#they launch it and have to chase it down

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 11

More of a funny shenanigans one.

Danny has been chasing his rouges all throughout the country. Whatever city he is in some form of shenanigans occur. Due to the GIW he decided to do it human. He has his parents travel devices and inventions so it will be easy peasy.

Metropolis he steals some kryptonite and feeds it to cujo. Obviously cujo is coming as a guard dog. Danny can’t control him plus the dog could smell the ecto candy. Danny is munching some as well all while he soups whichever rouge it is.

Central city he bugs the flash about how he could mess with the flow of time. He thinks it’s cool and clockwork allows it cause it’s funny. (Clockwork let’s ppl figure out not to mess with time themselves. Danny leaned when vlad ended up with his mom and jack had ecto acne flash would figure it out) But he just tells it to Barry no care that he isn’t in costume.

Runs into wonder woman and is just an absolutely fanboy. Gushing. About everything she’s done. He drops knowledge about feats he shouldn’t know cause pandora told him stories about her.

Runs into Constantine and just praises him for his soul selling. It’s just chaos whenever the ghost council meets. Danny is a gremlin he got in a prank war with vlad he absolutely would think it’s hilarious. He knows a few beings who bought his soul as well and name drops them.

Youngblood wants to do an underwater adventure. He’s been a cowboy and pirate so why not underwater diver. So now Danny is in the ocean dealing with an enemy aqua man can’t see. Aqua lad is just describing Youngblood with googles on. Danny has a fenton work product letting him dive in the sea. Anything with Youngblood is a shenanigans enough said.

In Gotham he wasn’t expecting a not quite a halfa, red hood. Now when his rouge goes to cause property damage he goes to soup them. It sucks in red hood. Danny didn’t want red hood soup.

Danny then panics trying to release the thermos. All while the batfam are watching the exchange. Danny is frantically apologizing and just failing to open it.

By the time he gets it open he is just embarrassed. His rouge is free and took off. So Danny goes invisible forgetting he was supposed to act human and pretends it never happened.

The next justice league would be hilarious

[cyberspaceoddity]

Just had a fucking category 5 cat moment

[sweetang3ls]

I read your human Jake x reader, could you do a human Jake x reader smut please?like the cur scene where Jake found trudy&norm but it's norm finding you and Jake

Ride me

Jake Sully x female reader

18+

Requests:open

(I am writing more human!Jake)

Warning: Acting innocent, kissing,smut!, Not proofread

The air was thick and hot, the feeling of his sweaty hands gripped tightly on your waist pushing you down hard making sure to completely full you up. The sound of your moans captured by the blanket over the two of you,just hoping that it somewhat muffled both of your lewd noises.

Earlier that day you had made it your duty to tease the hell out of Jake for all the time he spent in his avatar body, you made it your duty to show him what he's been missing the past week or so. He has been assigned to help in the lab to identify some of the Omaticaya's sacred plants and animals. So you decided to put on a tight see through dress with your lab coat over.

"They called it the Zeykoyu Syulang.(healer flower)" Jake said leaning against the hologram desk pointing towards a red and orange flower. "They used it on those who were hurt or have cuts,it heals super fast too." Norm nodded and typed in what jake said.

Jake wheeled away from the table over to where you were bent over by your desk.

"Jesus!" You felt a hard smack on your ass and then laughter shortly after,"Jake!" You whisper yelled at him turning around and smacking his hand while you watched him smirk.

"what? Come on I can tell what you're doing. I'm not dumb." "I don't know what you mean." He gave you a blank stare ,"yeah you do, you just so happened to wear the sluttiest dress you had the day I had to help in the lab?" You just smiled and walked away.

True you knew what you were doing, you wanted Jake to know what he missed while he was too busy with neytiri. "Well how would you know I don't always dress like this now? You're always so busy with your avatar." Jake wheeled towards you again," I'm sorry I've been so busy,you know I am. Its just fun." "I bet it is." You walked back to your desk purposely making Jake follow you

"Sounds like someone's jealous."

"oh please of what?"

"I get a cool big blue guy while you're stuck here writing notes and throwing liquids into other liquids."

"well I just so happen to like writing notes and 'throwing liquids into other liquids' jake." You sat on your desk being just above face view of Jake while he wheeled and slot himself Infront of you.

He looked at you with the most shit eating grin he could muster while you just stared down at him,"God wipe that stupid smug grin off your face." You pushed his face to the side,"come on you love this smile, you just wanna kiss it until you die don't you?" You narrowed your eyes giving him the same grin,"Oh do I?" He got closer to your face,"I think you do." You pulled him by his shirt into a kiss. His lips were kind of chapped but also super soft.

You've been aching for a kiss for so long and it finally happened. His hand slid up your dress cupping your thigh as you put your hand on his cheek. "Ahem! Sully how about we save that for a more private space and not Infront of the whole team,okay? You can fool around with doctor y/n some other place." You heard grace interrupt you guys causing you to launch your self back pushing Jake off you and quickly fixing your dress.

"Sorry grace." Jake turned towards grace and made it very obvious it was sarcasm. He turned back to you laughing a little,"shall we?" He held his hand out for you to grab as you did so he took you to his room.

So that's why you're here now, riding him hoping to chase your release. "Fuck yeah, just like that pretty girl." Jake moaned silently just loud enough for you to hear. You moved so you were fully upright now letting all of him sink into you,"o-oh fuck Jake!" You moved your hands onto his chest to keep yourself sturdy as you snapped your hips up and down.

Jakes eyes were just fixated on your tits the whole time you bounced on him. He loved the feeling of your tits just shoved in his face or in hands. "Keep going princess,doing so good ,mhm?"

You're forehead dripped in sweat while your thighs and his dick were coated in arousal. He moved your hair behind your ear,"go faster,I'm gonna cum soon." You picked up the pace causing you to absolutely let yourself go by just releasing a wonton of moans. Just as you felt yourself on edge you heard Jakes door open.

"Okay grace said- oh my god Jesus!" Norm practically screamed as you pulled the covers off your guys heads to see what was happening. "Norm what the fuck!" You screamed covering your body with the blanket. "What? Dude don't you knock?" Jake said so casually moving his hands to hold the blanket tightly around you.

"well I didn't expect this to be what I walked in on it's just .. it's ,god I'll tell you tomorrow I need some time." Norm practically ran out.

You fell onto Jakes chest in a ball of embarrassment. He just chuckles rubbing your back.

[svnnytarg]

This is the last request from my old blog! I finally made it through all of them!

Tw: noncon, manipulation, imprisonment, abuse (spanking w/ a crop)

Aegon Targaryen (The Conqueror)

Aegon had hoped that his beloved wife would grow tired of her games. He had certainly grown tired of them. He didn’t want to walk into her chambers to see her climbing out of her window or already out of the room and somewhere for him to find her.

He knew why she did this, of course. He was too controlling. He wouldn’t let her have her freedom. The most hurtful one, was when she claimed that he didn’t love her. She had told him all of this and he had a reason for all of it. He loved her, despite her disagreement. He wanted her safe and sound and somewhere where he could always keep an eye on her.

He had told her all of this in the hopes that she might understand. He only wanted to protect her, but she seemed insistent on disobeying him. On finding trouble and running from him as though he was her captor.

He always found her. How could he not? He needed only to mount Balerion and take to the skies. He could see everyone and everything from the back of his dragon. When he found her, he grabbed her, ignoring her shouts of profanities and cruel words, and threw her over the saddle of his dragon to take her home.

He had had enough. He was tired of chasing her and of her disobeying. Perhaps if she spent more time with him and less time trying to run away she would see that his love was genuine. So when they returned to the castle, he was the one to drag her to his chambers. She would no longer have her own. It is too much of a risk for her to be by herself.

He informed his guards that she was not only not allowed to leave their chambers but that they were to never take their eyes off of her. She had made her distaste for his solution obvious as she hurled a vase at him or a paperweight or anything really anytime he entered their shared chambers. Eventually, though, after some time, she calmed. She was no longer launching projectiles at him or shouting profanities at him. In fact, after several turns of the moon, a maester had confirmed her to be with child.

Aegon had been so caught up in his own happiness that he failed to see the gray pallor that his wife’s face turned. Not only would he have a child from each one of his wives but perhaps this would be what his beloved wife needed to stay here with him.

Maegor Targaryen (The Cruel)

Maegor is tired of his wife’s games quickly. He knows that she holds no love for him as he does for her but like a fool, he cannot help but hold out hope that one day if she allowed herself, she could love him back.

The problem is, is that she doesn’t try. On the nights that he spends with one of his other wives, he always comes back to his own chambers the next morning with a guard waiting for him. Waiting to tell him of his wife’s latest attempt at escaping.

He wastes no time in punishing her. Every other time he had let her disobedience slide but now he can’t look past it. The lords and ladies at court have begun to gossip. His other wives have heard of the attempted escapes and he doesn’t need them all trying to leave him.

When he strips her naked and tied her to her bed with her stomach touching the mattress, he kisses her cheek gently as she starts to cry softly. He doesn’t want to do this. She was a gentle woman who frightened easily. He loved her and wished he didn’t have to do this, but she had to learn that she was not only disobeying her husband but her King.

When the crop that he took from the stables comes down on her rear for the first time, she yells in pain and surprise. Maegor isn’t gentle. She would not learn the error of her ways if he were gentle.

He brings down the crop again, letting the sound of the leather on her flesh filled the room. She cries out again and without seeing her face, he knows she’s crying. He thought of gagging her but decided against it. It would be more effective if her cries could be heard throughout the corridors. That even the lowly servants know that not even a beloved wife of his is above punishment.

After the third smack of the crop against her warming backside, he stops for a moment. He rubs his hand soothingly up and down her back as she cries. In between her cries and hiccups, she promises she won’t try to escape again. She promises to listen to him, but it is too late. He has to follow through or otherwise she might think he’ll always let her get away with whatever she wishes if she sheds a few tears.

“My beloved,” he begins, Maegor tries to keep his tone soft as he speaks to her. He finds it hard, though, as he hardens in his trousers at her warm round cheeks and her sobs. “I have to teach you a lesson. You cannot keep disobeying your King and think you can get away with it. If it were anyone else, at the very least I’d have their head torn from their body.”

His wife whimpers at his words but he only tucks her hair behind her ear and continues, “it is because I love you that I am giving you a chance to learn from your mistakes but to learn I must finish with your punishment.”

Her head shakes violently but he pulls away and grips the crop hard again. He watched her ball her hands up in preparation for the blow and when it her cries can still be heard in the corridors.

Daemon Targaryen

After the first few attempts from his beloved wife trying to escape him and leave, Daemon decided to make a game of it. As he did with most things in his life.

He loved his wife, dearly. He would never truly let her leave him. He would, however, give her the illusion that she could. When he saw her watching him or keeping an eye on his patterns, he knew that she was planning her next attempt and Daemon would pretend not to notice. He would let her sneak out of the castle, only to be following behind her quietly so she couldn’t see or hear him. He would watch as she tried to buy her way out of the city and tried to hold his smirk back when she was always denied.

Everyone in King’s Landing knew who her husband was. They knew what he would do to them if he found out that they had helped his wife leave him.

He would tire of the game, though. As the night would wear on, her shoulders would slump and exhaustion would deep into her bones and that’s when Daemon would make himself known. He’d wrap an arm around her waist and cover her mouth with his hand. He would relish in her struggling as he pulled her into a dark alleyway.

He wouldn’t say anything as she pleaded for him to let her go. No matter how many times he had done this, he would always find pleasure in her not knowing it was him who pushed her against the brick wall. Who pulled the laces of her bodice away to expose her tits and lift her skirts to reveal her underclothes, which he promptly cut through with the dagger he brought with him.

He’d wait until she was sobbing and begging for him to let her go to finally free his aching cock and run it against her folds. She tried to get away from him. She always did. Whether it was in the Red Keep or in the alleys of flea bottom and she had no idea that it was him about to claim her body.

His hand slithered around her waist and pulled her body against his as he let his cock grind against her slit. His other hand gripped her throat roughly, cutting off her cries as he finally pushed his hardened length into her tight cunt. He groaned quietly and finally leaned down so his lips brushed the side of his face as he whispered, “you shouldn’t run from me, wife. You are much safer in the Red Keep with me than you are out here.”

She whimpered and her hot tears from the palm that covered her mouth. He fucked up into her harder, not interested in being kind to her tonight. After all, she did try to run away and leave him. An act like that should be punished.

As he rutted roughly into her he continued to whisper in her ear, “you never know who you’ll run into out here or what they’ll do to you.”

Aemond Targaryen

Sometimes when his dear wife tries to run away, he feels an inkling of sadness for her. Not because he feels bad, of course, she swore an oath to be his wife. No, he thinks, he feels bad for her because she had not thought any of this through.

If she wanted to leave him. Desert her husband and flee a home of luxury, she should have done it early in their marriage. She should have left before she bore him a son and a daughter. She hadn’t, though. So now every time she would try to leave, she would not only try and leave him but their children as well. He knew that when she looked at them, with their silver hair and their talk in High Valyrian, she was reminded of him.

His wife was a mystery to him. He gave her his love and time. He showered her with affection and never let her be alone, so she would never feel lonely.

Here she was, though. Brought into his chambers by a guard that caught her trying to stow away on a ship. She wiggled and struggled in the guard's grasp but it yielded no results. He waved for the guards to unhand her and they left without a word, closing the heavy doors behind them as all the fight left his wife, leaving her to stand there deflated.

It is silent in the room as she watches him, waiting for an outburst that won’t come. He studies her with his eye and finally sighs, sitting in his favorite chair by the fire and motioning for her to take a seat across from him. When she doesn’t move he tries to not let it show that it bothers him.

Finally, after a crackle of the burning logs, he speaks, “have I not given you enough?”

He can hear her swallow loudly from across the room and despite her voice coming out shaky, he knows that she is trying to sound strong.

“What have you given me husband, other than misery?”

His fist clenched and his knuckles crack at her question. How could she not see everything he has given her? How could the woman he loved be so deeply ungrateful?

“What haven’t I given you? That is the question you should be asking,” he says and stands up smoothly. He walks towards her swiftly and she eyes him warily. She acts as though he will hurt her but since they began courting he has never once done anything to harm her. It makes him want to grind his teeth in anger. What could he do to make her not see a monster? Wasn’t his wife supposed to see more than those gossips in court? “I have given you all of my love. I have given you my time and affection. I have given you my name and filled you with my seed so that we may enjoy parenthood together.”

He pauses to catch his breath and while he does he watches her face, it remains unchanged by his words and so he continues, just down a different path.

“Tell me, wife,” he can’t help but practically hiss that word. “If I am not enough for you. If my love is not enough to make you happy here and you insist on leaving because I am such a monster…why would you leave our children here?”

That was the part that truly hurt him. Their children were everything to him. Had one of them asked for a star from the sky he would mount Vaghar and attempt to pluck it from the Heavens but here their mother was, standing before him, ready to abandon their most beautiful creations.

“Once I got away I would have sent for them.” She finally answers and he can tell by the way she won’t meet his eye that it is a lie. He thinks, not for the first time that he is not the monster in this marriage, that it is her, and yet he cannot stop his heart from aching for her.

He sighs, the disappointment clear on his face. He reaches up and strokes his thumb over her cheek and she looks like she either wants to flinch away or bite him. Probably both, for he has learned that he married a feral woman.

“You will stay here, not just in the Red Keep but in your chambers with only one servant to keep you company until you learn not to run away from your duties.”

She opens her mouth to interject but he places a finger over her plump lips and continues, “you will not see our children for you do not appreciate them. I won’t force you to be around children you are so easily ready to abandon. They deserve better.”

He removes his hand from her face and strides towards the door. It is only when he is about to pull the heavy doors open to leave that he turns back to her and says, “I do love you, my wife, but if you run again I will show you why so many people fear me.”

[tastefulstars]

The Boys Next Door 2: Electric Boogaloo

Moments of your life with Eddie and Steve and Mr. Meowgi.

eddie munson x f!reader x steve harrington

warnings: 18+ only mdni. the trio being soft and living their lives together. oral (f&m receiving), piv. unprotected sex. mentions of harassment (nothing graphic). little moments of sad/angst, not proof read lol.

masterlist

You were having a bad day after a string of bad days.

The week dragged by slowly and everything that could go wrong, seemed to go wrong.

It was already dark when you shuffled through the door, having had to stay late at work - fixing all the mistakes of the day. All you wanted to do was to collapse in bed and sleep.

You knew you couldn’t - you had to walk Mr. Meowgi, had to feed him, had to have dinner, had to shower and prepare for the next day, had to at least pop your head next door and say hello to your boys.

You don’t notice them, Eddie in the kitchen and Steve on the couch. You don’t even have the energy to feel surprised when you’re being lifted off your feet. You crack open your eyes and peer up at Eddie.

“Long day, doll?” He asks softly, carrying you to your room. You just grunt in response and let your eyes fall closed again. You’re being placed gently down on the bed, falling back and splayed out.

You feel Eddie’s hands gently pulling at your shoes, there’s another set of hands joining in easing you out of your clothes.

They’re moving you and tucking you into bed, firm hands and stern voices when you protest. You move to get up and you’re pushed back down.

“Stop-” You groan, “Got stuff to do”

“No you don’t” Eddie fires back, climbing into the bed with you and trapping you against his chest.

“Gotta walk-”

“Already done” Steve interrupts, joining you both.

“And make di-”

“Nope, we’ve already sorted it” Eddie sighs.

“Anything else?” Steve teases and you grumble, relenting and letting yourself give into their relaxing warmth.

--

You’re all squished onto your small couch, Eddie awkwardly laying across yours and Steve’s laps as you watch the tv and Mr. Meowgi perched on the back of the couch. You’re gently carding your fingers through his hair, untangling knots and pressing your fingers firmly against his scalp.

Eddie moans, loudly, at your ministrations. Steve huffs and murmurs ‘cut it’ to him, squeezing his calf.

“Or what?” Eddie teases, ‘It’s not my fault our girl has the fingers of a goddess”

Steve glares at him and you quickly remove your hands from Eddie’s hair - knowing what Steve was about to do. Steve pushes Eddie’s legs, shoving Eddie off the couch with a yelp.

You bite your lip in an attempt not to laugh as Eddie glowers at Steve, rubbing his side, and that does it. Eddie’s launching himself at Steve and they’re tumbling to the floor. Eddie’s got his legs wrapped around Steve’s side, trapping his arms and he’s biting at Steve’s shoulder.

“Ahh! Stop!” Steve cries, wheezing, “I’m sorry! Sorry!”

“That’s what I thought” Eddie says, triumphantly.

Your quiet laughter has their eyes snapping to you and you point your finger at them.

“No”

Their grins has your stomach twisting and you’re pulling yourself up the couch, trying to climb over the arm rest.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Eddie says, too sweet.

“Don’t wanna play with us?” Steve asks.

“No!”

You laugh, jumping off the couch and running down the hall as they reach for you. You hear their footsteps hurrying after you and you shriek with giggles as they chase you around the apartment.

“Mr. Meowgi! Save me!” You shout, reaching for him as a set of arms wrap around you.

--

“We’re going to go dance”

You press a kiss on Eddie’s and Steve’s cheeks and grab Nancy and Robin’s hands, leading them to the dance floor. They laugh as you use your hold on them to spin them around.

“They’re crazy about you, y’know?” Robin says, voice raised above the music. You wrap your arm around her waist and pull her in, moving your ear close to her lips and she repeats herself.

You feel your cheeks heat and your face scrunches in happiness, Nancy laughs at your reaction and you can’t wipe the grin off your face.

“If it helps-” You shout, “I’m crazy ‘bout them”

They beam at you and you see Nancy mouth ‘good’ at you, and the three of you dance until you feel a pair of hands rest on your hips. You hum and crane your neck and startle when it’s not Steve or Eddie, you pull away and step back, putting distance between you.

The guy scoffs and presses back in your space, grabbing at you, trying to press his lips onto yours and not noticing or caring when you push at him, trying to get him to let you go.

Eddie and Steve appear and they’re yanking the guy off you, Steve’s wrapping his arm around you while Eddie shoves him away. You’re shaking and feel tears in your eyes.

They lead you to a quiet spot at the back of the club and you crumple, scared and feeling disgusted about what had happened. Eddie gently holds you against his chest as Steve gathers your things and lets the other’s know the that the three of you were leaving. They hold you between them as they guide you out of the club and you gasp at the cool air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” You’re whispering, over and over - you can’t stop shaking and you can’t stop the tears from falling.

Eddie’s lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you tight as he carries you home, Steve’s gripping tight onto one of your hands and you hide your face in Eddie’s neck.

--

You wake gently, a soft weight on your cheek pulls you from your slumber. You stretch and rub at your eyes and the action has your boys cooing at you.

You peek at them and your smile is as bright as the sun.

They’ve got shiny party hats resting on their heads, Eddie has two. Steve’s got Mr. Meowgi cradled in his arms who also has a party hat resting in between his pointy ears.

You laugh at the sight and sit up, reaching for Mr. Meowgi. You cuddle him and lavish him with kisses, telling him he’s just the cutest boy you’ve ever seen.

Eddie makes a small noise and you glace up at him, both of them pouting at you. You laugh again and reach for them, with a soft ‘I suppose you two are pretty cute too’.

“Happy birthday, baby!” Steve cheers, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Happiest of Birthday’s!” Eddie chimes in, kissing you as soon as Steve pulls away.

“You know what this means, right?” Eddie asks, serious and you shake your head.

“What?”

“Birthday sex”

You cackle at him.

“What’s the difference between regular sex and birthday sex?” You giggle.

“Well, for starters - birthday sex is when you have sex on your birthday” Eddie huffs, Steve nodding in agreement.

“And-” Steve adds, “It means we’re going to try and make you come as many times as your age today”

“Jesus fucking Christ” You hiss, eyebrows shooting up, “You want me to die?”

“What a way to go” Steve laughs, moving and picking up Mr. Meowgi. He takes him out of the room and you hear him saying ‘look, we love you bub but it’s your mama and daddies private time now’.

Eddie is pulling at the party hats on his head, grunting when they tangle in his hair. You laugh softly and reach over, helping him.

He reaches over after tossing the hats, cupping your cheek and stroking your lips with his thumb.

“Happy birthday, beautiful girl” He breathes, leaning in and kissing you tenderly.

You loose yourself in the kiss, heart beating fast and moaning softly into his mouth. Steve hums softly as he returns, admiring the two of you.

Eddie’s pulling the blanket off you, and Steve’s climbing back onto the bed - reaching for your sleep shirt and tugging it off.

They’re lowering you onto the bed and Eddie is shifting, resting between your legs and he’s lapping at your folds, making you keen softly. Steve’s leaning over you, mouthing at your breasts.

They worship you.

It feels like hours, hours of Eddie devouring your cunt and Steve nipping and sucking at your breasts and nipples, before Eddie’s pressing inside you. He’s rocking gently and Steve’s gently pressing his fingers against your clit and murmuring soft words into your chest.

You’ve never felt so loved, so wanted, as Eddie and Steve make love to you.

It’s not long until white heat explodes under your skin and Eddie’s moaning into your shoulder, spilling inside you.

Steve replaces Eddie between your legs, pushing inside you just as softly as Eddie did, rocking deeply. Eddie cups your jaw and presses delicate kisses on your lips.

You’re moaning and whining and pleading, needing to climax and Eddie shushes you - kissing his way down your throat and gently fingering your clit.

“Come on, Honey” Steve whispers, and you cry out loudly as your second orgasm washes over you.

“Love you, love you both” You’re chanting softly, moaning.

Eddie kisses you desperately.

“I love you, baby” He says, pressing his lips all over your face before capturing Steve in a messy kiss, “I love you, big boy”

“Love you, my angels” Steve shudders and spills inside you.

--

Eddie’s nightmares seemed to be getting more frequent, more intense. You often wake in the middle of the night to his frantic, heart breaking, shouts.

You press yourself close to Eddie, Steve pressed against Eddie’s other side, both your arms wrapped tight around him. You kiss his shoulder as he shakes against you.

“Eds?” You murmur, “I know I’ve never asked - and I’m not pressuring you. But if you want to talk, it might help?”

You feel him tense under you, and you just press your cheek against his arm, wishing you could take away his pain.

“It’s up to you” You whisper, “Either way, I’m here for you, okay?”

He takes a shuddering breath and you don’t see him glance at Steve who shrugs softly in response. Steve presses a kiss on Eddie’s hair.

“If you want” Steve murmurs.

“Can you?” Eddie’s voice is small, shaky and Steve hums, kissing him again.

“We’ve never really told you about what happened when we were in school, have we?” Steve starts, you shake your head.

“There was this girl-”

Steve tells you everything, every horrible thing that they went through and your heart hurts for them. You clutch them against you and listen attentively, by the end of their story - the sun is creeping up from beyond the horizon and you’re weeping softly.

You press kisses onto their faces, holding them close and whisper gentle words to them.

“I’m so sorry, you’re both so brave, you’ve been through so much, you’re so strong and it’s okay to cry. It’s okay, you’re safe and I’ll never let anything bad happen to you”

--

Mr. Meowgi hasn’t been acting like himself, not eating, not playing and barely moving and you’re beside yourself with worry.

It was a rare day that the three of you weren’t together, and you’re sobbing as you bang on their door. They’re there, helping you load him into your car and Steve’s driving and Eddie is holding your hand as you cry and cling to Mr. Meowgi.

It’s Eddie who carefully picks him up, cradling him against his chest and making soft soothing noises as Mr. Meowgi cries out. Your heart is breaking and you can’t stop sobbing.

Steve holds you as the three of you rush into the Vet, Eddie holds you as they examine Mr. Meowgi. They press themselves close as you wait, wait for the emergency scans and the Vet to come tell you what’s wrong with your baby.

Your hands are covering your face and Eddie presses his cheek against the top of your head and Steve’s arm is wrapped tight around your waist.

They were just as worried, as scared but were trying their hardest to keep themselves together for you.

The vet is there but you can’t understand what they’re saying and let Steve and Eddie discuss it. Eddie cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“He’s going to be okay” His voice breaks through your panic and you almost collapse, and now you’re sobbing with relief.

“He’s going to stay overnight, honey” Steve says softly, rubbing your back, “But he’s going to be okay”

“The vet said he must of gotten bitten by a bug or something on one of his walks and had a bit of a reaction to it” Eddie tells you, “They’ve given him some medicine and are going to just monitor him tonight - we’ll come get him tomorrow, okay doll?”

You nod and feel exhaustion slam into you, wiped from the roller-coaster of emotions.

They hold you close that night, the apartment quiet without Mr. Meowgi padding around, playing with his toys, meowing for attention.

--

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said” Steve says absently, “about moving in together”

You shift from your spot on the floor where you’re brushing Mr. Meowgi, turning your head enough to gaze at Steve. He’s fidgeting and his eyes are darting around the room.

“Yeah?” You breathe, hope blooming in your chest. Eddie’s staring at Steve, waiting for him to continue.

“Yeah. I’ve- I’ve been saving, for a while, and I- why not? Let’s do it. I can’t think of a better way to start out future”

Your breath is catching, and you’re beaming.

“I’ve been savin’ too” Eddie adds, “Honestly since you mentioned it doll, it’s all I’ve been thinking about”

You think you might explode from happiness and you squeak, launching yourself at them and making Mr. Meowgi startle from the sudden movement. Steve and Eddie are laughing as you press kisses all over them.

The three of you spent months, months, searching.

You didn’t know how many houses you’d inspected but nothing was right - the house was too big, or too small, or the backyard wasn’t big enough, or the kitchen wasn’t good enough, or you hated the layout.

You were almost on the verge of giving up when Steve found a house for sale a little ways out of town that was perfect. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eddie this anxious, or Steve this frantic, as you waited to find out if the home was yours.

Steve’s got the phone clutched in his hand, knuckles white and face blank as he listens to the agent.

“Thanks” He sighs, hanging up. You feel your heart drop and you cling to Eddie’s arm.

“Well?” Eddie asks, impatient. Steve blinks and turns to you both.

“We got it!” He shouts and Eddie is spinning you around and the three of you are jumping, screaming with excitement.

Once the three of you settle, you groan.

“Ugh, now we have to pack”

Steve’s delighted laughter fills the space and Eddie squeezes your waist.

“Ah don’t worry, baby girl” He laughs, “We’ll be suffering right along side ya”

--

You throw yourself on your bed, the move had been grueling and your whole body ached, and you knew Steve and Eddie were much the same.

Mr. Meowgi jumped on the bed and curled up at your side and you wrap your arm around him. His deep purrs soothe you to sleep.

You stir when you feel the bed dipping, but sigh softly as an arm wraps around your back and let yourself slip back into sleep.

You spent the next few weeks unpacking and trying your hardest to make your new house a home in your spare time. Fussing over everything, making sure every single thing had it’s place and was perfect. Steve and Eddie help you, patiently moving and rearranging the heavier things into the spots you ask.

Your heart flutters each time you open the door to your home, when you greet your boys with a soft kiss and a ‘welcome home’.

“You know what we have to do, right?” Eddie asks, after the three of you collapse the last box.

“What?” Steve responds.

“Gotta christen the house” He winks at you and Steve, you snort and Steve laughs.

“Yeah we do” Steve murmurs and presses a heated kiss on Eddie’s lips. You bite your lip and a hot thrill shoots down your torso as you watch them, clinging together.

You’re pressing yourself against Steve’s back and you’re on your knees, taking him in your mouth as Eddie presses into you from behind.

--

You’re anxious, knee bouncing as you wait. Eddie’s biting his thumb and Steve’s pacing.

The timer goes off and you startle. The boys, stare at you as you pick up the test. Your heart shudders, you breathe in sharply and let out a cry. There’s hands on you and soft words of ‘it’s okay, we’ll try again’ and you shake your head.

You spin, tears flowing.

“It’s positive” You sob, “I’m pregnant” 

You’re being scooped up in their arms and they hold you as the three of you cry together, excited to start the next chapter of your lives.

[darklordofthesimp]

Verity (Din Djarin x Reader)

On a remote planet, while chasing a bounty, you encountered a rare plant that produces the infamous "truth pollen". Not being able to lie is dangerous when you're in love with your Mandalorian employer.

PART 2

Requested by Anon:

#47: I forget how to speak whenever you’re around and it’s embarrassing.

A/N: OKAY LISTEN, my last 2 fics have gotten such bad engagement I don't have high hopes for this BUT if this goes good, would you want to see something where DIN is affected by the pollen?

Category: Mutual Pining - Involuntary Confession - Fluff - Angst If You Squint

Warnings: Swearing

You should have listened.

Though, to be fair, the Mandalorian had never explicitly told you to stay in the Crest- you saw it more as a strong suggestion. It was a new planet, some dirt ball in the middle of Wild Space that had been long forgotten by any traders or travelers. The bounty hunter had warned you to stay inside and you'd simply waved him off.

Now, laid out flat on your back, you thought he might have been right.

Your body protested against any attempt to get up and you opted to just still for a long, long moment. In your defense, you had just violently tumbled down into a rock bed.

You hissed, suddenly aware of the blood trickling down your cheek.

You thought you might have broken a bone or two, but with the 'wiggle' check you were pleasantly surprised to find nothing had snapped. Nothing other than your pride, that is.

Lush greenery pressed against your skin, soft leaves, and gentle blades of grass lathered into the landscape. The air was crisp, and as you started to regain control of your senses you realized you'd fallen into a small clearing. It was relatively shaded, with tall trees leaning over to shelter the small oasis you'd stumbled upon.

Forcing yourself up onto your elbows, your eyes widened as you drank in the sight before you. There were flowers everywhere.

The flora was a color you couldn't even begin to comprehend, a mixture of violet that made you think of the most tempting and delightful sins.

Where were you?

But you couldn't focus on the logistics of your situation, not when there was a wonder of nature less than two feet away. Where had these flowers come from? The teardrop petals fluttered lightly in the breeze, and suddenly your mind was consumed by the thought of their texture. You wondered if they felt like silk...

If you could just touch them to test your theory, you could be on your merry way. You were sure of it.

Pain and injury were forgotten as you stood to your feet slowly, feeling as though you were having an out-of-body experience when you approached the plant. It was almost glowing up close and you couldn't understand how this shit hole of a planet could have created something so ethereal.

You reached for the flower eagerly, awaiting the soft touch of those pretty petals.

By the time you realized something was wrong, it was too late.

___

You wheezed, rubbing the length of your sleeve against your nose. The trek back had been far longer than you'd anticipated and you knew Mando was going to be pissed.

Coincidentally, the hunter appeared to be on his way out as you approached, equipped with all of his "work" apparatus. Had he not found the bounty yet?

"Where have you been?"

His words were sharp and you winced, slowing your pace to a sheepish shuffle. When he promptly unslung his rifle, you realized that he wasn't going hunting, he was about to launch a one-man rescue party.

You couldn't tell him the truth, he would follow you around for months if you did. Constantly supervising you for the sake of your safety.

But instead of the excuses you had prepared, when you opened your mouth to respond, different words formed on your tongue.

"I was exploring and got lost."

Your jaws snapped shut instantly and you slapped a hand over your lips. Why had you just said that?

The Mandalorian's shoulders raised, instantly irritated with how blatantly you blew off his advice. You hadn't even sounded guilty, just factual.

"I told you that was a bad idea," he griped, turning on his heel. "What if something had happened? What if you'd gotten hurt and I couldn't find you in time?"

He stomped back into the ship and you followed guiltily behind, trailing him to the armory as he begun to offload his weapons. There was pressure in your chest at his words and at first glance, you thought it was just remorse for making him worry. When your mouth opened to respond where you hadn't wanted to, you realized it was something else.

"I did get hurt."

You stumbled back, throwing both hands over your mouth. The Mandalorian stiffened, softly placing the items in his hand against the table.

"Where?"

Again, the words fell from your lips involuntarily, "Everywhere. I fell into a rock bed."

He said nothing as he turned around, watching your panic increase when you couldn't gain control over your own tongue.

"I can't stop talking," you gasped, terror crawling along the length of your chest until it lodged itself firmly in your throat. "I don't want to say any of this."

Before you noticed he'd even moved, the bounty hunter filled your vision, gently ushering you to a cushioned bench you had created. He set you down, before crouching in front of you.

"Did you touch any plants you've never seen before?" While the words sounded calm, you could hear the underlying dread in his tone.

"Yes." You let loose a soft sob.

"What color?"

"Violet."

"Shit," he hissed.

When your chest began to heave with trepid breaths, Mando raised his hands quickly.

"No, no, it's okay. Don't panic, it won't hurt you," he soothed, nodding softly. "The effects will wear off soon."

You shook your head, dropping your face into the palms of your hands. You should have just listened to him from the beginning, he wasn't talking out of his ass, the hunter was only trying to help you. Why did you insist on fighting him every damned step of the way?

"What did I touch?" You asked, the tone hopeless even when muffled by your palms.

There was a short silence, as though Mando was bracing himself. "It's a rare flower. The pollen..."

He trailed off and you lifted your face from where you hid. The hunter was still crouched in front of you, mere inches from your body, watching you as he deliberated his next words. He was so close that it set your heart rocketing against your rib cage, and you wondered what he looked like when he was in deep thought.

Pressure built in your chest. You ground your teeth shut.

"It acts as a truth serum," he finished solemnly. "You can't lie."

The ground felt like it had been ripped out from underneath you. This was bad, this was so fucking bad.

"No," you rasped, shaking your head adamantly. "No, no, this isn't good."

The Mandalorian leaned back on his haunches, hands resting together against his thighs. You were sure that you looked crazy, telling the truth wasn't exactly a curse.

"I'm not going to take advantage of this," the hunter murmured, and if you hadn't known any better, you would have thought that he sounded almost hurt. "I won't ask questions you don't want to answer."

"You won't need to," you moaned miserably, throwing your head right back into your hands.

"What are you so afraid of?" Mando stretched his hand towards you and you were touched by his concern. Gloved fingers rested gently against your shoulders, sending your heart into overdrive.

"You!" The word was barely a gasp but it was as if they had burned him. He snatched his arm away and leaned back, watching you in what you could only imagine was shock and hurt. It was as if you had slapped him.

Your heart squeezed in your chest and before you'd realized what you were doing you gripped his hand tightly. "Not like that. I trust you, I trust you with everything in me."

There was a soft silence as he tilted his visor to watch where your fingers interlocked. You thought he might have been uncomfortable for a second there until he gave them a gentle squeeze. He was warm despite the leather, and at that moment you would have killed to touch his skin, vulnerable and human and real.

"Most open you've ever been," Mando snorted but it wasn't humorous, just quiet. "And it's when you're forced to."

Pressure built in your chest once again, and you tried to grit your teeth and cage the incoming confession. No matter how hard you tried, your mouth had a mind of its own.

"I forget how to speak whenever you’re around and it’s embarrassing," you rasped. "I don't hide away on purpose."

Red hot humiliation flared beneath your skin, heating your body up in a crashing wave. You felt your cheeks burn, sweat collecting against the back of your neck.

Tears gathered in your eyes and you were grateful that you had turned your face away from him earlier.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked gently after a long silence.

You wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

"No," you said quickly, throwing your hands to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the next words. "If you leave I'll never forget how embarrassing this was and will think that you're disgusted with me for the rest of our time together."

You tried to gesture for him to go, shooing him away with your hands despite what you had just admitted. For the first time ever, the Mandalorian looked so torn that he just trembled.

You could see the shake in his fingers, the way his body leaned this way, and then that.

"I can't walk away if it means that you'd be living like..." He trailed off, breathing heavily from beneath the beskar. "Why would you ever disgust me?"

You sobbed.

Throwing yourself to your feet, you tried to scramble away before your mouth moved. Anything to stop what would have been a sledgehammer to this delicate friendship you had fallen into. True to character, you just tripped over yourself, falling backward into the wall roughly.

The hunter shot to his feet, immediately trying to provide aid that you desperately swatted away.

"Because I love you."

The words fell from your lips, like a weeping whimper, but they might as well have been shouted from the top of the Crest. The way he froze in front of you showed you exactly how badly this was going to go.

"You're a Mandalorian, you're my employer, I'm nothing you've ever wanted and I love you. You'll find me disgusting for ruining this over stupid feelings and for looking at what I could never deserve."

This time, there was no silence like you thought there would be. You thought he would have turned on his heel and left, or yelled, or just left you there to simmer in silence as he stared.

Instead, he gripped your shoulders tightly.

"You think you don't deserve me?" He hissed.

