying the string to his sweats, pulling them down enough to reveal his boxers. Looking up at him with a grin, you press a kiss over his boxers to the underside of his length, smiling when his body goes stiff. “You can go back to playing your game, y’know.”
He lets out a small groan from the back of his throat but nods, reaching for his keyboard again with hands that tremble slightly. You press small kisses over his clothed erection as he starts his game back up, waiting somewhat patiently for him to get back into his rhythm.
When he starts to grow in his boxers, you pull the band of them down to let his length spring free. It slaps against his stomach, visibly flushed, and you wrap your hand around the base, stroking him slowly before wrapping your lips around his tip, licking at the slit leaking precum.
“Oh, fuck—” Mark grunts, his head falling back against his chair as his length twitches in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you start to bob your head up and down his shaft, taking in more of his length every time you move downward. “That feels so good—aw, hell.”
Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you look up at his face. “What happened?”
“I died,” he groans. “A fucking pukei-pukei got me.” 
“Mm,” you hum in acknowledgement as you flatten your tongue and drag it up the length of his shaft, swirling the tip of it around the head of his cock before you speak again. ��I don’t know what that means,” you reply simply, taking him back into your mouth.
“You’re distracting me,” he whines, eyes darting from his screen down to you repeatedly. 
“Pretend I’m not here,” you offer helpfully.
“My dick is in your mouth.” he says flatly, staring at you blankly. “Are you serious right now?”
You pull off of him again, stroking his length with your saliva as lubricant as you lick against the slit in his tip, and he sucks in a loud breath.
“Now it’s not in your mouth.”
“You’re kind of evil, you know that?”
“No, I’m not,” you say with a teasing pout. “You’re mean.”
“I’m mean?” he asks incredulously. 
“Mhm,” you hum as you kiss down his length to his balls. He hisses loudly and his cock twitches in your hand, his body starting to curl in on itself as his abdomen constricts. You lick at them diligently and look up at his reaction, smiling as his eyes are screwed shut. 
“I can’t—fuck, I think I’m gonna—”
“Cum?” you finish for him. “Do it.”
“I can’t, dude, the bet—”
“Mark.” you say flatly, still stroking him as you speak. “I’m giving you a blowjob and you can’t stop calling me ‘dude?’”
“Sorry,” he groans, bucking his hips up towards your mouth again. 
“Just cum, Mark,” you coo, your lips pressed to the underside of his length where his tip and shaft meet. “I’ll let you finish in my mouth,” you offer, and he swears under his breath, gripping the arm of his chair so hard his knuckles turn white.
“Please don’t say that again,” he moans, and you hum questioningly.
“Say what?” you ask, feigning cluelessness. “That I want you to cum in my mouth?”
“Shit,” he gasps, his length starting to throb in your hand and against your mouth.
“I won’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and he whimpers.
“I can’t,” he grunts in defeat, and you sigh in disappointment, pulling away from his length. “No!”
“You can’t cum, right?” you remind him, and his eyes squeeze shut in distress as he looks thoroughly tortured.
“No,” he finally gets out, and you suck your teeth.
“Shame,” you say with a shrug. “What are you gonna do now?”
“Play this game and hope my boner goes down.” he mumbles defeatedly.
You nod. “Sounds good to me.” A moment or two passes before you speak again. “Mark?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you move so I can get out from under your desk?”
“Oh, shit, yeah, sorry—” He scoots back and you get to your feet, running your fingers through his hair gently as a nonverbal apology.
“No problem,” you reply with a smile. “I’m gonna leave you to, uh, deflate your boner.”
“Deflate? It’s not a balloon animal,” Mark snorts, and you shrug.
“Whatever. Have fun with your pika-pika!”
Mark chuckles. “It’s pukei-pukei. Pika-pika is the sound Pikachu makes.”
“Oh. Pikachu is so cute; you should play Pokémon instead.”
“I’ll think about it,” he answers with a small nod. You both know he won’t.
“Good! Oh, and also?”
“Mm?”
“Put your dick away before someone else comes in.” you suggest, pointing at his lap before you wave and head out of his room.
“Thank you!” he calls out as you shut his door, almost colliding with Jaemin. 
“Sorry, Jaem!” you apologize.
Jaemin pats your arm good-naturedly. “No worries.” He doesn’t move for a moment, making you pause. 
“Is there a reason why you’re not moving?”
“I was gonna ask Mark if he wanted to play a game of Overwatch with me,” he explains, jerking his chin in the direction of Mark’s door.
“Oh! Um, he’s not ready just yet—I just got finished, um…well…”
“Yes?”
“His dick was in my mouth.”
“Ah. So he’s hard.”
“Yes.”
Jaemin nods slowly. “I’ll just text him.”
“Good idea.” 
 Monday, November 23rd. 
Your teacher bids you all goodbye and you pack up your things quickly, slinging your bag over your shoulder and waving to your teacher as you exit the classroom. You don’t have to wait long by the door for the person you’re waiting for to come out, Haechan emerging three people after you.
“Thank God we got her off topic for the last thirty minutes,” you sigh in relief, and Haechan snickers as he falls into step with you. “I don’t think I would have lasted the rest of the lecture.”
“She’s so chill, but man, do those lectures make me fall asleep.” Haechan agrees, and you nod with a laugh, squinting as you exit the building and are assaulted with the surprising brightness that is the sky at 4:30pm. 
You two get down the small set of stairs and you turn in the direction of your apartment complex. “See you later,” you say with a wave, but Haechan’s hand closes around your wrist immediately, startling you and stopping you from walking any farther. 
“Where are you going?” Haechan sounds puzzled and petulant, and you turn back around, looking from where he’s holding your wrist to his face with an expression every bit as puzzled as he sounds.
“Home,” you answer slowly, blinking at him in confusion. 
“What if we hung out?” Haechan suggests, tugging you a bit closer. “You can come over.”
“And do what?” you ask, and he pauses to think.
“I was gonna play Overwatch for a bit before I did homework; you could watch me,” he offers hopefully, and you tap your chin thoughtfully.
“Y’know, I was actually gonna go watch paint dry, and that’s kinda gonna take up my whole afternoon, so—”
“Oh, shut up and just come hang out with me,” Haechan grouches as you laugh at your own joke, eventually unable to hold back his laughter at how visibly amused you are.
“You’re just gonna ignore me for at least an hour while you play.”
“I won’t ignore you,” he promises. You don’t believe him.
“I don’t know,” you sigh, dragging out the last word, and Haechan sucks his teeth and yanks your bag off of your shoulder, slinging it onto his own. “Hello?”
“Hello.” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you roll your eyes. 
“Why did you take my bag?”
“I’m going home. This bag is coming with me. If you care about it, you’ll come with me.” Haechan speaks slowly, a smug little grin curling his lips when you grumble under your breath.
“Come on.” You push between his shoulder blades, guiding him forward. “Let’s go. You’d better have snacks.”
“Of course I do,” Haechan replies, offended. “Do you think I’m a monster?”
“Yes, actually, I do.”
“You little—”
“Walk!”
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You feel played. Played, scammed, used, bamboozled, and any other synonyms you’re forgetting.
It’s been 45 minutes since you got to Haechan’s room, he hasn’t graced you with the sight of anything but his back as he immerses himself in his game, and you just ran out of gummy worms.
“Haechan, why did you even invite me if you’re not gonna, I don’t know, talk to me?” you complain.
“I’m almost done with this game, I swear.” Haechan assures you, and you grumble incoherently as he returns his full attention to the game, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. “Jesus fucking Christ, can Sombra get off my ass—”
“I hope Sombra gets you.” you mutter under your breath bitterly, not knowing what that even means. 
You want revenge. And, as you study Haechan’s figure from behind, you come up with a pretty good idea of how you’re going to get it. You planned to mess with him in a different way—hence your precautionary measures of wearing matching underwear and putting a bit more effort into your appearance before class today—but this new method can’t hurt.
You take off your chunky knit sweater, balling it up and chucking it at his back. He grunts at the impact and turns back to shoot you a brief affronted glare, but the irritation wipes right off his face when he takes in the sight of your thin tank top you’re wearing underneath the sweater. It leaves little to the imagination, to be frank, the neckline dipping to reveal a bit of your cleavage, and the shirt rides up easily—very easily. You lock eyes with him once he’s finished staring at your newly revealed skin and blink expectantly.
“What?”
“You hurled your thick ass sweater at me, and you have the nerve to ask me ‘what?’” Haechan snorts incredulously, and you nod.
“Yes, yes, I do.”
“When my back bruises from that attack, I’m making you kiss it better,” he huffs, turning back around to focus on the game.
“Yeah, whatever,” you mutter to yourself, already thinking about your next move. You shift positions, lying down on your stomach, making sure your shirt does its job of riding up to reveal a sliver of skin around your waist. You pick up your phone and pretend to be engrossed for a while until you sigh loudly.
Haechan turns to face you again, no doubt prepared to tell you to shut up, but—yet again—he finds himself speechless as his eyes greedily rake over your body, lingering on the bare skin of your waist and the curve of your ass in your leggings. 
“Why are you sighing?”
“I want to go home.”
“Don’t go home,” he says immediately, “I swear I’m almost done. Our DPS keeps dying and the healers keep running off on their own—”
“Oh, well, if the healers are just out here running off on their own, we can’t have that.” you snark.
If Haechan notices your sarcasm, he doesn’t comment. “Yeah, I need them to get on the goddamn payload so I can—”
“Haechan, I don’t know what any of these words mean.” you gripe, and he sighs.
“The payload is—”
“Oh, let me be clearer. I don’t know, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.” 
“Such a sassy little puppy,” Haechan snickers, and you hesitate.
