#Angels works corporate I think

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil, hope you have a great day/evening so far!

I'm not sure if I understand how human corporations work in Good Omens. Do they incorporate a willing human body, like Aziraphale does in the book/season 1 with Madame Tracy? But that wouldn't explain why angels have their "human form" in Heaven/Heaven's offices? Why don't we see their angel form when they are in Heaven or is that because we are watching through our human eyes?

Hope my question was understandable😇 and thank you (and of course Terry) for creating this amazing story! Forever grateful!

I think you can assume that the angels in Heaven/offices don't look anything like the actors playing them or even anything like physical human beings, and that what you are watching is a dramatic convention to allow us to tell the story.

[fratboykate]

I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.

people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.

5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:

10% to our agent

10% to our manager

5% to our entertainment attorney

5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)

most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.

you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.

lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.

this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.

they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)

support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.

[addledmongoose]

Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction

This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.

A few notes:

These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.

Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working

It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.

You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.

The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.

These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once

Click the Keep Reading to see the list

If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.

This first section, all the stories are canon-compliant or canon-adjacent. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.

a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)

This one is canon-adjacent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.

***

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)

It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.

***

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)

This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.

***

it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)

Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.

***

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)

And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.

***

In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)

I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.

***

How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)

Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.

***

Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)

This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.

This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.

Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.

***

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)

Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.

Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.

***

We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)

If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.

Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to see Aziraphale.

***

To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)

Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.

***

Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)

The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.

This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.

For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.

The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.

***

Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)

In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.

I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.

***

The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.

Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)

One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"

Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.

***

Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)

The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).

Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.

***

Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)

I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.

This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.

Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.

***

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)

This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.

Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...

Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.

Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.

***

Slow Show (95K; Rated E)

The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.

This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.

***

South Downs (76K; Rated E)

Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.

***

This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.

The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)

By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.

Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.

***

And bonus: mine!

The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)

The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.

Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.

Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.

Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?

[domjaehyun]

SURVIVING NO NUT NOVEMBER (L.MK, L.DH)

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

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

“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. 

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.

“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.

“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!”

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!”

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.”

(“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.”)

the end!! i hope you enjoyed :) please consider leaving positive feedback & thank you for reading!!

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hi hello! Idk if your request is currently open or not, but I'd like to request a fic where the Reader is a member of the Smiling Critters, they're still alive due to Catnap's fondness of them. They're on his side but hate it, only doing it in exchange that Dogday wouldn't get hurt.

With Catnap's permission, they would visit Dogday and give him whatever food they could find ( let's say Catnap still has some fondness for Dogday inside of him ) but with limitations.

You can change the idea into how you prefer! Thank you in advance :D

Ps. Mind adding a scene where Dogday calls the Reader " Angel " and reminisces about Catnap's fondness for both of them? I hope it makes sense, I just melt seeing Dogday calling us Angel :'D

Here We Stay

Note || KSJSJSJD I loved writing this, everything makes sense :D My apologies I took so long to write this! Kinda short too but UUHHHHH-

WC || 1,176

Sypnosis || being a member of the Smiling Critters meant you would’ve died one way or another, but you didn’t. Now all you can do is hope for the best.

One of the worst possible things could be corporate greed, even just having good intentions yet the worst execution is a plausible answer. Just how could you be forced into this situation? Trying to make things worth Catnap’s while is harsh, the only reason you knew you were alive right now was merely because he was particularly fond of you and DogDay alike. He wasn’t the same after the fact the Prototype’s reign began, you weren’t aware of much yourself, so all of this was just plain scary to you.

All your friends just disappeared and died, some of which you didn’t know was happening. You only got all that information because of DogDay.

You hated the circumstance he was put in, it seemed so painful for one’s legs to be severed and just hung up there the way he is now.

Repeatedly however, DogDay has assured you he didn’t mind being like this so long as you were in good health. He couldn’t bear knowing he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing for one of the only friends he has left. So many of his friends were gone already, DogDay would elect to die for you if it meant you would live.

Truth be told, you had only exchanged the peace you had before so that DogDay would not get hurt anymore then he already has. Catnap had full will and the power to completely end your life otherwise, you just were scared. 

Sometimes when you could, you would take a look at the broken clock that had somehow still worked like normal–and think about what time it would be in the day–Is it nighttime? How about daytime. Oh how you wished you weren’t subject to things the way they are now, all because of the wretched rules of humans and even the abject rulings of the Prototype himself.

Why would Catnap even view that silly toy as a god anyway? Perhaps that was for him to know, and for you to find out. Once, your life isn’t in any danger any longer. Just maybe it will be possibly any hour now, one can only hope. 

Trying to scrounge the Factory for any possible food was getting harder and harder every hour, one could argue it may be the stupid little mice stealing those last precious crumbs away. You would argue it would be the little Wuggies, those small toys were objectively brisk–and limpid too (colors so closely related within the walls of the factory, you forget sometimes they are even there).

You try hard to not forget where you are, in order to get back to DogDay with food for him. That was the only reason you were even anywhere else and away from your sunny friend, you would still be close to him any chance you get on account of Catnap’s permission. 

You wished otherwise.

“Ugh!” Groaning, you step over the possible weak spots that would have you falling through the floor. “There has to be food around here somewhere..” You mention, notioning to the fact you had now stepped into an office. There would be bound to be food here!

With an ounce of hope, you began scrounging the office for any possible heaps of food that you find. Ruffling through any drawers and papers, this office seemed to be a mess. You paid no mind to the messes anyway, there are bound to be messes since the last ten years in Playtime Co. 

“Success! Haha!” You triumphantly hold a bundle of donuts in your hand, “Take that Hour of Joy!” 

Winding down from your self inflated permeated success, you began making your way back to DogDay. You’d have to speak to Catnap to get to him first unfortunately, you always hated this part. Nonetheless, it was necessary.

You picked up the phone, already dialing Catnap to inform him of current conditions. You carefully had curated your words, you always did this when you spoke to him which ever way.

His deep voice rumbled soundly in your ears, “Food, for him?” 

“Yes.” You silently groan, kicking a benign rock stubble as you stand around while awaiting his confirmation. Why the hell was he so scary to you? Though, Catnap’s voice was oddly reassuring when he spoke without malcontent. For a moment, there was a long pause. 

You swore you could hear someone screaming and pleading to the giant purple cat; you felt bad for the unlucky victim that had crossed paths with Catnap.

“...” Then the phone hung up, you sighed a breath of relief that you could visit DogDay. Many things you would do for him just aside visiting, was having to loop in Catnap on whatever the contents of the material you would bring in hand with you. You knew the cat well enough his pause of silence meant yes. 

Well, you can go now at least. You don’t even want to recount the last time you had brought something to DogDay without telling Catnap. 

You stepped over the rubble that had led up to the heretic altar, you recognize he is one of the many dubbed a heretic, you truly wished he wasn’t in so much pain this way. Though immediately another thought crossed your mind.

This hallway needed some serious cleaning up to do.

A strained voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You didn’t have to bring anything my friend.” DogDay was being positive about you as per usual, you sighed as you stepped up to him then sat down as your legs were weary and tired. 

“DogDay we are friends, I’d do anything for you.” You motion, taking out a donut so you could feed it to him. Though in a rare few circumstances you were allowed to free DogDay’s hands so he could eat himself. Unfortunately it was not one of those circumstances. He took a willing bite, chewing it up as he savored it. 

For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to articulate anything, “Do you, remember how he was before… Angel?” DogDay was still mournfully thinking about Catnap’s old self, which he had every right to do. Knowing someone for as long as you would, then that someone changing so drastically–especially not in a good way–can be startling. 

You fed him another bite of the donut you held in your hand, “How could I forget? He was quite silent, sure enough. But he was always considering each and every one of us.” You nod with a tilted head. Oh, if you had the chance to turn back the clock and change things, you would’ve done it all in a heartbeat. 

Sincerely, you were scared. Scared for Catnap, scared for DogDay. All your possibly living friends you know are still alive. 

You grin slightly, wanting to alleviate the conversation and change the subject, “You might need a cleaning.” DogDay couldn’t help but bark–reminiscent of laughter–at your words. He shifted himself noticeably, most likely to bear the weight from one end to another. And remove the discomfort for a little bit before it would dare come back. 

“You may be right, my angel.”

"One can only hope."

[coredrill]

this is something i’ve talked about quite a bit with a friend, but i figured i’d share it here just because i think it’s an interesting and informative mindset to look at current media with… basically, i had the chance to talk to [writer who works for major media corporation, not involved with any of the examples i mention] a bit ago and they said that when they tried to include a trans character in their story, the direction they were given from higher-ups was that “they can BE trans, but they can’t SAY they’re trans.” and i think hearing this really made a lot of things click into place for me regarding, like, queer characters as a whole?

like. i think it’s the reason that someone like captain angel in strange new worlds can use they/them pronouns and talk to spock about not fitting into boxes but can’t SAY that they are nonbinary/trans. it’s the reason those gundam girls can propose and get matching rings, but as soon as a voice actor says they’re gay, bandai scrambles to “correct” it. kirara from jjk can have a middle school class photo that looks quite masc and in the present look very punk & femme, but not say the word trans. gwen stacy also cannot say the word trans while the screen flashes pink and white and blue as she begs her dad to just see her for who she is as his daughter. galo can give lio the kiss of life and then explode into a heart-shaped flame in a movie littered with pink triangles but not be called gay.

and all of this is obviously frustrating for a number of reasons, and it can be hard to parse intent when movies and shows CAN’T be as open as their writers would like them to be, but i think it’s worthwhile to keep in mind as a viewer? i don’t pretend to know what goes on behind the scenes of course, but i’d bet that’s why we���re getting to such a point where there are stories that are laughably blatant in how queer they are but which staunchly don’t claim to be - because if they DID, they’d lose the chance to tell that story before they could even try 😭

[charlotteharlatan]

Do you ever think about what would have happened if Mary Hodges (formerly Mary Loquacious) hadn’t interrupted Crowley and Aziraphale’s “intimate moment”?

Because I do. I think about it a lot.

First off, the way that this shot is set up is perfect. Mary - Mary who had a key role in the whole “Antichrist shuffle” fiasco, and who is a walking reminder of the approaching apocalypse that will separate Aziraphale and Crowley - is literally coming between them. The show is full of these beautifully simple, yet easy-to-miss moments that only last a few frames.

Now, on its surface, this part of the scene mostly plays as humorous because Crowley and Aziraphale are sexless-by-default, non-human entities who just happen to come across to most humans as a very aesthetic queer couple. So naturally, Mary makes the same assumption as every other human that so much as glances in their direction, and isn’t that a laugh?

Except that…she’s not actually wrong about it being an intimate moment. Not just in the physical sense, although I think this is the closest we see them physically get in the whole first season (not counting being literally inside each other’s corporations, I suppose).

But it’s intimate in the emotional sense too, because Crowley is worried and stressed about having lost the Antichrist, and now on top of everything else he’s got Aziraphale calling him “nice” and poking at some very old wounds (if he’s so “nice” then why did he Fall?). And Crowley is also probably *frightened* - they’re inside a former Satanic convent that kept regular contact with not just Crowley himself, but also Hastur, and probably other demons too. For all Crowley knows, someone from his side could still be lurking about; they could overhear and get them both in big trouble.

