#mark taun scenario

[yeoldontknow]

Kilig

Author’s Note: happy birthday @imdifferentshadesofpurple <33 i love you so much. i know weve been talking about this fic since christmas and ive not been able to work on it. but its the mark of your dreams and i love you! mork <3 ↳ Kilig (n. Tagalog): the unstoppable sensation of joy or elation experienced when intensely, madly falling in love; the sudden feeling of inexplicable joy when something romantic occurs Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader (oc; female) Summary: You’ve weathered so much in your relationship with Mark, and still he makes you twitterpatted. But when you’re moving in together, and choosing the right home to start your life, you start wondering if things will ever feel the same again. Genre: fluff; romance; domestic au Rating: PG-13 Warning: implied sex Word Count: 2,554

For as long as you’ve known him, Mark has told you he loves you with all of him.

The ways have been endless and numerous, sometimes imperceptible to the untrained eye, but for you, they have always been obvious.

It started with this eyes, the way they would find you in a crowded room, seeking you and your shape as a comfort. Without looking, you could feel them on you, a sensuous sort of touch that called you to him and made your skin hurt wherever he was not felt. And when you did dare to meet his gaze, let yourself fall with him, it was the way they were open wide and swimming. Too many colours seemed to pool and gather in his irises, bewildered by you as he was and taking on all the light in the world just to see you in perfect focus.

Then, it was his lips. This is when the ways became both simple and complex, a paradox of sentiment that took you weeks to untangle. His tongue seemed to handle the word differently, gave shape to love as though he were sculpting a monument meant to outlast humankind. To him, the word was delicate, though it was only a fragile thing when it was given to you, asking you to hold it with him, and to cherish it. He spoke the word like it were feathers, but he kissed it on you like wildfire, reckless and with abandon, and demanding that you burn with him.

On you, there was not a single place his lips did touch or taste, greedy in the way he consumed you and unforgiving in the way he weathered you down.

Lastly, came his hands. The holiness of his hands washed over with delay, slowly and overtime, and without the dedication of your thought. Only when you realized he touched you as though you were something sacred, gentle but with the whole of his hand, did you think back on all the ways he had handled the totality of you. In the early days, he clutched your hand as a cross, fingers to your knuckles and unwilling to be parted from you. The flat of his palms rested against your cheeks as he kissed you, holding your head and holding you to him, fending off the oncoming separation with prayers against your skin.

But these were nothing to the way his fingers traversed your spine, your thighs, your breasts, tracing scripture into your pores and hoping they etched into the bone. Nightly, he carved commandments into you, let his love spread until his name and his essence was a mark upon your ribs. It was the same for him, you knew, the way your hands gripped his shoulders and slithered down his back as he moved in you - your touch had been sweared into his spine, a permanent reminder at the base of his cerebellum that dictated his choices, his thoughts, his speech.

You called this unity. He called you his soulmate. Together, you knew it was love.

For as long as you’ve known him, Mark as told you he loves you with all of him.

But now, searching for a home in which you will start your life, the love he gives seems only to be directed towards you and not your future, and you don’t know whether to be offended or exhausted.

Choice was never his strong suit, backing away from options with raised hands and a cock of his eyebrow. It is not that he didn’t have opinions, it’s just that his were never as loud as others, and so he never learned to argue. In choosing you, he is vocal, adamant and determined, and his perpetual choice of you, he felt, absolved him of all the rest.

You thought, perhaps, this would change after four failed house showings and one apartment, each more special than the last. But with each, he seemed only to withdraw further, shrugging at things you felt were important and being vocal about insignificant things, unremarkable things that could be changed.

Today, on your fifth house showing, he stands in the living room admiring the design on the ceiling with a scowl. Arms crossed, he furrows his brow and pouts his lips, aloof and somewhat bored.

‘Mark.’ You say his name in the hopes of bringing him back to you and receiving his focus, but instead his gaze remains fixed. ‘What do you think of the mantle?’

Unmoved, he sighs before speaking. ‘Do you think the circles were what they wanted?’

Thrown by his question, you blink at him before raising your gaze. ‘Probably? It’s in the final design, so I’m sure it was approved.’

‘It just looks so unfinished,’ he muses, turning to assess the design behind him. ‘Like wouldn’t they have wanted squiggles...for a ribbon.’

‘We can ask the development manager…’ Your statement fades as you search the pamphlet handed to you at the door, seeking a name. On each page, housing designs and templates greet you, all modern and extravagant, and with customizable kitchens. It says nothing about the ceiling.

‘I’m not saying we have to change it,’ he says, turning to look at you with a small, half smile. ‘Just would be hard to change if we wanted to.’