“Puppy?”
“Yeah, puppy. It’s cute, like you. It fits.”
He’s got a point—it is a cute nickname. But for some reason, the fluttering feeling of delight (and budding arousal) you get in your stomach when he uses it makes you feel like being a contrarian.
“Don’t call me that.” 
“Why not?”
You balk. “I don’t like it.”
“You’ll warm up to it,” he says confidently, and you glare at him petulantly, trying your best to hide that you’ve already more than warmed up to it.
“Whatever,” you huff, and he chuckles quietly, raking his eyes over your frame again and wetting his lips before turning back around.
You can’t help but roll your eyes at how easy he is to mess with. 
You don’t make a peep for the next fifteen minutes, your silence unnerving Haechan to the point where he turns around several times unprompted. He’s not even met with eye contact from you as you essentially ignore him in his own room, and you can feel it driving him insane.
Sure enough, in a moment, the monitor he’s using goes black in your peripheral vision and he stands up, stretching before walking over to you and standing by the side of the bed.
You don’t look up. “What?”
It’s his turn to sigh now, his fingers lightly tickling at the back of your ankle as he waits to have your attention. “I’m bored.”
“Sucks.”
He sucks his teeth, fingers grazing up the back of your calf and resting in the dip behind your knee. “Play with me.”
“I don’t play video games.”
“Not video games.”
“Unless you’re feeling up to getting your ass beat in a game of checkers, I don’t know what game we could play.”
“Oh, my God, stop being difficult.” Haechan groans, squeezing the back of your thigh. 
You finally look up at him and almost wish you hadn’t. He’s looking at you like he wants to devour you and it weakens your resolve ever so slightly.
You pout up at him. “I like being difficult.”
He stares at you impassively for a moment before realization clicks on his face. “I know what this is about.” 
“What what’s about?” you reply huffily, and he grins as he moves to sit on the bed on top of you, his knees on either side of your legs. 
“You’re upset because I didn’t talk to you while I was gaming, aren’t you?” Haechan asks with a knowing lilt to his voice. 
You don’t say anything for a moment. “I am not upset,” you lie.
“Aw,” Haechan coos, both hands gliding up the backs of your thighs and stopping just below your ass. You feel him shift on top of you and a moment later, his breath fans over your ear. “Did puppy need my attention?”
The way you tense under him is surely noticeable, and that annoyingly pleased fluttering feeling in your stomach returns. However, you’re still annoyed with him.
“Don’t call me that.” you grouch, and he chuckles, lips brushing your ear ever so lightly before he sits back up.
“Stop liking it, and maybe I won't.” Haechan retorts, and you say nothing yet again, scrolling aimlessly through Twitter. He lets the silence hang between you two as he kneads the backs of your thighs, but breaks it when he brings his hands to trace his fingers along the bare skin between your shirt and your leggings. “It’s the middle of fall and you’re in this flimsy little shirt.”
“It’s called wearing layers, nincompoop.”
“It’s practically as thin as toilet paper,” he quips back, and you huff as he pushes it up to reveal more of your back. “I could rip this right off of you,” he muses thoughtfully.
“Do not let the intrusive thoughts win, Haechan,” you comment drily, and he hums softly in acknowledgement, although it sounds awfully dismissive. “And put my shirt back down.”
“It’s not like it’s serving any purpose.” Haechan counters, and you groan, moving to sit up. Haechan presses down on your back between your shoulder blades, flattening you against the bed once more, and you let out an irritated sigh. “Only thing it’s doing is turning me on, actually.”
“That sounds awfully personal.”
“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re being a brat.” Haechan pretends to swoon and you snicker despite yourself. “Come on, I’m bored!” He shifts his weight to his heels so he’s not sitting on you anymore and smacks your ass once, ignoring your yelp as he rolls you onto your back. 
“That sounds,” you say slowly, deliberately stressing every syllable as you look up at him with a bored expression, “like a you problem.”
“I’m about to make it your problem, actually.” Haechan smiles down at you, shifting his weight forward again so he’s sitting on your thighs. “Because in addition to being bored, now I’m feeling a little riled up from this little outfit you have on.”
“So?” 
“So,” Haechan stresses the word as he leans down closer to you, “I need you to be a good puppy—”
“Stop calling me that—”
“—and indulge me for a bit.” He finishes his sentence in a softer voice than he started out with, nudging the tip of your nose with his playfully. “Gimme a kiss.”
He advances on you even further, lips now but a breath away from each other, and flicks at your bottom lip with his tongue. You play coy, having fun with riling him up, and turn your head to the side to avoid his kiss.
“Aw, come on, puppy.” Haechan teases affectionately, his nose tracing down your jawline before he brushes his parted lips against your neck. “Don’t get all shy on me now. Where’d that attitude go?”
“Still here,” you mumble stubbornly, and he chuckles.
“So let me give you the attention you so desperately wanted earlier,” he offers, sounding more smug than ever, and you splutter indignantly, turning back to glare at him.
“I was not desperate—” you begin to protest, but Haechan flashes you a triumphant grin before leaning in and sealing the gap between his lips and yours. You whine almost instantly under him, body thrumming with excitement as he moves his lips against yours and teases them apart to guide his tongue into your mouth.
When his tongue strokes against yours for the first time, he groans in delight and breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you both take deep breaths. 
“You taste like candy.” Haechan murmurs appreciatively.
“It’s probably the gummy worms,” you remind him, and he nods thoughtfully. 
“Well, whatever it is, I can’t get enough of it,” he confesses, barely giving you a chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. His hips pin yours to the bed, his body pressing down on yours so firmly that you’re not sure if you could get up on your own.
Not that you’re complaining.
His hand moves quickly, on a mission as he slips it between you two and slides under the waistband of your leggings. He strokes at your core through the underwear, a wicked smile curling his lips when he feels the damp spot from your arousal.
“Poor puppy,” he coos in mock sympathy, pressing against your clit hard enough to make you whimper. “All you wanted was my attention, yeah?”
“Don’t call me puppy,” you whine, and he kisses down your neck to suck and kiss above your pulse point.
“I know you like it,” he pants, his breath fanning over your neck, “you know you like it; why fight it?”
“Shut up,” you complain, your hips moving up to meet his teasing touches. 
“Fine,” Haechan murmurs, seeming to let it go (which you find suspicious). “How about ‘baby?’”
“I like ‘baby,’” you mumble, jolting in surprise when he finds your clit through your underwear. “‘Baby’ is good.”
“Glad we agree.” He doesn’t say much else, returning his attention to occupying his lips, which are lazily mouthing at your neck, and fingers, which are teasingly dipping into your underwear. 
Getting fed up with his taunting, you squeeze your legs together tightly, letting out a small “hmph” of finality, and he chuckles, withdrawing his fingers.
“I knew you wanted to play.” He nips at your neck one last time before lifting his head and ghosting his lips against yours. His fingers dig between where your thighs meet, poking, prodding, and pinching as he tries to force his hand between your legs. “Baby,” he purrs, voice low and sweet, “be good and let me in.”
You just huff again, trying (and ultimately failing) to suppress your growing smile at his persistent attack on your legs.
“Fine,” he says with a shrug, retracting his hand from between your legs. “You leave me no choice.” His fingers immediately press into your sides, tickling you, and you shriek with laughter, squirming helplessly under him. 
He watches you with a glint in his eyes and a grin on his face as he sits up, now using both hands to torment you.
You, meanwhile, have tears welling up in your eyes from how hard you’re laughing, and you weakly hit at his chest, your muscles seizing up from the attack.
“Stop!” you gasp, pushing at his hands desperately. “I’m sorry!”
“Are you really?” He raises an eyebrow, and you nod vigorously in agreement.
“I am! I’m so—please—I’m so sorry!” you cry pleadingly, and he moves so quickly that you don’t even get time to process the situation until he’s done. He pushes your hands above your head, gripping your wrists with one hand, and brings his free hand back between your legs.
“So you’ll be good?” That damn eyebrow is getting to you, the brow still raised as he cocks his head at you.
“Yes,” you say with a frown, and he coos in mock sympathy, kissing you and slipping his hand into your underwear. He looks down at where your bodies meet and traces circles all over your skin, slowly inching lower and lower until he brushes past your clit and parts your folds, looking back up at you with a cocky smile.
“You’re already so wet,” he teases, wetting his lips before he dips his head down to kiss your neck. “Do you want me inside?”
“Yes,” you breathe, and he grins against your neck.
“Yeah? Want my fingers inside you?” He’s teasing you again, urging you to ask for his fingers, and your patience starts to dwindle.
“Yes,” you repeat through your clenched teeth.
He hums thoughtfully and pushes his fingers into you slowly, removing his lips from your neck to watch you as you moan in relief. “That’s a good puppy,” he purrs as he drinks in your reactions to his experimental movements of his fingers. 
“Not puppy,” you whine, but he silences you with a kiss, moving his fingers in and out of you quickly. 
“I think you like it,” he mumbles, biting down on your bottom lip gently before bringing his lips to your ear. “Don’t you, puppy?” Your moan slips out accidentally, and he inhales sharply when you clench around his fingers. “Knew it.”
His fingers curl inside of you slowly, drawing out a whimper from you as he strokes along your inner walls, in search of your most sensitive spot. Your hips rock up into his hand, craving more of him, and he responds by pushing your hips back down and giving you exactly what you want. He pushes his fingers deeper, as deep as they can go, and his fingers finally find the spot along your walls that makes you moan and clutch at his arm desperately.
“There—right there—fuck,” you say breathlessly, and he nods, keeping his pace and using his thumb to massage your clit in eager circles that bring you closer to your climax.
