#please do actually read the rules post

[woodblxssomcrowned]

@imaginarianisms Traditional Clan garb + MMMMMMMM the senju-uchiha kids & the senju-uzumaki kids mayhaps??

meme (Please read meme instructions)

A bunch of sort-of Senju in Senju hakama.

It is sketchy and messy and not my best work by any means because I feared that if I put more time into it I would get overwhelmed and never finish it at all :')

I hope you like it tho

[flayerlinked-archived]

if 👏 you 👏 follow 👏 anyone 👏 on 👏 my 👏 dni 👏 list 👏 do 👏 NOT 👏 FOLLOW 👏 ME 👏

[cheyenneosis]

mfs stop posting AI images and mere photoshops on the vinebooru challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)

[jessica-problems]

Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D" Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page. So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists. The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of. People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up. (if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.) I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition. For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:

A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?" B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead" A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!" B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that." A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own" And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say. From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?" B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal." A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!" B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it." A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."

--- Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?" B: "uhhh, just play chess?" A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!" B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games." A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!" ---

So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot. And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably. If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.

If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch. Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up. So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.

[lucyandthepen]

salted caramel | lmh ( m )

you hadn’t been aware that mark’s jealousy followed the rules of baseball — three strikes, and he snaps?

read the first part here!

pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader verse: college!au rating: r warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mc’s stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this “plot” to get to where it gets word count: 20.3k

a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days… i’m so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if it’s actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbeta’d but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope it’s something that you can enjoy, and i couldn’t pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!

if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!

You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side — or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.

You can’t really help it; he’s still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just can’t do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Mark’s aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, you’d easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you don’t think there’s any pressing need to remind him — not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. You’re certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head — something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

It also should be unmistakably clear that you’re head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, he’s got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) — but if he doesn’t notice then, you can’t hold it against him; Mark’s mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.

He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure you’re there right as he gets out — a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Lee’s admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, you’d correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. You’re Mark Lee’s girlfriend.

It’s a fact you don’t mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart — boyfriend — his eyes still widen, like he’s hearing it for the first time. It’s cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesn’t believe you.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter; you’ll just keep telling him.

You don’t have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish he’d look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.

However, hanging out with him doesn’t always mean you’re just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and you’ve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.

The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that you’d only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. He’s supremely outgoing, a trait you can’t say you mind, but there’s an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.

The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that they’ve come to know you as that girl Mark didn’t teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something you’ve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but you’re the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.

Again, you don’t mind it; new people aren’t an issue to you, and you’re also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways they’re alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, you’ve come to learn, through the conversations you’ve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know they’re all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment there’s even a spark of dissent from one person — and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.

Today is no exception.

“Dude, you’re crazy,” Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, he’s the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latter’s will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. “The ninth was the worst, hands down.”

“Art and rendering were so solid.” Donghyuck raises a finger, and you’re not sure if it’s to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You don’t want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latter’s face to speak up. You presume that’s why everyone else isn’t stopping them — or maybe they’re just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. “Intuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?”

“Depth? Do you even hear yourself right now?” Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. “What kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. And—”

“There’s a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.”

“The open world was a disaster,” Chenle plows on. “It was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. It’s quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. That’s exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.”

“I thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.”

It’s a singularly amusing sight — Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like he’s waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going ‘I actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,’ but that just goes unnoticed by either party.

“You once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldn’t scale. Don’t say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.”

“Unlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. That’s also probably why some people — not naming names — just can’t appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.”

Donghyuck doesn’t even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.

“You’re fucking impossible!”

“Can you guys relax?” Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. “You’re making a scene over a dead game franchise.”

“It’s not dead; they’re on hiatus,” both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before he’s fully folded his arms across his chest.

Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. You’re thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation — especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if he’s trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuck’s opinion is ‘borne of ignorance.’ When they’re all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the barista’s station, where he’s busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid that’s already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.

The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and he’s got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they don’t catch any stains. You’re pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, he’s aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. You’d bet a month’s allowance he’s doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.

And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like there’s nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.

You smile back, but when he turns away to take someone’s order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.

Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.

The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you don’t have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.

“Got anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?”

“What?” Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. You’re sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but you’re just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. “Uh — no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about… sorry, what were you guys talking about again?”

“See, that’s how normal people act,” Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. “Instead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” You’re quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. “I’m sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.”

“And if you had, I’m sure you’d have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,” Chenle sniffs, but he’s looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, who’s still ignoring him, save for the fact that he’s now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesn’t feel like such a great upgrade).

“Nah, she’d be on my side. ___________ looks like she’d appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?”

“Uh…” you say smartly.

“Man, shut up.” Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. “Got me so pissed off I need to pee now.”

You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts — which you don’t — Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. It’s only when he’s out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.

“Actually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isn’t it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?”

“To be honest, I’ve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,” you admit, and even though you’re not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. “Too bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or I’d weigh in, too.”

“Not a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?”

“No one is, Hyuck,” Jeno snorts, shaking his head. “You two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.”

“Fair. I nurture a love for old franchises.” Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how he’s managed to tick off one of his most important ‘to-do’ points of the day. “So what’s your poison, ___________?”

“What’s that mean?”

“You a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good ol’ fashioned LoL?”

“I honestly don’t have the hand-eye coordination to play,” you confess. “I know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person would’ve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didn’t throw me out.”

“She even tries to play with him,” Donghyuck whistles lowly. “Dude, how’d Mark get a chick like you?”

“Meaning?”

“You’re way too good for that dope.” His laugh is light and good-natured. “Never thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl — which he’s called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but… I get it. Doesn’t make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.”

“Sorry to put you through that.” You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuck’s just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, who’s pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. “I guess it won’t help if I say your friend over there’s my dream guy.”

“It absolutely will not,” Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. “But tell you what — if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, I’ll find you someone else more your speed.”

“No thanks,” you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. “More than that, I’d just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.”

“We can help you with that too,” Jisung volunteers. “Jeno taught me the basics. I’m sure he can teach you too.”

“Yeah, and I’m guessing you’d be a better student than mister “how come you didn’t tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myself” over here,” Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.

“I’m pretty good at sneak attacks myself.” Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. “We’ll take care of you. Mark won’t know what hit him next time.”

“What’s happening to me next time?”

You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.

“We were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here who’s just too nice to turn you down.” Donghyuck lies like it’s second nature; you wonder if that’s a Finance major thing or just a him thing.

“And you’re offering that to someone who didn’t ask for it?” Mark snorts, nudging Chenle’s bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.

“She’s so caught up in your sticky little web that she can’t struggle against you.” Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. “I’ll save you, so don’t worry. Mark can’t keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, I’ll come a-running to free you.”

There’s a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuck’s as quick to let go as he is to hang on.

“We were just talking about PUBG,” you correct, and Mark’s eyes snap to you. “I was asking for help — you know, so I won’t drag you down the next time I join in?”

“I don’t mind whatever you do in-game.” He’s quick to comfort you, even if you don’t actually need it, but it feels warm and cold “I’m just glad you wanna try it with me.”

“No, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you don’t have to keep avenging me after five minutes,” you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you don’t realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.

“Then I’ll teach you next time.”

“No, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, I’ll even beat you.” You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. “Uh… I can beat him, can’t I?”

“If you play different teams, yeah,” he confirms. “Trust me. I’ll help you kick his ass.”

“Or we’ll both kick yours,” Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. He’s massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You don’t miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuck’s face nor the way he mouths ‘sap’ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.

“Yo, hotpot at seven? Renjun’s asking,” Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. “Jaemin can’t make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.”

“I’m down,” Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenle’s eyes shoot heavenward, like he’s already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.

“Can’t,” Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. “Pre-test tomorrow.”

“Dude, it’s a pre-test,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to study if they’re just testing how much you know before studying.”

“Gotta study all the same.”

“I gotta pass too,” Jisung looks actually apologetic. “I promised my mom I’d help her move some stuff to my aunt’s place tonight.”

“Boring,” Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. “Lovebirds?”

“Rain check,” Mark shakes his head. “Family dinner. My brother’s home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us can’t make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesn’t have study group either.”

“If that’s even what that weirdo’s doing,” Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. “Fine; I’ll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I can’t coordinate in six different private chats ever again.”

“You can put my name down already,” Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. “Two names, actually.”

“I’m good on Monday too. When we see each other again, I’ll bring some prospects for you to sift through,” Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. “Cool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.”

“I’ll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,” you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.

“How the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?”

“I’m pretty sure she once told me I… what did you say?” Mark glances at you amusedly. “I had some moves, I guess.”

“You mean stutter and blush in her presence?” Donghyuck can’t decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. “And that won you over?”

“Most powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,” you shrug, grinning. “Had me from the first ‘um,’ and he’s had me ever since.”

“You lucky son of a bitch,” Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Mark’s face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.

The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just aren’t quick enough to read the signs, as usual.

But in your defense (again), it hadn’t felt all that significant.

“Fuck, this is spicy,” Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle that’s broken by a laugh that’s not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe he’s just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.

Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenle’s part; he’d even texted you just to make sure he’d gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you can’t help but wonder if he’s not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.

“That’s why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,” Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaemin’s messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if that’s actually impossible. “You’ve got super mala breath now.”

“Don’t know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,” Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.

It’s nice, you think, that Mark’s friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes they’ve made at his expense, they’ve been consistently open to having you around. You’re not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.

They’re even louder outside Starbucks, you’ve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Mark’s friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when they’re already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and there’s a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.

Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you can’t help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that you’d been so drawn to him, but they just don’t know that even they’re victims of Mark’s natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.

But even when he’s mostly distracted by conversation, there’s a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if you’d adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (you’d always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Mark’s sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where they’ve rolled under the table, making sure you’re bump-free when you resurface.

And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what he’s doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder — you’d even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjun’s alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like he’s worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that he’ll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.

But it’s hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until there’s just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly it’s much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like he’s trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach — his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you can’t really decipher. Like he’s writing a message just for you.

It makes you feel like no matter what he’s doing, a part of his mind is always on you.

“You guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think it’s called,” Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isn’t swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. “I think it’s coming out in a week or two.”

“I’d be okay with it,” Renjun shrugs, although he doesn’t look enthused. “Kind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but I’m down if you all are.”

A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesn’t immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.

“If I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,” you warn. “Remember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.”

He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. “Yeah — we’ll pass, I think.”

“Scaredy-cat,” Donghyuck teases, and you’re surprised that Mark doesn’t come to his own defense. There’s something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose there’s also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.

“Actually, I’m the one who can’t handle it well,” you smile in apology. “Sorry. I don’t have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.”

“In short, you don’t want Mark to see you scream and cry,” Chenle deduces. You can’t even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.

“Bingo.”

“Well, we can solve the problem,” Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention for no good reason. “__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he won’t see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.”

“Thanks for the offer,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But it’s not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.”

“It is to me,” Donghyuck winks, and you feel Mark’s hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like he’s trying to make a fist but can’t quite get to that point out of personal restraint. “Or better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you won’t be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions you’re going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? It’s a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.”

You’ve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers aren’t just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although it’s hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.

“Should we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?” You ride along with the joke.

“No way. You’re the one calling the shots.” Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. “Okay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; who’s got the better punches?”

You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you can’t really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Mark’s palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.

“It’s a complete knock-out,” you finally announce, grinning. “Championship belt goes to Mark.”

“Man, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, I’d propose in a day, max,” Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.

“Man must’ve saved a nation or something in his past life,” Donghyuck grimaces. “No way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey — got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe I’ll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.”

“I would actually deck you, so don’t even try it,” Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. You’re flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesn’t often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.

The bill’s split eight ways, but Mark’s fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; it’s one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor — landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.

You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.

The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommate’s in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; you’ve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. You’re not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Mark’s friends, it’s even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.

Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; it’s cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Mark’s form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.

A part of you wonders if you’ll be able to do this — lean in, flush against him — when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize you’re more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.

“Sorry,” Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. “Isn’t hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?”

You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. “Not really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are — and how big the group is. It’s usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and they’re definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.”

“Yeji and Jisu,” he echoes. “Your best friends. I haven’t met them yet, have I?”

“Not yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we can’t get our schedules to align right just yet.” Your hip collides gently with his. “Should I let you, though?”

“One day… I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.”

“I’ll tell them, then. They want to meet you.” You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper that’s completely unnecessary. “They want to know if you’re as cute as you look in your pictures.”

Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. “How do they know what my pictures look like?”

“I stalked your Instagram and showed them,” you answer simply. He throws you a funny look that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “They liked that one with the Spider-man costume.”

“Please don’t,” he groans, passing a hand over his face. “I should have taken that down, but I didn’t think anyone would care.”

“Why? I like it.” Your hand’s the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.

“I can’t ever understand what’s going through your head,” he chuckles, and you think it’s unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. “You saw that and still wanted to date me?”

“Mark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. It’s kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.”

You’re just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like you’re caught in motion.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”

“What?”

“I just look over at you and feel like it’s not real. Like you’re going to disappear, and I’m just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesn’t even know my name.” He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isn’t done talking. “And I’m going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you won’t ever feel that same way.”

“You know I’m right here, though, don’t you?” Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. “You can feel me. I’m here with you.”

Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you — a habit of avoidance you know he’s trying to correct. “Sometimes I have to wonder if they’re right.”

“If… who’s right?”

“Them.” He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. “The guys. You know — when they ask me how I got a girl like you… the truth is, I don’t even really know. They can’t believe it, and it’s so crazy to me that I still sometimes can’t myself. So I start wondering if—”

You don’t let him finish this time; it’s rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what he’s about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you don’t create the same distance, and Mark’s hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.

“They’re wrong,” you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. “So stop wondering and just be with me.”

A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, he’s nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.

“Next time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, there’ll be consequences.”

“Are you threatening me?” His laugh is colored with incredulity.

“Yes.” Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. “Maybe I’ll ground you for a week, or something really childish.”

“I’d take it if you were with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. “You’d be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, I’ll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.”

“If that happens, promise me one thing, then.” He maneuvers your stance until you’re both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. “Don’t sit next to Donghyuck.”

“And let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.”

“No, really.” Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. “I don’t want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I don’t deserve you or that he’ll help you find someone better.”

“You know he’s just joking — and I’m just joking, right?”

“Just promise me.”

You pause, wondering if it’s in your best interest to tease him for whatever act he’s pulling, but there’s a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. He’s really waiting for something — an answer. The right answer, maybe.

“I promise,” you finally say, and you know you’ve said the correct thing when Mark’s lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like he’s sealing in your vow.

On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.

The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when you’re not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No — maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time you’d spent in there, he’d thought up yet another way to push Mark’s buttons. You just didn’t really know the exact minute he’d first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.

You don’t know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesn’t even get in trouble, let alone fail. You’d only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You don’t expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, you’d spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, you’d already come to realize that it doesn’t matter because he had only attended one lecture — the first one — thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyun’s handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.

Now that you think about it, that’s probably how he does it.

You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You can’t help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because you’d much rather do things that are important to you — like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like it’s the first time you’re saying something so sweet to him, except he’s definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Mark’s face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until he’s basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.

“You should really be more legible with your strokes.” He has the audacity to chastise you as if he’s the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.

“You should really come to class more often,” you bite back, although there’s no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if there’s a chance you’ll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.

“Would if I could.”

“You actually fucking can,” you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. “Can’t you just take a picture?”

“Nah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.”

“So take a picture and then write it down carefully.”

“With your ridiculous handwriting? I’d probably fail.”

“So come to class and write it yourself!”

Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but she’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence it’s hard to imagine you’d wanted to smack him two minutes ago.

“Jung Jaehyun,” the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well — and not in a great way. “I see you’re back in here after your probationary period.”

“Sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.” He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. “I promise I won’t get in your way again today.”

“And this one—” She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyun’s pointing at you and mouthing ‘this one’ with excessive mirth in his eyes. “Isn’t another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?”

Jaehyun says ‘we didn’t defile anything’ at the same time you say I’m going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you two,” Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.

“Please, Jaehyun,” you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. “Just hurry up. Release me.”

He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. “I would like to set the record straight and make it known I didn’t fuck anyone in the library.”

“What’d you get probation for, then?”

“Just making out.” You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while he’s still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. “What are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you grumble, raising your head. “That some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?”

“No,” comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and you’d find yourself waking up in Mark’s arms instead, but you have no such luck. “By better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone else’s bedroom? That’s real defilement, by the way.”

“How’d you hear about that?” You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. “Fucking Youngho.”

“You doing that too?”

“Shut — please, would you hurry?”

He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witch’s cackle. “Almost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together — like, together together?”

You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyun’s nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. “Yeah. What’s it to you, though?”

“Nothing. You’re lucky.”

For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. “Yeah — yeah, I am.”

“I bet his friends don’t seem to think so.”

“Is this something you know because it’s a guy thing or because you’re so nosy that you just can’t help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles. “Mostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.”

“I noticed that too — a bit, anyway. But it’s just banter, I think.”

“Probably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; it’s like… the perfect ammunition for teasing. But I’m pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.”

“What about yours?”

“I get it,” he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like you’re climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. “I’ll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?”

“Or how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while you’re taking advantage of my goodwill?”

“Sounds like too much effort on my end,” he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. “Later, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way — not the girlfriend way, please.”

You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. You’re so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.

“Oh, fuck— Jesus, I’m sorry, I wa— wait, Donghyuck?”

“Great to see you too, ___________.” He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. “You in a rush?”

“I was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.”

“His shift’s probably almost over. I’m headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.” When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. “Were you in a study group, or something?”

“No,” you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, who’s now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where you’d left him. Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.”

