It's fine

the air was thick with anticipation as you lay back against damians bed, your heart pounding as he hovered over you. his usual stoic expressed softened, green eyes alight with something raw and hungry. you were laid bare beneath him, your arms around his neck, wanting to kiss him more. his hands roamed your sides, his lips brushing against your own as he muttered, “you sure about this, beloved?” a nervous, excited laugh slipped through your lips as you arched your back to press against him. “I've never been more sure, dami,” you whispered, hands sliding up his muscular arms.

damians lips finally met yours in a slow, deep kiss, all patience and once controlled lust leaving, the tip of his cock pressed to your wet lower lips— until a sudden, a loud scratch at the door made you both jump. a muffled whine followed, and you pulled away from your boyfriend. “what the hell was that?” damian sighed in frustration, “titus,” he muttered under his breath, “i forgot to feed him before—” another whine, more insistent this time, echoed in the room. your laughter bubbled up as you pushed him back, “babe, you're dogs gonna starve because of our honryness.” you teased.

he let out a long suffered-sigh, eyes rolling, “he'll survive another—” the scratching intensified, accompanied by a low pitiful howl. you couldn't help but giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek. damian scowled, but even he couldn't hide the fond smile playing at the corner of his lips, grumbling under his breath about insubordinate canines as he got up. pulling back up his sweatpants, he opened the door. revealing titus who was happy to see him, running behind damian to his food bowl. damian sighed once more, opening the kitchen cabinet and scooping his food in a cup, pouring it in his bowl. titus short tail wagged behind him.

thinking about you joking around with mark grayson and calling him… small. you know where.

it sounds like such a silly scenario, but walk w/ me: you and mark have an… odd friendship. looking back on it, you two were an unlikelier pair than winning the lottery. you’re from completely different worlds– you were more on the straight and narrow: the academic side of things. all you did was bust your ass, and you had plenty to show for it– friends, awards, this air of recognition that followed you from classroom to classroom.

and mark? well, he fell more into the category of incredibly average. average grades, average social life, even an average reputation amongst the student body– the kind that makes you easy to remember and always gets you labeled as a “pretty cool guy,” but keeps you out of any real trouble. maybe that’s part of his charm– the fact that everything about him is initially so unassuming, so run of the mill that you don’t even think twice. not until you start to get to know him.

there’s plenty that sticks out once you get to know him.

then, somehow, at the start of your senior year, you two ended up partnered together for a project in the same upper-level english class. y’know, the college freshman one everyone takes because it’s a cheap credit, regardless of if they’re going to harvard to study law, or to the local community college to save a bit of money. neither of you had many expectations, but you and mark became fast friends. mark’s awkward charm grew on you, and he already had a decent opinion of you from seeing you around, but finally being in a situation where he could talk to you and not feel like a nuisance only made him think of you more highly than before. you were cool as shit; he has no idea how you two hadn’t spoken sooner.

but it’s no surprise that you two absolutely nailed the project. with your smarts and mark’s willingness to learn, the grade on it ended up being so good that it made you jump into mark’s arms out of pure excitement. mark caught you effortlessly, spinning you around and giggling alongside you without a second thought. the intimacy of such a reaction didn’t dawn on you two until long after he set you down, you grinning giddily in his face, while he could do nothing but grin back.

that’s how you ended up here– lying in mark’s bed, long after graduation, and visiting home from campus on a long weekend. you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and reading one of his copies of seance dog as he works on a paper. when you found out you two would be attending the same university, you were more than stoked. mark was stoked too, but he was so sure you could’ve gotten into one of chicago’s finest, or, better yet, move away from illinois entirely, rather than attend upstate university. he gave you a hesitant look when you said you were more than content with your choice, saying that a degree is a degree no matter where you went and that as long as you could be with mark, it would be worth it. deep down, though, mark swore something bloomed in his chest that day. he doesn’t really know what that feeling was– is, to be more accurate, because he still feels it sometimes– but that’s the least of his worries. 

his main worry is getting this paper in by 11:59 pm tonight. 

and just like that, the rhythmic clacking of mark’s fingers against the keyboard fills the silence and leaves you to bask in this comforting sensation of warmth. you’re so relaxed that you can’t bring yourself to move. not that you would have wanted to, anyway.

it’s peaceful. so, of course, you have to ruin it. 

“you ever want to fuck a cartoon character?” you suddenly say, the copy of seance dog in your hand and your foot crossed over your knee. you hear the way mark’s typing pauses for a moment, and imagining his reaction forces you to bite back a snicker. a pregnant silence fills the room before the typing begins again, just as rhythmic and hypnotic as before.

“i know you’re not saying that about seance dog,” mark finally quips back, his voice dripping with an absurd amount of mirth. you can hear his smile in his voice– you always can, because mark rarely doesn’t smile. it’s one of your favorite things about him.

you can’t help but take the bait.

“you think i could be?” you ask, tone scandalized and brows raised. neither of you move to face each other just yet– you don’t need to. you can tell exactly what face mark’s making from the sound of his voice, and mark can do the same for you. it’s how he knows that you’ve stopped biting back that smug smile of yours– the one that creeps across your face when you’re clearly up to something, but he doesn’t know what. you’re a troublemaker; it’s one of his favorite things about you.

“yeah,” he replies without missing a beat, “i clearly know nothing about you. i was once dumb enough to think you were intimidating.”

“i’m still intimidating!”

“yeah, maybe on occasion,” mark teases, his typing ceasing completely so that he can spin around in his chair. he leans against it with his head tossed back and his arms on the armrests, eying you gleefully as you put the comic face down on the bed. “most of the time i forget because you’re too busy saying shit that’s uncomfortably close to ‘i wanna fuck seance dog.’”

“eat shit and die, mark.”

“i don’t wanna.”

“then shut the fuck up and answer the question!”

“fine, fine!” mark laughs and lifts his hands up lazily off the chair in mock-surrender. “‘course i’ve wanted to fuck a cartoon character. who hasn’t? i’m not a nun.”

something flashes in your eyes, and you shift to lean forward towards where mark’s sitting, propping up on your elbows on the bed. you grin mischievously; it’s clear you’re up to nothing remotely good. 

“who?” you ask.

mark replies immediately. “koriand’r.”

“wha– from the titans?”

“no, from the avengers. yes, from the titans. who else would i be talking about?”

“alright, down, boy,” you say amusedly, making mark roll his eyes. “i was just checking. but you obviously can’t handle that.”

mark raises an eyebrow. “says who?”

“uhh, says me?"

the two of you are still for a moment, and you start to fear you said something wrong until you see mark’s eyes darken in that telltale way they do when he starts to feel challenged. then, as if that wasn’t enough to give you goosebumps, he does that stupid, mindless thing he does with his tongue, where he runs it along the inside of his cheek. your breath stills in your chest when mark pushes up off the back of his chair and leans forward towards where you lie on the bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped between his thighs. 

it’s hard to keep your gaze from dropping to the veins in his hands.

“oh yeah?” mark asks incredulously, tilting his head. you were joking about being the intimidating one earlier, but the real intimidator is mark. when he gets serious, you swear you can feel something in the air shift. maybe that’s why it feels like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up right now.

“why not?”

the question, in its simple nature, catches you off guard, and in a brief moment of confusion, you tilt your head. “why not what?” “why couldn’t i handle her?”

you stare at mark as if he’s joking, but instead of him laughing and waving you off, mark stares back at you expectantly, brow arched and lips quirked up at the corners. it’s like he wants to smile, but he can’t. won’t. 

this dickhead must have a death wish.

“what do you mean ‘why couldn’t you handle her?’” you say casually– like what you’re saying is most obvious thing in the world. “it’s koriand’r, mark. she’d chew you up and spit you out before you even had time to undo your belt.”

you swipe up your copy of seance dog and busy yourself with trying to find where on the page you last left off. honestly, it doesn’t matter where you start reading. you’re willing to do anything to help get your mind off the weight of mark’s eyes boring into you.

