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valiant-portabella-pirkko · 2 years

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Tideturners: The Sidewinder

“Spend enough time in the Mists, and you’re bound to meet the most fascinating people.”

The Sidewinder went by another name, once. She sailed the seas, swindled and cheated, ransacked and pillaged. A pirate’s life was a harsh one-- unforgiving, violent, and usually sodden with salt water. Even among them she was fierce and unrelenting, a bold captain who fought tooth and nail to maintain the confidence of her crew. She made a name for herself, in spite of her rough origins and all the people who didn’t believe she could.

Her name was Mai Trin... But she doesn’t go by that name anymore.

It’s said that there’s many versions of Tyria scattered through the Mists. Countless, even. Sometimes they even clash, fighting for the resources that crop up in the gaps between worlds. Some are better off than others.

Hers is nothing but a memory now, and the origin of an ever-growing shadow that most will never see-- if they’re lucky. Some histories are best left buried.

“We’re the Tideturners, and we won’t be washed away.”

It all began with a simple proposition; a certain sylvari and a certain alliance, and an ill-fated plan to change the world. But this time, something was different.

The Commander of her world wasn’t quite like most. Brutal, relentless, and arguably more dead inside than the corpse minions he commanded. His lack of morals and intense ambition caught Scarlet’s attention, and she decided to invite him aboard the operation. He was an expert in slaying the dragons and their minions, and such insight could be invaluable with the goals she had in mind.

But this proved to be a dreadful miscalculation. Commander Ruju saw no difference between a rebelling dragon minion and a willing one. When the asura recognized seeds of corruption in her mind, he held no mercy.

And with the head cut off the snake, Ruju made his declaration; either what remained of the slain Briar’s alliance would fall in step under him willingly, or their remains would serve him in death. He was an ardent follower of the principles of Oola; necromancy and golemancy were destined to collide, and any who stood in his way would provide the materials to make that dream reality.

Captain Mai Trin recognized then that this wasn’t the Alliance she’d once believed in. The first to have believed her capable of greatness was dead, and Ruju saw them all as nothing more than replaceable cogs in his perpetual war machine. There was no future there, for the Captain or her crew.

Mai took any Aetherblades who were still loyal to her and fled into the Mists.

She’d spend the rest of her life wondering if they could have won when there was still something left of their world to save. Now they’ll never know.

“I spent most of my life making the wrong choices.”

“But if I can still accomplish something worthwhile with whatever time I have left, that’s what I’m going to do. I owe it to all the people who should be here instead of me.”

In the Mists, she and her Aetherblades cut their own path and their own future, far from Ruju’s war against dragons and Tyrians alike. They built a hideaway within turbulent lands where even time itself held no stability, a fortress that they prayed would never be found by the former allies they left behind.

Within the Mists, they thrived by learning to ransack Fractals. Taking from the echoes of realities that could have been, they found every resource they could ever need to survive. Food and water, technology, replacement parts, weapons and armor, raw materials... Whatever they needed, the Fractals would provide.

It was there that Mai would seek out the guidance of a familiar voice; she reached into the shadows, and the echoes answered, whispering. Scarlet Briar became her ally once more, offering advice and frustration in equal measure.

For a long time, it was just them. Mai, her Aetherblades, and the whispers of a mastermind who’d once promised them the path to greatness.

Years came and went, and the war of their world marched on, and on. Its consequences would soon prove unthinkable-- and inescapable. There were some lines not even pirates would cross. But Ruju held no such reservations.

Mai’s echo felt something within their world, a tie that snapped like brittle thread. For the first time, she was told-- begged-- pleaded with-- to return. Never before had the pirate experienced such a pull. Nor could she begin to imagine just what, exactly, had rendered the sylvari so inconceivably distraught.

And so they returned to Tyria for the first time. Airships flickered back into existence from the Mists, materializing over the skies of the Maguuma jungle.

The landscape below them was not the world they knew. Not anymore.