You stared at him through teary lashes, bewildered. The word formed and you didn't fight it, too shocked to even comprehend what was happening.

"Yes."

He watched you for a long moment, fingers tightening against your skin. You wondered what was going through his head, where his emotions were leading him. You prayed that he wouldn't grow disgusted the longer he thought about it. You begged any deity that you could think of that he would move on and forget that this disaster had happened.

But the Mandalorian was anything but predictable.

"You love me?" His voice was hard.

Your lips trembled. "Yes."

"For how long?"

"When you saved the village in Sorgan. I knew then."

When he didn't respond, the adrenaline in your system left you shaking. You hated this, you wanted to die, you wanted to be anywhere other than in his arms.

"You said you wouldn't take advantage of this," you whispered, leaning away from him. "You said you wouldn't ask..."

The hunter's fingers softened against your skin, "you weren't going to tell me?"

You shook your head, "never."

Putting him in such an uncomfortable position was the last thing you had ever wanted for him. He was constantly under stress, rarely did anything go right for him and you were convinced that the poor man had the worst luck in the world. You didn't want to add to that, you wanted to be helpful, not a burden.

Especially not like this.

"I'm not taking advantage of you," he murmured, finally. "I just need to know if you're telling the truth."

You scoffed, casting your gaze to the side. "I can't lie."

"Now," Mando said softly, the intimate whisper trailing along the length of your skin. "I'm trying to find the courage."

You blinked up at him as he leaned you back against the durasteel wall, heart tripping in your chest. What was happening?

His hand slowly raised from your shoulder, to brush against your cheek, to then rest against your eyes. Darkness flooded your vision, and your other senses went into overdrive. You could smell the smokey scent of the hunter before you, and distantly you wondered how he always managed to smell of woodfire and spice.

There was a soft, metallic hiss from somewhere above you and you flinched.

"Can I kiss you?"

You choked on your own breath, chest heaving from the weight of his words. That simple, small question. For once, throughout this whole ordeal, you were glad that your mouth moved before you could direct it.

"You can."

There was a soft huff from above you.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

This time, it was you and not the pollen that answered.

"Yes."

And when he smiled this time, it was against your lips.

While the Mandalorian smelt of fire, battle, and blood, Din Djarin tasted sweet.

[blackfoxsposts]

Part 2

Part 1

A white gloved hand scuttled down the hall of the upper level. The rest of its body was floating invisible as the hand crawled up to a door.

Danny wasn't sure exactly which members of the Waynes family was home but he had seen the butler head upstairs sometime ago. Sure he could find someone the ghost way, but he had already committed to the bit. Even had his hand act like it climbed in through a window for the many security cameras. There was no way he'd give up the bit now and definitely not before he got a reaction from someone.

Danny lifted a pointer finger and pushed the door. It creaked open, the sound of a typing keyboard following its wake.

Ah, victims.

Danny poked his invisible head through the door, checking out the room's inhabitants.

Elegant tall bookcases took up most of the room. There was a desk, marking the room as a study, where a mug of coffee rested and a boy sat in a rolling chair. He tapped at a tablet, absentmindedly swiveling the chair. The sound of keyboard taping came from the chaise lounge. Sprawled out on it, a darker skinned boy tapped away on a laptop.

The boy with the laptop groaned, stretching backward on the lounge. He rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand.

"Hey Tim, could you lend me a hand with some editing?"

Danny had to. The pun was too perfect. Without a second thought he launched his hand at the boy that spoke landing on Duke's shoulder.

Duke checked at what landed on him before sending an annoyed look at Tim, who was still attending to his tablet

"Oh, haha," Duke grabbed the hand waving at Tim. "Very funny, were yo-" Danny flexed his fingers. If Duke shrieked, that's something only Tim and Danny will ever know.

Duke flung the hand away. Danny let the momentum carry him- his hand landing palm side up on the desk by Tim.

Tim glanced at it, barely taking his gaze away from his tablet, before doing a double take.

Danny flipped his hand over as the sleep deprived hero's brian tried to process what it was seeing. Tim started -tablet landing on the floor, a mug of coffee spilled. He rolled himself into a bookcase, knocking a few books off that landed on him while Duke grabbed the chaise' pillow and chucked it at the hand.

The hand scampered out of the room, ignoring the boy's shouts and dodging more thrown projectiles.

Danny had to get out before a chuckle escaped ruining the whole bit. Once he passed the door frame Danny paused for a brief moment to think on what to do. His hand jumped from side to side as he thought.

Should he disappear or lead the boys on a wild goose chase?

The sound of running footsteps behind him made his decision.

There was a decorative table with a fancy vase nearby that Danny went to, having his hand jump onto it. He barely crawled his hand into the vase before the door was flung open. Duke and Tim advanced into the hall, both had eyes searching for the hand.

@dontfightmecauseillcry @mimilikey @skulld3mort-1fan @aikoiya

[henderdads]

“Hey Eddie I’m going out with Robin tonight can you watch Holly so I don’t have to? Thank you!” Nancy leaves him standing outside his trailer with the small blonde child.

He goes wide eyed, yelling after her as she runs back to her car, “Nance I have a date with Ste-“ she slams her door shut and drives away.

“Oh come on! Jeeeeez-cheese on a cracker.” He stops himself as he remembers a literal child is just a few feet away from him. He turns to Holly who is now staring up at him.

“Hello small child.”

“It’s Holly you idiot.” She rolls her eyes.

“Damn kid. Okay uh- wasn’t really expecting a babysitting gig today. What do you wanna do?” Eddie rubs the back of his neck. He’s used to looking after Dustin or Max because they usually go off with the other gremlins anyway. Holly is a bit tricky. First things first though he has to call Steve and let him know they apparently have a third wheel today.

Eddie and Holly end up sitting in a small patch of grass just outside his trailer as they wait for Steve. She tells him all about how she and her best friend Katie made a whole town for their dolls to play in and he can’t help but smile as he listens to her. She’s so young and innocent and just gets to be a kid. Honestly it makes him just a little bit jealous.

He hears Steve pull up and get out, but he keeps his attention on Holly, now fully invested in the story she’s telling. Steve walks up to them and sits next to Eddie as she continues to talk their ears off. It takes her a full minute to even realize that Steve has joined them, jumping forward to hug him as soon as she notices he’s there. 

“Steve!!!”

He laughs, “Hey Holly! Sounds like you and Katie had lots of fun.”  

She giggles and Eddie creeps up behind her.

He touches her shoulder as he stands up, “Tag you’re it!” He runs off in the other direction as she squeals and runs off after him. Steve sits back up and softly laughs as he watches the two of them running around. Eddie slows his pace enough that she’s able to reach him.

“Got you!!”

“Aggghhhh you did! Guess that means I have to get you back huh?”

She runs off, Eddie chasing after her. He eventually catches up to her, spinning around as they both fall into a fit of laughter. Watching Eddie play with her warms Steve’s chest and his grin grows wider.

He’s going to be such an incredible father he thinks, his heart rate picking up as that takes him down a road of imagining having a family with him and the two of them being dads together. Christ Steve you’ve only been dating him for two months calm down. As he pulls himself out of his thoughts, he looks up and sees Eddie carrying Holly on his back as they walk back in his direction. Holly is holding a bouquet of dandelions and after she hops off of Eddie’s back, she runs up to Steve holding them out to him, “For you!” 

He gasps, dramatically putting a hand over his heart as he accepts them from her, “For me?! Why thank you Miss Holly!” 

“They’re from Eddie too!” Eddie blushes, pulling a strand of hair in front of his face as Steve takes the dandelions from her. 

“Are they now? Well I will keep these forever now.” He pulls one from the bunch and tucks it behind her ear, “But I think it’s only fair if you keep this one.” She smiles and starts jumping up and down excitedly. 

“Oh! Can we go get ice cream?” She asks. 

Steve looks from her and then up to Eddie, “Did Eddie say you should ask that too?” he teases. 

“Noooo!!!” she squeals as Steve launches forward to tickle her. 

Eddie shrugs as they both let out a soft chuckle, “Hey that’s all her idea.” 

Steve stands up wiping the grass from his jeans and looks back down to Holly, “Well I guess an ice cream cone wouldn’t be the end of the world.” 

She cheers victoriously and they make their way to Steve’s car. Holly runs ahead as Steve and Eddie finally get a moment to themselves, however brief it may be. They can’t help but smile as they watch her skip along ahead of them. Steve takes Eddie’s hand and interlocks their fingers together as they walk. They don’t have to say anything for each other to know what they’re thinking about. They’re happy and grateful that they have each other. 

They make their way to the diner, getting an ice cream cone for Holly and a milkshake to share between the two of them. Holly also convinces them to get a plate of fries. (She’s impossible to say no to is what they have discovered). They spend some time downtown letting her window shop as she looks at toys and dresses and eventually end up at the arcade. On their way back, they stop by family video to pick up a copy of a movie of Holly’s choosing, which of course she chooses Sleeping Beauty, and they head back to the trailer. 

Still full of energy, Holly suggests they make a blanket fort before watching the movie, and once again they indulge her. Once the fort is set up, they all crawl inside with a bowl of popcorn and start the movie. Steve and Eddie curl up to each other as Holly lays on her stomach, resting her head in her hands right next to Steve. She ends up falling asleep about halfway through and Steve catches Eddie’s attention to point it out. He smiles as he sees how calm she looks, and kisses Steve on the cheek before wrapping his arms around him to pull him in closer. Not long after they end up falling asleep in each other’s arms as the movie plays softly in the background. 

Later that night, Nancy and Robin stop by to take her home. 

Eddie jokes with Nancy, “You owe me one Wheeler.” 

“Oh come on she loves you guys anyway.” 

He rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face betrays him, “I hope you guys had a nice date.” 

The girls smile and after a few more minutes of conversation, they’re out the door with Holly in tow. Steve and Eddie go to clean up the rest of the fort, crashing on the couch afterwards. 

“Sorry our day turned out to be a babysitting gig.” Eddie tilts his head towards Steve. 

“Nah you know I love those kids. Plus, it’s fun when I get to do it with you.” He kisses Eddie on the cheek, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him closer. 

“They are all pretty great aren’t they?” 

“Plus, we have all night now.” Steve wiggles his brows suggestively, causing Eddie to burst out a laugh. 

He reaches up and brushes Steve’s hair back, leaning in for a proper kiss, “That we do Stevie, that we do.” 

[minhyeong]

NCT DREAM + SIMPLE DATES !

[ mark ] 

huddling together by the dinner table building a 10,000 piece mini lego set that he impulsively bought on his way back

you think his knitted brows will create permanent wrinkles after he maintained the same expression for hours so you smooth your thumb along his forehead

he’s muttering curses every time he places the wrong piece down and has to jam his fingernail into the small gap to separate them

cutely scrunches up his shoulders and gives you a bashful smile when you take the pieces from him and pry them apart

you literally have to drag him away from the table or he will stay up all night to complete it

[ renjun ] 

sitting cross-legged on the bed folding fresh laundry together while a true crime podcast is playing in the background

you’re tugging your favorite hoodie of his out from the pile of clothes and mindlessly looping your limbs into the sleeves

he’s grimacing when the gory details come out in the podcast and giving you the most suspicious look when he witnesses you giggling

his eyes narrow when he hypothetically asks whether you would commit a crime while wearing his clothes

the neatly folded pile is all ruined when you launch yourself at him just to squeeze him in your arms because everything he does is stupidly endearing

[ jeno ] 

learning how to crotchet together because you spontaneously wanted to make a scarf instead of purchasing one

it becomes a race to see who can master the very basics first, and he quickly gets ahead even though he spent forever stuck on making the slip knot at first

doesn’t even realize that his limbs are all tangled up in the ball of yarn until he can barely move his elbow

drops everything to give you a hand massage when you start to feel it cramping up from all the practice

he completes his scarf first and excitedly wraps it all around you until half of your face is covered, and you can’t wait to wear it out despite its small imperfections

[ haechan ]

pampering one another with face masks and 92 layers of skincare on a rare self-care night

he sighs contently when he lays his head on your lap and you delicately apply some eye masks for his dark circles

absolutely refuses to get up even after you’re done and pretends that he’s asleep with loud, dramatic snoring (the “just five more minutes” repeats for an hour)

makes you run your hand through his hair while he’s at it

you flick him in the forehead when he gets playful and starts to tickle you in the waist

[ jaemin ]

packing food to go feed ducks at the nearby lake before the cold season hits and everything freezes

he starts naming all of the ducks and claiming them as his children and asks if you two can adopt one and bring it home

you have to steal the empty basket from him before he tries to sneak something in there

other people walking by probably give you a look when they hear him make cooing noises at the ducks but you just pull him close with a proud smile

you leave the lake with a video of a flock of birds chasing after him and he’s flailing around as he runs away

[ chenle ]

pushing aside all the furniture in the living room to do couples yoga together just because he saw videos on youtube and confidently thinks he could do all of the complicated poses

you hesitantly suggest to start off with something simple but he’s already eager to try the double plank pose and even jokes that you can be on the bottom

purposely shakes and drops his arms while he’s supporting you just to scare you but always catches you at the last second

uses this opportunity to annoyingly wiggle his hips in your face 

just ends up leaning on you when he finally gets tired and rubs his sweaty cheeks all over your shoulder

[ jisung ]

crawling under the covers with your phone and facetiming at midnight when he’s miles away

learning all about his day and him animatedly talking about a snack he had two hours ago as if it’s the best thing he tasted his entire life and how he can’t wait to bring some back for you to try

he definitely drops the phone on his face more than once or twice 

you run out of storage on your phone because all you do is take a billion screenshots of him and you just can’t delete any of them

the way he blushes when he mumbles something about missing you after he thought you fell asleep (it’s absolutely a jump scare for him when you suddenly open your eyes)

[coldfanbou]

Manor: Incoming

I struggled mightily with this part; the next ones should come easier though.

Length 2.2K

Yuna x mreader

The following day at breakfast. You sit at the table with your parents and new guests. While they try to converse, you and Nayeon remain silent throughout the meal. The two of you weren't noticed, however. Much like years before, you both were ignored by your parents. Nayeon is the first to step away, quickly followed by you. "I guess you're right; things really don't change." 

"...yeah," Nayeon says dejectedly. "I tried telling you." 

"Look, I'm sorry for last night. It's- I've just had a lot going on recently. I haven't been myself." 

A smirk shows itself on Nayeon. "When are you ever yourself?" She says with a laugh. Nayeon smacks your shoulder, "It was wrong of me to assume things would be just how we left them. I put a lot of pressure on you."

"Oh, well, look at you taking part of the blame. Things have changed." You say in a bemused tone.

"Hey, I'm an adult now; I know when I'm wrong." She says, smacking your chest. 

"Yeah, I guess you are pretty old now." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you start backing away, ready to run. 

"You did not just call me old," Nayeon says, storming towards you. As you start to run, Nayeon begins to chase you. "Don't you run away from me!"  You both laugh as you run through the halls avoiding the maids as they go about their business. 

As you pass Taeyeon, you hear her yell, "No running in the halls!" You turn the corner and hide in the laundry room.  The chase ends when you choose to hide in the pile of clothes. Made up of the maids’ uniforms, you make a small hole to peer out of. Nayeon enters the room and stops seeing that there is only one way for you to go. 

A breathless call is made, "Come out, come out wherever you are." Nayeon opens the closets on the far walls, but nothing. She looks around for places where you could hide and circles the series of washing machines. Deciding to stay still, you watch as Nayeon eventually reaches the entrance again. "I know you're in here." Nayeon's gaze eventually turns to the pile of clothes you're lying in. As she slowly approaches, you prepare to launch as many clothes as you physically can at her. Step by step, she approaches hesitantly. Once you deem her close enough, you throw the maid uniforms at her and scurry away. "YA!" Nayeon screams; she tries to toss the uniforms off quickly and chases after you again. As you turn the corner again, you're forced to stop as you collide with Umji suddenly. Your arms wrap around her, and you turn, trying to take most of the damage. Hearing the crash, Nayeon turns to see Umji lying on your chest. 

"Ow, are you alright?"

"Yes, mas-young master." Umji says, "are you alright?"

"I'd appreciate it if you could get off me."

"I'm so sorry," Umji says, getting up quickly. "I-um, I'm sorry." She repeats, bowing.

"It’s fine." Umji's face turns red, and she quickly hurries off, passing by Nayeon. 

Nayeon reaches her hand out. "Get up, idiot," she says with a smile. You can tell she's trying to contain a laugh. You take her hand and get back up to your feet. "Game over, I win. As always."

"You do not; I'd still be running away if I hadn't bumped into her." 

"Tell yourself whatever you need to," Nayeon responds, completely unbothered. At that moment, Taeyeon and Yuna are coming down the corridor.

"Young master! I heard a crash. Are you alright?" She says. As soon as she reaches you, Taeyeon checks you for cuts and bruises.

"I'm fine, Taeyeon; I just bumped into Umji."

"That won't do; I'll have to discipline her." 

"No, no, Taeyeon. I ran into her; it's not Umji's fault." You respond. Taeyeon's disciplining has always been a little strong, enough to where many maids first time leads them to quit.

Taeyeon huffs as she continues to check you. "How many times do I have to tell you not to run in the halls?" As she finishes, Taeyeon looks over at Nayeon. "You too, no running allowed. Let me check you now." 

"But I didn't-" 

"Hush, now," Taeyeon says, cutting off Nayeon and beginning her inspection. "You sure have grown into a wonderful young lady, Miss Nayeon but don't think I won't punish you like old times." 

"He started it!" Nayeon shouts, pointing to you.

"Still acting like children, both of you. When will you grow up?" Yuna laughs at Taeyeon's comment. "Yuna, take these too as an example of what not to do." 

"I don't know, Miss Taeyeon; I think they're fun." Taeyeon just shakes her head without looking at Yuna. "Besides, I know you've had to get in trouble at least once before, right?"

"I…I don't know what you're talking about. I've been prim and proper since before I could remember." 

"Ooh, that means you've done some naughty things before, Taeyeon," you chime in.

"I-I have not!" Taeyeon turns to you and pulls on your ear harshly. Whispering to you, "I'll make sure to punish you later." It sends shivers down your spine. Afterward, she lets go of you, "Come along, Yuna; we have to get back to work." 

"Right, Miss Taeyeon. Bye, Miss Nayeon, Young Master." You catch Yuna winking at you, as does Nayeon. 

As soon as they're out of sight, Nayeon says, "What was that about? That wink from her?"

"I don't know. I haven't spoken to her before." 

"Then why did she wink at you?" Nayeon says, stepping up to you and poking your chest. "You've done something with her before."

"Nayeon, I haven't; she just started yesterday." 

"Yeah, sure." Nayeon starts to walk away from you. 

"Nayeon, come on."

"I need to cool off." She says as she continues to walk away. You watch as Nayeon goes the same way Taeyeon went. You take a deep breath to try and collect yourself, simultaneously wondering why Yuna would wink at you. Of course, she was suggestive during her introduction, but this was different. 

"Um, young master?" Your train of thought breaks apart at the tiny voice coming behind you. Turning around, you spot Umji standing there nervously. "Are you alright? I overheard you and Miss Nayeon arguing."

"I'll be alright, Umji. It's just a little trouble going on." 

"Are you sure? I'm here if you want to talk about it." 

"I'll be fine, Umji, but thanks." You start walking and hear Umji's footsteps following close behind as she goes to her next task. 

The next few days are spent trying to figure things out and watching the maids. Yuna has quickly made herself one of the most liked and tried multiple times to get closer to you. Tzuyu, Umji, Wonyoung, and Chuu, in comparison, are well-liked but have focused more on their jobs and have only interacted with you when absolutely necessary. Hwasa would occasionally ask when the two of you would have some alone time again, only to be told later. Your relationship with Nayeon was hot and cold; sometimes, things were fine, and then something would throw a spanner in the works. 

You were sitting in the back garden maze right now, just trying to relax. The garden had a few areas to it. The patio was connected to the house, and further in the garden stood a maze; the hedges were tall enough to make it nearly impossible to see what happened inside. The sound of footsteps got louder until you saw who was coming. It was Yuna. Yuna took a seat next to you. "How are you doing, young master?" She asks. She's turned her body halfway to face you.

"I was doing well. What do you want, Yuna?" 

"Well, I completed all my tasks for the day and thought I should get to know you better." She smiles at you as her hand inches closer to you.

"Why?" You ask, suspicious of her intentions.

"Isn't it good for a maid to know her master? I want to know what you like; I'm your maid, after all." 

"...right. Why don't you learn more about my mother or father then."

"Come on, Master." Yuna puffs her cheeks as she closes in on you. "I can do anything you'd like. Anything." 

"Yuna, what are you getting at?"

"I'm just saying that I see you're struggling with Miss Nayeon, and being a young man, you should be able to release your stress," Yuna says as her hand crawls onto your thigh. As Yuna leans over, you catch a glimpse of her modest cleavage. "I can help you release all that tension, master. Why don't I show you what I can do?" Before you can say anything, Yuna presses her lips against yours. The soft and warm flesh distracts you as Yuna's hand frees your cock. You both break the kiss, panting as you run out of breath. Yuna's small hand slowly strokes your shaft. You groan from the pleasure, and Yuna smiles upon hearing it.

"See, master? This is just the start too." Yuna begins to move faster while kissing you. As precum coats, your cock Yuna picks up her pace further. "I can't let this go to waste, Master." Yuna bends down and swallows your cock. Her tongue swirls around the tip as she strokes the base of your shaft. Her warm mouth brings you another level of pleasure. You tilt your head back as you relish the pleasure from Yuna's mouth. You pull back her hair to make it easier for her. As Yuna begins to bob her head quickly, you moan her name.

"Fuck, Yuna, that feels so good. I'm gonna cum."

"Let me have a taste, master." Yuna mumbles. Her tongue laps at the tip of your cock, trying to push you over the edge. You push Yuna's head down as you cum. She struggles to take a breath as you fill her with your cum. She's slapping your thigh, telling you to let her go. You do so with the final spurt splashing onto her face. Yuna coughs and tries to catch her breath. "You…should… have warned me, master." After she's caught her breath, Yuna puts on her best smile. "If you had told me that's what you wanted, I would've been able to with no problem." 

"Sorry, it just felt really good."

"Well, I can forgive you, Master; after all, your cum is delicious," Yuna uses her finger to swipe the cum on her face and licks it clean. "I still have some energy, Master," She stands up and lifts the front of her maid uniform to reveal her soaked panties. "I helped you. Could you help your little maid, Master?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can." Yuna doesn't bother removing her uniform; she straddles you and, moving her panties to the side, gets ready for you. The head of your cock rubs against her folds before pressing against her entrance.

You look into Yuna's eyes, "Are you ready?" 

"Yes, Master." Yuna's teasing voice turns into a moan as you push her waist down, and your cock pushes inside. "Oh my god, you feel so big." You lift and drop Yuna on your cock; her breasts bounce slightly as she crashes onto your body. You lean forward and nip at her neck; she struggles to contain her moans, biting her bottom lip. You squeeze Yuna's ass through her uniform. "Master, I could always visit you in your room if you want to see more of me." She moans. As you thrust faster, you feel her walls clench around you, "Oh, you like that idea? I can feel your cock throbbing inside me." You admit to yourself that seeing more of Yuna's body excites you. You imagine her wearing matching lacy underwear and giving you a strip dance. 

"I really like that idea, Yuna." You unbutton the top of Yuna's uniform and free her breasts. Quickly you attach your mouth to it, suckling in it and drawing moans from the young woman.

"Oh, wait… I'm going to cum if you keep doing that." Yuna grimaces as she feels your tongue flicking her nipple. 

"That’s fine, Yuna, cum with me. That's an order." 

"Yes, Master. Fuck…" Yuna's moans grow louder as she bounces on your cock. Her walls clamp down on you as she cums; you feel her milking your cock as you fill Yuna with cum. You paint her walls white as Yuna bites your shoulder to avoid attracting more attention. When your orgasms end, Yuna gets off you and sits next to you. Breathing heavily, you both try to relax. "Let me clean you up, Master." Yuna leans over you and promptly takes your cock in; she takes the entire thing in. Her tongue playfully licks your balls before slowly moving back to the tip. She gets everything and leaves it clean before wiping her mouth. "Thank you for my meal, Master. I should go before the others start to suspect something." Yuna stands and begins her walk out of the maze. You sit there a little while longer after putting away your dick. 

"Yuna must be the one my parents planted." You think to yourself. It made sense to you, considering the others focused on their work while Yuna has tried constantly to get to you. You wouldn't let the sex you had change anything, instead planning on bringing in some in the form of a trusted maid.

[aperrywilliams]

Not My Second Best (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: After a case in Los Angeles, you see your boyfriend Spencer is acting weird. You don’t know why, but when you find out, you don’t know what to do, and you are sure that it would put a stone over your relationship.

Word Count: 8,4k (I couldn’t help it)

Warnings: MINOR DNI (18+). Strong language; mention of sex; alcohol consumption (reader’s drunk); reader confronting JJ (woohoo!!!); insecurities and self-deprecation thoughts (reader); nudity; fingering and oral (reader receiving), penetrative sex; unprotected sex; creampie. Angst with a happy ending.

A/N: It took me a while to end this one, job has been hectic lately, so sorry! For this fic, I combined this and this request. Thanks for reading, and keep sending me requests!

Do you want to be added to the taglist? Go HERE

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Work had been lazy in the past weeks, so you spent time with the team playing poker in the conference room.

It was the last game, and JJ and Spencer were the only ones playing. Gambling all the candies they both had, JJ took the win. You all laughed at Spencer’s confused face because he had thought he would win.

But the giggles stopped when Emily announced that you had a case.

This time you were flying to Los Angeles. The unsub collides his victims’ vehicles with his own, gets out of the car to go to the driver’s window, and shoots the victim to death.

After discussing theories in the jet, Emily instructed you on what you all should do after touching down. Agreeing with that, you returned to your seats for the rest of the flight. You sat next to your boyfriend, Spencer. JJ and Tara were in front of you.

“And how’s the new apartment?” Tara asked you. A smile formed on Spencer’s lips, looking at you and deciding who would reply to Tara’s question.

“It’s great! A lot bigger than mine was. We have a guest room and an office we can use too,” you explained excitedly, grabbing Spencer’s hand and interlocking your fingers with his.

This was a new step for you both.

You had been in a relationship for almost two years now with the resident genius. Although you started working in the BAU ten years ago, you never dared to go beyond a friendship with Spencer even when it was evident that there was more than that between you both. Pining for each other for a long time, finally, Spencer got the confidence to confess his love for you. You launched into his arms, admitting you felt the same. That’s how your relationship as a couple started.

Now you lived together, and things have been pretty good, like a honeymoon, you would have said.

-

Arriving in Los Angeles, everyone got into the business. Tracking the unsub became more complicated than you thought, and you started to feel the pressure. Rossi would get married in two days, so you needed to catch this guy soon.

After a deep digging, you got a name.

The bad news was that the unsub kidnapped two people and was on the run.

You were assigned to patrolling the streets with Luke when the police radio announced they had the unsub’s car in sight.

JJ and Spencer were nearest him, so they went into the chase.

But none of you expected the unsub would take them as hostages in a locked store.

For several minutes you didn’t have eyes or ears for what was happening. Garcia only could make one camera work.

The situation was tense, and you feared the worst.

Then shots were heard, and you and the team stomped into the store.

Relief washed over you when you saw JJ and Spencer alive and well. The unsub was dead.

You couldn’t help but hug your boyfriend. Spencer hugged you back tightly before a paramedic approached to check his injuries: a cut on his right hand.

You then went to check on JJ, who seemed still in shock. She barely said a word to you, but you understood. Spencer looked equally shocked, if you were honest.

None of you knew what really happened inside. None of you could hear what they said, and not Spencer nor JJ detailed much of that. But it would be time for that later. Now you needed to pack and run to the jet to return home.

The flight was very silent. You saw Spencer looking through the window and inadvertently rubbing his bandaged hand from time to time.

“Hey, are you okay? It hurts?” You asked, concerned. He turned to see you.

“Uh? A little. But it’s nothing. I’m okay,” he smiled, grasping your hand with his not-bandaged one. You smiled back, leaning your head on Spencer’s shoulder.

-

Spencer could be a very particular man. He is usually very talkative regarding things that produce enthusiasm in him. His tendency to ramble is one of his characteristic treats, and you love it.

On the other hand, when something stressful happens to him, Spencer doesn’t speak much and has a hard time expressing his feelings.

But after years of knowing each other, he is more open to you. Your strategy has been to give him time to process first. Spencer knows he can talk to you when he’s ready to. That’s why you didn’t push it when he kept quiet after the jet touched down in Virginia that morning.

In the apartment, he stayed contemplative and barely said a word. Surely he needed time to process the last case.

At Rossi’s wedding the next day, he looked more present, and you could tell he enjoyed the party.

But his pensive look returned after he went for a glass of water at the bar. You saw him talking to JJ for a while. You didn’t say anything at the time, but you made a mental note to ask later.

That night you wanted to spice things. Seeing him in a tuxedo did nothing for you but want him. To you, he is the sexiest man walking the earth, and you needed to have him. Besides, you thought a bit of intimacy could help Spencer unwind from whatever was bothering him.

The making-out session was heating the mood, but when you straddled him and started playing with his shirt buttons, he suddenly stopped you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, concerned.

“Uh - I’m sorry. It’s late already, and we need to sleep,” Spencer said, averting his gaze from you.

“Oh, okay. But we could sleep better after a bit of loving, you know?” you suggested seductively, kissing his jaw. But Spencer didn’t budge, and you wouldn’t force him either. He apologizes again, and you only told him it was okay, that you weren’t mad or anything.

And it was true that you weren’t mad, although you were confused and a bit worried.

In the following weeks, Spencer seemed more like himself, though. So you thought he had already moved on from Los Angeles’s case.

But you noticed that something between Spencer and JJ was off. They barely talked. You didn’t know why. It‘s like they felt awkward in the presence of each other. Spencer never mentioned to you that they fought or anything. You felt bad because whatever it was, it seemed that they were hurt by it.

You tried to talk to Spencer about what was happening between them, but he avoided the topic every time you brought it.

One day even you dared to ask JJ what was going on, and she looked at you in horror.

“What do you mean what’s going on between Spencer and me?” She asked defensively.

“Precisely that. You barely talk to each other. I’m worried because you are best friends; lately, it looks like anything but that. Can I help?”

JJ‘s look was a mix of empathy and... guilt? You didn’t know why, though. Grabbing your hand, she told you everything was just fine.

You assumed they talked at some point because you saw them interact a bit more some weeks after you spoke to JJ.

Deciding that it wasn’t your problem to solve, you focused on the cases that kept coming to the BAU.

-

A couple of months later, Everett Linch’s daughter’s escape from prison ended with JJ suffering a GSW. You and Spencer found her bleeding in a parking garage. It was shocking to see, and you could tell that Spencer almost freaked out. So you kept calm and helped JJ stay awake until the ambulance arrived.

As the ER staff took care of JJ, you called the team and William. You both sat in the waiting room. Spencer’s look was blank.

“She’s gonna be okay,” you soothed him. Spencer looked at you, and you didn’t know why he seemed guilty if none of that was his fault.

The poor William couldn’t understand what happened, so you tried to recount the facts and keep his spirit high.

The minutes turned into hours. At some point, Will needed to pick up the boys, but he didn’t want to tell them what happened until JJ could be out of danger. So you volunteered to help him and keep the kids occupied for a while.

“Hey, I’m going with Will to pick up the boys. It’s that okay?” You asked Spencer, who only nodded.

Exhaustion and nervousness were written all over his face.

“I love you,” you mumbled, kissing his forehead. And he only returned a weary smile.

You knew Spencer was having a hard time, but something in your chest ached when he didn’t say it back. You brushed off the feeling and focused on helping Will.

Henry and Michael were the cutest boys in the world. You tried to keep them entertained so they couldn’t notice their dad’s worry and their mom’s absence.

Spencer didn’t text or call you. Will did it some hours after, saying JJ was out of danger and that he would take the boys to see her later.

Relief came to you. JJ would be okay.

William wanted to prepare Henry and Michael first, so he told you if you wanted to return to the hospital, it was okay. You agreed to that because you were worried about Spencer.

As you reached the hospital room, you listened to Spencer and JJ’s voices. You smiled because she was awake. It was a sign that the worst was over. But you stopped in your tracks when you heard JJ crying. Confused, you didn’t know if it was a good idea to come in. Were they arguing? Maybe you shouldn’t be there eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t to do with you. But you were curious.

“I’m so sorry, Spence. Since what happened in Los Angeles, we have been distant, and it’s my fault,” JJ sniffled.

Your eyes widened when she mentioned Los Angeles. Was she referring to the case you had months ago?

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay,” Spencer soothed her. His voice was trembling, though. You could tell he wanted to cry.

“It’s not. You know it,” JJ insisted.

What was not okay? What happened that night when they were both hostages? You racked your brain, thinking about what this was all about.

“But it’s not your fault. I would never think it is,” Spencer declared.

“I thought that I would take this secret to the grave. And then the unsub was pushing me, and I said it. And then, at Rossi’s wedding, when you asked me if I meant it, I didn’t want to admit that I meant it. That I do love you,” she blurted out.

Suddenly your stomach twisted, your throat went dry, and you even found breathing difficult. Did you hear correctly?

It was hard to process those words, but in a matter of seconds, your mind wandered to each moment in the past months. Then everything made sense. You remembered pretty well how shocked Spencer seemed after the hostage situation, how JJ avoided looking at you. Then the silent flight. You remembered how Spencer’s mood changed after talking to JJ at Rossi’s wedding. How reluctant he was to touch you for weeks. The following cases in which he barely spoke to her, and the awkward looks between them. How bad he looked the past hours, maybe thinking he wouldn’t see her again.

Every piece fits perfectly.

“But, you do?” Spencer’s voice cracked.

“Yes. God. I’m so sorry, Spence. Sometimes I think about what would have happened if things were different.”

‘If things were different.’ You felt so stupid.

How couldn’t you see it before?

Quickly you made your way out of the hospital, getting up to your car and driving. Where? You weren’t quite sure. Anywhere but there.

As you drove through the streets of DC, your head echoed the words you had just heard repeatedly. And now what? You asked yourself. You shouldn’t know about this in theory, but was it possible to ignore it? No. Maybe you would if it was anyone else, but not when it comes to JJ.

You know there was history between them. You knew Spencer was in love with JJ years ago. But they ended up best friends afterward. You were very aware of how important JJ is to Spencer and vice-versa. But was she important enough to jeopardize your relationship with him? Would it ignite the spark between them now that Spencer knows her feelings?

The tears made driving difficult, so you pulled into a store’s parking lot.

You stayed there for an undetermined time. It must have been quite a while because your cell phone went off with Spencer’s name displayed on the screen.

You would have liked to continue in ignorance, so you would not have to pretend everything was fine. You couldn’t, so you texted Spencer that you returned to the BAU to help the team and not the hospital, as you said to Will earlier.

At the BAU, after discovering what Linch did to her daughter, there wasn’t much more to do, so Emily sent everyone home. Spencer arrived just before you could leave the building. He rushed by your side, showing a worried look.

“Hey, I heard what happened,” Spencer said, trying to reach your hand with his. But you did as if you didn’t notice, switching your bag in your hands to avoid his touch.

“Yeah. We lost him,” you confirmed. “Now Emily sent us home. Rossi is the one talking to Roberta.”

“Okay, let’s go then,” he tried to grab your bag this time, but you didn’t let him.

“Maybe you should talk to Emily first. You know, filling her about the past hours.”

You wanted to go home, avoiding talking to him. Spencer frowned; he noticed something was off with you.

“I’m sure she will go to the hospital right now; I don’t think...”

“You need to, Spencer. It’s protocol,” you cut him off. Spencer was taken aback by your reaction, but he blamed the stress.

“Okay. Okay, you are right. Would you wait for me for a couple of minutes?”

“I better go home now. I’m exhausted. See you later.”

Without a goodbye kiss or any affection demonstration, you left the bullpen.

Spencer now was confused.

Did he do something? Why were you upset?

That question hovered in Spencer’s mind on his way home. It didn’t help that the apartment was strangely quiet. You weren’t in the living room or the kitchen. He assumed you were taking a bath, but to his surprise, you were in bed, covered to your nose with the comforter.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer asked you in a soft voice. He knew you weren’t sleeping.

“Just tired,” you mumbled.

“Do you need anything? Can I get you a cup of tea or...?”

“I just need to sleep, Spencer. That’s all.” You cut him off. You didn’t want to sleep, but you couldn’t face him without replaying the words you heard in the hospital.

Spencer didn’t push. He got ready for bed in silence and joined you a bit later.

He contemplated you for a while, and although he couldn’t see your face, Spencer knew you were lying.

He would ask you what happened in the morning.

When Spencer awoke the next day, your spot in bed was empty and cold. You weren’t in the apartment either. He called you, but you didn’t answer. Just before he started to freak out, you texted him not to worry that you were helping your sister in a little ‘family emergency.’ That was another lie. You just wanted to avoid talking to him. What could you possibly say? If he didn’t tell you what happened before, it was evident that he didn’t want you to know.

-

You kept the secret for yourself and tried to go on with life. But it didn’t feel okay.

Your insecurities made their appearance and haunted your mind.

Maybe Spencer didn’t love you. Perhaps you were just his second-best after JJ.

You knew things were complicated: JJ was married and had kids. But love doesn’t care about social roles.

What if the love they shared was greater than everything else?

You were only a hindrance now, even if Spencer didn’t say it.

He knew something was off with you. He tried to make you talk but with no avail. Things between you both turned cold and distant. And that only increased your feeling of being a nuisance for him. You averted his touch, too; you didn’t want to have sex, thinking he wanted to do it only for pity or stress relief.

Two weeks passed, and the cases on the BAU kept coming. You were somewhat grateful for that because that gave you an excuse not to be alone with Spencer all day.

Even if you shared a bed, you weren’t affectionate with each other at night. There was always an excuse for you, and you supposed Spencer believed you. But he didn’t. Spencer started to think you were looking for a reason to break up with him, and he didn’t know why. He was afraid of even bringing up the topic. So neither of you dared to talk about the elephant in the room.

-

After JJ returned to work, Rossi invited the team to dinner at his house. You weren’t too enthusiastic about it, but it would be odd if Spencer shows up and you don’t.

So there you were, holding your sixth glass of wine. Maybe drinking too much wasn’t the smart choice, but you didn’t feel like being sober.