“besides,” you huff, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “koriand’r has standards, and you probably have a small dick, anyway.”

the second those words leave your mouth, the room falls deathly silent, and you swear it’s as if the air has been sucked out of the room. you fall still where you’re at, hoping that somehow, someway, you not moving will make mark want to kill you less. you really don’t know what possessed you to say that– it was a poor attempt at deflection, considering the growing amount of tension you began feeling in that room– but you don’t mean it. didn’t mean it. not one bit. 

you’re doing mental gymnastics to figure out how you can take it back without sounding like a total loser before mark starts laughing, and the joyous and boisterous sound gives you pause.

he couldn’t have found that funny… could he? 

okay, yeah, after a little bit of consideration, he very well could have. this is mark grayson, you’re talking about– not one of the insecure guys you were used to dealing with, who were more likely to blow a blood vessel than a load at the idea of being perceived as “unmanly.” mark’s the type of guy to wear one of your crop tops because he knows you’ll whine about him stretching them out, or wear a maid dress as a punishment for losing a bet, masking his embarrassment with quips about how good his legs look. you also know mark enough to know he’s not a virgin, nor is he a prude, but not well enough to know intimate details about his sex life. sure, jokes are fine, but a play-by-play on how he screwed his ex feels… invasive. beyond the scope of your shared comfort. it was just something you never thought of asking.

well, more like something you could never bring yourself to ask.

you set the comic back down on the bed just in time to watch mark wipe some tears from his eyes, twisting around to face his laptop with a smile on his face. he resumes typing like nothing happened, like you didn’t just obliterate his manhood and leave it in pieces for him to pick up off the floor. it’s hard not to gawk at him in disbelief, blinking rapidly for a few moments before speaking.

“that– didn’t upset you?” you say tentatively, voice a lot meeker than initially intended. mark huffs out a laugh and spins around, hands back to resting on the armrests.

“why would it have?” he says bemusedly, still smiling from before. “we joke like that all the time. honestly, i’m surprised you hadn’t said something like that sooner.”

you can only stare at him blankly, brows knitting in confusion as mark continues to regard you patiently. then, you sit up, pushing up off your elbows to swing around and upright, one leg dangling off the bed while the other stays bent in front of you. 

“why didn’t you get mad?”

mark pauses, eyes narrowing as he tilts his head. “...is this a trick question? why would i? you were joking around.”

“most guys would’ve gotten mad about me saying something like that.”

“yeah, well, most guys aren’t exactly confident about what they’re packing downstairs.”

“and you are?”

mark’s lips part for a second, but no words come out. he quickly shuts his mouth and stares at you, but you stare back, ignoring the way your cheeks start to burn with red-hot embarrassment. 

“well, yeah,” mark finally says, eyes flickering nervously to the side. he looks everywhere– the alarm clock on the dresser, his posters on the wall, everywhere but where you are, sitting prettily on his bed– but his eyes have no choice but to finally lock back onto yours, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. “‘course i’m confident about it.”

“...‘cause it’s not small.”

he pauses. “yeah. ‘cause it’s not small.”

your brain short-circuits right then and there.

you aren’t sure why you’re so surprised by this. it wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to arrive to this conclusion. you were around when mark started dating his ex-girlfriend, amber– around long enough to have seen the exact point in their relationship where they shed the last of their inhibitions and began interacting with each other much more comfortably. you were also around long enough to watch mark come into himself– to lose that dweebish, unsure aura around him and become more confident. muscled. tall. even if he was still pretty dorky most of the time.

perhaps that’s when the thoughts started: when you started to think of mark less as a boy, and more as a man. when you began wondering things about him that you desperately wanted to know, but were much too scared to ask.

at least you have an answer to one of them now.

“hey,” mark says suddenly, voice sharp enough to cut through all your overthinking and analyses. mark’s closer to you now– right next to you, actually, the scent of his cologne filling your nose– and he has your hand in his, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back. “you okay? should i not have said that–?”

you frantically shake your head. “no–! i mean, yes– god, fuck, no, mark, it’s okay.” you take a deep breath, letting your eyes fall shut. “i’m the one who asked. you just answered.”

you take in a shaky breath and let your eyes flutter open to find mark watching you adeptly, his eyes trained on your face. the expression he’s wearing is one of worry, those dark brows of his pinched in the middle to form a wrinkle you so desperately want to smooth out with your thumb. his plush, pink lips are parted, and in an attempt not to stare at them, your eyes fall to the floor, but not before momentarily catching on how his biceps strain against his sleeves.

for fuck’s sake, this is not the time to be focusing on how attractive you find your best friend.

“i wanted to know,” you finally say, voice soft and a little frayed around the edges. your eyes flutter shut again– something to give you a bit of extra courage to say what you need to say, and not cave under the pressure of your nerves. “i wanted the answer to that question. it sounds weird as fuck, and i totally understand if you want me to leave and never show my face around here again, but i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want to know.”

you open your eyes again to find mark still staring at you, eyes jumping all over your face, while sporting an unreadable expression. you find yourself swallowing hard as you steel yourself for what you want to say next, adjusting to sit and face mark completely. “i wanna know a lot of things about you, actually. and none of them are all that appropriate for two people who are supposed to be ‘best friends.’”

it’s mark’s turn to short-circuit.

“w–what?” mark stutters out, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression as his eyebrows shoot up in suprise. his mouth falls agape, opening and closing fruitlessly as he tries to figure out what to say. “i– jesus christ, i don’t think you understand what you’re saying–”

“i know exactly what i’m saying.” your interjection is quick and firm, your expression void of your previous nervousness and now completely serious. “and you know it. don’t insult me like that again.”

mark’s protests die in his throat.

“i want to know you,” you start. “honestly. intimately. fuck, to be honest, i want to see you– naked, in my bed– but i didn’t wanna make things weird, and then you had that whole thing with amber, and then i thought you were gonna date eve, so i kinda just kept it to myself, but–”

“you can know me.” 

you freeze. “what–?”

“you can know me,” mark says again, his hand squeezing the one that he has wrapped in his. “you can know me. and see me. and i’ll answer every other question you’ve had about me, ‘cause i wanna know you too.”

you can’t help but stare at mark , absolutely and completely dumbfounded. if he notices, he doesn’t judge. doesn’t acknowledge it at all, actually. he just continues to steamroll ahead.

“god, fuck, i really wanna know you like that, too,” he sighs. “always have– like, all the way back in high school. i’d see you in the halls with your friends and think, ‘man, they’re hot,’ then move on with my life because i thought there was no way i’d ever have a chance with you. then, we got partnered up for that project, and i learned that you were so much cooler and more approachable than i had ever imagined, and i wanted to make a move on you so bad, but i still thought there was no way you could ever like me. william can testify to this– i was talking his ear off about you 24/7. still do. he is seriously getting sick of it.” 

the way mark talks is fast– so much so that all his words bleed together, voice full of excitement and sincerity. it make your eyes sting. after he finishes, his quick way of talking tapers off into a hefty bout of silence, his beautiful brown eyes flickering down to your joint hands. 

“and then came amber.”

the quiet that follows drapes over the two of you like a blanket, heavy with the weight of everything you two are thinking, but ultimately remains unsaid. the fact of the matter is that it doesn’t need to be said. you and mark just… know– understand– that amber was the first person, aside from you, to treat mark as less of an expendable, and more like somebody worth knowing. she took the opportunities you were too afraid to– penciled her name in where yours was meant to be and slipped right on into that “partner” position, wearing it as if it was custom-fitted. it may as well have been, because it sure looked good on her. 

he looked good on her. that’s why you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad.

“i never would’ve gone out with her if i knew you wanted me even half as much as i wanted you,” mark says quietly, reaching up to rub a tear from your cheek that you didn’t even know you shed. “but i didn’t. and we dated, and i slept with her, and i loved her, but i feel all of that for you too, y’know.” he cradles your face delicately as he climbs up onto his knees, his movements slow, as if moving too quickly would scare you off. moving too quickly would remind you that this is real; remind you that you probably shouldn’t be doing this, causing you to hop off the bed and run down the hall, flying down the stairs, past debbie, and out the front door.

but you don’t have to worry. never have, actually, because the way mark treats you is careful. cautious. he’s kneeling on the bed and easing you onto your back with such rapt attention that it makes your cheeks warm, head turning to the side to shield it from him before he turns your head right back to where it was.