And as if all that weren’t enough, I don’t think I’m imagining a healthy dose of frustration with Aziraphale in the mix either. Just a few minutes prior, the angel essentially tempted Crowley into miracling the paint stain out of his coat, and then broke their rules by saying “thank you” for it. Aziraphale has spent at least the last few centuries sending him some very mixed signals and we can see that Crowley is done with them dancing around each other. That game was more or less fine before, they had time, all the time in the world. But now, in just a few days, all the time in the world will be ENDING. And yet here’s Aziraphale, playing the same game as always, acting like nothing between them has changed, even though they both know better.

So yeah, it all comes to a head in that moment, and Crowley (sort of understandably) loses it a bit. He won’t actually hurt Aziraphale and they both know that, but he has to get across to the angel SOMEHOW that he’s experiencing some Big Feelings. And he doesn’t have a whole lot of options as to how to do that. He’s too worked up to communicate effectively. So he goes with the wall slam. This causes an emotionally charged situation which we’re primed to think will have an emotional payoff - the camera pulls in close, a dramatic transition, drawing us in to the tension of the moment right along with Crowley and Aziraphale.

And then there’s Aziraphale, who…doesn’t defend himself at all. Aziraphale, who is kind but far from defenseless, who used to guard the gate of Eden with a flaming sword, who was supposed to fight in a platoon of angels in the final battle. He’s no pushover, and yet he lets himself get literally pushed over. It doesn’t even seem to occur to him to stop Crowley, not even as he’s wrinkling his precious coat.

And maybe this is just my read of this scene, but Aziraphale’s reaction to Crowley coming into his personal space is interesting in and of itself. He doesn’t act as if this is the first instance of Crowley being that close to him - and it is CLOSE. Their lips are centimeters apart. Their noses are touching.

And one might well say that all of it happens so fast that Aziraphale is caught off guard and freezes up, but as so many have already pointed out about this scene, just after Mary interrupts he looks…blatantly longing, and then more than a bit put out.

And after Crowley lets him go, he casually fixes his clothes and goes straight back to bickering. Which may be partially a defense mechanism, because they don’t have time to talk about what just happened, there clearly won’t be any emotional resolution right now. But really, wouldn’t “you go too fast for me” Aziraphale be more rattled if that were truly the first time they had crossed that physical boundary and shared space like this? He looks affected, certainly, but quickly shakes it off.

And, to take it one step further: Aziraphale knows Crowley. He knows what words are likely to set him off. He has an established pattern of having Crowley do things for him, based on Aziraphale’s own prompting (see also: wordlessly asking Crowley to help Hamlet become a hit). Aziraphale does as much tempting to get Crowley to do “nice” things as Crowley does to get him to do “naughty” things. All of which is to say, Aziraphale may have actually been baiting Crowley here, but the bait is just a little too effective, and Aziraphale isn’t fully prepared for the intensity of the response he gets. But there’s a strong case to be made that by calling the demon “nice,” he’s looking to get a specific reaction out of Crowley. Again, not the healthiest form of communication, but it’s what they have in this context, because honesty would be too dangerous.

Which brings me back to my point: it IS an intimate moment, in more ways than Mary could have possibly realized, and what if she hadn’t walked in on them? How would Crowley have finished his sentence that got cut off, and how would Aziraphale have responded to it, to Crowley’s outburst of emotion, or to their proximity?

Maybe he would have gently and politely pushed Crowley away - but to me, something about his expression and body language says he wouldn’t have. Because Aziraphale is tired of dancing around this too, actually, and in the heat of the moment, he may just have closed the distance. Especially if they’ve had “intimate moments” before this one.

And between you and me, I think they did, and I think it was after Crowley saved Aziraphale and his books during the Blitz. It’s a solid explanation for the increased tension between them in the holy water scene.

Anyway. This meta has been sitting in my drafts since before the first trailer came out, S2 is only nine days away, and I’m clearly very normal about all of this.

[lwwife]

Hi, I read your first piece with Leah and really enjoyed it. I then saw you were asking for requests so figured I might as well give an idea I’ve had in my head. Basically its around Leah and a wealthy CEO/Buisnesswoman reader. Their relationship being loving but others seeing things in different ways. Where people/teammates end up assuming Y/n is a gold digger. Falsely accusing her of being such. I’d be curious to know what you think if this and see how it might play out if written.

Gold Digger

Fluff, angst, suggestive

Word count: 1489

-

Leah’s pov:

“Mate, please I really don’t want to go, I mean what do they even need me for? Im a footballer not a stock broker!” I whined to my manager Tyra.

“Leah trust me, you’ll love it, the CEO of the company is a huge advocate for women and girls in sports, it’s the centre of tonight’s event, she does a lot more work than just holdings, she’s trying to bring women’s sport into each company the corporation owns to increase growth” I continue to stare at her, still questioning why I have to be there. Tyra sighs, “and, leah, having successful women attending events to show those companies just what women are capable of can help a lot.” She pauses waiting for my response. “She asked specifically for you Leah” I raised my eyebrows, “she did?”, “of course she did you nut, you’re Leah Williamson, you’ve just won the biggest tournament in Europe, now get a grip and go get dressed.” Tyra walks out of the hotel room, and I sigh, maybe it won’t be too bad, I mean I do enjoy advocacy events, hopefully it’s not full of stuck up old rich men, Tyra did say the CEO was a woman.

-

The event hasn’t been too bad so far, I’ve been introduced to a few really interesting people who seem genuinely interested in what I do, “and this, is y/n y/ln, the CEO of y/ln holdings” Tyra taps me and gestures to a woman stood next to her. I grab on to Tyra’s arm to stable myself, i genuinely think my knees were about to give out. Tyra side eyes me questioningly. 

“Leah! Hi, wow I’m so happy to meet you and so beyond grateful you were able to come tonight, you have no idea how much it means!” Y/n exclaims, offering her hand forward, I stand still, gobsmacked at the angelic woman stood infront of me, smiling brightly, praising me. Tyra shoves me “ow!” I turn to scowl her, she subtly gestures to y/n’s hand still waiting for mine to shake it. “Oh shit” I mumble and y/n laughs quietly, I quickly embrace her hand in mine and shake it. I look up at y/n and meet her eyes, my mouth opens slightly at the feeling of her hand in mine and her eyes staring through me, I feel something electric run through me, and by the look on her face I think she does too. “Well Leah why don’t we take advantage of your presence here and let’s have a drink, I’d love to hear your opinion on some of my ideas for women’s football.” She smiles gently. I nod and smile back “I’d love to” she pulls my hand that’s still clasped with hers and leads me to the bar.

-

@leahwilliamsonn

Wow! What a night, thank you @y/ln.holdings ☺️

@y/ln.holdings: Thanks for coming Leah!

@user78930: ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS WOAH

@emilythompson76: Gorgeous!!

@bethmead_: 🔥🔥🔥

@keriawalsh: bloody lovely 

@alexscott2: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

@y/n_y/ln: Hope you enjoyed your night😉

“Really?” I turn to y/n who is slumped up in my bed, sheets covering her bare chest.

“What!? Did you enjoy your night?” She smirks and moves closer to me. 

“Mmmh it was okay” I smirk back

“Just okay huh? Well we’ll have to do something about that, can’t you having just an ‘okay’ night” 

“Oh yeah? What are we gonna have to do?” I question her, eyebrow raised

“Why don’t I show you” she whispers

-

Y/n’s pov: (2 months later)

“Ugh, for fucks sakes” I mumble, after getting my 175th email within the last 10 minutes. I run my hands through my hair and lean back in my chair, letting out a much needed breath when I hear a knock on the door. “Miss y/ln?” My assistant Emily peeks through the door, “yes Emily?” I say, slightly more aggressive than intended, “Leah is here to see you ma’am”, “oh Emily for gods sake how many times have I told you to just call me y/n?!” She looks down “sorry ma’am-I mean- uh”, “send her through please”, Emily nods and shuts the door. 

-

“I know darling” Leah assures as she softly massages my shoulders while I ramble about work.

“And it’s just non stop, Richard will not stop hassling me about the stocks and Ryan! Oh god don’t get me started on Ryan, I swear to go all he doe-“

“I want you to meet my friends” Leah cuts me off. I pause and spin in my chair to face her, “what?” I question, making sure I heard her right. “I said I want you to meet my friends, my teammates. You’ve become so important to me y/n, and I love you so much, you’ve met my family and I’d love for you to meet my friends as well, I want you to be able to know people if you ever get the chance to come to one of my games or bring you as a date to a team night, you know how much Arsenal and the team means to me, I want the two most important things in my life to know each other” she says, whispering the last sentence. 

I grin up at her brightly, “god how are you real?” I question her.

“I don’t know to be honest I’m pretty unreal aren’t I” she smiles cockily.

I slap her arm and stand up so we’re face to face, I grab the back of her neck “come here idiot”. 

-

Leah’s pov:

“Baby calm down it’s okay” I reach for y/n’s thigh and rub gently to stop her shaking. 

“No babe because what if they hate me, fuck”

“Darling girl listen to me, they’re not going to hate you, I love you, and they will too, so let’s go in there and let me show off my sexy, smart, bossy girlfriend” I smile at her.

“Okay.” She says and takes a deep breath.

I lean forward and capture her lips in a reassuring kiss, “I love you y/n”.

“I love you too my love, I just want the people that mean most to you to like me, I don’t want to lose you” she responds and I simply kiss her again, this time a little harder, fuelled with passion at her words.

-

“Leah all we’re saying is to be careful” Keira says, I look around at my friends, Alex, Beth, Katie, Lia, and Keira all staring at me, huddled in a corner, trying to convince me to be careful with y/n. 

“You guys don’t know anything about it why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“We are happy for you mate we just want to make sure you’re being cautious” Alex responds.

“Leah things are different for us now, we just won the Euro’s, you don’t know what people’s intentions are with you”

“Oh for fucks same would you lot give it a rest, I’m telling you right now y/n is not a gold digger! That wouldn’t even make any sense” I storm off to find my girl, “what?” I hear them question behind me.

-

“Come on darling, we’re going” I slide me hand around y/n’s waist.

“Why baby? Is everything okay?” She looks at me concerned. 

“No, my friends are being stuck up assholes, I just want to leave” 

“Okay baby we can leave” I pull her by the waist to lead us out of the pub.

“Leah wait!” I hear Lia call out after me, the rest of the girls following her, “we’re sorry we just want to look out for you”

“No you lot are being entitled twats, you don’t even know what y/n does for a living” y/n turns to me confused.

“What are you all talking about?” She asks.

“Well darling, my dear friends here are accusing you of being a gold digger” y/n laughs to herself in amazement but quickly stops when she realises I’m being serious. 

“Oh you’re serious?” She questions and turns to my friends.

They all look down.

“Y/n is the CEO of a company dickheads, she doesn’t like to boast but she was in Forbes’ millionaire list, her family has run a business for decades which she’s now taken over, so if anyone should be accused of gold digging here it’d make most sense that it was me.” I say to the girls, whose faces have all suddenly turned apologetic.

“We’re sorry Leah” they all say amongst each other.

“No, it’s y/n you should be apologising to” 

“You’re right” Beth says, “we are so sorry y/n, we didn’t even make an effort to get to know you, fuck honestly we are so sorry, can we please start fresh?” They all nod in agreement.

“It’s okay girls honestly you were just looking out for her, but to make it up to me you’re all gonna have to buy me a drink” she winks.

