#i was 22 and invited to a party by some undergrad friends and they were asking me to buy them booze and i was like

[stayatsam]

dating age ranges are bizarre bc when i was 20 i considered my range anywhere from 20-28 and now that im 23 im thinking good lord i would never date a 20 yr old

[ofwolvesandbutterflies]

like that | ii

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Genre: fluff, t i n y bit of angst if your squint

Tags: roommate!mark, fakedate!mark

Warnings: none

day 20 of 30 days of NCT

Synopsis: in which your fake date shows you how to really slow dance 

// you give me butterflies when I simply just look at you // (x)

--

[22:28]

How had you ended up here, trapped oh so delicately in his arms, lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, swaying to the beat of an unnamed love song? Mark pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, something akin to the fluttery feeling in your stomach dancing about in the deep darkness of his irises.

Surely it wasn’t the alcohol that caused the rapid beating of your heart in your chest. Surely it wasn't the romantic atmosphere of another wedding reception that had you yearning for something more than friendship with the handsome man before you. Could it have been- No. This wasn’t because you asked him to be your plus one tonight. No. It couldn’t be that. Anyone could have asked their attractive roommate to be their plus one to their cousin’s wedding. Closing your eyes, you thought back to the night before... Surely last night had some significance. 

“So, tell me, Y/N,” Mark hummed. Dark eyes followed your figure as you bustled about the kitchen in one of his hoodies and a wistful sigh left the smile painted over his face. He knew you were only inviting him to the wedding because you were roommates, but as you scowled down into the water, using a forearm to brush the hair out of your eyes... he couldn’t help but wish you were asking because of something else. Resting his chin in his hand, Mark blinked the silly thoughts from his mind, watching from the counter as you spared him a quick glance from your place behind the sink. “Should we come up with some elaborate story about how we started ‘dating’ for your cousin’s wedding tomorrow? Or is that too extra?” 

“Sounds kind of ridiculous,” you scoffed down at the soapy dish water, submerging three different plates into your tattered reflection, scrubbing the ceramic much harder than necessary. You had lost rock, paper, scissors this evening which meant you had to wash all the dishes while Mark got to sit back and watch you. 

The angelic smile on his lips immediately flipped into a frown. “Come on, Y/N. No one’s gonna believe us if we don’t have a dumb, cliche story about how I found you, my dream girl, you realize that right?” 

“Well-” turning off the water, you paused in your scrubbing to squint up at your roommate. “I mean, we can, but if it’s really cliche, you might as well stay home because my mom’s not dumb. Like, if you pulled up to her and said something like, ‘Hi Y/N’s mom, I’m her boyfriend, Mark Lee… Yes, it’s lovely to meet you as well… I met your daughter one afternoon after accidentally spilling coffee down her white shirt and offered to pay for dry cleaning and another coffee, but she refused, saying that my number would be sufficient payment’... she’d immediately smack me for trying to mess with her.” The brunette in front of you sighed and pushed himself off the stool to pace about the dining room. 

“Damn, here I was thinking I could say something along those lines and fool everyone.” With his eyes downcast, eyebrows furrowed, and bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, Mark went quiet, trying to think up another somewhat believable story of how the two of you met. Having forgotten the chores for the time being, you let your gaze wash over your handsome roommate. 

Not a single part of you wanted to admit you had fallen for Mark long ago. Because if you had to pinpoint the moment you fell for him, it was a month after you moved in together. You could remember that evening clearly; he had been blasting music in the kitchen, banging all the pots and pans with drumsticks made out of the wooden spoons you had just bought while belting out the lyrics to Chris Brown’s song ‘With You’. And you… you had been trying in vain to finish an essay due that evening. Furious and fed up with his ‘music’, you burst out of your room and stomped towards the kitchen, full rant sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

However, all the frustration festered up inside you died the moment he turned around, the widest smile appearing across his face when he saw you. Still humming to the lyrics, Mark transferred both of the spoons into one hand, stretching his other hand out to you. “Wanna dance?” 

A light giggle fell from your mouth at the memory until you remember that same roommate was making you wash the dishes. Said roommate’s head perked up at the sound. 