For days you were trying to build up the courage to talk to Spencer. But that would mean you needed to tell him what you knew. And after weeks, it felt wrong to bring it up. So you felt trapped.

But that night at Rossi’s, though? You were so fed up that you didn’t care a shit anything.

Maybe the universe was giving you a sign.

You especially thought about that when JJ stood from her chair with a glass of wine in hand.

“I want to make a toast for us. For our honest friendship. For being for each other and supporting us in the good and the bad times. For speaking from the truth and loving each other like the family we are,” she said, looking at everyone at the table. But you could swear that her gaze lingered over Spencer.

Maybe the alcohol in your system made you feel it worse, but those words were anything but accurate for you. Honest friendship? When you knew she was hiding one of her biggest secrets from all of you. What about Spencer? He was hiding this from you too. Was he still thinking about it? Did he consider it? Above all, he didn’t say anything. Whenever you asked him what was happening, he said it was nothing. And who else knew? Rossi? Maybe Emily? Yeah, perhaps you were being paranoid. But it felt so fake and condescending that you wanted to throw up.

The ‘past you’ would have kept her mouth shut. But you were done. It had been exhausting weeks since you discovered the truth. So, what the hell? Why not end this for once?

After everyone said “cheers” and sipped their beverage, you cleared your throat so the team could focus on you. Spencer looked at you, surprised; he knew you weren’t keen to do speeches. But lately, he felt like he didn’t know much about you.

“What a wonderful toast, JJ! It’s amazing to see you talking like that. And it’s amazing how wrong you are!” You laughed before sipping your wine. The team’s faces changed from amused to confused. Spencer turned to you, but you ignored him. JJ frowned, and a nervous smile spotted on her lips.

“What do you mean? It was just...” she started to explain, but you cut her off.

“A toast! I know! But I’m sorry, I’m done with your bullshit, you know? Oh! So sorry. Did I say it aloud?” you mocked, shooking your head.

It was nice to feel that adrenaline in your body—the adrenaline of finally saying what was in your mind, even if it was politically incorrect.

“(Y/N), I think you shouldn’t keep drinking,” Spencer intervened, trying to grab your glass of wine. You moved your hand to avoid that.

“No, no, no. You don’t have the right to tell me what I should or should not do. None of you! Especially when you are hiding something from me!” You raised your voice, pointing your finger to JJ. She looked at Spencer, who was confused but, for the most part, worried. He never saw you like this. Yes, you have been tipsy before, but you usually are what they call a ‘pacific drunk.’ What changed now?

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” JJ said, visibly uncomfortable.

“You don’t? Well, I guess you need a fresh reminder. Why you don’t tell us what really happened in that store in Los Angeles some months ago, uh?”

Spencer and JJ’s faces were pure panic now.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s celebrating time; why do you slow down a bit?” Rossi suggested.

“I’m sorry, Dave, but I will not. Not until you both tell the truth,” you said, pointing to Spencer and JJ. “I don’t think it would be hard; we are like a family, right?” You told them sardonically.

“(Y/N) stop,” Spencer interjected, but you wouldn’t listen to him. You wanted her to say it, admit it.

“Tell them! Don’t let them find out as I did!” You demanded.

JJ’s eyes swelled with tears.

“Don’t do this. (Y/N), please,” she begged.

“(Y/N), we can talk about this later,” Spencer tried to persuade you.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Now you want to talk about that? That’s a change!”

Emily sensing what would happen next, made a sign to the rest of the team to leave and enter the house. Everyone quickly moved inside, leaving you there with Spencer and JJ.

“Where are you all going? You are going to miss the fun here!” You called, but no one dared to respond.

Annoyed, you drank the remained wine in your glass. JJ was doing everything in her power not to cry, and Spencer shifted in his weight, uncomfortable.

“Well. The audience left. I’m waiting,” you insisted.

“How did you find out?” Spencer asked.

“Are you truly asking me that? Fuck you, Spencer. I’m a damn profiler. And on top of that, your fucking girlfriend. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“It’s not what you think...” JJ tried to explain, but you cut her off.

“And what I’m thinking? That you love him? Is it not like that?”

“We are just friends,” JJ pointed. You huffed a laugh.

“I didn’t say you weren’t. But you confessed to being in love with him. And did you occur that it would not be consequences? How naive, JJ. I thought you were clever enough,” you chastised her.

“I - I should have...” JJ trailed off, trying to clarify.

“(Y/N), this doesn’t have to do with us,” Spencer said as his hand reached for yours with no success.

“I’m very aware. Because I know it has to do with you and her!” You yelled to Spencer, who now understood the past weeks between you both. He felt like a complete idiot.

“No! I would never interfere in your relationship,” JJ cried.

“Yeah. I heard when you said you wanted to take the secret to the grave. But you didn’t, and now you have this man debating about what to do. And don’t tell me you didn’t think about it, Spencer,” you said, now shifting your gaze to him.

“No! Of course not! I’m with you, for God’s sake!” Spencer chimed.

“Wrong answer, genius. You are with me, but you can be with her. I’m sure Will can be nice enough to make room for the three of you in his house. You can raise the kids together. Like a happy modern family!”

“Now you are talking nonsenses,” Spencer scoffed.

“Don’t you dare to talk about my husband and kids in that way, (Y/N)” JJ warned you; she was no longer crying.

“Oh! The mamma bear is here! Don’t fool me with that. You told Spencer that you might have a chance if things were different. So why not? Let’s make it different!”

“Why are you doing this? I love you (Y/N),” Spencer tried to reason with you.

“Are you sure about that? Then why do I feel like your second best, uh?” You asked, feeling the ache in your chest. Saying it aloud hurt you more than you thought it would.

“That’s not true!”

“C’mon, Spencer; you have been in love with her since day one. When I joined the team was public knowledge you were pinning for JJ. But yeah, she had Will’s baby, then married him. Things got messy, but I’m sure your feelings are still there.”

“She is my best friend!” Spencer yelled.

“And the love of your life. Don’t let someone like me interfere with your happiness,” you sneered. God, you needed another drink.

“Are you really thinking my feelings for you are nothing?”

You thought about that for a second. Yeah, maybe Spencer has feelings for you. But you were almost sure that love wasn’t one of them.

“(Y/N), Spencer loves you!” JJ tried to convince you, but you looked at her with skepticism.

“Why should I believe what you say, uh?”

“Because it’s true! That’s why I didn’t say anything. This - this mess is in my head, non in Spencer’s. And it’s my problem, not him or yours,” she explained, sniffling again.

“So it’s true,” you pointed.

“You really want me to say it?” JJ asked, hurt written on her face.

“Are you brave enough?” You challenged her.

JJ kept silent for a moment, but she bit the bullet anyway.

“Yes! I love Spencer, okay? That’s what you wanted to hear? Uh? Do you want to hear that I’m in love with him and that I’ll always love him? What else? Do you want me to say that I wish he weren’t in a relationship with you so I could have his full attention on me?” JJ spat. The nerves and stress made her lose composure.

“Jennifer, stop!” Spencer cut her off harshly.

“No! Let her talk!” You insisted.

“No. It’s enough. You are drunk (Y/N). And this is not the place either. I’m sorry if I pushed you to this, but you must stop,” Spencer begged.

You sighed dramatically. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but you reached your limit.

“Fine. I already said what I had to say anyway. Keep enjoying the night,” you told them, walking to the house. Passing by JJ’s side, you stopped for a second. “You can keep him. You always had him.”

The hot air in the living room contrasted with the chill outside, and you felt dizzy. You didn’t even notice Spencer behind you as you didn’t notice the rest of the team looking at you.

“Let’s go home,” Spencer told you softly, settling a hand on your arm.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Don’t touch me!” You cried out, yanking your arm from him.

“(Y/N), please...” Spencer argued.

“I think it’s better if she comes with me,” Tara interrupted, looking at Spencer to agree that it was the best for now.

“My sweet Tara is saving my ass again,” you giggled. Your inebriated state was taking a toll on you. You only wanted to run away from there. Tara helped you put your coat on and led you to her car.

You didn’t remember much after that. Your brain shut down until the next morning when the sunlight and the worst headache in the world woke you up. Your head was throbbing, and you felt your mouth dry.

With difficulty, you got up from bed and padded to the kitchen, where Tara was eating breakfast.

“Good morning. Coffee?” She offered, standing from her seat to grab a mug for you.

“Please. Thank you,” you replied, sitting on the barstool in front of Tara.

She handed you the mug and sat again to finish her breakfast. Tara didn’t want to bother you, so she kept respectfully silent.

Sipping your coffee, flashbacks from the previous night came to your mind. You couldn’t help but wince at the memory.

“What did I do, Tara?” Your question was primarily rhetorical, but you wanted to know how far the team knew.

“I can partially answer that. Considering that we were inside the house when you, Reid, and JJ were yelling outside,” she told you, sipping her remaining coffee.

“Did you hear what I said there?”

“Not quite. Emily didn’t let us. But it wasn’t difficult to guess,” Tara shrugged.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath.

“Privacy would have been better to discuss something like that, but I guess you had your reasons,” she reassured you.

“Yeah, I have. But now I’m the hysterical girlfriend,” you winced.

“I don’t think you are. We are profilers (Y/N). We noticed it too,” Tara reassured you.

“You knew it?”

“No. Reid and JJ didn’t tell anyone. And they should have their reasons too. I’m not exempting them from liability. I’m just saying it’s complicated.”

“I guess. But at some point, knowing it and not saying anything was too much for me,” you explained, trying to make sense of the last events.

“You don’t have to justify yourself (Y/N). It’s something you need to talk about with Reid. Speaking of, he called a few times this morning. He is worried,” she informed you.

“I don’t fucking care,” you mumbled, your anger boosting again.

“I need to disagree on that,” Tara pointed. You shook your head.

“It’s already done anyway. Spencer can be free now. Do with his life whatever he pleases.”

“Did you break up last night?”

“I guess so. I don’t remember much, but considering what happened, it would be enough to do so.”

As a cue, Your phone went off. It was Spencer. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“You would have to talk to him at some point,” she reminded you.

Tara was right. But not for now, so you declined the call.

You let out a deep sigh. Tara poured more coffee into your mug; you surely needed it.

“You can take a shower and stay all the time you need,” she offered.

“Thank you, Tara. Really. I appreciate what you did for me last night and now.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m glad to be helpful.”

You stayed at Tara’s for a few hours. You took a shower and had lunch. That way, your hangover subsided during the afternoon. You knew you had to come back to the apartment and talk to Spencer, but you needed to be prepared for whatever outcome.

Around six, you were opening the apartment door. Spencer was on the couch reading a book. Once he heard your key on the lock, his eyes focused on the entrance.

“Hey,” Spencer stood quickly from the couch when you entered.

“Hey,” you parroted, biting your lower lip.

“Uh - I tried to call you. How do you feel?” He asked cautiously.

“Not hangover, at least. Sleep, coffee, and shower helped.”

“Okay. Good.”

An awkward silence settled between you both. Neither you nor Spencer didn’t know how to address the topic. You knew you had to, but you were afraid of the consequences. You were sure your relationship with Spencer was over, and it would take him just a few minutes to admit he loved JJ.

It was for the best anyway; you didn’t think you could bear the thought of his longing for another woman.

“Just give me some says to pack my things, and I’ll leave, okay?” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose and trying to conceal the pain you felt.

Spencer looked at you in shock.

“What - what are you talking about? Leave? Why?”

“Please, Spencer. We know this could happen sooner or later. I don’t want to be a burden to you,” you mumbled.

“(Y/N), stop that!” He demanded, approaching and urging you to look at him. ”Just stop assuming things that are not true, okay?”

You looked at him in disbelief.

“They aren’t true? I don’t think...”

“Yeah, exactly! They aren’t!” He yelled to cut you off. You cringed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Just... Please, can you listen to me for a minute? Let me explain, okay?”

Bad idea or not, he didn’t have the chance to say anything before. You didn’t consider it necessary because things were crystal clear for you.

“You don’t have to tell me what I already know, Spencer.”

“Please?”

You let out a deep sigh. Spencer wouldn’t stop until you listened to him. You nodded, folding your arms over your chest. Spencer cleared his throat.

“I know I should have said something before. I did notice your discomfort in the past weeks, but it didn’t occur to me that you heard us talking in the hospital room.

I’m not going to lie (Y/N). When JJ said ‘that’ in Los Angeles, I froze; I never expected something remotely close to that. And it’s the truth. Maybe ten years ago, it would have been something to make things different in my life, but it isn’t now. Not after I met you, not after all we have been through.

If I looked lost and confused, it wasn’t because I had doubts about us or my feeling for you. It was because I worried that our friendship with JJ to change. JJ is my best friend. It’s been like that for years, and I wouldn’t like to change it.” Spencer explained, looking at you directly in the eyes.

“Even if she admitted her true feelings?”

You knew Spencer wouldn’t have done anything about his love for her because he didn’t think she felt the same. But now? That was your worst fear: the open door.

“Yes. Because what I feel for JJ it’s completely different from what I feel for you. I can’t love her the way I love you even if I tried.”

Spencer took a step closer to you, tentatively reaching out to rest his hand over your shoulder. You did let him do it. His touch was warm and welcoming, but you still couldn’t brush out the internal voice in your head telling you that Spencer was only pitying you.

“So why you didn’t tell me? What were you afraid of?” You asked, shifting in your spot, Spencer’s hand falling to his side.

“This exact scenario, I guess. I didn’t want to put a shadow of a doubt on you. But it happened nonetheless, and I was dumb thinking that if I didn’t say anything, things would be okay,” Spencer admitted.

“That’s what I can’t understand. I thought you trusted me, Spencer. I asked you about it so many times that I lost count. How do you expect me to believe you? You hid it from me!”

A new wave of rage ran through your veins, remembering the nights you fell asleep silently crying, looking at Spencer sleeping peacefully as your brain was telling you he didn’t love you anymore.

“I know. I know, and I’m so sorry. It was stupid. I messed it up. I didn’t want you to hold a grudge against JJ, so I kept it to myself. It was a mistake,” he apologized.

“And she talking about friendship and honesty last night? So out of place.” You scoffed. Spencer down cast his gaze.

“Not very fortunate. I know.”

“JJ honestly thought that wouldn’t have any consequences?” You mused. You were angry at her because of all this mess, but primarily because she chose that from all the things she could have said.

“I don’t think she thought about that when it happened. It was a moment with a lot of pressure, so I guess she didn’t think of that,” Spencer hypothesized.

A silence settled between the two of you. Spencer was trying to figure out what you were thinking. You were internally fighting to decide if you wanted to believe him or not. After a moment, you spoke again.

“You regret it?”

Spencer frowned.

“Regret what?”

“Not making a move on her years ago?”

Spencer shook his head, narrowing his eyes.

“No. Why should I?”

“Because you two would have ended together. It’s not difficult to picture you both as a couple. JJ is pretty, intelligent, caring, strong, and badass. I get it; it’s not hard to fall in love with her,” you shrugged.

“Don’t say that as if you weren’t all those things and even more!” Spencer protested.

“Well, I’m not, Spencer! At least not like her,” you yelled, tears pricking your eyes.

���Hey! Look at me!” Spencer tilted your chin so you could look at him.

“You don’t need to be like her because you’re amazing! And I love you just the way you are. (Y/N), you are the one for me. You are not my second best. You are my only best. There is no person more perfect to me than you. Why is it so difficult to believe?”

You let out a raging sob.

“I don’t know! Jeez, Spencer. Sometimes it’s difficult to believe I’m enough for you when you can be with anyone else.”

“Well, you should start to believe it (Y/N). And I’m sorry if I have failed to prove it. What can I say or do to show you how I see you?”

Spencer asked, grabbing your hand in his and stroking your left cheek with his free one. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes.

“(Y/N)... you are the most exceptional human being I had the luck to know and love.”

You opened your eyes and saw him with his gaze on you. His hazel eyes were staring at you intensely as if they could look at your soul.

“Crossing paths with you was the best thing that ever happened to me. Do you know what Morgan said to me on your first day at the BAU, seeing that I couldn’t stop looking at you? ‘Oh, pretty boy, you’re so whipped,’ and he was right,” he chuckled, using his other hand to stroke your right cheek.

“You enchanted me the moment I saw you, and it was so hard trying to get you out of my mind. I knew I had no chance with you. How could I? It was impossible that a person so beautiful, brilliant, vibrant, and brave could love someone as damaged as me. And you proved me wrong. You gave me your heart; I swear it’s my most beloved possession. I’m sorry if I haven’t taken care of it properly. I’m sorry if I hurt you and made you doubt my love for you.”

You had to admit Spencer has a thing with words. They touched your heart. Nonetheless, you inspected his eyes to see any sign of deception, and you found none.

“I love you, Spencer,” you mumbled. Spencer smiled, drying your tears with his thumbs.

“And I love you. So so much. I’m sorry for making you doubt that way. I promise you that my feelings didn’t change in the slightest after Los Angeles. And they will never change (Y/N). Never,” Spencer assured you, now grasping your hands and kissing your knuckles.

“Now I feel bad for the hard time I gave you last night,” you apologized, feeling embarrassed for how you acted in Rossi’s. Spencer shook his head.

“None of that. You don’t have to apologize. It’s my fault for not noticing something was wrong. You didn’t know, and you were afraid. I get it.”

You let out a deep breath. You were no longer crying, and your chest felt lighter. Looking at Spencer, you got lost in his eyes. In your mind, just one thing: kiss him. It seemed Spencer could hear your thoughts because slowly, he leaned. At mid-way, your lips met. A sweet kiss full of love. You tilted your head and put your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. You missed your boyfriend. You missed the tenderness between the two of you. Spencer’s hands found your waist and pulled you tightly against his body. He missed you too, and he needed to show you he wasn’t going anywhere.

When you parted for air, Spencer pecked your nose and your forehead.

“I love you. Please, don’t think otherwise,” Spencer whispered. You hummed in agreement and pulled him for another kiss. This one was more heated and passionate. You could feel the longing in Spencer’s lips as his tongue swiped your lower lip. A moan made you part your lips, and Spencer took that chance to explore your mouth with his tongue. You lightly tugged the hair on the nape of his neck, making him groan.

“I’ve missed you,” you mumbled on his lips.

“Me too. Would you let me show you how much?” Spencer asked you. You could see the look that never fails to make your knees weak: pupils dilated and eyes full of lust.

You nodded, feeling the heat running through your body.

“I could start with how I missed your lips. Your plump and kissable lips.” Spencer pecked them before brushing your lower lip with his thumb.

His touch sent shivers down your spine.

“They do things to me, you know? Like when you pout as you’re deep in thinking or when you part them the times I’m pleasuring you. And what can I say about the little noises that escape from them when I worship you.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that left your mouth—arousal filling your body. Spencer’s fingers were dancing down your collarbone, never breaking eye contact.

“Spencer...” You moaned, eyes lost in his gaze. Words failed you to say how much you needed him. But he understood. He knew you better than yourself.

“Shush. It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of you. Let me show you I mean it,” he cooed, trailing kisses from your cheeks to your jaw and neck.

“Mmm.”

The pleasure was so overwhelming that you only could make sounds. Spencer didn’t think twice and left wet open-mouth kisses on your skin. You threw back your head to give him better access.

“I love your neck. It’s so sensitive and smells delicious. My lips could stay here forever, kissing, sucking, marking...”

The action itself punctuated each word.

You were positive that you’d find out a trail of hickies tomorrow. But you didn’t care.

“Spencer, please...”

“Yes, sweetheart. I’m here,” he mumbled, leaving traces of his touch on your covered skin. But you needed more. Your clothes were an obstacle you couldn’t stand for another minute.

Parting from his kisses, you grabbed Spencer’s hand and led him to your bedroom. Illuminated only with the dim light from the hallway, you make him sit on the edge of the bed as you peel out your clothes, tossing the garments anywhere in the room. Spencer’s eyes roamed your body, licking his lips in anticipation. You are gorgeous and flawless. You are beyond perfect. He doesn’t understand why you can’t see that.

Your naked form approached him, your hands moving to his shirt buttons. As your fingers fumbled, trying to reveal the skin of his chest, Spencer’s hands clutched your breasts, leaning to lick your hard nipples. You couldn’t help the moan that ripped from you, making your task of undressing him more difficult.

“Am I distracting you?” Spencer teased as he alternated his attention from one breast to the other.

“Very much so,” you protested, heavily breathing due to how sensitive your nipples were. Spencer smirked and gave you a truce, leaning back in the bed and resting on his elbows. You bit your lower lip to resume your task. In minutes, his clothes were on the floor, and you were pulled to the bed by Spencer. Your back on the mattress as he hovered over you.

“So beautiful. So gorgeous.” Spencer praised, peppering kisses on your skin.

“You are one to talk,” you teased, letting out a half sigh and half moan. Spencer’s mouth on your body didn’t do anything but set your body on fire. His kisses trailed down, reaching your hips and then your thighs. Out of instinct, you parted your legs, revealing to him all of you. Spencer growled at the sight.

“I’m going to make you feel good. The way you deserve, sweetheart.”

Then he dove between your legs to fulfill that promise. And God, he did it right.

His tongue was gentle but hungry, and his fingers explored every part of you. Your moans and cries rewarded his touch. You were lost in delight, and Spencer couldn’t be more satisfied seeing how he could give you such pleasure.

A scream of his name told Spencer you were close. To make you fall to the edge, he sped his motions: tongue and fingers moving faster in you.

“I’m - oh!” You whimpered.

“I know. Let me feel you, my love. Let me drink all of you,” Spencer demanded, moaning in your core. That did the trick. You reached your pick, and the coil in your lower stomach snapped. A cry of pleasure left your lungs as your back arched, and your muscles tensed only to relax as you descended from your high.

Spencer repositioned by your side on the mattress, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. You looked at him back, lids half-open, still regulating your breathing.

“I love you, Spencer,” you mumbled. He beamed at you. His hazel eyes shone in the dim light coming from the hallway.

“I love you too, (Y/N). You and only you,” he said as he leaned down to kiss you. It was a sweet kiss, but you still needed more. You both needed more.

“Make me yours,” you requested on Spencer’s lips. “And remind me who you belong.”

Spencer moaned, feeling his hardness twitch over your thigh.

He kissed you again, this time with purpose and passion. His body was in flames, and in his mind, just one thought: ‘she’s mine, I’m hers.’

Kneeling between your legs, Spencer parted from your kiss to look into your eyes. You nodded, telling him you were ready for him. Barely blinking, he aligned in your entrance - the gates of Heaven, he could say.

Slowly he made room for him in you. Spencer bottomed out and stilled for a moment so you could be accustomed to him inside of you. The feeling made you both moan at the same time.

When you slightly started to rock your hips, Spencer knew you were ready. He retracted almost completely to snap his hips forward again, setting a steady and slow pace, savoring each part he could reach inside you.

“Oh God, Spencer...” His gaze on you as he thrust again and again. You were so immersed in his pace that you only wanted this moment not to end. He was equally focused on you.

“Fuck. You feel so so good (Y/N),” Spencer panted. Sweat glistened on his forehead and chest.

“Spencer, please. Harder,” you demanded.

You wanted to feel everything. You wanted to blend your body with his.

The way you both moved in unison only made your need and love for that man grow. How could you even think of a life without him?

Spencer’s gaze was on you all the time. Even if the pleasure was intense and his eyes fought to squeeze shut, he didn’t want to miss this moment. He needed to commit to his memory your eyes full of craving and passion; how your body contorted in pleasure; how your lips parted, gasping for air.

You were so close again, and you knew Spencer was too. His movements were more sloppy and frantic.

“So so close...” you cried.

“I’m right behind you, my love,” he panted.

Spencer knew what to say to push you and him toward your climaxes.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Show me - show me who I belong (Y/N),” he chanted as his breathing sped with each thrust.

“Spencer!” You wailed. Spencer’s words pushing you to the edge.

“I’ve got you. Let it go,” Spencer mumbled on your lips.

And you did. Your toes curled, and waves of pleasure ran through your body. Your sight went blank, and you swore you didn’t have an orgasm that strong before. The sensation was much better as you heard Spencer grunting and felt his warmth filling you.

“So so good, sweetheart. I love you,” Spencer panted, collapsing on top of you and descending from his high. “My only love, my only one,” he slurred, muffling his words in your neck.

“I love you, Spencer,” you exhaled, stroking his damped hair and kissing his temple.

Still regulating your breathing, Spencer showed your neck and shoulders with little kisses. Your fingers massaged his scalp and drew irregular patterns on his back.

After some minutes, Spencer pulled out of you and headed to the bathroom, looking for something to clean you off. Methodically he removed from you the traces of his and your desire. Once ready, both climbed under the covers, snuggling. Spencer tucked his arm around your shoulder as you rested your head on his chest.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked quietly. You hummed.

“I am now,” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should have told you what was going on. I promise not to make the same mistake again. I frankly don’t know what I would do without you in my life, and I hope you can see that,” he declared, kissing the top of your head.

“And I don’t know what would I do without you in mine. I guess my insecurities took the best of me. You know I’m usually not like that, but - ” you trailed off.

“You don’t have to explain to me, sweetheart. If anything, this ordeal only confirms what I already knew,” he mumbled, stroking your hair.

“What is?” You asked, tilting up your head to look at him. You found your boyfriend’s lovesick gaze.

“That the past is the past, and you are my only present and future.”

You grinned at him, leaning up to kiss the man you love with your all heart.

Yeah, things could be messy sometimes, but you learned that you both were stronger enough to overcome anything.

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

Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19

For this fic added: @taffymelon

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[love-toxin]

wicked -- isekai killer (alec)

warnings: noncon, blood, violence/murder, victim blaming, overstim, multiple orgasms, bruising, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, fem reader.

word count: 2.6k

spice level 4/5

The wind between the buildings howls. Warm blood splatters in a spray across your face. It's all over by the time it starts dripping off your chin, but the shivers running through your body don't stop as the murderer kneels down in front of you, a hand on your bare thigh. 

Alec stares back at you, his youthful face out of place on an adult's body. The sick glee on his face is also misplaced, but he smiles despite the blood that paints his own skin. 

"There's my girl." 

He giggles, rubbing your thigh with a possessive touch that you're too afraid to shy away from. He's scary, he's a monster, but you don't know how he fits into this world you're unfamiliar with. Those men that gave chase after you were also monsters, calling out for you and cackling with twisted jeers as they grabbed for your skirt, and he saved you from them. So do you owe him for that, or would it be better just to run away from him also? 

Alec reaches beneath you and picks you up, his hands roaming and squeezing as he does so. He's lithe, but he's got the kind of strength that would rarely be found in your world–especially for a young man like him. He doesn't seem concerned about the catatonic state you're in after watching two men die horrifically in front of you, but he does try to keep away from crowds and any pairs of wandering eyes. He hurries on light feet towards what looks like a two-story inn, and instead of heading through the front door, he makes quick work of hopping up to a nearby roof and launching himself through an open window. He rolls to a stop with you clutched safely in his arms, but you're still so shocked you barely feel the impact–and it isn't until some time passes and you're lifted down into a hot bath that you finally seem to click back into reality. 

"Who are you?" 

The question flies from your lips without warning, and as you start to look around your surroundings and find yourself nude, you yank your arms up and hug yourself in a desperate bid to keep him from seeing anything else. If the water didn't feel so nice on your weary body, you would have gotten out at once–but you stay, partly because Alec is standing right next to you, and force yourself to look up into his eyes. He leans down, and grips the edge of the tub tightly with his half-gloved hands, and the intimidation that he gives off in that moment by itself is enough for you to believe that you never, ever want to get on this guy's bad side. 

"I'm your hero. I rescued you from those men. That deserves a reward, don't you think?" 

And then, he does something your mind wouldn't even consider in any normal situation. Alec reaches down into the water, and with a smug smile, he dips his fingers between your legs and touches you. 

"A-Ah-!"

The water sloshes around you as you jerk and bring your hands out to push him off–but he's one step ahead, and shoves his face into yours to claim your lips in a hot, heavy kiss. Alec's arm is too strong for you to make any headway as your hands pathetically grab at his bicep, and with his tongue halfway into your mouth, he slides his fingers inside you while you're too preoccupied to try and squeeze your legs together to stop him. He's moaning something into your lips, his tongue wet and slippery as he pushes it in and forces your own down in the process, all while he presses his long fingers so deep inside you that you can feel some kind of strange pressure in your lower abdomen, like you suddenly have to use the toilet. When he curls them the feeling only grows stronger, and it's only when you start shrieking against his mouth that he chuckles and draws them away, choosing instead to spread both digits out like he's stretching you in preparation for something. 

"Are you gonna cum?" 

Alec laughs in your face, his tongue flicking out to lick your lips even though you're turning your head away and squeezing your eyes shut to try and escape it. It wouldn't be a threat at this point if he hadn't started rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure scratching some kind of itch that you hadn't realized was there until it starts to become unbearable. 

"If you cum, that means you wanted to do this. I won't hold back then, okay?" 

Oh, god. You push even harder on his arm and even dig your nails into his skin, squirming and thrashing against his touches to the point that your bathwater is splashing out of the tub now. Alec's fingers are fast, thrusting inside of you so deep that they're only stopped by the wall of your womb, and no matter how much you try to break away he refuses to take his thumb off your clit. You're practically digging your own grave now, your hips bucking so much that you're moving your own body against it like you want it that badly. 

"Who am I kidding? I'm gonna fuck you no matter what. You're mine." 

You finally open your eyes then and find Alec's face barely an inch from yours, his expression nearing a crazed state as you get closer to cumming. Your fear only seems to turn him on more, and when you beg him not to do that you notice the bulge of his cock in his pants as he rubs it over the rim of the bathtub. A glance down and what looks like a cloud of blood in the water obscures your view–your nails have cut deep enough in his bicep for him to bleed, but when you pull your hands away, Alec buries his fingers even deeper inside you and watches as you slowly come unravelled. His encouraging whispers for you to give in against your ear are what really undoes you, and with your hips raised so high up you're barely even touching the bottom of the tub save for your feet, the orgasm that's been building hits you like a train and blows all sense from your mind as Alec fucks you on his fingers all the way to the end. You slump back against the tub the moment after, body draining itself of energy while the adrenaline works its way through your veins, and you're so weak you barely realize that his arms are around you until he's lifting you up. 

"N-No…no, wait…" 

You push against him, but it's a pathetic attempt. Alec plucks your body from the bathtub and holds you up over his shoulder, caring not for the way you drip water all over the floor and himself as he walks back through the open door to your bedroom. It's fairly lavish for an inn room, that much you can tell, but your focus moves back to Alec once he leans over and lays you down on the plush bed. You watch passively as he tugs his shirt up and off over his head, throwing it to the ground like he can't get it off fast enough. His pants come down next, falling around his ankles for him to step out of and kick away without him breaking eye contact once. His cock bobs with a surprising weight for someone so slim in the body, and it twitches as it's exposed to air and he climbs on top of you, letting it hang so close to you that you can feel the heat of it against your skin. 

"You're so pretty." 

It sounds genuine, but Alec has proved himself more than a sadist, so you're not sure what to believe. He takes a moment to stroke your cheek, seemingly taking enjoyment out of how limp you are and that you've stopped pushing him away. His kiss is much warmer this time, gentler, even, and he trails more of them down your neck and against the valley between your breasts, before taking one of them against his mouth and sucking deep enough to sting. He leaves a bruise on your left one before moving to the other, and this time plays with your nipple by circling his tongue around it before he starts to suck. You find yourself feeling grateful that he at least isn't using teeth, but then he bites down and apologizes for the pain with a myriad of kisses to soothe the mark. You can tell by the possessiveness in his eyes that he isn't remorseful about it though, his cock pulsing and spasming the more he surveys all the bruises that prove you're a part of him. 

Alec nudges your thighs apart, and finally settles his cock in to nestle between your folds, already slick and puffy from your orgasm. Something slips out when he pushes against them, teasing you with what's to come–but whatever it is, you don't catch it, and maybe you should be glad you didn't. He cages your body under his just in case there was any doubt left in your mind, his elbow resting just by your head, and moans softly against your lips as he lines himself up and presses the tip inside you. It's a stretch, a deep one, and you're trembling yet again as Alec spreads you out tightly on his cock like you're just barely able to fit him. And it must be a formality, because when your hands come up to grab his shoulders and he finally manages to hit the soft, fleshy womb that separates you, that's when his expression twists into something more wicked and he rears back just to sheathe himself completely inside in a violent thrust. 

"Haa! Hah, yes!" 

The tattoos down his arm flex with his muscle, his sweat creating a shine over his skin like he'd just gotten out of the bath with you. Even though he just barely fits, he thrusts against you like a jackhammer, ripping any shred of thought from your mind save for how shamefully good it all feels. He's so rough that you flinch every time his balls slap against your ass, the heaviness of them taking you by surprise as he pins you with his free hand against your chest. His palm rubs hard against your nipple and you would think it would hurt, but the sensation paired with the ache of Alec's cock bashing your cervix on repeat just sparks something hot within you. He wouldn't be able to move so easily without you being so aroused, after all, your slick adding a visible creaminess to his shaft as he pulls out and slams back in. Maybe you're lying to yourself when you think this was all on his end, but either way it doesn't seem to affect him as he moves his hand away from your chest, and uses his fingers to tweak at your clit. Wet and sensitive, it's an easy way to force your mouth open with a moan so he can slide his tongue in again, and he sucks on yours with a heated fervor when you clench hard around his cock. 

"Cum on me again," 

Alec breaks away and pants, moving back in for another open-mouthed kiss the moment he gets the chance. Air is not his main concern, evidently, and in fact it just seems to make him harder and hornier if his flushed face is anything to go by. 

"I'll cum for you, too. Just for you." 

He ends that sentence with a harsh groan, apparently surprising himself with how close he actually is. And you're not going to last either, not when Alec can't stop fingering your clit and drooling against your neck and your mouth, a string of "I'm gonna cum," and other warnings falling from his lips. He hits his stride the second he can't speak another word, gliding in and out of you twice as fast when he's chasing after that high he so desperately needs from you–and finally, with a hard thrust and his balls tightening up so stiffly against your cunt, Alec blasts your pussy with cum so hot that it burns the second it splatters against your womb. He doesn't let you crawl away even if you had the strength to do so, his arms moving to wrap around your neck as he collapses with his full weight on top of you and milks every drop into your cunt. The warmth is enough to push you over the edge as well, and a shudder wracks your body once more as you tighten up around where Alec is still buried inside you, his breathing morphing into a humiliating chuckle at how easily you cum because of him. With your legs hitched up around his waist, you can't move them down either, so you're forced to endure shot after shot of warm cum pumping inside you while you think of how likely it is that you might suffer even worse consequences after this. 

"You're twitching a lot….haa…" 

You can't see his face, but Alec's hand raises higher to pat your head and his fingers smooth over your hair as he slowly steadies his breathing. His own hair tickles your cheek as he rubs his face into your shoulder, and peppers your flushed skin with kisses as if it would erase all that he has done to you up until now. But he doesn't care about that. You know for a fact that he doesn't. 

He groans once more as he gets up, a deeper, grittier one this time, but he doesn't make a move to extract himself from you. Held up by his hands against the bed, he glances down to take a look at what he's done, and when his eyes meet yours again he snickers in a way that inadvertently makes you clench around him. 

"Ah, I made a mistake. I should've given you your contraception before we started–oh, well. I'll take care of it tomorrow." 

His attention is occupied by his hand running down your body, taking stock of what he's done and where he's pinched and grabbed you hard enough to leave a bruise. He cups your breast in his hand and jiggles it with a dark sneer, enjoying the weight of it as he tugs at your nipple one more time and watches as your back weakly arches off of the bed. 

"It's your fault, y'know. Your voice made me cum a lot faster, so maybe you should pay me back for it?" 

The second he lets go is the moment you collapse back down, tired, sweaty, your body thoroughly abused. You can barely log what he's saying in your head until he starts nuzzling his face between your tits with a gentle murmur. 

"Let me make you cum again, lady. How about 100 orgasms? That'll be fair repayment, right?" 

Alec cackles even louder than before at your shocked expression, and dips his head down to plant a kiss on your lips before you can say otherwise. Being with him is so exhausting and this whole day has drained you, so you don't even try to stave off your sleepiness even though you fear what might happen when you're asleep. As bad as it is, it's probably not any worse than what he's done while you've been awake, and it might even be preferable to not be privy to his sadism any more than you already have. 

"Have nice dreams, okay? Just think of me….me, me, me, me." 

Your eyes are already closed. You can feel his breath on your face, stuttered and heavy. You don't want to belong to him any more than you want to be in this world, rather than the one you know.

But he did save you, after all. So, really, what choice do you have? 

[absolutelynotmate]

cupcakes-- m.schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 650 a/n: I just want to pinch his cheeks

The whole house smelled like cake, you’d been baking all afternoon and were mixing red food coloring into the vanilla frosting when he got home from the gym. He called his hello from around the corner and appeared soon after, sweaty and stupidly sexy, water bottle in hand. 

He set it in the sink with a metallic thud, and then he’s hugging you from behind, kissing your neck and your shoulder and your hair. “Micky!” You giggled, squirmed in his arms. “You’re so gross.”

“I’m your gross,” He says, releases you from his strong grip and swipes his index finger through your half-mixed  frosting. 

“Baby!” You scold, smile on your face, and shove him in the direction of your bedroom. “Go shower.” He walks backward toward the room, wiggling his brows and laughing while he sucks the pink frosting from his finger. 

“Do you want to help me decorate?” You ask when he’s done and showered, lounging on the couch and crolling through his phone. You watch over his shoulders as he clicks the power button off, drops the device face down onto his chest. You swear you can see his smile, even though you’re looking at the back of his head. 

“I can think of nothing I want to do more,” He replies, standing up with a groan, stretching, yawning, lazily trudging over to joining you in the kitchen. You hand him a butter knife and the frosting container. 

“It’s not a race.” You warned him, pointing your own knife at him. 

“It’s always a race.” He kisses you and laughs, but listens, takes his time covering the cupcakes in pink frosting. He pays so much attention to detail that you figure he’s holding a silent competition with you. If he can’t race you, he can make a better looking cupcake than you. You finish frosting your half before he does.  Aye! He yelps when you grab one from his side. Keep your grubby hands off my cupcakes. 

You roll your eyes, set it back down on the counter and grab the sprinkles from the pantry. You’re done before he’s finished frosting, still tediously painting the cake with his dull knife. You set all of your cupcakes carefully into the plastic holder, remove one right after, and sit on the counter next to him to eat it. “I like that one,” You say, mouth half full, pointing to the one of his that looks the messiest. “What happened there?”