-

@y/n_y/ln

A bunch of gold diggers

A/n: I loved this request! I hope I did it justice. If anyone has any feedback or anymore requests feel free to message, comment, or put in my asks! Hope you all enjoy :)

[chirpsythismorning]

This is everything the Stranger Things writers have posted publicly about the WGA strike:

TIMELINE

May 3rd:

Stranger Things writer Caitlin Schneiderhan tweets picture from personal Twitter account of sign from the strike that reads 'Pay us or Steve Harrington is toast'

May 6th:

Official Stranger Writers Twitter account makes post on behalf of the Duffers Brothers. They have since pinned this tweet to their profile. "Duffers here. Writing does not stop when filming begins. While we're excited to start production with our amazing cast and crew, it is not possible during this strike. We hope a fair deal is reached soon so we can all get back to work. Until then -- over and out. #wgastrong

Bonus:

May 12th:

Stranger Things writer Kate Trefry posts picture from personal Tumblr account of sign that reads, 'Byler won’t write itself'

As far as I know, the two writers that posted on their personal socials are the only writers from ST that even have personal accounts that are public, whereas the rest of the writers do not.

What does make me take a pause though, is that, while yes they did post these pictures from their personal accounts, which is about as official as it gets, they also cryptically did not include themselves in said pictures...

This just got me thinking about how Stranger Things is quite literally Netflix and vise versa. They are practically one in the same, where one without the other just doesn't make sense.

While this conflict of interest might run deep for many writers out there fearing to speak out against their employer, for us, the consumers, the fans, we as a collective have so much more power than we realize.

In contrast to the writers, streamers can't just fire their consumer base sometime down the line, out of spite for speaking out. Without consumers, neither Stranger Things nor Netflix would be what it is today.

We have the affordance of being able to speak up the loudest of anyone. And so why wouldn't we take advantage of that?

There are so many people out there protesting: writers, actors, others in the industry and even outside of it who are also taking a stand, many who need support so that they can continue to fight in the upcoming days, weeks, months, without being deterred by corporations that are making them feel greedy for demanding a contract that at most, asks that they be paid fairly.

And so I want to encourage anyone that is reading this, but fellow fans of Stranger Things especially, who have so much power in this strike when it comes to getting Netflix's attention, to consider taking the time to do whatever you can individually + with the masses as a community in order to best support the strike.

Follow the Strike! If you're active on various social media already, please be sure to follow the official accounts advocating for the strike via Instagram (@writersguildwest/@wgaeast), via Twitter (@WGAWest/@WGAEast). Engage with posts from folks that are out there daily, many with whom you can find by following tags like #WGAStrong, #WGAStrike and #WritersStrike. Although most fans are not able to join in picketing themselves, we can at least recognize all of those out there's individual efforts and do our best to show that we're paying attention and listening!

Spread the word! Show support any way you can by sharing posts and articles about the strike, or even fun memes to inform others in a more engaging way. This is the official site for the WGA strike if you want to learn more about what’s going on before diving in! And make sure to stay up-to-date here as things continue to unfold!

Donate! The Entertainment Community Fund is endorsed by the WGA for anyone that wants to support those affected by the strike financially. And this thread on Twitter is an incredible resourse, as it provides an ‘easy, one-click, stress-free, accessible-to-all-budgets’ ways you can support folks on the front lines.

Also! Consider donating through this link for the Entertainment Community Fund, where the money donated still goes directly to that fund, this is just an organizing page for Stranger Things fans specifically! By allowing fans to see how much of an impact we make as a collective, in real time, this could encourage even more ST fans to want to contribute. In a best case scenario, if this GoFundMe were to reach impressive proportions of donations from fans, that could lead to news outlets reporting on it, which could allow an opportunity for even more eyes on the strike, while also even more importantly being able to provide financial support to those that need it.

Trend! On social media, use #StrangerFansforWGA to trend or even just to reach other fans also looking to come together to support the strike!

While I know this post probably wont reach anywhere outside of Tumblr, I want to make a point to encourage those of you that are on other platforms to inform fans in those spaces about the strike and what they can do to help!

We might not all agree on everything, but I think we can agree on at least one thing... @Netflix & all major streamers and networks out there, who are still refusing to make a fair deal: PAY YOUR WRITERS!

In the mean time, if you're interested in working on different ideas for initiates we can carry out as a fandom, please reach out to me! I might only one person and I might not have all the answers and solutions, but I do know that with more of us working together, our odds of making an impact are much greater!

Over and out!

[themissinghand]

Nice to meet you🤗..If the request is still open, Can I ask for Dokja's request for lucky female readers?🥹..Where do reader have high good luck?.The reader and Kim Dokja have known each other for a long time because the reader first started a conversation with Dokja (I'm sure it's fun when Dokja introduces reader to his group😂.) It's okay if not. Just don't be stressed by the requests. I hope the requests don't bother you.. Thank you.. And may your whole day till night be good.. Bye-bye.. Don't forget to take care of yourself.🤗💕

Omniscient Reader Viewpoint Lucky Star

Summary: In which Dokja finds his lucky star.

Or, maybe he’s not that unlucky after all.

Pairing: Kim Dokja x Lucky! F! Reader

Note: Thanks for your patience! Make sure you all take care of yourselves too~

Noona: typically used by younger male to call an older female or sibling.

Warning: None.

★・・・・・・★

If there is an angel in this world, then it must be you.

You were a bright light in his life, providing salvation to him in forms of patience, encouragement, and friendship.

You were his manager at the game company he worked at. Someone who was vibrant and cheerful, who possessed an uncanny ability to turn the mundane into moments of joy.

"Dokja! Let’s go for a drink!" You would say, your infectious enthusiasm pulling him into a world where deadlines and stress would melt away.

But you also knew when to not take in bullshit.

“Hey (Y/N), why are you overreacting? Huh? Just because I didn’t do my work the one time-“

“One time? It’s been a week since you did anything. And you put it on the newbie to finish it?”

“So what? You’re a terrible manager anyway, that’s why women shouldn’t work here-“

A snap silenced him.

“Hey mother fucker, calculate your severance pay. Talk to me like that in the disputes office and see who dies first.”

Kim Dokja heard it accidentally, but from then on, his respect for you has soared above the clouds.

"Dokja, you've got this! I'll teach you the ropes.”

Dokja marveled at your ability to lead the team with outspoken confidence, patiently teaching him the ropes and offering unwavering support when the challenges of the workplace seemed overwhelming.

“Happy birthday to our newbie, Kim Dokja!”

“Merry Christmas everyone! I got some gifts!”

“Ya, let’s go out for a drink everyone! I got the holy bank card from the boss!”

The team loves you for being a beacon of light, someone who could be fun and leader-like at the same time.

Dokja couldn't help but think that you must be cherished by the heavens, as you were blessed with an extraordinary dose of luck.

Like how you would “accidentally” meet important connections and befriend them, leading to successful results in projects.

Or how you would win those in gacha games with the character that you wanted.

“Noona, if you were in a game, your luck stat would be maxed out.”

“I guess so, but isn’t that good?”

Very soon after, little did he know that your luck would soon become a lifeline when the world plunged into chaos.

When the apocalypse struck, Dokja stumbled upon the familiar face in an unlikely place – the convenience store, hastily gathering supplies with a calm demeanor that belied the impending doom. It was then that he realized the depth of her luck, a quality that extended beyond corporate success.

Like how does someone find a healing elixir in a pile of junk food in the convenience store!?

Or how does she find a ultra rare bow in a police station?

What is this unfair world!?

Dokja appreciates your help and your luck, but at the same time, he can’t help but lament on his own life.

Perhaps the luckiest thing that happened to him was dating you.

With such a thought, Kim Dokja’s lips curled up and hugged you from behind.

“What wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Does my good boy want some love?”

Although he was blushing aggressively and in public, he couldn’t help but nod.

[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is squealing and wishing for grandchildren]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ thinks Incarnation ‘Kim Dokja’ play a main character of a romance comedy show]

[The Constellations have sponsored you 1000 coins]

“Get a room.”

Dokja expected the worst when Yoo Joonghyuk entered the scene, but to his surprise, your life was spared.

“She’s useful.” Says the emo sunfish as he glares at Dokja for absolutely no reason.

(Okay, there might be that one time where he returned a punch, and absolutely wrecked that protagonist…no regrets)

Dokja wants to smack him a few times in the face.

The revelation that her constellation was the Secretive Plotter added another layer of mystery to her extraordinary luck. The constellation seemed to guard her against many dangers, marking her as someone to be protected, though for some unknown reason.

Can’t say Kim Dokja has any complaints about that at all.

You must be protected at all costs.

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ thinks her lucky encounters and moments are interesting]

[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ donates 1864 coins]

Whatever it is, Kim Dokja has no complaints…scrap that, he has too many complaints since he has too many rivals!

“(Y/N), you are my lucky star right?”

“Yep! Don’t worry!” She pats him on the head and he ignores the knowing looks from others on the team.

“Hug.”

“Someone’s needy today.” Kim Dokja gave others the middle finger behind your back as he rested his head on your shoulders.

From that point on, Dokja affectionately dubbed her his "lucky star" or, as they playfully jokes, his "lucky charm."

Whether it was winning luck-based games or navigating perilous situations unscathed, your fortunate aura became a source of both amusement and comfort in the face of uncertainty.

“So, what’s it like raising a puppy as a Sugar Mommy?” Han Sooyoung asks you, who chuckles lightly.

“Han Sooyoung.” Kim Dokja twitched a brow, but calmed down a bit when you held his hand.

“He’s not a puppy, but he’s cute and bites people he doesn’t like. And he protects me well!”

“(Y/N)!” Kim Dokja blushes in embarrassment but couldn’t say anything in his stuttering mess.

Han Sooyoung raised a brow before she mimicked a barfing action.

“Damn girl, you have it hard, I respect you.” She patted your shoulder before leaving.

“Dokja, just like I’m your lucky star and charm, you are my lucky puppy. Okay?”

Looking at your puppy face, Dokja couldn’t say no.

“Fine…just don’t call me that in public…”

Kim Dokja felt a kiss in his nose, and he reciprocated the action by lacing your hands together.

“Aw, who’s a good boy?”

“Stop it…”

Your laughter is music to his ears, and while sometimes your teases make him want to hide somewhere in a hole and die from embarrassment, he loves you all the same.

“Get a room!”

“Shut up you sunfish!”

Maybe cursing at the protagonist isn’t the greatest idea.

(When has that ever stopped him?)

“I will kill you Kim Dokja!”

[thedensworld]

Doesn't Mind At All | Hong Joshua

Pairing: Secretary!Joshua x Baker!Reader (Ft. Boss!Junhui and Brother!Mingyu)

Genre: Romance, fluff, longtime crushing

Summary: Hong Joshua willingly agrees to pick up his boss's daughter from school, not realizing that this simple task would lead to an unexpected encounter with his longtime crush.

In the bustling halls of the company, Joshua was a familiar face. His presence was like a ray of sunshine, brightening up the office with his infectious smile and angelic personality. It was no secret that he held a special place in the hearts of many, having won the coveted title of "Best Office Crush" the previous year, even surpassing the CEO, Moon Junhui.

Joshua wore this badge with a quiet pride, knowing full well that his boss's concerns mainly revolved around the company's products and reputation. As he marked his sixth year as Junhui's faithful secretary and personal assistant, he couldn't help but marvel at the milestone. It was a record that stood unchallenged, a testament to Joshua's unwavering dedication.