“Oh, Jaehyun, yeah.” Donghyuck snaps his fingers. “We were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I don’t know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?”

“Not really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.”

“It’s funny,” he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Jaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.”

You can’t help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. “What do you mean, my speed?”

“Not sure.” He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “Someone who’d fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers men’s health magazines to be classic literature.”

“That’s your impression of my social circle?”

“You know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Like… you asked him out. Not even the other way around. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why?” You know he doesn’t mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. “A girl can’t ask a guy out?”

(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until you’d cornered him in Youngho’s room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)

“Nah, dude. Like… a girl like you asked a guy like him out.”

“I didn’t ask him out because he was a guy like that,” you say pointedly. “I asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldn’t have asked anyone else out if it weren’t him.”

Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. “You really like him that much, huh?”

“I’m crazy about him.” His nose scrunches up like he’s been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. “Can you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably don’t like it—”

Donghyuck’s chuckle is light and easy. “I’m not teasing him because I hate it; let’s be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. I’ve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because he’s Mark.” A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. “And teasing him is my favorite thing to do.”

You shake your head; you can’t help your amusement, but you’re not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isn’t much you can say to change it either.

The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesn’t aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. There’s barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose there’s a measure of wit in that, but it’s also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide you’ve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.

He’s in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because he’s planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.

“Mark!” The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Hey, you.” His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. “Did you have a busy afternoon?”

“Unfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?”

“I passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Design’s pretty dope.” He nods towards the elevator. “You wanna head up for a little bit?” You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.

“Hey. Can’t you see we’re having a riveting conversation over here?” Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Mark’s shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. “Have some respect.”

“Is the conversation so riveting that I can’t take my girl for the evening at all?”

You mouth out a no, but Donghyuck’s flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Mark’s hand away from your hair. “Yeah, man. At least let us finish up.”

“What’s this even about?”

“How Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,” Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Mark’s jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you can’t keep your voice straight because you’re adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. “Oh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this — and he was giving her the bedroom eyes… I wouldn’t have blamed her if she folded, honestly.”

“Mark, no,” your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. He’s slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dog’s gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. “He’s just kidding—”

“Then he got all close like this—” Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Mark’s face turn a violent shade of red you can’t remember having seen from him before. “Spoke all low — you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? ”

“He’s just messing with you,” you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuck’s hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you can’t inhale properly.

“And he said ‘you’re the hottest chick I’ve ever seen—’ then you know what he did, Markie?”

Mark doesn’t respond; you’re not even sure if he can, considering his Adam’s apple is bobbing dangerously like he’s one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you don’t know what else to do; you know Donghyuck’s teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but you’ve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didn’t involve a math problem or eating you out. “No, really, nothing hap—”

You don’t even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuck’s too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.

“Oh, Jesus,” Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. “Your face is priceless, man.”

“Not funny,” Mark grumbles, and there’s a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like it’s barely controlled.

“Also not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.” Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Man, don’t even worry. She’s downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her out—”

“Anyway.” Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like he’s worried you’ll catch Donghyuck’s crazy. “If that’s all of it…”

“Yeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.”

Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuck’s earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesn’t even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated ‘bye’ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.

It’s a slow elevator, given that it’s an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. You’re not unaware of how tight Mark’s grip is on your hand, but you don’t comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, you’re raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“Nothing happened.” You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. “He was just messing with you because he thinks it’s funny.”

“Yeah, I know.” Even if he says it like that, there’s still lingering doubt in his voice. “Were you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didn’t show up?”

You nod. “He was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I can’t believe he hasn’t been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.”

“No kidding.”

You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Mark’s dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; you’ve seen him all of two times, and it doesn’t look like he’s here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that there’s no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.

You work in relative silence; it isn’t anything unusual since you’ve done this a million times, and you’ve come to learn that small talk isn’t necessary when you’re just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But there’s a weird aura around Mark that you’re not sure how to place; he doesn’t seem like he’s mad, but there definitely seems to be something off — a problem, at least, that you’re not sure you know how to ask about.

So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.

“Pizza or Chinese?” You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like you’ve just woken him up from a dream. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“We just had pizza, so I’m thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.”

You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. “I mean, what are you thinking so hard about?”

“Nothing.” His answer’s a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know he’s lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “He didn’t ask you out, right?”

You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. “What would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.”

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. There’s a red flush on his neck that’s only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. “I know. I don’t like it all the same. I hate… even thinking about it, actually.”

“Really — nothing happened. If you don’t count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there — which I’m sure you’d agree doesn’t count as anything in favor of him.”

“I heard Jung Jaehyun’s kind of a playboy.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. “It means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have — I don’t know. In the end… I just worry.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.

“No — I mean, yes, absolutely. It’s — I mean, it’s just—” He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. “I trust you, without a doubt. I don’t trust other people — not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, or—”

“Or Donghyuck?” You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. “Mark, you know he’s only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.”

“It’s not funny if it’s about you,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. “I know. I’m trying to control it. Sometimes… I don’t know why it gets under my skin. I guess it’s because it could happen — you… finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.”

“And if I said I hate it even more than you?”

His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way he’s running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until you’ve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.

The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Mark’s lips, and you hate that it’s all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until you’re realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm — short and firm.

“Stop doing that.”

His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and what’s left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. “Stop being jealous? I’m… I’m trying.”

You shake your head. “Stop being sexy when you’re jealous.”

The ‘what’ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, there’s a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before he’s able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know — everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesn’t know it.

You’ll never grow sick of the taste of him, you’re sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. It’s familiar and comforting, and it’s only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is — the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.

You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoever’s listening for the gift of Mark Lee.

“Mark,” your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. “You know, right?”

His ‘hm’ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and there’s a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.

“If it isn’t you,” you whisper. “Then there’s nobody else.”

You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like he’s trying — much too hard, and for no good reason — to stop himself from tipping over. You don’t like that either; if he’s there, you think, you should take him over the edge.

“But if you want them to know so badly, then…” You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your claim on me?”

You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. There’s a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way he’s handling you, but you feel it anyway — all of his tension’s concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if he’s worried anything less will cause you to disappear.

“Every time you worry, remember you can do this.” You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. “You’re the only one that can.”

His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. “I know. It’s just not fair.”

You hum in questioning, but he doesn’t answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark he’d surely left, already starting up the same routine. You’d let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. It’s almost a mistake, seeing him like that — lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth he’d been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing — no, that isn’t accurate.

A mouth made for you to kiss.

“What’s not fair?” You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.

“How badly I keep wanting you,” he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. “And how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.”

His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like he’s careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but there’s a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you he’s thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.

“I touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.” His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. “I think about kissing you and it feels like everyone’s thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you don’t know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When I—”

He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesn’t want to continue — doesn’t want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you can’t let it go. “Tell me.”

“When I think about fucking you,” he breathes out, voice barely audible. “Whenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me… I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and it’s driving me crazy because… because they can’t.”

It’s there again, flashing in his eyes — a determination that reads almost like fury.

“They can’t,” he repeats, his voice firmer. “I won’t ever let them. Never.”

You don’t stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does — the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and it’s harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.

“It doesn’t — doesn’t matter,” you manage to whimper out. “How many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.”

His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.

“God, please,” he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. “Please, tell me.”

“Mark, I’m yours.” There’s no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something you’re reinforcing as fact, something that can’t ever change. “I’m always going to be yours — no one else’s. I’ll never let anyone have anything that’s yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. I’ll never say no to you. Only you — always you.”

You know something’s different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, they’re tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear — feel — something there — a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before he’s carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.

You’ve been in Mark’s room before, so there’s absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesn’t matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Mark’s crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldn’t want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you don’t really know why he’s already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.

“Never,” he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. “I’m never going to let anyone take you, ever. You’re all mine.”

His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark he’d left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. You’re usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.

Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but it’s all he seems to need for now.

Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. You’re unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they don’t move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesn’t take the hint — or, perhaps, the bait — keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work — the blooming dark patch you’re sure he’s left where your skin tingles the most.

“If I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t ask for it?”

He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between ‘Mark’ and a sob.

“I want to, so badly.” He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. “I’d want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. I’d want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And I’d want you to say it proudly — that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.”

“Why don’t you?” His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesn’t believe you, too — how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.”

Another laugh escapes him, but there’s more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.

“Show you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?”

“Do you not want to?”

“I want to, and I don’t.” He pauses, slightly amused, and you know he’s remembering the first time you fucked. “I don’t them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I don’t want them to look at what’s mine, but I just want them to know it is.”

“Then you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.”

He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; you’re bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.

“Can’t.” He decides finally. “You’re too pretty for that.”

You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs — not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.

“What about something like this?” You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. You’ve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. “Would you let them watch me do this for you?”

“Let me think about it,” he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You don’t have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.

“Think faster,” you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t even want them to watch me jerk you off?”

“At least give me a full minute.”

You laugh lightly, whispering a ‘fine’ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesn’t need the lubrication, realistically; his precum’s already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.

Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one you’re always up for; there’s something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you can’t reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so — his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesn’t stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and you’re not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.

You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; you’re grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. It’s slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that you’re not really used to, but you don’t care; Mark’s sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.

The room’s filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Mark’s hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isn’t guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he can’t; he wants to feel like he’s fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.

It’s relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize you’d been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.

“It’s… still a no for me.”

Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You don’t want to ask; you just don’t want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like he’s apologetic.

“Even just this — you’re too pretty when you do it.” His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. “I can’t let anyone see what you look like when you’re like this. They’ll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And you’d only do it for me — right?”

You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.

“God, I wish you could see yourself; you’d know what I mean,” he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises you’re making. “How pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when you’re kneeling like this for me — how happy you look when you’re sucking me off. I can’t share that with anyone. Fuck — not ever.”

Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered ‘shit’ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until you’re finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.

His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.

“So pretty,” he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Pretty as hell, fucking perfect — and you’re all mine.”

You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves today’s taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like you’ve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.

His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; it’s like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if he’s worried it’ll fade in a few minutes’ time if he doesn’t give it attention.

“Show me.” Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. “Show me how pretty you are for me.”

His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.

You think he’s about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesn’t happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. “Pretty enough for you to fuck?”

“Do you have to ask if you already know?”

“I want to hear it anyway.”

His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesn’t really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.

“Your pussy’s too pretty not to fuck,” he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. “Seeing it like this… makes me think there’s no way anyone can resist. It’s exactly why I can’t let anyone see you like this.”

You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know it’s nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. “How should we let them know, then? That I’m all yours.”

His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance he’s in. He’s grown quiet, but there’s a thoughtfulness in this pause, like he’s seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him you’re just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You can’t help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isn’t completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.

“Mark, what—”

You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question — he’s tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen — excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.

Mark’s silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesn’t ask, but you can tell he’s wondering if he’s gone too far— if you think he’s crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just can’t know the smile that passes your face.

Finally, he tries to speak up. “We don’t have to— I just meant—”

“What’s your passcode?”

He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. “Your birthday.”

Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you — you don’t even remember when he’d taken it, but it’s a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. It’s grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.

“What’s funny?”

“Just thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.”

“To what?” He sounds bemused.

“The view of me you have now.”

His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a ‘fuck’ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.

You open Mark’s contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you don’t recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesn’t ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far you’re willing to take it, how much you’ve bought into this crazy idea.

“Mark,” you call out, and he hums in response. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

“So if I called Donghyuck right now—” His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and you’re slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. “How much of a show would you want to put on for him?”

He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget you’ve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.

“Just… enough for him to know you’ve always been mine.”

Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name — Lee Donghyuck — and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.

The wait feels like an eternity, with Mark’s finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. “Yo, Mark.”

His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and you’re willing to bet he’s in the middle of an action movie. You’re proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.

“Hi, Hyuck.”

“___________?” He sounds genuinely confused that it’s you that greets him. “Where’s Mark? You okay?”

“He’s right here with me; don’t worry.” Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. “We’re totally fine. What are you up to?”

“Watching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?”

You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesn’t let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.

One moment, you’re listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuck’s side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you don’t bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.

“Hello?”

He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You can’t help it; you laugh too, but it’s quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.

“Now, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?”

“You kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,” you evade his question with another one. “Should I tell you why, if you’re that curious?”

“No way. Have fun, weirdos,” he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.

You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but you’re distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuck’s name flashes across it.

You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you don’t even get a ‘hello’ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.

“But pretending I am,” he says, as though he hadn’t hung up the call a few seconds ago. “Exactly what kind of answer would I get?”

“The kind that’ll hopefully shut you up for good,” Mark pipes in instead of you.

“What’s that even going to sound like?” Already, Donghyuck’s activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Mark’s buttons. This time, though, you can’t say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. “I bet you can’t even get her to yawn, man.”

Mark doesn’t have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, it’s not something you’ve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.

“You okay?” He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuck’s still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know you’re being honest.

“Fucking big, Mark.” You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. “You don’t like knowing he’s big?”

“I just hate that fucker,” Donghyuck quips back easily, but there’s no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.

“Well, I’m crazy about him,” you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. “I’m crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. I’m crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when he’s inside me, how he stretches me out — fuck—”

Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you haven’t fully adjusted, and you’re even tighter now from what you’re saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace — hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.

“Mark,” you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know he’s there. “Mark, fuck, it feels so good—”

You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and it’s with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.

You’re not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phone’s speaker — labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and it’s all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. “I’ll never get tired of how pretty you are — how pretty you always sound for me. Doesn’t she sound pretty, Hyuck?”

“Fucking pretty,” Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet ‘fuck me, harder, harder,’ in response.

“Can you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?” It’s almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Mark’s addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attention’s fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. “Bent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?”

“I’m doing it right now.”

“It’s a thousand times better in person. Trust me.”

The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Mark’s hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.

“Mark, I…. I’ve been— s-since—”

“Not yet,” he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. “Hold out for me a bit, okay? Please. It’s not enough. Not yet enough.”

You wonder if ‘enough’ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isn’t helping you stop it the way your body seems to think it’s supposed to. It also doesn’t help that Mark’s fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual — but not unpleasant — roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hold on for me a little,” he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper ‘can’t’ to him over and over. “Do it for me. Tell Donghyuck — tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.”

You don’t even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.

“It’s not enough,” you echo — and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that it’s true. “Not enough — need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cock— until no one else can fuck me but you—”

“What,” Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. “The fuck.”

You don’t have to explain; your babbling’s doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. He’s jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Mark’s cock. The change doesn’t go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.

“How much tighter can you get?” He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud — there’s a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. “Does it feel that good?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. “So good I’m going to lose my mind. Let me — God, please, let me—”

“Not yet,” Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort — a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you don’t even really need. “Just a little more. I need to see it.”

“See what?” Donghyuck’s voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your head’s light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. You’ve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.

His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, there’s something triumphant in his gaze.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he coos, so lovingly it’d be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldn’t feel it yourself. “I’ll never get enough of your perfect pussy — so perfect that it was made to take me.”

“See what?” Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.

Your inhale’s shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you don’t ever break away from Mark’s gaze, even as you speak.

“His cock fucking me in my stomach.”

Donghyuck’s ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. There’s no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls that’s constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.

Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. You’re only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.

“God, I need to feel it,” he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. “Please — do it for me.”

Even with your brain muddled, you don’t even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. “Love seeing my cock inside you.”

He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously can’t feel his cock under your palms, but you don’t have to anyway; the fit’s tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like he’s fucking your whole body, like he’s pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more — the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.

“Love feeling me inside you,” he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that he’s also barely hanging on. “Love seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.”

You mouth out a disbelieving ‘what the fuck’ that earns you a simple smile, but Mark’s unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.

“Dude, I wanna see it too,” Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. “Put her on video.”

“No way,” comes Mark’s swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. “This is just for me.”

“Selfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.”

“The point wasn’t really ever to share.”

Mark’s hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless — it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you can’t escape anyway — not that you really want to, anyway.

“Mark,” you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. “I can’t anymore — I really—”

“I got you,” he murmurs — something you’ve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. He’ll be here until you break, until you can’t take anymore. “One second, okay?”

“Bro, what? Are you serious—” Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesn’t matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach — for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuck’s complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Mark’s gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.

“Can’t let him hear you cum,” he murmurs against your mouth. “That’s only for me, isn’t it?”

You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one I’ll cum for — the only one that can make me.”

Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.

“Do it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.”

You don’t think it’s possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the wind’s knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mind’s so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.

Mark still doesn’t relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details you’ve come to know so well — the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. He’s close too, so close he’s just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You don’t know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch — pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked — just to get him there.

“Will you mark me up one last time?” You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. “Mark me — inside.”

His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. “I— no, you know I can’t…”

“Do you want to?” You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until you’re sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. “You can, you know — make me yours, from the inside out.”

“God — we can’t; you know we’d be in so much trouble.”

“But I’d let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?” Your fingers toy with his, almost like you’re having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which he’s deep inside you, already aching for release. “Fucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach — making sure no one else can fill me up?”

“Jesus,” he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.

“Think about it,” you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. “And every time you do, remember one day, you will — because you’re the only one that can.”

He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and you’re met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.

“Even when you do that, you’re fucking pretty,” he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. “How much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?”

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, and you don’t have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too — the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.

When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; he’s breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.

A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesn’t even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.

When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark he’d left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise that’s already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.

“Just… can’t get enough of you,” he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; it’s gentler, situated just under your jaw.

“You don’t ever have to think about having enough,” you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. “Just always think about having more.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where you’re wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity — if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuck’s name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.

“Seriously,” he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.

“We kind of left him hanging, to be fair.”