“You wanna cum?” Haechan coos, and you nod vigorously, making a smirk curl his lips. “Say you’re my puppy.”
“Wh-what?” You stammer, confused, and he slows his pace, making you grasp his arm tightly in panic. “Don’t stop!”
“What are you?” he presses, moving at a frustratingly slow rhythm. You cry out weakly, and he raises an eyebrow. “Hm?”
“I’m—Haechan, please—”
“Say it, and I’ll make you feel so good. Whose puppy are you?”
“I’m yours—” you whimper, and he nods encouragingly.
“My what?”
“Your puppy, Haechan, please—” you beg, and he grins widely, nodding again.
“Cum for me, puppy.” Haechan urges you, and you finally let go, the coil in your stomach snapping and letting pleasure wash over you. Your nails dig into Haechan’s arm so hard that you’re sure you’ll owe him an apology, and he hisses, the sound a mixture of pain and pleasure, as you whimper his name and “please” over and over again. “God, I want to feel that when I’m inside you so bad.”
“You can,” you say with a smile, propping yourself up on your forearms. “You can fuck me.”
“Fuck, don’t say that,” Haechan grunts, his expression tortured. “I can’t—”
“You can,” you urge, pushing yourself up onto your hands and bringing your face to his. “You don’t even have to fuck me entirely—you can just put in the tip.” When he opens his eyes and looks at you, his expression is defeated, hopeful, and delightedly vulnerable. “Come on, Haechan. Just the tip,” you murmur, your lips a centimeter apart.
He stares at your lips in a daze before nodding slowly. “Just the tip.”
He makes quick work of discarding his pants and pushing his boxers down so his length springs up and lightly slaps against his stomach, and he looks up at you and chuckles, the sound a bit bashful. “Stop looking at me like that.” 
You hadn’t realized you were looking at him in any particular way. “Like what?”
“Like you’re about to eat me alive.” Haechan mumbles, and you smile.
“So, the way you look at me all the time?”
“Yeah, like that.” Haechan grins cheekily and hovers over you, his hand moving to the base of his length and gripping it. When you don’t move and stay propped up, watching him with a challenge in your eyes, he pauses. “What is it?”
“I wanna be on top,” you reply simply, and he shakes his head.
“Too bad. I wanna be on top.” 
You stare at him defiantly.
He stares back at you stubbornly.
You raise an eyebrow.
He looks from your eyes to your lips and back up before he groans in defeat and sits against his headboard. “Fine.”
“Yay,” you say with a wide smile, shimmying out of your leggings and underwear and moving to straddle his lap. You wrap your hand around his on his length and slowly stroke him up and down. “You’re so big, Haechan.”
“Thank you, puppy,” Haechan coos teasingly, bumping his nose against yours as you position yourself on top of him, bringing the head of his length to your entrance. He rubs the tip against your folds, collecting your arousal to use as a lubricant. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, easing yourself down. To your disappointment, Haechan uses his fist as an obstacle to prevent you from sitting all the way down on his length, so you really do get just the tip. The stretch isn’t unwelcome at all, your walls slowly adjusting to his size, and you let out a shaky moan that he echoes when you clench around him. “Feels so good, Haechan,” you mumble, resting your forehead against his. 
“So fucking good, baby.” Haechan agrees, his fist slipping a bit further down his length and making him hiss. 
“Just a little more? It’ll be okay, I just need a little more,” you plead, pouting for good measure, and his face scrunches up in thought. “Please?” You tilt his head up and carefully slot your lips with his, kissing him slowly but deeply as your walls tighten around him.
“Just a little more,” Haechan gives in with a shudder, and you smile as you ease down further, Haechan groaning and thumping his head against his headboard repeatedly in distress. “Maybe a little more, baby.” 
You can barely hide your sneaky smile as you oblige, easing down on his length even more, and he moans weakly, his head tipping back. You lean forward and kiss his neck, sucking lovely little marks into his skin, and he grabs your hips with both hands, fingers digging into the skin as he tilts his head back more to allow you better access.
“More?” Your lips are pressed to his heated skin as you speak, and he groans before shaking his head.
“I can’t, baby. Feels like I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, and you whine as you squeeze around him, carefully studying his reactions. His hips hold you firmly in place so you can’t move further down on him, and his breathing is heavy, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck—do not do that again.”
“Do what? This?” You clench again, and he lets out a strangled groan, hands squeezing your hips harder as a warning. “What about this?” You lift yourself up, pulling off of him most of the way, and sitting back down. He swears so loudly that you momentarily hope no one else is home and his resolve visibly weakens, his hold on your hips loosening enough to let you slowly ease down all the way onto him, a relieved sigh escaping you as he shudders, a moan vibrating in his chest. “Just cum, Haechan,” you coax in his ear, nipping at the lobe gently. “You know you want to.”
“I’m not losing this bet.” He sounds determined, but even a fool could detect the waver in his resilience. 
“But doesn’t this feel so good?” You rock your hips forward onto him, and he exhales loudly through gritted teeth, nodding vigorously.
“Feels amazing, baby.” Haechan agrees, finally tipping his head forward to look at you. “Which is why you’re going to cum, and I’m going to watch.”
“Only way I’m going to cum is if you do it with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Haechan snorts dismissively, and you raise an eyebrow, already pulling off of him. His eyes fly open and he yanks you back down onto him, realizing a moment too late what he’s done. Pleasure shoots through his body so strongly that you can practically track its movement through the shudders that travel through him, and he drops his head onto your chest in defeat.
“Are you gonna cum?” you ask, and he shakes his head hesitantly, making you sigh. “Then I’m leaving.” Before he can move to stop you, you push his hands off of you and pull off of him, toughening up to mask the strange, now empty sensation between your legs. 
“God, you’re evil.” He stares at you, aghast, and you shrug, pulling on your leggings and underwear. You climb off of the bed and grab your sweater from where it fell after hitting Haechan, and his eyes widen. “You’re seriously leaving?” 
“Yep.”
“At least—” he starts, and you hesitate as you prepare to pull your sweater over your head. “At least let me make you cum again,” he offers, wild eyes roving over you desperately. “With my mouth.”
“As tempting as that sounds,” you hum, pulling the sweater over your head and fixing it at the bottom, “no. You might pounce on me afterwards, and if you’re not cumming, it’s no fun.”
“Okay, fair. I definitely might pounce on you.” Haechan sighs, rubbing his chin as he watches you get ready to leave. “You’d let me though; you can’t resist me.”
“What makes you think that?” You laugh, and he looks at you with an unimpressed stare.
“I just seduced the fuck out of you,” he points out, and you barely stifle your laugh.
“Haechan.” You stare at him incredulously. “Do you seriously think this was all your idea?”
“Duh?”
You sigh, lifting up your sweater and shirt enough to show him your lacy blue bra. His eyes widen before they darken, and you roll your eyes as he wets his lips, shifting closer to you. You drop your shirt and sweater back into place and pull your leggings down just enough to give him a peek of your lacy underwear in the identical shade of blue. “I wore matching underwear today. This was never not my intention.” You fix your clothing again as he gapes at you in disbelief.
“So you used me for my body?!” Haechan exclaims, his horrified expression dropping in favor of a pensive one. “Why is that kind of hot?”
You pause in the middle of lacing up your boots, shooting him a concerned look. “I think the counseling office is still open if you wanna book a session.”
“Ha, ha.” Haechan laughs sarcastically, scooting to the edge of his bed. You look around for your bag, and he gestures to it sitting just by his bed. You go over to look through it for your headphones, and Haechan eyes you wordlessly as you do.
“Anyway, I have business to attend to.” You straighten up with your headphones in your hand and shoulder your bag, moving to leave. Haechan’s hand shoots out and grabs your arm, yanking you back to him so you’re standing between his legs. He’s readjusted his pants, you notice, and he’s staring up at you with a doubtful frown.
“What business do you have to attend to?” He pokes his fingers through the knitting of your sweater with a petulant expression. “If you say watching paint dry again, I swear to God—”
“Relax, it’s not watching paint dry.” You laugh and he chuckles, not looking up at you yet. “My business is being somewhere that’s not here.”
“You little—”
“Besides,” you continue loudly as if he hasn’t interjected, “I have my vibrator waiting at home to finish what you started.” Haechan stills, slowly looking up at you and scanning your face for any sign of a joke.
You give no such indication, and he closes his eyes and breathes in loudly through his nose, exhaling out of his mouth. He releases you, eyes gazing at you with an unreadable expression. “Yeah, you’d better get going.”
“Why the sudden change?” you ask curiously, and he shamelessly looks you up and down.
“I’m feeling…pounce-y.” 
“Okay, then!” You nod in understanding and step back, backing towards his door. “Have fun thinking about…whatever you gotta think about to make that go away,” you snicker, gesturing at the obvious bulge in his pants.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Haechan grumbles bitterly, standing up and making his way over to his gaming chair. “See you later.”
“Bye,” you sing-song, wiggling your fingers at him in a wave. “I’ll think of you while I do it.”
“If you don’t get out of my room—”
“Okay, bye!” 
Friday, November 28th. 
You’re sitting at home pretending to do your homework when your phone lights up. You practically pounce on it, eager for a distraction, and look at your lock screen to see a text message from Mark.
mark: hey
you: hiii i’m bored
mark: me too 
mark: i’m at work on my lunch break
you: ohhh i’m “doing homework”
mark: hahaha that doesn’t sound fun
you: it’s not :/ this essay is due december 3rd though so i gotta get it done
mark: december’s so close wow
mark: i’m so happy november’s almost over
And with his last text, Mark gives you a very good idea of how you could best spend your time this afternoon. You root through your underwear drawer and take out one of your nicer sets of underwear and a bra, putting them on and putting your old t-shirt back on, ditching the sweatpants you were wearing. 
you: yeah
you: hey mark can you help me choose something?
mark: sure what’s up?