Nobody understood Junhui quite like Joshua did, save for perhaps Junhui's own wife. When it came to the intricacies of Junhui's professional mindset, it was said that only Hong Joshua had the finesse to meet and exceed the exacting expectations. This was precisely why Joshua was regarded as the company's most precious gem.

Behind every successful CEO, there was an exceptional secretary, and for Moon Junhui, that shining star was none other than Joshua. Their dynamic was like a well-choreographed dance, a seamless blend of professionalism and camaraderie. They were the dynamic duo, the unsung heroes of the corporate world.

Joshua was renowned for his quick wit, tireless work ethic, and a personality that could charm even the most hardened hearts. His reputation had earned him a multitude of labels, particularly among the female officers, who couldn't help but marvel at the creation of such a seemingly perfect human being. Despite his friendly demeanor, Joshua was adept at setting clear boundaries, creating a distinct line and an almost impermeable wall when it came to romantic interests – a trait that some of the women officers considered to be his only flaw.

Approaching a group of women engrossed in a discussion (or rather, gossiping) about him, Joshua balanced a pack of coffee cups in his hands. With a gracious smile, he handed them out, congratulating them on the success of their recent event two days prior. "You're an angel, Mr. Hong," one of them swooned, to which Joshua graciously thanked her.

Another voice chimed in, "Mr. Hong, may we ask you a few questions? We've been discussing something about you, and it would be wonderful if you could satisfy our curiosity." Joshua settled into a seat, joining their circle. "And here I thought you guys were deep into discussions about our ramyeon drama project," he teased, eliciting chuckles from the others.

"We're actually really-really-really eager to know if you're single or taken," one of them blurted out, while another followed up with, "we've been speculating, and we have absolutely no idea!" Joshua's face reddened in response to the question, and he couldn't help but cover his face in playful embarrassment. What had he done to warrant such a query? Was he unintentionally giving off some sort of signal? The thought left him chuckling and slightly flustered, a rare sight for the usually unflappable secretary.

"Yeah! Absolutely. You gave us this. Yesterday you sent an email of appreciation to our rookie without her knowing that everyone received that as well and has been thinking that you like her. You've been committing a crime, Mr. Hong."

Joshua's brow furrowed as he listened to the explanation. "I can't do that?" he asked them, and they all simultaneously nodded in agreement. "Why?" he inquired once more, prompting a collective groan of exasperation from the women.

"You've been lavishing affection on the women in our company, the kind they haven't received from anyone else, all while displaying a sign that you have zero interest in dating any of them. That's just not right, Mr. Hong."

Joshua nodded, absorbing their words. "I'm sorry?" he offered, glancing down at the cups of coffee he had just handed out. "Should I take these back?" he gestured towards the beverages.

"Just stop sending affectionate emails and notes like this. At the very least, delete the heart emoticon," one of them instructed, holding up a note that Joshua had written, no doubt adorned with an affectionate flourish.

'Good job for the event guys! So proud of you🤍.'

"That's just a habit of mine! I'm sorry, I'll definitely work on that," Joshua offered, his voice carrying a hint of remorse as he mumbled his apologies.

"So, Mr. Hong. Are you single or taken?" inquired one of them. Joshua's smile widened as he answered, "I'm single."

To his surprise, this response was met with another collective groan from the group, leaving Joshua thoroughly perplexed. "Why? Did I answer it wrong? I'm not quite getting it," he admitted, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"You should never answer that kind of question with that kind of smile," one of them advised. Joshua nodded and hummed in understanding, contemplating whether he should spend more time observing and learning from this group of women. It seemed they held the key to deciphering the intricacies of office dynamics.

"Why are you single? I can't imagine it would be hard for someone with such an amazing face and personality to find a significant other," one of them remarked, their words laden with genuine admiration.

Joshua closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the shower of compliments. He joked that if they continued, he might just consider joining their group.

"I work really hard for the company, and I find it hard to make time for dating," Joshua explained, giving voice to their curiosity. "While I do find some women attractive, it's just that I struggle to strike a balance between my professional and personal life."

"Is there anyone you have in mind, perhaps?" another one queried.

As the seconds ticked by, a portrait of someone from his past suddenly emerged in Joshua's mind. He nodded slowly, acknowledging that there was indeed someone he had in mind. "Ah, my university crush," he quipped, breaking into laughter.

*

Joshua's gaze never wavered from his computer screen, immersed in the tasks that lay before him. The soft tap of approaching footsteps disrupted his concentration, and he turned to see his boss, Moon Junhui, standing beside him. Without hesitation, Joshua rose from his chair, a show of respect for the man who held a significant place in his professional life.

"I'm so sorry, but can you do me a favor?" Junhui's tone held a touch of urgency, a request layered with a sense of trust that Joshua had earned over the years.

"What time is my meeting next?" Junhui inquired, his focus on the packed schedule that dictated his day.

"At 2 PM, sir," Joshua replied promptly, the words rolling off his tongue with a practiced ease. He prided himself on his meticulous attention to detail, especially when it came to Junhui's demanding schedule.

Junhui nodded in acknowledgment, his mind already processing the logistics of the day ahead. Then, his expression softened, and he confided in Joshua, "My daughter, her school is off at 3 PM. I promised my wife to take her with me since her nanny is having her days off. I worry if I'm still in the middle of a meeting at that time." said Junhui about his 5 years old daughter.

Joshua's bond with Hara had grown into a heartwarming routine. It was a familiar sight for the office staff to see Joshua and Hara immersed in various activities. The young girl's intellect and remarkable patience made her a delightful companion, a rare gem in her tender years. Whenever Junhui found himself entangled in meetings, Joshua gladly stepped in to keep Hara company. They'd sit together at Joshua's desk, engrossed in creating art, crafting intricate bracelets, or simply sharing stories of Hara's adventures.

"I can pick her up, sir," Joshua proposed, eager to assist his boss and provide a helping hand.

Junhui's eyes reflected gratitude, a sigh of relief escaping him. "Thank you so much," he expressed, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily eased by Joshua's kind gesture.

"My wife is not feeling very well this morning, that's why I didn't want to trouble her. Thank you so much, Mr. Hong," Junhui reiterated, his appreciation genuine and heartfelt.

As the day approached for Joshua to pick up Hara from school, a mixture of excitement and nerves fluttered within him. This was uncharted territory for him, the first time he'd take on the responsibility of fetching a child from school. Determined to ensure everything went smoothly, he turned to the internet for guidance. His search yielded a concise list of tips, each one etching itself into his mind:

1. Make sure the school knows who you are and that the child is aware and comfortable with your presence.

2. Prioritize the child's comfort and well-being throughout the process.

3. While not obligatory, a snack can often be a reassuring gesture.

4. Engage the child in conversation about their day on the journey home.

With this newfound knowledge, Joshua prepared himself meticulously. He reached out to the teacher, providing them with his contact details and informing them of the situation. He wanted every precaution in place to ensure a smooth transition.

As the hour approached, he found himself behind the wheel, heading towards the school with a sense of determination. The address provided by Junhui led him to the school's gates, where he joined the gathering of parents. Amongst the mothers, Joshua stood.

Time seemed to stretch as he waited, the anticipation building with each passing minute. Finally, the school bell rang, heralding the end of the day. Joshua's gaze fixed on the entrance, heart pounding in anticipation.

Then, there she was—Hara, with her bright eyes and eager smile. Recognition sparked between them, a silent affirmation of the trust they had built. As Hara approached, Joshua's apprehensions melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence.

As Hara's small voice called out, "Uncle!" with uncontainable excitement, Joshua's face lit up with a wide smile. He knelt down, arms ready to receive the approaching bundle of joy. The little girl rushed into his embrace, her tiny arms outstretched in pure delight.

"Hi Hara!" Joshua greeted her warmly, the affection in his voice mirroring the twinkle in his eyes.

Hara, her eyes sparkling like stars, peered up at Joshua with a curious glint. "Is daddy busy?" she inquired, her innocence adding a touch of sweetness to the question. Joshua nodded gently, his expression tender. "Yes, sweetie. That's why I'm the lucky one picking you up today. Are you excited?"

Hara's response was a burst of unrestrained enthusiasm. Her head bobbed up and down like an animated doll, her voice a melodious chorus of, "Yes, yes, yes!" Her anticipation radiated from her like a beacon of pure childhood joy, painting the air around them with an infectious excitement.

As they strolled towards the car, Hara, her small hand nestled in Joshua's, turned to him with a curious look. She inquired about her father, Junhui, if he had his lunch this afternoon. Joshua pondered for a moment, recalling whether Junhui had managed to grab lunch before diving into the meeting. He was certain Junhui hadn't.

"Can we stop at the bakery near my school? I want to buy him and you my favorite cupcake," Hara proposed, her eyes wide with hope. Joshua couldn't resist her earnest request. After all, who could say no to cupcakes? It was a harmless indulgence.

Upon arriving at the bakery, Hara's eyes widened, a sudden gasp escaping her lips. Instantly, Joshua's protective instincts kicked in, a rush of concern washing over him. He swiftly turned to Hara, asking with a gentle urgency, "Are you okay?"

Hara's confession, delivered with the innocence only a five-year-old could muster, both touched and amused Joshua. She looked up at him, her big eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and honesty. "I don't have any money."

Suppressing a chuckle, Joshua crouched down to her level, his tone reassuring. "It's okay, sweetie. I'll take care of it." As his words washed over her, a radiant smile lit up Hara's face, the worry dissipating as swiftly as it had come.

As they stepped into the bakery, a hush settled over the empty space, the only sound being the faint hum of refrigeration units. They ambled through the inviting displays, each dessert a potential treasure trove for Hara. She nestled in Joshua's arms, torn between the allure of a cupcake and the temptation of a cookie.

"Why not both?" Joshua's voice, tender and reassuring, broke the internal struggle Hara was facing. Her eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight. "Is that okay?"

With an eager nod, Hara's decision was made, and Joshua promptly collected both the coveted cupcake and the enticing cookie. The radiant smile that bloomed on her face was Joshua's reward, but it was the soft, whispered "thank you..." that danced in his ears that truly warmed his heart.

Just as they were immersed in this sweet exchange, a sudden, welcoming voice enveloped the bakery, pulling Joshua's attention away from the confections. "Welcome to Sweeties..."

Joshua's breath hitched, his gaze swiftly shifting from the colorful array of treats to the source of the voice. Standing a mere two meters away was a familiar face, one that sent a jolt of surprise and recognition through him. It was Y/n, his dear friend from college.

"Wait just a minute, Hara," Joshua gently set her down and took a step toward the woman, a sense of pleasant shock mirrored in both their expressions at this unexpected reunion.

"Y/n, it's been such a long time!" Joshua's voice bubbled with genuine joy, his smile growing wider as he caught sight of Y/n's matching grin.

"I thought I was imagining things. I had no idea you were in Seoul," Y/n admitted, her surprise blending with a palpable delight.

"Yeah, it's been 7 years since I moved here. How have you been?" Joshua inquired, his tone filled with a mixture of curiosity and genuine care. The air around them seemed to buzz with the energy of reconnection, weaving a bridge between their shared past and this unexpected present encounter.

"I'm doing great, and you? I've spotted her around a few times," Y/n mentioned, her gaze shifting towards Hara who was now engrossed in examining the colorful macarons displayed on the stall.

Joshua's eyes twinkled with fondness as he observed Hara's fascination. He turned back to Y/n, a warm chuckle escaping him. "I'm good too. Her school is just a few blocks from here. Can you believe it? It's like a dream come true," he remarked, a subtle nod towards the array of delectable pastries that surrounded them. He knew of Y/n's long-standing dream from their university days to own her own bakery.