“What’s up? Did you figure out a different background story for us?” Within seconds, he was at the edge of the counter. You forced your gaze away from the way his bangs settled just above his eyes, away from the curve of his jaw, away from the soft pink of his lips and back down to the remainder of the dishes in the sink. 

Shaking your head ‘no’, you shrugged silently, pushing the precious memory back to the recesses of your mind. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t believe you…”

“What? Why?” 

From his perch on the kitchen counter, Mark reached out - eyes narrowed in faux suspicion - to bop the tip of your nose. “Because you’re smiling like you just thought of something good.” 

Oh. Rolling your eyes playfully, you flicked a handful of soap suds in his direction. You hadn’t realized the smile your memories had brought still remained on your lips. Again, you shrugged. “Nah, that’s just the face I make when I think about you.” 

--

Still a day later, the words you had spoken the night before had yet to leave your mind. You downed another shot, trying with all your might to forget the sober truth you had admitted to your roommate even without an ounce of alcohol coursing through your veins. But alas, even after the initial burn of the drink had subsided, there lingered still the way his lips parted in disbelief the moment the words exited your mouth. 

Mark didn’t say anything after that. Just shut his mouth, offered you an unsteady smile, and excused himself. 

Earlier this afternoon as you were getting ready, it was as if the conversation from the night before hadn’t even taken place. You sat in front of your vanity, already in your cocktail dress, make-up half done and curling iron held taut above your head when he knocked. A mere second later, he entered and you nearly dropped your iron. 

Mark, the boy you had frequent and spontaneous midnight dance parties with… Mark, the tired college undergrad who lived eternally in large sweatshirts and ripped jeans… Mark, the young man your heartbeat sped up exponentially for... Though you had been living with him for 2 years, never before did you have the chance to see just how good he looked in a suit. His long, muscular legs were wrapped in a pair of black dress slacks and a dark button-down covered his lean torso. A matching tie hung loose around his neck and his hair was combed back, revealing his piercing eyes. 

He just smiled, greeting you with a steaming cup of coffee and a simple “you look beautiful.” 

For the nth time that evening, you released a small sigh, eyes once again resting on your date and the way he laughed, chatting casually with your family. Your mother had been immediately smitten with your handsome roommate. Polite and charming as always, he spoke earnestly - one hand resting around your waist - about all the things he ‘loved’ about you. If only your relationship was real, if only he meant all the things he had told your cousin, all the things he told your mom, all the solemn lies he promised your childhood friend.

Glaring deep into the empty shot glass, you nearly jumped when he appeared, right beside you. 

“Y/N, my love,” Mark whispered. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine and you looked up at him helplessly. How could he do this to your heart? How could he say those words so casually and smile so easily when you were hurting so visibly? “This is the second time tonight you’ve left me for the bar, I’m beginning to get jealous.” 

“Oh shut up, Mark,” you groaned. When you spoke, your words slurred ever so slightly, eliciting an amused grin from your date. “I’m just trying to forget I saw my childhood friend - my best friend in high school, mind you - staring at your ass. I mean, come on, Mina, this is my date and only I can stare at his butt.” 

“Jealous or something, baby?” Mark snickered mischievously. The sweet chill of the evening air was quickly replaced with the warmth of his firm body as he snuck his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I promise I’ll spend the rest of the night with you.” 

When you said nothing, he sighed, pulling away only to tug the empty glass out of your hand. You turned to frown at him, parting your lips to say something, to dismiss the butterflies flooding your system from the way his heavy gaze drank you in. But before you could say anything, the soft melody of a slow love song played out of the speakers and the voice of the bride came on the microphone, inviting all the couples to the dance floor.  

Perhaps it was the way the lights hung around the outdoor venue, highlighting all the best parts of your roommate or the way his touch sent tingles of excitement through your body... Or maybe it was the way he pulled you close for the second time that evening or the way the stars shone brightly in his eyes… Whatever it was that sent your heart racing and your mind reeling, you knew right then and there, there was no chance you were going to let that feeling go. 

Mark tilted his head to look down at you. In his gaze swam a tender desire that made you more than weak in the knees. “Dance with me, again?” 