“i want you to ask your questions,” mark says slowly, large hands pushing your knees apart to make room for him between your legs. you can’t help but stare at him helplessly, any and all words dying in your throat, but mark moves with a confidence that makes it clear you don’t need to speak. not when he’s hovering over you like this. 

“i want to answer your questions, and i want you to do the same for mine. ‘cause i’ve thought about you. a lot. and not all of it was decent. actually, most of it probably wasn’t.”

mark lets himself laugh softly at the admission, but you can only look up at him in awe, the muscles of your brows twitching from the urge to knit in confusion. mark’s eyes catch this, and he reaches down to smooth his thumb over the spot right between your eyebrows– the same way you wanted to do for him earlier.

“so tell me that this is okay.”

mark trails his fingers across your skin, skimming over your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder, and all the way down your arm until reaching your hand. he tangles your fingers together and brings your wrist to his lips, a soft kiss being pressed to your pulse, which makes your heart stutter in your chest. mark doesn’t tease you for how vulnerably you stare at him, or for how red his actions make your face. he only looks down at you with a soft smile, peppering kisses to your palm.

“holy shit, mark, this is more than okay.”

mark’s grin is blinding when you surge forward to kiss him.

the thing that surprises you most about it isn’t how good of a kisser mark is, or how nice it feels for his big hands to come up and cradle your jaw. it’s how easy all of this is– how uncomplicated it is to be making out with mark, how your lips slot together as if it’s always meant to be this way, how raw his groan is when you tangle your fingers into his hair and tug. he has you pressed against the bed in seconds, one hand slowly slipping beneath your t-shirt as the other squeezes at your outer thigh. you feel dizzy when your lips part and he ducks his head down into your neck, sucking bruises into the skin with a fervor that makes you squirm.

“i– fuck, mark, not where people can see–!”

“does it matter if it’s visible? ‘s not like you’re fucking anyone else right now besides me.”

you hit mark hard against his back, but it only makes him chuckle, sitting up to look at you with messy hair and blown pupils. “what? you haven’t slept with anybody in a while, and you’re about to sleep with me. i didn’t say anything wrong.”

“how do you even know that, asshole?”

mark grins, sitting back on his haunches as he hooks the hem of your shirt on his index finger. he tugs it up enough to reveal your stomach. “‘cause you’re lying here in my bed, wearing my shirt, with me sitting between your legs. if i was the person you’ve been fucking, i’d definitely feel some type of way about that.”

you scoff, moving one of your legs to try and kick at mark’s chest. like the little shit he is, he catches it easily and presses a kiss to your ankle, setting it on one of his shoulders. “that doesn’t mean anything. i could have casual sex if i wanted to.”

“yeah,” mark agrees, both hands coming to smooth his shirt up the expanse of your body, “you could. if you wanted to. but you don’t, ‘cause you’re not like that.”

“bullshit.”

“is not. here, open your mouth for me.”

“wh–?”

“shut up and open it for a second, would you?”

you shoot mark a withering glare, but he just grins back, pushing your shirt up under your chin and offering the hem for you to bite down on.

“thank you,” he says gleefully, his words a little too airy and sing-songy for you to let slide. you try and kick him again, but he blocks your leg without much of a second thought, eyes laser focused on the sight of your tits in front of him.

“wow, you are so fucking pretty.”

the way he says it is so full of awe– so genuine– that it makes your mouth fall open. the t-shirt in your mouth gets stuck on your bottom lip in the process, and the sight makes mark chuckle, a boyish grin settling on his face. he reaches up to adjust it and pulls it back up so you can bite down on it again.

“i didn’t even say anything crazy yet,” he teases, laughing as you do your best to swear at him from around the fabric. mark ignores it to focus on the sight in front of him instead, though, fingers tracing up your rib cage before cupping the underside of each of your breasts.

your mind goes blank when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“oh, fuck,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed and into his mouth. the t-shirt slips from between your teeth again, and you can feel mark grin around where his tongue swirls around your skin, popping off to look at you and chastise you softly.

“jeez, you really suck at following instructions,” mark playfully says. “and did you forget that my mom is downstairs? i’ve had her knock on the door during sex before, and trust me, it does not help to sustain the mood.”

“god, you sound like such a dork. ‘it does not help to sustain–’”

mark cuts you off with a groan, fingers curling into the waistband of your shorts and panties. “shut up and lift your hips already.”

you giggle. “fine, fine.”

you plant your feet and lift your hips off the bed enough for mark to tug your clothes off, separating your shorts from your underwear so he can tuck the garment into his pocket. You look at him with a flustered expression, mouth dropping open in bewilderment, but mark simply sticks his tongue out at you and flings your shorts to the floor, panties nowhere in sight. you hardly have enough time to process him keeping them for himself before he’s wrapping his hands around your thighs and tugging them onto his shoulders, putting him face to face with your cunt and lifting your lower back completely off the bed.

you knew mark was strong, but you never thought of him using his strength like this.

mark holds you firmly as he busies himself with eating you out like a man starved. those big, brown doe eyes of his look down at you, sometimes lingering on the rise and fall of your chest, and sometimes taking in the sight of your knitted brows and parted lips, both your hands tangled in the pillow behind your head. his eyes do fall shut every once in a while as if he’s savoring the taste of you on his tongue, and he probably is, knowing mark, but you don’t have the wherewithal to tease him. not now, at least. not when he’s got his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking in these sporadic little bursts that make your stomach burn with molten need.

“oh, f-uck,” you gasp, voice cracking on the expletive. in your defense, it’s the only word you currently feel like you know how to say, but mark doesn’t laugh or tease you for it. he just presses a messy kiss to your clit, then slides his tongue down through your folds to circle your hole, slowly and messily pressing inside of you. he pumps it in and out for a few moments, as if he’s trying to fuck you with his tongue, then flattens the muscle and drags it back up to your clit to press into it firmly. you untangle your fingers from the sheets and reach up to swat at mark’s thigh, twisting and turning frantically in his hold.

“oh my fucking god, mark, let go!” your whines are urgent, thighs beginning to quiver on either side of mark’s head. his eyes flutter open enough to look at you through his long, thick lashes, but his firm grip on your waist doesn’t let up in the slightest. his arms tighten around you, keeping your pussy to his lips and your body off the bed as he continues to ravage you like it’s the one thing he was born to do. “mark! ‘m fuckin’ serious– i’m gonna squirt if you don’t let go of m– oh, fuck!”

you realize your warning is a bit late as you feel that knot tighten and snap in your belly, but it would’ve fallen on deaf ears regardless of whether you said it earlier or not. your cunt gushes all over mark’s nose, lips, and chin, soaking the top of his t-shirt and dribbling a bit down onto the bed below. you’d think he’d have a concern of drowning, but mark’s tongue keeps moving as you cum, legs squeezing against his ears so tight that you’re sure he can hear absolutely nothing but his own heartbeat. you know you sure can’t– all you can hear is the distant sound of your own voice, and the way your breathing stutters in your chest, a series of tremors wracking your body so brutally that you’d liken them to an earthquake. 

“shit,” you gasp softly, limbs tingling once they regain sensation. you wriggle in mark’s grasp and he pulls back from your pussy with a pop!, lowering your hips down to the bed as he runs his tongue along his lower lip.

“you said you were about to squirt as if that was going to deter me,” mark says breathlessly, a soft laugh punctuating his sentence. his face is covered with your slick all over his lips and chin, the sun from the window catching on it in a way that makes it glisten. you’re embarrassed by his nonchalance, but it’s hard to be mad when mark looks this good. you did this to him– made his perfectly slicked-back hair disheveled, and soaked his lower face and chest in your cum. normally, you would reply to his quip right away, but right now, you don’t. you’re much too focused on watching how mark leans down to reach behind his head and grab at his shirt, shucking it off in one smooth motion to join your discarded shorts on the floor.

“it was supposed to,” you finally say, voice sounding just as breathless as mark’s. his lips quirk up at the corners, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. instead, he leans over you to open his bedside drawer, and you take that as an opportunity to continue. “didn’t realize i was sleeping with superfreak, over here.”

mark snorts. “i’m just a guy who prioritizes my partner’s pleasure over mine.”