Y/n offered a nonchalant shrug, but there was a glint of contentment in her eyes. "I know, right? It's been two years, and it's become my favorite job."

Joshua's gaze wandered to Y/n's hands, and there, he spotted a delicate ring adorning her middle finger. He couldn't help but ask, curiosity laced with a touch of surprise, "Are you engaged?" Their eyes met, and Y/n hesitated for a moment, her gaze flitting towards Hara before she softly affirmed, "Yeah," with a slow, affirmative nod.

The next question carried a weight of intensity, as Joshua inquired, "Are you happy?" His concern for Y/n radiated through his gaze. She met his eyes steadily, her response deliberate and sincere, another nod indicating her contentment.

As their conversation flowed, Hara made her selection of treats. Just as Joshua was about to pay, Y/n interjected, her voice carrying a note of generosity. "It's on the house."

Joshua's immediate response was to decline, insisting they were purchasing quite a bit and it wouldn't be fair to receive them for free. Y/n countered with a tempting offer, "Alright then, how about coffee? Still a fan of your Americano with two shots?"

A laugh bubbled from Joshua, the sound warm and genuine. It seemed Y/n knew just how to strike a deal that left everyone feeling content and connected in this unexpected reunion at the sweet haven of her bakery.

As they settled into the car, Hara's voice, laced with curiosity, broke the brief silence. "Do you know her, uncle?" she inquired. Joshua, his focus on the road, let out a thoughtful hum. The engine purred to life, carrying them away towards the office.

Then, unexpectedly, Joshua's voice filled the car, carrying a note of nostalgia. "She was my first love in college."

Hara's wide eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Really? Were you two dating?" she asked, her young mind eager for the details. Joshua, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, shook his head with a soft smile. "We were friends from the first day of college, but I never mustered the courage to confess. Seeing her again after all these years was quite a surprise."

Hara's curiosity continued to swell, her innocence driving her to probe further. "Why didn't you confess?" she wondered aloud.

A tender sincerity colored Joshua's voice as he explained, "I didn't want to risk losing our friendship."

Hara pondered this for a moment before pressing on. "But did you ever try to confess?" she inquired, her young eyes studying Joshua's face for any hint of what might lie beneath his words.

Joshua, his gaze softening, shook his head gently, the weight of the past mingling with the present. It was a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that had lingered.

Hara's little face contorted into a playful pout, her dad's wisdom echoing in her mind. "My dad says that trying might hurt but it'll be worth it," she mused, her voice tinged with a mix of contemplation and innocence. Joshua couldn't help but be touched by the profound simplicity in her words, a wisdom that belied her tender years.

Listening to Hara's musings, a soft smile played on Joshua's lips. He decided to seize the moment to seek her opinion on the matter. "Honestly, I have no idea what that means," Hara replied nonchalantly, the weight of her father's advice not yet entirely comprehensible to her young mind. Meanwhile, she nibbled contentedly on her macaroon, the pastel hues of the sweet treat contrasting with her contemplative expression.

Joshua, amused by her response, seized the opportunity to ask about the taste of the macaroon. "Is that good?" he inquired, his tone filled with genuine interest. Hara's enthusiastic nod affirmed her satisfaction, her eyes bright with the pleasure of the delightful treat.

"Thanks for buying me, Uncle. I'll pay you back once I grow up!" Hara declared, her gratitude expressed with a sincerity that warmed Joshua's heart. He nodded, deciding to play along with her lighthearted promise.

One time, two times, and then countless more, Joshua found himself in the routine of picking up Hara from school. What started as a simple request from his boss had evolved into a regular volunteer role for him. The smile on Junhui's face whenever he saw them together spoke volumes. It was clear that Hara cherished these moments with Joshua, and the journey from school to her father's office was transformed into an exciting adventure.

Reason number one for Joshua's eagerness was crystal clear. It wasn't just about being a reliable presence for Hara. It was the genuine joy he felt in her company. They laughed, shared stories, and sometimes even indulged in small escapades that turned ordinary errands into memorable episodes.

And then there was reason number two, which Joshua didn't mind admitting. It was the perfect excuse to visit Y/n's enchanting bakery. The aroma of freshly baked goodies, the vibrant display of pastries, and the warm ambiance—it was a slice of paradise in his day. As he'd open the door, he'd already know Hara's inevitable request, "Can I have my favorite macaroon from Sweeties, please?" It was almost a ritual. Her preferences would shift from cupcakes to macaroons, but Joshua didn't mind. For him, it was the smile on her face that truly mattered.

However, amid all these routines, there was another habit that had stealthily crept up on Joshua. It wasn't until the third visit that he became aware of it. Staring at his reflection in the rearview mirror, he'd question himself. "Is his hair styled just right? Is the suit impeccably ironed? Does his shirt complement his skin tone? And can she catch a whiff of his carefully chosen perfume?" These were the thoughts that occupied his mind.

He couldn't help but chuckle at his own introspection. "Who are you trying to impress, Hong? A stack of macaroons? An almond croissant sitting on the stall?" he'd jest with himself. But deep down, he knew the answer. His thoughts always circled back to Y/n, his college crush, who seemed to occupy a special corner in his heart.

With every encounter, every conversation, his feelings for her only grew stronger. It was a realization that struck him with a mixture of nostalgia and newfound hope. The crush he thought he'd buried long ago was very much alive, and in fact, thriving. Each interaction with Y/n was like a brushstroke, painting a vivid picture of affection that Joshua couldn't deny any longer.

*

"As expected, Y/n," Joshua chirped, his voice a friendly melody in the air. Y/n made her way from the kitchen, a tray laden with warm, freshly baked bread cradled in her hands. A gentle smile danced on her lips, brought to life by the sight of Hara's bright, shimmering eyes.

Setting the tray on the stool, Y/n felt a warmth spread through her. Hara mumbled something, a secret shared only for Y/n to catch. Sensing Hara's shyness, Joshua leaned in, his words a gentle encouragement, assuring her that she needn't be timid in Y/n's presence. "Speak up, Hara, she's as friendly as they come!" he added with a chuckle, infusing the moment with a touch of humor.

"Can I get that too, uncle?" Hara's voice was sweet and eager, breaking the air with innocence and curiosity.

Y/n's brows shot up in surprise. "Uncle?" she echoed, her curiosity piqued. It was the first time she'd heard Hara's voice, and the term caught her off guard.

Y/n struggled to find her words, the question hanging on the tip of her tongue, but not quite making its way out. This revelation left her momentarily speechless.

Joshua, noticing Y/n's bewilderment, turned to her with a questioning look. "She's calling you... isn't she your daughter?" She inquired, a touch of confusion in her eyes.

Joshua glanced at Y/n, his expression a mixture of surprise and realization. "Oh, I never told you?" he began, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "She's my boss's daughter. I haven't tied the knot yet, Y/n." His tone was gentle, as though sharing a cherished secret.

A sudden chill raced down Y/n's spine, propelling her into swift action. She deftly gathered all the sweets that Hara had chosen. Joshua, startled by her abrupt shift in demeanor, watched in quiet curiosity, sensing that now wasn't the time to inquire.

A soft chime announced a newcomer. The door swung open, revealing a tall, sun-kissed man, his smile lighting up the room. Clutched in his hand was a bundle of meals, a simple offering of warmth and sustenance. What didn't escape Joshua's notice was the glint of an engagement ring gracing the man's finger.

"Ah, I should get going," Joshua murmured, a touch of awkwardness dancing in his smile. He gently informed Hara that they needed to head to the office. With a wave, Hara bid Y/n goodbye, her departure leaving a faint sense of longing in the air.

The newcomer, attuned to the change in atmosphere, turned to Y/n with concern etched across his face. He couldn't help but ask, "Who is he?" The question hung in the air, tinged with a hint of curiosity and a touch of wariness.

Y/n was willing to bet that Joshua overheard Mingyu's inquisitive words. With their departure, a weight seemed to settle in the air. She released a heavy sigh, her body finding solace against the worn counter.

This subtle motion didn't escape the notice of her concerned brother. "What's wrong? Who is he? Is he bothering you?" Mingyu's voice dripped with a blend of worry and slight irritation. He couldn't bear the thought of Y/n being bothered.

Y/n mumbled something, her words lost in the quiet ambiance of the shop. Mingyu leaned in, his gentle touch a balm to her unsettled soul. "What is it?" he coaxed, his voice laced with a mixture of affection and protective concern. With a tender gesture, he placed her meal on the counter.

"He's Josh."

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise. "Joshua hyung? How could he not recognize me?" His disbelief was evident, eyebrows shooting up.

With a hint of annoyance, Y/n lifted her face to meet Mingyu's gaze. "How could anyone recognize you? Even your old self wouldn't," she quipped, a playful tease aimed at her brother's considerable transformation.

Mingyu let out a scoff, his lips twitching into a half-smile. "Then why are you like this? Aren't you happy to see him again?" he inquired, his concern tinged with a touch of gentle reproach. Y/n nodded, acknowledging the mix of emotions swirling within her.

"He's been around a few times. With that kid," Y/n murmured, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy.

Mingyu's eyes widened in realization. "He's married?! Poor you, holding onto a long-term crush," he sympathized, his heart going out to his sister. "Come here, let me give you a hug." Mingyu's arms enveloped Y/n, offering comfort and understanding in this unexpected moment of emotional complexity.

However, Y/n didn't respond to Mingyu's attempt at comfort in the way he anticipated. Instead, a sharp slap landed on his arm, prompting a surprised whine to escape from him. "Why?!"

"He's not married," Y/n muttered, her voice tinged with frustration as she tried to untangle the complex web of emotions.

Mingyu's brow furrowed in confusion. "Then what? Is he divorced?" Another slap followed, this time landing on his other arm.

"Stop hitting me! It hurts," Mingyu protested, determined to put an end to the arm-slapping.

Y/n let out an exasperated groan, realizing how convoluted the situation had become. "Just listen!" she implored, her tone a blend of exasperation and urgency. "And don't you dare laugh." Her words earned a stifled chuckle from her younger brother. In a swift move, Y/n attempted another slap, but Mingyu managed to catch her hand, his grip firm yet gentle.

"I think I made a mistake," Y/n began, her voice tinged with regret.

"He started visiting the shop two months ago, and it's become a regular thing," she explained, a touch of frustration in her tone. "I assumed the child he always brought along was his daughter. I mean, who wouldn't? But it turns out, she's his boss's daughter."

Mingyu's brow arched in curiosity. "So, where's the twist?"

Y/n hesitated, her gaze dropping to the glimmering ring on her finger. "He saw this," she confessed, her voice a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. "And he thought I was engaged. He asked me if I was... and, you know what I said? Yes. I said yes because I thought he was married, and I was just protecting myself. I'm so messed up, Kim Mingyu." Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her impulsive decision.

Mingyu let out a sigh, absorbing Y/n's explanation. "Why did you even lie?" he inquired, a touch of perplexity in his voice.

Y/n's eyes darted around, her frustration evident. "Because— I don't know! He saw my ring and I couldn't just blurt out, 'The ring has the flower you gave me and your name engraved on it.' Especially when he was here with a child who could very well be his daughter."

Mingyu couldn't help but be impressed. He let out a low whistle and applauded. "You're so witty and clumsy all at once. We really are siblings," he remarked with a grin.