“No fairness.” Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. “He got more than he deserved today.”

You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle ‘be right back’ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.

He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because it’s ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though there’s already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.

You think it’s the last you’ll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.

“One day,” he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. “I’ll really make you all mine.”

“Dummy.” Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Every single day, considering I’ll never get tired of it.”

You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; it’s your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his — like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you — to make sure he won’t let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again — a truth, a fact, and a promise.

“I already am.”

[talaok]

The final jump

Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader

Summary: When your stepdad finds out you and your boyfriend haven't had sex yet, he tells you the reason is that you're a virgin, but thankfully... he can help with that.

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence dub-con, Perv!Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), virginity loss, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, dacryphilia, and daddy-kink. Joel is a full-on perv in this one ok, don't say I didn't warn ya, 

a/n: this is wrong and weird and for the first time since i opened this blog, i actually doubted whether i should post something or not, but at the end of the day this is all fake and i do not condone in any way what's portrayed in this fic. And please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.

Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

"c'mere" he instructed, pulling you into his lap like he always did when Mom wasn't around.

"there's nothing wrong with this" he had explained the first time it happened "Your mom just doesn't need to know about everything"

You nestled your head into the crook of his neck as you continued watching the movie, while his hands settled around your waist and onto your naked thigh.

He always made you wear skirts when you were alone, he even bought you some, and each time they got shorter. Once, you had asked him why, and as always, he had an explanation

"It's good for your skin, sweetheart, your legs need to breathe"

The one you were wearing right now, for example, a very cute baby pink one, barely covered your butt, which must have meant it was very healthy for your skin.

And then of course for the same exact reason, when Mom wasn't home, bras were banned, and you could only wear small tank tops, preferably very low cut and that let your stomach breathe.

You didn't mind the rules Joel had given you, you trusted him, and he knew what was better for you.

Plus, you would have been lying if you said you didn't like all the attention he gave you, even if it was just when you were alone. You loved how much he obviously cared about you, and you loved even more letting him take care of you.

You had never had a dad, unless you count the first three months of your life before your real dad decided to split, so now that you had such a good step-dad, you felt on top of the world, and even if you were 18, you didn't mind being taken care of like no dad ever had.

If he had offered to read you bedtime stories to get you to sleep, you would have probably accepted just to see what you had missed out on, that's how desperate you were.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, clinging to his warm self, and letting his scent wrap around you in the best way.

"You comfortable?" he asked, as his fingers gently drew patterns on your legs

"yes daddy"

Oh, that's right. Calling him daddy was another rule, if not the most important one.

"good" he said, kissing the crown of your head 

Ghostface appeared behind Tara on the screen, and you tightened your hold on him a little bit.

"You scared, babygirl?"

"'m not scared daddy, I've watched this movie like ten times" you giggled

"What a brave girl" he cooed "You're not scared of anything huh?"

"no 'm scared of lots of things daddy, just not horror movies"

"ah that's right" he murmured "You're still scared of spiders, aren't you pretty girl?"

"Well of course" you nodded "but I have you to get rid of them"

"of course you do" he smiled, pulling your legs closer to him by the back of your knees, and making you beam happily.

Your whole backside was exposed now, making you blush a little bit.

You knew there was nothing wrong with this, but you still felt a little insecure about showing so much of yourself to Joel.

He didn't seem to notice as his hand went right to the newly revealed skin.

His hands always felt good against you, in a way you had never quite experienced, they were so big... and so rough, and oh so warm. If you could, you'd let him touch you all day every day.

Suddenly, a ching ran through the room, startling you.

Joel's soft chuckle vibrated through his chest and into yours.

"Not scared huh?"

"I just wasn't expecting that" you whined, removing your hands from him to reach onto the coffee table.

You had to stretch your whole body to do that, giving Joel a full view of your white cotton panties, and what they were trying to cover.

If Joel's cock was hard before, it was now quickly reaching the painfully hard territory.

"Oh sweetie" he tutted, as you grabbed the phone.

"what?" you asked, a tint of panic in your tone.

"it's just these panties..." he trailed off, as his fingers reached for them "This fabric is not good for you darlin'"

"These too?" you asked, a tad disappointed.

It seemed none of the panties you owned were ever good for your skin.

"Yes babygirl," he shook his head "here, let me help you, I'll take them off for you" he said, starting to gently drag them down your legs.

"but daddy-"

"what?" he stopped "I'm just looking out for you sugar, I just want you to be real healthy"

"A-alright" you nodded "I-if you say so"

"There's no need to be shy, babygirl, I'm your daddy, I only do what's best for you" he promised, tugging your underwear until they pooled at your knees.

Joel had to bite down a groan at the sight of your perfect little pussy.

"I know," you said, swallowing slowly 

"Tell you what," he spoke, "I think it's best from now on if you just don't wear any panties when we're alone alright?"

"Sure daddy" you agreed "Can I sit back down now?"

"Of course" he urged, bringing you back into his lap, and slowly taking off your panties completely.

You checked your phone to see who had texted you, already forgetting about what had just happened, when Joel noticed something as he inspected your pretty little panties.

"These are wet babygirl," he said, holding them up for you to see.

your cheeks flushed a little bit as you looked up from your phone.

"Is-Is that bad?"

What if the fabric of your panties was so bad that it made you sick?

You hated being sick

The expression on his face was unreadable, he was looking at you differently.

"Does this happen to you a lot?" he asked, ignoring your question

"O-only sometimes...when I'm with you" you whispered "A-am I sick daddy?"

And then he did the last thing you were expecting, he smiled "no" he shook his head "You're not sick sweetie"

"oh" you breathed, relieved "then what is it?"

"It jus' means you like spendin' time with me a lot"

"Well of course I do" you giggled, looking back at your phone.

Joel watched you for a moment more, your face so innocent... too pretty for your own good, before pocketing the panties to add to his collection.

He didn't understand how you still hadn't noticed half your underwear had disappeared from its drawer.

"who was it?" he asked, once he had placed his hands on your ass, and on your inner thigh, feeling the warmth of your core closer and closer to his fingers.

"Just Chad" you answered "he's asking if I can hang out with him tomorrow night"

"mh" he considered.

He never liked Chad much

"This Chad" he started "he's good to you right?"

"Yes daddy" you stifled a laugh "You don't have to ask me every time I bring him up"

"Jus' wanna make sure" he shrugged "You're being safe and everything?"

"what do you mean?" you frowned "I don't think there's anything risky about going out to eat once in a while"

"now that's not what I meant babygirl" he smirked 

"oh" you breathed "what did you mean then?"

"I meant to ask if you're usin' protection"

"Protection?" your frown just deepened.

You lived in Austin Texas, not the Wild West, protection from what, mosquitoes?

"Yeah protection, sugar" he nodded

"From what?" you asked, more confused than ever.

"oh baby girl" he laughed softly, leaning back onto the couch "condoms. You use condoms?"

And in an instant, your face had turned red.

"Oh, I- We- I haven't- we didn't-" 

That's all you could muster from your flustered state.

Joel's amusement left his face in a second to make space for something... else.

He had prompted this subject just to see you all embarrassed, and hear you talk about what he dreamed of doing every night with you, but this... this had just gotten interesting.

"you haven't done it?" he asked

It took a moment before you finally managed to shake your head no.

His grip on your thigh got tighter

"why's that?"

Your teeth let go of your bottom lip so you could respond.

"I-I don't know"

All it took was another look at you, at your big blown-out eyes, at your red cheeks, and it all came together.

"sweetheart," he said gently "are you a virgin?"

Your forehead creased again in puzzlement.

"w-what's that?"

His lips pulled into a smirk, and you watched each muscle on his face with curiosity.

"Oh baby" he smiled "I mean have you ever had sex?"

Your chest was rising and falling so quickly that you wondered how long it would take for you to hyperventilate.

The redness of your skin had now spread to your ears and neck too.

"I-I" you mumbled, avoiding his eyes

"Sweetie" he cooed, gently guiding your face to look up at him "You can tell me"

You gulped, looking into his hazel eyes.

Oh, how stupid you were being. Of course you can tell daddy.

"No" you slowly shook your head.

"Ah" he hummed "then that's why"

"That's why what?" you asked

Now, a good man would have stopped there, a good man would have dropped this right there... but good men didn't fantasize about their step-daughters, good men didn't come up with rules to watch them walk around the house half naked, good men didn't pull their panties down just to catch a glimpse of what they'd been dreaming of for months, and Joel, well Joel was already going to hell, so why not make the final jump.

"That's why Chad hasn't had sex with you"

"W-what?"

He wet his lips, not thinking about anything else but how good that pretty cunt of yours must feel around his cock.

"No guy wants to be a girl's first, babygirl" he murmured, stroking your cheek.

"Really?" your eyes widened at the realization "but- why?"

"lots of reasons sweetie" he explained "girls tend to... get attached"

"oh" your perfect mouth created the cutest little o

"yeah baby" he nodded "I'm sorry"

Your eyes were starting to water, and your throat was getting clogged up

"but then... who's ever gonna want to make love to me?"

make love? god you were so innocent

"you want Chad to make love to you, pretty girl?"

You were pouting so cutely Joel's heart was starting to break a little bit.

"I mean- maybe... I don't know" you murmured, tears falling from your eyes now "but he's never gonna want to now!" you sobbed

He wiped away your tears with his thumb before bringing you closer to his chest, giving you a big tight hug.

"It's ok sugar, shh" he calmed you down.

"H-how is he ever gonna want to make love to me?" you asked, raising your doe eyes to him.

And there it was, his free pass to the flames of hell.

"Well, there is a way," he said gently

"W-what?" you stumbled over your words

"I could help you out" he spoke

"H-how?"

His eyes darted from your watery eyes to your pretty pink mouth.

"I could be your first"

Your heart missed a beat.

"Y-you?"

"Yeah sweetheart, that way you can tell Chad you're not a virgin, and he'll for sure want to make love to you "

Your eyes sparked up

"Really?" you beamed "Y-you'd do that for me?"

"Of course" he promised, "What else are daddies for?"

"Oh thank you, daddy!" You threw your arms around him to hug him like your life depended on it "You're the best"

He grinned into your hair, thanking every existing being for having granted him such a gift: you.

"oh sweetheart, trust me it's you who's the best" he murmured.

You leaned away, a smile from ear to ear plastered on your face "So-uhm- How does this work?"

He smiled at your eagerness

"Well, first of all, we gotta get on a bed" he explained "so wrap your arms and legs around me and hold on tight baby girl"

"Like this?" you asked, after obliging

"Perfect" he nodded before standing up from the couch.

A soft whimper fled your mouth as he made you bounce a little bit to set you better on his body.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here" he cooed, starting to walk up the stairs, and before you realized, you were in your room.

"why didn't we go to your room?" you wondered aloud

"I just like yours better" he dismissed your question as he settled you on the bed.

You looked around the walls and posters and floor you knew so well and then back at him.

You didn't think he'd ever been in here before, and it was such a weird image.

he looked so out of place in such a girly space.

"and now?" you asked, looking up at him expectantly.

He smirked "Now we take off these pretty clothes of yours"

"O-oh, alright" you nodded, watching as he kneeled in front of you.

His hands went to your tank top first, slowly seeping underneath it before taking it off of you.

A small groan left his throat, and you observed how his eyes focused on your breasts.

"I-is there something wrong?" 

"No, sweetie, I'm just real happy to help you, 's all"

You smiled cheerfully at that.

He was always so nice.

"Now we gotta take off this skirt" he explained, gently pulling it down for you until it pooled at your feet.

You didn’t think you'd ever seen Joel smile so wide.

"Good God baby girl" he breathed, taking each and every inch of you in like you were a piece of art in a museum "You're real pretty, you know that?"

Your cheeks reddened as your lips pulled into a shy smile.

"T-thank you" you mumbled

He stroked your thighs a little, but way too soon he was standing up.

He reached into his back pocket for something, and a moment later his phone was in his hand.

You watched as he swiped somewhere on the screen and then took a step back to make sure the camera didn't miss any part of you.

"What are you doing?" you asked, curious more than anything.

"Takin' some pictures"

"Oh," you murmured "W-why?"

"Don't worry baby, 's just me" he reassured you, now stepping closer to you again to caress your cheek softly, making you forget all about your worries.

"Do you think you could pose for me a little?"

"sure" you nodded, wanting to please him however you could.

"Such a good girl" he praised more to himself "Lay down for me mh?"

You immediately did, scooting more onto the bed and resting your back on the mattress.

"Spread your legs now" he instructed, loving the way you so easily obeyed.

You heard a soft click as he took another picture from right between your legs.

"Very good" he said "Now smile a lil', show me how happy you are Daddy's helping you out" 

You did of course, and this time he moved his phone a little upward so your face was more in the frame.

"now c'mere again" he said, urging you with two of his fingers.

You sat at the edge of the bed, right in front of him.

"so obedient..." he smirked, as he stroked your cheek "suck on my fingers sweetie" he ordered, slowly pushing his index and middle finger past your lips.

You were very very confused about this pose, but chose not to question it.

"Look at me" he instructed, and you watched his grin widen as he took the photo.

"You did real good honey" he spoke, placing his phone on your nightstand.

"Thank you daddy" you beamed, as he kneeled before you again.

A question came to you while he did

"Is Chad gonna take pictures too?" 

A tint of jealousy flashed behind his eyes

"No," he said firmly "and if he tries, you take his phone and throw it away, ok?"

"O-ok" you nodded.

"Now" he seemed to get back to himself "How 'bout you lay down and let me take care of you?"

"S-sure" you stuttered, lying down again.

You raised your head to look at him as he slowly spread your legs.

You felt very much on display, but you weren't embarrassed, you knew Joel only had good intentions.

Suddenly, he bent down to kiss you right on your mound.

You let out a gasp

He looked up at you, a devilish smile plaster on his face as his lips traveled lower, now finding your clit.

"Daddy!" you gasped again.

"what is it baby girl, it don't feel good?"

"N-no it just feels..."

You honestly had no idea how to describe how it felt.

"How?" he insisted

"tingly" you murmured

He smirked, kissing your clit again just to taunt you

"That's good baby" he explained "It means you're enjoying this"

"Oh- really?" you asked, wide-eyed 

"Really" he confirmed, before abruptly licking a long stripe of your pussy, and forcing your gasp to soon convert into a moan.

Oh, he definitely liked hearing that.

And the moment he decided on that, he started quite literally devouring your cunt, feeding off of it like it was the source of eternal youth.

"Oh my god" you started chanting in a high pitch, as your legs got a life of their own at the feeling.

You were losing yourself in the feeling when, suddenly, you felt something probing at your... entrance, and you whimpered in surprise.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" you asked, as your hands grabbed the covers for something to hold onto.

He fought the urge to ignore you and do what needed to be done.

"Imma put a finger inside of you now ok?" he explained as sweetly as he could, desperately trying to hide his frustration.

His cock was begging for some sort of relief, and you were only slowing him down.

"a-a finger?" you breathed "W-why?"

"Because I need to make sure this pretty little pussy of yours can take all of daddy"

You scrunched your nose, making a face

"What?" he asked

"I don't like that word"

"What word?" he asked "pussy?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

He couldn't help but laugh a little "What would you rather I call it?" he murmured mockingly,(only of course you didn't realize) "Your tootie?"

"I'm not a kid" you giggled " I haven't called it that since I was-"

Your words died in your throat once his middle finger plunged into your heat.

Your mouth parted in shock, but no sound came out.

"real good sweetie" he praised you, bending down again to suck on your bud, as he started moving his finger in and out of you.

"Daddy!" you cried, at the feeling

"I know, I know" his tone was loaded with false empathy "Now stay still for me alright?"

But before you had time to ask why, another one of his fingers had made its way inside of you.

"Daddy wha-" your own sentence was interrupted by a moan "You said you were gonna put only one finger in!" you protested

"I know baby girl" he whispered against your heat, sending a shiver up your spine "but I know what's best for you, don't I?"

Of course he did

"mh-mh" you nodded

"Good girl" he praised, not missing the way your walls tightened around him at the praise "How does it feel?"

"I-it hurts a little" you winced, 

"mh" he considered "that's because no one had touched you down here before" he spoke in between licks to your clit "Not even yourself right?"

"n-no" you answered in a breathy whisper.

"good," he said mostly to himself "And how does it feel now?" he asked, curling his fingers into your g-spot.

Your back arched from the bed

"b-better" 

He kept doing that, making you gasp and squirm under him until...

"and how 'bout now?"

A third finger intruded your hole, making you cry out so loud the neighbors probably heard.

"daddy!" you whined as your eyes watered "T-that hurt, why would you do that?"

"oh sweetie... I needed to do that" he cooed, watching your pussy struggling to stretch around his fingers "If you wanna take daddy's cock you need to be able to take three of my fingers at least"

"t-that's a lot" you sobbed

"Oh I know" he murmured "but you did it like a good girl" he kissed your clit as a reward, "Now all you gotta do is relax and come around daddy's fingers"

"b-but I've never done that, I-I don't know how to-"

"shh" he shushed you, moving his fingers inside your warm cunt as he leaned down again to put his tongue to use "Just relax for me sweetie"

And so you did, you closed your eyes and fell back onto the bed as you tried adjusting to his fingers and the feeling they were bringing with them.

You had no idea what was happening to you, you'd heard some of your friends talk about sex, and you did a few lessons in sex ed, but you never really got it... and this was very different from what you were expecting.

Joel's hands were gripping your thighs to keep your legs apart, and when he curled his fingers inside of you again, a pang of pure pleasure took over you, and as a deep moan left your mouth, your left hand got a life of its own and found Joel's hair, gripping it tightly.