He’s moved onto the sprinkles, now, holding the cupcake at eye level and carefully placing each sprinkle individually. He glares at you over the frosting. “That’s the abstract one.” You laugh, almost spit the cupcake out of your mouth, laugh harder. He shakes his head, chuckles, too. You love to make him laugh, even if it’s accidentally. 

You swipe a finger through the leftover frosting when he isn’t looking, and when he sets his finished cupcake on the counter, you wipe it on his face, pink and sweet and sugary on his cheek. He jumps, tries to dodge, to swat your hand away, but the deed is already done. You look at him with wide eyes and a stupidly giant smile, lick the rest of the frosting off your finger. “You’re dead!” He says, and you launch yourself off the counter with a squeal, running from him around the island, laughing and laughing. He chases you into the living room, tackles you onto the couch. He kisses you and gets frosting on your face and you giggle into his mouth. “What do you have to say for yourself?” He asks. 

You beam, try to bite your lip and stifle a laugh. “I love you?” 

“You love me?” He mocks, tickles your side. “You love me, huh?” He repeats, kissing your cheeks and your forehead and anything close to his lips.

“I do!” You laugh hard, without restraint, loud and unabashed and achy.

[smileysuh]

Sunday Kind of Love : Frat Mark

⇢ Synopsis: Mark is fine with having a crush on the girl in the library. He’s fine watching her from afar. And he’s fine with never speaking a word to the girl who he spends many nights chasing in his dreams. But fate, and a few nosey frat brothers, think Mark would be much better if he was forced to talk to the cute girl from the library that he can’t seem to get out of his head. 

⇢ Pairing: Mark x fem!reader  ⇢ Genre: slow burn, comedy, smut after 30k of pining. ⇢ Warnings: inexperienced/soft reader, frat nct, extreme pining, tooth hurting sweetness, the softest boy in the world, a love so pure it’s going to hurt you, oral (f/m receiving), dry humping, tiddie worship, multiple orgasms, switchy/no bdsm role Mark, etc... ⇢ Word Count: 35.8k ⇢ Tropes/AU’s: Frat au!, slow burn, soft boy x sweet girl, library romance, frat found family, general frat shenanigans, etc...

⇢ fic music inspo: Sweet boi (chevvy) - Flaming hot cheetos (clairo) - Pink bubblegum (lavi) - Sunday Kind of Love  (Etta James) -  I’m Yours  (Jason Mraz)

Frat NCT Au Masterlist HERE

1: Thursday - October 23rd

“I’m not telling you who she is, or you’ll do something weird,” Mark states firmly as he leads Jungwoo up the campus library steps. “I told you, I’d walk with you here, but now you have to leave me alone, and go work on your project.”

“But I wanna see the pretty girl,” Jungwoo whines, which always draws a few eyes of people in the surrounding area. A few girls look over and heat flares across the Canadian’s skin. Usually Mark caves under pressure, especially the pressure of people watching a six foot two puppy man make baby faces at him, but today the Canadian music theory major stands firm.

“No.” Mark adjusts the baseball cap on his head, shielding his eyes from his friend and pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Have fun on your group project”

Mark leaves Jungwoo in the entryway, heading up the stairs two at a time. He reaches the third floor with record speed, then the Canadian weaves his way through tables and students until he finds the section you’re almost always sitting at. 

It’s a large enough room that Mark generally feels comfortable enough to test fate and get away with being on the edge, close enough to you most days, but far enough that to a normal person, it wouldn’t look like he comes here for you… which he does. 

Your designated study spot is close to the windows, at a small table that’s usually not full, but Mark has never had the courage to ask to sit with you. 

He enjoys his space by the vending machine where he spends too much money on snacks to chase away hunger after hours spent sitting here, unwilling to leave until you have, even though it’s not a competition… it’s not, Mark just can’t stand the idea of leaving first sometimes.

Today, Mark settles in like normal. He pulls out his book, then his laptop. Next comes big headphones, which he has on him at nearly all times. There’s a brief internal conflict on whether or not he’ll take off his baseball cap or let the hat, glasses and headphones crush his head- although, he has been told on numerous occasions that his head is a little too large, so perhaps some squeezing will do him good-

Movement catches Mark’s eye and he watches a lost looking Jungwoo appear from the opposite way Mark had come- Jungwoo truly hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d never been to the library- and is approaching… you?

Mark sits there, gobsmacked, as Jungwoo casually takes the chair across from you as if it was his to begin with. Leaning forward, Jungwoo launches into an animated story, and the Canadian is pretty sure he hears his own name once- twice- three times before Jungwoo takes a breath and seems to ask you a question.

Mark can’t believe he’d turned down Jungwoo’s offer of being study buddies.

Well- he can. The idea of heading over to your table is horrifying.

As the initial shock wears off, all of Mark’s grand ideas dissipate as sense takes over, and soon, he’s back to being ultra comfortable in his seat by the faithful vending machine.

2: Friday - October 24th

“So Mark takes me to the library, and I offered him to come study with me and my partner while we worked on our project, but Mark wanted to go look at his crush-”

“Did you see her?”

“Lucas, shush-” Jungwoo rolls his eyes. “Anyways, Mark ditches me and I go work with my partner for like four hours. Then my partner has to leave because she had dinner plans-”

“What?” The Canadian perks up at what ‘dinner plans’ could mean.

“Mark, it’s my story,” Jungwoo scolds, shushing his friend with a light push to the shoulder. “Anyways, she leaves. And I was pretty hungry so I was thinking ‘what should I eat?’ And I passed a vending machine! So I stop, and guess who’s sitting there? Mark Lee!”

All the eyes shift to Mark, who is already blushing. He can feel his ears turning red with heat and he looks down, not willing to meet anyone's gaze.

“Turns out, my partner, who he didn’t want to come hang out with, was Mark’s crush! And he sat by the vending machine and watched us for four hours!”

“I did not,” Mark says, and he hates how unconvincing he sounds. He can’t look up, face hidden by a dark green ball cap, which only makes his heated skin stand out more to the men around him.

“He probably studied a little,” Johnny suggests, mouth half full of ice cream from where he’s sitting on the counter by the fridge. 

He’s sweaty from a workout, his muscle shirt inside out to betray the exact form of cardio to all his friends, none of whom have the balls to tease the largest frat brother in the house (especially when it’s from something involving his girlfriend, who he’s quite protective of).

“Yeah,” Mark says. “Yeah! I did study!”

The Canadian heads to the fridge. He’s not hungry, but he wants to be closer to Johnny, who won’t make fun of him for any of this, and is the only person who hasn’t overtly pressured him to reveal your identity-

“So who’s your partner?” There’s the question - directed at Jungwoo, who is notorious for being terrible at keeping secrets.

And who does it come from?

Nakamoto fucking Yuta.

Ever since Yuta set his best friend up with Jaehyun, the three of them have been ‘on the prowl’ (well, Jaehyun less so much) looking for a cute girl to set Yuta up with.

Mark doesn't think Yuta will purposefully hit on you, but he’ll come around to say hi one day and then boom- you’ll fall in love with the man who looks like an anime prince and can say ‘I love you’ in something like six languages- as can most of the guys here, now that Mark thinks of it- so yeah- Mark can’t let you anywhere near his super hot frat brothers.

You already looked pretty smitten with Jungwoo, if Mark is being honest with himself. His hand finds the back of his neck and Johnny notices his friend’s mood has shifted, his body getting closer to the Chicago Native who shields him by swiftly changing the subject of the conversation.

“Guys, leave Mark’s poor crush alone.” Johnny’s tone is joking, but his voice draws all eyes. And his body language must express that he’s not joking, because Jungwoo puts his phone into his pocket immediately.

“Is anyone actually going to Haechan’s presentation pregame tonight? Pretty soon it’s going to be Presentation Pregame and Drunk Poker,” Johnny says, an apt topic change.

“Don’t give him ideas.” Doyoung’s stern voice announces his presence before he swiftly enters the room. He heads to the fridge, pushing past Mark and pulling the hood of his hoodie down to expose hair still drying from the man’s morning shower. He opens the fridge to begin the next part of his ritual: making breakfast.

“Did you hear the worst part?” Lucas says as he shovels a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, squishing it over into one cheek to speak. “No girls allowed.” He goes back to happily munching, looking around as if it’s the craziest thing ever suggested.

Everyone looks at him for a moment. He’s in dark checkered sleeping pants and a black muscle shirt, his dark hair wet from the shower and someone’s black rimmed glasses perched on his nose to set off the more angular side of his features. He’s a vision, and it takes a full moment for anyone to say anything due to the sheer striking effect of Lucas’s morning visuals, that no one was expecting or prepared for.

“Camping was no girls allowed,” Johnny points out, referring to the trip they’d gone on only a short time ago. Mark and Haechan had shown up late because the Canadian had been at the library and lost track of time while you both studied- Johnny wonders if it’s because Mark wanted to sit near you- maybe Mark does have a problem.

“Except Yuta brought his girlfriend, and then Jaehyun ended up with her!” Jungwoo exclaims excitedly, always the lover of gossip, and this particular turn of events had shaken him to the core when he’d found out about it. He’d always thought Yuta would end up with his best friend, not Jaehyun. It’s the only time in Jungwoo’s life that his match making senses had been off - there’d been the time he’d been in a weird game of seven minutes in heaven and he’d taken one look at Lucas and his best friend at the time and said: “They’re going to fuck for sure.”

He’d been right. Of course.

“Should we invite Mark’s girlfriend and see if he ends up spending the night with her?” Yuta smirks, always the type to tease. He reaches out and pinches at Mark’s cheek. The Canadian smacks his hands away.

“She’s not his girlfriend yet,” Jungwoo insists loudly, looking down at Mark in a way that makes Mark kind of mad.

Johnny hops off of the counter, drawing everyone’s attention. “Guys. Who’s presenting tonight?”

“Haechan himself, obviously. The first presenter sets the standard and he’s the one who came up with his whole presentation night thing,” Doyoung says as he finishes with his cream cheese and toast with five perfectly sliced cucumber medallions, turning to swiftly leave the room in the same manner he’d entered it.

“Will you be there?” Johnny calls as Doyoung gets farther away, almost out of ear shot.

“Someone has to chaperone.”

3: Saturday - October 25th

“You can’t be serious,” Yuta groans when he watches Mark drag himself out of bed on Saturday morning before noon.

The time could be eleven AM, three, five- it wouldn’t matter, Yuta is done for the day before it even starts, and they both know it.

Presentation night had gone… well, technically, it had gone terrifically.

By the time Haechan was even starting his presentation - which included sparklers and a podium Haechan brought in specifically for the event - a few of the younger men (newbies to legality), were giggling with tipsiness.

“The best frat vacation trips, ranked by me, the star character of all of them!” Haechan had announced, “Opening with number one! The trip where we purposefully left Doyoung in an Ikea parking lot in the middle of Sweden.”

Things had erupted after that, naturally, as Taeyong had spent two days convincing Doyoung that they hadn’t left him on purpose- and to his credit, Taeyong hadn’t left Doyoung the way the rest of them had- he’d been too drunk at the time to remember Doyoung’s existence.

The mere thought of the night before makes a shiver run up Mark’s spine, the taste of tequila flaring across his tongue- had he brushed his teeth before Johnny carried him to bed? He has some memory of Taeyong poking at his teeth, but he can’t quite remember if it had been with a toothbrush or a mozzarella stick.

“I have to study,” Mark says as he grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder before adjusting the hoodie covering his form.

“Liar,” Yuta groans, rolling onto his stomach and hiding under his blankets.

“I’ll bring you some lunch on my way back home,” Mark promises, feeling a little sorry for his roommate, who had been going hard with his drinking in the month since school started up again.

Mark’s not sure what’s up with Yuta, but he knows there’s definitely something troubling the resident anime prince.

The frat is quiet as Mark walks, heading down to pass through the kitchen and fill his water bottle. There, he bumps into Johnny, who agrees to head with him to the library before going on his morning jog.

Like their frat house, the campus is mainly deserted on the early Saturday morning, and Mark prefers it this way. He’s often busy reading while he walks, catching up on class content, or responding to group texts, and the abundance of skateboarders and other students who drive multi wheeled vehicles always stresses the Canadian out.

Mark enjoys the morning light peeking through the clouds to signify the start of the day. The air is crisp, just the way he likes it, and the leaves that scatter the walkways betray the season.

“What are you going to be for Halloween?” Johnny asks, mind on a similar topic to Mark’s as the two frat boys head across campus.

Mark shrugs, playing with the straps of his backpack. “I hadn’t thought much about it.”

“But your crush is coming right?” Johnny’s elbow nudges into the Canadian’s side, and Mark shuffles a little to the right as they walk, keeping him out of range of any future nudges from the tall man who never seems to know his strength.

Mark shakes his head, “I hope not.”

“What? Why?”

“It would be weird if she was there.” Mark isn’t able to really verbalize why it would be weird, but the thought of seeing you in a crowded room, surrounded by people, is so much different from the way he often pictures you at your desk with your eyes fixed on a book. 

He enjoys the aesthetic of you, the calmness- it’s something he’s unable to really find anywhere else, given the fact that at any given time at least two guys are probably getting laid in his house, and likely five others are doing something just as crazy that Mark wouldn’t want to walk in on-

He really wants to keep you in your own special little library box, and Mark dreads the notion that you’ll continue studying with Jungwoo on the project the two of you are working on. He hopes it will be over soon, and that things can go back to normal, with you being his safe, pretty, little crush, that he doesn't have to share with the world, let alone his frat brothers.

4: Sunday - October 26

On Sunday morning, Mark wakes up feeling refreshed. Yuta often sleeps with the window open, and it had rained the night before, allowing the scent of fall to be carried in along with the cold.

Sitting up, and running a hand through his dark locks, Mark’s eyes find his roommate’s bed empty. This prompts Mark to rise, goosebumps erupting over the bare skin of his chest when he reaches for his glasses next to the window, the air caressing his skin as if to say hello.

With a groan, Mark shuffles over to his closet, grabbing a NCT House hoodie. When Mark leaves his bedroom, his head half through the hole of his hoodie as he pulls the fabric over his body, he bumps into Shotaro. Once he manages to get his clothes fixed, Mark follows Shotaro down the hallway. “Have you seen Yuta?” he asks, shocked a little at the coarseness of his voice. 

“He’s making brunch.”

Mark pulls out his phone in confusion as they trudge down the stairs. “It’s only like ten though.” 

Yuta is rarely awake on weekends before noon, and if he starts being mature now, Mark might have to pull up his own big boy pants- something he’s not very excited to do, given the fact that there is always at least one house mother in the form of Taeyong or Kun who is willing to baby any frat boy unwilling to leave behind the mannerisms of their teen years.

“Mama Jae is here,” Shotaro responds quickly, and suddenly everything clicks into place.

‘Mama Jae’ is the new name Yuta has given to his best friend, who happens to be dating the resident soccer team Captain. She’d always been a big presence in the frat, as Yuta’s best friend, but now that she’s over to see Jaehyun even more- 

Well, if there’s one thing Yuta will get out of bed for, it’s his best friend, and Mark enters the kitchen to find ‘Mama Jae’ stirring a pot while Yuta rolls around with a blanket on the floor.

“So when you said ‘Yuta is making brunch’-” Mark grins, drawing the eyes of the half asleep, obviously moody man on the floor. 

Shotaro smiles softly, setting a massive container of Kimchi onto the counter- it looks like the one Haechan usually stores in his room, and Mark worries Yuta may have sent his poor little (frat brother) on a fool's errand in retrieving it, because when Haechan finds out it’s been taken-

“Hey Mark.”

“Hey mama Jae.” Mark smiles softly at the girl who turns to wave at him from her cooking.

“Mark, I’ve told you a billion times, you’re allowed to call her mommy Jae if it fits your kink better,” Yuta says from the floor. 

“God, it’s not even ten and we’re already talking Mark’s mommy kink?” Jaehyun sighs as he enters the kitchen, immediately walking up to his girlfriend to slot himself behind her at the stove, pressing a kiss to her cheek that has Yuta making a gagging sound that Mark doesn’t quite believe.

“I don’t have a mommy kink!” Mark groans, starting to think that a McDonalds McMuffin might be a better option to food with the boys if it means he’s going to be ripped on for a kink that he’s never even indulged in-

“Prove it!” Yuta screams back, his usual response when mommy kink gets brought to the table.

“I hate to say it,” Jungwoo’s voice enters the fold as the tall Mechanical Engineer takes a seat next to Mark at the kitchen counter, “but I’m starting to think this mommy kink thing might not be real.”

“What makes you say that?” Yuta sits up, gazing at Jungwoo quizzically.

Jungwoo shrugs, reaching for an apple sitting on a fruit platter Kun diligently keeps stocked for the ‘growing boys’ who generally prefer minute made ramen. “His crush isn’t a mommy type at all.”

And he would know.

“She’s not?” Yuta cocks his head.

Mark feels a little bad that he really hasn’t informed his own friends on any details pertaining to his new library dream girl. 

Jungwoo shakes his head again. “She’s very baby,” he responds. “Very cute. The kind of girl you just wanna squish-”

“Hey!” Mark pushes at Jungwoo’s shoulder, unable to allow his friend to talk about you in any more detail. 

“Tell me you don’t wanna just rest your head against her boobs-”

“Jungwoo!” Mark screams louder, standing up while heat flares across his skin, his hands forming fists at his sides. 

But Jungwoo will not stop.

“And when she wears her cute little preppy outfits-”

Mark groans, throwing his hoodie up and over his head before pushing his glasses back up his nose. “I’m going to McDicks,” he announces.

“Mark, he’s just joking-” Jaehyun tries to talk the Canadian down, his red ears betraying his anger to everyone in the room, but Mark is already closing the door to the frat house shut behind him.

5: Monday - October 27

“Mark, trust me.”

“No.”

“Trust me,” Jungwoo says again as he pushes the Canadian down the hall towards the area of the library where his study buddy is waiting.

“I refuse.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You decide you like her, and flirt with her right in front of me while I have anxiety and can’t even speak, and look really stupid-”

Jungwoo scoffs loudly. “When has a girl ever not fallen for the whole ‘I'm cute and Canadian, and stutter over my words around pretty girls’ thing you do?”

“It’s not a thing!” Mark insists. “That’s just how I am around cute girls!”

“Oh.” Jungwoo frowns. “Well, it better work.”

Mark’s feet stop moving when they reach the study room and his eyes land on you. You’re already in your little corner, your books set up, three empty seats around you at the table-

“Mark, come on!” Jungwoo insists again, grabbing onto Mark’s forearm to drag him the rest of the way. 

“I really don’t want to-” Mark groans, but then you’re looking up at him, a curious smile on your face as you nod to Jungwoo before returning your gaze to Mark- and the Canadian’s words die down in his throat. He licks his lips, suddenly aware of how thirsty he is- and he makes a grab at his backpack while Jungwoo pulls out the seat next to you.

“Y/N this is Mark. Mark this is Y/N,” Jungwoo says, waving a hand. “He’s going to study with us, that’s okay right?”

You nod, looking up at Mark, who nearly chokes on his water when you ask, “Don’t you usually study by the vending machine?”

Trying to swallow and answer you quickly, Mark ends up sitting down in the chair across from you, fumbling with his backpack, his laptop, and the water bottle that he almost sends spilling across the table. “I uh-” Mark adjusts the baseball cap on his head, hoping to hide his ears, which he can feel are hot with nervousness. “Yeah, I study- I study near the vending machine sometimes.”

“You usually have big headphones?” you point out, looking at Mark with these big eyes that make him just wanna droop to the floor and crawl away from this entire situation because god damn, you look so pretty, and you’re trying to talk to him and he doesn’t even know English at this point-

Mark nods, swallowing thickly.

“He’s a music theory major,” Jungwoo says smoothly.

“Oh wow!”

Mark is shocked at how your face lights up, and his heart lurches in his chest, his own passion for music blooming at the notion you’re kindred in your love- suddenly he wonders what you listen to, what music you like- do you like poetry music? Or things with fast beats?

He wonders if you’d like any of the music he makes when his head gets so full with sound that the only thing to do is to get it out- then he remembers at least five of his most recent songs are about you, and how badly he wants to just-

Mark grabs at his pencil, thumb repeatedly clicking at the button that controls the small stick of lead inside.

He’s been lusting after you for two months now, and something like shame washes over him at the fact that he has music, explicit music, about you- and this is only the first time you’re speaking. To be fair though- in Mark’s songs, it was never so much about what either of you were saying- so much as it was about where Mark was focusing his efforts to earn your pleasured sounds-

You let out a sigh, sitting back in your chair and turning to Jungwoo. “I did some prep for today, but after rereading the assignment, I think we need to change the angle we come at it from.”

Mark has no clue what you’re even talking about, but he doesn’t care, he could watch the way your lips move when you speak for hours. 

The Canadian reaches for his water bottle, sipping it eagerly, trying to calm himself down while you and Jungwoo begin your work. 

To Mark’s great surprise, even with you sitting right across from him, he’s able to focus on his work. When he’s near the vending machine, he’s constantly looking up at you, but seated across from you- it makes it easier in some odd way. He feels the comfort of your aura, and your voice illuminates the periphery of his mind as he works on reading music theory essays, keeping him engaged and grounded even when the words on the page threaten to simply be unretainable.

Before Mark even knows it, the light outside is dimming and he’s onto his last essay before he has to start thinking of his own argument for a paper- but he honestly doesn’t have the brain power to do the last reading. 

Instead, Mark pulls out one of his ear buds, adjusting the way he’s sitting and drawing the eyes of you and Jungwoo, who have been extremely focused this whole time. 

“Are you done for today?” Jungwoo asks.

Mark nods. “You?”

“Almost,” You respond, letting out a soft sigh for the second time today, a sound that Mark eagerly eats up. “But I think I might read this last paper at home.” You reach out and close your laptop before stretching your arms over your head, groaning again. “What are you two doing after this?”

“More studying, after a movie and maybe some food,” Mark responds.

“Are you hungry?” Jungwoo asks, turning to look at you.

Mark holds his breath, waiting on edge for you to respond. It’s obvious Jungwoo means to invite you to get food with both men on their way back to the frat, and Mark isn’t sure if that sounds like a wonderful idea (because more time with you),  or a horrible one (because he’s been on edge this whole god damned time and he needs to just let out a breath and collapse onto his bed and wrap his fist around-)

“I think my roommate made dinner actually.” You pull out your phone, eyes scanning it.

“Yeji, right?” Jungwoo asks, and Mark perks up at the mention of the pretty nursing student who is in and out of the frat with some frequency- specifically Lee Jeno’s room. 

“Uh huh.”

“And you said you’ve never been to the frat before, right?”

“Gosh Woo, I don't like where this is going.”

“I’m just trying to invite you to the Halloween party this Friday!” Jungwoo assures you, and Mark doesn’t like the way his friend’s hand reaches out to cover yours on the table, “I know you’re all study study study, but come hang out sometime, it could be fun!”

“But I wouldn’t know anyone-”

“You’d know me! And Mark!” Jungwoo points out. “And Yeji, and I'm sure you’ve met Jeno.”

“I have,” you confess, and Mark notes the way you avert your eyes- if Jeno behaves in any way similar to the way he does at the frat, Mark guesses you’ve probably not only met Jeno, but seen a lot more of him than you probably would have liked to.

“What would I even go as?” you ask.

“Lots of things!” Jungwoo says quickly, launching into his list of top outfits worn by people to frat Halloween parties in the past. “You can even come in a onesie, or borrow the Pikachu onesie kicking around the frat, and I'm sure someone would be your pokemon trainer!”

Mark laughs at this suggestion, and the way your face drops at the notion of needing a trainer. 

“What are you going as?” you ask, throwing Mark onto the chopping block.

“Erm- I don’t know.” Mark pulls at his hoodie, dragging it away from his chest to give him more airflow across his skin- every time you look at him, he gets this pang of warmth, and it’s starting to get a little uncomfortable. 

“Didn’t Johnny want to be ghost busters this year?” Jungwoo asks, cocking his head at Mark, who has been known to go along with whatever outfit someone hands him the day of.

“Maybe- but I think his girlfriend was going to go as a powerpuff girl or something and Johnny weaselled his way into that.” 

“Is he going as the dad?” Jungwoo laughs as he begins packing up his stuff.

Mark shakes his head, also giggling. “He’s going as the green powerpuff girl.”

“Of course he is.” 

Mark shrugs. “It’s an easy enough costume right? A green outfit?”

“Do you think he’ll try to get his girlfriend to let him wear the green sequence dress she wore to be the frat’s Saint Patrick’s day Beer Queen?” Jungwoo questions, his eyes suddenly lighting up with excitement.

Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “No way.”

“Going as the green powerpuff is actually kind of smart!” you say, and Mark looks to you, waiting for you to explain. “It would be good to go as something with what’s already in your closet, you know?”

Jungwoo nods enthusiastically. “So you could be a powerpuff girl, or wear all black and be a witch- or dress all in orange and be an orange crayon-”

“Or maybe Velma from Scooby Doo,” you suggest, leaning forward to rest your chin on your palm, “or Daphne with purples.”

“Those would be good!” Jungwoo smiles, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Just come to the party on Friday?”

“Fine, maybe I'll let Yeji drag me with her.”

Mark also stands, assessing you. “Do you need us to walk you home?”

You shake your head. “I live close by.”

“You have an apartment in the new building- the one with the pizza place under it right?” Jungwoo asks.

You nod.

“It’s on our way- are you sure you don’t want an escort home?”

“I’m sure. But thank you.” 

Leaving you sitting at your little corner table is harder than Mark imagined it to be, and as he and Jungwoo go down the library’s stone steps , Mark considers you in a Velma or Daphne costume.

Again, he’s hit with that confusing feeling of being excited but anxious, and the butterflies stay fluttering in his tummy the entire walk home.

6: Tuesday- October 28

Mark sneaks a look out the open pub door that allows a draft to flow through the busy Tuesday Trivia night event. It’s raining, and the noise of drops on cement carries in too, a pleasant ambiance as Mark’s frat brothers hurry to answer trivia questions next to him.

Mark’s never cared too much about trivia night, but he sees where Haechan’s drive comes from- everyone sees it when Haechan grabs his equally competitive girlfriend at the halfway point and they disappear into the toilets for the intermission. 

While it’s nice to see all his friends be taken and have girlfriends, Mark has been feeling more and more lonely. Yuta is always date crashing his bestie and Jaehyun, Johnny is always working or with his girlfriend, and Haechan’s version of a good hang out is playing video games and screaming at the other players on coms for five hours straight… or aggressively and loudly screwing his girlfriend anywhere in the frat he pleases. 

Mark’s hobbies have always been somewhat solitary. He enjoys reading, and playing guitar, but lately he’s been wanting to share these with someone- it’s one of the reasons he’s taken to studying in a library and not his own room- well, that, and the fact that Jungwoo is in constant need of cuddles the moment Mark steps foot in the frat house, and sometimes Mark simply does not have the time to put down his textbook and dote on the six foot puppy boy… or one of the other men who always find themselves drawn to the Canadian and in ‘need’ of his affection. 

Haechan collapses onto the bench next to Mark, and this draws the Canadian’s attention from the open door- where he may or may not have been kind of hoping for you to walk by- and no matter how coincidental and one in a million this daydream might be, Mark’s eyes follow anyone who passes by the open door. 

“Ready to carry the team, Markie?” Haechan asks, his hands finding Mark’s shoulders to briefly give him a massage that says ‘go get em tiger’, and Mark adjusts his posture, sitting up better while he plays with the straw in his long island iced tea.

“I’m not even that good at the music round,” Mark reminds his friend, eyes moving to where Johnny is preparing to get their trivia night on the go again after intermission.

“Says the music theory major,” Haechan scoffs, leaving one arm behind the back of Mark’s shoulders while he uses his left hand to reach for his beer. 

“You know I hardly listen to the radio anymore.”

“Because it messes up your thought process, I know.” Haechan rolls his eyes, sighing. “When are you gonna get tired of writing simp songs about wanting to eat girls out, and get back on the mainstream stuff so you can help us win trivia more often?”

“I don’t write simp songs,” Mark states, but the heat rushing to his ears betrays the lie in it, if his voice hadn’t already.

“Oh really mister ‘head between your thighs while I stare into your eyes’-”

“Hey! That’s not my song!” Mark insists. “That’s Lavi- he’s just… a big inspiration.”

“I'm sure he is. Like that cute girl at the library. She’s the one with the ‘pastel skirt, long socks and no bra’ right?”

“Not the no bra part.”

“Not yet anyways,” Haechan grins, clinking his glass against Mark’s before taking a sip. “So what’s the deal with that though? Jungwoo said he invited her to the party on Friday?”

“Yeah, maybe- she might come.” Mark leans forward on his elbows, taking his baseball cap off with one hand to allow his fingers to run through his dark locks with the other, groaning before adjusting the hat back on his head. 

“That’s good news!” Haechan says enthusiastically, and Mark really loves how much his friend tries to find happy things in everyday life- Haechan really is a happy virus, and Mark would be lost without him.

“I guess.” Mark shrugs.

“You’ll get to dance with her- that’s nice! And then- you can do whatever it is you do with women that makes them all so hopelessly whipped for you.” Haechan chuckles, nudging his friend with his shoulder.

“Women don't get hopelessly whipped for me,” Mark insists, but he can’t help the smile that makes its way onto his face as he looks down at his drink. 

“Fix your glasses or learn to read situations better Mark, women are always whipped for you,” Haechan tells him, plucking the circular spectacles off of Mark’s nose to try them on himself. “Fuck dude, you really are kind of blind, huh?”

Mark snatches his glasses back. “Am not.”

Haechan simply laughs, shaking his head at his friend. “So what’s your costume plan for the Halloween party?”

“So many questions,” Mark sighs.

“Did your crush say what she would go as?”

“Maybe Velma or Daphne from Scooby Doo,” Mark answers immediately, enjoying questions centred on you more so than himself.

“So here’s the plan-”

“I didn’t ask for a plan.”

“So here is the plan!” Haechan says more forcefully, setting his beer down with enough force to gather the attention of a few of their friends. “We bleach your hair blonde-”

“We’re bleaching Mark’s hair?!” Ten is suddenly very interested, and he turns his whole body away from looking at Johnny to put his intense gaze directly onto Mark. 

“We’re not bleaching my hair-”

“He’s gonna be Fred from Scooby Doo for Halloween to hit on his library crush, who’s gonna be Daphne or Velma,” Haechan tells Ten quickly.

“Ooh, that could look really good!” Ten nods. “So like, a honey blonde?”

“Guys- I’m not dyeing my hair!” Mark insist, feeling panic begin to rise in his tummy as more frat boys tune into the conversation.

“Dying your hair is fun,” Taeyong says softly from across the table, offering a small smile. 

“Wait, hyung-” Ten grabs at Taeyong’s arm, “aren’t we maybe going to split dye your hair red and white for Halloween so you can be Todoroki from My Hero Academia?”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have the time-” Taeyong answers swiftly- never the type to bother or infringe on his friends and their day to day lives.

“We’ll find time,” Ten assures him. “Mark, we can dye your hair at the same time if you want.”

“Are we ready for the musical round everyone?” Johnny’s voice saves Mark from any further discussion, and everyone turns their attention to the charismatic man with the mic. Mark’s thankful for Johnny, the frat brother who always seems to be saving him, even when it’s unintentional. 

7: Wednesday - October 29th

“I just- what if she comes and then likes Yuta- or Jae-”

“Jaehyun’s taken,” Haechan interjects, stopping at a tree on the side of the hiking path to press his hands against the moss, picking at it and making a face. “Does this look like the moss in the picture?”

“No, it’s too dark,” Mark says, quickly looking down at the lab sheet he’s holding on a clipboard. “When I did this course in first year, I think we found the right moss down closer to the water.”

“So why did we hike up?” Haechan asks angrily, his hands grabbing at the straps of his backpack in a way that makes Mark concerned for their sandwiches inside- they would definitely get squished if Haechan decided to have a full on tantrum and throw the bag down-

“Because-” Mark flips to the second page of the lab form, “we also need to collect some more leaves-”

“More leaves?” Haechan throws his hands up in despair as Mark pulls the ziplock baggie with five different leaves in it out of his pocket. 

“There’s always more leaves,” Mark sighs, knowing how tedious this lab was for him when he completed it.

“And there are always more fish in the sea, Mark,” Haechan matches the Canadian’s defeated tone, “but you’re never gonna catch the fish you want without throwing out some hooks.”

Mark narrows his eyes at his friend, who begins to continue up the path, his hiking boots creating indents in the rain soaked dirt trail. “True, but Jungwoo invited her to a house full of hooks.”

Haechan lets out a giggle, and Mark realizes he must be thinking about the hooks in their frat house that are there for… more sexual reasons than metaphorical, and he groans. “Stop being so dirty minded.”

“Stop being such an innocent simp,” Haechan fires back. “And if there are so many hooks at the party, maybe you have to hook her before the party- ever think about that?”

“Right, so between now and two days from now, I’m going to find time to hang out with her and make her fall in love with me- between this and Poker Night tomorrow-.” Mark scoffs, rolling his eyes as he hooks his thumbs in the straps of his backpack, trudging up the water logged trail after his best friend.

“You don’t have to see her in person- you could text her.”

“I don’t even have her number. Are you forgetting that I just met her on Monday?” Mark laughs.

“Just met officially,” Haechan corrects him.

“Besides- maybe I won't even go to the party.”

“Now I know you’re on crack-” Haechan says, whipping around to look at his friend. “You can’t miss Halloween- it’s the best party of the year!”

Mark stays quiet.

“So what? You’re gonna lock yourself in your room all night while people party outside? What are you gonna do when all your fans come knocking on your door wondering where their favourite guitar player is and why he’s not down by the fire playing music? You think they’ll just let you nap in your room? You think Yuta isn’t going to show up at sometime to your shared room with at least one girl who he plans to fuck the shit out of? Be realistic Mark!”

Mark sighs, knowing his friend is right. 

“I should be in the library studying right now.”

“But you’re not. Instead, you’re here with me, while Jungwoo works on his project with your crush because you’re not man enough to step up to the plate.” 

Mark stops, considering Haechan’s words while he continues up the trail. Then Mark reaches down and grabs a small rock from the path, throwing it at Haechan.

The stone hits Haechan’s arm, and the man lets out a screech as if he’s just been attacked, whipping around to look at Mark with wide eyes. “Hey!”

“Stop saying I'm not a man just because I take my time with things and you don’t,” Mark says, feeling proud of himself once the words are out. It can be hard for him to stand up to his friends at times.

“I’ll stop saying it when you actually get a girl instead of letting her slip through your fingers like every crush you ever had because you’re never able to go talk to her.”

“I just- I'm shy.” Mark frowns.

“But sometimes you’re fun too!” Haechan insists. “At frat parties- who’s the dude who promised to make eggs for a bunch of cheerleaders visiting from another university - while you were drunk I might add - only to go through all our eggs with not a single one completely cooked?”

“Me.”

“And who’s the dude who got offered a whole ass house in return for marrying that girl who was obsessed with you in year one?”

“Me,” Mark sighs.

“So pull up your big boy pants,” Haechan says, poking at his chest, “and fucking act like it.”

8: Thursday - October 30th

“Hey guys, look!” Haechan says when he puts his cards down, showing a pair of queens to match the one already face up on the table, “I’m Jungwoo on Valentine’s day last year.”

The table erupts in a chorus of snickers, and even Mark is momentarily distracted from his phone by the memory of his friend decked out in drag the year before.

To his credit, Jungwoo had shown up at the frat hours after disappearing from the club with not one, but two of the prettiest bartenders, who are known to be hard asses and notoriously difficult to take home.

“You might have Jungwoo and his two queens, but” Johnny grins, drawing Haechan’s wild eyes at the notion he might not have the best hand at the table, “do you have: a complete himbo light tower?” 

The American sets down a pair of kings to join the king on the table, and Haechan lets out an ear piercing scream, jumping to his feet and waving his hands around. 

“You cheated!” Haechan declares.

“Check my sleeves,” Johnny simply smiles, leaning back in his chair while Haechan all but launches himself at the American, furiously patting down the fabric of his muscle shirt, as if there’s any way Johnny could hide a card there.

“What do you have?” Jaehyun asks, his softer voice distracting Mark from the loud brawl next to him.

Instead of answering, Mark tosses his cards down, face up, confident that he doesn’t have anything that can beat Johnny’s three kings. 

“Wait, Mark,” Jaehyun grabs his attention again, “you won.”

“What?” Now everyone is looking at Mark’s cards, and try as he might, the Canadian simply can not understand what Jaehyun is saying. 

“No, I just have a joker and a five.” Mark tells him.

“A jack,” Jaehyun corrects him, fingers brushing the ‘joker’ as Mark had called it, “Yeah, you have those, but they’re in hearts, and all three cards up on the table are hearts.” 

“This is called a flush, Mark,” Johnny explains, shock evident in his voice.

“You won,” Jaehyun repeats, pushing the stack of poker chips in the center of the table towards the man whose supply had been running dangerously low.

“What!?” Now it’s Haechan and Mark gasping, for two very different reasons. 

“Mark’s not even paying attention to the game!” Haechan screams, throwing his hands in the air again while his eyes glint with passion. “He was on his phone the whole time!”

“I’m just checking it,” Mark mumbles.

You’d posted a picture on your instagram of your outfit for tomorrow laid across your bed, having gone with the purple Daphne costume, and Mark has been religiously checking his instagram in the off chance you’ll actually show yourself wearing the fit.

“This game is rigged,” Haechan says again, collapsing into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Then stop playing it,” comes a new voice from the doorway, causing the small group to look up at the man standing there.

Ten has gloves on, and the smell of chemicals perfumes the room with his presence. “I just set Taeyong’s hair up with bleach- are you ready for me to do you next, Mark?”

“He’d love to be done next,” Haechan answers swiftly, a suggestive smirk on his face. He stands, grabbing at Mark and pulling him to his feet even as the Canadian begins to fight back. 

“You’re not seriously going to dye Mark’s hair blonde, are you?” Johnny asks in amusement, leaning back in his chair and raising a bottle of beer to his lips.

“Yes we are,” Haechan insists. “Mark threw a rock at me yesterday, this is payback.”

“You threw a rock at him?!” Johnny and Jaehyun ask in shock, but Mark is already being forcibly dragged out of the American’s room. 