Briefly, you glance between Mark and the ceiling as you chew the inside of your cheek. Handling Mark when he’s like this is delicate, not because he is tempestuous nor volatile, simply because matching his aloofness will lead him to believe you are not serious - about this home, or any. One, poorly timed comment will send you back on another search and, while it is not that you are serious about this home, it’s merely that any home with him would suffice. And thus, this search has been overwhelmingly tiring.

Every home you have seen has been beautiful, modern, and delightfully within budget. This is a rarity, a magical experience in which choices are abundant and all are wonderful, and so you would be happy with any if he were happy at all. Instead, he’s placid, unmoved by any one house, liking things in one and hating the same in the other, difficult only because he maneuvers around choice.

But this is the first time he’s used the word “we,” implying an us in the space and a future existence. And so you are careful, clutching this word to your chest and hoping it does not sprout wings of hope.

‘Is this,’ you begin slowly, taking a step towards him, ‘something you would want to change?’

Shaking his head, Mark keeps his expression even and placid. ‘No,’ he says, simply. ‘Just saying, it’s hard to change.’

With a sigh, you close your eyes and count to ten.

Staring at the door to the master bedroom, rather than viewing the room’s size and scope, Mark hums. ‘These doorknobs are brass.’

From your position in the entry to the en-suite, you turn your head and regard him. Hands shoved in his pockets, he looks a little lost, and you hate that it makes you smile. ‘Yes,’ you offer, keeping your voice neutral, ‘but that’s much easier to change than a ceiling pattern.’

Mark glances up at you, somewhat aghast.. ‘Why would I want to change these?’

Once again, you find yourself dumbfounded. ‘Brass tarnishes easily.’ Pressing your finger into the knob, you pull it back after a moment to reveal the very clear impression of your print. Satisfied, you regard him patiently, as though this should be enough - the clear display of finger oils eating away at the smooth texture.

‘It gives the house character,’ he says, finally, still studying your fingerprint.

And this is what does it, what sends frustration and irritation to the center of your throat like bile. ‘These give it character?’ There’s a sharpness in your voice you know you will soon come to regret, but the way it feels on your tongue is a release you did not know you wanted to caress. ‘Not the mantle and the enormous fireplace?’

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, eyes searching your expression. ‘When have you ever seen brass knobs in a modern house?’ he tries, tone playful in the efforts of keeping you calm.

But still, you do not give in. He’s had so much of you, you think, and it is unfair he keeps this stage of your life at an arm’s length. ‘These give it character?’ you snap, fully rooted in your anger. ‘Not the mirror over the kitchen sink that faces the picture window to the yard.’

Taking a step back to fully appraise you, he regards you with a soft, worried expression. ‘What’s this about?’

‘Not the crown molding or the built in bookcases?’ you continue, unable to stop now that the flood has been unpinned from your lips. ‘But these, the ugly brass doorknobs, give it character.’

Several seconds pass in which you savor the silence, so unlike the quiet that usually falls between you. This is not the calm silence of knowing your lover enough to know their thoughts, the comfortable silence of partners in which words fail and somehow seem insufficient. This is the silence of realization and understanding, the silence of awareness that this may be your first real fight, and while it would never be enough to break you, it is enough to remind you that love takes commitment, even when commitment is hard.

‘Hey, what’s -’

Mark’s words are cut off as you spin on your heels and walk briskly out of the house.

Immediately, you know it will not be this one, and as you push through the front door a spiteful laugh rises from your throat. At least one choice has been removed, though it is not because there was any particular flaw. Sadness constricts your chest, and you are unsure if it is because you did really like this home or if it is because you have liked all the others, too, and you are unsure you will ever find a home with Mark or if he is just coming with you for the ride.

‘Baby.’

The deep intonation of his voice makes you release a heavy sigh, eyes wide as you cock your head back to stare at the sky.

‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

At once, you feel him behind you. His eyes, and now the heat from his existence, attuned to it as you are, as though he were magnetic.

‘No,’ you shake your head, keeping your back to him. ‘I’m mad at you.’

At this, he laughs, the sound rich and full, the chocolate you always find yourself craving, and it takes work not to turn to face him, and to see his skin in the sun of high noon.

‘You can be mad at me, but I’d like to know what you’re mad about.’ He takes a few steps towards you, his head radiating into your back. ‘I think that’s only fair.’

Keeping your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to turn or see him because it means you will cave, you sigh. Crossing your arms, you scowl, pretending he can see you. ‘It was your idea to move in together.’

‘I know.’

Digging your heels into the earth your purse your lips. ‘So why don’t you want to?’

‘What?’ he asks, sounding alarmed.

The worry in his voice is real, surprised, and you know you have been unfair. He doesn’t know he’s being difficult, almost never does - so self-aware in every instance except for this - and it’s cruel of you to let him panic.