“... Scarlet wanted to change the world, you know. We all did. She inspired people just like Ruju, once. However you feel about that, there were plenty who believed that anything would be better than what they already had.”

“I can’t say it would’ve been, knowing what I know now. But at least she planned on there still being a world by the time she was done, whatever it would’ve become.”

The Grove was nearly unrecognizable. If not for the crumpled remains of the Pale Tree’s vast branches, she might not have realized what it even was.

Tunnels had been torn through the earth, vast caverns that formed what could only be described as a hive. The forest was teeming with massive insectoid beasts that only later would she learn had a name; the chak.

What had once been the sylvari capital city lay in ruins. The Pale Tree was dead. And under the shadow of her fading leaves hid what would, in another world, have been Tyria’s greatest hope. Mai wasn’t sure what drew her eye to that thicket and its glittering occupants, but the moment she laid eyes upon it, she knew she couldn’t just turn away.

So she called over her most loyal crew members, and they descended into the wreckage to seek something far more precious than any gold.

Broken bodies and dented armor littered the forest floor, yet they paid it no heed, cutting through the swaths of chak and stepping past pools of acid to reach their destination. It was there that Mai would be faced with the choice that would change her life-- and the lives of her remaining Aetherblades-- forever.

“... I’m no hero, or freedom fighter, or ‘chosen one’ or anything glamorous like that. I’m just the last line of defense, if you can say that when there’s so little left.”

“I’m the one they call in because everybody else is already dead. I don’t save the day, it’s already too late for that. I just clean up the rubble you so-called ‘heroes’ leave behind, bury the bodies your wars leave to rot on the battlefield, and patch up the few survivors who got caught in the crossfire.”

“Be careful where you toss that title around, ‘Commander.’ It doesn’t mean what you think it does, not around here.”

Hidden in the shrubbery was what remained of the Exalted; they had long since fled Tarir, their home utterly destroyed by a three-way war between Mordremoth’s minions, the chak, and Ruju’s Alliance. Their grand city was no more, and the same fate had befallen so much of the jungle that it even put the pirates on edge. As it turned out, Ruju had injected a mass quantity of highly toxic biochemicals into Mordremoth’s vegetation, but the poison had killed far more than just the dragon.

The dragon wasn’t just connected to the jungle; it was the jungle. And as it coursed through every vine, leaf, and root, it carried its deadly effects throughout the entire region. The chak fed on mass amounts of released ley energy from the killed vegetation, and since the chemical was only lethal to plants, they survived-- and thrived. Their population grew and grew and grew, evolving to utilize this new resource that now dominated their domain.

And as their numbers multiplied and their evolution accelerated... Their domain grew right along with them, undermining the entire landscape all the way into Kessex Hills. The Pale Tree had been a recent casualty; weakened first by an attack from the dragon and then from the poison seeping into her soil, she didn’t stand a chance when the insects reached their doorstep.

Now, with Ruju’s armies on the march across the continent, they had nowhere left to go. Their last shelter was in ruins, and the Exalted’s precious cargo was in jeopardy. It was only then that they would offer the last thing they had to give to the only hope they had left. Mai and her pirates weren’t the ideal alliance, but there was nowhere else left to turn.

Even the sylvari who had brought it to Tarir lay among the dead now. Mai didn’t know her name, back then. But her invocation did-- and whispered it as they looked upon the shining egg that should have been Tyria’s last hope.

‘Oh Caithe. You poor fool. I always knew your devotion would get you killed.’

“... You know, it’s almost funny. Most sailors believe in some kind of superstition, but I never did. If there was any ‘higher power’ out there, it didn’t care about us. We survived because we fought tooth and nail for every scrap. The open sea had no mercy, so neither did we.”

“And then I saw that egg, shining like a beacon in the ruins of a dead city that called to me with its last breath. And I just... Knew. Guess sometimes it takes the end of the world to really put things into perspective, huh?”