Actually, why not mess with both of them at the same time?
you: actually hang on one sec
[you have created a group chat.]
[you have added ‘mark’ to the chat.]
[you have added ‘haechan’ to the chat.]
you: hii i need your opinions on something
mark: why the group chat haha
you: it’s faster than texting you both separately :)
haechan: what’s up? i’m in class right now
A mischievous smile curls your lips as you take a picture of your outfit, making sure the t-shirt is high up enough on your thighs to make it clear there are no shorts underneath. 
you: should i wear this to sleep?
you: Attachment: 1 image
haechan: oh my god
mark: shit
you: or should i take the t-shirt off?
haechan: take it off.
mark: haechan shut up it’s still november
you: what do you think, mark?
mark: keep the shirt on 
mark: please. i’m still at work
you: :( but it’s hot in my room
haechan: yeah mark it’s hot in her room
haechan: take it off, baby
mark: dude do you like being blue balled or something 
You pull the t-shirt off and toss it on your chair by your desk, angling your body to take the most flattering picture of your lingerie set. When you’re satisfied with the picture, you send it to the group chat, giggling as you wait for their responses.
you: Attachment: 1 image
you: is this better?
haechan: you are so fucking hot
haechan: mark tell her how hot she is
mark: don’t tell me what to do haechan
haechan: i will not get cheated out of nudes because you don’t know how to give a compliment
you: it’s okay, haechan :p mark’s at work so he’s busy too 
mark: exactly. you look very attractive btw
[you loved ‘exactly. you look very attractive btw’]
[haechan disliked ‘exactly. you look very attractive btw’]
haechan: “very attractive” what a nerd
haechan: you should just text me now. mark’s ungrateful
mark: haechan shut. the fuck. up.
you: thank you mark :) should i do what haechan says?
haechan: yes do what haechan says
mark: haechan i will piss in your shampoo
mark: don’t you dare stop texting this group chat
you: oooh bossy 
you: that’s hot
haechan: god i can’t stop looking at those pictures baby
you: i’m glad you like them :) but i have another problem now :(
mark: what’s that?
haechan: what’s wrong?
you: i’m lonely :( i’m home all alone with no one to keep me company
mark: you’re killing me
mark: you’re actually going to be the death of me
haechan: ignore him keep talking
haechan: god i wish i wasn’t in class right now
you: yeah? where do you wish you were?
haechan: honestly? 
haechan: with you. on you. under you. in you for sure
mark: haechan in front of my lunch? seriously?
haechan: not my fault you don’t have game
mark: dude stop testing me
you: mark i wish you were here too :(
mark: oh my god don’t do this someone just walked into the break room
Another idea comes to you, and you angle the camera at your body again, this time starting a video. You cup your breast and squeeze it, humming contently before trailing your hand down your stomach and between your legs where you slip it into your underwear, sighing in relief right as you stop filming.
you: Attachment: 1 video
mark: no fucking way
haechan: oh my god
There’s a pause in their replies as they presumably watch the video you sent and you take the moment of silence to think about your next moves.
haechan: you sound so pretty
haechan: so fucking pretty baby
mark: i’m going to pass out i think
mark: why are you doing this???
you: because i like when you both pay attention to me. remember?
haechan: i can pay attention to you way better than mark can
mark: you can’t even pay attention to the damn class you’re in right now.
haechan: who gives a rat’s ass what Professor Park has to say when there’s a hot girl’s pictures in my phone??????
haechan: anyway. baby can i hear you again?
mark: dude i’m getting hard right now can you not 
you: stop calling me dude :(
mark: sorry
mark: what should i call you?
you: up to you—just not dude
mark: okay
you: or bro
mark: aw hell
While Mark takes the time to think, you send a video of your legs slowly spreading as your hand moves in your underwear, concealing what they undoubtedly want to see most as you play with your clit. When the pleasure starts to build, you let out a small whimper and speed your movements up, stopping the video right after your legs close around your hand reflexively.
you: Attachment: 1 video
haechan: god thank you so much
haechan: such pretty sounds baby
mark: babe please my dick is so hard right now 
haechan: join the club i’ve been straining against my pants for the past five minutes
you: pics or it didn’t happen
haechan: Attachment: 1 image
mark: i’m in public!!!!!
haechan: and you think i’m not??? 
mark: i can’t send a pic right now
haechan: pussy.
mark: fuck you
mark: Attachment: 1 image
You smile in satisfaction at the sight of both of their pictures. Mark’s picture is of him both gripping and trying to conceal the noticeable bulge in his pants, while Haechan is proudly gripping the base of his shaft, not even trying to hide himself.
you: thank you :) god you’re both so big
you: wish i had you both taking turns filling me up :(
haechan: why stop at taking turns?
you: i like the way you think
mark: okay this is fun and all but i need this boner to go down immediately i have to go back to work soon
you: okay! i’ll stop :)
haechan: WHAT
haechan: NO
haechan: i have like twenty minutes left of class please keep sending gifts baby
you: no i can’t :/ mark’s got a point—you shouldn’t be getting hard in public
you: it’s public indecency :////
haechan: fuck the public
you: fuck me instead
haechan: don’t tempt me
you: too bad it’s still november :( have fun not jerking off
mark: wait a minute
mark: you’ve been fucking with us on purpose all month haven’t you
you: ? idk what you’re talking about
mark: oh my god
haechan: wait mark’s right
you: :( okay you got me
you: are you mad at me :(
mark: no you’re just in for it
haechan: for once i agree with mark. watch your back baby
you: pfft watch my back for what? yOuR rEvEnGe?
mark: yeah just keep laughing babe. i gotta go back to work
you: i’m gonna go finish myself off then finish my essay. have fun with your boners! :)
haechan: you’re actually wicked
you: :(
haechan: it’s hot.
you: :)
You put your phone down and reach into your nightstand drawer for your vibrator, giggling under your breath as you think about the conversation you just had. Sure, they figured out you were making things hard—no pun intended—for them on purpose, and they’re probably going to get some sort of revenge, but you figure that’s a problem for Future You to handle.
 Tuesday, December 1st.
Yeah, so…it is now officially a problem for Future You to handle. 
When Haechan texted you asking if you wanted to get lunch with him, you almost agreed before remembering the last interaction you had when you sent him videos and pictures of yourself while he was in class.
When you declined, and his response was “smart girl,” you realized you may be in a bit over your head.
If that wasn’t bad enough, you caught Mark staring at you with an unreadable look from across the student center when you went to meet Lia for lunch (an hour after Haechan asked you, to avoid seeing him). When he started to make his way over to you, you grabbed Lia’s wrist and disappeared into the throng of people passing by.
If that wasn’t bad enough, in your last class you went to, you saw Haechan looking in the window, smirking when he caught sight of you. He brought his index and middle finger to his mouth, spread them, and wagged his tongue between them in an obscene gesture that had you gasping and drawing the attention of your seatmate. When you looked back at the window, he was gone, but your phone lit up with a text. 
haechan: found you :)
So you’ve spent the last half of your day hiding in your apartment, turning off your phone location and holing yourself up in your room.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” Yeji snickers when you jump at the sound of the doorbell. Lia pats your hand comfortingly before she heads over to get the door.
“You didn’t see how they looked at me today!” you whisper-yell back at her, brows furrowing.
“No, she’s got a point,” Lia chimes in, drawing your and Yeji’s attention as she returns from getting the door with a package in her arms. After a moment, she continues, “I mean, Mark was…I’ve never seen him look like that.”
“Right?!” you exclaim, relieved Lia gets it.
“I mean, worst case scenario is that they fuck you. And if this month has been any indication, you clearly want that, so��”
“Yeah, but what if they team up and get all evil?” you counter, and Lia scoffs.
“Threesomes are rarer than people think. What are the odds they’re both gonna decide to team up and share you?” Lia replies, and you frown.
“Yeji, back me up here!” you whine, looking at her, but she raises both hands and walks towards the hallway. 
“I’m going to my room. As a wise man once said, ‘no fighting.’”
You and Lia pause. 
“Who said that?” Lia raises an eyebrow and you both stare at Yeji in confusion.
“Wyclef Jean.” Yeji answers. You and Lia look at each other and back at Yeji. “In ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ by Shakira?” she tries again. You and Lia stare at her blankly. “Forget it. No one in this house appreciates my genius.” She turns and heads off to her room and a moment passes between you and Lia before she stands up as well, walking backwards towards the hallway leading to her room.
“You’re safe,” Lia assures you. As she turns around and walks away, you hear her mutter, “probably.”
“Hey!”
Tumblr media
About an hour later, the doorbell rings again.
“Can someone get that?” Lia calls out from the bathroom. “It’s probably my other package!”
“Why can’t you get it?” Yeji calls back.
“I’m getting dressed from taking a shower!”
You and Yeji emerge from your rooms for a quick round of rock, paper, scissors—which you lose.
“Damn it.” You roll your eyes and walk to the front door as Yeji heads back to her room. You open the door to see no one—but there is a package on your doorstep like Lia said. 
“This girl and her online shopping addiction,” you mumble, stooping to pick it up. You move to shut the door but it stops unexpectedly, a shoe jammed in the way. Your eyes widen. 
You know that shoe.
“Oh, shit.” 
The body attached to the familiar shoe shoulders his way past the door, Haechan standing in front of you with raised eyebrows and a smug smile.
“Oh, shit.” Haechan echoes you tauntingly, stepping towards you. You watch as Mark enters after him, shutting the door behind himself. 
You look at them.
They look at you.
You turn on your heel, drop the package, and make a run for it.