He groaned into your cunt and a strange feeling started pooling down your belly.

"Oh god" you whimpered "Daddy- I-"

He started going even faster, the squelching of his fingers plunging into your core filling the whole room as you cried out louder and louder.

"I-I think it's h-happening" you breathed "W-what do I do?" you moaned "D-daddy?"

He was lost in the thought of how good your walls were gonna feel as they tightened around his cock instead of his fingers, but as you cried again, he came back to earth.

"Let go sweetheart" he urged, watching your face contort in all sorts of expressions and bashing in the knowledge that it was him who was provoking them "Be a good girl and come for daddy"

And with that, your eyes snapped open to glimpse at him before every cell in your being exploded and rearranged itself inside of you as you came.

"You did good" he spoke as you tried calming your breathing "you did real good baby" he nodded, as he took his fingers out of you and stared at your pussy like it was a piece of art.

"t-thank you" You gave him a shy smile, as your hands dropped to your sides.

"but now you're gonna have to do even better" he started, as he got up "Can you do that for me? Can you be good?" he asked, as he took off his t-shirt and started undoing his pants.

A tint of fear made its way into your excitement, but you didn't let it show.

"Of course Daddy" you eagerly answered "I'll be good"

"you sure?" he arched his brow as his pants fell to his feet and all that remained on his body was a black pair of boxers with a very big tent probing in the front.

"I-I'm sure" you nodded "I'll be good for you"

"good" his lips pulled into a proud line and then finally, he took his boxers off, and an involuntary little gasp came out of your mouth.

"it's nothing to be scared off sweetheart" he chuckled "Here, why don't you touch it"

You gulped as you raised yourself into a seated position, coming eye-to-eye with his scarily big penis.

You looked up at him for approval and he he offered you an encouraging nod, so you slowly raised your index finger, and gently pressed it again his red tip.

You let your finger graze his whole length, feeling every vein and curve of his manhood, and before you could do it again his voice interrupted.

"don't be scared, wrap your hand around it" he urged, watching as you slowly obeyed "Jus' like that" he said, his voice deeper now "go up and down now" 

you did, and you were fascinated by the feeling of his dick twitching in your palm and his skin rubbing against yours.

One of his hands reached the back of your head impatiently as you admired his length, urging you closer.

"use your mouth baby" he breathed heavily.

You slowly leaned closer and met your lips with his tip, leaving a little kiss on it.

He couldn't help but chuckle "Open it, sweetie," he said, looking down at you as you abided "Stick your tongue out for me" 

You did, and before you knew it, his penis was filling your mouth.

"Now suck" 

You hollowed your cheeks as best as you could and suddenly, his hand in your hair started guiding more and more of him into your mouth, until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged loudly as a tear ran down your cheek.

"that all you can take?" he watched you "We're gonna have to work on that, 'm not even halfway in baby" he smirked to himself, before retracting his hips and leaving your mouth empty.

Before you had the time to ask what he meant by that, he'd already given you another order.

"lay down"

You found your initial position again, and in a moment, he had grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.

One of his hands was gripping his dick as he looked right in your eyes 

"Stay still" 

that's all he said, before he started pushing his huge cock into you.

"Ah!" You cried as you felt your hole stretch and burn and hurt all at the same time.

"Shhh" he shushed you, not listening as he continued to push.

"d--daddy it hurts"

"It's supposed to hurt" he lied "Now relax"

And you tried, you really tried, but once another inch of him invaded you, you moved away, or at least, tried to, since his hands started gripping you tighter, giving you no chance to move.

"I told you to stay still" he sounded angry, and you didn't want daddy to be angry, but it hurt so much.

Tears pooled in your eyes and your voice broke as you spoke.

"I-I'm sorry Daddy" a sob climbed up your throat "b-but it's too big"

I don't give a fuck if it hurts, just stay still, he thought, but of course, he couldn't say that.

"Daddy's just tryna help you baby" he cooed "Do you want Chad to make love to you?" he asked, earning a nod from you "Then you have to stop moving and let me put my cock inside of you, ok?"

You sniffled as other tears fell from your eyes "O-ok"

He pushed inside of you again and your cries only got more pathetic.

now if it were up to him he would have already forced his cock inside of you, ignoring your whines and enjoying seeing you cry from how big he was but... if he ever wanted this to happen again, he needed to be gentle with you unfortunately.

"here" he said, pushing his thumb past your lips "suck on it sweetie, that 'll calm you down"

You did as told, and even if it still hurt like hell, it did take your mind off of it a little.

"we're almost there" he promised, watching you take more and more of his cock "Just a little more and-" 

"Good God" he breathed, taking a moment to memorize every inch of your walls and the way they felt around him.

"you feel so fucking good baby" he groaned, his head falling to his chest a moment at the feeling.

You felt better than he could have ever fucking imagined.

"I'm gonna start moving now"

He retracted his hips and noticed with a sick enjoyment the blood covering his dick before thrusting into you so harshly that even if your mouth was busy, the cry you let out could be heard perfectly.

"such a crybaby" he cooed, thrusting into you particularly harshly just to hear you cry again for him.

He watched the tears fall from your eyes as he started finding his pace.

And slowly, oh so slowly, you started adjusting, and from the pain, came the pleasure, pleasure so strong it felt like it could kill you.

"fuck you're tight" he grunted, "look at you" his eyes alternated between your eyes and where your body met his "Taking all of daddy's cock so well" he groaned "Being so good" he hissed, as he fastened his pace "fuck-tell me how it feels baby, tell me how good daddy's making you feel"

His thumb left your mouth and a brutal moan left it with it.

"tell me" he urged you again, gripping your waist.

"'s so good" you whimpered while gripping the sheets "You feel so good, Daddy"  

"yeah?" he smirked, as a drop of sweat trailed his forehead 

"yes Daddy" you promised before one of his hands found your core and started circling your clit.

"Daddy!" you cried

"what is it baby, 's too much?"

"mh-mh" you nodded as your eyes threatened to spill again 

"it's ok, daddy's here" he cooed, "you trust me, don't you?"

"I-I do"

"then relax"

You swallowed thickly and you did as told, trying to calm your racing heart as your breathing got more and more ragged.

"daddy?" you whimpered, looking up at him with doe eyes

"yeah, sweetheart?"

"could you... could you kiss me please?" 

A smug smirk pulled at his lips "You want me to kiss you?"

"Yes please"

"you sure?"

"yes, daddy please!" you begged now, more desperate, and before you knew it, he'd bent down and his lips were on yours while his tongue was in your mouth.

He let out a low groan at how fucking heavenly you felt, while you tasted all of him like you were starving.

He was such a good kisser...

And right as he pulled away and whispered "fuck you're perfect" the same feeling that he'd given you with his fingers erupted all over again.

A low chant of daddy left your mouth and as you squeezed him so fucking good and so fucking tight Joel couldn't do anything but follows suit, emptying his balls inside your tight cunt and ruining you definitively.

Fuck it, he was gonna buy you a plan B tomorrow, and if that didn't work he'd just blame it on Chad.

"Jesus" he muttered, as he pulled out and fell next to you on the bed.

Both your chests were rising and falling way too quickly.

You turned to him, and when he noticed, he did the same.

"thank you so much daddy" you murmured, nestling closer to him and kissing his cheek.

"no worries baby" he smiled, putting an arm around you to keep you closer as he kissed your forehead "You did good"

"thank you" you blushed

"but y'know..." he cocked an eyebrow "guys like girls with a little experience"

"Really?" you asked, wide-eyed

"yes sweetheart" he nodded "So before you make love with Chad, I think it's best if we practice for a bit, what do you say?"

Your eyes found his, and all you could see in them was the perfect stepdad, helping you in any way he could.

"I'd like that, thank you so much, daddy"

Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

[honey-milk-depresso]

Jason, Tim and Dick with an s/o who’s completely the opposite of them??

Requests open until 1 Feb (GMT 8+)! Please read the rules on my pinned post (provided the navi post link to go to rules). Thank you!🩷

Batboys with an s/o completely opposite of them

Dick Grayson

Dick is a very extroverted, active and optimistic individual while you’re very introverted, lazy (let’s all be real here-) and… well, he calls you a realist (because he doesn’t wanna call you a pessimist-).

The two of you have a rather funny dynamic between the two of you: Dick’s always the one dragging you out because you need “sunlight”.

“Come on, s/o! Let’s take a stroll! Gotta get that vitamin D!”

“Dick… it’s 8pm.”

“…” “You get the point, come on now-”

He’s just concern for your health because he loves you and doesn’t want you to just laze at home all the time, you know? And isn’t it nice to take a stroll with your boyfriend?? Come on now-

Dick’s always the one to cheer you up when you’re grumpy or sad (or both), and you’re always there to ground him back to reality when needed and he appreciates that.

Another thing to note is that he actually has poor communication skills when it comes to the relationship, and always feels like he’s a burden to share his problems. You, on the other hand, aren’t afraid to speak your mind and put a lot of trust in him when it comes to communicating challenges within your relationship with Dick and you encouraging him to put trust in you because he will never burden you because you love him honestly makes him admire you, and also fall in love with you even more.

It’ll take some time, not because he doesn’t trust you, it’s just because there’s that lingering thought of not wishing to burden you and also because old habits die hard but… slowly he’ll get there, and that’ll be the one thing you guys can be similar in.

For now, he loves his potato couch cutie (just stroll with him every once in a while at least-) <3

Jason Todd

Has no idea how he even managed to get you, because you’re everything he’s not.

He’s always so emotional, impulsive and jealous, while you’re so calm, rational and trusting in him even when he knows he’s got so much sin in him that he’s not proud of committing, and knows he can’t be forgiven for them at times.

Yet… you never saw that in him. You’ve always thought he’s someone compassionate, loyal and caring, and you love him even at his worse. He’s never thought of himself like that after you told him so sincerely and gently that he almost broke down and cried. You love him so much as much as he loves you it makes him feel so warm and comforted. He just feels so lucky to have you.

He kinda wishes he’s like you, because he’d always think it’s better to be anyone else but you’d tell him otherwise. Besides, it’s always opposites that attract.

He loves you with every fibre of his being, you’re like a second chance given to him. Well, not that he sees you as a way to feel better but he genuinely believes you’re an angel sent to him. Literally. But seriously, he loves you and he’ll try to be a little bit more calmer than let his anger get the best of him. You always can calm him down anyways.

You always told him that his compassion for you touched you, and that his warmth and love is something you’ve never had before from anyone, you make him feel so special, you know that? <3

Tim Drake

Tim’s… all sorts of things. He’s ambivert, more introvert-leaning, but he’s also poor in time management due to his workaholic nature and rather reserved in temperament.

And you were a lot more responsible and better in time management because you ACTUALLY do set limits for yourself than just doing EVERYTHING in one goal. You weren’t a control-freak like him, rather taking things slowly. Just like him, you’re an ambivert but more extrovert-leaning and you had a tendency of getting lost in your emotions, just being more sensitive than him in general.

Every time you try to drag him to bed, shower, eat, just take care of himself he gets a bit pouty every time you do this but he’s touched. You had to open his eyes to let him see that timetables exist, and open up his heart to let him know it’s okay to take a break. Breaks even. He deserves breaks.

Tim is always there to calm you down. You just get so worried for him every time he goes out for patrol because anything could happen to him in Gotham. He reassured you, kissing your forehead softly while you patch him up with a little bit of tears glossing your eyes and tells you he’s okay. He’s never really had people care for him so much to the point they cry which was why when he got a few minor cuts on his arms and torso, he panicked when he saw you cry so much. He makes a mental note to make sure he doesn’t come home too injured, but at the same time you always tell him he shouldn’t hide his pain from you. You just want him safe.

You two just blend well together, and he always feels like he can come to you when he feels troubled. And you can always go to him for comfort.

Bonus: You dragging Tim by his feet to go to bed while his coffee-drunk ass is sighing in defeat and lets you drag him away but smiled tenderly despite being tired. Sigh, fine. He’ll sleep, just for you. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[riizebabie444]

𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 ♥️

hey all, sorry for not posting for so long, here is one of the requested pac's. this reading is about the attractive and sexy things about you that you don't realise. there are two parts, general and from your person's pov. hope you enjoy!

picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image.

be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment or guidance only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

♥️ ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

pile one

in general, the sexy things you do without knowing are represented by eight of pentacles, eight of wands rv and death. with two eights here, i'm seeing your body type could be a major cause of your sexiness. it could be your chest or your booty, maybe you have curves or an obvious hourglass or pear figure. there are definitely parts of your body that people notice and find sexy. it could also be your eyes too, your eyes are sensual without you realising.

i think you have an air of mystery around you, you are private and don't like to show everything to the world in the way some other people do. it could be your body, your style, your business, even your plans for the weekend. but this privacy you have for yourself makes you seem like an enigma to others. people find the mystery sexy because then you leave it up to them to think what you are really like. mystery is just sexy anyway, so it doesn't need a lot of explaining.

furthermore, i see you being labelled as "hard to get" some may joke about you playing hard to get. maybe you're not even playing, you're just plainly not interested but others will still thank that way, that you are not easy. maybe you do it on purpose, maybe you don't i get i a mix here. but overall, others think it is hard work to get close to you whether romantically, sexually or platonically. you intimidate others with your no bullshit attitude and they find that attractive. what is rare is sought after. so many people will think you are "sexier" because there is a limited number of people you will allow your time and energy towards.

for your person, what they find sexy about you is your brightness and optimism. it is weird to describe traits like that in a "sexy" way however, i do see this. the person you are thinking of finds it so attractive how bright you are, how so many people look towards you when you don't realise. like you're nonchalant or unbothered by the attention. your confidence is also so sexy, your bravery in standing for what you believe and finding success chasing your dreams. you don't let things stand in your way.

this person really loves your back, they find it so sexy. i think you may actually be insecure about your back or just think it is not sexy, but trust me your person loves your back so much. they love your arms. they love when you are topless. they love when you wear dresses and skirts. they love when you love down at them, they get really turned on. i also think if you wear cute, coquette frilly and lace style of clothes/details on your clothes, they find it sexy. like cute lingerie or clothes in general. even floral, they find it so hot even though it's just your style preference. if not, then they want you to wear more of it because it is so sexy to them.

pile two

i think sometimes the clothes you wear and the way you hold yourself is sexy to others. it might be normal to you, you just wear what you want to wear. but some people might find it a little sexy even if you don't intend it that way. and the way you carry yourself, i see a lot of confidence here. good posture, the way you sit, particularly the way you lean down is very sexy. like say you dropped something and bent down to get it, it is quite sexy if someone saw it they wouldn't be able to stop thinking about the image. i'm seeing bending down and your hair falling or moving in that direction, like something out of a movie. but then when you fix your hair after standing back up, that is also sexy.

i think your hands are also sexy which you might not realise. people might like seeing you hold something because there is something about the way you hold things, your hands and fingers look so graceful and sexy. i see you might also be a bit clumsy, i'm seeing stars in your eyes or little stars spinning around your head. you could be a clumsy person, doing or saying silly things. in a way, this is sexy to others because they see you as a cute little, bright eyed, starry eyed thing. i get a hint of corruption here, people find it so sexy because you seem innocent and sweet but they're having different thoughts.

i see others may think you'd make a good mother or parent in general. you are seen as wife material. not the type to have a casual fling with. someone to settle down with. this is sexy because they think of having a family, how you would be as a mother. because of this, you might attract people who have breeding kinks. this message is random but yeah, the people who think you'd make a good wife and mother (or father/parent) would find you sexy because they want to breed you.

for your person, who you are thinking of, they will love your shoulders and collarbone. like i'm seeing someone kissing their a lot. they would love when you wear strapless tops or dresses. they also find it sexy when you wear gloves. the way you style your hair is sexy. again, i see when you hold things in your hand, with your person you might be holding something more particular if you get my drift, they find it sexy.

this is an odd one to look out for but i'm seeing that they find it sexy when you are emotional and crying. definitely be careful for people who are just trying to manipulate you, but i'm seeing this in a way that they like when you cry during sexy times or when you have emotional sex. for this person, emotions are a big turn on so sometimes even when you're being genuine with emotions, they can get excited by it because it is somehow sexy to them.

pile three

hey pile three. the sexy things you do without realising are represented by the hermit, justice and two of cups rv. with the hermit, i see that you have a sort of lone wolf vibe. you may have lots of friends or maybe not a lot but either way you look confident even when you are by yourself. people look at you and see that you don't need to be surrounded by people to feel confident. they think you are confident without people. you don't need anyone else to fill your inner life because you make it rich enough already. i think you also take things at your own pace, you don't conform to things easily. i'm seeing a scenario where most people are easily influenced by things they see in the internet on tiktok, but you are not so influenced. you won't follow trends for the sake of following trends but rather you'll follow things if they suit you. so people would think it is attractive because in an age where everyone thinks the same because we all consume the same, you stand out and can think for yourself. a lone wolf and smart is how i'm seeing you and it is attractive to others.

with justice, it is similar to what i previously said, you are strong in your beliefs and the things you follow. you don't believe things just because others believe it. you have your convictions. you are truthful and upright in your own regard. you judge others fairly. i think some may think you are a bit stuck up in this sense, because you stand out from fitting in with others. but i see that some still find this sexy, even those who don't like it. like, i see them thinking "i wish i was like pile three" or "i want to be with someone like pile three" but at the same time they will say "pile three is judgemental and stuck up". but still people find this attractive. there is nothing sexier than a person who knows themselves and believes themselves.