The crew was conflicted; some wanted to simply steal the egg and make off with it, but what then? The Exalted would fight to their last armor, and what would they even do with it? It only had value if they could sell it, and who would be its buyer? Certainly not Ruju, and no one else would want it. It was too precious, too powerful, too important to be treated as a mere treasure.

Mai and her invocation came to a joint conclusion-- one of which neither was certain, but both knew was unavoidable. Mai offered the strange, ethereal beings her hand. There was one path forward, and she was going to take it.

An alliance was forged, that day. And that was the day that the Aetherblades were no more. A new name was born, one that would echo through the Mists as it rippled across the fabric of fate-- a reflection of what they would become, and what they were going to do from that moment on.

They would be the Tideturners, one final holdout against impossible odds. And even if they couldn’t save this Tyria from the cataclysm to come, maybe they would still be able to save something else.

“I’m going to tell you a secret: nobody comes to live in the Mists if they have somewhere better to stay. We aren’t the only ones out here, but we all have something in common. We’re all running from something, hoping whatever we find out here will be better than what we’re trying to escape. Most times, it’s hard for it to be worse.”

“The Turnabout isn’t a vacation spot, or a military base, or anything like that. It’s a refuge for people who don’t have anywhere else to go. We don’t ask questions because we all have our secrets, and nobody needs to know who we were before, just who we choose to be now.”

“Those people are dead and gone, and they’re never coming back. We’re just the ghosts they left behind.”

The last of the Exalted were brought into the Mists aboard Aetherships, and settled into the fortress that would one day become known as the Turnabout. Glint’s last egg was safeguarded in the last place it might truly be out of Ruju’s reach, and in return, the Exalted offered their own magical knowledge to upgrade the facility’s defenses.

New weaponry was developed-- unique combinations of their ancient secrets and the steam-powered technology utilized by the Aetherblades. EX-Cannons were designed that would even act as an extension of the Exalted themselves, allowing the armor beings to interface more directly with the fortress’s defenses. And as knowledge of the continued destruction of their world slipped through the cracks, the sentiment began to slowly shift.

Even pirates had standards, morals that were too low even for them. They’d fight and plunder and pillage-- but this wasn’t about wealth or prestige or even survival, not anymore. And the more that Ruju’s army left naught but desolation in its wake, the clearer it became that this was far bigger than any of them.

It was the fall of Balthazar that shook the Mists, and tipped a far different scale than any had anticipated. Elder dragons were falling, one after the other. The fabric of magic was crumbling, and with it, their world, too. Scarlet began to whisper cryptic warnings of the ‘oblivion’ so soon to come.

Everything was about to get much, more worse.

“There’s worse fates than death. I know, I’ve seen my fair share. Corruption is pretty high on the list.”

“I could almost feel sorry for him, even after all this. I don’t know what Ruju is now, but he’s not an asura anymore. I’m not sure you can even call him alive. Whatever that magic did to him, there’s no turning back now.”

“It’s a part of him, and he’s a part of it, even if there’s not enough left of him to realize it for himself.”

Their scouts began to send back reports of a strange, dark substance that twisted even reality itself. It adhered to no laws of logic or physics, bending matter indiscriminately and killing everything that it didn’t consume. It was growing, faster and faster. If allying with the Exalted had been Mai’s turning point, this was the moment that would truly prove her change of heart.

The Tideturners returned to their world, one more, one final time. Their ships arrived to a Tyria ravaged by shadows and broken magic, this time on a mission that would have no happy ending; to get everyone out that would come, before there was nothing left to save at all. If the world had to end, they were going to salvage what little of it that they could. It would be here that Mai would don a mask for the first time, referring to herself as ‘the Sidewinder’ to conceal her identity. Her world would never trust their safety to a cutthroat pirate, but perhaps it could learn to trust a mysterious, unnamed Mists traveler instead.

Many were unwilling. They planned to fight until the end. Some were left behind, others were carried aboard, and a few even tried to fight the pirates themselves.