“that’s a roundabout way to say you like to eat pussy. and ass. oh god, mark, you don’t eat ass, do you?”

mark wiggles his eyebrows in response, and you look at him with such a horrified expression that a giggle can’t help but escape from his chest. he shuts the bedside table with a soft thud and leans back over you with a strip of two condoms hanging from his mouth. your brows shoot up at the sight, but mark doesn’t see it. he’s much too focused on pushing his sweatpants and boxers down to his thighs, cock slapping lightly against his abs.

oh. you always knew mark looked good, but this? this is something else entirely.

“you’re staring,” mark says wryly, tearing one of the condoms from the strip, then opening up the wrapper with his teeth. you watch as he pinches the tip and rolls the condom onto himself with a level of precision that screams of practice. if you hadn’t just cum your brains out, you might’ve found yourself feeling a little bit jealous.

“‘course i am.” your reply is shameless, and it makes mark bark out a startled laugh. “you said it was big, not that you were carrying a weapon. now here you are, looking like asian adonis with my jizz on your face, rolling a condom on with the ease of a common whore. not to mention that you grabbed two of them.”

a giddy smile spreads across mark’s face in reply, but it’s not one of his usual ones: it’s bashful. it’s the kind of smile where he bites his lip to force it down, but it doesn’t work, so his bottom lip slowly unfurls from between his teeth. your ears burn bright red at the sight, but mark doesn’t comment on it. mark’s never been good at multitasking, and he’s much too focused on tossing the unopened condom to the side, then tugging you against him by your thighs.

“we don’t have to use them both,” mark says softly, the sweetness of his smile bleeding into his voice. it’s a bit jarring for him to be acting so adorably, like he’s not running his cock along the seam of your folds. the tip catches on your clit every so often, making your breath catch in the back of your throat.

“i like how that’s what you chose to comment on.” 

he shrugs. “didn’t have much else to say.”

“you’re a dog, you know that, mark?”

mark grins at you wickedly, leaning down to lick a stripe up your cheek.

“mm, yeah. ‘m guilty as charged.”

and just like that, he sinks into you, bottoming out in one smooth thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. your eyes screw shut, but you latch onto him immediately, hand shooting out in search of his. he takes it wordlessly, bringing your hand up so he can kiss your knuckles.

“you okay?” he asks tenderly, lips pressed to the back of your hand. you open your eyes, tears pricking at the corners, then nod slowly as a deep breath leaves your nose.

“yeah,” you say shakily. “just been a while. warn me next time.”

mark nods, doing his best not to get caught up on the fact that you want there to be a next time. “sure,” he answers. “sorry. here– put your legs on my shoulder.”

you lift your legs for mark to take, and he settles both of your feet on one of his shoulders like they belong there. then, he shifts forward, shuffling up so that his thighs bracket your hips, which slots him deeper into you than he has any business being.

it makes you feel crazy. you fucking love it.

once mark feels stable in his position, and any remnants of discomfort bleed from your expression, he starts rocking his hips in and out of you at a pace too quick to be languid, but too slow to be considered harsh. whatever rhythm he’s fallen into, it feels good. you’re clawing at the sheets at your sides and behind your head like a madman, that copy of seance dog he lent you long forgotten on the floor, along with everything else you two have taken off. 

“does this answer one of your questions?” mark asks lowly, eyes half-lidded and jaw tight. he’s got your legs pressed to his chest with one hand, the other splayed across your stomach to hold you in place. you can tell it’s not that simple, though; the firmness with which he presses down against your stomach is as if he’s feeling for something, and the realization makes you clench, cunt squelching lewdly around his cock inside you. “did you wonder how i fuck? if i liked it fast? or did it slow?”

in your day-to-day conversations, mark doesn’t swear all that often– at least, not compared to you– but the mouth he’s got on him in bed is a surprise that makes you flush down to your chest. you look up to see mark gazing at you with eyes that are almost black, a bright blush fanning across his freckled cheeks and nose. when he sees you struggle to answer, the gears clearly turning, but no words coming out, he grips your legs tighter and quickens the snap of his hips. mark’s lips fall open with a breathy moan as he watches the way your eyes roll back, and his abdomen clenches with the need to keep his own pleasure at bay. “c’mon, baby. tell me. tell me how you want it, ‘n’ i promise i’ll do whatever you say.”

“i– god, fuck, mark, yes, i wondered how you fucked!” your reply comes out breathy, whiny, and and rushed– a result of you making an actual effort to focus so it didn’t come out as a jumbled, inaudible mess. “i w-wondered if you’d treat me like glass, or fuck me like i had no self-respect. i don’t care what you do right now– swear t’god i don’t– ‘cause i just wanna cum. don’t fucking stop.”

mark huffs out a laugh at how desperate you sound, lips quirking up in a lopsided smile that shows off the cute little fangs he has in the corners of his mouth. he turns his head to kiss one of your ankles, then takes one to put it on the opposite side, making it so you have one leg on each of his shoulders. large, calloused hands slide down your legs and smooth over your thighs before taking your hands into each of his. you’re about to ask what he’s doing, but there’s no time for the words to come out. he’s already gripping both your wrists and tugging you forward, forcing your ass to smack against his thighs with every brutal snap of his hips.

your brain is about to melt out of your fucking ears.

“did you touch yourself?” mark’s asks breathlessly, dark eyes focused on your face. you try desperately to free your hands from his grasp, but your attempts are pathetically uncoordinated. the way his cock is rearranging your guts makes it impossibly difficult to focus. but despite your lack of success, your writhing makes mark tut at you disapprovingly, and he leans forward to keep you in place by resting a fraction of his body weight on your chest. “quit trying to run ‘n’ tell me. did you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you? imagining how it would be?”

mark leans down to lick a stripe up the side of your neck, voice dropping to a filthy, sultry whisper. “‘cause i did. thought about this all the time, what you’d feel like around me. it’s so much fuckin’ better than i imagined.”

you nod your head frantically, hands clenched into fists, and your nails dig so roughly into your palms that it’s a miracle it hasn’t drawn blood. mark isn’t completely satisfied with your response, but he takes it for what it is and releases both of your wrists in favor of grabbing onto your hips.

“if you touched yourself while thinking of me, then show me. play with it for me, hm?”

you don’t need much more coaxing than that.

your fingers fly to your clit at lightening speed, middle and ring finger rubbing in quick, tight circles that mark finds absolutely hypnotizing. your other hand comes up to palm at your breasts, pinching and tweaking at your nipples in a way that makes you whine. mark damn near growls at the sight, a string of expletives you’ve never heard from him before being let out into the ether as he doubles his efforts to fuck you into the mattress.

“open your eyes,” mark demands, his words oozing with a tone you’re very much not used to being addressed with. his voice is low, gravely, and deeply affected by the way your walls squeeze around him, and you find that you quite like having him like this: wrapped around your finger, barely hanging on, lost in everything pertaining to you. the sentiment is definitely shared, because as you force your eyes open, you feel your features pinch the way they do when you’re trying not to cry. it’s nothing bad– far from it, actually. it’s just that mark is fucking you so good that you feel like you’re losing your mind, and the pleasure is so mindboggling that it makes you wanna sob. 

“there y’go, baby,” mark sighs, “just keep lookin’ at me. i wanna see your face when you cum.”

his honest admission shoots straight through you and right to your core, pussy clenching around him tightly, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. mark moans low and long at the feeling, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows hard.

“fuck, i like when y’do that– when you like what i say and you get all tight around me. just– keep touching yourself, pretty. look at me and let it happen.”

all you can do is nod helplessly. mark ducks down to press a kiss to your cheek, fingers pressing what will definitely be bruises tomorrow morning into the skin of your hips. his cock splits you open in a mindbending way, your fingers flicking at your clit so frantically that your hand has become nothing but a blur. 

then, the bubble bursts. your orgasm hits you like a truck, your head flying back, and the muscles in your jaw and neck pulling taut. the same goes for your legs– your knees lock up and your thighs pull tight, shaking with violent tremors as you gush again, this time, around mark’s cock. you do your best to keep your eyes open as you cum, but it’s hard. from what you can see, though, mark’s mouth drops open and his eyes flash with something bright– yellow, even– as he takes in the sight of you falling apart. whatever it is, you don’t give it much thought. your brain is much too fried to be trusting everything you see right now.