lastly, the things you don't realise are sexy, i see you personal style. i think when you wear formal attire or you dress up for an occasion, people love it! they find it so surprising and sexy for some reason. dressed smart but flashy. also, wearing high contrast colours or outfits with contrasting components makes you look sexy. in terms of your style, when you pair two colours together, it looks really good and others will think positively of your style. honestly i think again the way you are out of sync with others makes you unknowingly sexy. it's giving hot aquarius vibes, don't conform to society, doesn't think like everyone else. i also see that your shoulders and even collarbone, as well as your forearms are the physical parts fo you that people would find sexy.

for your person, what they find sexy is represented by three of wands, queen of swords rv and the artist. the way you are in control of your life and your future makes others feel proud but also scared of you, if that makes sense. and it makes them more attracted to you. for example, they would think you can sustain yourself without them and it scares them because they don't want to be without you but at the same time your power and confidence is sexy. also, your passions to travel and learn continuously comes up.

okay i'm seeing that you may have a no bullshit attitude, however, sometimes it can come off as a lack of empathy for others. whether true or not, what your person finds sexy is how you are the opposite with them. how you can trust and be soft with them and how you will confront your flaws and work on yourself as a part of your journey. and i think it is perceived as sexy because not a lot of people can do this honestly. and even when you do, it is difficult but you don't sugarcoat it. the power and the confidence and the creativity you have makes them so attracted to you and you would never think that they find it an appealing aspect of yourself.

pile four

i'm going to start with your persons perspective pile four because i'm relly excited by what they have to say. you are literally marriage material to them, or at least "i want to spend the rest of my life with them" and they find it so darn sext pile four! they love the joy and victory you bring into their life, as well as the simplicities, the domesticity. they see a beautiful and bright future with you. and i also lowkey see like the sweet forbidden fruit, so maybe you and this person aren't supposed to be together or you don't expect it and it makes the connection a bit more tense but exciting. it brings that spiciness, they aren't suppose to have you but they still want you and believe you will have a future together and that's hot to them.

i see you hands, when you're holding something long if you get my drift. your person would love it if when you giving them some hand action, it goes both ways but i'm mainly seeing the hand holding a stick so you're either playing with them or yourself. again, goes both ways. it could also be just holding random things, they find your hands so pretty so you could be holding the tv remote and they'll think it's sexy. you mind is stimulating also, you and your person could be people who need intellectual stimulation rather than physical and visual alone. your mind is like a maze they want to get lost in, they get turned on by your witty remarks and banter especially when flirting, they just want to kiss your face off.

and lastly, i see that your peaceful aura is so attractive to them. one wouldn't think calm and cosy vibes is a sexy thing to to your person and many others, peace and comfort is a turn on. you stay away from drama. like sure, everyone loves a bit of drama but i mean this in the sense that you aren't actively involved in drama, nor the cause of it, and can easily distance yourself from drama caused by other people. they love seeing you overcome things, and this makes you attractive to them because it furthers the agenda that you are the person they want to spend their future with, someone who is peaceful and warm.

now for the things in general that you do not realise are sexy. i see hands again. so not only your person, but others in general find that you have pretty nice hands. when you're holding things. i'm seeing the curve of your hand or your arm, the same and size can be a turn on for some. it could also represent the way you create opportunities for yourself. i see that you also look or act rich. whether you are rich or not doesn't matter, just the way you hold yourself, like you come from a good background. definitely a desirable feature that makes you sexier.

i think some of you may have had a glow up or your looks significantly changed. could also just be something as simple as your clothing style or hair colour that changed. this change in your appearance makes you sexier. it may not seem much to you, like say you just changed your hair colour. but others, especially the opposite sex or desired sex, find you more sexy after the change. i think you may not go out a lot, like hanging out with friends or attending parties. maybe it is not you thing. but when you do go out, everyone is excited to see you. like, you are rare to others, so people find it mysterious and kind of cherished. it makes you more desired. you may think "oh im so lonely and boring" but others are like "when will pile four hang out with us? i really want to see them" and lastly, i see the trust you have in yourself and the world or god, you seem so content and peaceful pile four and it makes you so sexy and desirable.

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[pufflehuffing]

Courting rules in the 1890's and Hogwarts students

Courting: be involved with (someone) romantically, with the intention of marrying.

I love reading time accurate fanfiction and decided to delve into the courting rules of Victorian England, more specifically the late 1800's. I twisted some rules to add my personal interpretation of how these habits would work for Hogwarts students. This post is specifically about courting, not casual dating. Please keep in mind that the 1890's weren't as progressive as the 2020's while reading and that this discusses middle- and working-class families. This post will probably be subject to additions when I learn even more about Victorian England.

English isn't my native language so I hope the grammar isn't too bad? Let me know!

Meeting someone new.

Typically, teenagers were allowed by their families to begin courting between the ages of 16 to 18, though their education always came first. Girls were taught at home by their mothers to prepare meals and take care of the household. Boys were taught to work with their fathers at home or at the local workshops so they knew how to handle enterprise. During the summer months, Hogsmeade had more soon-to-be sixth-years working the shops than the actual owners.

In September, sixth-years were taught sexual education by the school nurse. She was aided by the potions professor, who taught the girls how to brew a simple contraceptive. Boys were taught their valuable role in society, and how important it was that they did not court multiple girls at a time. It was the boy who had to make a move, so to speak. Victorian women had a more helpless image than they do today, seen as delicate flowers who needed men to take charge.

A girl who was kind, patient, benevolent, peaceful, charitable, and caregiving, was worth pursuing. Girls were to pursue boys who possessed the ability to speak with ease, respect, and courtesy to all, a neat appearance, excellent manners and respect for all women.

The two sexes didn't mingle much. Students would often stay within their own circle, only befriending peers in their own house and classes. The only times that Hogwarts students really had time to meet someone new was during their walks in the hallways, study time in the library or on their trips to Hogsmeade. Therefore, students would often join extracurricular clubs to widen their circle like Quidditch, the school choir, the Astronomy club, Crossed Wands, etc.

Students taking Defense Against The Dark Arts were to follow rules when dueling with the other sex. Boys weren't permitted to use Depulso or other blasting charms at their female peers unless specifically asked for by the professor as it was ungentlemanly to launch a female into a stack of crates without reason.

Dating and falling in love.

If he perceived that she was interested, and he was confident that his position in life and circumstances were sufficient to allow him to proceed, a boy took the next step — sending an owl to the girl's father (or his next-in-line if he had died or was absent from the family) to ask permission to pay a visit to their home. In this letter, he stated his position and prospects, and mentioned his family, as well as his blood status and house. Boys would often pen down what electives they were taking and which profession they would like to pursue after graduation. The letter's envelope would be sealed with a wax stamp of the boy's house or family crest.

Families played a crucial role in the courting process. Parents often had a say in their children's relationships, and the approval of both families was considered important.

If the father of the girl had approved of the young boy, courtship could commence. Most courtship was conducted exclusively in public places and always in the company of a chaperone. Note that I'm discussing romantic and not platonic relationships. Girls and boys were allowed to spend time together alone platonically, under the clear pretence they weren't courting.

The lovers weren't officially allowed to give their suitor any gifts without her parents being present during the exchange. Though it wasn't uncommon for boarding school students to hide lockets under their pillows and dried flowers in their journals, hoping the house-elves wouldn't find them. Flowers, fruit and non-explosive candy from Honeydukes were allowed to be given without supervision, as their perishable nature implied no greater enduring memorials.

With the many rules society put on courting teenagers, love letters were one way to escape the prim and proper manner at which they conversed. Love letters were considered sacred and sincere testaments to a couple’s love; such intimate correspondence was regarded with respect and a deep sense of privacy. A family member would never open a daughter’s or sister’s love letter. Upon receiving an owl she were to retire to her room to read its contents in private.

Often times girls would scent their letters with their perfume and moving portraits were popular attachments. Photography wasn't popularized in working-class families until the next century, yet witches quickly gossiped about conjuration spells that allowed them to take small polaroids of themselves. Boys would attach the dried flowers I mentioned earlier. The more experienced wizard could include a conjured paper butterfly or bird.

Staying at Hogwarts, students weren't allowed in the other gender's dormitories, so they resorted to explicit portraits and sneaky snogs in the Astronomy Tower or the Muggle Studies classroom. Gifting each other their scarf was a discreet way of "claiming" each other, though it was considered improper by the professors.

After having learned the disillusionment and silencing charms, teenagers were very eager to master Evanesco.

The more cunning wizards and witches of Hogwarts would sneak into the Restricted Section of the school's library to look for Muggle books that contained erotica in order to spice up their love letters and late-night encounters.

If allowed by her family, male students would accompany their date to the Yule Ball. They were instructed to never lose sight of her there and to not drink any alcohol in her presence. The couple was also required to arrive in separate carriages and left the event separately before midnight. The boy would walk his lover to her carriage or to her chaperone and bow his head to say goodnight.

As graduation approached, boys who were in the process of courting were sat down by their father figure who explained the importance of marriage. The boy was expected to start thinking of proposing to his lover.

Getting engaged.

Though courtships were short and often only lasted less than a year, engagements were commonly much longer, and usually lasted several years. This was especially the case for working-class couples, as they had to work to save money for the marriage.

Though boys were allowed to ask their girlfriends for their eternal love via an owl, it was much more proper to do so in person. It wasn't permitted to propose marriage with a ring, though they were often obligated by the families to officiate the engagement with one.

After the couple decided to get married, the boy was supposed to visit his future wife's house often. Visits were often made in the evening and when he came over, he needed to pay attention to everyone in the family, not just his fiancée. The goal was to slowly win over the family's affection, especially the girl's mother.

Engagement rings were a means of showing a boy's wealth. If he had worked at the workshops or had inherited some Galleons from his family, he could gift his lover a more intricately designed one. Rings ranged from a simple band to a collection of carved initials and differing gems.

Rings weren't often gifted to boys from their girlfriend, though if her fortune permitted it, she could have a custom wand handle made for him.

Gift giving became more frequent amongst the lovers, as did penning love letters, since the couple would be spending more time apart to work and earn money. Gifts were allowed to be given in private now too. Lockets were often (officially now) exchanged with a small enchanted cloud inside. The light represented the giver's mood: red meant anger, blue meant sadness, pink meant in love, green meant happy. A bewitched bouquet or a self-writing quill could also be thoughtful presents.

Once the couple got engaged, they were officially allowed to get closer to each other physically. No couple had the nerve to tell their parents they had probably already kissed and perhaps spent the night in their lover's dormitory already, and that they snuck out just before the prefects and house elves would catch them. Nevertheless, they were now officially allowed to go for walks by themselves, hold hands in public, and take rides without anyone accompanying them. They could also share a hug, a sweet kiss, or hold hands publicly now.

[thebibliosphere]

(ID provided in Alt)

Lore of the Wilds by Analeigh Sbrana -- available for pre-order now!

A Library with a deadly enchantment.

A fae lord who wants in.

A human woman willing to risk it all for a taste of power.

In a land ruled by ruthless Fae, twenty-one-year-old Lore Alemeyu's village is trapped in a forested prison. Lore knows that any escape attempt is futile–her scars are a testament to her past failures. But when her village is threatened, Lore makes a desperate deal with a fae lord.

She convinces him that she will risk her life for wealth, but really she’s after the one thing the Fae covet above all: magic of her own.

As Lore navigates the hostile world outside, she’s forced to rely on two fae males to survive. When undeniable chemistry ignites, she’s not just in danger of losing her life, but her heart to the very creatures she can never trust.

Release day September 5th, 2023

More pre-order links are incoming as they generate.

----------

Hey booklr! I'm posting this on behalf of my friend Analeigh Sbrana (@literaryxqueen on insta), who doesn't have a Tumblr. Her debut novel, Lore of the Wilds, went live for pre-order this morning, and I'd love it if we could show it some love.

Analeigh tried for two years to sell her story to trad-pub, but the vibe was that trad-pub didn't want to take the risk on a Black Fae fantasy adventure set in a breathtakingly descriptive magic kingdom in a market currently flooded with white fairy romances. So, she took matters into her own hands and joined the ranks of self-pub.

Full disclosure: I worked on this book as a proofreader, and I loved every minute of it. I kept forgetting I was supposed to be working and reading ahead. I scheduled a week to finish reading it in did it in 3 days, and the only reason it took so long was that I had to actually pause and work on it 😅.

So, if you like:

-🍄cottage core -✨fairy core -📚light/dark academia vibes -🌈a diverse cast of lgbtqia+ Black characters -💘romance -🧝🏾‍♀️ being kidnapped by a fairy prince to tidy up his cursed/enchanted library and coming into your own magical powers as a result, then Lore of the Wilds might just be for you!

Here, have a sneak peek of what the physical books will look like:

(ID in alt) The book will eventually be available in eBook, paperback, and hardback--Ana's just having a time getting the links to generate. I'll post them as soon as they're live.

Please do consider giving LoTW some love. It's such a fantastic book, and I'd love to see it thrive where trad-pub left it to fail. Thank you 💖

[reeniecon]

- YOU'RE A GIRL??! -

Riddle roseheart, Trey clover, cater diamond, ace trappola , deuce spade.

----------------------------------------------------------

😮‍💨‼️ : fem reader, imperfect grammar

A/n: this is a remake/rewrite from my OLD OLD Fanfic in my old blog ( I hate that writing so much I want to puke)

My other fanfic

----------------------------------------------------------

Riddle roseheart

" [Name] I beg of you to do not ignore rule 534, you've broken that rule 2 times already... I won't be easy on you for the 3rd time " Riddle remained you gently (passive-aggressive actually)

" As I read the rule book and searched about rule 534 it writes here that a woman is an exception in this rule!! So yeah~ "

But you're not a-

...

WAIT

WHAT

WHAT DID YOU SAY???! A WOMAN CAN WHAT, HUH DOES THAT MEAN THAT YOU'RE A WOMAN?

How this is a boy's boarding school how did you get here???!!

Not only that you're a magicless student but also a woman? ( in all-boys schools)

Ah, you must have felt so uncomfortable...

Ugh, what did the magic mirror do...

After that day riddle pays closer attention to you

He wants you to be comfortable at least he can assure you that in his own dormitory

Ah did Ace and Deuce know about this already??

Are they being mean to you??

Ugh, are you okay with this???

" [Name] let me know if there is something that bothering you... Uh- I hope you can feel the most comfortable in heartslabyul with me... "

Cater diamond

" Awww.. C'mon why did the sky choose to rain now ~ we might missed our movie! " Cater complaining

" Not only missed the movie we might also have to watch the movie drenched, look cater look how drenched we are "

This is supposed to be one of the happiest nights you and Cater have!!

You and he got a free ticket for Vil's new movie!!

The movie was literally trending EVERYWHERE ON THE INTERNET

It's really impossible to get the ticket right now!! But Vil being the awesome friend he was gifted the tickets

FOR FREE!!

And now here we are drenched in front of the mall with cater

Cool, cool so awesome!!

" This is so unfortunate isn't it but surely this would be such an unforgettable memory right [name ] " He said with the usual smile on his face " Why don't we take a picture together this would be an awesome post don't you think " He Suggested

* click* * click*

" #vilnewmovie #badday #icannotbeliveit #catty #whatshouldwedo? And lastly- " Huh.. What's that? He zoomed in on your side of the pic

Oh.

OH

HUH????

" What's wrong cater? Are you going to post it? " U asked him " Ah no, hahaha I'm going to post it later ig. Because you know uh.. The the uh THE INTERNET yeah the internet is so sloww~~ I will post it when we go back~~"

HOW COULD HE POST THE PHOTO

When your... Uh- tops? Tops holder? Shown faintly....

ARGHHHH !!!

did everyone know this already?? Are he the only one who doesn't know yet?? How how how how how

And more questions coming to cater head one hundred by one hundred

What should he do now...

He drapes his coat around you.

" Here use this you might catch a cold~ haha... Ha... Ha. Be careful okay... " He awkwardly says with that flushed face he tries to cover

Trey clover

He knows from the start

Trey is the mom of the group, and he is a really careful man, to begin with

We will OBSERVE you even before you start to hang out with other heartslabyul members

So yep, he knows!!

How did he know you ask?

He eavesdropping on Crowley (accidentally ofc he's a good boy!!)

I felt like he would "accidentally" heard you ranting to Crowley about being the only girls there

I don't think anyone would not be surprised at this situation tbh

But he is the most sweetest guy you've ever met in NRC

I can feel his girl's dad's aura through the screen tbh

He would bake you your favorite cake, teach you how to bake things if you ask him to~

Totally the most helpful guy in the heartslabyul dormitory even in NRC!!

Please marry us Trey we want you TwT

" Hm? Pardon me [mame] I didn't quite catch you...Can you please repeat it? Ah- you want to bake together? Ofc I'll teach you okay <3 "

Ace trappola

....

How

HOW COULD HE NOT HAVE KNOWN ABOUT THIS SOONER????

IS HE YOUR BEST FRIEND??? HUH DON'T YOU CONSIDER HIM YOUR BSF???

" ah... Now What. What is this soap opera plot... My best friend who I've known for YEARS ( you only know her at least only for 6 months you dramatic ass) is a girl??? Why can't you tell me sooner..." He rolls his eyes, not facing you at all, you cannot help but sigh at the situation " Cannot help it yk Crowley told me to keep it a secret it's for my safety too" You explained while trying to face him " Is gender really that life-changing to you ace in our friendship? " You asked him while your head hanging low

OF COURSE IT IS???