Captain Kiel was one of the ‘lucky’ few to be knocked out in the conflict and carried aboard; only after awakening would she discover what had happened. She’d spend the rest of her life coming to terms with it, just like so very many others. Eventually she would go on to become the Turnabout’s co-leader ‘Captain K’ alongside the Sidewinder, but that’s another story for another day.

That day would haunt the pirates for as long as they lived, for there were other things, dreadful, monstrous things, watching them with glowing eyes as they departed. The Mists were about to get a whole lot more dangerous...

The Grand High Sovereign didn’t go down with his world. And there were still so many, many other worlds out there for him to explore and dominate.

“We don’t worship the Six here. There’s only Five, and they don’t ask for our unconditional devotion. They know the role they played in our history, and we know it, too. When their people called out, they were silent. They left their worshipers to die until no one was left to pray.”

“They’re gods, but most of us treat them as guides, mentors, and allies. They don’t win our battles for us, and their power won’t turn the tide of war. That’s up to us. But they answer our questions, and offer their advice. They won’t save us, but if we know the right questions to ask, they’ll give us the tools to save ourselves.”

It would be in the years to follow that the Turnabout would change even more than it already had. Many refugees had fled into the Mists of their own accord, and now wandered among the shadows and demons with no direction and no resources. But they did not go unnoticed.

The Five remaining human gods had been watching. They dared not intervene with the god killer directly, but one thing became clear; if they stood by and did nothing, soon what little remained of their Tyria would crumble. Even the Turnabout itself wasn’t enough to keep them safe. Sooner or later something truly horrific would find them, and their last refuge would be wiped away as if it had never existed at all.

Despite their reluctance, Kormir eventually won the other gods over. They didn’t need to fight, but they did need to step in-- even if it wouldn’t be forever. A decision was made, and after far too long, contact was finally re-initiated-- and an offer was made to the survivors who remained.

The Five broke a piece off of their land in the Mists, Xotecha, and offered it as sacred ground for the Turnabout’s final iteration. Gathering the last stragglers, they aided in bringing the remains of their broken world to a safer location; the heart of a massive temporal storm, surrounded on all sides by walls of broken reality that nothing could easily pass.

And finally, they offered knowledge, one last boon that would teach the refugees how to navigate the Mists and its temporal instabilities more safely. Soon the Tideturners understood its intricacies better than any of them ever would have imagined, devising their own specialized suits that could insulate them from even the most severe and debilitating environments.

Eventually these suits would allow for the retrieval of the impossible and improbable, making for some unique new allies that would aid the Tideturners’ Mists excursions even further... But that, too, is a story for another day.

“Jade tech is really something, huh? It holds a magical charge like nothing else I’ve ever seen, even golem power cores can’t compare. It infuses the whole machine’s physical components with power, and you can do some very... Creative things with that kind of energy infusion.”

“That’s the most I can tell you about our systems, but I don’t think you’ll find anything like this outside the Turnabout. ‘ASP’ really is one of a kind.”

As the Turnabout’s population grew, so did its technological advancement and ingenuity. With it came iterations of Cantha’s jade tech, and new methods of energy channeling that entirely changed the way their facility operated. EX-Cannons were upgraded, and new technology allowed the Turnabout to revolutionize its entire interface in an entirely new way.

A new AI system was introduced to run the facility and aid the ever-growing population; ‘ASP,’ short for Automated Security Protocol. The Sidewinder oversaw its development, and became the head of security for the foreseeable future. The snarky, occasionally morbid AI soon proved to be an exceptional help around the Turnabout... With a sinister secret.

In truth, the ‘AI’ was no AI at all, but instead an extension of the Sidewinder’s secretive Scarlet Briar invocation. By directly interfacing her magic with the Turnabout’s jade tech energy conduits, she was able to devise a method of controlling everything remotely-- with Scarlet operating the machinery independently so she could focus on other matters. In order to maintain the connection, a pair of special magitech gauntlets were constructed with unique jade tech receptors that could channel her magic directly into the system, and generate a ‘tablet’ interface for ease of access anywhere.