“We can’t bleach my hair!” Mark says loudly as he tries to free himself from Haechan’s grasp. “We don’t even know if Y/N’s going at Daphne-”

“She is!” Jungwoo’s ‘helpful’ voice sounds as they walk past his room- Mark had been hoping Jungwoo either hadn’t seen the instagram post, or maybe that he’d decide today was a good day to start minding his own business. 

Mark should have known better.

9: Friday - October 31st

Mark: Hey! It’s Mark, I’m friends with Jungwoo, he invited you to the frat party tonight and I think you said you’d never been to one? The frat village has a lot of houses in it- I was thinking you might get lost, so I was wondering if maybe you wanted company walking here?

Mark: it’s also just not very safe out on campus for pretty girls at night time

Mark groans. He should never have messaged you. Now he’s just coming off as a blundering idiot, and he quickly tries to fix himself.

Mark: which sucks and I’m sorry about that, and you shouldn’t NEED someone to walk with you just to feel safe

When the blue bubble shows up, signifying you’re typing, Mark hits send before his thought is even done- because his thoughts are done now. Now that you’re there, on the other end of this, working on a response- his mind is completely blank, his breath caught as he waits. 

Y/N: That would be good actually! Yeji was going to walk with me but she just left- she said you guys do pre parties? I wasn’t sure if I was invited to that so I figured I’d wait, and I texted Jungwoo but he’s not responding

Just then, Mark hears a crash, followed by a scream, and four frat brothers go running by his door, one of whom Mark is pretty sure is Jungwoo. 

Mark: Jungwoo is already drunk and we hide his phone when he’s like this :) I can come and pick you up- you’re in the new building by Student Union, the one with the pizza place under it, right?

Y/N: yeah! 

Mark: Text me whenever you’re ready and I'll come get you :)

                                                          ***

When you open the door and exit your apartment building, it’s everything Mark can do to stop his jaw from hitting the ground.

Dressed in a little purple outfit, you’ve taken the Daphne that Mark loved as a kid, and somehow made her even sexier. 

Mark momentarily forgets how to breathe, only for him to half choke on air when you flash him a smile, approaching. 

“Oh my gosh! Look at your hair!” you squeal. 

It’s then that Mark remembers his own outfit, and his thumb rubs at the keys he keeps in the pocket of his bomber, which is hiding the rest of his costume. “Yeah, I uh-” Mark opens his jacket to show off the white blazer and the ascot tie underneath. 

“You’re Fred!” you say, immediately knowing who he is. “I can’t believe you dyed your hair!” Mark freezes when you reach out, touching a strand. “Your hair was always so nice when it was dark- do you miss it?”

You thought his dark hair was nice? Mark is so busy thinking about your compliment that he almost forgets to answer. “It’s only been a day,” he admits, turning and beginning to walk back towards the frat with you next to him. “It’s alright,” he shrugs.

“Just alright?” You laugh. “Most people dye their hair so they can enjoy the new colour after.”

Mark chuckles. “My friends forced me to dye it.”

“They forced you?” 

“I won’t get into it,” Mark tells you, because if he did, he’d have to tell you about his little crush, “but our frat can be kind of crazy with things like this.”

“So forced hair dyeing is a common thing for you guys?”

Mark smiles. “Not necessarily the dyeing part, but we’ve had guys wake up with a notch or two in their brows.”

“And this is why I avoid frats,” you say, letting out a shaky breath that has Mark looking down at you with concern.

“Are you cold?”

“A little, but the frat is close,” you wave your hand.

Mark ignores your dismissal, immediately taking off his jacket, which he holds out to you.

“Won't you be cold?” you ask.

Mark shrugs.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” you tease, accepting the jacket from Mark, who can feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

“I talk,” Mark assures you, “I'm just-” He sighs, “Shy.”

“Shy is good,” You tell him. “It’s just interesting that you’re friends with Jungwoo and all these other extroverts. Maybe my view of frats is wrong- but from my few interactions with frat guys, you don’t really seem like the ‘climb the library building in a diaper with a crossbow attached to my back’ kinda guy.”

“I'm definitely not,” Mark agrees, smiling at the memory of Haechan going bat shit crazy to celebrate their last day of classes the year before. Mark’s also pretty sure Haechan had downed something like three of Johnny’s ‘special’ brownies before grabbing his crossbow too- which doesn't make the story any more safe sounding. 

“I’m also not a ‘tie fireworks to the back of a roller chair to turn it into a jet propulsion system’ kinda frat guy either,” Mark clarifies.

“So what kind of frat guy are you, Mr. Vending Machine?” 

“The kind that can’t cook eggs, but will still try, if it means feeding a kitchen full of drunk people,” Mark sighs, thinking back to the examples Haechan had used for him- and now that he’s saying it out loud, Mark has to admit, he sounds extremely lame.

“You can’t cook eggs?” you laugh, and Mark tugs at his earlobe in embarrassment, shaking his head.

You stop walking and Mark also comes to a stand still, looking at you. “What?”

“You can’t cook eggs!?” you repeat, “and we’re going to a frat party?!”

“Yeah?”

You shake your head. “Mark, let me teach you to cook eggs- it will be really easy, I promise.”

“So you don’t want to go to the frat party?” Mark’s brows furrow in confusion.

You grab at his hand, and Mark nearly jumps from the contact, his eyes moving up to meet yours. 

“I don’t want to go to the frat party,” You tell him, “and something tells me you don’t really want to go either- so come back to my place, let me show you how to cook an egg, and I can also bake some cookies, and we can watch some Halloween movies-”

“Can we watch Scooby Doo?” Mark asks.

You grin at him, taking in his outfit again before looking down at your own. “I think we’re legally obligated to.” 

                                                         ***

“And then you put the lid on, and you just leave it.”

“You just leave it?” Mark asks in shock, looking between you and the egg you’d just cracked into the pan.

“Yeah, some people put a dab of water under the lid sometimes, that heats it, but the thing about eggs is you just gotta wait for it to cook and be patient.” you tell him.

“It’s that easy?” 

“Uh huh.”

“You just wait?”

“Yep.”

“But why the lid? I’ve never seen someone use a lid before.”

“I think it’s faster this way,” you tell him. 

“Well- you tricked me,” Mark insists, and you can’t help the way your grin widens. “You told me you’d teach me to cook an egg in return for a song- and I thought cooking would actually be difficult.” He adjusts his grip on Yeji’s guitar that you took off the wall in the living room for him.

“It’s not a trick,” You tell him. “Play for me while I make cookie dough?”

“Now you’re making cookie dough too?!” Mark says in shock. “Won’t your egg burn?”

“I’m watching it,” You assure him, taking the sugar and flour out of your cabinet. 

You can tell from the look on Mark’s face that he doesn’t quite believe you, but he takes a seat all the same, adjusting the guitar one more time on his thigh before his fingers begin to strum the chords. 

“Will you sing for me?” you ask after a while. 

Mark immediately shakes his head, focusing his gaze on his fingers as he plays a tune. “No.”

“Please?”

“Maybe another time.”

“Did you write this song?” you ask.“I don't recognize it.”

Mark nods. “Yeah, it was something I made for an assignment a few weeks ago.” 

He won’t ever say it, but the lyrics are all about you.

While he strums, Mark follows the verses in his head, repeating a mantra of praises even as you bake, and before Mark knows it, he has a perfectly cooked egg in front of him and the knowledge of how to replicate it.

                                                         ***

Mark thinks he must be in heaven. 

The egg alone had been amazing- if amazing is a descriptor that can be applied to eggs.

Then the cookies had come out of the oven and Mark had fallen even more in love with you as his teeth sunk into the warm, chocolatey goodness. 

And just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, you’d invited him into your room, showing him your favourite things while he hung onto your every word. 

Mark is a music theory major, and he adores learning about music, but he loves learning about you even more. Part of him wants to be quizzed after, just to prove he’s memorized what you’ve told him.

Then you’d moved to the living room, where you’d set up Scooby Doo. At first, you’d sat a respectable distance from each other, but you’d slowly gotten closer and closer-

Now, you’re asleep with your cheek on Mark’s shoulder, your hands looped in his arm, and the movie ended ages ago. Mark doesn’t mind the silence, doesn’t mind staying frozen for fear of waking you, because it gives him all the time in the world to admire you.

His eyes take in your skin, and his hand itches to reach out and play with the pleats of your purple skirt, but he fights the urge, not wanting to move even a muscle. He could take his phone out of his pocket and at least have something to do while you sleep- but Mark’s been avoiding his phone all night.

The calls from his friends asking where he is had started nearly as soon as you and Mark had decided to not go to the party, and Mark knows he’s in for a big dust up when he gets home, but he’s hoping to push that off for as long as he can.

Just as Mark is about to touch your hair - having finally talked himself up to have the courage to do so - the front door to the apartment is thrown open, startling you and Mark.

Your pretty roommate is mid lip lock with a man who dwarfs her in size, pressing her body up against the door, which is probably why it had been so loud when it was thrown open.

Mark is in so much shock at the sudden sight of a pretty girl making out with someone, that he doesn’t even know what to do- luckily, the cat that had Mark hostage, does not have your tongue, and you let out a small “Yeji!” to clue in your roommate to the fact that the common space in your apartment already has guests.

The two people pull away from each other, wild eyes turning to you and Mark, who look back. 

If Mark had been frozen before- he’s way past that now- 

He looks his frat brother Jeno up and down.

“Mark!?” Jeno asks in shock, and Mark realizes Jeno is one of the frat brothers yet to see the new blonde hair colour on the Canadian. 

“Jeno?” Mark echos, having not expected to face his frat brothers so directly any time soon- especially not in a joker costume with makeup half ruined from kissing.

“Y/N!?” Yeji screams, adorned in a matching Harley Quinn outfit. “So this is why I couldn’t find you at the frat!”

“We decided not to come,” you respond.

“Not for the whole night I hope,” Yeji says slyly, grabbing at Jeno next to her. “We’ll be in my room.”

The two of them disappear before Mark or Jeno are able to say another word to each other, and when Yeji’s bedroom door closes behind her, Mark stands. “I should probably get going.” 

“Is it late?” you ask, rubbing at your eyes. “Sorry, I fell asleep on you.”

“It’s fine,” Mark assures you, “you can sleep on me any time.”

The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them, and they leave Mark blushing and stuttering, trying to explain himself while you simply watch him with a smile.

 “Walk home safe,” you tell him softly, pulling Mark into a short hug before letting him go. “It can be dangerous out there for pretty people.”

Mark’s heart sings in his chest at your words, and he rubs the back of his neck, looking down to hide the dopey smile that covers his face. “I guess you’re right about that.” He turns to go, and just as the door is closing he stops. “Study together on Monday?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

10: Saturday - November 1st

“I don’t need help,” Mark assures the hungover men in the kitchen as he goes about his morning, pulling out a pan to begin cooking.

“You always need help with eggs,” Jaehyun sighs, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest while he watches Mark. The soccer team captain has his hood pulled up, and Mark kinda feels bad for Jaehyun- he looks terrible, but pretty much everyone in the frat does.

Mark had arrived back at the house at one AM to find the party still in full swing. Haechan was passed out face down on the front lawn, and when Mark had helped him inside, he’d found the bathroom to be occupied by Yuta, a massive bottle of Vodka, and three girls dressed as cheerleaders- one of whom had been more than eager to leave Yuta long enough to splash some water onto Haechan’s face and prop him up against the wall- out of all the places Mark could leave Haechan, he hadn’t planned on it being in the bathroom while Yuta got blown- but there’d been other pressing matters that needed his attention- like the fact that a few of the younger frat brothers had somehow gotten their hands on a tattoo gun-

The front door to the frat opens, drawing the attention of Mark, Jaehyun and Johnny in the kitchen, as well as Taeyong and Doyoung, who are diligently cleaning up the open concept living room space.

“Jeno!” Johnny greets his younger frat brother as he shovels cereal into his mouth, a happier greeting compared to the glare Jeno receives from Doyoung, who’s never happy about frat boys leaving to have “nightly conquests” before clean up is done. “How was Yeji’s?”

“It was good- did Mark tell you? He was there too,” Jeno says casually, immediately heading into the kitchen to sit next to Johnny and grab an apple from the fruit bowl that Mark had watched Kun diligently refill before going to go do whatever it is that Pre-med students do in the mornings. 

“So that’s where you disappeared to for the first few hours of the party,” Johnny grins knowingly, as all the attention in the room shifts to the poor Canadian, who is trying his darndest just to cook himself a god darned egg. 

“Did you get any, Mark?” a groggy voice comes from under a pile of blankets haphazardly strewn about one of the couches.

Mark had assumed Taeyong and Doyoung had made the pile during cleaning- but when Yuta pokes his head out from under the layers of fuzzy blankets, his hair sticking every which way, Mark realizes Yuta must have been on the couch this entire time. Mark had assumed he’d gone home with some girl- or three-

The entire room is quiet for a moment as everyone just looks at Yuta, who sits up, revealing his bare chest. This causes a scream to erupt from Doyoung - who had, suffice it to say, not been ready.

“Did you get any, Yuta?” Johnny snickers, turning so he can sit on the table and look out at the living room, his bowl of cereal held in one large hand while he eats with the other. 

“Come check under this blanket and maybe you’ll find a little slut waiting,” Yuta smirks, stretching as both Taeyong and Doyoung groan at him.

“It’s too early for this. I’ve had enough,” Doyoung says in defeat, tossing a beer can onto the floor and heading towards the stairs that will lead him to the second floor. 

“And I am not a slut!” comes another new voice, and a second head pops up from under the blankets, on the opposite end of the couch from Yuta. 

Mark’s just as surprised to see Haechan as he had been the resident anime prince- and then suddenly everyone is throwing questions at the sleepy sunshine boy, who is looking anything but sunny- had this been where Yuta took Haechan after Mark had deposited him in the bathroom while Yuta got blown? 

Mark doesn’t even have the energy to question it- and luckily he doesn’t have to, because his hyungs ask for him.

“What the hell are the two of you doing on the couch?” Johnny laughs.

“And where’s your girlfriend?” Taeyong has a hint of anger in his tone, and Mark remembers that Taeyong is quite close to the woman in question..

“Home. Sleeping probably,” Haechan yawns, moaning loudly and earning a soft kick from Yuta, which he returns with even more force. “She trusts me,” Haechan insists even as Yuta all but lunges at him over the blankets, landing with a soft thump on top of Haechan as they begin to wrestle.

“She shouldn’t,” Yuta says as he attempts to pin Haechan down, “you’re a fucking menace.”

“And don’t forget it!” Haechan screeches, using his body to roll the two of them- something Yuta had not been expecting - and the two tumble to the floor in a swirl of fabrics and laughs. 

No matter how much of a menace Haechan is, Mark knows he’d never cheat on his girlfriend. He all but worships her- and their love story had been a long one, full of tensions and push and pull that has led to the kind of relationship Mark aspires to-

The trust Haechan has in his partner, and vice versa, is something that’s always made Mark’s heart clench. 

“Also, hey!” Haechan sits up suddenly from the floor, and then launches onto the couch, popping his head up and over it so he can look at the men in the kitchen, “Jeno, did you say Mark was at Yeji’s?”

“Yeah.”

“So that’s why you missed Halloween you bitch!” Now Haechan is launching himself over the couch, only for Johnny to grab at him, lifting the struggling man off the floor to keep him from Mark.

“No wrestling in the kitchen near the stove,” Johnny reminds the crazy boy still kicking to be released before setting him down.

“The stove!” Mark’s heart lurches in his chest, but for a very different reason, and he turns to look down at his egg, which is now ruined.

Jaehyun smirks next to him. “Told you you needed help.”

11: Sunday - November 2nd

“And you didn’t even kiss her,” Jungwoo sighs, stirring his pot of ramen and shaking his head. He’s been saying this at random moments since the day before, when he’d learned of Mark’s visit to your apartment, and every time he says it, Mark feels the need to explain himself all over again.

“I told you, it wasn’t like that-” Mark groans from where he’s seated in the living room, letting his phone drop from his hands to land on his chest.

“You were literally in a couples costume! And she took you up to her apartment! And baked you cookies!”

“And taught him how to cook an egg,” Haechan adds from where he’s standing by the window, looking out at the rain. 

“Debatable,” Jaehyun says as he walks through the area, headed towards the front door with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I want to meet her,” Haechan announces, even as he continues facing the windows.

“What?” Mark laughs, trying to process his words.

“I said,” Haechan turns to face his friend, “I want to meet her.” 

“No- and hey, why are you even standing over there by the window?” Mark questions, trying to change the subject and beginning to get worried that he’s missing something important right outside. 

“His girlfriend is coming over and it’s raining, so instead of walking to get her, he waits by the window like a sad puppy.” Now it’s Johnny who’s entering the conversation as he walks through the space, headed to join Jaehyun at the door, where he’s already slipped his runners on. Johnny also has a sports pack on his back, and Mark wonders how either of them have the energy or drive to go trek through the rain just to work out. 

“Hey!” Haechan lets out a loud screech, turning to glare at Johnny, “I'm not a sad puppy!” But a moment later he’s looking out the window again and screaming “she’s here!” before darting off towards the entryway, pushing past his hyungs and throwing the door open, running into the rain.

Mark smiles- all of his frat brothers seem to have a reason to brave the storm today, but not him. No, he gets to enjoy the safe, warm, dry frat house, with whatever frat brothers remain to keep him company- and if they’re all busy, well, at least he has thoughts of you, newly recharged after your hang out - date? - on Friday. 

And now, if there’s one thing Mark regrets, it’s that he didn’t kiss you. Because the memory of that? Well, he’s sure it would keep him company forever.

12: Monday - November 3rd

“I’m going to refill my water- do either of you need anything?” Your voice draws Mark from his studying, and he pulls out an ear bud before shaking his head.

“Woo?” You turn to your class project partner, and the man sitting across from Mark mirrors the Canadian’s action. “Then I'll be right back,” you breathe, grabbing your water bottle before heading off in the direction of the cantina. 

“I can’t believe they’re here,” Jungwoo says when you’re gone, and Mark lets out a small ‘hmm?’ sound, somewhat confused by his friends words, but too focused on his work to pay attention.

“You haven’t even noticed,” Jungwoo scoffs, and Mark sneaks a glance at him, furrowing his brows.

“What?” Mark finally pulls out an ear bud to pay attention to his friend, and Jungwoo rolls his eyes - because of course Mark would take out his ear bud for you but not for one of his best friends until the last possible moment. 

“No. I'm not gonna help you and point it out,” Jungwoo says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. “You’re not being nice to me today.”

“I'm literally here studying with you.”

“You just wanna fuck Y/N.”

“Hey!” Mark quickly shushes his friend, his heart lurching into hyper speed while his eyes dart around to look for you and make sure you’re not going to overhear Jungwoo- and that’s when Mark notices a familiar face amongst the students studying in the library.

Johnny Suh has distinct features. With what some sorority girls have deemed to be ‘turtle lips’ and a bone structure that has been compared to ET the god damned extra terrestrial- Johnny honestly has one of the most interesting faces that Mark has ever seen- even when he’s trying to hide it under a haphazardly placed baseball cap that says ‘I’m with stupid’ and points to the right-

Directly at Lee Haechan, another proud owner of a face that makes Mark’s top 10 list. 

A quick once over leads Mark to the realization that a number of his frat brothers are littered throughout the room. Johnny, Haechan and Taeil have a table near the vending machine, while Jeno and Renjun sit by the windows.

Just when Mark thinks he’s spotted everyone, Shotaro comes walking in with a happy smile on his face, and takes a seat next to Yuta, passing him a can of Pepsi that the older Japanese frat brother accepts with a nod before his eyes slide back to Mark- 

Yuta winks at the Canadian, and heat flares across Mark’s skin, his heart lurching in his chest. His fight or flight response kicks into high gear and Mark flips his textbook shut, hands reaching out to grab his things and begin to put them away.

“Are you going somewhere?” your voice makes Mark look up, and you take your seat next to him. 

Your sudden reappearance makes Mark even more frazzled, and he begins to stutter. “No I-” He puts his bag on the ground again.“I was just-”

“Are you bored?” you ask, cocking your head at Mark with a small teasing smile on your face.

“No, I'm just done what I have to do for the day,” Mark says finally, and it’s not a lie. He’s been finished for a while, filling his time with other work, starting a project early- he’s just been enjoying your presence, but now the ambiance has been ruined by the intrusion of his frat brothers.

Mark quickly looks around, and his suspicions are confirmed: all seven of his frat brothers are staring at you.

It makes Mark’s skin heat even more.

You’re still looking at him, and your gaze makes Mark even more flustered. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice is soft, and you reach for Mark’s hand, which is fidgeting with his ear buds in his lap. 

Mark freezes, eyes watching your hand take his and give him a squeeze. The Canadian swallows thickly even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest, and he nods, smiling at you. “I'm just a little- uh, tired today.”

“Well I’m almost done, just have to read a little bit more of this essay- do you want to wait for me to be done, then we can all walk back together? I’ll take you both up on your offer to drop me off at my apartment- it’s on the way.”

Mark lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and he nods. “That sounds perfect.”

You give his hand another squeeze, and then you turn your attention to your computer screen, where the essay is looking up at you.

Mark can’t take his eyes off of you, and his hand feels like it’s on fire where your fingers are laced. 

‘Is she going to hold my hand for the rest of this?’ Mark wonders to himself, a flare of heat erupting across his neck at the notion. 

When you lean forward resting your chin on the palm of your other hand, getting comfortable, Mark realizes it’s extremely likely you’ll keep holding his hand- and his heart races even harder, almost deafening in his ears as all of his senses focus in on you.

He loves your side profile- loves the way you get so into what you’re studying. He’s been watching you study for months, but being up close, being able to just gawk at you - while holding your hand no less - it’s one of the most wonderful things that’s ever happened to him.

Before the Canadian even knows it, you’re finished with reading the essay. Ten minutes must have flown by with Mark just looking at you- but when you close your laptop, and take your hand away from his, it breaks the spell, and suddenly Mark remembers that he’s surrounded by frat boys who are going to tease the shit out of him for this entire interaction. 

But, Mark realizes, does he really care?

He just got to look at you for ten minutes while holding your hand. There’s nothing his frat brothers could say to him that could drag him off of the cloud nine you’d just transported him to. 

When he’s with you he’s untouchable. 

The giggles and looks from his friends bounce off of him instead of bugging him the way they normally do, and his heart rate seems to have slowed down to a steady pace-

Then you look at him, flashing that smile as you say “so should we go?” and Mark’s heart goes into overdrive again, his anxiety suddenly flaring at the realization that the three of you will have to walk past all his frat brothers to leave.

As you pack up, the only thing Mark can think about is how much he wants to hold your hand again.

Wants to feel the calming presence that radiates off of you, seeping through your interlocked fingers- 

“Is that Jeno?” Hearing his friend’s name on your lips makes Mark’s heart drop, as does the way you immediately head over to the two frat boys. 

“Don’t be jealous, Markie,” Jungwoo’s mocking tone makes Mark groan.

“I’m not,” The Canadian insists, but looking over at you and Jeno chatting does bring a few unfavourable emotions bubbling to the surface. And it takes only a moment for Mark to realize why.

Because while Jeno might not be a threat - as he’s kind of dating your roommate - the man next to him is single.

Renjun might not be known as a lady killer, but Mark knows the guy has game. He has this mean sexy thing going for him- and Mark has seen girls fall at his feet before because of it. 

Then another voice is calling out Jeno’s name, and this voice is nowhere near as pretty as yours had sounded.

Lee Haechan draws the eyes of everyone in the library - he’s much too loud - and he comes bounding over, despite Taeil attempting to grab his forearm to stop him. The elder man flashes a frown at Mark that says ‘I tried’ and Mark sighs, realizing that if Taeil hadn’t been here this whole time, this interaction might have taken place much sooner. 

Mark moves quickly, reaching the table you and Jeno are at just as Haechan does, and two things happen simultaneously: you step closer to Mark’s side and his protective instincts kick into high gear - but Haechan also grabs Mark at the same time, pulling him away from you and into a half embrace that has Mark struggling to break free.

“Well, what do you know?” Haechan grins at everyone, “do we all study here often?”

Mark knows for a fact Haechan doesn’t study, and the Canadian fights the urge to scoff - or perhaps even throw hands. He also knows none of the others study here either, and the idea that this whole interaction was planned - likely by Haechan - has Mark’s emotions going haywire. 

“Not as often as we should.” It seems to be the day of voices Mark really doesn’t want to hear.

Yuta Nakamoto is looking ‘fine as shit today’ - Ten’s words that morning, not Mark’s - and Mark can’t stand it. 

“Uh, Y/N, these are all our frat brothers,” Jeno says, coughing and adjusting the collar of his hoodie.

Mark’s heart lurches, he’d been so busy being mad and suddenly attacked that he’d forgotten his manners, forgotten to introduce you to his friends, and now Jeno has to? Jeno is taking Mark’s job?

Mark can’t stand it. 

By the time introductions are done, all seven of Mark’s friends have shown up at the table, with the Chicago native ending the round of names with his classic ‘and I’m Johnny’ line that has the younger men cracking up at the inside joke. 

“We should probably get going,” Mark says as soon as there’s a moment for him to escape. He’s far too aware of the fact that they’re in a quiet library and there is now a group of ten people, nine of them being rowdy frat boys, standing around a table. He knows people are looking at your ragtag gang, and a quick once over of the room has him locking eyes with a girl that’s been hitting on him for over a year now - despite hooking up with Winwin for much of it. 

Mark really wants to get out of here.

“We should,” you agree quickly, and Mark notices the way you step closer to his side, giving him a small smile that he returns.

“Yeah, I'm tired of studying anyways,” Haechan announces, interjecting himself into Mark’s plans yet again. 

“Should we get burgers?” Yuta asks, and immediately a chorus of ‘yes’s’ erupts from the group of big, red blooded males.

“I actually have to head home,” you say, drawing all eyes, and Mark feels sorry for you, because he knows the pressure of eyes, especially the eyes of frat boys. 

“I’ll take you,” Mark tells you softly. “Have fun with burgers, guys,” he says before anyone can invite themselves to this too. Then Mark is reaching for your hand, interlocking your fingers and high tailing it away from his friends while you hurry to follow.

As soon as you’re in the stairwell, Mark lets go of your hand, and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. “Sorry about them,” he says quickly.

“It’s okay. They seemed nice- they were just a bit overwhelming.” 

Mark nods. “Yeah. I know you don’t really like frat parties, and I sort of assumed it was because of all the people.”

The two of you are quiet for a moment and Mark struggles to fill the quiet, worried he’s said something wrong. “I’m kind of the same way,” he tells you. “I like being with the guys- but sometimes it can be too much, and I need alone time, or at least, quiet time.”

Mark’s starting to think maybe it’s not alone time he needs anymore, it’s you time, and he doesn’t want to tell you he needs alone time and then have you giving him space- because that’s the last thing he wants.

He wants you to smother him actually- if possible.

“It still surprises me that you’re in a frat sometimes,” you breathe.

Mark looks at you with a smile. “Me too.”

The two of you continue grinning as you walk through campus, chatting about anything and everything. When you pass an ice cream shop, you discuss favourite flavours and Mark anxiously tries to figure out a way to ask you out for ice cream, but to no avail.

“What are you up to tomorrow?” you ask when you reach your apartment.

“Studying again,” Mark responds quickly, although there’s a part of him in the back of his mind screaming about ‘trivia Tuesdays’, an event he generally takes part in with the frat. 

You nod. “Me too. But I think maybe I'll get ice cream before I study, at maybe… four oclock?” 

Mark stares at you for a few seconds, his brain trying to solve the equation presented to him-

Does (the mention of ice cream) + (a specified time) = a date invite? 

Should he invite himself?

Should he say anything?

Should he just show up at the ice cream place tomorrow? No- that would be bad, what if you don’t mean for him to be there? 

“I- uh-” Mark licks his lips, swallowing thickly as his hand raises to rub at the back of his neck in an attempt to calm himself. 

“You can join me if you’d like, but no pressure,” you say, reaching out and touching Mark’s forearm lightly. “Thank you so much for walking me home.”

“Yeah, uh, no problem.” Mark’s brain is practically short circuiting, and when you hug him, he all but explodes. 

The eye of the storm- the way his brain shuts off completely, if only for a moment, while you hug him- it’s one of the most blissful moments he’s had in a long time. 

The moment is over all too soon, and then he’s watching you leave, heading up to your apartment, and Mark’s heart shatters. Because he never wants to see you leave ever again.

13: Tuesday - November 4th

“Mark!” You squeal, and Mark’s heart lurches in his chest, from you, and from the way his entire scoop of ice cream almost just tumbled to the ground with one harsh lick.

You’re both momentarily shocked by the way his ice cream was almost just decimated- and then you’re both bursting into giggles, with you shaking your head and linking your arm with Mark’s as you leave the ice cream shop. 

“Don’t lick it so hard,” you tease.

Sinful thoughts explode in Mark’s mind and he hurries to push them down, but the most he manages is to stutter a little as his skin heats with embarrassment- and then you’re mirroring his stuttering, choking on your own ice cream. “Not like that!” you assure him, squeezing his arm a little, “Mark! Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“Yours was in it too!” Mark insists, and he enjoys the way you hide your face in his shoulder even as you walk, shaking your head before pulling away and sighing, still with a massive smile on your face.

“Are we meeting Jungwoo at the library?” Mark asks, looking for a topic change. The thought of Jungwoo is a sure way to bring his heart rate down. 

“Oh, uh- he’s not studying with us today,” you say, and Mark’s brows immediately furrow in confusion. “I just- I have a midterm to study for, in another class, so no group project stuff today- and you and I used to study in the library even before Jungwoo introduced us, so I thought you might be going anyways- I’m sorry, we can still call and invite him if you want-”

“No,” Mark immediately cuts you off, “this is good. I kind of like it when it’s just the two of us.”

For a moment, Mark waits for a response, his breath caught- then you’re nodding and turning to smile up at him. “Me too.” 

Mark can’t help but smile all the way to the library, and even once you begin to study, the smile hardly leaves his face. 

                                                            ***

“It’s getting cloudy,” you say an hour or so into studying, and Mark follows your gaze out the window. The clouds are definitely starting to look angry, and Mark didn’t bring an umbrella. 

“Looks like rain,” Mark notes.

“Could be nice. Do you like the rain?” 

Mark shrugs. “I don't really have an opinion on it. But most of my frat brothers hate the rain- it always messes up party plans and outdoor activities.”

“I’m not big on outdoor activities,” you confess, and Mark laughs.

“Me neither.”

“I much prefer to sit in my room, with some nice fairy lights, and some tea, and a good book or something to study- and I can just listen to the sounds of the rain outside.”

Mark can picture you sitting in a comfy bed, with fluffy white blankets he could wrap you in. He can imagine the smell of cookies from the kitchen, because Mark had seen the way you baked on Halloween, and he is starting to associate the feeling of warm cookies in his mouth with you. 

“How's studying for your midterm?” Mark asks, eyes assessing the books laid out in front of you. You’d taken the seat across from him today, and while Mark enjoys being able to see your face more clearly, he misses knowing he can simply reach for your hand next to his and hold it. You’re so far away- with all the books between you- and Mark hates it.

“It’s okay,” you sigh, leaning forward and resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “I’m really stressed out about it. The professor is a bit of a dick-”

Mark is a little shocked to hear you say the word ‘dick’. It’s the first semi swear word to come out of your lips, and there’s something about the way you pronounce it, in your sweet voice which Mark has already grown to love- it triggers something deep in his tummy. He’s not sure whether he wants to call you cute or shut you up with kisses and make you tell him how much of an asshole your professor is while he eats you out-

“How about you? What are you working on?”

Mark had completely spaced out while you talked, too focused on your lips and the images running through his mind- and it takes a moment for the Canadian to recollect himself. “I’m writing some lyrics actually-”

“Really!?” Your whole face lights up with excitement and Mark’s chest squeezes, as if your joy had gone directly into him, and now you’re both energized, despite the clouds outside. “Show me?”

“It’s not done. It’s a first draft,” Mark tells you- neglecting to mention that the contents of the lyrics are quite decidedly centred around you.

How is he ever going to show you any of his songs? They’re all about you- and obviously so. 

“I’ll trust your creative process,” you sigh, and Mark feels like jelly- most people don't respect him when he says no, when he says he’s protective of his newly birthed song babies that have yet to grow and be shaped- “but please, I mean it when I say I’d love to hear one of your songs.”

“Okay,” Mark nods. “Or maybe- do you have any favourite songs? I play guitar- I could learn a song for you-”

“You’d learn a song for me?” You look at him with the biggest, sweetest eyes Mark’s ever seen- he swears he can see stars twinkling in your irises, and heat flares across his skin with embarrassment, forcing him to look away from you.

“Yeah, it’s really not that hard to learn something new.”

“You must be really talented.”

“I’m really not.”

“You are,” you insist. “I can feel it.” You narrow your eyes at Mark to prove your point before your expression softens and you cock your head to the side. “I honestly just want to hear your voice- so I’m good with any song.”

“Any song?” Mark croaks.

You nod. “Whatever you think sounds best with your voice.”

“I’ll have to think about that,” he tells you, and he will. 

It’s going to be the only thing on his mind when he goes to trivia night at eight, and if he didn’t already know his frat brothers kind of intimidate you, he probably would have invited you to tag along-

But no. He has to keep you and his other life a little separate still. It's not the right time for these things to overlap anymore than they already have, no matter how hard Haechan is pushing for ‘a future godson’ - which Mark insists will be provided within no time by one Jeong Jaehyun. 

14: Wednesday - November 5th

“I had the longest day,” you say as you sit down across from Mark at his table in the library.

The Canadian half closes his lap top, pulling his headphones off and setting them around his neck to rest on his shoulders. He smiles at you.

Neither of you had coordinated about meeting here- and Mark enjoys the way this feels natural, as if you had had plans to meet. 

“What happened?” he asks, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, eyes assessing your windswept hair, slightly dampened from the misty on-and-off weather outside. The way you take your jacket off, exposing a pretty purple sweater underneath brings Mark back to Halloween, when you’d cuddled up next to him to watch Scooby Doo.

You launch into a story about the ‘dick’ professor, and how he’d gone over some of the questions in preparation for the midterm, but had been extremely vague and hadn’t cleared anything up- in fact, he’d probably made the entire class even more confused.

“When is the midterm?” Mark asks.

“Monday,” you sigh. “I have five more days to study.”

“You’ve got this,” Mark tells you, reaching out instinctively to place his hand over yours. “I’ll try not to distract you much today, how about that?”

You laugh, “I don't know how well that will work.”

“We can do thirty minute segments of hard work and then a five minute talking break,” Mark suggests.

You look at him, and then you nod. “Yeah, that could be good.”

“Do you need to vent some more? Or would you like to start now?” Mark asks.

You sigh. “I want to keep talking to you- but I know we should start studying. I also don’t want to interrupt your study time.”

“You never interrupt,” Mark assures you, giving your hand a squeeze before retracting his arm. “And we can talk as much as you want after your midterm.”

“Promise?”

 He smiles softly at you. “Promise.” 

15: Thursday - November 6th

“Who is it?” The voice coming from the intercom is buzzy, but Mark can tell right away that it’s Yeji and not you who has answered his call up to your apartment.

“Hey Yeji, it’s Mark,” The Canadian responds, “can I-”

The door buzzes, the intercom clicking to signal Yeji has hung up, and Mark laughs to himself, adjusting his rain jacket and heading inside. He tries to get most of the water off in the entryway, but he’s aware of the small puddle he leaves in the elevator up to your floor. 

Mark’s heart is thumping in his throat when he reaches your door, knocking softly only for it to be thrown open a moment later. You’re standing there, wide eyed, in a little apron, and the Canadian thinks you must be the prettiest girl in the entire world.

“Mark! What are you doing here?!” you ask, grabbing his hand and dragging him into your apartment before beginning to fuss over his jacket, helping him take it off with care and hanging up to dry. He momentarily takes in the warmth of the space, the wonderful smell, and the sound of Etta James singing soulfully from speakers somewhere in another room.

“I was going to go to the library and maybe bump into you there- but then I remembered you said you like to study here when it rains- so I thought maybe- maybe you’d want a study buddy?” Mark can feel himself blushing, can feel the words coming out in stutters, but he can’t manage to get a grip on himself. He never can when it comes to you.

“I was actually just going to text you and invite you here, or come meet you at the library!” you beam up at him. “You read my mind.”

“Really?” Mark asks in shock, warmth spreading across his skin despite him still being cold from the rain.

You nod. “And I just put cookies in the oven!” You grab his hand again, leading him to the kitchen, where Yeji is standing by the sink, filling a water bottle.

“Hey Mark.”

“Hey Yeji.” He takes in her outfit, noting the jacket she’s wearing, “heading somewhere?”

“Volleyball practice,” Yeji nods, turning to grin slyly at the Canadian, “which means you two have the apartment all to yourselves.”

The connotation of her words hangs thickly in the air, and Mark struggles to find a response, but he comes up empty handed. Luckily, you shush your roommate, shaking your head and getting much more flustered than Mark- you all but corral Yeji to the door, and before Mark knows it, it’s just the two of you in your soft, warm apartment, while the storm rages outside.

The emptiness of the apartment suddenly feels very real, and Mark is hyper aware of you as you head back to join him in the kitchen after locking the door behind your roommate. 

“What are you studying today?” you ask as you take your space by the stove, opening the door to peek at your baking.

The aroma perfumes the room and Mark stifles a groan from how wonderful your cookies smell, taking a seat at the little island in the kitchen so he can watch you. “Still working on a song,” He tells you. “The lyrics are a bit better today.”

“That’s wonderful!” You say with excitement, and Mark falls in love with you every time you show enthusiasm for him and lift him from the anxiety ridden purgatory mindset he often finds himself wallowing in. “Are you going to tell me what the song is about yet?”

Mark laughs at the way you cock your brow at him, and he shakes his head, running a hand through his messy blonde strands. “Probably not.”

“Meanie,” You pout, and Mark finds himself beaming at you, studying your face as you grin, opening the oven one final time to remove your perfectly baked cookies. “So we have to let them cool for five minutes- but then I was thinking maybe we could study in my room?” Mark’s heart lurches at the notion and you’re quick to continue talking, speaking faster as you get more flustered, “or we could study out here, if you’re more comfortable.” 

“Your room sounds nice. I uh-” Mark adjusts the collar of his hoodie, which is beginning to press a little too tightly to his hot throat, “I really liked your fairy lights the last time I was here.”