You take off down the hallway to your room as their rapid footsteps thunder after you. You can’t help but shriek in panic (and, if you’re honest, a bit of delight) as they chase you further into the apartment, your heart racing as you clear your doorway and turn to shut the door. 
One of them is quicker, however, and shoves his shoulder in the space, keeping the door from shutting. Unfortunately, the two of them are stronger than you, you learn very quickly as they force the door wide open and bombard their way into the room. 
Haechan wastes absolutely no time, stepping forward and shoving you none too gently onto your bed before climbing on top of you. It feels like there’s a scream stuck in your throat as he roughly pins your arms above your head with one hand, cupping your chin with the other. 
Bringing his lips to your ear, Haechan speaks slowly, stressing every syllable. “We’re gonna fuck the shit out of you.” Mark’s busying himself with sliding his hands up your thighs and yanking your shorts down your legs, and you wriggle under Haechan’s body, crossing your legs stubbornly.
“Yeji and Lia are home!” you exclaim, raising your voice in an attempt to get the attention of at least one of them. As if on cue, you hear the unmistakable sound of the front door unlocking.
“No, we’re not!” Lia calls out, and the door slams shut, the locks clicking into place.
“Oh, fuck.” You can barely get the words out before Haechan seals his lips over yours, kissing you deeply. 
“You are such a tease,” Mark grunts through gritted teeth, presumably giving you a taste of your own medicine as he wrenches your legs apart. The thrill of being chased with the inevitable ending of getting fucked stupid has you positively buzzing with excitement, some of that excitement manifesting as a slick little damp stain on the seat of your underwear. 
You move to protest, but Haechan slips his tongue in your mouth the second your lips part, your complaint melting against his tongue as he works the pink muscle against your own.
Mark’s chuckle lets you know he’s caught sight of the wet spot, and he presses two fingers against the stain, pushing the digits against you so insistently that you could almost swear Mark is trying to finger you with your flimsy underwear as a condom.
“Left us high and dry so many times last month,” Haechan scolds you, mouth still pressed against yours. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“Bet you had fun thinking about blue-balling us, didn’t you?” Mark asks, and you jerk your head to the side to break the kiss Haechan refuses to let up on, loudly sucking in a greedy breath before you speak.
“I did.” you retort, smiling sweetly. “I had some really good orgasms thinking about you two, too.” 
“You can be smug all you want,” Haechan chuckles, his lips sponging wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. “Let’s see how smug you are when we’re done with you.” His words excite you even more, an eager whimper falling from your lips as Mark withdraws his fingers from you and pulls your underwear to the side. 
You feel the warmth of his breath as he exhales against your core and it makes you that much more impatient, letting out a grunt of frustration as you buck your hips up towards his mouth. 
“You played with us all of November,” Haechan reminds you, pushing your hips back down. “It’s our turn to play with you.”
“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” Mark groans as he rests what you assume to be his cheek on your inner thigh, depriving you of any sort of actual contact. 
“Oh, my God, do something!” you complain after a painfully long time of waiting. It was probably less than fifteen seconds, really, but you’re incredibly worked up and not in the mood to take your time.
“Haechan, shut her up.” Mark mutters, and Haechan chuckles. 
“Gladly.” he replies, and two fingers are pressing at your lips insistently. “Open up.” Any other time, you’d have the wherewithal to be embarrassed by how easily you comply with his order, but today, you’ll let it slide. Your lips part readily and your tongue lolls out, Haechan humming in impressed delight as he presses the pads of his fingers to your tongue. 
You suck on his fingers lazily, your eyes already glazing over with pleasure from having some sort of touch, and Mark takes the opportunity to attach his mouth to your core, dragging his tongue up and down your folds with an almost animalistic fervor. 
Your moan of surprise is muffled by Haechan’s fingers as he releases your wrists, pulls your shirt up past your breasts, and slips his hand under you to unclip your bra with surprising ease. He yanks your bra off with rushed, jerky movements, immediately latching onto your nipple and sucking at the stiffened bud, swirling his tongue around it.
“Shit,” you whine, muffled still by Haechan’s fingers, and he just chuckles from around your nipple, the resulting vibrations feeling heavenly. 
Mark’s tongue explores your folds as he groans, loud and pleased, the almost ticklish sensation making arousal flutter in the pit of your stomach. He tucks one of your legs over his shoulder, moving in so close that when his tongue prods at your entrance, his nose rubs against your clit.
Haechan flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his free hand groping your other breast and pinching at the bud until you hiss in pleasure and arch your back. He buries his face in your chest at the same time that Mark’s tongue pushes past your entrance and you squeal in delight, your hands both flying to their heads, tugging their hair to pull them closer to you.
Mark’s so lost in the sensation of his tongue peeking inside your core and the taste of you that he barely notices, a weak groan slipping out presumably without his knowledge. Haechan, however, responds by taking your nipple between his teeth and biting down ever so slightly until you try to squirm away, at which point he kisses it and switches to your other breast to repeat his earlier ministrations.
You’re on cloud nine at this point, your hips rolling up to get you closer to Mark’s mouth, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan as he throws one arm over your stomach to pin you in place, his tongue retreating from your core in favor of lapping at the arousal leaking from you.
“You like that, yeah?” Mark’s voice is throaty, thick from desire and lack of use, and when you whimper in affirmation, he lets out a breathless but cocky laugh before pushing two fingers into you, guiding the digits into you with no prior warning and carefully working you open as you get used to the slight stretch. “Yeah, I know you fucking like it,” he murmurs more to himself than you, his mind reeling with how his lips are still carrying the taste of you as he opens you up with his fingers, pumping and curling them rhythmically. 
Haechan sits up, moving off of you to kneel by your side, pulls his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva webbing between his fingers and your lips, and chuckles smugly as he smears the spit over your lips messily. Your cheeks burn in humiliation when he swipes under your lips to display more spit on his fingers.
“Mark, she’s drooling.” Haechan says with a mischievous sort of glee, and Mark hums in acknowledgement, brows furrowed in concentration as he finger-fucks you. “You’re making a pathetic little mess of yourself and you haven’t even cum yet.”
Mark meets your gaze, grinning with bright eyes before leaning down to suck your clit into his mouth, rapidly flicking it with his tongue as his fingers pump in and out of you rapidly, curled just right to hit your most sensitive spot that has you crying out in pleasure.
Haechan pinches your chin and shakes your head from side to side abruptly, wordlessly diverting your attention away from Mark and back to him. “What do we say when we make such a mess, hm?”
“S-Sorry,” you gasp, clutching the bedsheets in your fist as Mark’s fingers speed up. 
“Are we gonna keep making a mess?” Haechan pouts condescendingly before shaking your head from side to side. “No, we’re not? Are you sure, puppy?” He nods your head and tuts disapprovingly. “I don’t think I believe you.” He taps your cheek with two fingers and you open your mouth. “Tongue.” You comply, laying your tongue out flat, and he leans over you and lets a string of saliva drip from his lips onto your tongue. 
You whine in desperation at the warm sensation of the spit, but let it slide to the back of your throat without swallowing. Haechan brings his fingers back to your lips, bringing his face directly in front of yours, and pushes them to the back of your throat, smiling in satisfaction when you choke and cough, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.
“What’d I say?” Haechan teases matter-of-factly. “So fucking sloppy.” He retracts his fingers again and studies your face with fascination as you swallow thickly. 
“Sorry,” you say shamefully, your eyes threatening to shut from the sensations Mark is causing between your legs, and Haechan lets out a small chuckle, leaning even closer to you.
“You’re lucky I like it messy.” He kisses you again, deep and hot and wet and filthy with sinful moans into your mouth that you inadvertently echo as Mark brings you closer and closer to a climax.
“Please, oh, fuck—I’m gonna cum—” you moan against Haechan’s lips, practically trembling with need, and Mark only offers a grunt in response, making lewd wet noises as he laps at your core with an almost feral determination you’ve never seen from him before. 
“Cum, puppy. Cum all over Mark’s fingers.” Haechan murmurs, punctuating his words with increasingly needier kisses, and you do cum—hard, as a matter of fact. In an attempt to keep your volume down, you bite down on your bottom lip so hard that you’re surprised it doesn’t break the skin. Haechan tugs your lip free just in time for you to cry out loudly when Mark doesn’t stop, fingers still fucking into you and mouth still on your clit. 
You push at Mark’s shoulders in a panic, but he barely budges, Haechan helping him out by catching your hands and holding them in place on the bed. Mark removes his lips from your core with a wet smacking sound and presses down on your lower abdomen with his free hand, heightening your pleasure practically tenfold, and you’re downright ashamed of the volume of the cry you let out.
“Stop,” you pant, squirming frantically under their firm hold on you, “that feels—oh, my God, I’m gonna—”
“Are you gonna cum again?” Haechan coos patronizingly, and you shake your head vehemently.
“Feels like I’m gonna piss myself or pass the fuck out—” You muster all your strength and wrestle one of your hands free from Haechan’s grip to grab the wrist of Mark’s hand that’s pressing on your lower stomach. “Oh, shit, please—”
“Keep going, Mark,” Haechan urges, watching you in awe. “Maybe she’ll squirt.” The gleam in his eyes both terrifies and excites you as a second, stronger climax builds inside of you. 
“I’m sorry!” You sob, your voice cracking. “I’m sorry for messing with you for all of last month!”
“I bet you are sorry.” Mark mutters through clenched teeth, darkened eyes rapidly shifting from your core to your face. “Too bad we’re not done with you.”
As if on cue, your second orgasm hits you and it takes everything in you not to burst into tears from the overwhelming pleasure. Your body exerts practically all of its energy by trying to curl in on itself protectively, your body still subconsciously fucking back onto Mark’s fingers in search of every last bit of pleasure you can draw from him.