Y/n shot him a sidelong glance, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. She reached for the meal Mingyu had brought, a sense of familiarity and comfort settling over them.

The atmosphere softened as Mingyu unwrapped the meal, confirming it was from their mother. He explained how she had hastily prepared it upon his request to visit the shop, and then suggested that Y/n pay their mother a visit soon. It served as a gentle reminder of the last time Y/n had seen their mother, at their father's funeral. Their relationship had been strained since the divorce.

Shifting gears, Y/n inquired about Mingyu's upcoming wedding preparations. He let out a sigh, expressing some of the inevitable stress that comes with such occasions. "You shouldn't get married!" he joked, sharing the minor hurdles in planning with a wry smile. "Nari changed her mind three times about the decorations. And now she wants me to ask you about changing the dessert menu."

Y/n chuckled softly, a warm affection in her gaze. "It's okay. These things happen for big events," she assured him, playfully ruffling his hair. Mingyu leaned in for an embrace, expressing a touch of nostalgia. "I wish I were still a high schooler," he mumbled, resting his head on Y/n's shoulder. Her hand instinctively rose to pat his back. "You're doing a fantastic job, Mingyu. I'm proud that you took such a brave step at your age. I'm genuinely happy for you."

Pulling back, Mingyu looked at Y/n with a sincere smile. "I'm happy too, just a bit nervous and exhausted maybe," he admitted, and Y/n nodded understandingly.

"Since Mom and Dad divorced, you've been the one raising me. I may not say it often, but I hope you know that I've always been thankful for your presence, noona. And I hope you're happy too."

Y/n closed her eyes, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. "Stop it! I have to face customers after this!" she protested, a hint of tears glistening in her eyes.

Mingyu's smile softened, his gaze filled with affection for his older sister. "Invite him to my wedding. I hope you find the confidence to express your feelings to him. Don't worry about his answer. Men can be trash, unless me." he teased, bringing a lightness to the moment.

*

As closing time approached, Y/n began the task of tidying up the stall. Her baker had headed home promptly at 5 pm, while she was committed to staying until 10. A handful of croissants remained, their golden flakiness begging for a home. Who could resist a few bites of almond cream at night? Certainly not her customers. And that bottle of wine, a thoughtful gift from Mingyu two years back, had been patiently waiting for an occasion. Tonight seemed just right. After the whirlwind of a day, a glass of wine was exactly what Y/n needed to unwind and savor the quiet moments.

As she finished adjusting the croissant and set the table, a chime echoed through her shop. "I'm sorry, but we're clos— Josh?"

Y/n's voice caught in her throat as she recognized the unexpected visitor. There stood Joshua, tall and commanding, without his usual suit. Instead, he wore a sharp blue shirt that effortlessly complemented his appearance. The sleeves were casually rolled up to his elbows, a style that defied the odds and only added to his allure.

"It's night, what are you doing?" Y/n questioned, her surprise evident. She quickly shook her head, a warm smile playing on her lips. "I mean, it's really nice to see you. But isn't it a bit late for something sweet?" Her words held a hint of confusion.

Joshua's laughter danced through the air, a familiar and soothing melody in the quiet of the evening.

"Not for an almond croissant," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation as he gestured towards the delectable pastries adorning the table. "May I join?" he asked, a polite request for permission.

Y/n hesitated for a brief moment before offering a hesitant nod. She swiftly fetched another croissant and a wine glass, setting them in front of Joshua. Settling herself across from him, she couldn't help but express her concern.

Y/n's care and curiosity were palpable in her inquiry. "How have you been?"

Joshua let out a heavy sigh, his response tinged with a sense of relief. "Yeah... Big work hit, but it's finally done. Had a team dinner around here. You know the Soba restaurant near the three section? It was good," he explained, a hint of contentment in his voice. Y/n nodded in understanding.

He continued, delving into nostalgia. "You used to like that soba from a shop near our university," he reminisced, a fond smile gracing his features.

"The one with the wooden chairs? We went there a lot," Y/n admitted, her own smile growing as she recalled those cherished moments. "I remember you ordered hot soba in the summer and I was like, 'What is wrong with her?' I remember laughing a lot that day," he recounted, a hint of playfulness in his tone. Joshua's words evoked vivid memories from their college years.

Y/n stifled a smile before adding, "It was when you just failed your exam."

Joshua's brows shot up in surprise. "Ah, really? I couldn't remember that. Yeah... I failed a lot of tests back in university," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. His gaze softened as he looked at Y/n, a sense of gratitude and warmth filling the air between them.

Joshua couldn't help but let out an impressed coo. "You haven't changed much, Y/n. Talking to you like this feels like we've stepped back a decade," he mused, tilting his head as his eyes traced the familiar features before him.

Y/n responded with a soft chuckle. "Meanwhile, you've changed quite a bit, Josh. I would never have expected to see you in a dress shirt and suit like today. You always favored crewnecks and that one t-shirt with the rock band print," she pointed out, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

Joshua joined in her laughter, acknowledging the transformation. "You're absolutely right! I've gone through quite the evolution. I ran into one of our friends from college a few days back, and he didn't even recognize me," he recalled, a touch of amusement in his tone.

"Even Mingyu couldn't recognize you," Y/n chimed in, and Joshua's brow furrowed in surprise.

"Mingyu? He met me? When?" Joshua was genuinely taken aback. He remembered Y/n's younger brother as a tall kid who matched his height back when he was still in junior high school, a decade ago.

Y/n's eyes widened, a chuckle escaping her. "The last time you visited. Mingyu was here," she reminded him. Joshua let out a small gasp. "It was Mingyu?! I thought he was your fiance!" he exclaimed, covering his face with his palm in embarrassment.

"It was Mingyu. He's grown a lot, hasn't he? It's not surprising that you two didn't recognize each other," Y/n reassured, a fondness in her voice.

Joshua let out a sigh, his fingers gently massaging his temple. "So, it was Kim Mingyu, that little rascal who used to pester you back in the early semesters," he recalled with a laugh, the memory now tinted with amusement and affection.

"How's your parent?" Joshua inquired, his tone gentle and concerned.

Y/n's lips pressed into a tight line, her expression revealing the weight of her words. "Not long after you moved to The States, they got divorced. We lived with our father for four years before he passed away," she explained, a somber note in her voice. She chose not to mention the years of estrangement from her mother.

Joshua's gaze softened, his eyes filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, I... I had no idea," he murmured, his heart heavy with the news.

"That's why you went out of reach," he concluded, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The sudden loss of contact with Y/n had always puzzled him, but now it made sense.

Y/n nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the memories that played in her mind. "My father's company faced bankruptcy, and my mother..." she hesitated, "she was cheating. They got divorced, and I had to work at the bakery near our university because my father couldn't afford to support both of us. And here I am, now. Running my own shop," she said, her smile holding a mixture of pride and reflection on how the challenges of the past had shaped her present.

Joshua looked at Y/n, his heart heavy with unspoken words. Guilt washed over him, rendering him momentarily speechless. He vividly recalled the day he had to break the news to Y/n about his impending move to the States, just two weeks before his flight. His mother, a single parent, had raised him alone from a young age. After his graduation, she informed him about their relocation due to her work, leaving behind everything in Seoul. Leaving Y/n was an agonizing decision, as she was the only thing that made Joshua contemplate staying. But he knew he had to join his mother after her earnest plea.

"Do you remember when I wanted to become a jeweler?" Y/n's voice pierced through the heavy air, drawing Joshua's attention. He nodded in response. She rose from her seat and went to the counter. When she returned, a small box nestled in her hand, Joshua's gaze shifted to her ringless finger.

Without hesitation, he gently took her hand in his own, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and tenderness.

"Your ring—" Joshua began, his voice catching in his throat as he beheld the contents of the velvety box. Inside lay a ring and bracelet, delicate and gleaming.

"I made these," Y/n revealed, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability. She settled back into her chair, carefully placing the silver jewelry on the table.

Joshua's gaze remained fixed on the pieces, his heart pounding in his chest. He noticed that his name was engraved on both the ring and bracelet. Y/n's words tugged at his emotions, each syllable laced with the weight of untold feelings. "I was going to give these to you before your flight. But I couldn't make it; my parents were fighting that morning," she confessed, her voice carrying a mixture of regret and longing.

As he looked at Y/n, then back to the jewelry, his breath seemed to catch in his throat. The significance of the moment weighed heavily on him.

Y/n produced a necklace, its centerpiece a ring that had adorned her middle finger for all these years. "Mine has your name on it too. I meant to engrave my own, but for some reason, I etched yours," she shared, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

"It's crazy, isn't it? That I cared for you so much, Josh," Y/n finally confessed, her eyes meeting his, a blend of hope and apprehension in their depths.

"I liked you a lot, and i might still."

The weight of Y/n's confession hung in the air, her words barely more than a mumble. Yet, they carried a profound weight, echoing through the space between them.

In that moment, Joshua finally comprehended that his feelings were not one-sided. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth he hadn't dared to believe. He stood there, looking at Y/n, his heart pounding in his chest. For the first time, the enormity of the situation washed over him, leaving him feeling vulnerable and exposed. He had been carrying this sentiment for so long, never imagining that it might be returned. A sense of humility settled upon him, a realization that he had underestimated the depth of Y/n's emotions. He felt like a fool, sitting there in front of her, unable to find the right words to express the tumultuous storm of feelings coursing through him.

Under the tranquil embrace of the night, with the park as their silent witness, Joshua's voice carried a weight that only a decade of silent longing could hold.

"Y/n," he spoke, his words deliberate and infused with a vulnerability that had been buried deep for far too long. "Tonight, hearing your words... it's like a floodgate has burst open within me."

Turning to face her, he held her gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes. "For more than decade, I've carried this in my heart. From the very beginning, you captured my soul in a way I never thought possible. You've been my sanctuary, the person I've turned to in my darkest hours, even from across the ocean."

The sincerity in his voice was palpable, each word a testament to the depth of his emotions. "I was so afraid of losing you that I couldn't find the courage to say anything. But now, knowing that you feel... something for me too, it's like a dream come true."

"I like you a lot. No, i've been in love with you, Y/n."

The air hung heavy with anticipation, the moment pregnant with significance. Joshua's heart raced, every beat a testament to the years of yearning he had endured. With bated breath, he waited for Y/n's response, hoping beyond hope that the feelings he had nurtured in secret for a decade would find their rightful place in the open.

*

On the day of Mingyu's wedding, the venue was bathed in a warm, golden light, casting a radiant glow on the beaming couple. Mingyu, standing tall in his tuxedo, took the mic with a mixture of excitement and nervousness in his eyes. The room fell into a hushed anticipation as he cleared his throat, preparing to address the gathered guests.

"Thank you all for being here today," he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "Today is a day of celebration, not only for me and Nari, but for the bonds that tie families together."

Mingyu continued his speech. As he spoke, Mingyu's gaze drifted to Y/n, his older sister, seated among the guests. Her eyes shimmered with unspoken pride and affection, a silent affirmation of their shared journey.

He continued, his voice carrying a note of gratitude, "Today, I stand here as a man about to embark on a new chapter of my life. And I owe so much of who I am to the incredible woman who has always been there for me, through thick and thin."

Turning towards Y/n, Mingyu's voice softened with sincerity. "To my sister, Y/n, you've been my rock, my confidante, and my source of endless support. You've guided me, protected me, and loved me unconditionally. Today, I want to take a moment to thank you, not only for being an amazing sister, but for being an incredible friend."