In mere seconds, Mark pulled you back out onto the dance floor. Earlier in the night, he had brought you out during a rap song. Not a very good opportunity for slow dancing. But now, as the beat played out, relaxed and the tiniest bit sensual, a thrill ran through your body. Perhaps now you could get that slow dance you had been waiting all night for. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you were reminded of all the romance movies you’d watched. According to those movies, this was the moment where his hands were supposed to find their way to your hips and yours, his neck. Once you were situated, his eyes would meet yours and the two of you would lean closer until your lips touched in a groundbreaking kiss. 

However… his hands never fell past your ribcage. Instead, Mark placed a hand under your left shoulder blade, tugging your left hand up to rest on his bicep. With his free hand, he grabbed yours, clasping them together without intertwining your fingers. And rather than swaying back and forth like everyone else was doing, Mark began to dance. One step forward, side - together, closed. A step back, side - together, closed. The confusion must have settled visibly in your eyes and your date released a low laugh. 

“What’s wrong, love?” 

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, both in your speech and your step. “I just… this isn’t how you slow dance?” 

Mark chuckled, shaking his head in disagreement. “You’re right, this isn’t how you slow dance.” 

“Then what is this?”  

For a moment, he said nothing. Just stepped in time to the music, nodding his head along to the lyrics. But I just could not figure out why you give me butterflies when I, simply just look at you…

“This-” he said, tugging you closer ever so slightly. The affection in his smile was dizzying, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away from it. “-is me looking at the only girl I’ve ever felt this strongly for.” 

Just like that, your breath caught in your throat. Mark leaned closer, a flush covering his cheeks and nothing but honestly in his voice as he continued. “This is me, holding the girl of my dreams in my arms and trying to tell her how much I care.” 

He lifted his arm, sending you under for a slow turn. After eight counts, he brought you back into his embrace, lowering his lips to your cheek in the softest kiss imaginable. “This, my love, is a waltz.” 

[yaachtynoboat711]

At First Glance: Ch.1 ✨💃🏽

A/N: Get ready to learn about the journey out favorite couple has gone on before the Gala! I struggled with this chapter all week. Thank you, @great-neckpectations and the group chat for helping me get out of my block. Love y’all 😭.

Pairing: Winston Duke x Black Plus-Sized! OC

Word Count: ~2.8K

Warnings: language, fluff, Yaa won’t let that petty go 😭

The annual Black Yale Alumni Association Benefit Ball was in full effect.Every year, the BYAA hosted this event to raise funds for their scholarship fund to help Black undergrad and grad students. This was the most anticipated event for Black Yale of the year for both alumni as well as current students. With the event always falling around Halloween, the Ball was a costume party and had a different theme. This year’s theme was “Music’s Icons”.

Even though she had just graduated Yale Law School in the spring and was slated for graduating with her Ph.D. in the December, Khalida Abdullah was NOT missing her first Black Alumni function. Since Yaa had been at Yale, she’d been one of the best-dressed people at the ball. She was always slaying the theme, no matter how vague or specific the theme or the guideline’s would be. It’d helped to have an interest in historical fashion and a sister in the fashion industry. The process for that one night was a strenuous process that lasted for months, with most time being spent in researching ( Yaa’s undergraduate was after all in History, so research came naturally to her in all facets of life). When the theme was announced in late June, Yaa knew she was going as Selena.

The easiest part of Yaa’s decision was picking which musical legend she was going to be for Ball; the hardest part would be which iconic outfit to choose from. Anything Selena put on her body would be replicated by fans and stans for the next 20+ years after her unnecessary death. Either you slayed Selena’s fit or it slayed you; most would fall victim to the latter. Yaa decided on Selena’s outfit from her last concert. It was definitely one of her most iconic and most difficult outfits to pull off. Months of preparation continued until an email was sent regarding the ball. This year’s Best-Dressed would not be granted so easily.

October 26, 2013.8:49 pm, Yaa’s AirBnB.