Finally having mercy, Mark pulls his fingers from you and shakes his other hand free of your grip, standing up straight and watching along with Haechan as you attempt to recover.
“You didn’t piss yourself or pass out.” Haechan points out, brows furrowed to match his petulant frown.
“You sound disappointed,” you half-exhale, half-laugh, trying and failing to prop yourself up on your weak feeling arms. “I also didn’t squirt like you wanted.”
“The night’s still young,” Haechan responds, and you blanch, trying to sit up again in alarm.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious, actually.” Mark pipes up, and you look between them with a mix of fear and anticipation swirling in your stomach. “You blue-balled us, what…seven times? More?”
“All together, it was eight times between the both of us.” Haechan points out, and you let out a strangled shriek, shaking your head as hard as you can.
“For the love of God, if you try to make me cum eight times today, I think my clit will actually break off or something.”
“Relax.” Haechan lies down next to you, trailing the backs of his fingers down your body between your breasts and down your stomach. “We’ll make you pay it off, like a debt. You can pay in installments.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you as his fingers draw closer to your throbbing core, and you smack his hand away, dramatically flopping over onto your stomach in a last-ditch attempt to protect yourself.
“You’re both insane,” you complain, words muffled by your faceful of pillow. “I can’t cum again.” 
“You can,” Mark says, sounding much closer than before, and two hands grip your hips, lifting you up onto your knees. “And you will.”
“Oh, dear Neptune,” you whine, bracing yourself on your elbows. 
Haechan snickers. “Whining and complaining, but you still got into position like a good little puppy.”
“Shut up,” you grumble, and you feel Mark positioning himself behind you on the bed, one hand pressing down on the small of your back to deepen your arch, and both males groan appreciatively.
“You look so good like this,” Mark grunts, pressing the head of his length to your entrance and rubbing it up and down your embarrassingly wet folds, collecting arousal to use as lubrication. 
Without so much as a warning, Mark grips your hip with one hand and guides himself into you, smoothly bottoming out. You both react strongly, your head falling onto your linked hands as a whine filled with need leaves your lips while Mark swears loudly, his fingers digging into your hip uncomfortably hard.
“Mark, you’re so big, holy shit,” you stammer, swallowing thickly as he pulls out slowly, almost entirely, before snapping his hips forward and resheathing himself inside of you. You cry out weakly, your walls flexing around his length, and Mark hisses with pleasure, repeating the motion as he gradually builds up an almost brutal pace.
“You’re so wet, fuck,” Mark groans, his words tapering off into an uncharacteristically smug chuckle. “This feels good, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, the sounds of skin slapping against skin almost drowning you out. “So good, Mark—”
Haechan, previously content with just watching for a moment, loses his patience, lifting your head up and urging you up onto your hands. He maneuvers himself under you, pulling his cock out of his sweats and stroking himself slowly as he watches you get fucked, your eyes glazing over with pleasure.
“Open,” Haechan says for the second time, guiding his length into your mouth and leaning back with a relieved sigh. “Suck.”
To be honest, you can barely focus on sucking Haechan off with Mark fucking into you with all the desperation of a man who’ll never fuck again. Mark’s always been passionate, but you’ve always experienced that aspect of him in a tamer sense of the word; this man you’re getting to know now is passionate—rough and sensual and animalistic, the way he’s taking you with dominant, forceful strokes.
Haechan’s derisive chuckle snaps you out of your reverie, your eyes refocusing on him, and he’s looking down at you with an unimpressed expression, an eyebrow arched.
“You’re drooling all over my lap, you know.” He almost sounds bored, and your face warms with embarrassment.
“S—” you start to mumble around his length, but he cuts you off.
“Sorry? Don’t be sorry. Fix it.” He gestures at his lap, and you blink up at him in confusion. He sighs and chuckles, the sound surprisingly fond given the circumstances. “You’re so cute, baby. Lick it up.” He murmurs, tone surprisingly gentle as he gives such a degrading order.
“Wh—”
“You heard me.” His gaze is intimidating, to say the least, and he looks down at his lap and length pointedly. “Start here.” He presses your mouth against the flesh of his upper thigh, the tip of your nose coming back cool and wet with your saliva. You avert your gaze shamefully and start to lap at the surprising amount of drool you managed to produce in such a short amount of time, but Haechan tuts disapprovingly, catching your attention once more. “Look at me when you do it.”
Your face burns hotter than you even thought it was capable of but you continue, maintaining eye contact and licking up your saliva from both of his thighs. He strokes himself almost lazily as you do, eyes heavy-lidded with desire and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on you.
Mark and Haechan seem to be silently fighting for your attention, because Mark’s thrusts escalate to an almost bruising pace while you’re tending to Haechan and he reaches around you to rub your clit, persisting even when you frantically try to swat his hand away.
“Be good, baby,” Mark murmurs distractedly as his hips continue to snap into yours. “Can you take it? For me?” As sweet as he sounds, it’s obvious to everyone in the room that you don’t have much of a choice. 
You’re at the mercy of both of them, and not only do they know, but they know you know, and they know you know they know.
“Okay,” you whimper quietly, and they both laugh.
“She’s learning,” Haechan coos, stroking your hair with his free hand. He taps the head of his length against your mouth, smiling when you take him into your mouth and start to bob your head, your tongue gliding against the underside of his shaft and helping you move up and down smoothly. “Just like that, baby.” Haechan groans, his head falling back as he pushes your head down until your nose is pressed against his lower abdomen and his tip prods at the back of your throat. 
You struggle to take it all in, but you finally manage, your throat reflexively swallowing around him, and he moans loudly, holding you in place as he thrusts up into your mouth with shallow pumps. You struggle to remember to breathe through your nose and tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he fucks your mouth, but Mark’s massaging of your clit helps distract you somewhat from the discomfort.
“You’re so tight,” Mark pants, “and wet, shit—”
The whine you let out is muffled by your mouthful of Haechan, who curses under his breath and thrusts up into your throat once more, making you gag around him and tap his thigh repeatedly.
“Too much?” Mark asks, sounding more amused than worried, and you shake your head.
“No, it’s not too much.” Haechan muses, finally pulling you off of his length and watching you cough and gasp for air. “Puppy loves taking cock—don’t you?”
“Yes,” you moan when you catch your breath, your voice throaty from sucking him off, and he smiles in satisfaction.
“She’s so good at it, too,” Mark grunts appreciatively, sliding his hand up your body to cup your breast. “Like she’s made for it.” 
“I’m close,” you whine as a warning, finding it oddly arousing that they’re essentially talking about you like you’re not there. 
“Good—I’m gonna cum so deep inside this pretty pussy,” he pants, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you’re toppling over it, a broken cry falling from your lips as your eyes shut tightly, and you can feel his length throbbing within your walls as he pumps his cum into you. Mark shudders out a moan and kneads your asscheeks before pulling out of you and coming to lie on his back beside you, spent. 
Haechan takes Mark’s place, kissing up your thighs, over the curve of your asscheeks, and up your back until his lips are at the spot just behind your ear.
“You get to make one choice tonight, baby.” Haechan murmurs in your ear, running his hands down your sides to grab your hips. “You want me to eat you out like this? Or do you want to sit on my face?”
“Like this,” you mumble, barely audible and slurring. Haechan and Mark chuckle.
“What was that?” Haechan asks again, clearly taunting you.
“Haechan, please?” you sniffle, and he hums fondly, massaging circles into your hips with his thumbs. “Eat me out like this?”
“Okay, baby,” Haechan coos, moving back from your ear until you can feel his breath against your thighs and fanning over your core. “Such a pretty, pretty pussy. Even with Mark’s cum leaking out of it,” he murmurs, a gush of your and Mark’s cum leaking out of you as if on cue. 
Mark positions you on your hands once more, your body already starting to feel weary, and places himself under you where Haechan was a moment ago, slowly stroking himself. His brows furrowed, his gaze is dark as he watches your bottom lip tuck itself between your teeth in anticipation for Haechan to do something.
Haechan practically buries his face between your thighs, lapping at the arousal leaking from you. “Messy puppy’s even messy down here,” he grunts, wet noises sounding out from behind you as he licks and sucks at your glistening folds. 
The feeling of his tongue moving between your legs both tickles and thrills you, the wet muscle gliding over your skin with ease, and Haechan pulls back slightly, making you whine and push your hips back towards him.
“You’re so greedy,” Haechan teases, landing a smack to your ass cheek. “Be patient.”
“Don’t wanna,” you whine, looking up at Mark in an attempt to garner sympathy. “Please?”
Mark’s already furrowed brows furrow even more, something you didn’t think was possible, and he tilts your head up by the chin to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s domineering, forceful, even, with his tongue stroking against yours needily as you whine into his mouth.
As Mark kisses you senseless, you finally get to see why Haechan stopped in the first place. A warm, wet sensation travels down from your asshole and drips down to your clit, the bead of saliva threatening to drop onto the bed. Haechan groans at the sight while you groan at the sensation, Haechan’s mouth quick to follow the path but in reverse, licking up from your clit and through your folds to prod the tip of his tongue at your entrance.
You whimper and jolt forward, almost biting down on Mark’s lip, and Haechan chuckles, spreading your lips apart with two fingers and teasing his tongue around your entrance slowly. 
“Please,” you pant, breaking the kiss momentarily to beg for relief. “Please?”
“What, puppy? You like that?” he mumbles, pausing his ministrations to tease you. When you nod, he chuckles, cooing, “I know you like it; you like when I tease your little hole like that? Yeah?” You can only cry out in response, and he flicks his tongue over your entrance before speaking again. “That feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Haechan—” you plead in a desperate exhale, and he groans at the sound of your name leaving his lips, lurching forward and pushing his tongue past your entrance and into your core, not stopping even when you gasp and jolt away from him.