Some would eventually become suspicious, but the more time passed, the more that the population came to determine that it didn’t make a difference. The AI was doing its job, Sidewinder was proving herself as an effective leader, and the Turnabout was providing for all of its residents with a surprising amount of efficiency.

Against all odds, people came to believe in the Sidewinder and the bold new world she helped to build. And, even if she knew there were plenty of others who would’ve been better suited to this position than her, Mai would fight every day to become the person that the Tideturners believed she was.

She wasn’t a hero, and she didn’t want to be one. But she could be a leader.

This would only be the beginning of their story, though... Ruju’s march would continue soon enough, and the Tideturners’ work will never be done. Not until the Grand High Sovereign and his void-enhanced army is finally laid to rest.

So, where are the Tideturners now..?

"In the taverns of Divinity's Reach, look for someone with a skull and sword tattoo on their upper arm. You'll see just the edge of it. Show them this coin, and tell them; 'I heard you're looking for lost treasure.'"

"They'll ask you; 'I'm always watching for hidden gems. How'd you find this?’ Answer them; 'it washed in on the tide.' They'll know what that means."

There are few groups more secretive than the Tideturners. Most would say they’re just a strange story whispered between Mist travelers, trying to explain shifting shadows in the distance and mysterious markings under rocks. Few outside their ranks have ever seen them, and even fewer knew what they saw.

Just know this; if the Sidewinder is about, the winds of fate are changing... And it’s likely not in your favor. Not because she brings trouble, but because she’s tracking the ones who do... And where Ruju goes, calamity is sure to follow.

So if you start seeing unidentifiable figures lurking on the horizon, and finding their sigil marked under arches, get ready. And if the Sidewinder drops by to share a drink and say hello, never let yourself forget she’s likely there on business. Ask her when the tide is coming in if you want the truth.

Where she comes from, there are no heroes, not anymore. The good ones never make it out alive. If you do, you’ll be the first.

So get ready... Because a storm is coming, and it’s closer than you think.

Additional Background Details and Headcanons:

- Mai adopted the nickname ‘Sidewinder’ due to its snake theming; I headcanon her to be of mixed Luxon (Serpent clan) and Elonian (Corsair) background, which in turn was why her ancestors weren’t living in Cantha; they left due to persecution from the Ministry of Purity, with her being the first to return after several generations of piracy on the fringes of Tyria. Likewise, Scarlet’s ‘AI’ persona was named ASP to match up with the snake theme.

- While the Sidewinder isn’t Aurene’s first choice as a Champion for various reasons, under certain circumstances she could, potentially, become the young dragon’s caretaker. However, the egg has not hatched as of yet; due to the differences during the time of Heart of Thorns, she didn’t gain as much magic from Mordremoth’s death and as such, hasn’t absorbed enough energy.

- In the significant amount of time spent separated from Mordremoth, ASP has effectively been ‘rehabilitated.’ While she often still makes snarky remarks and has a notably morbid sense of humor, she doesn’t act on her more violent impulses anymore and is actually highly defensive of her new home. Both she and the Sidewinder defend the Turnabout ferociously. Additionally, most Turnabout residents have become familiar with her since she often speaks through the intercoms and offers assistance for a variety of tasks.

- Most characters aren’t aware that the Sidewinder is Mai; those who do are mainly Captain Kiel and the former Aetherblades from her original timeline. Very few people actually made it out of her original Tyria, so there aren’t many who can-- or will-- confirm or deny her true identity. Some others they’ve taken in from later timelines (Agent Y and Joon, particularly) have a pretty solid guess due to knowing Mai in their own world, but can’t be certain.