It was finally time for the turn up. Everything was laid out: the earrings, the custom wig adorned with Selena’s signature bangs, the makeup, even a replica of her lipstick-adorned microphone (Yaa practiced her routine while wearing red lipstick for the effect) were ready for Yaa. Yaa was precise with every detail of the ensemble. In the midst of all the preparation, Yaa’s best friend Tanisha, offered her nervous friend some comedic relief. “

“DAAAAAAAAAAAMN, K.D.! The way you looking and the way this tight ass suit is fitting on ya, you gon’ fuck around and hook a nigga!”

“What are you talking about, Neesh? You always say I’m getting wife’d up at any function I go to. The hell they lookin’ for? I’ve come to this every year since I’ve been in New Haven and nothing. Well, besides being with Quin, but that’s the same as saying nothing. Only reason I’m going is to take pictures, socialize, and say ‘thank you’ to the board and other people for helping me make it through Yale...that’s it. Ain’t no husbands coming this year!” Yaa yelled from the bathroom as she was finishing up her makeup and making her way back into her room. She watched Neesh as she transformed into Donna Summers.

“Do you even wanna get me started?” Neesh inquired as she helped her best friend put on her silver bootie heels, “ Sis, at 22, you were the VALEDICTORIAN of 2013’s Yale Law School class. It was like damn near 700 folks in that hoe and you was the smartest bitch in that bitch, not to mention the fact that you still gotta whole Ph.D. coming in December. You the shit and I just hate that you don’t relish in that. It’s a nigga right now gettin’ ready as we fucking speak going into this function totally oblivious to the fact that a thick ass angel in a tight ass purple sparkly catsuit and a damn wig is finna ‘Bidi Bidi Bom Bom’ her way into his simple ass life. Give it a chance, I know you a young genius but live a little,bitch. He’s gonna be there.”

Yaa chuckled in confusion, “Neesh you dumb as hell for that. Also, you sound pretty confident that he, whoever he is, is going to be there. Please God don’t tell me you’ve played matchmaker again. Bitch I swear to God I’m slappin’ the shit outta you and that’s on muvas.”

“I’m sorry,sis, but I couldn’t let this one pass. He’s the sweetest and most down to earth guy ever. He just graduated with his Master’s in acting in the spring.” Neesh replied.

“Where?”

“Yale.”

Yaa’s reluctant spirit began to soften. “How did I miss him? Is he Black?”

“Bitch, I oughta choke you. Of course he is! Now I must warn you, he, too, just got out of a relationship and he’s never been with a Black woman before.”

Yaa side-eyed Neesh. She knew deep in her heart that Neesh was trying to help. While she appreciated the notion, Yaa was very reluctant to throw herself back into the dating market after her break-up three months ago. “Ok, but please know that you’re still on indefinite suspension from the position of matchmaker.”

The last time Neesh played matchmaker, Yaa’s ex, Quincy ended up being bout crazy as hell. He was very charming, yet manipulative. Yaa was many things, but being to put up with Quincy’s shit wasn’t among them.

At this point, Neesh was begging: “I promise you, K, this one is so much different from Quincy. I’ve been observing him since we started the program. He’s amazing; if I wasn’t such an amazing friend and he hadn’t been in a relationship, I woulda kept him for myself. But I decided not to and we wouldn’t have worked. I know I fucked up but please give this guy a chance.”

When Yaa met Neesh , Neesh was in her final year in Yale’s Theatre program. Neesh was a graduate assistant and the creative genius behind every Yale production. She mastered everything: makeup, costuming, wigs, lighting, you name it. However, she loved costuming and makeup. The two met at an Alpha party the semester Yaa arrived to Yale. Being that they were both SGRho’s and had much in common ,the pair had basically been inseparable since their first conversation. Since graduating, Neesh moved to New York where she became the Creative Director for an off-Broadway theatre company.

Yaa felt sorry for her friend pleading the way she was. Yaa wanted to be stubborn but something was telling her to meet this mystery guy. She finally broke her contemplative silence: “What’s his name,sis?” Neesh was radiating with joy. “His name is Winston. Winston Duke.”