Bro, AGRHHHHH HE CANNOT WITH YOU RIGHT NOW

HE THINKS THAT HE IS RLLY GAY ALL THIS TIME

BECAUSE

OF

YOU!!

He went on an identity crisis on this

ahh... How can you do this to him...

'Did Deuce already know this too? AGRH SO ANNOYING I want to punch him... '

"No no no no you don't get it [name] uh... Your gender didn't mean anything in our friendship but it matters in our other relationship... " He says his voice cracking on the last sentence hiding his redness

Deuce spade

----------------------------------------------------------

" No deuce we cannot go to the hot springs together, you go with ace okay"

" Huh, why not it's not fun [name] if we're not together !! " His eyes wide open smiling all over the place " YOU STUPID, ofc she cannot go with us??? " Ace interfering with the conversation

She?

Why did Ace use she?

[Name] is a boy so wh-

Ah

Ah

No way

NO WAY NO WAY

" I'M SO SORRY I DON'T KNOW [NAME] PLEASE FORGIVE ME, DID UH- DID I MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE??? in a uh jn any way??? " He bowed down his forehead and touched the cold hot spring wood. " HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING DEUCE GET UP FAST YOU'RE EMBARRASSING US " Ace Hurriedly tried to get Deuce off the floor but Deuce seemed like he was glued to it...

" I'm sorry I'm so sorry, I just make a unforgivable mistake [name] forgive me!! " Still half bowed

" Deuce!! Get up !! "

A/N: my old fanfic is batshit crazy, 0 to work with no plot, you must read the old one tbh it's really cheesy, it's either involves water and water same plot over and over again, and I really hate it tbh, I wrote that fanfic when I was in... 8th grade??? Now I'm in 12th grade kekw so cringed.

Old fanfic

A/N 2.0: sorry for the incostistent writing length for each of the characters!! I cannot take it anymore with this prompt tbh- it's kinda cute in some way but- it get me the ick everytime when I try to reference my old fic TwT

[idiaa-shroxd]

THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ dormleaders. ❞

SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?

warnings; gn!reader x dormleaders. long post. the keep reading line may repeat a bit of text, but please continue reading if it does. inspired by this video. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii.

PROLOGUE.

“Are you really sure about this, Henchman?” Grim asks, crossing his arms as he huffs, jealousy laced in his voice. He was used to your occasional strange idea, but he considered something to be sincerely wrong with you at the moment if you thought bringing other stray cats into his territory were a smart idea, not to mention the way you were cuddling them and scratching their bellies. Where did you even find this many cats? Did you make a deal with Azul?

Puffing your cheek slightly, you ignore your cat’s comment while putting the collar on the last one. “Do you want to have fancy tuna?” You reply, fixing the collar’s bow as you smile at your hard work. “You’re not believing in me, Grim. This is an untapped market potential, in case you forgot we have a whole dorm here at school dedicated to gamers and introverts practically. And you know what they like? Cats and silence!” You tell him as you look at your array of cats.

You’d found yourself surprised that Professor Trein actually entertained your question if he knew where to find cats on sage island, even more so when Crowley eventually relented to letting you keep a few cats in exchange for not bringing up the fact you’ve been through how many overblots against him for awhile. This was a chance you could not lose. “There’s cat cafe’s in my world with relatively simple rules and a quiet atmosphere. We simply need to make it a reality, and lucky for us we have a magical furniture tool and an investor.” You say, getting up from the chair and walking toward your little notebook to check off another item off the list.

“You have an investor?” He asked, not quite believing you as he raised a brow. Hearing his disbelief you chuckle a little, pointing your pen at a corner of the room to which he jumps in surprise, letting out a shock ‘nyagh!’ “Idia has been here for the past two hours, ever since I told him what I was going to do. I don’t know how or why he has money, but he has it and that’s enough for me.” You say, Grim still surprised he hadn’t notice Idia once in well over two hours. He still wasn’t convinced on your plan, but if it got him tuna and money, your plan surely can’t be that bad?

HEARTSLABYUL. riddle rosehearts.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

“Are there any rules I need to follow while I’m here?” Riddle asks, a little antsy as it were his first time in a room with so many cats before. It were against the queen’s rules to bring cats to a formal affair, but this wasn’t too formal, it were a cafe. And you did get explicit permission from the headmage so indulging in you just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? With a laugh, you point in the direction of one of the walls with the rules on display next to a signed plaque from the headmaster giving his approval to your whims.

“The rules are really simple. No forcing or disturbing the cats, do not go around picking them up, do not let them have your drinks, and refrain from running around and making too much noise. Outside drinks, food, and shoes are not permitted for sanitary reasons. You can only feed the cats treats sold by the prefect or in the gacha machines, and you have to log in which cat you’ve fed to ensure one cat doesn’t get particularly overweight.” You read off the board the rundown as he nodded, determined to follow the rules. As he stepped inside your now transformed guest room, his eyes sparkled as one of the cats immediately begun purring at him. Perhaps a cat cafe truly wasn’t too bad a place.

Riddle was really weary of your little project when you first told him about it. He really stopped lecturing you after you explained you had all the proper permission and even an investor. He had no idea who on campus would help you with this, but after hearing it were Idia he thought that maybe you were actually a bit more serious than he realized about your cat cafe plans. He takes awhile to convince to actually come, but after maybe seeing a picture you text him of the kitties with the caption, “I want Riddle to play with me!” he concedes ever so slightly into your demands.

His eyes light up in genuine happiness as little cats meow at his feet. His only other real experience with cats was Grim as his mother would not let him near them, but now he understands what the appeal to cats is about. They’re all so soft and he may use an occasional toy, but he also gets to hear their affection purrs as they nudge him nearly making him forget why he was so angry just ten minutes prior when he was collaring a student again. He isn’t a regular since he’s busy, but whenever you happen to ask he tries to make time, only because you’ve asked him to or his dorm members ask him to visit, not because he’s succumbed to being a cat person, he says, lying through his teeth.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) shorthair with pure dark grey fur and orange-yellow eyes. He wasn’t too sure how to act around the cats but this one plopped it’s chubby body onto his lap while nipping at his hand demanding to be pet while meowing right to his face and Riddle could not say no to that face. The cat is not as furry as the others and he quite prefers that, less hair to clean off of his clothes. He thought he would of preferred a less demanding cat, but Sesame is very calming and distracting for his anger. He at some point also noticed cat collar’s slightly changing and asked you about it.. and you found a gift from him, more specifically Sesame received a gift. His previous yellow collar replaced with a higher quality rose-red collar with white outlines of rose petals engravings. Now instead of a silent bell he had a rose attached to the front of the collar, and at the back of the collar was a bow designed to resemble leaf petals.

Absolutely plays favorites, he’s still a bit weary for long haired cats to approach him but won’t tell them to go away, and he always feels guilty if he pets a cat that is not Sesame. He would be willing to buy cat popsicles and cat treats on occasion but tries not to overly them as he knows you’re trying to not get them to be overweight and stay within a healthy range. He’s also able to get some work done when he visits, though not too often as his cat takes up most of his time and does not like him to share his attention with his paperwork, deliberately plopping down onto the paper if he deems he has not received enough attention. You could probably get away with asking him a single stupid question while he is relaxed. Only one, so use that question wisely.

Overall is a good guest since he keeps quiet to himself and his cat, and if he’s talking he’s really quiet about it since he respects your rules. He follows every single one to heart, not only that but also makes sure other guests are taking it to heart as well.

SAVANACLAW. leona kingscholar.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

“Shut up, herbivore.” The beastmen hissed as you tried to hide your overly smug expression. “I haven’t even said anything yet, Kingscholar.” You tease as he opens one of his eyes and snarls at you in a nonthreatening manner, one hand running through his hair as the other runs his fingers through the fur of the sleeping cat on his chest, unable to stop you from taking pictures without disturbing said cat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” You can’t help but snicker as you snap another photo of the annoyed beastman. You were definitely going to post this on your magicam story when you were free. Distracted by your phone, you fail to notice his ears twitching ever so slightly as he looks away from you, his face just a little bit darker in color than before as he shuts his eyes, going back to sleep.

Leona had no interest in being friendly with a bunch of strays you brought in from who knows where. He actually laughed in your face the first time you offered him some coupon to your cat cafe, he had no interest being near rowdy students. That was until he had the most annoying day alive, a conversation twice with Malleus in a single hour and he used you as his stress relief, nearly knocking you onto the floor as he plopped onto you after following you into your cat cafe.

No one else was there as you hadn’t opened, and he understood the appeal. The room wasn’t overcool with regulated temperatures perfect for a cat, with dim lighting and soft music. You even had different parts of your cafe for different guests as you place him onto one of the longer sofas, finally getting him off of you as you poor him a drink and listen to his complaint. At some point he had a group of cats just laying on him and purring against him and snuggling and he’s fallen asleep, not waking up until you inform him you’re closing for the night, and not to move too abruptly with the cat still sleeping on his chest.

His favorite cat had claimed him during their first fateful encounter, being a persian breed. The cat is very fluffy with creamy white fur and golden eyes, enjoying swaying her tail against Leona’s nose and kneading at his chest, arms, feet, wherever she gets her paws on. She does not enjoy being disturbed but does enjoy the occasional pet and spends most of her time just napping with Leona and pawing at him. He claims the cat is noisy every once in awhile but he can be seen petting her with one hand as the other shields his eyes as he lays down, letting her purr against him. He flat out told you he was replacing her stupid black collar with a new one, a brown silk collar that’s just a tad bit loose, with a few golden engravings and a beautiful bow on the back in a lighter brown and golden moons. Nebula also gets cat popsicles every once in awhile that he gets Ruggie to buy from you.

He is used to a bunch of different cats crawling over him as they seem to naturally approach him, and he’s very smug about that to Malleus, but he does have his favorite. Nebula is his number one cat and he will pick her up even though you have a no disturbing the cats rule and he will place her beside him as he has a drink as he lays down in his unofficial spot while she climbs atop him and goes to take a nap. He’s not jealous but he just does not allow other people to touch his cat is all. Whenever you come over to bring him a drink he’s trying to pull you down and shamelessly puts an arm around you as you ignore his clinginess and return back to your cats and cafe. May use a cat toy on occasion but not when you are watching because you get a stupid grin and ask him if he feels like pawing at the toy and he tries not to leave you on a street corner.

Overall a horrible guest but a decent guest. He definitely does not follow every rule and acts grumpy but he’s very quiet except the occasional snore. He will also take a very long time to leave because you need to scratch his ears because he’s not “fully awake”. But in terms of cat parenting he’s a pretty good guest.

OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

“So… do you still want to complain?” You ask, raising a brow as you stare at the bespectacled boy with a smug grin. He swore that there was zero charm to a cat cafe and that you stole his business from him just two weeks ago, but now he had a cup of coffee between his fingers sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, a purring cat on his lap with documents on the table spread out as he worked. Azul’s face flustered a slight tint of red as he let out a small cough much to your and the twin’s amusement.

“That was the past, prefect. We found a way to make this arrangement mutual benefitting now, no need to bring up old problems.” He tries to sound professional as you snicker. Two weeks ago was not really a distant past, but you did work thing out. “Whenever you want a refill just let me know, I’ll leave you guys alone for now, I’ve got more to do.” You say, deciding not to tease the octomer further as you retreat back into the kitchen, leaving him to be teased by his two ‘friends’.

Azul had stormed into your establishment one day with a single goal in mind, to figure out how you had stolen his business. He came perplexed, how were you allowed cats on campus? Where did you get the money for renovation? Who was your supplier? Most importantly why did everyone favor the prefect’s cat cafe over the Monstro Lounge with quality service and quality food?

He had sat you down trying to be scary but you ended up putting him. You had offered him a proposal of a collaboration. If anyone orders a special item off the Monstro Lounge menu that day before coming into your cafe they’d be eligible to receive a little something from your cafe for free such as a cat popsicle or an extra thirty minutes added onto their time. He was weary at first but people came to the Monstro Lounge as though they were giving away free money as they came in groups. You both benefitted from this as you did not want food near your kitties that weren’t for them as that posed health and safety issues. He doesn’t know how but he also finds himself on occasion coming to your cafe during breaks as it was surprisingly calming despite his absolute hatred for these innocent cats when he originally entered.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) longhair with dark orange-esque fur with a fluffy white front and light blue eyes. He has no clue as to how but somehow this cat became his favorite as he purred against Azul’s shoes, nudging at him before eventually crawling into his lap. The cat makes little disturbance as Azul works, the purring soothing the octomer as he finishes up, occasionally finding his sleeves being tugged at when Butterscotch declares he’s been working enough by demanding pats. Butterscotch has also found himself on the end of receiving a lot of cat popsicles recently, and a collar upgrade. His collar went from a plain leathery texture to some high quality collar blue collar with tentacle engravings, and a sea patterned bowtie at the front of the collar, the center being a pretty shell.

He entertains other cats but keeps an eye out for his favorite, always reserving his lap space just for him. He mainly spends his time at the cafe after a large rush or when he has time off to work in the silence with his cat instead of the silence of his office. He actually finds himself working a lot faster in your cafe than all alone and he gets free refills on his coffee, so technically he is profiting than if he used his own supply, he justifies to himself. When he finishes work he may on occasion be found talking to you attempting to flirt poorly as you remain oblivious as he has no interest in manga or gaming. May occasionally be found brushing his favorite kitty’s fur and telling him he is going to become fat like he once was then still feeding him the treat regardless because he is very polite.

Overall is a very good guest as long as he has his kitty. Gets a bit antsy if he has to spend his time without his favorite as though he had been replaced but does not cause a scene or whine. Please make sure before you close he gets to squish his cat’s paw and knows he has not been replaced with a different cat dad.

SCARABIA. kalim al-asim.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

“Aha, prefect! Could I have another cat treat, please?” Kalim pleaded with you as you shake your head, doing your best at giving the puppy eyed dorm leader a firm no. He already had two today, that was enough. “But look at Taffy, she’s starving!” He says as you raise a brow, staring at the cat that was getting plumper by the day.

“Kalim, I love you like my actual child but no more. She’s even eating the other cat’s leftovers now at lunch time.” You scold the boy as he apologizes and pleads he will stop after maybe just one more treat as you sigh, putting your foot down and eyeing Jamil pleadingly who only pretends he can’t see you as he plays with his cat. “I’ll even pay four times the amount!” He said, pouting as you shook your head, ready to dive into the same discussion you’ve had with him the past three days.

Two hours, that is how long it took for Kalim to hear about your business venture and ask, beg, you to let him see. Apparently Idia had told Ortho who told the board game club members and word got around to Cater and Cater told him and Lilia and now he was bouncing off the walls in excitement with Jamil in tow. He was already prepared to meet the kitties and Jamil said it was okay so could you please go now? When he hears that there’s rules to follow he listens intently and follows them as best as he can remember, but he’s just so excited about the cats and trying your drinks! Also looking at the interior and more. Wait you also have gaming pcs and manga? He has to check those out too! His hyperactiveness could not be contained and you were a little concerned for the cats.

You were right to assume Kalim could not be contained for more than two seconds as he pspspspss at all of the kitties, toy in both hands as he was already playing with them, cats crawling on his lap and nudging at him, biting at him playfully and surrounding him as he held a cat popsicle out towards them, talking your’s and Jamil’s ears off about how fluffy and wonderful of a place this is. He had to tell every single person in his dorm about it, and his family, and people from other dorms as well, this was the greatest place on campus so far! Do you also need help buying the cat food or anything? He’d be willing to be another investor in a heartbeat but Jamil talks him out of it, partially. His favorite thing is official a cat in his lap as he drinks your own tea brew that he gifted you from his country… which may cost more than your entire life.

His favorite cat is a maine coon with black fur and green eyes. This cat has the world’s finest at her fingertips if she just meows. Kalim knows it’s wrong to pick favorites but he can’t deny that she is his favorite when she headbutts his chin and meows at him for minutes at a time even if he’s petting her. She’s extremely fluffy and starting to become pudgier but he doesn’t mind that as he gets her more treats. Her pink collar has long since been discarded as she now has a full wardrobe, but her collar is now the finest white silk and handmade embroidery with real gemstones and solid gold for the silent bell. Even the bow on the back of the collar is large and beautiful, she’s worth more than the students that actually visit the cafe and you hope you aren’t robbed.

Kalim does play favorites but also doesn’t. Things are very clear he has a favorite cat but he will play with any and every cat that approaches him. He respects your do not disturb the cat rule, really, but he just really wants to pet every single kitty. He always says he wants to try one of the pcs but ends up forgetting as he works on his homework failing to pay attention while petting Taffy and giving her kisses and then eventually falling asleep because he’s all tired out. He has read a few of the mangas but he reads it to Taffy specifically and Jamil has to remind him to be quiet for your other guests. He may have also asked his family to visit your cafe so you may be visited by one of the world’s richest couple in the future when the campus opens for outside guests.

Overall a great guest for the cats but a nightmare for you as he looks like a sad puppy when you refuse to let him buy treats. Also occasionally forgets and makes a loud noise when he enters and sees his favorite cat, and he can be a little distracting because he can’t sit still for too long at times.

POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

“When in Twisted Wonderland did this happen..?” You mutter to yourself as you brewed another cup of tea for Vil using the brand he specifically gave you for himself when he visited. He was adamantly refusing to even set foot in your guest room after hearing what you had done, but now Rook was taking a photo of him elegantly sitting down in one of your lounge chairs with a cat on his lap, purring loudly looking at the camera as though she understood how to pose and was a natural born model.