He yanks you back into place and smacks your ass once for good measure, warning you, “Don’t move until I say so,” before pushing his tongue back into you. He grabs your hip with his free hand, pulling you closer to his mouth, and Mark moves with you, his head dipping to suck at the base of your neck while you mewl in delight.
It takes approximately three guided rocking movements of your hips for you to realize that Haechan’s making you fuck yourself on his tongue, the wet muscle satisfying but a fraction of your need to be filled.
“More?” you beg, and Haechan drags his tongue up from your entrance to your asshole, swirling his tongue around the puckered rim as you cry out and reach back to swat at his head. “I didn’t mean—”
“Just wait,” he mumbles distractedly, flicking over it as you gasp and tremble. “See, puppy? I know what I’m doing.” Your hand slowly moves back to propping you up and both Mark and Haechan laugh, the sounds darker than usual and far more mischievous. 
“You like that, hm? Like when Haechan eats you out from the back?” Mark grunts against your neck, and you look down to see he’s fully hard again, his fist now slowly pumping his length. “So dirty,” Mark teases. “You’re just a dirty little thing,” Mark murmurs, “aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you agree needily, willing to say almost anything if it means you get to climax. “Haechan, I need—”
“I know what you need.” Haechan silences you by letting another fat drop of saliva drip onto your asshole, his lips wrapping around your clit as he pushes two fingers into your entrance and traces another finger around your asshole. “You need all your holes filled, don’t you, puppy?”
“Mhm,” you can only whine as he starts to fuck his fingers into you, the finger at your asshole pushing in with the spit as a makeshift lubricant. It’s less than ideal, the stretch of his finger feeling foreign as he pushes it in up to the first knuckle, but when he starts to move it in and out of you at the same pace his fingers fuck your core, you can only gasp in surprise, clutching onto Mark for something to brace yourself. “Holy shit—”
“Yeah, that’s good, isn’t it?” Mark chuckles, tilting your head towards him. “Look at me; I want to see that pretty face when you cum.”
“God, fuck—okay,” you agree breathlessly, nodding as you struggle to keep your eyes on his. Haechan speeds up in his finger-fucking of both your holes, releasing your clit from his lips to go up and spit on your rim again to prepare you as best he can to add another finger. “Oh, shit!”
“You can take it,” Haechan mutters determinedly, both sets of digits pumping in and out of you quickly. “Can’t you, baby?”
“Mhm,” you moan, nodding, and Haechan presses a kiss to your ass cheek, a silent encouragement to hang in there. “Gonna—oh, God—gonna cum—”
“Good, baby,” Haechan urges, voice surprisingly sweet as he coaxes you to your climax. “Cum for me, baby, cum all over me.” He’s practically spewing nonsense at this point, too caught up in his lust to make any sense, lips refusing to part with your clit as he urges you closer and closer to your peak. “Want to feel you cum all over my fingers, baby, all over my face—gonna lick it all up when you’re done—”
You cry out loudly, now grateful to be home alone, as your climax hits, your mind and body toppling over the edge gracelessly as you succumb to the bliss coursing through you. You whimper Haechan’s name, then Mark’s, then Haechan’s again, then you honestly don’t know what starts coming out next; you can only make out the word “fuck” leaving your lips again and again—and again.
“So fucking pretty when you cum,” Mark groans, pressing kisses to your slack-jawed mouth. “Prettiest fucking girl.”
“Gonna look even better with both of her holes stuffed full of cock.” Haechan grunts, and your eyes widen.
“Both—”
“Remember everything you put us through,” Haechan reminds you with a devilish grin. “You owe it to us at this point.” As if to drive his point home further, he presses his spit-slicked thumb to your rim, chuckling when you jolt away reflexively and move to sit on your heels. He presses you back down forcefully, your ass back in the air and face squished against Mark’s lap as he pushes his thumb past the rim of your asshole, moving it in and out carefully.
Mark groans at the sensation of your face pressed to the underside of his length and shamelessly lets his shaft rub against your lips and forehead, a tremor of pleasure traveling through his body as you whimper at the sensations you’re feeling at both ends. 
Haechan licks around where his thumb disappears into you, chuckling when you gasp with pleasure. 
“Haechan, hurry up—I want to fuck her again.” Mark grunts, and Haechan scoffs, moving his mouth away from you.
“You’re so impatient.” Haechan grouches as he pulls his thumb out carefully, guiding you up so you’re sitting on your heels. “I get her ass.”
“Wh—no, you don’t!”
“Mm, yes, I do.”
“Dude, seriously—”
“Can someone please just fuck me?” you plead quietly, and they look at each other, exchanging words non-verbally with their eyes. “Please?” 
“Don’t worry, puppy,” Haechan coos, coming closer and kissing your neck sweetly. “We’re gonna fill your needy little holes right now.”
“C’mere, pretty.” Mark urges, guiding you into straddling his legs and hovering just over his length as he presses the head of it to your entrance. He coats his length in your arousal, Haechan’s saliva, and whatever’s left of his own cum before urging your hips down so he slowly fills you up. When you let out a whine, he chuckles, pulling you down to kiss him, murmuring, “I know, baby. I know.”
“My turn,” Haechan chuckles mischievously, pressing his tip to your rim, both males holding you in place when you instinctively flinch away. “Don’t run from it, baby.”
“Mm—!” you cry out, voice muffled as Mark kisses you, as Haechan pushes the head of his cock into your ass, the feeling both incredibly foreign and unbelievably satisfying. “So much,” you gasp out, pulling away from Mark to look behind you as Haechan kneads your ass cheeks in what you assume is a comforting gesture.
“You can take it,” Mark encourages you with a husky voice, kissing down your neck to distract you from the discomfort.
“I can’t,” you moan, shaking your head.
“You can,” Haechan urges, “and you will.”
“God, fuck—” You hiss, scratching your nails uselessly against your bedspread.
“Don’t worry, baby—you’re gonna take this cock deep inside you, and you’re gonna fucking love it.” Haechan grunts through gritted teeth as he pushes himself further inside of you, his length reaching places inside of you no one’s ever been before. The cry you let out is somehow deeply overwhelmed yet so full of need for more that it would startle you if you were currently of sound mind and body. “Just like that, puppy.” he chuckles, his words ending in a groan as he bottoms out in you, hips pressed against your ass.
“Doing so well, baby.” Mark praises you in a whisper. “So fucking good.”
“You gotta relax, puppy.” Haechan leans over to speak against your ear. “Otherwise, it’s never gonna feel better.”
“You can move,” you say breathlessly, closing your eyes tightly in anticipation as you try to relax your muscles.
Mark lifts you up slightly and carefully pulls himself out to the tip before thrusting back into you with a groan. Haechan grips your hips tightly and starts to pull out, the feeling making you keen desperately for more. When he bottoms out again, you reach back to grab his hand tightly. 
“Faster,” you manage to get out, and Haechan snickers. 
“That’s more like it.” He pulls back out and thrusts into you as Mark starts building a quick rhythm that has you stuttering out whimpers. The sounds only increase in volume when Haechan does the same, the pleasurable blend of sensations of both your holes getting fucked filling your mind with a thick fog of bliss.
“So fucking big,” you whine, both of them chuckling.
“Who, baby?” Mark asks.
“Both of you—”
“Good answer,” Haechan praises before reaching around and rubbing at your clit, persisting even when you yelp in protest and try to smack his hand away. “Relax,” he reminds you, sounding smug as he tweaks the hypersensitive bud between his fingers.
“God, she’s so fucking wet,” Mark moans, his every syllable punctuated with a powerful thrust into you. “Feels like I’m gonna slip right out.” He reaches between your bodies and tugs at your nipples, kneading your breasts and running his thumbs over the sensitive buds.
“Please—oh, my God—” you beg, not even sure what it is you want.
“Good, yeah?” Mark teases, and you nod vigorously.
“So fucking good,” you pant, “feels so full.”
When he pulls you back down for a kiss, his hand returns to kneading your breasts as he teases your tongue with his. Haechan’s thrusts are rough and fast and deep, the pleasure forcing tears out of your eyes. His slick fingers press down harder on your clit and you nearly collapse, your eyes rolling back.
“Fuck, do that again, Haechan,” Mark groans against your lips. “She got so fucking tight—”
“This?” Haechan asks, fucking into you harder as he presses down on your clit again.
“Yeah—God, you’re so fucking tight—” Mark kisses away your tears even as fresh ones fall before sucking at a spot on your neck that makes you reflexively tilt your head to allow him more access.
“You like that, baby?” Haechan taunts you, audibly grinning as he speeds up the circles on your clit, and you cry out weakly, a teary whimper leaving you as more tears fall. “I know you do,” he grunts breathlessly, driving his hips into you harder. 
“God, I’m gonna—” You can barely get the words out as your climax approaches, your hips fucking back onto Haechan’s length.
“Cum, baby.” Mark tugs particularly hard on your nipple, eliciting another cry from you as you hit your peak, your body attempting to curl in on itself as the pleasure courses through you. “That’s it, fuck, you’re so good.” He sounds slightly whiny and you can’t even bring yourself to help him out yet, the aftershocks of your orgasm still traveling through your body, buzzing through your veins.
“Mark,” you say, slurring slightly as you bring your lips to his ear. “You can cum,” you urge gently, and he inhales sharply. 