Yaa’s eyebrows went up in curiosity. “Hell kinda name is Winston?” Yaa asked as her head fell back in laughter. Yaa was now wondering what this Winston character looked like. He clearly had to be attractive, or else Neesh wouldn’t have given him a second thought. This was definitely a move of redemption. As the two friends took pictures, Yaa began to get excited about meeting that Winston fellow? Was he tall? Was he Greek? She’d figure out at the ball.

10:54 p.m., The BYAA Ball

The function was going up by the time Neesh and Yaa arrived; that was the plan all along. The vibrations of the loud music pulsated against the walls and floors of the venue. Waves of excellence and Black splendor filled the room.The pink and purple lights juxtaposed the white curtains and couches throughout the club in which gave the space an inviting and jovial energy.

The DJ was blasting that good shit and everyone was going up.

All eyes were on the pair; Donna and Selena were in this bitch and everyone took notice. They took pictures at the photo booth and went their separate ways to socialize with their separate circles. Yaa was the belle of the ball; the moment she walked into the room, Winston saw her and let her and her tight ass purple ass catsuit Bidi Bidi Bom Bom her way into his heart. He watched as she basically floated across the room,socializing with everyone that knew her. Then she smiled. Winston was slightly turned on by the warmth and calming beauty in this Cinderella girl’s candy apple red-colored trillion dollar smile and angelic glow of her caramel hue.

“Wow”, he thought to himself, “She’s a vision of beauty...is that—is that a dimple? GAH!!! It’s just one? My God, she’s perfection. She’s so fuc—GET IT TOGETHER, DUDE!” If there were a control center operating his brain right now, they’d be in overdriven crisis mode. Never had Winston ever felt butterflies for anything other than maybe an audition, but here he was, falling madly in love with a girl that just walked into room. Then she turned around—my God. Winston just about died. Winston wasn’t a guy that obsessed over body features on a woman, but trust Khalida Abdullah’s ass was too much for him.

“Well,I’ll be damned; this tree ass nigga here fine as hell! If he keep looking at me like I’m a jug of water, he gon’ have to buy me dinner. Mmm! Chocolate ass. ” Yaa mentally stated.

The man in question was a rather tall individual. He was clean-shaven, a beautiful milk chocolate toned and had a rather ambitious,yet shy energy about him. Judging by the outfit, Yaa figured he was dressed as Don Cornelius. While he was looking away, she saw him smile and saw only one thing: a gap. Yaa was mysteriously obsessed with gapped teeth, especially on guys. She didn’t know this man from Adam, yet she was feeling him from a distance.

Completely entertained by the mutual eye fucking before them, Neesh and one of Winston’s colleagues and friend, Lupita, smirked to themselves as they mentally devised a plan to get Yaa and Winston together. “Peet, we better not be thinking about the same thing.”,Neesh remarked with a smirk. Lupita chuckled,”Yes. They need to be next to each other. She’s perfect for him!” The friends gravitated towards their gentle giant of a friend. Winston looked at them with confusion,”What’s up, ladies?” Lupita and Neesh looked at each other before Neesh spoke:

“ You remember that lawyer friend I was telling you about?”

Winston nodded,”Yeah, I remember. You never confirmed nor denied if she was cute. I’m still waiting on your answer,Tanisha.”

Neesh rolled her eyes, “ Boy, shut up and follow me.”

The thought of finally meeting Neesh’s lawyer friend made a usually calm Winston a little anxious. The walk across the venue made his chest tighter the closer he got. He still didn’t understand why he was so nervous. His loud friend didn’t settle his nerves either as she practically yelled towards her lawyer friend.

“AYO, K.D.!” Yaa almost got whiplash from turning her head at the rate in which she did. Her eyes widened as the fine guy she was looking at earlier was coming towards her. Her heart almost stopped when he stopped in front of her. He was much taller than she’d imagined, but you wouldn’t catch her complaining. Sis was completely shook. Neesh cleared her throat louder than normal to break the two from the trances they were in.

“Wow. You’re tall.” Yaa stammered.

“Nah, I’m Winston.”, he replied as he smiled and shook her hand. She was NOT about to be out-pettied by this man. If it was a petty war he wanted, then by all means a petty war is what he was going to get.