“you’re a fucking dream like this,” mark mutters, his tone oozing with awe and disbelief. dutifully, he fucks you through your second orgasm– all the squirming, pulsing, and wetness that’s stained his sheets twice in one night– and holds your unfocused gaze all throughout it before he feels you coming down and abruptly pulls out. your twitching legs drop unceremoniously to the bed, and mark swings his thighs over you to settle over your chest, fingers peeling off the condom and tossing it lamely to the side. all you can see past your wet lashes and teary eyes is mark’s fist moving in an urgent blur before he cums all over your chest, the orgasm hitting him so hard that he has to grip the headboard to stabilize himself. his super strength causes it to splinter just slightly as his legs shake, so much so that he can hardly hold himself up.

his cum paints your tits in hot, thick, pearly white strands, and mark clambers up from over you to lay down on the other side of the bed. you find it unfair, the way that he’s panting and shaking much less than you, but you don’t comment. you just stare up at the ceiling, the sound of your breathing filling the air.

“i hope that was good,” mark says earnestly, rolling lazily onto his side to look at you. you take another deep, grounding breath, then turn your head to look at him. your arm comes out too weakly to swat at his chest.

“there’s no way you just asked me that when your cum is drying on my chest.”

mark stares at you for a moment, then busts out into a fit of laughter, reaching behind his head to take the pillow so he can drop it casually onto your face. you can’t help but laugh too, arms coming up to shield yourself from the pillow, and you toss it back to mark where he catches it, then tucks it back under his head. “fuck me for trying to make sure you’re okay, i guess,” he says dramatically, rolling his eyes.

you flip over onto your stomach and bunch the pillow up under your chin, careful to ignore the wet parts of your chest as you widely grin and quip back. “i just did.”

“more like the other way around. this was me fucking you. into the mattress, might i add.” mark grins mischievously and reaches out to place his hand on your lower back, smoothing over your ass before dipping between your legs to find your folds. he trails his fingers up and down your wet and puffy slit, tongue darting out to wet his lips when he feels you shiver in reply. “but we can go again with you on top if you wanna fuck me. not like i’d ever say no to that. plus, it’d answer one of my questions.”

you’re part your lips to reply, but the sound of feet padding up the stairs, partnered with a soft call of mark’s name, makes you both freeze exactly where you’re at. you look at each other in panic, then scramble to get rid of the proof of what you two just did. mark leaps off the bed and onto his feet with impressive athleticism, tossing you your discarded copy of seance dog that you catch effortlessly with one hand. you tug your t-shirt down over your chest, ignoring the fact that there’s still cum on it you’ve hardly wiped off, and he busies himself with pulling his pants back up and slipping his t-shirt on. the fact that it’s still damp around the collar doesn’t matter– not when there’s much more incriminating evidence like his used condom on the bed, alongside the wrapper and the new one he was about to use on you again ten seconds ago.

you barely manage to get under the covers to hide your lower half by the time debbie opens the door, your shorts haphazardly kicked under the bed, and your panties in mark’s pocket. you double-check to make sure your comic isn’t upside down and open it to a random page, holding it as inconspicuously as possible, right in front of your face. mark’s hands are stuffed into his pants, the condoms and the wrapper fisted tightly in his hands.

“hey, you two,” debbie says sweetly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. you swear, even if you two didn’t look suspicious as hell, debbie would still be looking at you two like she knows you did something wrong. “just came to let you know that dinner is ready. and that you two shouldn’t stay up too late tonight. i’m driving you two back to campus early, so i can get to work on time.”

mark smiles tightly. “okay, mom, thanks,” he says, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave at her goodbye. debbie eyes him amusedly, taking in both of your disheveled appearances one more time before nodding and moving to close the door.

“oh, and mark? it’s been a long time coming, so i don’t mind if you two are having sex, as long as it’s safe and i don’t have to worry about becoming a grandma.”

the color drains from both of your faces, but debbie only laughs, a smile as sweet as her son’s spreading across her face. “but next time, if you’re gonna try and hide it, make sure the panties are tucked all the way into your pocket. i’m not judging what you’re into, but it’s kind of a dead giveaway when blue lace is halfway hanging out of your sweatpants.”

And he couldn’t understand why. The two of you shared friends, classes even interests, but from 7th grade to your junior year of high school, you despised him entirely.

“Y/N…Do you possibly need help with the next problem” Mark noticed your eyebrows immediately knit and felt goosebumps rise on his skin. He’d fought deadly monsters , murderous world ending villains and even his mothers wrath when he failed to do a chore but it all paled in comparison to that look , it managed to activate fear in places he didn’t know were possible.

“The day I possibly need any help from you is the day the gun I choose for my final moment decides to jam—”

“A no would have done wonders.”

“But a ‘no’ wouldn’t drive the point home and kiss it goodnight”

“You ….want me to kiss you?”

“Thank god this isn’t English.”

“Which we have next.” The smug on his face causes you to retract any words you may have wanted to say.

You opened your mouth to respond , your nerves got the best of you but you give him a glare as he beamed at you, satisfied with your defeated silence.

This little thing you had; been going on since late middle school when you just moved into town.

“Aaaand this will be your locker Y/N! The combination is 26-7-“ you were doing your best to pay attention but a class seemed to be making its way back from an activity rather loudly and you failed to catch the last numbers of the combination.

But you couldn’t care less

Time and time again your mother moved you city to city ,state to state but it was all the same , if this were a game you’d be doing victory laps by now. You’d hold the world record for speed running “New Student Simulator” Memorizing new names ,new faces ,new halls ,new classes all at the drop of a hat.

At first you were sensitive to the constant shifts in your environment , but now stripped raw of any further emotions when notified of a move ;you didn’t even sigh you’d anticipate the announcement already prepared to re-pack your belongings in such routine fashion and be ready so early you’d have to left over time to say good bye to place you called home for how ever long you were here.

Luckily the teacher guiding you though the new building had written down the combination before dropping you off at your first class despite it being the 2nd for the other students.

The awkwardness of being introduced to new faces was left behind in the 6th grade. You quickly wave and made your way to the back with no plans to remember the faces you passed.

It being the 2nd official day back from summer break meant you only missed out on seating arrangements and the yearly orientation that included old and new student reminding you yet again how out of place you were everywhere you went, which you were pleased with.

Missing day 1 saved you from the fomo of having to wait til all the friends snuck to pick each other and take what ever seat was left.

The teacher had placed you next to Mark Grayson. He smiled at you from across the room as you made your way to the seat beside him. The seat was already pulled out for you ,which you had watch him scramble to slide it out seconds before.

Your lips barely formed a returning smile while hanging your back pack by it’s straps on the back of your chair.

Your next movement was practically muscle memory; not acknowledging person beside you beyond a half smile— head down laying in your folded arms ,resting on the cold surface of the desk.

As another student passed out the assignment for the day. you feel a nudge on your right arm which you assumed was the eraser end of a pencil.

“So I’m Mark , what’s uh your name again? l didn’t catch it when the teacher said it, my bad”— you barely turn to face him still buried in your arms.

“…Y/N” You hesitate purely because you were taken aback by his effort to learn your name.

“Cool, Cool….-You missed the first day yesterday, but you didn’t miss much Oh- wait maybe you did, apparently there was a fight in gym 4th period between these 8th graders and-“ Mark was basically filling you in on the things you “missed” as if it had any importance.

You wanted to be annoyed , to tell him to shut up but some part of you wanted him to continue his senseless update so you didn’t and just peaked at him through the loose strands of your hair.

“Hey—If we have anymore classes together I’ll let you know what the 8th graders fought over !” Mentally you scoff at the gesture settled on nodding in acknowledging while maintaining your hunched posture.

“Um sure..” Your choice of words got stuck in your throat so a default answer took it's place.