You bring the tea over to his table as he thanks you, lifting the cup and saucer elegantly as Rook takes a photo, already singing praises on how great it would look on his magicam as Vil looks confidently smug. You couldn’t believe this all happened just because Rook had said something about Neige and how cute it would be for a boy like him to be surrounded by cats. “Thank you for your patronage.” You say with a small smile on your lips, amused. Well at least a happy Vil is free promotion for your business on campus.

Vil was happy for you, really, but he was not going to visit the cat cafe even if you pleaded by his feet and rose someone from beyond this mortal realm to drag him in. That was until he heard Rook talking to you and Epel about how Neige would surely be so beautiful surrounded with cats and you agreeing and throwing in a comment about how it would make him seem more likeable and relatable. He knew Rook was a Neige fanboy but he couldn’t have you converting into one too, are you forgetting he’s the fairest of them all, and the only celebrity you should praise like that? If it is relatability you truly desire he can spare one afternoon at your cat cafe since he needs to check up on the place his dorm members have been spending their time at recently to ensure it is up to Pomefiore standard.

He originally looked as though he was going to fight one of the cats with how he was trying to mentally tell the long haired cats to stay away from him. He was so intimidating to even the cats that none were willing to approach him but one, a very snooty girl that begun pawing at his ankles, jumping up into his lap and kneading him as she claimed her seat. He found her demeanor pleasantly charming as she wasn’t that furry and she was good enough, he thought. He managed to get some high quality photos that did trend on magicam for the rare domestic sight of the Vil Schoenheit and a cat. It was surprisingly soothing for him and he did eventually come back where the cat once again claimed him as her’s.

His favorite cat is a siamese with cream white fur and black siamese patterns and bright blue eyes. She’s rather thin and does not shed fur all over his lap like some of the other cats. He makes sure to keep her fur shiny as he brushes her down and uses some toys on her. He refrains from often buying treats as she doesn’t seem fond of them and he doesn’t want her to be too overfed, a model should keep a strict diet. Her collar was replaced without even informing you, the old white one did not fit his or apparently her standard so he simply had to replace it for her. It was a pretty fancy dark blue color with golden engravings in the pattern of pomefiore’s insignias, a purely custom design, with a pretty bow in front, with a silent bell. It’s hard to believe she was ever a stray at one point.

He does not entertain most of the other cats beyond looking at them as he pets Iris. He knows his cat is a complete snob and will likely not entertain other guests, perched up high in her cat tree bed until he comes along so he would never cheat on her with being another cat’s dad. He has full faith that he is the only one that she will ever go to so he does try to stop by every once in awhile to make sure she’s getting the attention and grooming that is needed for a cat of her standard. He’s not into your gaming pcs or your manga corners, but does appreciate you do have school textbooks to borrow and a quiet study nook so that he can elegantly pet Iris with a cup of fine tea while doing his assignments as Rook fawns over them.

Overall a very good guest as long as you leave him alone. Follows your rules, does not talk loudly or much, and goes above and beyond with taking care of your cat that you begin to think it’s actually his cat he’s just letting you keep. You’re a little concerned he may just tell you he’s taking your cat with him once you graduate, but he is a rather good cat dad, at least!

IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.

IDIA SHROUD.

“I-di-a” You coo, bending down and whispering in the ear of the man currently on the floor, two cats surrounding him as he feeds them cat treats. The blue haired boy physically jolts upwards letting out a small whimper of utter shock of being spoken to as you chuckle. “Are you having fun?” You ask as he blushes, looking away from you as he turns his attention back to the cat pawing at his pant leg. “Ehehe, this is even better than watching the series finale to an anime live.” He whispers as one of the orange kitties crawls into his arms, headbutting him.

“You flatter me, glad to know you think so highly of my hard work. Ahem, our hard work.” You say as you pick up the other kitty, fixing their collar as you lightly run your fingers through the cat’s fur. Giving the cat a kiss to his nose and boop, you set him back down as you notice Idia staring at you only to blush insanely red as he looked away quickly from being caught. “Thank you for your hard work… prefect.” He quickly whispers much to your amusement.

Idia has become the number one patron. From the second class ends to the time you close for the evening Idia is right there petting the kitties. He’d actually volunteered to work for free, not as a waiter or anything but as a sort of cat playmate. He’d make sure the cats are satisfied and not bored and no one can touch him or look at him, but you said no, he needs to share the cats.

He’s the reason your wifi is amazing despite your run down dorm, and he makes sure absolutely everything regarding technology is perfect. It took him a bit to understand what you want and why that was necessary beyond you just saying cat cafes in your world have these things, but he understands what bliss is now. Anytime some machine seems even remotely broken he fixes it at a record pace.

His favorite cat had claimed him awhile back. A pure white ragamuffin that is extremely fluffy. The cat is extremely docile and she’d claim her spot in his lap, purring as he’d read manga or play on one of the cafe pcs, occasionally nibbling his finger when he squirms too much from gamer rage. Her original collar was a nice shade of orange, but he not so subtly changed it into one he got. A pretty light baby blue shade with small jewel engravings, a little silent bell at the front with a pretty bow on the back with golden stripes. You are partially convinced he genuinely does believe Ivory is his firstborn child.

He does play with other cats but has a favorite. He always pays for one cat popsicle a day at minimum to feed the cats and pays for other cat treats whenever he can because he is weak. He also is rigged at crane games so he can easily snack through the day never leaving the cafe. There are occasions you tell him stop feeding human snacks to the cat, they will get chubby. He ends up looking super offended on behalf of the kitties you dare said any one of them are chubby. When he’s not pampering the cats you can find him gaming in one of the pcs, grinding through an event. At moments like these do not approach him and leave him alone so he can forget he is actually in public and not his bedroom.

Overall a very respectful guest. He’s quiet, makes sure to respect the boundaries of the cats and the rules you’d set up, and does not cause any scenes. The only issue is getting him to leave may be a little difficult as he tries to give one more kiss… Or that he tries to come on your days off just to keep the little babies company. there’s also the occasion every so often that you can feel his gaze on you, only for you to catch him as he hides his face, the tips of his hair turning pink as he watches you work.

DIASOMNIA. malleus draconia.

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

“Child of man, could I please have one of those.. cat ice creams I believe they’re called?” Tsunotarou asked, eyes sparkling ever so slightly in childlike wonder as you let out a charming laugh, handing him a popsicle that was specifically made for cats to eat. He had always been fond on ice cream but now he had the ability to share it with someone else he liked, the cat that had claimed him a few weeks ago.

“Just one though, we don’t want to feed them too much now.” You say but know it will fall on deaf ears as you didn’t wish to ruin his fun. You didn’t think he had experience with cats before so you were pleasantly surprised one of your cats had practically claimed him, but it all worked out. “Worry not child of man, I won’t give him too many treats. Though I’m sure if I too were eating your cooking right now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself either.” Flustered by his comment, you leave him to play with the cat as you retreat behind the counter, he really was dangerous for reasons different than rumors.

He heard about your business venture from Lilia and was ready to pay a visit not caring if he scared off your guests but halted in his tracks when he heard you telling Sebek you were going to invite him. His mind tells him he has won the lottery and he retreats to fix his outfit waiting in the lounge for an hour until you reach Diasomnia’s doorsteps to speak with him. He is not listening as you greet him with a hug and tell him you’d like for him to come to Ramshackle for a surprise. Something about you also not opening the cafe today so it’d just be you and him so he’d be comfy, there’s really no reason to try and continue speaking he’s been charmed for over an hour, prefect.

He practically vibrates from sheer joy as he’s frozen, then rapidly shaking, then beaming as a cat waltzes up to him as though he owns the prince. He basically blue screens momentarily as the cat with such soft fur and pure innocent eyes meows up at him, pawing at his feet to be picked up. He picks up the cat as you watch curiously, finally figuring out he wasn’t listening to you at all as he stares at the cat’s eyes and then your’s. “Our child is beautiful.” He says as you raise a brow, shrugging it off as you tell him you’d brew him a black coffee and to sit wherever he would like. He instead chooses to sit at the counter bar, watching you and the cat that’s on his lap nipping at his fingers and demanding his attention as well. For the first time in awhile he feels as though something doesn’t fear him other than you.

His favorite cat is a ragdoll cat with white fur and black splotches and deep blue eyes. He claims this cat is your child and you have no idea what he’s thinking of but he seems happy as he shamelessly pulls out a cat toy and plays with him. Also slightly insults the cat by calling him brave or stupid as though a cat can comprehend what he means while mewling at him. Also asks you if he can also have a custom collar after Lilia tells him about his cat, and after you allow him to replace the old red collar he’s excited. Black is the color of royalty in the briar valley and Oatmeal has the privilege of wearing it on his new collar. A pretty black collar with green wings beside a silent bell that may be made of actual gold, along with a little dragon hood-cape and short plush horns you got him so your boys match.

Very possessive of Oatmeal. He will applaud other cats if they dare approach him but everyone knows he has a bias. He practically has been claimed by his cat and no one else is brave enough to go near his cat and no cat is brave enough to approach him, they are a perfect match. He has tried to take your cat back to Diasomnia but you have to remind him that the cat stays with you, he needs a proper schedule, friends, and he needs to stop being fed so many treats. He’s also incredibly smug about it and will come to the cafe on your off days as he talks to you petting Oatmeal and glaring at Leona on the opposite couch who’s busy petting Nebula but refrains from getting physical or suffer your wrath. You’d kicked both men out for an entire weekend.

Overall a good guest personally, but his reputation may cause some people to be scared of visiting. Regardless, he’s very polite to you and treats his cat very good, making sure to give him treats and enough exercise with a toy. May also overpay for coffee and start fights with Leona when you aren’t even open yet. In fact, how on earth did the two of them even get into your cafe? You literally just woke up and they’re spitting insults at one another.

EPILOGUE.

“Fnaygh! I guess I really am a business genius, Henchman.” Grim said as he dug into a can of fancy tuna, one that you had bought without having to worry about your budget for once. You expected success from Ignihyde students, but it seemed like your little business venture went above and beyond with students from all different dorms trying to be booking ahead of time and trying to visit your cat cafe.

“Right right, you’re the genius, Grim.” You laugh in response to your friend as you finished checking on the other cats, finishing up for the evening. In terms of profit, almost every single day you were fully packed with as much people you’d allow in at once, and you had to temporarily increase the charging rates. Despite the increase people still begun to visit, who knew the school filled with villainous kids would be so excited to pet some cats? Especially your regulars, they adored these cats enough they got the cats gift, not you, but the cat.

It was tough work to manage the guest room cafe all by yourself though, you had to admit to yourself. Perhaps you should take up Ace’s offer and idea at hiring some part time employees, your first year friends had already offered, so maybe you’d start training them for help?

a bit of a long post but i have had this thought for awhile ever since reading Idia’s guest room lines? So I figured I would just turn my headcanon into an actual written work. I have more ideas though for a separate post, but I am unsure if I’ll post it, but I do need to share my thought’s of Floyd’s favorite cat being a sphynx cat named prune that is very vocal and has a cozy ugly little sweater that Floyd likes to bathe with you.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny, I recently found ur page and have been binge reading ur posts, you’re so good!! I have a big order. Peach cake, Red velvet cupcake and a pound cake with strawberries. With a side of with dark hot chocolate and a glass of water, George Russell🙈… if it’s too many details do it however you want bcuz your writing is amazing <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love getting orders! i accept more than just formula one so i'm always happy to try different fandoms. so please! check it out! and thank you lovely anon, i'm happy you love my work! and thank you for submitting a george russell order because i've gotten people asking for him! so thank you! i hope you love it <3

peach cake: ("if you spill a drop, we start all over.") + red velvet cupcake: ("if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one.") + pound cake with strawberries: ("you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again.") + dark hot chocolate: (sub!reader) + glass of water: (aftercare) served by george russell (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sub!reader & dom!george, rules & punishments, spanking, sparkling water, jealousy, aftercare, doggy style,

"you're so lucky, honestly he sounds like a prince charming!" you once heard from someone when you were talking about your boyfriend, "george just seems like such a sweet guy. like he double checked to make sure that roses wouldn't make your cat sick? most guys can barely get flowers!"

you felt your ears burn at her words and nervously played with the bracelet around your left wrist. there was on charm on it, letter 'g' for your beloved. your boyfriend, your biggest fan.

your dom, george russell.

but even men who looked like princes in fairy tales could be a little jealous. george often appeared himself to be a very sweet guy, who'd never actually hurt someone. he was a force on the track and would do what he needed to win, but he'd never put his hands on another driver. he'd never get in their face or try to get violent.

but as he watched lando norris try his hardest to pick you up, george really wanted to knock some sense into the driver. just because a woman didn't wear a neon sign that said 'taken', it didn't mean they were free game to flirt with.

and you, the future mrs. russell, should know better. even though the weight of the bracelet you wore wasn't too much. he hoped that it was enough of a reminder to behave. listen to the rules that george had laid out for you.

when lando touched your bare arm, and you stepped back a little. george knew that he had to step in. he was at your side rather quickly, smiling at lando. he wrapped an arm around you.

"see you've met my girlfriend, mate." he smiled, putting all of his charm into it, "i was looking for her." his hand snaked to your ass and you gave it a firm squeeze. you weren't off the hook.

"oh this is-" lando looked at you, "i didn't recognize her, mate. i'm so sorry!"

george was a little unconvinced when he replied,"yeah, a haircut can do that." even though you hadn't styled your hair differently in years. george didn't get too aggressive with the fellow driver because now that he was close to him, he could see that the drink in his hand was large and his stance implied it wasn't the first one of the evening.

but, george made sure that you didn't have a drop of alcohol. so while lando was drunk, you were well aware of the rules that your dom had set for you. the driver leaned to your ear and said, ""you know i hate going over rules, but just because i like seeing you embarrassed, i'll tell you them again."

and you swallowed, knowing you'd get a lecture when your boyfriend steered you away from the drunken racer. you felt the tip of your ears grow hot and you played with the bracelet. despite how nervous you felt, george was all smiles as he told lando to have a good night.

as you walked away, your lover's voice was hot in your ear, "no flirting. remember? you are mine, and i don't need other men getting their hands on you." he held you by the back. he kissed your cheek softly, "when rules are broken, there are punishments." this was part of your dynamic.

you knew there would be a punishment when you got home and you were right. a bottle of sparkling water from the grocery store was opened. and with you on your knees, opened your mouth. this was a punishment of endurance and being unbreakable. george poured a mouthful in your mouth then closed your jaw. he said, "if you spill a drop, we start all over."

you nodded before you got up onto your feet. your legs shaky as he put the bottle down on the nightstand. you held the water in your mouth as you got over his lap. you could feel his hard cock against your stomach. the goal of the punishment was to hold the water in your mouth even if the carbonation made your eyes run. and george spanked you for every infraction you did.

"you're a whore." he said as he rubbed your bare ass. he stripped you down to nothing as soon as you got home. you were to be laid out naked for him. he on the other hand was still in the shirt and slacks fro the party. it only added to the dynamic, you were exposed for him while he got to stay dressed. he slapped your ass, "you're a whore, you let norris get his hands all over you. you know if you let him suck on your pretty breasts or fuck your poor pussy, you'd be thrown away by the next day." he landed another spank across your ass.

you whimpered, trying to hold the water in your mouth. the spanks made it hard to not choke on it or have to drip out of your mouth. the bubbles of it made you feel discomfort in your face. but you had to be good.

"but not me. i'd never do that to you." he said softly, "you are my treasure. you know there's rules, that you have to be well behaved for me. or else we're going to have problems. you're my girlfriend, my love, my submissive." he landed a few more spanks across your ass, he watched your body shake with each of his slaps. but you didn't spill a drop.

the knowledge of that made george smile to himself. it wasn't hard to train you to be an amazing sub, you were always so eager to make him proud. you took your punishments with grace. he landed a few more smacks across your ass, "but you are my whore in the end. my responsibility to teach and fuck." he groped your bruised ass which made you whine.

you kicked out your legs as if you were trying to say that you weren't a whore. that you were a good girl, but it was only met with another hard smack across your cheeks. you arched your back and whined more.

"if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one." he said as a warning. he took you by the jaw to look at him. your craned your neck to get a good look at your prince charming. he smiled, "swallow. then hands and knees."

you swallowed and nodded happily. and like a good girl, you opened your mouth to show you swallowed it all. you earned a pat on the cheek, which made you melt a little. you got off his lap, leaving pussy slick across his black slacks.

george noticed it and chuckled lightly before he started to unbutton his shirt. you were a messy little slut, but george adored you. he was only rough because he knew it was best for you. you were a smart girl, you just needed reminders. once he was out of his clothes, he saw you with your hips raised. ready for him as always.

"my beautiful girl." he said as got himself behind you on his knees. he admired your beauty from behind. he could feel the heat of the bruises on your ass when he placed his hand across one of the cheeks. oh, you were perfect for him, "see, norris could never have you like this. no, no. he wouldn't know what do with himself. he'd probably finish before he started." he chuckled as he gave your ass a pat. he pushed his cock all the way into you, you were beyond soaked that it was so easy for him

he started to move his hips, he pushed you into the covers by your shoulders and had the perfect angle to fuck you. you looked so pretty as you took him. you really were a good girl, the farthest thing from a whore. but he knew it excited you when your prince charming, george russell, called you such sick names. it made you hot all over, just as when he fucked you with heavy thrusts.

"ah, george. sir." you arched your back as he hit the softest parts of you. you felt like a dream, you were a fairy tale princess. from your cute face to how you dressed. to how you were good with everyone but always perfect for george. you took his cock perfectly, made for him like you came from pages of a story. it was why he need to fuck you was always so strong.