“Wow, that was corny. That’s what they teaching y’all in the theatre program now?” Winston’s heart fluttered as Yaa’s Southern accent got the best of her. It only came out when she said certain words or phrases.

“Ok, Elle Woods, I see you got jokes, too.”

“One, my name is Khalida Abdullah. Two, coming from a nigga named Winston, I know you got jokes.” Both Lupita and Neesh were damn near on the floor laughing at the exchange. They both knew Yaa was going to win this fight.

“I’m glad they taught you how to be observant in law school.”

“Yeah, of fucking course. You seem to be pretty damn good at observations too, nigga.” Winston was shocked. His train of thought stopped as he realized his attempts at sneaking looks at her failed. He hid his shame and defeat with a rather stoic stare; Yaa returned his stare with a petty stare. After what seemed like forever of staring at each other, Yaa walked closer to Winston and signaled for him to match her height. “You actin’ like I didn’t see your tree ass eye-fucking me all night from all the way over here. Yes, I’m short, but that doesn’t mean I don’t peep shit, Big Fella. I’m about to head to this here cash bar. You coming or not?” Yaa whispered in his ear. She walked away with an extra pep in her switch. She wanted him to know that the ass he was staring at all night wasn’t restrained by the confines of a Spanx. He followed her like a little puppy.

After getting drinks, they began talking; their connection was instant. He found himself making jokes just to hear her infectious laughter. She found herself falling in love with his gap-toothed smile and hearty laughter. They discussed each other’s costume and found many common interests.

“So you’ve really been a Selena fan your entire life?”, Winston inquired, “ I just saw the biopic two years ago and I’ve been a fan ever since. I don’t speak Spanish, but her music is everything.”

“Yeah. When my dad was teaching me Spanish, my personal goal was to translate Selena songs without a translator. It also improved my Spanish skills before I needed them.” Yaa answered.

“So you’re fluent now, yeah?”

“I’m fluent in four languages.”

Winston was shocked, “Seriously?!”

“Yeah, there are a lot of things, you’ll learn about me.” She winked.

Suddenly, “Bidi Bidi Bom Bom” came on. The DJ acknowledged Yaa as she made her way to the dancefloor, mic in hand. The DJ started the track back again. Yaa transformed into her idol and the force of the Tejano Queen was with Yaa. She glided as she danced around the dancefloor. Winston watched in amazement. When she finished, the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Winston was the first one to greet her she left the floor. He told her how amazing she looked and how he felt like Selena was on the floor.

For the remainder of the night, Yaa and Winston talked on the balcony of the venue in the cool nighttime October breeze. They exchanged numbers and social media handles as they walked towards Yaa’s car. He almost stepped on her to get the door for her. “I’m sorry, but you won’t touch that handle, at least when I’m around.” Yaa looked at him with a shocked expression on her face. “You sound pretty confident you’re staying around, Mr. Duke. Tanisha didn’t tell you I drop niggas like a bad phone call?” Winston smirked. “She did,but that doesn’t apply to me.” He closed her car door and waved as she drove away.

When Yaa finally got home, Tanisha was on the couch waiting for her.

“BITCH! You got that nigga in love with your little ass.” Neesh interjected as her head fell back in laughter.

“Whatever. I hate to say it, but you were right: he ain’t that bad. Quincy could never.”

“Yeah,yeah. Thank me at y’alls wedding.”

Yaa rolled her eyes. “Bitch, fuck you.” she laughed. “We have a date in three weeks.”

Neesh’s eyes and grin grew wide. “A WHAT?! Does he know you��re in D.C. now?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t know how my situation would be.”

The two talked about their night and how boo’d up Yaa was. Though she wanted to deny it, her glow and goofy grin were saying otherwise. “I think it’s him.”

The The peanut butter to my jelly:

@great-neckpectations @randomwordprompts @blackgirloneshots @babygirlofwakanda @kumkaniudaku @royallyprincesslilly @eriknutinthispoosy @teheeboo @texasbama @wakandan-flowerz @soldierandawar @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @vanitykocaine @sarahboseman @niquelafleur @blackpantherismyish @pastelastronomy24