“You did?” The smile that spreads across your face is enough to have Mark’s heart singing and his head nodding enthusiastically in confirmation.

“I also like this music,” Mark says, now looking for anything he can compliment if it’s going to merit a similar bright reaction from you.

“Etta James,” You both say in unison- then break out into small giggles.

“Of course you’d know who this is,” you smile, “you’re a music theory major. I bet you know lots of music.”

Mark shrugs. “It comes with the territory. But I like Etta. She has a really good voice.”

“Her music always makes me want to dance,” You breathe, smiling softly to yourself as you begin to take the cookies from the pan and place them onto a clean sheet to cool. 

“Then you should dance,” Mark says simply.

“What?” You look up at him.

“You should dance,” Mark repeats.

“Here? Now?” You laugh. “In front of you?”

Mark nods.

You immediately shake your head. “I couldn't,” You insist, looking down at your cookies. 

“But you said Etta makes you want to dance,” Mark states, standing and holding out a hand to you, “here, what if I dance with you?”

“You want to dance with me?” 

The way your eyes have widened and you’ve somehow gotten smaller with your posture makes Mark just want to grab you and hug you and shower you in kisses and affection, but instead, as you accept his hand, he says, “Who wouldn’t want to dance with you?” 

The way you immediately go to hide against his chest, letting out a “oh my gosh” that becomes half muffled by his hoodie as you press your forehead against his collar bone, your fingers wrapping up in the soft fabric by his hips while his free hand finds the small of your back. “I can’t believe you.”

“Why?” Mark chuckles, trying to ignore the rapid beat of his heart as he begins to sway to the music. It’s a slow song, and Mark knows it’s near the end of the tune- not a very good song to start dancing too, but he just has to keep you talking and wait it out until the album continues.

“You’re just- you always know what to say,” you sigh, finally moving your head away from Mark’s chest so you can look up at him. “And you’re too nice.”

“I’m too nice?” The Canadian laughs, feeling his skin heat with embarrassment.

“It’s not a bad thing!” you insist, moving your hand that had been grabbing his hoodie to his shoulder, and in that moment, you realize you’re really dancing with Mark.

You’re chest to chest, one hand held by his while he cradles you, with the other on your waist- and in that moment, the song changes to possibly one of the most devastating songs on the entire Etta playlist.

“I want a Sunday kind of love” wails through your speakers, and your heart urges you to sing, to match the exclamation of need- 

But standing with Mark in your kitchen, half dancing, you think you might be the closest to a Sunday kind of Love as you’ve ever been.

He’s so beautiful, his warm brown eyes set off by the blondeness of his hair. You don’t miss the way his gaze darts down to your lips, and you lick them instinctively, only for your skin to heat in embarrassment at the movement that had been unconsciously done, your body simply reacting to the man in front of you before your brain had even had a chance to catch up.

“This is a good song,” Mark says softly, and he begins to pull away from you- only to help you into a wonky spin that has you both giggling. “Try again?” Mark prompts, and this time when he twirls you, instead of being two uni kids on the cusp of falling deeply, madly, in love- you feel like a princess who has found her prince charming, but then again, who’s to say there’s any difference?

When your spin is complete, you find yourself chest to chest with Mark again, but much closer than before. Giggling has left you a little breathless - or maybe that’s just Mark’s effect on you - and this time when you look up to meet Mark’s eyes, you don’t look away abashedly. Instead, you meet him straight on.

“Can I-” Mark leans forward, and you can’t help but look down at his lips before moving your gaze back up to his chocolate irises, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes please,” you nod, unable to help the smile that spreads across your face before Mark is pressing his lips to yours. 

One of his hands moves up to cup the side of your face, and it adds a tenderness to the already soft as a cloud way he’s kissing you. He tastes like mint gum, a nice coolness when his tongue swipes over your bottom lip.

Shifting in his embrace, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest closer to his while you open your mouth to deepen the kiss, a soft, content sound leaving your lips. 

“Fuck,” Mark groans, breaking the kiss in favour of rubbing his forehead against your own. “That sound-” your skin heats with embarrassment, “you’re so cute!”

“I am?”

Mark laughs, both of his hands finding your hips. Then he groans, letting out a deep breath. 

He wants to tell you that you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. That he worships you. That he adores you. That he’d kill Haechan for you - but then again, he might have to do that for himself one day if Haechan isn’t careful-

“Should we study?” you ask, and Mark realizes he’s missed the moment by being caught up in his own thoughts of you.

He can’t let himself forget that so far, silences with you have been filled- Filled with studying, or movies- and while he relishes the idea of having comfortable silence with you, of laying next to you and simply playing with your fingers or doting you in affection- it’s obvious that moments of quiet still make you a little anxious. 

Mark wants to fix that.

Instead, he nods. “Sounds good.” He clears his throat, shocked at the croaking sound he’d made, and then he’s the one who’s embarrassed and anxious. 

You grin at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before moving out of his embrace, heading to the sink, where you fill a glass of water.

Mark takes the opportunity to try to recollect himself. He grabs his backpack, swinging it over one shoulder in preparation to move to your room to study.

 “Here,” you say, returning with the glass of water. “I know you usually like your water bottle when we study.” 

Mark accepts the drink with a smile, and then you’re grabbing his hand, towing him with you towards your room. “Get comfortable anywhere you want,” you tell him. “You can have the desk if you want, I don't mind studying on the bed- I'm just going to go grab the cookies so we have snacks and I'll be right back.”

Being left alone in your room feels intrusive- because Mark wants to look at everything. He wants to approach your bed and touch the fairy lights that illuminate the grey of the room, caused by the gloom outside. 

Your window is open slightly, and Mark can feel the coolness of the air- which only tells Mark how nice, warm and homely your room is. 

He could get used to this.

                                                           ***

“How's studying going?” you ask when you’ve been successfully working on cue cards for an hour, Mark sitting at your desk working quietly on his own devices. The Canadian turns in his chair to look at you where you’re laying tummy down on your bed, cards scattered in front of you.

“Not bad,” he says. “You?”

“Doing okay. Finished my cue cards.”

“That's nice!” The enthusiasm that jumps out of him makes your heart swell. You love how much of a little cheerleader Mark can be. 

“I was wondering- if you don’t have to work on your song right now, maybe you’d want to help quiz me a little on these?” 

“I don’t,” Mark says immediately, “don’t have to work on my song,” he clarifies. 

You light up, and Mark watches the way you scoot over, making room for him next to your body on the bed- or at least, that's what he thinks you’re doing. He waits for you to pat the open spot before approaching, and he lays down gingerly, careful and extremely aware of his proximity to you.

“Here.” You snuggle up to his side and Mark lets out a shaky breath, his skin practically singing where your arms are pressed together. He’d taken off his hoodie a while ago, and you’re in a tank top, allowing for the direct contact that’s making Mark question his sanity. “These ones maybe?” You put a stack of about twenty cards in front of Mark and he picks them up, examining them.

“I was also thinking-” You cut off abruptly and Mark looks sideways at you. “Never mind.”

“What were you thinking?” Mark prompts.

“It was nothing.”

“You sure?” Mark nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“I was just going to say maybe- maybe for each one I get right you could give me a little kiss- but then I thought it might be stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“And I also thought- maybe, maybe that would be too much, you know?”

Mark feels frozen.

“I just mean-” you quickly correct yourself, “I’m very- I’m not- gosh.” You hide your face in your hands. “I don’t have a lot of experience with guys, and I think slow is better for me, but-”

“Slow is good,” Mark confirms, “we can go as slow as you want.” 

If only he could get his heart to slow down.

You like him. You have to. You want more kisses, so that must mean- that must mean you like him the way he likes you... right?

“I just- I really like you.” 

Explosions go off in Mark’s head. His skin feels like a match that’s suddenly been lit, and it takes every ounce of self control in Mark’s body not to immediately let out a sound of triumph- or to maybe kiss you - but he reminds himself to be calm. And instead of screaming, or puking, or crying, or dying over your admittance of ‘liking him’, Mark manages to say, “I like you too.”

But his voice cracks.

And then you’re both giggling while Mark feels his ears turn red, but when you lean over, resting your head on his shoulder, it makes it all worth it.

16: Friday - November 7th

It’s nine am and Haechan is leading a group of four exhausted looking first year pledges in what he calls ‘the rain dance’- which pretty much consists of him assigning each person a complete coloured rain outfit (with Haechan being the Yellow Minister of Rain events, of course), and then directing them in a haphazard, wonky, circular dance that involves screaming loudly at the sky - which Haechan insists is able to control the weather and force rain clouds to go running. 

Mark is sitting next to Johnny, protected by the cover of an overhang of their frat house, and the two tired frat boys watch their friend dance.

Haechan dips, letting his fingers glide across the wet grass, and then he throws his hands up in the air, letting out a wail that has Mark, Johnny, - and a number of other guys in the village who are on their respective frat house decks watching, - burst into giggles.

The four pledges, dressed in white, blue, green and pink, match the motion with much less pizazz. 

“Rain!” Haechan screams loudly, “go away!”

“Come again another day!” Johnny yells, cupping a hand by his mouth to make his voice louder so it can stretch across the lawn to reach the group in the center of the little frat village. 

“Rain!” Haechan wails again, forcing his circular dance to come to a halt when he falls onto his knees, facing the center, “don’t be a little slut!”

“That’s new,” Johnny chuckles and Mark shakes his head, unable to stop the smile on his face at his best friend’s antics. 

“Don't be a little slut!” comes a chorus of screams from the four pledges.

“Do you think he kind of stole this from that Austin Powers movie?” Johnny asks, cocking his head, “the whole colour coordinated rain jacket thing-”

Mark’s phone buzzes in the front pocket of his hoodie, and he pulls it out, heart jumping when he sees your name on the screen. “I dunno,” he mumbles, brain attempting to make good on his friend’s musings- but it’s obvious how distracted Mark is.

“Your girlfriend?” Johnny asks, nudging Mark’s shoulder as he leans over to look at the Canadian’s phone. When you’re friends with Johnny, you learn pretty quickly that any phone in the house is, in fact, his phone, and he’s going to go through it- unless you keep your passcode under lock and key- which Mark is simply unable to do. 

“Yeah- wait, no, she’s not-”

“Is she coming to the party?” Johnny smooths over Mark’s nerves, and the music theory major quickly reads your message.

“She says Yeji is, but she’s going to be studying all night.”

“Sucks to be her,” Johnny chuckles, popping a chip from the bag on his lap into his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Mark says softly, but there’s little agreement in it.

“Don’t even think about it Mark.”

“Think about what?” Mark can’t take his eyes off his phone, his fingers hovering over the keys in preparation to type a response.

“Skipping the party again to go study.” Johnny crunches into his chips. “Haechan would kill you.” 

Mark’s eyes go to the man who is still all but rolling around in the grass while screaming up at the clouds that deposit light precipitation onto the frat village.

Haechan really wants to party. He’s willing to make a fool out of himself in some weird rain ritual to get the skies clear, that’s how much he wants to party. And Mark can’t relate to it at all.

There’s only one thing he’d get onto his knees begging for- 

Mark types a response into his phone, and a moment later your message dings up at him: ‘my place at seven for studying :) can’t wait to see you’.

He can’t wait either.

                                                           ***

Mark can’t take his eyes off of you, no matter how many times he tries to read his textbook, his gaze always seems to simply rise- finding you on your bed.

When Mark had shown up, you’d suggested grabbing food before studying, and you’d been dressed in an outfit that made sense for being out and about. Last time, you’d been in sweats and a tank top, and while the comfortable look was adorable- Mark is obsessed with the little pastel skirt and sweater number you have going on.

Laying flat on your tummy, your skirt just covers the rump of your ass, teasing Mark with the pretty flesh of your thighs-

You move your head, drawing Mark’s gaze, and your eyes meet, causing his skin to heat with the notion that maybe you’d caught him gawking at you for the seventieth time. 

“How’s the music theory?” 

“Good,” Mark says, fiddling with his pencil. “How's midterm studying?”

“Good,” you sigh, “but- I think I'm getting tired.”

“You had a long day,” Mark notes, knowing that you started your morning with a nine o'clock seminar with Jungwoo. He checks his watch, which reads 12:30 AM. “Maybe I should go and you should sleep.”

You groan, closing your textbook and rolling onto your back so you can stretch. Mark watches the way you lift your arms over your head, your back arching slightly as you work out your muscles. The small gasp that leaves your lips before you go slack has Mark’s pants feeling extremely tight, and he shifts slightly in his chair by your desk. 

“I don’t want you to go yet,” you say after a moment, and Mark all but melts into a puddle on your floor. “Maybe- do you wanna-” You turn onto your side, facing Mark and making some space on the bed. The moment your hand touches the mattress - an invitation - Mark is jumping to his feet to come join you. 

“Can I hold you?” he asks once he’s settled, also on his side and facing you.

You nod, both of you moving forward, meeting halfway and connecting like puzzle pieces that should have been fit snug together the entire time. Mark can’t help but let out a contented sigh, and you snuggle into his chest, getting comfortable in his arms as your hands bunch up in the fabric of his hoodie. 

Often, with girls, Mark feels the need to fill the quiet- and he knows you’ve been having the same anxieties- but with you in his arms, his mind goes completely blank, and any anxiety induced words that could have come spilling past his lips, have seemingly dried up- nothing more than a hazy afterthought to the feeling of having you pressed close to him.

Neither of you say anything. 

Soon, Mark’s aware that you’ve fallen asleep on his chest, and just like the first time you’d fallen asleep against him, he vows not to move, for fear of waking you.

It’s three am when Yeji comes home, and her loud arrival in the entryway outside of your room wakes Mark up to confusion. It takes a moment for him to get his bearings, eyes becoming used to the soft glow of the fairy lights that are still on.

It takes a long time, but Mark is able to slowly move off the bed, untangling your limbs from him so he can turn off the fairy lights. For good measure, he grabs a fuzzy blanket that you usually have hung on the back of your desk chair, and he lays it over your body, making sure you’re covered. 

Standing at the door to your bedroom, looking in at your sleeping form, Mark hates to say goodbye. But he turns off your bedroom light and slowly shuts the door, forcing his feet to carry him back to his frat house, which has begun to feel less and less like home.

17: Saturday - November 8th

“I’m sorry again for falling asleep on you-” you say for the third time in your phone call, and Mark shakes his head to himself, adjusting the coffee cup in his hand while he walks through campus. 

“It’s fine,” Mark assures you, “you were really tired.”

“School is really hurting right now.”

Mark frowns, not enjoying the thought of you hurting. “But your midterm is in two days, then you’ll be able to relax a little,” he reminds you. 

“I really should get back to studying,” you groan.

“I think so too- but I actually have a little surprise for you.”

“You do?”

“Uh huh,” Mark grins, coming to a stop in front of your apartment. “Do you maybe want to come down and see what it is?”

“What? You’re here?!” He can hear the excitement in your tone, and when he lifts his eyes to the window he knows to be yours, he sees the blinds get thrown open. Less than a moment later your head pops out the window. “I’ll be down in a sec!” 

The line goes dead.

Mark chuckles to himself, pocketing his phone while he waits patiently. He’s been running little errands all day- but when he walked past the coffee shop and realized he’d be heading right by your apartment, he’d had no choice but to get you a drink. After all, you’ve been working so hard.

When the door to your apartment building opens and you come running out, Mark is momentarily in shock. You look absolutely adorable, in an oversized shirt that acts pretty much as a dress, and cute fuzzy slippers. 

“Mark!” you beam, all but running to him. Mark opens his arms and you jump into them, nearly catching him off guard and forcing the Canadian to steady himself for fear of spilling your present.

“Hey you,” Mark breathes, grinning down at you while you beam back.

“What a good surprise!” You smile. “Are you going to come up and study with me?”

Mark’s heart drops. “No- I have to get back to the frat for a meeting,” - a meeting he’s honestly considering ditching now - “and actually the surprise is this,” Mark holds out the coffee.

“Two surprises!” you say enthusiastically, accepting the drink. “Thank you so much!” And then you’re on your tiptoes, pressing a chaste kiss to Mark’s lips that leaves him dumbstruck.

“You’re- uh- you’re welcome.” Mark can feel the skin on his neck flushing, and he rubs at it with a hand. “Like I said I should go, but good luck today.”

“Thank you.” There’s a moment of quiet, then; “Do you maybe want to study tomorrow?”

“I have another frat event,” Mark frowns, suddenly hating how busy being a frat boy often makes him. He used to love all the events- hanging out with friends - but now, whenever he’s with them, he always wants to be somewhere else. Somewhere with you.

“Oh.” 

“But you’re going to do great,” Mark assures you, reaching for your free hand to give it a quick squeeze. “Now you better go back inside before you get cold.” 

He’s worried about your bare legs in the November air, and he can see you starting to shake. He hadn’t meant for you to be out here this long- but he should have known you’d both want to talk to each other.

“Ok- and thanks again for the coffee.”

“Any time,” Mark says. And he means it.

18: Sunday - November 9th

The gymnasium smells of sweaty frat boys, and there’s a sickly aroma of booze hanging in the air down by where Lucas and Hendery’s duffle bags sit that makes Mark scrunch up his nose every time he gets close.

He needs to stay near the benches where his bag is- he’s waiting for a text from you. Mark had messaged you just before being forced to join the dodgeball game, and his ears are eagerly waiting to pick up the familiar tweet sound he’d assigned to your contact number- this way, he’ll always know when it’s you messaging him and he can prioritize getting to his phone.

He’d asked you if you wanted to meet up after your midterm- and Mark’s mind is already somersaulting with ideas of ways he could pamper you to congratulate you on your hard work. 

“Get your head in the game,” Jaehyun says next to Mark, dodging a ball thrown by Johnny. The Chicago native and his mini me - Haechan - are always a menace when the frat goes to play dodgeball- but today, they seem to have a personal vendetta against Mark and the soccer team captain.

“What did you do to piss Johnny off?” Mark asks, moving quickly to the left as a ball whizzes past him, followed by a wail of anger from Haechan, who had tossed it. 

“He was fucking his girlfriend in the showers this morning at 6 am, being really loud, so I flushed the left toilet,” Jaehyun smirks. 

Ah, the left toilet: The one toilet in the frat house that, for whatever reason, when flushed, causes all the showers to go cold for a good five seconds. No matter how many plumbers have come to take a look at the frat pipes and hot water tank, no one has ever been able to fix this odd quirk- and frat boys are always more than willing to monopolize on the left toilet.

Mark thinks it might be a little hypocritical of Jaehyun to have punished Johnny for loud sex when Jaehyun’s the one always having angry fuck sessions anywhere he can get his hands on his spitfire girlfriend.

Mark has walked in on Jaehyun on accident more times than he can even count, and not once has he flushed the left toilet, although there’s been many occasions where it would have made things much easier for Mark- luckily, Yuta has been with Mark many times when they’ve stumbled upon Jaehyun, and is usually the one to flush the left toilet.

“What did you do to piss off Haechan?” Jaehyun asks when Mark ducks to dodge a ball thrown directly at his head.

“Skipped the party on Friday to study.”

“Right,” Jaehyun nods, never the type to be hyper aware of his frat brothers being at every party as Haechan is. The soccer team captain usually spends his frat parties with his girlfriend and Yuta, until he’s able to find a way to get his girlfriend away from the clutches of her best friend- the ‘Japanese prince’ can be a bit clingy when he’s drunk, and Jaehyun’s had to take the brunt of it by proxy of his girlfriend. 

“Y/N right?” The way Jaehyun says your name has Mark feeling some kind of way- heat rising in his tummy.

“Yeah.”

“Good for you,” Jaehyun nods, briefly taking his eyes off of Johnny to give Mark a small smile. “It’s good that you’re dating again.”

Mark’s not even sure if he’d call what you have ‘dating’, but then the familiar tweet sound hits his ear from his right side- and his body is lurching into motion to go grab his phone.

He reaches his bag within seconds, eyes scanning the screen of his cell. You’ve agreed to meet after your midterm. Just as Mark’s heart squeezes with delight- something slams into the left side of his face, and Mark goes down.

The last thing he hears is Haechan screaming “head shot!” and after that, Mark’s not so sure.

19: Monday - November 10th

Mark’s just beginning to worry about the ice cream in his hands melting when the doors to your lecture hall open and students begin pouring out. He anxiously flattens himself against the wall, getting out of people’s way while he waits for you.

The past two hours have been torture- knowing you’re in your class, working your little bum off, being tested- he’s been anxious for you. He’s been so anxious, in fact, that he’s even skipped a class just to be here for you when you’re out of yours.

“Y/N!” He calls your name when he sees you, and you whip around to look at him, a massive smile appearing on your face.

Then you’re running- and Mark is opening his arms, forgetting all about the ice cream he’s holding in favour of wrapping you in a tight embrace-

He smashes both ice cream cones directly into your back.

Alarms go off in Mark’s brain as he tries desperately to apologize while you turn your head to try to see what’s just been smeared on both of your shoulders.

“I’m so sorry- oh my god- fuck! I got ice cream all over you-” Mark panics, letting you go as his face twists up in something like anguish while his skin begins to heat to a bright scarlet. He holds the two ruined cones in his hands.

“You got me ice cream?” you ask, turning again to look up at him with big eyes.

“Yeah, but now it’s all over you-”

“But- you got me ice cream,” you repeat, a big smile forming on your face.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your midterm.” Mark frowns, upset that he’d ruined his own plan, and he steps over towards a garbage can, tossing the cones inside. “But instead I wrecked your jacket- here, take my hoodie.”

Mark unslings his backpack quickly, setting it down on the floor by his Nike air forces. He straightens and puts a hand behind his head, grabbing his hoodie at the scuff- like Johnny had taught all the new pledges to do one day two of ‘how to be sexy in bed before your clothes are even completely off’ seminar he ran for every new round of guys during February’s Valentines Day Prep Week (which always ended with the event of the year: Jaehyun’s Valentines/birthday party).

Mark’s hoodie gets caught while he’s pulling it over his head, and he fumbles with it. With his arms raised, he can feel his shirt has ridden up, and cool air passes over the Canadian’s lower abdomen, making him tense at the unexpected temperature even while his neck heats with embarrassment. 

When he’s with you- Mark feels like he can never do anything right. You make him so incredibly nervous at times. 

The Canadian manages to get his hoodie off, and he thrusts it out to you, shyly running a hand through his now tousled hair.

“Thank you- I’ll just run to the bathroom to put this on and clean the ice cream off my jacket with some water. Be right back.” You get on your tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to Mark’s cheek before darting off, and the poor Music Theory Major is left standing there; a blushing mess. 

When you return, hoodie clad, Mark can’t take his eyes off of you. The fabric swallows you up, and the sleeves are much too long, giving you a sweater paw effect that makes Mark want to just scoop you up in his arms and press kisses all over your face in return for the one you’d bestowed upon him five minutes earlier.

Instead, Mark forces his rapidly beating heart to slow down. He swallows thickly, averting his eyes from your form, “I know I ruined the cones I brought- but do you want some ice cream? We could go to this place by the frat- it has really good milkshakes too-”

“That sounds perfect.” 

The two of you head out of the lecture building, and the cool outside immediately makes Mark’s skin pebble with goosebumps. 

“Are you sure you don’t want your hoodie back?” you ask nearly immediately, stepping closer to the Canadian while you walk. “My jacket isn’t that ruined-”

“I’m fine,” Mark says, even as he fights the urge to rub his arms with his hands to create heat friction. 

He hears you scoff, and then you’re grabbing his bicep, latching onto the side of his body and snuggling up, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. 

“I’ll keep your left side warm.”

And his whole entire heart, it seems. 

You walk in a happy silence. Neither of you can stop smiling, and when you come to a stop at a light to wait for cars to pass, you rest your cheek against Mark’s arm. Your left hand reaches across the front of your body to play with his fingers, and when the Canadian gets a chance, he locks you in, giving your digits a squeeze as he flashes you a small, shy smile, that says ‘please don’t let go.’ 

“Do you want to share a milkshake?” Mark asks when you reach the ice cream shop. There’s no line for service, as it is a semi cold and cloudy day. Mark enjoys having you close without so many eyes on him. 

Out on the street there are too many opportunities for people he knows to see him and to come harass him- well, maybe harass isn’t the right word, but Mark wants to focus on you, and any distraction would be an unwelcome one.

You nod, grinning up at Mark before hiding your face against his shoulder again, tucking extra close to his body.

“Should we go for something classic?” Mark questions. “Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry-”

“Cookies and cream,” you say, eyes locked on the board where it notes the flavours of the week. 

“Where’ve you been all my life,” Mark breathes before he can help himself, and then his skin begins to flush with embarrassment.

“Hmm?” You turn to look up at the Canadian, and Mark fumbles over his response.

“I just- cookies and cream is my favourite- and usually I have to bribe friends into getting one with me because the milkshakes here are big- ”

“Your friends don't like cookies and cream?” 

Mark shakes his head.

“Well then you need new friends,” you tell him in a stern voice, but you’re so small and cute and he just wants to pinch your cheeks-

“I do, do I?” Mark grins.

You nod. “But it’s okay, because now you have me.”

“Do I?” More words that Mark would have preferred his lips left unsaid- but he simply can't help himself around you, and he watches the way you become bashful at the question, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Uh huh,” you nod, hiding against his shoulder again.

Mark leaves it at that, and the two of you stand side by side, with massive smiles on your faces, the entire time you wait for your milkshake. 

The plan is to get the drink and head back to your place to study, hopefully making it before the moody clouds decide to make their sadness everyone else's problem- but when the two of you exit the ice cream shop, it becomes clear that you won’t be able to make it to your place before the rain comes.

“Oh no,” Mark says when the first drop of precipitation lands on his nose, then both of you are looking up at the sky. 

“Oh my jesus,” you whisper, having heard Mark say it a number of times and enjoyed the way it sounded from him. 

Mark’s eyes meet your own and his lips part- he’s about to say something when there’s a flash. You both jump from the sudden light, and a moment later a low, thunderous rumble follows- then comes the rain, in full force this time.

“Run!” Mark laughs, lacing his fingers with yours and securing the covered milkshake in his other hand so the two of you can take off in the direction of “the frat! It's the closest!”

You giggle at his antics, allowing the gorgeous boy to hold your hand while the two of you run through the rain to escape the sudden storm. The day is grey, but you’ve never felt so golden and warm, even as water seeps through Mark’s black hoodie, which still enwraps your form in the soft smell of the Canadian boy who’s all but captured your heart.

You’ve been to the frat village once or twice when Yeji has dragged you with her to parties, but the house Mark leads you to is one that’s completely new. 

It’s a large house- more of a ‘complex’ really, with three floors and pitched roofs- and it has a covered wrap around porch at ground level that seems to lead into a half covered cemented seating area. 

“It’s a Monday afternoon, so most of my frat brothers should be in class,” Mark assures you, letting go of your hand when you reach the safety of the sheltered porch area in front of the door leading to the frat.

Mark shakes out his hair, getting rid of some of the water. 

You can’t help but look at the way his shirt is clinging to his body, wet from the rain. He’s toned- much more toned than you’d thought he’d be- but you suppose you’ve mostly seen him covered in warm hoodies- which are thick, if the one weighing down your shoulders is anything to go by. 

The Canadian grabs the front of his shirt and turns away from you, towards the door, while he flaps the fabric back and forth, getting rid of more water.

You try to do the same, but you’re really not that wet - well at least not where it’s noticeable - the hoodie had taken the brunt of the rain-

“You better not be thinking about coming in here while you’re dripping like that.” A stern voice draws you from your thoughts and you tear your eyes away from Mark’s pretty shoulders to see a dark haired man standing in the now open doorway. 

“I-” Mark freezes, as do you- but the good news is, Stern Man isn’t talking to you.

“You know Doyoung hates it when you let things drip all over his floor- Markus.” Comes a sing-song tone that Mark knows well- almost as well as he knows the warm flash of embarrassment that overtakes him.

If there’s one thing Lee Haechan knows how to do- it’s how to get Mark Lee flustered.

“Take it off.” The low, masculine voice belongs to Lucas, and he appears behind Haechan and Doyoung, easily visible towering behind the shorter men, even as he leans a shoulder against the wall. 

Jaehyun had once told Mark he’d been jealous of Lucas (who had dated Jaehyun’s now girlfriend) because of his beauty. At the time, Mark hadn’t really believed it- after all, Jaehyun is one of the most confident guys in the entire frat- and possibly the university.

But standing outside, on the verge of starting to shiver, with the literal love of his life behind him, Mark is not ready to have to face a fluffy haired, muscle shirt and red plaid pajama pant wearing, frat boy god- not when Mark still wants to impress you so badly with his own charms.

“That’s a good idea!” Haechan says gleefully. “Take it off!”

“Come on,” Mark scoffs, finally finding his voice. “You can’t be serious.” 

He takes a step forward- only for Doyoung to throw up an arm, blocking his way in. “I hate to agree with Lucas,” Doyoung states, “but he’s right. Your shirt is too wet. Take it off. And Haechan, hand me Mark’s hoodie from the closet.”

Mark stares at Doyoung, who is known never to back down from anything. 

The Canadian sighs. He can’t believe they’re doing this to him, and with you right there-

“Who’s your friend, Mark?” Lucas asks, peeking up and over Doyoung to look at you. 

“This is Y/N,” Haechan says smoothly, handing the hoodie to Doyoung, who holds it to his chest, making a motion that tells Mark to strip first.

Mark hands you the milkshake and sets his backpack down. He steps forward and grabs the bottom of his shirt. To be fair to Doyoung- it is soaked through, and Mark’s sure that if he was to wring it out- well, he understands Doyoung making him do this.

The music theory major listens to Haechan introducing you to Lucas while Mark quickly tearing his wet shirt off, tossing it onto the ground and grabbing the new hoodie Doyoung extends to him.

Once it’s up and over his head, Mark picks up his backpack and steps forward to enter the frat house. 

“You can both come in now,” Doyoung says, but Mark hardly hears him. He grabs at Doyoung- something he’s never really done before- as he passes by, and the older man’s eyes widen in shock.

“Don’t make her take the hoodie off if she doesn't want to,” Mark says quietly as he steps past, then he raises his voice so Lucas and Haechan can hear him. “Can you guys all give us some space?” The two men are still crowding the front door area, having just had a small conversation with you about studying - or something Mark hadn’t bothered to listen to. 

Someone lets out a whistle- but it’s not one of the men in front of him, and Mark takes two steps further into the frat house, peeking his head around the wall to see the living room.

It's full of frat boys. 

Johnny and Taeil are at the pool table, both have a beer in their hand and Taeyong lines up a shot, then he pauses briefly to look up at Mark- only for his gaze to shift to Doyoung, who goes to join his friend. 

“Hey Mark!” Yuta sits on one end of the couch by the windows, Jaehyun on the other, the Team Captain’s girlfriend tucked into his side with her feet in her best friend’s lap.

“We saw you running through the rain,” the ‘Anime Prince’ grins mischievously, and his best friend pushes him with her foot, earning an even more sinister laugh.

So that’s how Doyoung had known to be at the door. 

“Are you all skipping?!” Mark can’t help but ask, shocked to have just stumbled upon an entire gathering of people when he’d expected the house to be practically empty.

“We all saw the forecast this morning,” Haechan says to Mark.

“And if we're skippers, and you’re here, what does that make you, huh, Mark?” Johnny calls from the pool table, setting one beer down next to a - presumably empty - can on the side of the table before he lines up a shot. 

The Canadian ignores his friend, and instead turns to look at you, flashing a smile and holding out his hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Good idea,” you say immediately. “It was nice meeting you both- and Haechan-”

Mark doesn't wait for formalities, he simply pulls you after him, past the group in the living room. “Everyone, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is everyone. Bye, everyone.” Mark says quickly.

“Mark!” Yuta whines loudly but Mark is already opening a door to the stairwell that will take you up to the second floor while calling out “dibs on our room” - although Mark’s not sure he trusts Yuta, his roommate, to take his ‘dibs’ seriously.  

The frazzled Canadian leads you to his room and mutters a “thank god” when he finds it empty. He’d half expected Jungwoo to be waiting here for him like some final boss from a video game- and Mark has returned home before to find the big, cat-like frat boy stretched across his bed and in need of ‘Markie cuddles’.

“Sorry about them,” the soft, frazzled blonde says when you’re inside and he’s able to close the door, making sure to lock it. 

“We probably should have guessed that on a rainy forecasted day, a lot of people would be skipping classes- and you do live in a frat house,” you respond softly, setting the milkshake you'd been holding since the shirt ordeal onto his desk by the window before moving to take off the soaked hoodie that’s still covering your body. “But I like your room. And Mark?”

“Yeah?” His heart stops a little in his chest and he leans back against the door, which he just now wishes was ten times thicker. He watches you pull off his hoodie, revealing the shirt you have on underneath. 

“I like your friends.”

“You do?”

You nod, looking around the room. 

Mark jumps into action, coming to stand next to you. “So this side of the room is mine,” he tells you, motioning with a hand to the bed on his right. 

The Canadian keeps his things in a generally tidy order, and his walls are decorated with record album artwork and two guitars hanging one on hooks.

It’s the guitars that you gravitate towards, and before Mark can anticipate it- you’re turning to look at him with excited eyes. “Can you play me a song?”

“Hmm?” Mark lets out a dismayed sound.

“A song,” you repeat. “You told me you’d learn one for me.”

Mark swallows thickly. He had told you he’d work on something to be able to show you- and the Canadian music theory major searches deep into the corners of his mind for ideas. 

He thinks about his friends downstairs - and how they might be able to hear Mark if he decides to whip out the guitar and give you an impromptu concert - but one look into your pretty eyes has him folding, bending over backwards like a frail leaf to accommodate your needs and wants.

“I guess, there’s one song I can play for you,” Mark says, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck shyly. 

“Really?” you beam.

“Yeah.” Mark swallows thickly, mustering up his courage as he reaches for his guitar, pulling it from the wall. “But I might be a bit rusty,” he warns you, settling down on his bed with the instrument held deftly in his experienced hands.

“I’m sure you’ll be great,” you assure the pretty boy, mirroring him and sitting, your whole body facing the musician, whose knee you accidentally bump with your own in an effort to get closer. 

The Canadian takes a deep breath, and then his hands begin to move, fingers strumming the strings to create a pretty tune. “It’s uh, I’m Yours, by Jason Mraz,” Mark tells you, head dipping so his blonde hair half obscures his face while he watches his fingers move on the guitar.

You notice the way his skin has turned a pretty shade of pink, a colour you’ve come to love on him due to how often he’s blushing. He’s so shy- and it makes you want to shower him with compliments- especially when he opens his mouth to begin singing, and one of the prettiest voices you’ve ever heard fills the room.

Mark gets through the first verse seamlessly, but when he reaches the chorus, the Canadian sneaks a glance up at you. That’s when he begins to fumble- breaking at the weight of your attention on his shoulders. 

He forces his eyes away from you, trying to still his rapidly beating heart while singing and keeping his fingers playing the right chords- it’s one of the most difficult things Mark Lee has ever done- and he’s taught himself not one, not two- but four of the most difficult guitar picking songs to play in the world- so Mark knows musical pressure.

But he’s never known musical pressure like this.

Because suddenly, every word leaving his lips is a word he truly means- or at least, Mark aspires to be the kind of guy spoken about in the lyrics who reaches out for the things he wants, with no hesitation. 

Mark’s not sure how he does it, but he makes his way through the song, reaching the outro and finishing on the line “I’m yours” as his fingers come to a stop on the strings. 

You burst into applause nearly the moment Mark is finished his song, and the Canadian is shocked by the way you practically launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him despite the guitar getting between your bodies. “That was so good!” you squeal into his ear.

Mark is quick to shift the instrument out of where it’s uncomfortably caught. This gives him the ability to pull you to his chest completely, and the Canadian falls back against his bed, taking you with him. 

The two of you land in a fit of giggles and smiles, both of you adjusting for the new position that has you half lying on his chest. “You’re such a good singer,” You tell him, face nuzzled against his neck.

Your breath tickles his skin, and Mark’s cheeks are hurting from how much he smiles when he’s around you. 

Your fingers reach to play with the fabric of his hoodie by Mark’s shoulder, and Mark turns his head, looking down at you. 

Your eyes are so pretty- Mark could get lost in them, in fact, he thinks maybe he already has.

He watches the way your gaze darts down to his lips- and Mark thinks: ‘Fuck it. No hesitation.’

His fingers find the bottom of your chin, and he gently prompts you to raise your face just slightly, even as he dips down to press his lips to yours.

You kiss him back, matching the softness, and your fingers pull more on the fabric of his hoodie, helping you shift to be closer to the pretty Music Theory Major. 

“Mark-” you breathe a sigh of happiness against his lips, not knowing what you want, but knowing you want more- whatever that entails. 

‘No hesitation’, Mark reminds himself, doing his best to read both your verbal and non verbal cues. He wraps his arms around you and gently prompts you to roll, moving the both of you until he’s settled between your legs, and your back is pressed against his bed while the Canadian hovers over you, holding himself up with an elbow by your head while his lips move softly against your own.  

Your fingers find his hair, and when you tug on the pretty strands, Mark lets out a small groan that goes straight to your core. 

He’s so unbelievably sexy- in this ‘I have no idea how fucking handsome I am’ kind of way. 

Maybe he’s just Canadian- you’re not sure.

You tug at Mark’s hoodie, and he pulls away from your lips. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks you, hands playing with the hood strings, pulling this way and that while he looks down at you, hair tousled. 

You nod, eager to see his toned torso again after having been teased with it not once, but twice today. 

With his hoodie discarded, Mark’s able to feel the draft coming from the open window. The cool stream of air that flows through the small space brings the aroma of rain and the repetitive pattering sound of heavy water hitting the sidewalk just outside the frat. 

The coolness of the air reminds Mark of the warmth of you, and he’s quick to find his way back into your embrace again, his lips meeting yours with a new fervour. Your hands explore the bare expanse of his shoulders, fingers digging into his muscle and earning another groan of pleasure from the Canadian.

One of his hands grabs at the pillow by your head, and Mark fights the urge to rut against you, his cock pressing hard against the front of his jeans. 

Mark’s never been the type to be upset about his ‘frat boy labido’, but right now, it’s getting in the way of him wanting to worship you. He wants to take his time- wants to kiss every inch of your pretty skin- he wants to taste-

The Canadian groans again, tearing his lips from yours in favour of going after your neck. He’s sure he can find some sweet spots there- can elicit some pretty sounds that will distract him from his own growing need. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, heart clenching in his chest at how it feels to verbally worship you- on top of the physical ways he’s already attempting to show how much he cares.