"perfect little whore." he said, his voice tinged with praise.

you moved a little bit and felt your knees start to hurt from the feeling of it all. you felt a thump in your chest from his words. you held onto the pillow under your head. your ass stung from the feeling of the previous slaps.

"see what happens when you behave. you know i'll take care of you. always, but you have to remember our rules. they're to keep you safe. you are the most important thing to me. that's why i hate when you're a whore." he continued to thrust up against you.

you believed him. that was why you put so much trust into him.he never steered you wrong. you loved him so much. and he loved you, even when he called you names in the safety of your bedroom, you loved him more than anything.

his thrusts were focused and they made you squirm. it made it feel like he was nudging up into your stomach and it took the air out of you. your pussy was a fit for him.

you held onto the covers with your back arched. you panted heavily into them. everything was hot in your body, you panted heavily into the sheets. "please, sir."

"you know i love you, and this all happens because i love you so much. and i know how good you could be for me." he said hotly into your ear, keeping you pinned to the bed.

the blood rush made your toes curled and you came with your hands buried in the soft sheets of your shared bed. you gasped into the pillow and you back arched. it was all too much, you almost had tears in your eyes.

he finished after you did, then slowly came to a stop. he pushed his entire length into you and bottomed out in you. he shuddered and coughed out a moan. his grip on you was tight. and you came once more from the intensity of it all. the sparks in your brain came alive.

your back arched as you felt him slow down and stop. you both tried to catch your breath before george pulled out and wrapped himself up around you. he got the covers over you and kissed at your face with love.

"do you need water?" being a good dom meant aftercare. especially from such a production. he peppered your face with kisses and held you in his arms, "i think there's something in the fridge you could snack on."

you looked at him and cupped his face gently, you said with half-lidded eyed, "just some water. when i can think again maybe a shower, sir."

he kissed your lips and said, "perfect, good. my good girl." even with the bruises across your ass, you felt on cloud nine. there really was nothing like having a dom. especially the kind like george. your prince charming <3

[lilacstro]

astro observations part 8

lmao not me posting aggressively, but I am starting uni soon and possibly as a STEM major so i might have no time all with balancing university and pursuing astrology professionally and i really like tumblr lol so im trying to atleast post it until pt 10

anyways lets gooooooooooo (i love totoro btw)

1.People having Venus in 8th or 12th or ruler of 2nd house in 8th/12th can actually have glasses or some kind of issues with eyes in general

2.Chiron in 9th could mean you have joint/bone problems

3. Have you seen the comments that used to say "me imagining to play this song in front of my crush" or "us imagining to dance like that in front of the whole school", i feel the maximum people who would relate to must have their moon in leo, or big 6 lmao

4. People with mars in 11th house may really get defensive and protective of their friends, in some cases however, they can even get competitive with them

5. People with Uranus in 3rd house may actually have hard childhoods or maybe inconsistent ones, maybe you were always moving, maybe your parent/s were sick in some sorts, maybe something else

6.People with a DC in Pisces would always look innocent lmao, like they would have some kind of thing about them that people would deem them as innocent regardless

8. People with Saturn in 11th house may have a hard time making friends or they may set too many rules on their friendships and end it. It may take a very long time for them to be able to find friends but when they do, it lasts. Also, these people arent the best to comfort/keep up with you but will always have your back and help/guide you in need and no deceit

9. Having MC in Taurus/Capricorn can mean your hardwork is usually recognized and seen, people may actually feel you are super hardworking regardless of anything tbh

10. The sign your 6th house is in can actually determine your relationship with routine. People with fixed signs, like fixed routines and things, mutable ones can't keep up with routines and go with the flow and feels while, ones with cardinal signs like adding new things to their routines as they please

11.People with either 3/11th house in mercurial signs or people having aquarius stelliums are usually very good with computers and internet stuff

12.Both my mom and sister have mars conjunct mercury and it more than often seems they are loud/aggressive while talking even when they are saying the simplest things and may actually be called out for that

13. People with MC in libra, might like to dress/appeal in old money aesthetic, and it could very much be people assume them to be rich somehow, when they absolutely aren't. They have some kind of socialite appeal to them.

14. My sister has mercury in sag, and people are often surprised when she speaks our mother tongue, most of them assume that she somehow might not speak that language at all, or just speaks english, Infact, she knows both of them well.

15. Cancer Sun women, usually are very polite mothers, like gentle motherly love kind of. On the contrary, most Leo women I know give their children tough love, but they usually let their kids free and fly and arent super restrictive or vindictive out of line as such.

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paid readings are open. :)

i love you xoxo

[lodeddiperactivate]

Aftercare

A/N: I don't really put warnings on shorter fics unless they're full length ones, and I do have a general MDNI rule on my pinned post but I thought that this particular Rafe fic need its own set of warnings. Also, I saw the first part somewhere which then gave me the idea for the entire fic. If you know where it's from, pls let me know!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, dark!rafe but he has soft moments after sex, male receiving oral, filming sex

"You're so mean to me," you pouted at Rafe who was trying to look for a shirt to put on.

"Yeah, well you get off to it so what's your point?"

That's actually true, you thought to yourself but you also thought, wouldn't your boyfriend indulged you at least once in a while if you ask him to at least be nice for a change and maybe show some support? You decided to tease him further just as you saw Barry approaching.

"Hey Barry!" You enthusiastically called out to him. Rafe immediately shot you a look, which you responded with a smirk.

"What do you think of this new dress?" You twirled for him with so much glee you could hear and feel Rafe's blood boiling.

"Oh princess, that's such a lovely dress!" Barry exclaimed as he placed his hand on your lower back. He has always been so flirty with you and yet he's the only guy who Rafe hasn't beaten up yet.

"Why thank you, kind sir!"

"What's the special occasion?" He leaned even closer. Barry knew what you were doing. You've done this countless times, trying to make Rafe jealous so usually he would play along.

"There's no special occasion," Rafe said. "Have you got my shit?" He asked Barry obviously pissed.

"Yes, I've got your shit," Barry said, mocking Rafe. You and Barry shared a glance. He smirked at you and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Go upstairs," Rafe has finally had it. "And wait there until we're done."

"Come on, country club, she can stay with us," Barry flirted.

"Yeah, maybe I can-"

"Go, now!"

You pouted and said your goodbyes to Barry before going upstairs in his room and waiting. It was a couple of minutes before you hear Barry's motorcycle. Then, footsteps coming up the stairs. You prepared yourself for whatever version of Rafe you're going to face.

As soon as he walked in the door, he walked around the bed, carefully eyeing you. You didn't know what to do so you just sat there.

"Is that what you want? To whore yourself in front of Barry?"

"Oh come on, that's not what I was doing," you said as you stood up and walked towards him.

He pushed you back with so much force that you landed back on the bed.

"Ow! Rafe, what the-"

Rafe quickly wrapped his hands around your neck, his face inches away from yours, breathing heavily down on you as he slowly tightened his grip. You started to choke but could not help noticed the wetness starting to pool down below.

As if reading your mind, Rafe used his other hand to feel just how wet you are. He brought his hand down to rub the fabric of your panties before lifting it up to taste you. He smirked at you and pushed you back on the bed with so much force. He started taking his shirt off and his pants, so you naturally and instinctively took your clothes off as well but Rafe stopped you.

"You're not gonna cum unless I want you to," as he grabbed you by the hair and brought you to your knees. His cock inches away from your face. "You know what to do."

You sucked him out of fear, out of lust, out of excitement, who knows? What you knew is that Rafe had a grin plastered on his face the whole time.

"I knew you were a slut but damn, I believe you may also be a masochist," he said as he leaned closer so that your faces are inches away from one another.

"Open." You opened your mouth. "Stick your tongue out," which you did. Rafe then spit in your mouth and you swallowed. "At least I know there's one thing you would obey," he said as you proceeded to suck him.

"Please," you breathed. You needed some kind of friction that you started rubbing your clit while sucking him off.

Rafe smirked at you, took out his phone, and started taking a video of you sucking him while you're rubbing your clit. "Yeah, you're gonna whore yourself out to Barry. Well, maybe I'll send this lovely video to him so he can jerk off to it."

That statement made you moaned through Rafe's cock. You fingered yourself quickly and took as much as you can of Rafe, his full length.

"Oh? You like that huh?" You tried to reply but your mouth was full.

"I know you," Rafe said as he had chunks of your hair in a grip. "I know what you want, what makes you wet," he said as you feel him jerk in your mouth, you know he's close to cumming. "I know everything about you, and you're mine," Rafe groaned as he cummed all over your mouth. "Mine," he said as he grunted, disposing his seed into your mouth.

You collapsed on the bed from exhaustion and the sheer force Rafe had used on you. You couldn't help it as you drifted off to sleep right then and there.

When you woke, you noticed it was night time and the room was dimly lit. You also noticed that you were now wearing different clothes, comfier ones. They were Rafe's, an oversized shirt and boxer shorts. You were no longer wearing your panties.

On the bedside table, there is a glass of water and some of your favorite chocolates. Your favorite scent was on the diffuser, and the blinds were already drawn. For a moment, you completely forgot where you are and what happened earlier.

"Hey," Rafe said softly as he poked his head through the door. He then came in with a sandwich on a plate and some soda.

"Hey," you croaked. He smirked as he set the tray beside you. "I see you're still sore from earlier, yeah?"

You didn't respond, you tried to move your body and realized that he was right, your entire body was sore.

"Did I fall asleep after?"

Rafe cuddled beside you, pulling you closer, and stroking your hair. You were so tired that you naturally leaned in and rested your head on his chest.

"Yes, you did." Rafe said, you detected a hint of guilt in his voice.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry if I was too rough."

"You were kinda rough, but it's okay baby," you assured him. He wasn't convinced. He turned to face you and looked you in the eye, "I never want to hurt you, got that?"

"I know," you kissed him and smiled at him.

"And to show you I'm serious, I am going to be 100% nice to you!"

"But then you wouldn't be the Rafe I fell in love with?"

OBX masterlist

[greenfiend]

The Significance of Lover’s Lake and Byler (Theory)

'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact

Yes we're lovers, and that is that (Heroes by David Bowie)

Part 2 here

(Warning: This post has mentions of sex (nothing graphic)… if you’re uncomfortable with that please do not proceed.)

So, Lover’s Lake has existed within the show ever since season 2, when Will mapped out the entirety of Hawkins. The lake is shaped like a heart (keep this in mind for later) thus the name “Lover’s Lake”. Makes sense within the town of Hawkins, but does not provide an explanation on a subtextual level. None of the “lovers” existing within the show has been associated with the lake (you could say Steve/Nancy but honestly it’s a stretch since they never actually rekindled their romance.)

This leads me to the question… why call the lake “Lover’s Lake” without associating any lovers to it?

Because maybe, there will be lovers connected to it… but they aren’t lovers… yet.

Okay, let’s get back to the shape. A heart. ❤️ Hm. Now which character within the show is most associated with hearts? Which character is even referred to as the heart by their love interest?

Mike.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that he’s one part of the “lovers” here. Thus ruling out many other romantic pairings within the show. Leaving only two pairings: Mike/El and Mike/Will. I won’t go into detail on why I believe Mike and El will inevitably break up, you can read a lot of different analyses for that. So that leaves… Mike/Will. Not lovers yet.

Okay, here’s the part where I may get crucified. The definition of lovers.

Please put your pitch forks down for this.

Lovers usually refers to two people in a sexual relationship outside of marriage.

With all the subtext (and actual text) around sex and sexuality, and how we see Will struggle with his own sexuality, there is a likely conclusion here. He’s going to confront his sexuality. To do so, he will have sex. With whom? Well, with the one person he loves the most, the one he affectionately refers to as the heart… his best friend… Mike.

Now, where’s this going to happen? What better location than somewhere empty and secluded.

Reefer Rick’s lakeside house.

Now, who is “Reefer Rick”?

Also known as, Rick Lipton, Reefer Rick is a drug dealer who’s closely acquainted with Eddie.

He’s an enigma. We never see him. All that is known about him are the things mentioned by other characters.

He’s currently in jail apparently for dealing drugs. Also, he seems like a town pariah.

Also, he isn’t too keen on Fast Times (returned on time), at least not as much as “Cheech and Chong” (returned late each time.) That shot at 53 minutes and 5 seconds in Fast Times doesn’t do it for him, I guess. Unlike watching two guys get high.

His name choice is an interesting one.

“Reefer” Rick Lipton.

“Reefer” is a synonym for “marijuana cigarette”. Okay, makes sense, he is a drug dealer after all. But why the term “cigarette”? Well… there’s this other word that also happens to be a synonym for “cigarette”…

Then Rick… short for “Richard”. Richard is one of the few names out there with a nickname that is also slang for male genitalia… “Dick”.

Then finally… Lipton.

As Robin says, spelled like Lipton tea. Now, why would the writers use the name “Lipton” and even reference the tea company if there were no significance to it? They wouldn’t. We know this about them.

So why “Lipton”?

Let’s do a bit of research here, shall we?

The founder of Lipton tea was a man named Thomas Lipton.

Thomas Lipton just so happens to have been a closeted homosexual man who had a long term relationship with another man whose name is… *drumroll please*

William Love.

Okay, that can’t be just a coincidence right?

So moving on to Reefer Rick’s house.

We see glimpses of his living room, kitchen, and briefly his bedroom.

Jason and his buds are searching for Eddie and this involves looking under the mattress? As if, Eddie could successfully hide under there? Haha okay sure.

The angle of this shot is interesting too, because the bed is essentially being shown off to us.

This bed with a blue blanket and yellow sheets. Hm. Interesting.

Keep in mind this scene is essentially unnecessary. They could have easily shown Jason et al searching for Eddie without creating an entire new set for a room that’s only used in one single insignificant shot. Therefore, I do not think it’s unreasonable to believe this is used for foreshadowing.

Then we also get this shot from outside the window into the bedroom.

Look familiar? I thought so too.

Okay. Now for my theory/prediction.

As I mentioned earlier, Will is currently struggling with his own sexuality and feels a lot of shame and internalized homophobia. There’s also a lot of evidence that Mike is experiencing the same thing. Unlike Will, Mike conforms to the society’s expectations. He dates El, performing as her boyfriend. This is comparable to Nancy’s arc in season 1. She also conforms, and like Mike, leaves her best friend behind. We all know how that ended.

Now, what better way to wrap up the show than to have Mike correct his sister’s mistake? To have Mike reject societal expectations in favour of his best friend?

Okay so this is my theory.

Mike and Will have their first kiss an episode or two prior to 5x07. Tensions are high, but they’re busy fighting interdimentional monsters along side their friends.

Then comes 5x07 which somehow leaves Mike and Will alone by Lover’s Lake. The tension between them reaches an all time high, leading to a passionate kiss and then… more. Let’s just say it involves that blue and yellow bed.

At the same time as these two become the lovers they were meant to be, another character is being saved, or perhaps being brought back to life. Perhaps another red head, one we all know and love. Yes, a major parallel and contrast to Steve/Nancy’s sex scene in season 1, which featured Barb dying. But because Mike is rejecting conformity and being authentic, another character lives instead.

I mean, what better way to represent the beauty of the love and intimacy between these two boys? Their love is literally bringing back life to the world.

So yeah, basically I’m saying that Mike and Will expressing their love for each other will save Max.

This also wouldn’t be the first time that Max’s survival is correlated with their relationship. As I doubt that it was merely a coincidence that in episode 4x04 we have Mike’s genuine monologue to Will, then we have Max surviving Vecna. In contrast to 4x09, which features a forced monologue from Mike to El, followed by Max losing to Vecna and barely surviving.

So, as their bond strengthens, Max’s life bar goes up (so to speak). If something interferes with their bond, Max’s outcome is more dire.

The writers have also been associating Mike/El with death…

[Tumblr only allows a limited number of images so pretend we have one of El holding dead flowers and another image of the cut scene from 3x05 with Mike/El having a moment cutting to a dead body on the hospital floor]

Mike/Will on the other hand have been associated with life. The birds chirping in the background of their final scene together, the flowers blooming between them as they stand together. Plus, blue plus yellow does equal green after all. Which is the most commonly associated colour with life.

🌿🌱🌳

To conclude, I just want to say that I personally think this would be a nice way to end their arc. I know a lot of people are uncomfortable with associating Mike/Will with anything sexual… but the show has been doing this already. Whether you like it or not, Mike and Will have been shown implicitly and explicitly that they desire each other both romantically and sexually. The fact that they have sexual desire for each other does not minimize or trivialize their friendship and love, it’s an aspect of it… adding another dimension to their relationship.

Do I think or hope they would show anything pornographic? Absolutely not (do I even have to say this?) But explicit like Steve/Nancy? Yes. Do I think they’ll be only 14/15 years old when this occurs? No. This will likely happen after a time jump.

Being authentically yourself and not conforming is overall a major theme of the show. I mean it’s called Stranger Things after all. Will people be upset by the ending of this arc? Bylers included? Absolutely. Many people within the town of Hawkins and people watching the show will both show disgust for it. But that’s the point. It’s not “normal” and that’s okay. Different is good, and can be a beautiful and wonderful thing. We all just need to open our minds and hearts a bit. I’m not just talking about the GA; many Bylers are also closed minded and stuck in their ways too. Let’s all try to work on that, shall we?

Despite the opinions of others, Will and Mike will choose to love each other which will inevitably lead to their defeat of Vecna. Love concurs all. It may be cheesy and cliche but personally? I think that’s a beautiful thing. We all can learn to love more.

Anyway, would love to know your thoughts on this.

Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

Part 2 here