A swell of applause and affectionate murmurs filled the room, a testament to the love that emanated from this tight-knit family. Mingyu's words had touched the hearts of everyone present, leaving an indelible mark on this special day.

The wedding ceremony unfolded like a dream, an atmosphere of pure happiness enveloping the guests. Mingyu, the groom, approached his sister, Y/n, a vision in her lace gown, diligently overseeing the desserts from her bakery. He enveloped her in a warm embrace, their connection palpable even in the midst of the celebration. He pulled back, Y/n teasingly echoing Mingyu's earlier words, "Your confidante, huh?" A playful eye-roll followed, a testament to their easy camaraderie.

Y/n couldn't help but let out a joyful laugh, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Well, I had to make a good impression on my new in-laws, didn't I? Let them know they're getting a true family man," he quipped in a conspiratorial whisper. Joshua, standing alongside them, couldn't contain his own chuckle at their banter.

"Thanks for coming, hyung," Mingyu expressed his gratitude, pulling Joshua into a heartfelt hug. Joshua extending his warmest congratulations.

A mischievous gleam danced in Joshua's eyes as he added, "For someone who's kept my girlfriend busy all month, you sure seem appreciative." His words were laced with playful sarcasm, a nod to the last-minute dessert changes that had kept Y/n on her toes.

Mingyu's expression softened, a touch of remorse etching his features. "I'm sorry, hyung. I forgot how much this meant to you. I promise, after this, I won't meddle anymore," he vowed, signing to the new relationship between his sister and Joshua that had been silent for over a decade.

As the joyous celebration continued, a voice calling Joshua's name interrupted their lively conversation. Turning, their attention was drawn to a woman standing behind them. Joshua recognized her as one of his colleagues from the company, and he extended his hand in greeting.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Joshua remarked, a pleasant surprise lacing his voice.

The woman nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "Nari is my junior from college," she explained, her eyes keenly observing the dynamic between Joshua and Y/n.

It wasn't lost on Joshua that his hand lingered at Y/n's waist. Suddenly, the realization struck him, and he made the introduction with a touch of pride, "Oh, please meet my girlfriend, Y/n. Those croquembouche were made by her." The swell of pride in his voice resonated with a warmth that emanated from him.

Mingyu, standing beside them, nodded appreciatively and offered a warm smile, extending his gratitude to the woman for joining them in the celebration.

The woman's words hung in the air, a statement that stirred a shift in the atmosphere. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Mr. Hong," she reiterated, her tone carrying a hint of surprise. Before Joshua could respond, Mingyu swooped in, feigning hurt over Joshua's apparent secrecy.

"Hyung, really? You've been keeping your relationship with my sister under wraps from everyone? Noona, you deserve someone who'll shout your worth from the rooftops!" Mingyu playfully chided, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. Y/n simply smiled, recognizing her brother's penchant for theatrics.

Joshua let out a sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement tingeing his voice. "I kept everything hidden," he confessed, a touch of irritation coloring his words. Yet, his smile only grew, his hold on Y/n's waist tightening. It was a silent declaration, an unspoken testament to the depth of his feelings for her, a sentiment that had been quietly growing within him. The unspoken connection between them, now brought to light, added a layer of intimacy to the moment, making it all the more special.

*

A fresh morning light bathed the room, infusing it with a sense of energy and possibility. Joshua entered, a warm smile gracing his features, bearing a circle of coffee and delectable desserts for the ladies gathered at the tables. Their eyes lit up with gratitude as they received the treats, a tangible token of appreciation for their successful drama project.

"Morning, ladies. I heard the drama project was a hit. Here's my treat," Joshua announced, his voice carrying a touch of genuine warmth.

As they settled into their seats, one of them couldn't help but voice the rumor swirling in the office. "Is it true, Mr. Hong?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Joshua's smile remained steadfast, a hint of intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "What rumor?" he playfully deflected, his tone light.

"That you're in a relationship? There's a screenshot of your Instagram Story with a woman on the company community web," another woman eagerly elaborated, her excitement palpable.

Joshua let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. With an air of showmanship, he unveiled the box of delectable desserts, their intricate designs and inviting aromas captivating their attention. "They look amazing, right?" he asked, a note of pride coloring his voice.

"These are from Seongsu-dong, just a block away from a kindergarten. The shop's called Sweeties. If you ever want to meet my girlfriend, that's the place to go. Please enjoy," Joshua shared, his words imbued with a touch of playfulness and sincerity. With a final warm goodbye, he left the group of women officers, their smiles and laughter lingering in the air. The morning continued, infused with a sense of camaraderie and shared enjoyment.

The end.

[22ayla19]

Sunday x Reader

Marriage of convenience

I arrived in Penaconia to relax with my sister, her husband and their daughter, my niece. Being the head of one of the most famous corporations, I took upon myself all the expenses of my vacation to Penaconia. I really wanted to please my loved ones with a vacation in a place like Penaconia, but who knew that I would almost meet death during this vacation...

The mercenaries followed us even to the Hotel of Dreams. Unfortunately, the sister and her husband died protecting their daughter, but... But these bastards did not even spare the child!

I can understand when an adult is killed. No matter how you look at it, an adult will always have sins that he will hide, but this is a child! The little angel that my sister has been waiting for so long! What did this little angel do wrong?!

I would have died too if the hotel staff hadn’t found me. They provided first aid to me and tried to save my niece, but it was all to no avail. She died...

While I was in the hospital, Sunday himself from the Family visited me. It’s understandable why; No matter how you look at it, this is a case of greatly affecting the reputation of the Hotel, but to be honest, it doesn’t matter to me, I just want the heads of those mercenaries and the customer who so wanted my death and the death of my family.

- Please accept my condolences, Lady (Y/N). We are able to compensate financially for the damage, but it seems to me that you will not accept it...

- You are not to blame for what happened. I myself should have been more careful, because I have many enemies, but who could have thought that these scum would kill even an innocent child!... - anger stupefied me. I wanted the death of these bastards and guessed who it could be, I was ready to rush into them right now and strangle them.

- Please, lady (Y/N), pull yourself together. I understand your anger, people like this shouldn’t live anyway. Now the best option would be to lie low and prepare a plan to expose your enemies. They probably think that you, as the head of your corporation, are already dead, so why not play on their self-confidence? As the head of the Family, I will help you and provide everything to help you,- Sunday’s words carried weight. I really need to pull myself together, and no one knew about my trip except my deputy, which means he is involved in this.

I had no choice but to accept Sunday's offer. I'm not in the best situation right now and I need any help I can get. I see what a hypocrite he is, looking for benefit from this situation, but to be honest, I don’t care. I already have nothing to lose, my hands are free from the shackles of family and nothing stops me.

With the help of Sunday, the right people found out about my “death,” which helped me recover physically and find out that my deputy was to blame for this whole situation. So I was right... All that remains is to find evidence of his guilt and then my revenge will be accomplished.

- Milady, I apologize if I disturbed you, but I would like to offer you a deal. I hope you don't mind? - again that nasty fake smile.

- I have nothing to lose anymore. So talk about your proposals.

- You see, my friends and parents really want me to get married, but to be honest, I don’t want it. Since your revenge will soon be accomplished, you will be able to return your corporation, but the position will be very precarious after what happened. I would like to offer you an arranged marriage where you will receive support from the Family and I will get rid of all the talk about marriage.

The offer is more than good, because I really need support and yet, looking at it, you can understand that he is up to something. Well, it doesn’t concern me, if he wants to get my corporation through a marriage of convenience, then you’re welcome. I don’t even want to work after everything that happened.

A couple of months later, we found the necessary documents about who killed my relatives and that they tried to frame me. You should have seen the face of these scum when you saw me alive. It’s a joy for the soul to see how they lost everything in one moment, just like I once lost everyone.

After the trial, Sunday and I got married. I had to forcefully squeeze out my emotions so as not to ruin the event with my indifference. My corporation was under the wing of the Family, received the necessary support and I felt calmer, just like Sunday. He was no longer pestered with questions about marriage; now he is a family man himself.

Children from this marriage... To be honest, this topic is quite painful for me, after everything that happened. No matter how you look at it, there is no love in our marriage. We respect each other, but this is not love. The child was not conceived out of love, he may be injured in the future, but I don’t want that.

- What are you thinking about, my wife? - It’s disgusting to hear something like that from his lips, but I need to get used to living with him until I’m old.

- About children. Even though this is an arranged marriage, you will need an heir, right?

- Of course, an heir for organizations like the Family, this goes without saying, but until you feel better morally, I will not insist on children. After all, you will carry the pregnancy and you will also have to endure all the hardships of pregnancy. Let's put this topic aside for now.

It was unexpected...

In fact, in many arranged marriages, children do not grow up in love. They were literally conceived by force. In such marriages, men do not even think about how difficult it is for a woman during pregnancy. Simple respect and understanding that it would really be difficult for me during pregnancy was for me the beginning of respect for such a person as Sunday.

Yes, he is still a hypocrite, but at least he respects my interests and consults my opinion. I’m his wife, even though it’s under contract, but I’m still his main priority. This was a revelation to me, because I thought Sunday was arrogant and a hypocrite.

After a couple of years, I was able to let go of deceased loved ones and became a trusted person in Penaconia. Even if it was an arranged marriage, there were many people who did not trust me, but after a while I corrected this situation. Resurrection and I have a close relationship, we respect each other, but there is no love as such. The topic of children was never raised, but my heart feels that this conversation is not far off.

An heir is needed not only for the Family, but also for my corporation. It's only a matter of time before I get pregnant, but preferably soon, because there are already unpleasant rumors going around.

- Wife, why were you so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice me? - Sunday apparently just returned from work, since I didn’t notice his presence.

- Yes, I just remembered some unpleasant gossip, nothing like that.

- Is this a coincidence, not those rumors that you are still not pregnant?

- Still, I heard... - the conversation, of course, had to begin sometime, but not on such a note...

- It’s hard not to pay attention to them when they strive to pay attention. Of course, I wanted to talk to you about this topic, but I didn’t think it would be on such an unpleasant note, - sitting next to me on the sofa, his expression showed dissatisfaction. He didn't like the gossip about our marriage. It was clear that some wanted our divorce.

- It’s worth starting to think about conceiving a child, isn’t it? - we did not look into each other’s eyes, each looked at the ceiling and thought about his own. And although I did not receive an answer, but by the way Sunday’s wings began to twitch, one could assume that he agreed with me, - Will you fulfill one of my wishes?

- What? - Apparently, I was taken by surprise by Sunday. Until today, I have never asked him for anything, let alone desire, - Yes, of course...

- When the baby is born, please give him all your parental love. Both my sister and I were unwanted children. The father needed a son to be the heir, and the mother hated us. I literally replaced my sister's mother. I can live in an arranged marriage, but I cannot live with a person who will hate his child. I just ask... Love our future child just like I do...

And although Sunday himself should have gotten to the bottom of my past, because I didn’t tell him, such a desire came as a shock to him.

- I promise. I will do everything possible to ensure that our child grows up in love.