The last time you felt this tightness in your throat was back in the 4th grade when an older kid helped you on the play ground. It was like your stomach was doing cartwheels down a hill. You nearly vomited on his sneakers but through devine intervention he had already ran off before you could do something foolish . Now your brain was already making the efforts to re FORGET the memory.

The assignment was meant to be done with partner and you weren’t exactly looking forward to having to engage to even more with your chatty desk buddy.

Suddenly one of the boys seated ahead of you turned to face Mark.

“Pssst Mark, if I give you the answers you gotta come play catch with us after school today, screw sinus dog-“

“Woah Excuse you it’s ‘Seance Dog’ those words don’t even sound the same dude” who you assume were friends of his seated a few feet away ahead laugh at his weak-aggression, a boy adjacent to you passes Mark a torn piece of paper which you presume have the answers you each seeked. He snatched the paper with rolling eyes with a smirk that hitched your breath.

‘Fuck’

Your eyebrows knitted as you buried your head deeper in your folded arms once again seeking refuge in the temporary darkness. Pencil hit paper with lighting speed and he circled the answers corresponding with the letters jotted down on the note.

“Here Y/N I’m done with it you can use it too , only has to sacrifice an evening with seance Dog to get it” You leaves it next to your paper as you lift your head. Why was he being so friendly to you, you’ve barely spoke to him in the 20 minutes he’s known you yet he’s passing answers to you.

“But why?”

“Why what? Why’s his name Seance dog or.-“

“No, Why are you being so nice to me”

“Why not ?” , a laugh trailed off the childish rebuttal, signing his name at the top of his sheet with a smiley face.

You’re sitting up now, trying every bit you can to conceal the blush that fought to be noticed. To the best of your ability you fill your own sheet of paper.

If it weren’t the fact Mark was talking to his friends ,he’d notice your subtle glances at him. But he turned to you so quickly you nearly jumped yourself

“Do you read any comics Y/N , regardless you should read Seance Dog!”

“Here he goes-“

“It’s good a you guys know it!”

“It’s about a magic dog Mark.”

“Uh no it’s way more than that, What ever , Y/N I have the 1st issue of it in my locker ! I got an extra copy to introduce it to other people, maybe I can give it to you too” the 3 pairs of eyes lay on you , that familiar feeling of anxiety crept up your back and your throat goes dry.

Yet that glowing smile Mark offered you again eased the dreadful anticipation encouraging you to speak.

“Fine I’ll read about the dumb dog” —you shook your head amused at his dramatic expression, in that moment you became a temporary god.

“Oh no he’s got another, don’t fall for his tricks once you read the first issue you’ll be forced to read them all!” The boys laugh at their own warning and turn front facing to continue their previous conversation.

No teasing , no song about you and mark kissing in a tree, no odd looks for taking up his offer.

There you sat bit shocked but relieved , the tedious mini game trampled. You found yourself looking at Mark again ignoring your previous endeavor not do so.

Your lips part to say something but the bell interrupted and startled you. Mark collected his things and then both of your papers and you instinctively reach for it aswell.

“I got it Y/N, I’ll turn it in for you, I know where all my classes but you’re gonna need all the time you can to get to your next class”

“What makes you say that—?”

“Beacuse it’s across the school in the C wing, you’re gonna wanna leave the classroom take a left back towards the mains office then go all the way to end of that hall there you will see the science hall” You take a mental note of the directions but question how he even knew your next class.

“How do you even know I have scienc-“

“Your schedule was sitting on the table between us all period ,Duh . Which also lets me know we have 3 whole classes together! See you in Math”

“Oh , bye I gu-“ You failed to say farewell before he already left you there at your shared seating. You watched him place both papers on the teachers desk along with the other students work.

You didn’t have time to dwell on this you had to go to your next class. But the whole way there your cheeks felt heated you, couldn’t not think about the kind boy you were gratefully placed next to in history especially after he had been so nice to you.

It wouldn’t be the last time either.

A faint groan leaves your body as you slide a hand down your face,that day was so distant yet it left an everlasting impression on how you viewed Mark.

The moment you met you’d knew this was going end poorly so you kept it to yourself. You stayed “friends” , you hung out , laughed together , had many friends in common but you took it upon yourself to draw that line in the sand.

To you , Mark was a ray of light whenever he walked in a room.

To Mark , you. from what you gathered , were the funny girl he’s known since middle school

To imagine anything further would have been ridiculous despite the universe placing you two in situations to suggest other wise.

Your first line of defense ; being as mean as humanly possible. It hurt at first seeing his face twinge with slight discomfort when you’d tease him, gifting harsh comebacks to his compliments.

At times it felt like it was hurting you more than it was harming him.

Luckily, you kept a journal, jotting down all the things you dared not mutter. It was reckless; anyone could walk behind you, or take a seat and see your countless lines of pined devotion. Each entry dated, every poem signed, your biggest secret placed neatly on the dotted lines.

The journal was atleast the length of your hands placed side by side, the cover was black leather with no indication of owner ship and the first page sat a lone Seance Dog sticker that was long over due to be replaced.

But Mark gave that sticker to you so long ago you couldn’t bare or wouldn’t dare to rid the sheet of it’s presence.

It was on the corner of your desk so close to the reason of its existence. Mark always had some proximity to the secret bound notebook.

He’d questioned it once before but the time he placed his hands upon it you freaked out and snatched it from his grasp causing your small group of friends to collectively raise an eyebrow at the action.

You managed to lie and say your therapist (whom you didn’t have) told you it was for when you couldn’t handle your emotions at times ,that it meant so much to you to have a space of your own , losing it would leave you in ruin , so they let it go, following with Mark apologizing for making you uncomfortable.

Back to math ; Mark was focused on the work , he seemed to also be struggling with , which now that that your thinking about it is probably why he turned to you for help

The girl next to him rolled her eyes at you and scooted closer to mark unbeknownst to him. Hannah, she wasn’t a big fan of how you spoke to Mark so she’d ‘ intervened’ where she deemed fit.

He always helped you, but never knew how to ask for it himself. You grab your pencil and reach for his paper.

“Hey- I was getting”

“Sure you were, start here then move on to this part of the equation, you were going to confuse yourself again” You peered at Hannah, already fixing her self back in her seat with a satisfied look on her face almost as if she did that simply to make you act on your ‘rare asks of kindness’ almost like she knew you needed the extra push.

“Y/N, you’re—- a genius where have you been all my life.”

You grew used to his sickly sweet nature , if it had been another time you’d be stuttering and adverting your gaze but luckily you managed to control the surges of excitement that rung in your heart when ever he spoke to you.

“What —ever.” You dismiss the praise continuing to work on your own work.

Between solving equations you look between Mark and his paper.

‘He still draws smiley faces near his name’

Your hand covers your mouth to hid the small smile that couldn’t be contained.

All his little quirks made falling for him inevitable. He still played with his pencil whenever he was stumped on things. Certain corners of his papers slightly folding ,his hands always begging to be busy. Mark still doodled in the margins of his class work even getting scolded from teachers and teased by others ,but you? You’d never

He’d doodled on random things , Sticky notes , receipts , any empty sheet he could get his pencil on. He’d leave them behind like trash, only for them to be your treasure.

You always look around before hand already scheming when he walks off from where the doodling transpired and your fly in swiping your golden ticket. Without lying you’d admit this had only happened 3 times.

One of seance dog , of course.

One of the math teacher with demon horns

And one of —You.

It was a stick figure where you were sticking your tongue out , you remember playfully slapping his arm asking when the hell you’ve ever made that face.

These treasures tucked away in your journal only ever being seen by yours truly.

This crush was killing you softly , but you were ready to die in bliss.

Math came and went, you mark and William luckily had English with Ms.Riverwood together so you wouldn’t be alone with Mr.wonderful in the last period of the day.

You sat at a separate table but the boys were still nearby, close enough to talk at least. Not even William was aware of your conundrum. You did a good job a building a wall around yourself. There were times He’d laugh at your mean comments towards his own best friend and there were others he winced at the remarks.

In this period you’d get more of an opportunity for air, ever since you met this boy you’d been unintentionally attached at the hip.