A soft whimper leaves your lips and you tangle your fingers in Mark’s hair, egging him on to continue. “So soft,” his voice comes out hoarse and he presses more kisses against the column of your throat, enjoying the way you arch your neck to give him the most space possible. 

Mark swallows thickly, his kisses continuing downward. He gently moves the fabric of your shirt with two fingers, exposing your collar bone, which he peppers in tiny kisses. 

“Mark-” 

Hearing his name makes Mark look up at you with concern- only for him to find you with your bottom lip half pulled between your teeth, eyes heavy lidded- looking as sexy as you ever have. 

The music theory major all but lunges back up at you, capturing your mouth with his own as one hand goes to cup the side of your face, his thumb under your jaw, directing you where he wants you to be as his tongue slips past your lips-

A sudden screeching sound makes both you and Mark jump, your fingers digging into his shoulders while the two of you whip around to look at his door- which is, thankfully, still closed. 

The scream had sounded suspiciously like Haechan- but Mark’s been living with his friend long enough to be able to tell that the noise hadn’t been loud enough to have been too close. 

“Let me put on some music,” Mark says, pushing off of you so he can sit on his knees, hand digging into his pocket for his phone. While his eyes scan the screen for a playlist, he notices your legs on either side of his waist, now bent at the knee, your feet flat on the bed. Mark allows the fingers on his free hand to gently brush your skin, trailing them up and down your thigh while he connects his phone to the bluetooth speakers.

“And the door is locked,” Mark tells you as soft music fills the room. He tosses his phone onto his hoodie, which is resting on the floor where he’d discarded it. “They’re a little loud- but uh, they shouldn’t try to come barging in or anything.”

“Okay,” you breathe, looking up at him with shy eyes.

Mark can hardly meet your gaze either, and instead he focuses on watching his finger trail up and down your leg, testing the denim of your pants. “Can I-”

“Yes.” 

“You don’t even know what I'm going to ask,” Mark grins, peeking up at you somewhat bashfully.

“That’s okay,” you assure him, also smiling a small happy shy smile that tells Mark you’re in this together. 

Often with girls, Mark finds himself in power imbalances. Most of the time, the girl likes him much more than he likes her- which is why he’s not a one night stand kind of guy anymore - but with you, he knows you like each other a similar amount.

Or at least, he hopes you like him in a similar way to the amount he likes you- and if you don’t, well, if he treats you like a goddess, you will soon- right?

“Kiss?” You reach for him and Mark realizes he has to stop being so in his head, or he’ll risk missing opportunities with you.

He supposes he can pull your pants down - like he’d intended to do - later, because right now, all Mark wants to do is get lost in your lips- and your touches; your fingers trailing up and down his skin.

Mark kisses you like his life depends on it, and the gentle music playing from the speakers provides a comfort sound blanket that makes Mark feel confident he’s the only one able to hear your soft, pretty sounds of pleasure. 

“I need-” You whimper when Mark’s kisses move to your jaw again, lips freed, and Mark is more than ready to hear exactly what you’d like him to do to you. 

But when you let out a small whine, pulling Mark’s face back up to your own so you can hide against his neck- Mark realizes you might need a little help verbalizing what it is that you want. 

“What do you need, pretty girl?” Mark asks, his voice coming out huskier than he’d intended, and his hips shudder at the sound of his own words - which had come out much more confident than Mark was even intending them to - causing friction, and sending electric shocks of pleasure skittering up Mark’s body.

“You,” your whimpery voice makes Mark groan, fist grabbing at the pillow again.

He can no longer help himself- especially if you’re going to be responding to him like this. 

His hips rut against you, causing a delicious friction that makes you both moan, lips clashing and muffling the sounds. Your lips are like cookies and cream, Mark’s favourite, and he can only imagine how the rest of you is going to taste, and feel, against his tongue.

It takes everything Mark has to pull away from you, but he quickly shuffles down the bed, hands finding the waistband of your jeans and following it to the button, which he undoes. 

His gaze shifts up to you, scanning your expression to make sure you’re alright with this. You even lift your hips to help Mark with the process, and he tugs your pants down, eager to get them off.

“Shirt?” Mark asks as he settles on the bed, laying down flat and positioning one of your legs over his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, breathing in the smell of you. 

Your core is covered in a pretty pair of blue underwear, Mark’s favourite colour, and a wet patch is showing- 

‘Did I do that?’ Mark wonders, eyes moving up to watch as you take your shirt off, following through with his earlier request.

Your bra is also a pretty blue- matching to your underwear, and Mark briefly remembers what Jaehyun had told him one time at a Frat retreat in Sweden: ‘if you take the girls clothes off and she’s in a matching set, you’re not getting lucky, she planned the whole thing’. 

He wonders if you planned on getting caught in the rain- only to remember that showing up outside your lecture hall after your midterm was more of his idea than yours. 

He has no clue that you’ve been wearing sets for the past week with the hopes that maybe Mark would go a bit further than just kissing you- and it’s beginning to look more and more like today’s going to be the day.

“You’re so pretty,” Mark coos, his lips teasing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs again- causing a shudder to run through your body.

“No you,” you state.

Mark’s ears turn red, and he rubs his face against your thigh, fingers gripping your legs as he adjusts them on his shoulders. 

“And I like your hair like this,” you continue, enjoying the effect your words seem to have on the soft music theory major between your thighs. You reach a hand out, fingers threading through his golden locks. You’d enjoyed his natural dark hair- but you have to admit, this blonde makes Mark even more ethereal- if that’s possible.

“Stop,” Mark groans, his teeth nipping at your skin only for his lips to sooth the spot a moment later.

His voice lacks conviction.

“And has anyone ever told you-” you let out a sigh, stopping momentarily to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation of his breath fanning across your covered core, “that you’re an amazing kisser?”

Now Mark groans, fingers digging into your thighs and dragging you down to his face. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask permission - although, you’ve already told him he can do whatever he wants with you - he simply presses his mouth to your core, tongue pushing at blue fabric.

You mewl, pulling at The Canadian’s soft hair. “Mark-”

He adjusts, two fingers grabbing one side of your underwear and pulling them to the side.

This time, when his mouth finds you, there’s nothing in his way.

You hold your breath, attention fixed on Mark as he drags his tongue the length of your entrance, stopping to swirl his wet muscle around your clit. Your legs shake on either side of his head at the gentle caress- and your fingers flex in his hair, a gasp leaving your lips as you relax into his bed.

While he holds your underwear to the side with his right hand, his left palm begins to smooth up and down the top of your thigh, keeping it over his shoulder, and providing a repetitive comforting motion that has your skin breaking out in excited goosebumps. 

His tongue prods your hole, pushing in and earning a whimper that escapes your chest before you’re able to stop it. “Mark-” you moan again, tightening your grip in his hair, your lower body wiggling as you attempt to grind down against his face- nothing has ever felt this good. 

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and you sneak a glance down at the music theory major. His eyes meet yours, and you feel your skin erupt in heat, embarrassment flooding your body. 

“So pretty,” Mark reminds you, pulling away from your core to press a kiss to your inner thigh again. His left hand leaves your leg, fingers gently brushing over the swell of your breast, “can I-”

You cover his hand with your own, guiding him to apply some pressure, and a small whine leaves your lips at the feeling. You let go of Mark, but his hand stays where it is, giving its own testing squeeze as his tongue returns to your core with new vigour. 

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to an orgasm with each lap of the singer’s tongue, and when he moves his mouth up slightly, suctioning his lips around your clit- you know you won't be able to hold on much longer.

Words feel to be too difficult for your lust hazed mind, and the most you can do is hold onto Mark’s hair as an anchor and whisper his name over and over until his tongue is dragging you over the edge and you’re enwrapped in a euphoric warmth as your orgasm washes over you in waves of golden light. 

The soft Canadian boy stays between your legs, licking you through your high.

His hand moves from your breast in favour of locking his fingers with yours, giving you a gentle squeeze when he feels you’re finally coming down. Mark looks up at you in wonder, wanting to take it all in. You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen- and watching you come undone on his tongue had been the highlight of his entire university experience- maybe even his whole life.

He presses a kiss to your clit and your legs shiver, attempting to close on either side of his head. Mark can’t help but smile, sneaking a glance up at you again. “No more?” he asks, eager to make you cum for him again.... And again, and again, and again-

“I want-” Your free hand reaches down for Mark and the Canadian releases your underwear, letting them move back into place while he rises to meet you-

There’s a loud banging at the door that makes both you and Mark practically jump out of your skin, followed by Yuta’s loud voice calling: “I at least need my laptop so I can study downstairs if you guys are in the room!”

Mark is quick to jump into motion, grabbing your jeans and shirt off the floor and tossing them at you before reaching for his own hoodie. “One second!” he screams at the door, pulling the fabric to cover his bare torso. The Canadian tugs at the hem, turning away from you to adjust his cock - which is pressing almost painfully against the denim of his jeans - and he makes sure it’s not noticeable. 

Then Mark grabs Yuta’s laptop, turning to make sure you’re dressed before he heads to the door to open it a few inches, all but thrusting the laptop out and into Yuta’s arms. “Here,” Mark says, closing the door just as quickly as he’d opened it.

The music theory major locks the door again before leaning back against it, eyes finding you on his bed. “Sorry.”

You shake your head, releasing Mark of any anxiety he has over having just been interrupted. You still have your lip caught between your teeth, and you look so incredibly sexy- eyes half lidded, chest rising and falling with each breath-

“I think-” You fidget with the long sleeves of your sweater. “I think Yeji should be in class- if it’s a bit too crowded here, we could get umbrellas and walk to my place-”

“Good idea.” Mark is nodding and heading to his closet before you’re even done your sentence, and a moment later he produces two umbrellas and a rain jacket, which he holds out for you.

“Don’t you need this jacket?” you ask.

Mark shakes his head, “I don't care about getting rain on me- but I don't want you to get wet.”

The moment the words leave his lips, Mark’s skin flushes a pretty pink colour that has you both shyly hiding your faces. “Let’s go.” Mark picks up his backpack and you do the same, then he reaches for your hand and the two of you leave his room, milkshake long forgotten- after all, Mark has his eyes set on something much sweeter. 

                                                           ***

“You heard what?!” Haechan is on his feet in an instant, only to be tugged back to the couch by Johnny, who attempts to smooth this whole thing over.

“I’m sure you were just hearing the music.” 

“It was definitely not the music,” Yuta says, taking his seat next to Jaehyun with his laptop out. “Mark is up there doing something with that girl and we all know it.”

Taeyong sighs, gaze drifting to the stairwell. “We don’t know-”

“The kid serenaded her!” Yuta whisper screams, conscientious of anyone eavesdropping on the impromptu gossip session that had sprung out of his own eavesdropping. “We all know-”

“I’m going up there,” Haechan announces, trying to stand again, only to be roughly tugged down for a third time by Johnny.

“You’re going to stay down here and give Mark some space,” Johnny says, looking his friend dead in the eyes.

“But Johnny!”

“No buts.”

“But Mark and his mommy milkers!” Haechan wails, closing his eyes and throwing himself down into the couch like a tantruming child.

“Oh my Jesus.” A soft whisper, and it draws all eyes.

Mark is standing by the stairwell, you right behind him, and he’s staring at Haechan while his skin turns a beautiful scarlet red colour. 

“Mark!” Haechan squawks, everyone realizing at the same time that you’d just heard Haechan state ‘Mark and his mommy milkers’ with the most confident tone ever- “we were definitely not talking about your mommy milkers kink-” 

Johnny grabs Haechan by the neck and all but throws him onto the couch, before covering the smaller man with his entire body,  squishing Haechan down into the fabric.

“We weren't talking about that at all,” Johnny says, lurching a little as he squashes Haechan harder.

“Because- because Mark doesn’t have a mommy kink,” Doyoung tries to be helpful from the kitchen, where he and Taeyong are standing, each with a glass of wine, and a mortified look on their faces.

“He just likes sucking on tiddies!” comes another ‘helpful’ tone, this time from under Johnny, and the big man purposefully jumps more, squishing Haechan further into the couch, earning a pained whining sound.

“We’re heading out,” Mark says, skin still bright red as he drags you through the space to the door.

The entire room of boys watches Mark run away. 

It's only when Yuta looks out the window and is sure Mark is half way across the field in front of the frat that the anime prince says, “Good for him.”

And everyone, even Haechan - who is still being pinned down and tickled as punishment from Johnny - agrees.

                                                           ***

“Haechan’s just like that- not that I don’t enjoy- uh, boobs, but Haechan-” Mark has been trying to apologize for his friends behaviour the entire walk home, and you think it’s adorable how flustered he gets.

You squeeze his hand. “It’s okay.”

“The whole mommy thing is really more of a Haechan kink-” Mark continues, and you laugh, enjoying the way he rambles when he’s nervous.

You’re interested in Mark’s kinks, and hearing him discuss kinks in a general sense is making you wet again- even though Mark’s brought you an umbrella.

You’d been so close to having him- so close to wrapping him in your arms and inviting him inside- 

But you’d been interrupted, and now, your feet carry you quickly towards your apartment, energized by the notion of what is to come.

You reach the door to your home, heart lurching with excitement, and just as you’re about to go to unlock the door, it’s thrown open and you’re met with the visual of your roommate all but climbing Jeno, their lips (and tongues) locked in a battle that looks as fierce as ever.

“I have to go-” Jeno groans.

Neither he nor Yeji have noticed you and Mark standing right in front of them. 

You and Mark are frozen where you stand- both too polite to say anything, and too shocked. But then Mark drops his umbrella, the sound makes both Yeji and Jeno break their kiss, two steely gazes landing on the soft people at the door.

“Oh-” Yeji jumps away from Jeno, “you’re home.”

“You’re home,” you counter, looking at your roommate quizzically. 

“Everyone skips on rainy days,” Yeji brushes it off, reaching out and grabbing your hand, “and now we can bake cookies! Girls day! Thanks for dropping her off Mark! And for picking up this loser-” She pushes at Jeno’s back and he steps forward, into the hallway to join Mark.

Then Jeno turns, grabbing Yeji’s hand, tugging roughly and pulling her to his lips for one final kiss. “Don’t pretend you don’t love me,” he says darkly, holding her gaze.

“You’re still a loser,” Yeji states, pressing a peck to Jeno’s nose before returning to the warmth of her apartment. “Bye you two.”

Everything happens fast with Yeji, and it leaves you and Mark scrambling.

You want to invite Mark in- but Yeji wants a girls day- and Mark wants to invite himself in- but Yeji wants a girls day- neither of you have the heart to deny her of this, especially since the idea of ‘girls day’ is making her so bright and bubbly.

You both push your needs to the side.

“Thanks for walking me home Mark.” You smile softly.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” The Canadian shoves his hands in his pockets, “I'll see you at the library tomorrow?” 

You nod, and just as Mark thinks that's the end of things, you step out of your apartment and press a quick kiss to his lips that leaves the music theory major breathless. “Bye Mark,” you say again.

Then the door is closing, leaving Mark and Jeno standing in the hallway outside.

Jeno picks up the umbrella Mark had dropped earlier, swinging it as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “So, Mark,” Jeno sighs,  heading off towards the elevators, “I heard in the group chat that you serenaded Y/N today? That’s embarrassing.”

20: Tuesday  - November 11th

Mark doesn’t mind holding your hand under the table while the two of you study. You both know that if you were to do this openly, Jungwoo would probably never let you hear the end of it. But after two hours of pretending to be just friends - ‘Because lets be real,’ Mark thinks to himself, ‘we’re way past that now’ - the Canadian is beginning to tire of not showering you in blatant adoration- and possibly kisses.

“You hungry?” Mark asks, ignoring the food monster sitting right in front of him who says “I am!” 

“A little,” you respond, mirroring Mark by turning to face him. “What were you thinking?”

“Vending machine?” Jungwoo says louder still.

“Maybe the canteen area?” Mark suggests. “They also have hot chocolate- tea-”

“Sounds nice,” you nod.

“Want to come grab it with me?” Mark asks.

You nod again, grinning at Mark.

“Get me a sandwich!” Jungwoo whines, having picked up on the little ‘game’ Mark’s playing. It’s obvious to Jungwoo that he’s not invited on your exciting canteen adventure, but he’ll be damned if he doesn't at least get a sandwich out of it. 

You and Mark are quick to head to the cafe on the main floor, and when you get to the small lineup, Mark finally steps closer to you, his shoulder gently touching your own. “How was girl’s day yesterday?” he asks.

“Fine.” You loop your hands through Mark’s arm, resting your head on his shoulder. “I'm sorry about that, by the way. I wanted to invite you in-”

“It’s okay, I have pushy roommates too, remember?” You can hear Mark smiling even though you’re looking at the specials board, and you squeeze his arm, rubbing your face against the warm fabric of his hoodie.

“What are you up to tomorrow?” Mark asks, knowing he has a bit of time in his schedule to see you if you’re not busy.

“I think Yeji signed us all up for hot yoga or something-” you respond, “then she said something about takeout and movies, so probably another girls day.”

“Wow, two in one week,” Mark says in shock.

“She says you’re stealing me away from her, so she has to call dibs on my time more,” you sigh, grinning.

“Well what are you doing on Thursday?” Mark asks.

You look up at him, smiling softly. “You tell me.”

21: Wednesday - November 12

“Can you believe they make us do two hikes? During rainy season!?” Haechan screams over his shoulder at Mark, who is substantially lower down on the muddy ridge they’re attempting to climb.

“This isn’t really a hike,” Mark mutters, but he knows Haechan doesn’t hear him, already pushing on up the trail. Sometimes, the Canadian wonders why he even accompanies Haechan on these trips- it’s not like Haechan went with Mark when he did this class in first year. “And you do three hikes in total, actually,” Mark calls, “which means you have one more.”

“What!?” ( @ 2:36) 

“One more,” Mark repeats, catching up to the man who has come to a complete stop in the middle of the trail.

“No!” Haechan stomps his foot and Mark narrowly misses being splashed with muddy water that has been accumulating into puddles on the path. “At least you’re coming to the party on Friday- right Mark?”

The Canadian’s hands find the strings of his hood, and he toys them one way, then the other. “Uh-”

“Mark!” The whiney voice makes Mark groan.

“I’ll see if y/n wants to come- but I was kind of thinking of going to her place-”

“To do what? Not get laid again?!” Haechan scoffs.

Mark can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

He’s enjoyed keeping you a secret. 

When he’d returned to the frat on Monday with Jeno, after being cockblocked by Yeji, the whole living room had interrogated Mark for details based off of Yuta’s claim he had ‘heard something’. 

Mark had been able to downplay everything.

And he’d been truthful. He hadn’t fucked you.

Everyone had teased him, and he’d taken it all, knowing that it was just a matter of time.

“Mark.” A hand grabs at the Canadian’s shoulder and his best friend stops him in his tracks. “You told us you didn’t fuck her.”

“I didn’t,” Mark says. “I haven't.”

“So why are you smiling like that-” Haechan pushes at Mark’s chest roughly, only to grip the front of his jacket and pull him close, “huh?” 

Mark shrugs, unable to help the grin on his face. He doesn't even care that Haechan’s jostling has pushed his hood down - the rain had once been something Mark didn’t really enjoy, but now, he didn’t mind it so much.

Not since some of his best moments with you had been helped along by the clouds.

“Invite her to the party, and if you don’t like it, you guys can leave- but come on!” Haechan groans. “We have the fire pit going and Yuta only knows so many songs he can play on the guitar that don’t get him immediately laid and no longer our musical entertainment.” 

“Fine. I’ll come for a bit, even if I go to her place after.”

“Deal.” 

22: Thursday - November 13th

“What are you thinking?” you ask, sneaking a glance up at Mark.

He’s sitting across from you and the two of you have snagged a seat closest to the windows in the library- a little away from where you normally sit, but the two of you have been trying to escape Jungwoo-

“I wish it had rained today,” he sighs, still looking out at the clouds. “The forecast said it might.”

“And why is that?” you smile, although you think you might already know the answer.

Now Mark looks at you. “There’s a frat party tomorrow- my friends would like to see you there, Haechan in particular. And I would too- it could be fun.”

You nod. “Yeji mentioned it. I’d love to come.” 

Mark breaks into the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen, and he reaches across the table to grab your hand, lacing your fingers.

“Also, about the rain- even though it’s not on forecast, I would have invited you to study at my place- but Yeji is cramming for a midterm tomorrow, and it’s best not to be in the apartment when she’s like this.”

“Oh.” Mark’s heart heaves in his chest and you squeeze his hand gently. “Well, tomorrow- if you come to the party with Yeji- she’ll probably stay much longer-”

“There you two are!” 

It’s the worst possible person to ruin the moment, Kim Jungwoo. And if you weren’t there, Mark swears to god he’d-

“Jungwoo! We couldn’t find you earlier!” you say, releasing Mark’s hand. He’s shocked by how flawlessly you can pretend the two of you haven’t been hiding from Jungwoo-

“I got lost trying to find the cafe,” Jungwoo explains, taking a seat next to you. “But,” he puts a sandwich down on the table, “as you can see, I found it.”

The two of you should have known not to get a seat near any location with food.

23: Friday - November 14th

“This is going to sound crazy-” Jungwoo says, his words sloshing together while his drink, well, sloshes around in his cup. His arm is thrown around Mark’s shoulders while your class project partner leans in to talk to you. “Haechan’s a fucking wizard.”

“Okay!” Mark exclaims loudly, pushing his friend up by the chest so he’s at a more normal himbo light tour level. “You need to sit down somewhere.”

“He just needs water.” Haechan slides under Jungwoo’s other arm, a cup in hand, and the man with white blonde hair grabs it, sipping on the straw. 

“A wizard,” Jungwoo repeats obnoxiously after a few gulps.

“Tell us what happened,” Mark sighs, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to his side to make room in the narrow second floor hallway as Renjun runs by with- wait, was that the tattoo gun Doyoung confiscated?-

“Last Friday it was forecasted for 100% rain, but I did the rain dance, and then by the time our party came, the rain had stopped!” 

“Poof!” Jungwoo motions with his hands.

“And the time before that-”

“How many times in a row has it happened, Wizard.” Johnny comes up behind Haechan, and Mark’s glad he’s finally intervening. 

“Five times,” Haechan announces, holding a hand out to show all of his fingers proudly.

“Sure- anyways,” Johnny turns to Mark, “we’re going outside for the fire pit, are you two coming?”

The Canadian looks down at you and you nod, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, we’ll head out,” Mark agrees, “but we’re going to go grab jackets first.”

“I’ll save you a seat,” Johnny promises. “Nice meeting you again.” 

“You too,” you smile as the tall man passes you and heads down to the first level, where the frat party is already in full swing. 

“Did you guys bring Yeji?” You turn to see Jeno poking his head out of his room. Even though he’s Yeji’s part time boytoy and part time boyfriend, you can appreciate how pretty Lee Jeno is. His hair is wet, like he’s fresh from the shower, and he’s just buttoning up his shirt. 

“You weren’t waiting at the door when they arrived, so she said something about finding another guy,” Haechan states - a lie, in part. Haechan had let you all in, and Yeji had been disappointed in Jeno for not being there waiting for her- so she’d gone to join some sorority girl friends.

But, Yeji is one of the most gorgeous girls on campus- and she’s in a frat house, with a boytoy who never commits and lays a claim-

Sometimes you worry about Jeno. 

You hope he doesn’t lose her. 

Jeno darts off, Haechan and Jungwoo go down to the fire, and soon you’re in Mark’s room getting your pick of his hoodies.

 “Which one do you think I should wear?” you sigh, running your hand across the fabrics. 

“This one.” And then Mark is pulling the hem of his oversized hoodie over you, his other hand spinning you so you can face his chest, the hoodie cocooning you both in warmth as Mark presses his lips to yours. 

In the heat of the kiss, you find yourself remembering something Yeji had told you at a sorority girl sleepover one summer: grab a guy by his belt and pull him closer if you think you have the upper hand in any way - which, ‘you all do,’ she’d noted ‘because you’re hot girls, and men are god damned lucky’.

Your fingers grab at Mark’s belt and the Canadian shivers, looking down as you try to pull him closer as confidently as you can. 

Mark chuckles, watching your attempt. Then his eyes find yours.

He’s still holding the hoodie up with one hand, but the other is on the small of your back, drawing you in-

“Get a door, Mark!” Someone screams.

Mark groans- but then his brows furrow. “Wait, what?!” 

He tears the hoodie off you both, looking towards the entrance to his room, where, low and behold: the door is now missing. 

“Door stealing?” you ask, reaching for one of the extra hoodies to pull it on now that the moment has been ruined.

“It’s something we do sometimes in the frat-” Mark tries to explain, “but uh, we generally do it when someone is going to get laid and the house wants to make it harder on them to find a private place-”

“Good thing we don’t have to worry about that,” you say, lacing your fingers with Mark’s, “because we have my place too.”

Mark’s struck by the use of ‘we’ in your sentence- and he wonders if you’ve referred to the two of you as ‘we’ before- he wonders when you become a ‘we’, a unit, and he thinks about it the entire walk down to the fire pit.

“Mark!” Haechan leads the chorus of screams that welcomes the Canadian, and room is made between Johnny and Jungwoo for the two of you to sit. 

The music theory major finds himself overwhelmed within moments, with two pretty sorority girls cozying up next to Johnny to gain access to Mark, and innumerable people asking ‘where the hell have you been for the past few parties?’

You watch the frazzled Canadian attempt to make pleasantries with people- even as Haechan thrusts a guitar into his hands. 

It’s interesting to see Mark like this- in this setting. 

He’s obviously a popular guy, and you’ve always known as much, but seeing him be fawned over by men and women alike- seeing him be the center of attention- you’re not sure you expected this from the seemingly shy, bashful, soft boy you’ve come to know.

“Is he going to play one of your songs?” Jungwoo asks, nudging your shoulder as he invades your space, the scent of booze washing over your senses as his breath teases your ear.

“One of my songs?” You turn to look at your part time class project partner, part time friend.

“Yeah.” Jungwoo nods earnestly. “The songs about you.” He boops your nose and your heart lurches in your chest.

“Songs plural?” 

Jungwoo nods again, a massive grin spreading across his face while he grabs your jaw with one large hand, leaning in to whisper almost secretively; “that kid loves you.”

“Jungwoo.” Someone jostles your friend’s back, and you look up to see the ‘anime prince’ taking a seat on Jungwoo’s other side. “Stop spilling all of Mark’s secrets before he’s even played us a song, or he’s going to ditch again.”

As if on cue, the guitar sounds behind you, and you turn to follow it, putting Jungwoo’s words on the back burner of your brain so you can focus on Mark.

“What song should I play?” Mark asks the group, fingers moving gingerly across the chords as he plays around, a testament to his skill. 

“A love song,” A pretty brunette says from across the fire, and you note how she leans in to catch Mark’s eye, sitting forward and showing off the low cut of her top even while her jacket is wrapped around her body- as is the arm of one of the younger frat boys.

You have an instant dislike for her… and the googly eyes she’s making at Mark.

A few more back and forths lead to Haechan choosing a song, and soon, Mark’s voice is drawing even more people to crowd around the fire pit. 

The first song ends and everyone erupts in applause, turning the man who had been so confident while singing- back into your soft, shy boy. 

“Play a rap song!” Someone bellows, and you turn to see a massive, shirtless man with a dragon tattoo on his back get shoved by a pretty girl next to him while he laughs- 

He’s the pretty one you met when you and Mark were chased to the frat by the rainstorm- Lucas, you think? - and from the way everyone around you laughs at his suggestion - and the way he grabs the girl who’d scoffed loudest and kisses her - that this might be a semi common occurrence here.

“Play Wonderwall,” One of the older guys suggests, and a moment later, Mark is following through, with most of the crowd joining in to sing.

Mark bobs his head while he plays, his foot tapping, voice ringing clear and steady. His tone stays angelic, even when his friends try to derail the song with adlibs and loud belted notes. 

You notice Mark’s ears turning red even in the dim light of the fire as he comes to the repetitive conclusion of the song. 

“You’re gonna be the one that saves me,” he sings, with the crowd echoing Mark while he plays it out. 

When he’s done, his hand finds your thigh, and you grab at his arm, tucking into his side like you’ve become used to doing. 

Mark turns his head so he can talk in your ear as people discuss the next song. “It’s so weird singing in front of people after taking a few weeks off,” Mark says.

“I didn’t realize I was depriving your party of its entertainment,” you grin up at him. “You were so good!”

Mark looks down at you. He wants to tell you that what was really weird was singing a love song in front of you but not to you. But before he can, Haechan is announcing the next music choice, and Mark is once again lifting his guitar to play.

“Two more songs,” he tells you. “Then we can leave- if you still want to.”

The slight nod you give him is enough to keep Mark energized the rest of his small ‘set’. 

                                                      ***

“Can you believe it?” you ask after stripping out of the wet hoodie. You’re near your window now, looking out at the downpour. “The sky was fine- then all of the sudden the rain-”

You turn to talk to Mark, only to find yourself chest to chest with the Canadian, and his hands grab your waist to settle you. 

Any thoughts or opinions you'd had on the weather dissipate from your mind as you look up at Mark. 

“Thanks for coming to the party with me,” he says softly, one hand moving to cup your face, tilting you up even more.

You can’t help yourself, throwing your arms around the back of Mark’s neck while lurching on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

He tastes like the beer Haechan made him take for the walk back to your place, and it doesn’t fit the soft Mark aesthetic at all- 

Mark bumps into something and the two of you fall, the Canadian landing on your couch with you on top of him, your knees on either side of his waist.

You’ve stopped kissing in shock of falling, and now you find yourself giggling at Mark’s clumsiness. “Can I tell you something?” you ask.

“Yes please.” Mark’s hands find your waist and he gently adjusts the way you’re sitting, prompting you to grab at his shoulders, steadying yourself to get comfortable. 

“Would you find it weird if I told you I was a little jealous tonight?” The moment the words leave your lips you want to hide, and instead you grab Mark’s cute lil face and cover his eyes. “Don't look at me.” 

Mark laughs. “You?! Jealous of me?”

“Well I was jealous of those girls at the fire pit. They were all flirting with you-”

“They were not.”

“Mark Lee! They were!” you insist. 

Mark pushes your hands away from his eyes, looking up at you. One of his arms wraps around the small of your back and he adjusts you, leaning up to kiss the underside of your jaw. “I didn't notice. All I noticed all night was you.”

“Really?”

“I’m kind of shocked you’re jealous though, to be honest,” Mark says, sitting back and assessing you, both of his hands finding your thighs. His thumbs rub slow, hard, warm, circles through your jeans.

“I can be jealous.” You grab at his face, pouting, and Mark grins.

“I just mean- for you to think there’d be anyone else-” Mark shakes his head slightly, and you move in until your lips are almost touching his, the Canadian’s hands finding your waist again. 

“Keep talking?” you whisper, leaning forward and licking at the shell of Mark’s ear, which has him shivering under you, fingers digging into your waist now. 

“Fuck,” Mark groans, allowing you to push his face to the side and give yourself more access to his neck.

“Can I tell you something?” Mark asks, echoing your words earlier.

“Yes, please.” You press a kiss to his throat, enjoying how fast his pulse is racing- you can see it in the vein on his neck, and it strains when Mark does- pushing up so you can feel him at your core. 

You grind down against Mark, both of you groaning. 

“Even before Jungwoo introduced us-” Mark’s hands apply more pressure to your hips, urging you to move. The quiet Canadian manhandles you into a rocking motion that has the seam of your jeans pressing deliciously against your clit. “I thought you were the cutest-” he groans louder, then he pushes your hands away from him before grabbing your jaw, forcing his lips onto yours, “girl on campus,” he finishes, leaving you all too soon.

“If we’re being honest-” You wrap your arms around the back of Mark’s neck, using his body to anchor you as you grind harder against him, “before Jungwoo introduced us- I thought you were the sexiest guy who’d ever sat by a vending machine in the whole world.”

Mark laughs, blinking up at you in a daze. “The whole world, huh?” 

You hum in affirmation, pressing your lips to Mark’s while you continue to rock yourself against him, core buzzing with the slow foreplay stimulation and the effect of Mark’s words. 

The music theory major tugs at your shirt before one hand slips under it, cold fingers teasing your abdomen. You break the kiss so you can straighten, grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head before tossing it in the direction of your room.

“Wow,” Mark breathes, his thumb brushing the underwire of your bra while he looks at you with eyes so big they have entire galaxies swirling around in their depths and twinkling up at you. 

“So- about what Haechan said- about how you like to suck on boobs-”

“Oh my Jesus,” Mark groans, head lolling back onto the backrest of the couch, then his hands move to cover his face. 

“Mark!” you laugh, leaning forward to grab at his wrists, pulling his hands from his face. “Look at me.”

He groans but after a moment he follows through, blinking up at you while his skin blossoms with pretty pinks. 

“Mark,” you coo, brushing your fingers across his face. “It’s like you’ve forgotten... I have boobs.”

“What?” Mark’s arms wrap around the small of your back and he pulls you close, looking up at you with confused eyes, because this feels much too obvious-

“I just mean-” You run your fingers through his pretty golden hair. “You like sucking on boobs- and well, I mean, I have some boobs-”

Mark’s lips part, and he looks up at you with the biggest doe eyes you’ve ever seen. You think he’s adorable- the way he acts like having a ‘tiddie kink’ is a bad thing-

When he’d eaten you out on Monday, he’d been a little hesitant to go for your tits. You wonder how often his friends rip into him for his affinity for boobs if he’s become this anxious about something that feels to be one of his kinks. 

Mark licks his lips, and then he leans in to press a kiss to the column of your throat, beginning a slow descent. Your fingers tangle in Mark’s hair, and you pull gently when his mouth reaches the swell of your breasts, a moan slipping from between your lips as your hips push you to grind harder against the man between your legs.

The fingers of his left hand are splayed across the small of your back, and then you feel digits testing the clasp of your bra. “Take it off for me?” you whisper, pulling at Mark’s hair to force his mouth away from your chest. His eyes glitter while he looks up at you and he licks his lips, nodding before returning his kisses to your skin. 

His fingers unhook your bra clasp and the fabric goes loose. Mark’s hands move up your back, reaching up to your shoulders, where his digits collect the straps so he can push them down slowly. The Canadian presses his face fully into the swell of your breasts, groaning as he peppers your skin in kisses and little kitten licks that have goosebumps erupting over your body.

“So soft,” he whispers, one hand moving to your waist, his thumb finding the underwire of the bra that's still covering you from him. 

“Mark-” you groan, throwing your head back while grinding harder on him. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans, and you focus your movements to be more fluid, allowing you to drag your core up and down his length-

One of Mark’s hands grabs at the front of your bra and he tears it off of you in a motion that’s so uncharacteristically aggressive that it takes your breath away, fingers pulling on the Canadian’s hair and earning a groan as he attaches his lips to your nipple. 

“Fuck,” he growls, mouth hot and wet against your pebbled nub, his teeth dragging against you a moment later and making you shiver in Mark’s grasp. “So pretty,” he mumbles, pressing his face against your breasts as his hands and mouth try to worship all of you at once, the thumb of his left hand brushing over your neglected nipple and earning another gasp and roll of your hips.

“Mark- I want-” you whimper, hips shuddering when Mark’s teeth tease your nipple.

“What do you want?” he whispers, breath hot against your skin while his hands massage your breasts, sending pleasure coursing through your body.

“I want you,” you pout, reaching between your bodies to grab at Mark’s cock, which causes the soft boy under you to jolt with sensitivity, his fingers immediately wrapping around your wrist to pull you away.

“If you do that you’re gonna make me cum too fast,” Mark tells you, hiding his face against your chest while one of his hands moves to the small of your back, keeping you close to him. 

“But I want you,” you say again.

“After I make you cum like this,” Mark tells you, lips returning to your nipple while his hands find your waist, urging you to grind down against him again. “I wanna see you cum like you did on Monday.” His breath is hot when he speaks, lips teasing your nipple with each word and making you groan in frustration, fingers getting a better grip on Mark’s hair. “So pretty.”

“Mark!” you whine, hips working of their own accord. Between his words, his tongue- his hands, and the way your hips are moving- you find yourself teetering on the edge of an orgasm before you can even wrap your head around the position you’re in- he’s going to make you cum from grinding? With your clothes still on? 

“Cum for me?” His tongue flicks at your nipple before he places open mouthed kisses against your breasts, collecting them in two hands and pressing them together while his hot breath sends you into overdrive.

You let out a pathetic whimper, your core squeezing around nothing as your orgasm slams into you. 

“Mark-” You moan, hips moving erratically due to the intensity of your release.

“I’ve got you,” The Canadian promises, his hands finding your waist to help guide your motions. He presses kisses to the underside of your jaw while you wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto the man who helps you through your high until you’re a whimpery, needy mess.

“Mark-” you moan when he lets you come to a stop. Your skin is clammy, heart hammering against your rib cage. You grab his face, pressing a kiss to his hot lips. “Need you now.”

“Not here,” Mark responds, his hands finding your ass as he stands up, keeping you close to his chest. “Your bedroom. With the fairy lights.”

“And the window open so we can hear the rain.” You press kisses to Mark’s neck while he carries you. 

Mark makes sure to use his foot to kick your shirt into your room before he closes the door behind you- it’s likely Jeno and Yeji will be stranded at the frat while the rain is as bad as it currently is- but Mark doesn’t want to take any chances with them walking in on the two of you.

The Canadian is careful when he sets you onto your bed, and you immediately adjust your position, leaning your head back against the pillows. Mark reaches past you, finding the powerbar switch on the corner of your bed that controls all the pretty lights in your room, and a moment later, Mark’s golden hair is practically haloed around him by the twinkly white lights. 

“Hi,” He says when he turns his attention back to you, his lips finding your nose.

“Hi.” You beam up at him, your cheeks already starting to hurt from how big your smile is. “Off?” You grab at the hem of his shirt and Mark lets out a contented sigh, pulling away from you so he can remove the fabric keeping his pretty torso from your greedy eyes and eager hands. “I can’t believe you look like this,” you groan the moment his shirt is discarded on your floor, and Mark jolts when your cold fingers brush against his abdomen.

“Like what?” he asks, leaning over you again, his nose brushing up your cheek as his lips leave soft kisses in their wake.

“Just- so- so perfect,” You moan when his mouth begins to suckle on your ear and your hands smooth across his shoulders, pulling him closer while your legs wrap tighter around his waist. 