- Due to the Sidewinder’s first experience with any ‘Commander’ being so overwhelmingly negative, she tends to be extremely cautious of any others she comes across using that moniker. Even the good ones tend to set her on edge; she’s seen enough timelines at this point to pick up on a pattern, and it always places them as a driving force of destiny. That said, she can grow friendly with Commanders on occasion, should they prove to be friendly in return.

- The Sidewinder never, ever introduces herself as Mai Trin, and her mask contains an auditory distortion module that disguises her voice. She never takes the mask off in public. It also contains numerous other mechanical and electronic components, including an internal screen and various overlays for observing various Turnabout statistics, and a sensory deprivation mode that blocks out visuals entirely if she needs to focus her revenant abilities.

- Her mask and gauntlets work in tandem to help focus the Sidewinder’s abilities; both have extensive jade conduits and circuitry built in, which allow ASP to interface with the Turnabout from anywhere and also prevent it from overwhelming her. If the Sidewinder is going into combat, though, she also has a specialized set of matching pauldrons that increase her power output. Both those and the gauntlets have magic that might seem familiar to those who’ve faced Mai’s revenant invocation in battle... Black spheres of magic surrounded by a red glow, just like the torment-inflicting orbs used by Scarlet when she spirals out of control. That resemblance isn’t a coincidence in the least.

- Sidewinder’s mech glows red instead of green, which may catch some off-guard; any technology influenced by her revenant abilities will change colors to match ASP’s crimson energy signature, and she’s capable of affecting anything that utilizes a suitably advanced system of magitech circuitry. ASP often acts entirely independently of Sidewinder, which can have both amusing and disconcerting results. Mostly it results in the ‘AI’ dropping in on electronic transmissions without permission to deliver quips and commentary.

- While she and Captain K still don’t see eye-to-eye on most things, they’ve learned to forge their differences into a strength. By meeting in the middle on various issues, they often come to much more creative and nuanced conclusions-- and that, in turn, allows them to lead the Turnabout much more effectively. While the Sidewinder typically handles combat management and defensive measures, Captain K is more involved in the political side and handles diplomatic matters.

“Welcome to the Turnabout. Rules are pretty simple around here: keep your weapons boxed in public spaces, don’t take things that don’t belong to you, fight only in self-defense, and don’t aggravate the AI. She bites.”

“... I’m joking, she doesn’t actually bite. But if you try your luck too much she still might shoot you with a stun cannon, so play nice. We don’t have enough room at the infirmary for every hotshot that feels like playing chicken with the defense protocol.”

#GW2 #Guild Wars 2 #The Sidewinder #Tideturners AU #EoD Spoilers #mentions of major character death #so yeah! god this took so long to put together lmao #I wanted to have this together so she has a proper 'character page' of sorts...#+ it has a general timeline of the Tideturners and how they evolved...#anyway. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about Mai and the Sidewinder #becoming the Sidewinder is her second chance. an opportunity to be someone better.#Scarlet couldn't give her that. even Joon couldn't give her that. it was a decision she had to make for herself.#she isn't perfect. she's not a hero. she won't be the savior of the world.#but she does want to do right by the people who believe in her.#it's a bold new world and she's trying her best to deserve her position in it.#also ASP is really. really funny to write dialogue for i love her dearly #'This unit is not qualified to run an unsupervised health diagnostic. However if you sign this waiver I will be permitted to vaporize you.'#'Then health diagnostics will be irrelevant because you will be easily identifiable as deceased. Have a terrible day!'#Some kid asks her if hell is real and she says 'Yes and I'm in it.' what's it like? 'Customer service.'#literally just Discount GLaDos DJFHDKHDJ #also yes i took the time to take all those shots + did the color edits #+ designed the Tideturners emblem there too #anyway. time to stop before the tags get longer than the post

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seouljazzbar · 2 months

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GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest.

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry.

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats.

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…”

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties.

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?”

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?”

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat.

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in.

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.” He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you.

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains.

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.”

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed.

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

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