Every year you’d share a majority of your classes, Mark was always there. If only he knew how you felt. Would he laugh ,would he distance himself? Would you lose the first genuine friend you ever made all because you failed to control yourself.

You weren’t about to risk it. Mark was too good to lose because of silly teen age hormones.

On the odd chances your English teacher was too tired and swamped with grading to teach , she’d instruct the class to write about anything , everything which would be used as extra credit towards your final grade.

You always write romantic stories about random couple and your teacher would encourage you to read them for the class.

But these kids have seen you cuss out men twice your size ,to suddenly serenade them with words you’d only whisper to yourself under your covers would be acting out a nightmare in your own behalf ,so you’d always turn her down.

Work was done fast as usually and you reached in your bag to get your little black book.

You freeze , the spot where it’s usually tucked away in your bag, vacant , your heart practically dropped to your ass.

‘No fucking way.’ Did you really leave it in math class—

You jump from your chair and made your way to your teachers desk. She raises an eyebrow behind her frames surprised you of all people stood before her in urgency.

“Ms.Riverwood I really need a hall pass”

“Y/N? what’s wrong ? Class isn’t out for another—20 minutes or so. ”

“I um—“ You lean in closer and lower your panicked tone to a whisper. “I left something very important in the Math wing could I go get get it? Please” She’s hesitant for a second before realizing what it was referring to.

She only knew of its existence because youd left it in her class many a time for safe keeping.

“Alright , no need to take a pass , homework will be online , hurry but don’t run.”

“Thank you so so so much I’ll stay after tommorow and help grade papers — anything” You rush back to your seat getting a look from a few students confused by your rush to leave. William looks up from his work noticing aswell but you were already making your way out the classroom to see Mark had noticed you nearly run out the room too.

‘Please be empty , please be there’ At first you were speed walking but then grew to a full sprint down the hall to your previous class.

The room was empty and luckily unlocked with no math teacher in sight and no book to be seen. The brewing anxiety in your chest made your heart pound, part is you was trying to convince yourself maybe your math teacher had the book in his possession

But the other part started making you think of the others who could have found it —Or worse if Mark would find it.

‘Lost and found’

You remember your math teacher Mr. A, saying once before he doesn’t like a messy room and will deliver any items left behind to the lost and found. The squeaks of sneakers were faint to your ears as you dashed to the lower level of the school. A few students moving to avoid colliding with you as you.

Finally you made it down the hall where lost and found would be. You slow down being grateful for the lost time you made up for but stop in your tracks at the echos of laughter nearby.

“Yo, ‘His eyes burned with an auburn hue in the summer’ ? This is so fucking cringe”

“LOL who wrote this shit bro.”

You knew that phrase, you commonly referred to his eyes in that exact manner.

A group of kids has already discovered your book, your delicate heart burned with its own humiliated flame. You clench your jaw ,gripping one of the straps on your book-bag , trying to catch your breathe.

You weren’t about to let them belittle you this way, you muster up enough courage to walk over but find it hard to mask the rage boiling beneath your skin. There were 4 students surrounding the window in the wall deemed the lost and found , one of which was a hall monitor given the atrocious yellow sash they had to wear. Despite the alarms bell blaring in your head you approached them determined to retrieve your prized possession.

“Since when are we allowed to go through people stuff down here? Give me that journal-“

The boy holding your journal shuts snaps it shut in his palm cutting you off, proceeding to wave it in the air.

“No shot this belongs to you! You’re a fucking weirdo, I should really turn this in to an admin.”

“Girl this is next level creepy , this is shit they’d use as evidence in those true crime documentaries” At this point your face was definitely turning a scarlet shade from a mixture of rage and embarrassment.

To think you were just dwelling on possible exposure; talk about subtle foreshadowing

“It’s mine and you’re going to give it to me. My names on the first page signed ‘Y/N’ in bright glittery blue ink please just- give it back” a strong sense of fear hid anoungst at your demand.

“You write this creepy shit an- are you seriously about to cry over this?” They began to laugh at you as you tried to stay composed.

Time was running out and you needed to get this back before irreprehensible damage was done to your ego.

“Guys If she said give it back, give it back.” You spun around like a deer infront of headlights.

Mark came to what he presumed was your rescue to find you nearly to tears and at the point at exploding all at once. You tear your eyes from his and back to the group of students, some continue their laughing other giving mark a look of great disdained.

“Dude Mark if you read this shit-“ “I don’t need to, give her the book back you guys are being dicks” They share looks yet again and the same boy tosses the book your way which you manage to catch and hold so close like a raft in rushing water.

The hall monitor looked between you then Mark and was quick to pick up on the correlation to why you were so panicked when he approached.

“Wait— Mark you know Y/n?” She asked with a hint of guilt in her one , her friends continued to make jokes between each other.

“Yeah ,since middle school why?”

Who ever this chick was seemed to be the only one able to pick up on the true meaning of the book but you were quicker, You grabbed Mark by his arm and practically drag him away from the group of students who began to question the one girl amoungst them that figured it out but she told them to shut up and drop it .

You were a safe distance away at this point and their voices faded quickly deeper in the hall. Your head was hot and your chest was so tight it felt like it would rip through your skin at any second.

What if he found out right there infront of those ass holes what you were really there for. Your senes were still horrid, you didn’t realize how fast you were walking or how hard you were holding onto Mark.

“Wait. Y/N —slow down”

“Y/N!” Your head snaps up with mark now holding your arm. You hadn’t realized you were back in the English hall too. Each part of you was burning.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I didn’t follow you sooner-“

“Why were you even there?“ You’re unable to face him , it was impossible to wrap your head around what had nearly happened .

“Why not? If I hadn’t been the-“

“I could have handle it on my own ,Mark” The barrier preventing you from meeting his gaze vanished and anger took the wheel.

“I didn’t call for you I sure as hell I didn’t ask for you to be there, I’m a big girl Grayson I could have-“

“But I’m your friend Y/N-“

“I didn’t ask for you to do that either” Your quickly realize what had you had said and in that moment you see a face you’ve never seen him conjure before; genuine hurt. Mark swallows taking a step back while tucking a hand in his pocket and the other reaches to rub his neck. Students who had left class early whisper as they passed by.

“Ouch”

“Wait Mark I didn’t mean that I’m so sorry-“

Before he can say anything the final bell rings. Tears prick in your eyes , his hurt turned to concern and Mark attempts to reach for you but you pull away clutching your journal even closer to your heart.

Jesus ,He looked like you kicked his dog. When your eyes met a few tears fell and you fully turn away from him and head towards the nearest exit before anyone else could see you like this.

Mark watches you vanish into the incoming swarm of students , images of your damp face still fresh in his mind. He just stood there as kids told him to move , he remained still until William lightly shoved his back pack in his arms chest.

“Mark What-happened? Y/N left then you left..? Now- you’re here and Y/N isn’t.” Mark looked at him for a moment then back to the direction he last saw you.

“I—Don’t know..”

Instead of taking the bus along with your friends, you choose to walk. Clinging to the binded heart hidden on your arms. Amidst your trudge home you felt vibrations buzz against your thigh. You stop and grab your phone reading the messages left behind by your friends.

William ? where do you go ? Are you alright . Text me back

Jess Uh babe, you missed the bus ;(( you good? call me < 3

Loser Are you okay? : ( I'm sorry if i messed up , Call me or dont. I'm really sorry Y/N

You feel tears again but your phones chimes once more and your grip grew tighter on the edges of the device when you read the last message

Loser You’re always going to be my friend ‘Nickname’ even if I’m not yours… Ttyl

‘Friend’

That’s all you’d ever be to him.

How much longer were you going to run away from this, how much more could you keep up the charade, to masquerade this aggressive persona to keep him at bay, avoiding him wasn’t enough , the violence cascaded in your words only did damage.

He’d have to cease existence before you’d even attempt to grasp the concept of living beyond the pages you sought refuge in.

You hurt him all for the sake of protecting the fantasy you decorated pages with. Bur he was the sending you texts of apology.

The time you put into each sequence of words couldn’t replace what stood before you.

It was going to burn right through you and you would let it

You awoke to the aroma of food in your room. At first, you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, for starters, how you wound up tucked in bed to smelling your favorite breakfast. It was too specific to accept as mere coincidence, down to the tea you brewed every morning. 