[bratzforchris]

hi! can I have fluffy smut w/ johnnie please?! like similar to the the more feminine reader headcanons where they’re wearing a new pink set and tease him while he’s streaming or something!? thank you! love all ur content btw! 🖤🤍

Tease

Summary: Dropping lunch off at Johnnie's desk results in much more than just a quick hug and a kiss

Pairing: CEO!Johnnie x feminine reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), semi public sex (?), face fucking, hair pulling, quickie

Word Count: 923

A/N: I'm sorry this request took so long to get out, anon, but I hope it's worth the wait! Also, I know I strayed from the prompt a tad, but I saw this photo of Johnnie and couldn't resist :p Enjoy!!

It was a well known fact that your boyfriend, Johnnie, was one of the biggest entertainment CEOs in Los Angeles. Having originally started out as a YouTuber himself, he had ended up coming up with the idea of creating a talent agency specifically for YouTubers, which had led to an enormous company empire that quickly had him wrapped up in all kinds of company calls, business meetings, and the like. Managing famous influencers such as Tarayummy, Larray, and the Sturniolo Triplets was never easy work by any means, but you and Johnnie both always put in the effort to make sure that you two got time together for your relationship. 

Like now for example. You were riding in the private, glass elevator of the corporation’s building to the top floor, in which Johnnie’s private office was. Despite keeping your relationship relatively private and quiet, you were known throughout the company as Johnnie’s girlfriend and the secretary on the ground floor had seamlessly shooed you into the CEO’s private elevator. You stepped out onto Johnnie’s floor, clutching the takeout bag in your hand tighter. Your boyfriend had a bad habit of forgetting to pack lunch or eat when he was wrapped up at work, so you had decided to bring him lunch from his favorite cafe as both a way to see him and get a quick ‘I love you’ and as a way to make sure he was staying healthy. 

You stepped into his private hallway, adjusting your half-shoulder shirt. Your lacy, pink bra peeked out from underneath the fabric, adding a touch of brightness to the modern, gray and white hallway. You walked towards the grand door that had a silver plaque reading ‘Guilbert’ on it. You knocked quickly, calling out. “It’s me, hun.”

Within a few seconds, Johnnie had opened the door, a tired smile on his face. “I wasn’t expecting you today, my love.”

“I thought I’d bring you lunch,” You smiled, stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. “I know how you can get when you’re busy.” You said gently, kissing his cheek and setting the takeout bag on his desk. 

Johnnie looked you up and down as he sat back down in his chair, running his hands through his hair. “Thank you, baby, but I think this,” he paused to gesture at your flowy, white shirt, pink bra, and pink miniskirt. “Is a much better gift.” 

You blushed, sitting down on his lap. “Whatcha working on?”

Your boyfriend sighed, clearing some papers off his desk and refreshing his computer. “A lot. Everyone seems to be wanting to change their business model right now.” he sighed. 

You pouted, not liking how Johnnie’s face was creased with stress, or how rigid his muscles were with anxiety. “I’m sorry, baby.” You hummed softly, not-so-secretly adjusting yourself on his lap. 

Johnnie let out an involuntary moan as he looked at you, blue eyes growing wide with arousal at the way you were practically teasing him with that bra strap and your girly little outfit. He held your hips as his boner grew, whimpering softly. 

“I have a meeting in fifteen.” he groaned, rather frustrated that he didn’t have all the time in the world to hike that little skirt up and bend you over his desk. 

“That’s enough time for me.” You smiled sweetly, looking up at him with doe eyes as you slid off his lap. 

You began to undo Johnnie’s belt and trousers, making quick work of getting his pants off. By the time you were done, his dick had sprung free and was already throbbing with arousal, the tip glistening with pre cum. You began to fist him softly with one hand, upping the teasing before you began to slide your tongue across his tip. Johnnie moaned, thrusting his hips forward and tangling his hands in your hair, eager for your pretty little mouth to relieve his stress. 

As you took all of him into your mouth, Johnnie moaned when his tip hit the back of your throat. He began to pull your hair as you made him feel good, your head bobbing as you sucked and licked his cock. Johnnie thought you looked absolutely adorable with your angelic looks and big eyes looking at him as you worked him. The familiar feeling of orgasm built in his stomach and he moaned, thrusting himself towards your face again and again. 

It wasn’t long before he came, throwing his head back with a loud grunt as thick, white ropes of cum shot into your mouth and down your throat. You pulled off Johnnie’s cock with a pop, smiling as you swallowed and wiped your mouth. “Feeling less stressed now?” You asked with a giggle. 

Johnnie leaned forward to kiss your forehead, simultaneously fixing his pants and hair, seeing as how the clock said he had three minutes until his meeting. “A lot less stressed,” he smiled softly. “You’re the best, darling.”

You blushed under the praise, straightening your own clothes. “I really love you, you know that? And I’m sorry for teasing you with my outfit.” You giggled. 

“I’m sure you are,” Johnnie rolled his eyes playfully, pinching your ass. “I love you, baby. Thank you for the food.”

You bid Johnnie a goodbye as he took the phone call for his meeting. As you stepped out into the hallway once again, you began to plot ways to make Johnnie feel even less stressed once he got home. In fact, you were never truly done teasing him. 

[ddejavvu]

mv Monday!!!!

Do you think you could write a mall!au where reader works at like a women’s store (think Victoria’s Secret or aerie type) but mall employee!sirius/remus come in all the time to flirt with her? I don’t have a pref for either boy, whatever you feel like!!! 🫶🫶🫶

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

It's 1 PM on a Thursday, so you're not surprised that the only people in your store are Lupin and Black. They come more often than you do, you're fairly certain, and they don't work with you.

"Boys," You drawl, watching their pathetic attempt to seem casual wandering amongst, "If you're not here to buy something, you know I have to ask you to leave."

Both men turn, once more feigning coy. Remus reaches for a pair of panties beside him without looking, and Sirius brings up the rear as he approaches your counter.

"Just these," Sirius grins, and Remus sets the lacy underwear in front of you, price tag facing up and ready to be scanned.

You chew the inside of your cheek; you should challenge them. You should stop them in their tracks, refuse to sell them the underwear, because you know they're only buying it to stay in the store. They're relentless, and although their persistence pleases you, you're determined to get them to crack. They won't admit that they're pursuing you, but you're tired of the game they're playing; you want to win.

Unfortunately, you can't just deny them the sale. You don't have good reason, not reason enough for corporate, and their rules are that you're allowed to refuse service only on pre-approved grounds.

Horniness is not one of them, so you scan the panties with a tinny beep.

"$18.39." You wait for them to blanch, to back down because they hadn't expected to get this far, and $20 is more than they're willing to pay to flirt.

Instead, "Can we have that gift-wrapped, dove?"

You try to tamp down the burning of your cheeks at Remus's words, watching as he swipes his card when prompted. The payment goes through, and you snag tissue paper from under the counter, carefully folding the panties in on themselves until you can package them in a neat square. You set them gently into a pink striped bag, one that holds its stiff shape as you tug at the black strings, and pass it over the counter, letting Lupin take it from your outstretched fingers.

"Thanks." Sirius grins, and Remus pawns the bag off onto him. You wait for them to leave, to take their daily dose of teasing and head back to their record store, but instead Sirius reaches out, setting the bag back onto the counter.

"Gotta present for you, angel." Sirius grins, "Wanna try 'em on? Just to make sure they fit, and all."

Your stomach tries migrating to your feet. You're surprised by their bold moves, they're usually more lazily flirtatious. Now they're outright brazen, and you're at a loss for words.

Remus sees your brain malfunctioning, and he considers that it might be for the wrong reasons. He grabs hold of Sirius's elbow, "If you're uncomfortable-"

But you don't let him finish, quickly shaking off your momentary shock.

"Come on, you two," You hop the counter, landing tantalizingly close to them before they have the chance to stumble backwards. You take a hold of each of their hands, motioning for Sirius to grab the gift bag with a tilt of your chin towards the pink plastic.

"Dressing rooms are vacant. I can manage a fifteen minute break," You start towards the stalls on the opposite wall of the store, "That's seven minutes for each of you, and one for cleanup. Don't be loud." You round on them just before you reach the dressing rooms, narrowing your eyes at their pleasantly surprised expressions, "If you get me fired we can't ever do this again."

[vidavalor]

Hi! I loooove your blog. What's an underrated GO moment that you like?

Hi! Thank you. :) Nice to meet you. I have green tea and raspberry scones for snacks today as I just got back from the bakery. *sets up plates*

You know what little scene I love? I love the bit where Shax comes to the bookshop when Aziraphale is in Edinburgh and, in the middle of threatening Crowley, asks him how to fix the hot water boiler in the apartment. It's a little moment and funny in your first pass watching it but it plays even better on rewatch and once you think about it a little beyond just the initial laugh.

In the attack on the bookshop, we see that Shax is one of those demons that is like the angels in that she thinks of food as human and beneath her. She makes fun of Aziraphale for his human hungers-- for food, for Crowley (who isn't in the bookshop when she's saying this stuff.) So, she's not exactly teaching herself to become a gourmet chef in that apartment now that she's on Earth. She doesn't cook and she doesn't do dishes, really, but... she needs the hot water working badly enough that she's willing to swallow her pride and ask Crowley for help in fixing it, which means her human indulgences are hot showers and honestly? If I'd spent millennia in Hell and got to escape to Crowley's place in Mayfair, you couldn't drag me for a hundred years from whatever tropical rainforest paradise shower Crowley had in that place lol so I can't really blame her. Not to mention that there's not exactly a lot of privacy in Hell, if ya feel me? A lady demon who has finally escaped topside of the fiery pits of Hell might be reluctant to admit it but she might have found one or two things about having a human corporation are not completely horrible... maybe so not completely horrible enough that she's desperate enough to go to the being who has not taught her what Google is for his own amusement for assistance with getting that hot water boiler operational again as soon as is demonically possible lol. (Crowley's canonically excellent taste in showerheads is absolutely the most top of mind meta you're going to find today, I know lol.)

Anyway, this means that Shax interrupted Crowley's afternoon of Operation Lovebirds: Shop Lesbian Vavoom to ask him to make it rain for her in the apartment.

He really hasn't done this much weather in ages.

It's also funny to me that the hot water boiler has rebelled against Shax by giving her two yellow lights (Crowley's eyes) and the solution for it, according to black-clad, silver necklace Crowley, is to turn a black tab on a silver loop. Whether Crowley's apartment is just in revolt against Shax or whether we're poking fun at the fact that Shax appears to have a little thing for Crowley or both, it's amusing.

Not to mention that Crowley's little lesson in locating the "hot water boiler tab" involves finger movements the likes of which have never been used to fix a hot water boiler in all our days lol. Crowley's a free-thinking Cupid. You gotta vavoom with your own damn self sometimes-- he gets it, girl. He's all the flavors of Baskin Robbins, Shax, and he's been on Earth for ages. He knows what he's doing. Take notes lol. If you find the black tab on the silver loop, it'll turn the hot water back on and then if you follow his non-verbal instructions here...

Besides the humor, though, this little moment is also happening in the segment of the story in which Crowley and Gabriel have been puzzling out the origins of gravity together. The heaviness of watching Crowley unable to remember building the universe is balanced a bit here, when they remind us through this scene in which he appears to be explaining something he built to fix his problematic hot water boiler that his curiosity and his need to take things apart to see how they work are not things that can be taken from him and that he rebuilds by literally rebuilding things.

(Aziraphale, we all know you've been breaking things around the bookshop for the last two hundred years and then calling Crowley and telling him that you couldn't possibly use another frivolous miracle to fix it or Gabriel will send you another strongly-worded note and would he please come over... and yes, it is a pipe under the sink again, how did he know? lol)