“One of us is perfect,” Mark laughs against your skin, “but it’s not me.” 

You hum happily. “Liar.”

Then you push at Mark’s chest, and he lets up immediately, allowing you to roll your bodies until you’re situated on top of the Canadian. His hands find your waist only for you to grab them, interlocking your fingers while you look down at the pretty boy in your bed. “Jungwoo told me you’ve written a few songs about me.”

Mark groans, throwing his head back into your pillows- you kind of enjoy having Mark in cute little moments- only for you to throw a curveball at him.

You love watching his ears turn pink, and you love reassuring Mark that he doesn’t have to be so embarrassed when he’s with you- that you’re pretty sure there’s nothing he could do that would make you laugh at him or make fun of him- and one day you’d seen the poor music theory major poke himself in the eye with a straw because he was so focused on his book that he couldn’t be bothered to watch where his mouth was going-

“Mark-” You adjust the way you’re sitting, grinding down against the outline of his cock, and this forces him to meet your eyes. “What are the songs about?”

“You, obviously.” Mark sits up suddenly, letting go of your hands in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist, fingers smoothing across the expanse of the small of your back, guiding your grinding motions like he had on the couch. 

“Do you write about the things you want to do to me? Mark?” You love the way his name feels on your lips, and the man below you gives a small moan nearly every time you say it. 

His fingers dig into your waist and he hides his face in your chest. “So many things.”

“Like what?” You run your digits through his hair.

“Think about you like this,” Mark says, looking up at you with soft eyes. “Riding me.” His hands grab your hips, forcing you to grind against him. “Think about your mouth.” Now his hand comes to cup your face, thumb testing your bottom lip as you press into his palm, opening your mouth to accept him. “Think about how sweet you taste,” Mark groans, rolling the two of you suddenly so you’re on your back again, and the pretty music theory major presses kisses to your breasts before beginning his descent. 

“Mark-” You giggle. 

“Let me have a taste?” His teeth nip at the waistband of your jeans, and you shiver at the feeling, closing your eyes to enjoy it- only to remember you need to have priorities.

“You’ve already made me cum once without your cock-” you whimper, pulling Mark’s face back up to yours.

“What’s one more?” he asks between kisses.

“It’s one more without you,” you groan, shoving your hand down the front of Mark’s pants before he can even stop you.

“Fuck-” Mark’s teeth sink into your bottom lip and his hands tense in the pillows on either side of your head as you stroke his length through his briefs. 

“Don’t make me beg for you, Mark,” you plead, kissing his jaw and making doe eyes up at him.

“I could never make you beg,” he says sincerely, pressing his lips against yours while one hand pushes yours from his pants before it hikes your leg high on his waist. This time, when Mark grinds down against you, rolling his body fluidly, he hits all the right spots.

Your legs twitch and you pull at Mark’s hair, gasping- “Fuck - Mark - pants off!” You whine pathetically, so overcome with lust from the amount of foreplay you’ve just endured that you can hardly form sentences. 

Luckily, you don’t need full sentences, because ‘pants off’ is enough for the Canadian, who rolls off of you and lifts his hips, wiggling from his jeans before going for your own. You practically kick your pants off, and Mark grabs at your foot, stopping you from narrowly kicking him while he laughs up at you. “You’re so wild,” he grins, pressing a kiss to your inner calf before joining you on the bed again. 

“Take my panties too, please,” you tell him, closing your legs so he can’t slot between them- you refuse to have another grinding session with your clothes keeping Mark from you- in fact, maybe you want a little control, and you sit up.

“Should I be worried about the look in your eyes?” Mark asks, sitting on his knees in front of you.

You shake your head. “No- but… lay down?”

He looks at you suspiciously.

“Please?” You crawl forward and Mark’s lips part while he gapes at you, a dazed look on his face.

A moment later he’s following through and laying down, getting comfortable against the pillows and adjusting his briefs. His skin is beginning to flush with embarrassment, and you think Mark must be crazy to think he’s anything other than ethereal while laid out on your bed, pretty fairy lights illuminating his soft features, with the sound of rain seeping through your window.

You straddle Mark’s thighs, leaning over him to press a kiss to his lips, then his neck, and Mark pushes his hips up against you when you decide to suck on his ear lobe again. “Fuck- you feel so good,” he says softly, fisting the sheets.

“Then why aren’t you touching me?” You tease, and within a microsecond, one of Mark’s hands is cupping your breast, squeezing gently. 

“Like this?” Mark whispers.

“Yeah.” You roll your hips- and suddenly you think you might know why Mark enjoys teasing you so much. Watching him be all pretty and needy below you- knowing you’re working him up this way- 

You continue your descent and Mark watches you carefully as you hook your fingers in his briefs. He sucks in a breath when you begin to pull his underwear down, and Mark shifts, making it easier for you to get him fully naked for you. 

Mark’s pretty cock smacks up against his abdomen, and as soon as you've tossed Mark’s briefs aside, you find yourself running your tongue up its length. Your hand gets a good grip on the base of Mark’s cock, and you relax into the feeling of blowing the man who’s brought so much joy to your life.

He groans, hand fisting your hair, and you suck on him even harder, swirling your tongue repeatedly around the head. 

“Fuck- baby,” his hips push up, cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag slightly, your throat constricting around him. Mark groans louder and he pulls at your hair, forcing you off of him. “Get your cute little butt up here,” he instructs, and you’re more than happy to follow through. 

It’s all too easy to move up from where you’re straddling Mark’s pretty thighs- and that's when you remember you’re still wearing your practically ruined pair of panties.

“Mark-” you whine, immediately looking up at him to fix the problem, that in all honesty, you put yourself in.

“Sorry,” Mark says, and then his hands are reaching for your panties. “Sorry-” he repeats a few more times as he tears them in two, throwing the ruined fabric onto the ground before grabbing your hips and adjusting you so you can line up with his cock-

You sink down onto Mark and both of you groan in ecstasy. Your walls flutter around the Canadian’s length, getting used to the new intrusion, and Mark sits up, enclosing you in his arms while he wraps his mouth around your nipple, suckling and kitten licking. 

He drags his teeth against your sensitive nub and your pussy clenches around his cock, earning a groan from the man beneath you, who ruts up, one hand moving behind him to use as leverage so he can begin to move up and into you.

Likewise, you use your legs to push yourself up before sinking back down, a small whimper leaving your lips at the stimulus. “Just like that,” Mark tells you, and you thread your fingers through his hair to anchor yourself while you continue your tentative movements.

“Feels so good,” Mark says, moving his kisses to your neck before finally reaching your lips. His tongue clashes with yours and you ride him harder, the sound of skin on skin filling the room with each bounce on his cock. “Look at you,” his hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek, “my little riding pro.” 

You can’t help the way your skin flushes with heat, and you bashfully look away, only for Mark to force your eyes back to his when he grabs at your jaw. “Don’t be shy.”

“You don’t be shy.” You push at his shoulders, laughing.

“I’m not shy,” Mark insists.

“You’re not?” You cock an eyebrow, ready to whip out receipts and spit facts about your favourite pink eared blushy boy- but when Mark flips you, he takes your breath away.

You blink up at the man above you, who has always been such a soft, steady presence- but now he has a glint in his eye- and all the shyness you’ve fallen in love with, is nowhere to be seen. 

Mark presses his lips against yours and he begins to roll his hips, grabbing at the pillows on either side of your head to use as leverage while he roughly thrusts into you. 

Soft mewls and whimpers escape your kisses, and when Mark moves his lips to your neck, whispering “Let it all out princess, tell me how good I’m making you feel” you simply can’t hold in your moans.

“Mark-” You dig your fingers into his shoulders, gasping when one of his hands moves to your thigh, pressing it up and against your chest, which allows him to go even deeper inside of you. “Fuck- Mark- please, oh my god-”

You grab his hair, tangling your fingers in the soft locks and forcing his lips up to yours while your eyes clench shut, body teetering on the edge of an orgasm. 

“Cum for me?” 

You smash your lips against Mark’s as he tears your orgasm out of you, his hips continuing their steady pace while your pussy spasms over and over again around his cock. Mark groans loudly into your mouth, grabbing at the pillow next to your head and squeezing, hips shuddering while your body works him through his own high.

When his hips finally come to a stop, you let out a groan, wrapping your arms around his back so he has to stay pressed to your chest.

His breath is hot against your neck, and he swallows thickly before breaking the silence; “Thanks.”

You laugh immediately, pushing Mark so he can roll off of you and you can lay sideways, using his chest to prop yourself up, gaze fixed on the pretty boy. “I like how you’re the one saying thank you.”

“I’m definitely the one who got lucky here,” Mark insists. “I mean- have you seen you?”

You hide your face against Mark’s chest, and he wraps his arms around the back of your head, grinning at your ceiling. 

“Are you tired?” Mark asks when he notices the way you seem to be falling asleep next to him.

“Yes, are you?”

“Yeah- I should probably get going if you want to sleep-”

You tighten your grip on him, “but then my pillow would be gone.”

“I guess that’s true,” Mark smiles, his fingers finding your shoulder, where he traces shapes absentmindedly. “So- you want me to stay?”

“Yes, please.”

“And in the morning-” Mark trails off.

“Yeji is used to you by now,” you assure him. “Kind of like how I'm used to Jeno.”

“Right.” Mark nods. “But if I'm sleeping over- and you’re passing out right now- aren’t we missing some aftercare?” 

He can feel you grin against his chest, and then you’re pushing yourself up to look at him. “What do you have in mind?”

“Hadn’t thought that far.” Mark feels his skin heating, but when he meets your eyes, he can see that when you giggle, you’re giggling because he’s cute, and not from judgement. 

“A shower could be nice,” you suggest, running the tip of your finger from Mark’s shoulder and down his collarbone.

“Then let's go.” 

You sigh. “That means getting up- and my bed is so nice and warm.” You squeeze Mark, cuddling in closer and hiking your leg up onto his abdomen.

He groans, a warm hand finding your thigh and pulling it higher, smoothing up and down your skin and massaging your flesh. “The shower could be nice and warm.”

“You know what else is nice and warm?” you say teasingly, inching yourself up his side so you can access his neck, which you pepper in kisses.

“You want to hear something crazy?” Mark asks, his pulse racing where you’re kissing his throat.

“What’s that?” you tease your finger around the center of his chest, enjoying the way you can feel his heart jumping under his skin.

“I probably shouldn’t say it-” Mark sighs.

“No, say it!” you insist, moving to fully straddle Mark so you can look into his eyes, hands flat against his chest.

“I just-” Mark’s hand finds the back of your head, pulling you in until your lips are just touching- “I think i’m kind of in love with you-” You simply stare at him, processing his words, and the two second delay has the man shifting below you, skin blossoming with shyness. “I know- it’s crazy- and it probably sounds like a line-”

“It’s not- it doesn't,” You try to assure him, tripping over yourself from the shock. “Can I tell you something crazy too?”

“Please do.” Mark can hardly meet your eyes.

“I think I'm kind of in love with you too.”

“Really?” Mark looks up at you with those massive eyes- the ones you’ve fallen deeper and deeper into every day.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“So-” Mark rolls the two of you, practically buzzing with excitement that has you giggling, “does that mean-” Mark presses kisses to your neck that are so energized that they tickle you, his blonde hair brushing by your face and making you laugh even more. “Does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?”

The music theory major pulls away from your neck to watch you nod, and you smile up at him. 

“Say it?” Mark pleads, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I will be your girlfriend,” you clarify, and then he’s kissing you, and it’s like your first kiss all over again.

The two of you end up making it to the shower, but not until much later.

24: Saturday - November 15th

Mark’s mind is blank. He’s so completely enraptured in the moment that nothing else needs to be filling his generally messy mind. 

It’s still raining, and the pattering of water on cement can be heard as a sort of white noise right behind the Etta James record you’d put on after your morning routine- which you’d allowed Mark to watch.

Now you’re getting ready to study, and Mark’s still sitting in your bed, so completely happy just to be existing in the same space as you- to be able to watch you like this- it’s extremely different from the morning he’d assume he’d have, which included picking up empty beer cans and making sure all the younger guys were accounted for, skin unspoiled from the Frat Tattoo Bandit - who Mark is sure is Haechan, even though everyone’s seen Yangyang with the gun, but Mark thinks the flash tattoos that are showing up on all the younger pledges are more up Haechan’s alley. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask.

“You- then something stupid,” Mark admits, smiling at you and running a hand through his messy hair. 

“Something stupid?” You cock your head, getting onto the foot of the bed and crawling towards Mark.

The Canadian swallows thickly, adjusting the way he’s sitting so he can be straighter against your headboard. “Fuck-” His eyes take you in and you know how cute you look- you’d worn a little skirt today, just for him. 

“So are you going to tell me?” You smile, loving how easy it is to distract Mark and throw him off his rhythm.

“Right- uh,” Mark grabs at your waist, pulling you to be seated nicely in his lap, legs on either side of him. “There’s this tattoo bandit-”

He tells you the cliff notes version of events, and you listen, watching him speak. He’s so pretty, especially when telling stories. And then he’s asking, “should I go get us breakfast? If you’re busy studying-”

“Yeji usually cooks a nice hangover cure breakfast on Saturdays,” you tell him. “She probably wouldn’t mind if we joined her.”

“That sounds good,” Mark nods, and soon you find yourself holding the Canadian’s hand and peeking out of your doorway to the kitchen. Yeji is alone, and you pull Mark, leading him to where you take a seat at the island counter.

“Morning Yeji.”

“Morning-” she turns and stops abruptly when she notices Mark, a massive grin spreading over her face, “you two.”

“Do you mind if we join you for breakfast?” you ask, grabbing Mark’s hand under the table. 

“Sure!” Yeji responds immediately, without a second thought.

“What? He gets to stay but I don't?” 

You turn to see Jeno standing in the doorway of Yeji’s room. He’s pulling a hoodie on, and you note the mark on his neck- Yeji’s always been a biter. 

“Mark is a sweet boy,” Yeji states, pointing her spatula at Jeno.

“But baby, you like me bad,” Jeno insists, entering the kitchen to press a kiss to Yeji’s cheek that has her giggling. 

“Fine, you can stay- but only because I can never eat the whole package of meat, and you’re a walking garbage disposal.”

“Guess that makes you the garbage woman cuz you’re always taking me out.” Jeno presses a quick peck to her cheek before darting off, with Yeji’s scolding following him the entire way to his seat on Mark’s other side.

Mark is struck by how easy it is for him to get lost in the moment when the moments are as good as they almost always are at your apartment. 

“Let me help you with that,” Mark suggests when the food is done, and he grabs plates, already knowing his way around your kitchen. 

Breakfast goes by much too quickly for Mark’s liking, and it’s spent laughing. Mark’s never really thought much about how fun double dates could be- and that’s kind of what this feels like.

But when you grab Mark’s hand and begin to drag him to your room- Mark realizes he wishes breakfast was over much sooner- and then, when you jump onto your bed, your little skirt floofing around you and momentarily teasing Mark with your cute panties, he realizes, why does breakfast have to end at all?

He’s a very hungry boy.

Your record has been playing the same five songs on one side of Etta James’s album for as long as you’ve been at breakfast, and while Mark looks at you, it switches to the fourth song: Sunday Kind of Love.

It’s Saturday- but Mark thinks it’s close enough- and he cant believe he’s found it.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This fic has been updated for basic grammar/spelling edits as of March 2023, find the new bonus below! :) see the other boys in frat au here

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🔮 preview.  

He’s only ever eaten you out in his bedroom, too anxious about being interrupted to go further than that. Maybe some part of you feels like you’re missing out- dating a frat boy but never sleeping with him in his frat- this has to be something on a bucket list somewhere. “Are we seriously going to do this?” Even in the low light of the evening, you can see Mark’s ears turning red. 

cw/tw. oral (m receiving), quickie, protected sex, inklings of exhibitionism/having sex at a frat party, sickly sweet praise, vocal moaning Mark, sound kink, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.4k I teaser wc. 400 words

🌙 staring. Mark x afab!Reader  

Bonus

“It’s just that you’ve been dating her for a while now and you haven’t been to a frat party in like ages-” Haechan groans, but Mark’s hardly even listening anymore. His friends have been trying to convince him to come to a party for weeks- and he’s simply been too wrapped up in you to want to go to a loud, sweaty, smelly fuckfest- “What can I say to convince you to come?” 

“Nothing,” Mark sighs, ten seconds away from ditching breakfast to escape beratement. 

Yuta - who’s been watching the whole exchange with a grin - finally pushes off from where he’d been leaning against the counter. “What if we promise not to steal your door this time.”

“Wait-” the music theory major looks up from the sandwich he’s making, “You were part of taking off our own door two months ago?” 

“Of course, I’m the one with the best screw driver,” Yuta rolls his eyes. “But I promise only to use my screwing for good tonight - I’ll even find different room to fuck in- if you come to the back to school party, and bring that cute girlfriend of yours around too.”

“Right! Y/N is fully invited!” Haechan exclaims. 

Mark looks between his friends. “You guys really need musical entertainment, huh?”

Haechan throws his arms around Mark. “We need our Canadian back!”

“Come on Markie,” Yuta taunts, “if you come and play the guitar and sing one of the songs you’ve written about your girlfriend, it’s a sure way for you to get laid tonight.”

As if Mark getting laid tonight was ever in question.

“Yeah!” Haechan joins in. “That’s couple goals as fuck, dude!”  

Mark releases a deep sigh. “Fine, I’ll ask y/n if she wants to come to a party tonight instead of doing a movie, but!” he holds up a hand as Haechan begins to celebrate, “you guys can’t take my bedroom door off, and you can’t be too crazy- and also no promises we’ll even come-”

“I’ll take the maybe,” Haechan grins, high-fiving Yuta, “and just remember- your simp songs don’t only get you laid- they help us all get lucky, so bring one of your simpiest songs. I know you have a shit ton to choose from.”

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[themidnightcrimson]

the human psyche—three. | w. maximoff

summary: in which wanda unclothes the truth before unclothing you.

warning: top!wanda, strap on smut, murder, BLOOD, heavy mental distress, did i mention murder, oh yea by the way there's murder, hey did you know that there's murder?

this post is for 18+ only. minors: do not interact.

series masterlist.

You hit the hardwood floor with a painful thud, racking all the aching bones in your body as you stared at the body of the FBI agent laying presumedly dead in your entrance hall. Your ax was buried in his chest, the handle hovering over the rest of his body as if gesturing towards you to be picked up again to continue the job that had been started.

From where he was laying, it looked as if he had been standing halfway into the hallway before being struck and falling backwards. You noticed that his gun was laying a foot or two away from his outstretched hand, as if it had fallen from his grip when he went down.

From the pressure in your head and the fact that you couldn't remember anything after being at Wanda's, you gathered that you were coming back from another episode. Panic steered your bloodstream. Did you do this? How could you have done this? Did he have his gun out to hurt you, and you defended yourself with the axe? Or did he have his gun to protect himself from you?

Suddenly worried that you had been shot without realizing it, you quickly patted down your entire body searching for blood or pain, but the only blood was the streak across your head that came from the FBI agent.

"Fuck..." you whispered as tears started to cloud your vision, a hard lump swelling in your throat and threatening to break through your windpipe. Your chest was deflating now and locking up, and it seemed like the air around the dead agent was lacking oxygen, so you frantically started to scoot backwards on the floor in search for relief of breath. Still you found none, only a tremble in your body and a childlike cry that drew itself from your tight throat.

Had it been you all along? You'd been chasing circles trying to figure out what happened to your girlfriend, even starting to suspect your damned psychologist. The body bleeding in front of you was enough for you to know that you were only chasing circles around yourself. It was your hand that had pushed her out the window and launched the axe into the agent. It was you, and you didn't even know it.

You needed to turn yourself into the police. You didn't want to hurt anyone, and you wondered if you could at least plead insanity and get an easier sentence. You doubted that would happen, though, because these were violent crimes. It looked like you killed your girlfriend out of anger, like it was premeditated, and it looked like you killed the FBI agent to cover yourself up.

Right when you were about to get up and call the police to come take you away, you suddenly heard a voice echo from the front bathroom near the front door. You eyes flicked to the dark entrance of the open door as you saw a foot step through the doorway first, and then the rest of the person smoothly appeared from through the shadows. "Just calm down, sweetheart."

Wanda.

Your stomach dropped at the sight of her. Not only were you shocked and confused to see her, but there was dark red blood splattered lightly across her hollowed cheek. There was a darkness under her eyes, a seriousness you had never seen in her before as she eyed you and stepped into the hallway.

You stared up at her in disbelief from the floor. "W-Wanda?" you croaked, though you could only mouth her name due to your throat being so tight.

Wanda didn't even glance to the FBI agent as she stepped over his legs. Was the body even really there? Were you hallucinating all of this? Your quickly forming theory was denied when Wanda spoke, "There's no need to be scared, detka. Everyone gets nervous their first time."

"First time?" you whispered softly, watching her slowly walk towards you with her hands in her pockets. A small smile curled her lips as she nodded. "I-I didn't mean to..." you began, but tears snapped your voice box shut. "I don't remember," you sobbed, as the tragedy of your situation came into realization.

Seeing your tears, Wanda quickly came close to you and bent down in front of you, taking hold of your face. "Hey," she cooed. You glanced up to her, seeing clearly how close her face was to yours. The specks of blood on her cheek made you feel sick, but you wondered why there was blood on her, too.

"It's okay, y/n," Wanda whispered, rolling her thumb over your temple and accidentally smearing the blood there. "There's nothing to be scared of. You did so well, better than most do their first kill."

Wanda's eyes, full of darkness and demise, starkly contrasted yours filled with tears and innocent confusion. You started to see through the veil of normalcy that Wanda regularly held up to society. The veil was slipping, parting, tearing right through and revealing the demon that she was. Fear filled your eyes, but when you tried to scoot away from her, her hands gripped your face too tight.

"Hey, don't be afraid of me." Her voice was firm, but still attempting to comfort you. "I did what I had to do. What I've done is all for you, do you understand?"

You obviously did not understand by the wild look of confusion and panic written clearly across your features.

Wanda gave a small sigh and explained, "I've seen it in you since you first walked into my office. I've seen that little thread of darkness that is in myself, like I was looking right into a mirror. I knew then in that moment that I needed to be your seamstress. I needed to take that thread and sew you into what you are meant to be."

"Wanda—"

"I have been guiding you since the start of our sessions to be my companion. You and I—we are Earth's real predators. We give the Earth its beauty—killing is beauty!" she grinned widely, eyes watering as if she was touched by such a morbid sentiment. "You have had it in you since the start. I just needed to bring it out."

"Wanda, please—" You were starting to hyperventilate, and her palms were hurting your face, but you immediately stilled at her next words.

"Killing that little girlfriend of yours was not only a personal endeavor," Wanda said with a tone of humor that made your stomach reel. "It was also to lead you in the right direction. I could only form you into a killer once you thought you were capable of it, yourself."

Breath stilling, your eyes widened at her words. She killed your girlfriend? It was her this whole time? All those sessions... She had manipulated you into thinking you had done it. But it wasn't you—it was her all along.

"I had to push your mind just a little bit," Wanda said quieter with a demonic smirk. "I know you hated those episodes, but they needed to happen. You would have never came to me last night, and you would have never done this if those self-limiting thoughts were present in your mind."

"You..." you finally spoke. "You've been hypnotizing me? That's what my episodes are?!"

Wanda looked down with a smirk. "Something like that." Adrenaline filling your veins at the fact that a serial killer was holding you in her grip, you started to violently struggle to get out of her hold. "Hey! Look, y/n, look at me." She managed to hold your face still and close to hers even though you were trying desperately to pry her hands away. "The worst part of it is over. You've made your first kill, and I was there beside you the whole time."

You didn't know what hypnosis trick Wanda put your mind under right then, but suddenly you could remember what had happened, flashing right behind your eyes in a cloud of red. Wanda had led the FBI agent in, telling him that she was worried about her patient and decided that the law needed to be informed. Wanda closed the door behind them, then you came in confused and scared, your brain all fogged from Wanda's hypnosis. Wanda had handed you the axe, and the FBI agent pulled his gun and told both of you to get on the ground. You could feel the ache in your arm as you swung the weight of the axe. You could hear the slashing of the axe into his chest right then as if it was happening before you, and the sight of the blood splattering towards you, a few drops splattering across Wanda.

It was like you were seeing it all from the outside. Was this a trick? Was it another illusion Wanda was somehow planting into your brain?

Wanda was weirdly focused in on you, and her hands on your face had loosened, so you took the opportunity to slap them away and quickly crawl backwards away from her. Wanda snapped out of it, becoming visibly disappointed in your behavior. "Don't be a bad girl, detka."

"I'm calling the police," you threatened as aggressively as you could, glancing over to the kitchen island where your phone sat on the counter.

"And tell them what?" Wanda quickly countered, her voice sharp and venomous now. "That your psychologist, with whom your file shows your history of violent intrusive thoughts and dissociative episodes, is the one who killed your girlfriend and the FBI agent assigned to your case? We'll see how well that turns out." Her face was full of anger, but when she saw the shock in your face, she softened.

"You framed me," you whispered, feeling like the cold floor was swallowing you down.

"Oh, baby. I did what I had to do before I knew I could trust you," she said with a tilt of her head.

Suddenly, from behind her, you heard a wheeze. As Wanda turned around, you could see past her. The FBI agent's feet were moving on the floor, his body trembling as he started to cough up blood. A feeling of relief filled you at the fact that he was still alive, but Wanda slowly turned back around to you with a smile.

"Oh, dear," she said tragically, "Well, you tried your hardest, didn't you? I know you're still shaken up, so I'll finish him off for you." She carefully stood to her feet. "But don't worry, detka. I'll still let it count as yours."

With that, she turned and walked towards him, grabbing hold of the axe and yanking it out of his chest with a sickening sound.

"No!" you screamed, starting to leap forward to stop her, but Wanda held the axe over her head and swung it down with perfect execution, the blade sludging into his head. The opposite wall of your hallway was graphically painted in blood with only the first swing, and although you could only see Wanda's back, you could only imagine what had splattered onto her.

You thought it was a one and done, but Wanda grunted as she pulled the axe out and then swung it over her head again, smashing it back into his skull. You were going to be sick.

The horror and morbidity of what you were seeing caused you to shrink into a ball and hide your face in your knees like a child, covering your ears so you wouldn't have to hear the sound of flesh and bone being cut open. You could only hear every thud, each coming faster than the last, and Wanda's grunts. You didn't know how long it lasted until you could hear that Wanda was now only swinging the axe into your floor.

You waited for a moment until you heard no more noise before you slowly peeked your eyes open and peered over at the scene. Wanda was heaving from the physical exertion, standing with both legs over the body and leaning her head back as she struggled to catch her breath. You watched the axe drop from her hand and fall to the floor, and then she slowly turned around, wobbly as if she were drunk.

The sight of her was enough to make you have to hold back a scream. Her face was entirely painted in blood now, with no sight of skin except for her ears. Even her neck was painted, and the front of her white buttoned up-shirt left open at her chest was splattered all the way down her front. You could even see the wetness of blood on her pants, and her fists that were balled at her sides were crimson.

She was drunk off the kill, her pupils wide and crazed, her lips left open in animalistic breathing. The thing she was to you now was no longer human. She took a step forward, and every instinct in you told you to run, so you did. Since she was blocking the front door, you quickly sprinted to the fire escape, struggling to lift up the old window so you could climb through it.

As soon as your hands touched the metal windowsill, her hands touched your shoulders. "Don't try to run from me, detka," she growled, her voice sounding inhuman.

Frozen under her cold touch, you let her slowly turn you around to face her. Her bloodied face was staring down at you emotionlessly, as if the murder had taken all of her emotion with it, like a fresh cleanse.

"It's you and me now," she whispered, bringing a hand to rest against your jaw. You could feel blood inking your face, and you started to cry.

Through your teary vision, you hadn't seen her leaning in until her lips pressed against yours. Immediately tasting blood, you shrieked and tried to push her away, but she grabbed you and pulled you against her with unfound strength, keeping your face against hers with a hand crushing the back of your neck. You were pressed against her bloodied front, getting it all over your own face and your clothes. You felt disgusted, sickened, horrified—exhilarated.

Finally, Wanda broke the kiss to whisper, "I know what you think of me, y/n. How many nights have you felt so dirty to touch yourself to the thought of your own therapist?"

"Stop!" You bashed your fists against her chest, but she managed to keep you in her hold.

"How many times did you think of me when your stupid girlfriend was fucking you? Huh? I already know, but I wanna hear you say it," she hissed, catching hold of your jaw and forcing you to look up at her. "You've been mine this whole time, you know that? I've had you under my hold for months, and the worst part is that you've loved every second of it. Am I right?" Her teeth were stark white against her reddened skin as she bared them at you.

She was right. You'd had a crush on her since you first saw her, and as much as you always tried to deny it, you had thought about her during your private moments. You didn't know how she knew that, but there was not much that could you surprise you about this woman anymore—even if she was a true mind-reader.

Her other hand sunk down to your ass, squeezing it and pushing your hips against hers, where you felt a strap under her pants. Preceding the shame you quickly felt was a roaring wave of heat that washed over your entire body and alighted something inside you.

Wanda's breath trembled as she started to grind herself into you, resting her forehead against yours and closing her eyes. You could smell the blood all over her, and although the horrors of her monstrous revelation were still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but feel desire for her as she rubbed her strap right against your clit.

"Wanda," you breathed, trying one last time with the willpower you had left to push her away.

"I would never hurt you, detka," she said much softer suddenly. "Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop, please." Her voice was desperate.

You said nothing. Your hand that had been pushing her away now had hold of her once white collar, and you found yourself moving your hips against hers.

"Tell me to keep going," Wanda countered to your silence, nudging her face against the side of yours before pressing a kiss to your neck. The cold blood was all over you now, and something about it made you want her desperately.

Something possessed you in that moment, because you wrapped an arm over Wanda's shoulders and begged, "Keep going, please."

Within moments, Wanda had guided the both of you to the floor. Dizziness and heat filled you as Wanda crashed her lips against yours, kissing you with fiery passion. Both of you had wanted each other for so long now, and through the terrible catalysts, you finally had each other in whatever way it was.

There was no time to waste, although the both of you now had as much time in the world as you wanted. Patience with your mutual desire had run thin, and Wanda's rapid breaths and eager hands represented that.

"Fuck me," you begged her, shocking yourself. You had never been this desperate for someone ever before, but the throbbing in your heat was borderline painful.

Wanda groaned as she sunk her teeth into your neck, reaching down between the both of you to pull your shorts and panties down your legs where you kicked them off the rest of the way. She unbuttoned her pants and took out her strap, lining the tip up with your entrance where she kept it there.

Moving her face out of your neck, she looked down at you for a moment, the sight of blood smeared messily on your own face and front, your eyes that had feared her moments before now wanting her with deep-seated need.

Taking your wrists and pinning them to the floor above your head, Wanda pressed her lips to yours as she thrusted inside you, filling you up all at once. You broke the kiss with an instant moan, eyes squeezing shut as she immediately hit the sweet spot inside you. Wanda groaned and tried to kiss you as she started thrusting wildly.

"You were already so wet for me," she grunted, her hands on your wrists tightening. "Did it turn you on to see what you saw? You're going to be my perfect slut, aren't you?"

"Yes," you whined, hooking your bare legs up around Wanda's waist and bringing her closer to you.

"Fuck," Wanda shakily whispered as she started to thrust into you harder, her eyes squeezing shut as the both of you became totally inebriated with pleasure.

She fucked you with wild abandon on the floor, blood everywhere, in front of the smashed window that was now boarded up after the incident, feet away from a corpse whose head was smashed to smithereens. Maybe Wanda was right, this was who you were, and you just needed her to bring it out of you.

"Wanda," you moaned as she began to hit your sweet spot deep inside repeatedly, and Wanda buried her face into your neck as she came close. She was grunting, sweating, bloody, hunched into you as she dug herself as deep as she possibly could be inside you. You were what she had set her mind on for months, and now that she had you, you were perfect.

"Fuck, y/n," Wanda moaned, and when her thrusts grew sloppy, you both were sent into a blinding orgasm that had you moaning her name loudly and arching your body up to her. You had never experienced pleasure like that before in your life, and neither had Wanda. Your walls clenched her tightly, your wetness coating the front of her pants.

It was several minutes before either of you could come down clearly. You only then realized how sore you were, from being taken so suddenly no matter how wet and needy you had been for her. But you liked the pain, you liked the blood all over both of you, you liked the ache in your wrists from her crushing them as she came, and you liked how she kept herself inside you and kept her face in your neck for several minutes.

Finally, Wanda leaned up, letting go of your wrists to prop herself up and look down at you. You were completely spent, makeup ruined from tears, and what part of your skin was still visible through blood was blushed.

Coming to her senses, Wanda glanced over to the body still lying in the hallway. "Well, I guess I'd better give you your first lesson on cleanup and disposal." She looked back to you with a slightly hopeful look. "Are you ready?"

You looked at her for a moment, expecting to feel that fear and horror return to you. Strangely enough, it didn't, and you could only feel pure excitement for all the things Wanda was going to show you. Grabbing her bloody collar, you yanked her back down close to your face. "Fuck me again, then I'll tell you."

[strwberri-milk]

Hi there! I've requested a Kaeya fic before and thank you for writing it😭💕I have no idea if you write for Ayato but if you do; and it's okay if you don't! (and since I love your writing) I'd like to request a reader who is needy for him since she's feeling that he hasn't touched or been intimate with her for like forever because he is always busy, but ends up giving her what she wants. Hope you have a nice day!!🤭

i do sorta write ayato!! i've written two things for him :D just check out my masterlist tab under inazuma and you'll see what he was up to uwu - also this is a mix of fluff and smut - when the second set of bullets begin its smut so pls!! be aware of that :D

Ayato is a busy man and you would never fault him for it. You know that he has a lot to handle and that it keeps him out and about far longer than you deem comfortable. But, you aren't ever going to get mad at him.

That doesn't mean you won't mess with him though. You're inclined to tease him a bit when you can see him, giving him a sly look before disappearing too far away for him to chase after you. You can tell by the furrow of his brow he is very unamused, and you giggle to yourself at how you think he'll react when he finally gets his hands on you.

For now, you spend most of your time not working or out and about laying on his side of the bed, curled in his sheets as you read and entertain yourself. It's nice for you to be able to spend time where he did, still able to smell him on the sheets and placate yourself with that.

You collapse into the sheets with a sigh, curling up into Ayato's blankets for the nth time to rest after a long day. It was still a little too early for you to go to bed, figuring out what to do to kill some time before going to sleep. You decide on reading a book Ayato left for you, just about to crack open the pages when you hear the door open.

You slowly lower the book, looking at Ayato in disbelief. He's really here, standing in front of you with a tired, yet still adoring look. Once you realise it really is him you launch yourself out of bed, throwing your arms around him and holding him tightly. He laughs and shuts the door behind you both, kissing your cheek affectionately.

"Missed me, did you?" he asks softly, words getting smothered when you press a desperate kiss against his lips.

"Of course I did! I missed you so much," you gasp, still in shock that he was back before you went to sleep for once.

"I expected a warm welcome home, but not quite this warm," he teases this time, trailing kisses down your neck.

"You haven't been here in so long what else am I supposed to do? Pretend I haven't been waiting for you to come back to me?"

He can see that there are slight tears beginning to form in your eyes, tsking a little lightheartedly at how adorable you're being. Ayato kisses your tears away, hands digging into your hips as you begin to needily whine for his attention again.

"Tell me you're going to be here when I wake up this time? This project you've been working on has been taking so much longer than I thought it would. Do you at least have some sort of timeline for me to figure out when you'll be free again? We can at least go on one date, right?"

His heart breaks a little now that he's able to hear just how much his absence has messed with you. You do your best to hide it from him and he really appreciates that, but that doesn't mean it won't upset him to hear you being so honest with him.

"I'm so sorry my beloved. I've done everything I can to speed up the process but thankfully, I've finally caught up. We're finally done, which means you won't have to spend all day waiting for me now."

The happy look on your face is all he can ask for, holding you tightly against him as you excitedly tell him everything you've been wanting to for weeks.

It doesn't take much time for the two of you to catch up, talking for hours until it's time to go to bed. You seem quite resistant to the idea and he can't blame you, feeling himself get a little excited as well with the way you allow your hand to traverse his body.

He scolds you teasingly, shaking his head as you pout cutely at him. He wants to work you up even more, knowing it'll be that much sweeter to tease you later when you're even whiner and desperate.

He waits until you think it's time to give up, about to give him the cold shoulder before running his hand up your thigh and kissing up your back, whispering into your ear how "You don't really mean that" and "I'll make sure you're so full of me you won't miss me anymore". The sweetest things all tied up in his sultry tone, fingers teasing at your hole before he pins your wrists above your head.

"Ayato, please," you whine, wrists struggling against his grasp as you feel him bring you up to another orgasm for what feels like the 10th time.

His pace is brutal, never stopping not even when he cums inside of you as he uses you the way he wants, pent-up frustration finally able to be released into your body.

"Please what? You want me to stop? I'm not quite done here yet with you. You just look so cute I have to spoil you and treat you the way you want to be treated," he purrs, shuddering again as he feels your walls clench over him in ecstasy.

You've cum so many times at this point your moans are just breathless whimpers, arching into his hips as your legs thrash around him before coming down. He can feel the way your thighs clench around his waist, hips desperately bucking into his as he hears your creamy arousal frothing on his balls.

"You feel so good - I've missed your cock so much!"

The high-pitched way you whine for him makes him lose his mind, finally freeing a hand so he can reach down and circle your throbbing bud. He grunts as you clench around him at the feeling, ankles locking behind his back as your head is thrown back again in pleasure.

"One more for me, okay? Just one more and I'll get you all cleaned up. You've done so good for me so far," he mutters, sucking hickies wherever he can reach.

You nod fervently, his efforts quickly culminating in another orgasm building up fast. Somehow, the burning overstimulation you were feeling in your core was getting even warmer, shared fluids running down both your bodies as he adjusted your thighs to reach your chest. It made his cock drag against your walls even more insistently, weak moans becoming screams of pleasure at the new sensation.

Finally, you feel him cum inside of you for the last time, leaking out and down your spent hole as you cum shortly thereafter. Ayato groans softly as his hips stutter into you, making you whimper weakly as your nails scratch down his arm.

"There you go, I knew you could do it," he says sweetly into your ear, bringing you back up to his chest and giving you the tender loving care you deserve after dealing with all of his pent up energy.