“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you so good,” he moans, his thrusts growing more unpredictable before he thrusts upward, filling you completely, and spills his cum into you as his length throbs inside of you. His eyes close for a moment, Mark in a daze before he collects himself, opening his eyes, and pulls out of you gingerly. His gaze zeroes in on your core as his release and yours start to drip down your inner thighs, his face visibly spent while his eyes still hold that wild glint.
“Gonna fuck you so full of cum, puppy.” Haechan half-moans, half-growls as he pulls you up so your back is to his chest. Sucking at a sensitive spot on your neck, his hands grope your chest, kneading your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers. “Fill you so fucking good, it’ll be dripping out of you for ages.”
“God, Haechan, please cum—” you plead, fresh tears welling up in your eyes from how much pleasure you’re feeling. It’s almost more than you can take, one of Haechan’s hands returning to your clit even as you try your best to jerk away.
“You’re gonna come one more time for me, yeah?” he coaxes, and your eyes widen.
Underneath you, Mark chuckles at the panic on your face, watching you two lazily with a dopey smile on his lips.
“Haechan, I don’t wanna cum again,” you beg.
“Don’t want to, or you think you can’t?” Haechan presses, and you let out a small choked sob.
“I can’t!”
“You can—watch,” he answers simply, and you sniffle loudly. “Aw, come on; don’t be selfish, puppy,” he grunts, kissing up to your ear, his length pumping into you rapidly. “Give it to me. Cum.”
When you climax again, your body feels almost unbearably warm, your jaw dropping in overwhelming ecstasy, and your muscles go slack as you slump against Haechan’s back, distantly aware of Haechan’s thrusts slowing as he starts to cum inside of you. He keeps pumping into you at a slow pace, warmth flooding between your legs as more of your arousal drips down your legs.
“So fucking good, baby.” Haechan mutters through gritted teeth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your breast so hard that you whine. He pulls out of you carefully, your limbs immediately giving out as you practically melt onto the mattress beside Mark. Your breath comes in ragged inhales and exhales, Haechan gently flipping you onto your back and apologetically kissing the sore spots on your breast where his fingers dug into you. Satisfied with the attention, you tiredly push his head away and he lies down next to you, sighing deeply with relief.
“How do you feel?” Mark asks softly.
“Great,” Haechan answers, and Mark sucks his teeth.
“I wasn’t asking you.” 
“I feel…” you start, and they both crane their necks to look at you. “Like you’re both still insane.”
“Maybe we are,” Haechan laughs tiredly. “You did a good job; almost paid off your debt entirely.” 
“Please don’t bring up that stupid debt,” you complain, covering your ears.
“Also, turns out that puppy likes it in doggy style,” Haechan chuckles, “who would’ve thought?”
“Haechan?”
“Yeah, baby?” 
“Stop being a menace for one second. You’re making my head hurt.” 
“I can imagine more than your head hurts,” Mark says sympathetically, squeezing your hand. “Are you, like, physically okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumble sleepily. “I’m covered in spit and sweat and cum, though, so I really want to shower in a sec.”
“Here’s an idea—we go shower and Mark and I will go get some of Jeno’s weed for us to smoke. That’ll make you feel better.” Haechan suggests, and you pause to think.
“You know,” you muse, “that’s a good plan.”
“Why, thank you,” Haechan says with a proud smile. “I am known for my intelligence.”
“No, you’re not,” you and Mark snort in amusement.
“I’m a genius!” Haechan retorts defensively, and you scoff.
“Who said that beside the voices in your head?”
“Do you want Jeno’s weed or not?” Haechan challenges.
You’re quiet for a moment. “Fine, you’re a genius.”
Haechan smiles in satisfaction. “That's what I thought.”
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(“I can’t believe they really made it the whole month,” Jaemin mutters in surprise.
“I can’t believe I really have to give up all my weed,” Jeno laments. “All 5 pounds of it—”
“Five fucking pounds?! Jesus Christ, are you a dealer or something?” Lia stares in horror at Jeno, who just waves her off.
“We all do what we gotta do to get by.” Jeno answers, shrugging. “I smoke weed, Jaemin eats snacks—Lia schemes against her friends—”
“Hey! When I told Mark and Haechan she was home on December 1st and had her get the door, I did that for her own good. The three of them were dancing awkwardly around each other for a frustratingly long time.” Lia defends herself, and Jaemin raises an eyebrow.
“Right. Now look at them. Oh, wait. You can’t because they’re off fucking like rabbits. Again.” he drawls.
“I regret nothing.” Lia turns her nose up in a huff.
“Well, I regret hearing Haechan’s dumb joke about the new monthly challenge they’re doing.” Yeji rolls her eyes, gathering the attention of everyone else. “He didn’t tell you guys?” 
“No,” they chorus.
Yeji sighs. “It’s Dick Her Down December, apparently.”
“That poor girl.” Jaemin winces. “It’s only the 5th.”
Jeno shrugs. “Somehow, I think she’ll be alright.”)
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the end!! i hope you enjoyed :) please consider leaving positive feedback & thank you for reading!!
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obiwanwhat · 7 months
Text
So I firmly believe that everything Anakin did and said wasn't about him and what he needed to say, it was about what Ahsoka needed to hear and see.
There is so much to unpack within EVERYTHING of that episode but here's my attempt at trying to deconstruct the latter half of the Anakin & Ahsoka scenes:
"Ahsoka, within you will be everything I am"
For 15 years, Ahsoka thought that Anakin had died a Jedi. From the time she was 17 to the time she was 32 - it was a belief she held for her entire adult life! Her training as a Jedi was foundational to who she was (even if she wasn't a Jedi), and being trained by Anakin was the core of her Jedi training. For over a decade, she looked at that inheritance with nothing but pride over who had trained her and where she'd come from. And then she finds out what Anakin became. Obviously it's devastating to see someone who you consider family in the state, and to have them try to kill you! But the thing I'd never considered was how much it would make Ahsoka doubt herself. If Anakin trained Ahsoka - and you can bet she's now going over every memory of Anakin she ever has searching for double meanings, searching for signs of what he would become - what does that make her? What does that say about her training, and about all the lessons that shaped her?
"But my part of that legacy is one of death and war"
On top of that...Ahsoka has been a soldier and then a spy since she was fourteen. She was a literal child soldier! She was trained in nothing but killing and war, and then later had to train herself in killing and spying. Without a war to fight, who is she? Now that peace has (apparently) returned to the galaxy with the end of the Empire, what place does she have? What purpose does she serve? What knowledge of use does she have to pass onto Sabine?
"But you're more than that, because I'm more than that"
This isn't Anakin trying to defend himself, he's pointing out that to Ahsoka he means more than the death he caused, both as Jedi soldier and as Darth Vader. When he trained her, he didn't just teach her how to kill - he taught her how to respect and care about the men under her command, he taught her how to be brave in the face of insurmountable odds, he taught her how to be kind to the innocent. Clone Wars Anakin was just as much a Jedi as he was a solider, and so both trainings are what were passed down to Ahsoka. And his becoming Vader doesn't undo any of that. I don't think Ahsoka had ever figured out how to feel about Anakin's legacy, because how can she respect the man who became a genocidal monster? How can she respect and love and honor the man who tried to kill her? She should - well, not hate him, a Jedi (or even a not-Jedi) doesn't hate - but she should disavow him. But she can't, because he's still the man who stood up for her when the Jedi Council turned their backs on her, who drilled her in the lightsaber techniques that saved her life on Mandalore, who saved her life too many times to count and was her family. And she doesn't know how to reconcile those feelings with what Anakin became, and therefore she doesn't know how to reconcile the parts of herself that come from being trained by Anakin.
"You are more, Anakin. But more powerful and dangerous than anyone realized"
She's sidestepping the point by falling back on her default defense: Anakin fell to the Dark Side, and therefore everything that came out of his teachings - including her - is tainted. She still can't admit to herself that there was more to Anakin than his fall, and that all those parts of Anakin still mean something to her.
"Is that was this is about?" / "If I am everything you are-" / "then you've learned nothing"
She's still missing the point Anakin's trying to show her - that she carries his trainings and influence within her, but she is not Anakin. She is not tainted by Anakin's fall, and her fate will not be the same as his, because she's her own person who makes her own choices, and the good in Anakin's teachings - the good in her that came from them - doesn't just go away because Anakin fell. She's still so scared of Anakin's darkness - and what it says about her own inner darkness - that she can't see her own light.
"Back to the beginning. I gave you a choice - live, or die?"
For the last 10 or so years (however long since she returned from Malchor), Ahsoka's been in a holding pattern. All she knows is war, and she doesn't know what there is to life outside of fighting to live another day. She's terrified of who she is and of facing the ghost of Vader over her past. She's not living anymore, she's just surviving, moving from day to day. Anakin's telling her that's not enough anymore. Not being able to face her past and embrace her training literally killed her - Baylan was able to unbalance her enough to defeat her in a fight by stoking her inner discord. If she wants to return, she has to want to live, really live - she needs to find her direction in life beyond being a solider, and to do that she has to embrace her full legacy and training. If she can't do that, then she'll stay dead, stuck in the world between worlds.
"No-" / "Incorrect" / "You lack conviction" / "Time to die"
She still doesn't know how to see past Vader, so Anakin give her the opportunity to work through it in a way she can understand - by literally fighting her figurative demon.
"I choose to live"
By fighting Vader, by having the chance to kill him and embrace the Dark Side and realizing she didn't take it, realizing that she never even wanted to, Ahsoka finally realizes what Anakin's been trying to show her - she's not Vader, she never will be, because that's not who she is. Anakin's teachings are a part of her that she cannot escape, but there is more to Anakin's teachings than Vader, and there is more to her than what she has been taught. To find out what she is meant to be and move forward she must embrace where she came from. Only then can she return to the world of the living and move forward with her journey.
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