On the other hand, it was nice to be greeted with some normalcy for once. In a few timid steps, you approached the table covered with food. You were eager to place both your palms on the porcelain to enjoy the heat it emitted against your skin. 

You brought the mug to your lips and softly blew on the liquid like usual. The tea was the perfect temperature, almost like it had been brewed specifically to be prepared when you rose from your slumber. The familiar liquid warmed you up, mellowing the madness from yesterday.

 Even if it was brief, you felt like the last few days never happened. Hopefully, you'd find it in yourself to eat despite the pit in your stomach. 

. 

The door was right there, but it wasn’t; it seemed like you were free to leave the false sense of freedom and control taunting you. 

After letting your food go down, you wander around the empty room, examining every inch since this was your new home for the time being. There was what you guessed was furniture around the room, like a blueprint of what could have been a room. Empty 

You made your way to the foot of the bed and slid to the floor, resting your head on the soft silk as your lower half felt the chill of tile against your skin. In your newfound cage, you dozed off. 

You had no idea how long you had been asleep, the door appeared, and it was Mark. 

He hovered over your sleeping form like the previous night and observed you. His hand brushed the fallen hair over your eyes, causing you to stir. Mark tore his hand away. Unaware that his presence had awoken you, your eyes met naturally for the first time. Miraculously, you weren't shaken. You couldn't tell if he was apologetic upon your awakening or annoyed at your lack of awareness.

"I'm sorry. I guess I fell asleep waiting." You sheepishly looked at him while placing yourself on the warmth you left on the bed. Mark remained standing, composed as you nervously played with the hem of the white shirt that swallowed your figure.

 "What were you waiting for?"

"Well– I don't know. You put me here, and the only thing I can do is— wait.." regretting the subtle attitude. He had no reply;  his eyes and mind appeared elsewhere

"Do you wish to explore? I will accompany you. But only for a bit. I have a schedule, but I want to offer this at the very least." Of course, you wanted to jump for joy, but how could you?  He teased you with freedom like a dog waiting for its owner to open the gate and remove the leash. 

“Where to-?”

“Out”

“ ‘Out’ where-?” 

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose, followed by a deep sigh, already over the childish antic. 

 "Just Be dressed in 10; stand near the frame. It’ll open, and I'll be right there waiting—" Once he turned his back, you playfully grinned, swearing he stomped out of the room.

You looked around the room at the giant white furniture you assumed was the wardrobe. This being the first time you open it, you find clothes; they were all an orderly mix of white and grey. Given the decor, what were you expecting? 

While you scanned the many articles of clothing, you ran a hand over the fabrics, finally deciding on a long, dark grey maxi dress fitted with long sleeves, and a pair of black slip-ons.

Surprisingly, the shoes fit perfectly; The dress, however, clung to the upper half of the body like a second skin, but luckily loosened mid-thigh. The fabric hugged your curves and breasts, fitting your measurements exactly, the only discomfort being within yourself, particularly since a bit of your chest was exposed. With one more look at the closet– it hit you; They all share a similar design. 

You look at the white T-shirt you previously wore with a new sense of appreciation. Biting your tongue, you move on to the next objective: taming the unkept monster resting on your head. Your hair was a bit wild, but you collect and contain the terror in a messy ponytail. Sections of your hair fell and framed your face, but that's how you usually kept it anyway. You had already washed off the night before, so all you had to do was wipe your face and be on your way. 

"This is utterly ridiculous." You hugged your body and examined the final product in the mirror. You were about to enter a new environment dressed in the most revealing thing you'd ever worn with a guy you barely knew anything about.

Even without a clock, you could tell your 10 minutes were nearly up, and it was too late to think of a plan right when the outline of the door emerged from the wall. You tried to cover your chest, failing miserably.

"What is taking you—so long?" 

He stood in the cut of the doorway scanning your body up and down, landing on your flushed face. You expected he’d say something in retaliation for the encounter before– but he didn't. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, wanting to disappear. You turned, shying away from his reaction, frozen by humiliation and fear. 

Although Mark only got a glimpse of your face, the small amounts he did manage to see took his breath away. 

It wasn't a very well-hidden secret that you were uncomfortable, but it's not as if he chose this for you. Seeing you miserable in that outfit filled him with guilt.

He grumbled and made his way past you and to the closet left ajar. Still not knowing, his gaze was still on you, only now roaming your exposed back. If you hadn't pulled away, you would have caught the blush that dusted his cheeks as he searched deeper in the closet. 

"Put this on." You peeked over your shoulder to see him holding a large grey cardigan while turning away. 

"It's not ideal to walk around like that. I apologize if you're— uncomfortable. I didn't—" 

"It's okay. Really, and thank you." You smiled at him warmly, appreciating that he quickly understood your discomfort.

" It's alright…" You say a bit softer, wrapping yourself in the sweater. 

The cardigan was a bit too big on you, but Mark knew that's how you liked to wear them anyway. He had no idea his staff would fill her closets with clothes like this, That being said, he couldn't deny you looked lovely. It wasn't Mark's intention to keep putting you out of place, despite initially being for your own good. 

Mark hoped this habit of staring at you would go unnoticed, but his icy gaze was already so ínstense. The chill of his heavy stares gave you goosebumps. How could you understand what he was thinking, what he wanted to say, you could barely guess his next move. The last thing you'd ever imagine was that he'd easily storm in and solve your dilemma. It was a simple act, but significant enough to lighten your chest. 

"Shall we go then before it's too late?"

 "Too late?” 

"Before I must depart for other activities?" There's no way he'll be able to admit, it, but it's because he has other women to attend to—not yet, at least. He hoped to enjoy every second of every minute he had with you.

The walk to the outside was rather far, but you didn’t mind. Everything in sight was white and neat. You saw many other people, different shapes and sizes; if it weren't for the uniforms, you'd assume you were home. Your gut told you to keep your eyes on Mark's back as he led you carefully through the halls. 

You knew they were all looking– you felt it, reminding you of your displacement, sticking out like a sore thumb. Out of place.

You both made it to a large windowed portion of the maze-like structure. The entire corridor was laced with sunlight. 

Upon entirely existing, you saw an open field untouched by vegetation other than lush grass covering the vast Tierran. It was breathtaking. Untouched and clean. Earth had sights as such, but this was different; something strange radiated off the land. Its beauty made the odd sensation somewhat bearable. 

Mark led you to the pasture, his hand still intertwined with yours, holding on like you’d slip away at a moment's notice. 

The air around you shifted, and time had stopped to capture this moment before you. The softness of his eyes as he peered over his shoulder, the positioning of the sun floating behind him, and it’s light surrounding the outline of his figure. You vaguely saw a faint smile painted on his lips as he watched you take in the scene before he directed his focus ahead of him. The taller grass tickled your calves as you matched his pace, but your heart— reigned victorious as it’s rhythm out ran your feet. 

“Y/N..?” He called again, not realizing he’d been calling for you. You lick your lips anxiously, relieving the dryness from the surrounding space that left you in awe. How had you been so distracted that you hadn’t noticed you were no longer holding hands, now further in the field?

“Sorry.” You look at the ground, trying to relax your nerves. 

“Sit with me,” was all he muttered, which came off more like an order than an invitation. You're hesitant to take his extended hand, but before you can decide, he sits first, takes your hand, and guides you into his lap. 

You’re tense, afraid to move wrong in your own body. 

You wince when your back connects to his chest, still sore from injury, causing you to jerk forward. Due to your reaction, He pulls in with more caution, adjusting your seating to bring you comfort. 

“Please, just be here with me.” His breath tickles your neck as he snakes his arm around your form. You almost melt into the touch. How could you forget your situation so quickly when presented with this weak display of affection? 

But he embraces you so delicately, almost scared to break you, he seems like a different person, lost in the crook of your neck. It’s almost like he’d yearned for this ‘connection’ you shared. 

If this were somewhere else, with someone else, this would have worked on you. 

Yet when the wind kissed your exposed skin, you began to doze off in your captor's arms. Mark could feel your muscles relax against him, and he held you.