Turning to face him, you see the way his hands clench at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for you. Still, you hold your ground. ‘You fight every house and find random things wrong with it, or pick the most bizarre things just because you don’t want to be involved in the choice.’

‘You think that’s what I’m doing?’ he asks, cocking his head to the side in concern.

‘Isn’t it?’ you laugh in disbelief. ‘You do that with dinner. You shrug every time I offer a choice and you tell me to pick. You let me pick what we watch on Netflix -’

‘But I like what you pick!’ he exclaims.

‘Okay,’ you shrug, shaking your head, ‘but I don’t want to choose anymore.’

‘That’s fine!’ Mark’s laugh is airy, unlike its usual texture. ‘I can pick the next show we watch.’

‘No, it’s not Netflix!’ You don’t mean to shout, but you’re tired. Tired of feeling like you don’t have a partner, and sick with the feeling that, somehow, you don’t have him. ‘It’s everything. I don’t want to be alone in choosing our home.’

At your words, he blanches, the colour fading from his skin even in the sun. ‘You think I don’t want to pick a house?’ he whispers, delicate in the way he handles his words.

‘Clearly, you don’t.’

‘I can see how it would come off that way, and I’m sorry.’ At once, he reaches for you, unable to hold back the need to touch you. He gathers you into his arms, burying his nose into your neck to take the smell of you in, deep into his lungs. ‘Really, I am. I thought you knew.’

‘What are you talking about,’ you murmur, immediately letting your guard down at the feel of his muscles beneath your hands.

Pulling back just enough to see you, he cradles your cheek with his palm. ‘Picking the house is so...not a concern of mine.’

In protest, you open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off.  

‘Listen!’ he laughs, eyes wide and imploring you to be calm and to be patient. ‘Picking the house is not a concern because you are my home. As long as I’m with you, I am home. We could be in a hotel or a shed or a mansion, I don’t care. Okay, maybe I care about the mansion because that’s a crazy electric bill, but I don’t care where it is as long as I’m with you. I found home a long time ago, so when I bring up random things on house showings it’s because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Your heart is my home, and it’s the only place I want to be.’

Once more, silence falls between you, but this is the silence in which he tells you he loves you with all of him. The penetrative way he holds your stare moves you, makes you feel him once more taking root in your heart, holding it with his palm instead of your cheek. Silently, his lips shape the words “I love you” over and over, until he stops to smile, knowing that your soul has heard him where your ears could not. And last, he keeps you in his hold, hands burning with the knowledge that being separate from you is painful, terrible, and like this you know he is right.

Neither of you are truly at peace without the other, and so it should not matter what roof shelters you, for you will always shelter each other.

‘Goddammit, Mark,’ you laugh, pressing your face into his shoulder.

‘What now?’

‘You got me so emotional, I’m considering the brass knobs.’

[capaimagines]

mark tuan - fate

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader | Genre: fluff | Warnings: none | WC: 2.5k

You sighed as you let your best friend pull your hair in all different directions, “You’re gonna make me bald with how hard you’re pulling,” You glared towards your friend who offered you a bright smile in return as she pulled even harder.

“Shut it! It’s our high school reunion. We have to stand out and look hot,” You rolled your eyes at her words. You were not looking forward to this reunion and you honestly preferred to stay in, “Besides, Yugyeom said Mark will be there!” Your friend teased with a smirked, wiggling her eyebrows as you rolled your eyes.

“That was years ago idiot, I don’t like him anymore. It was just a stupid high school crush,” You defended yourself as you listened to your friend scoff.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. I’m sure that's why I hear you moaning his name in your sleep and you haven’t been able to keep a steady relationship in years,” She said looking your way to see you shoot her a glare through the mirror.

“Exactly,” She smirked at your response. 

You groaned, slumping your shoulders, “He never liked me that way, so it’s better to just let it be!”

“You don’t know that Y/N. You never asked him back then,” She scoffed as you did your best to brush everything away.

“Not everyone can be like you and Yugyeom,” She smacked your shoulder as she threw the most scandalous dress towards you. 

“Shut up and put this on and I swear to god if you mess your hair and makeup up in the process you’ll end up in a wheelchair,” She threatened.

“Whatever,” You scrunched your nose up at the threat before moving into a change room and putting the plain black dress over your head. It was definitely cute, a little skimpy and not usually your style but so what? You didn’t have anyone to impress. You looked great. 

Hell, you didn’t even want to go. You were just content with sitting on your couch and eating junk food until your eyes forced themselves closed. It’s not that you didn’t like parties, you just didn’t have many friends in high school. You only had your best friend who is still by your side to this day, she had introduced you to her group of friends. They were all boys and you were surprised but they were all funny and if you were being honest, it was what made your four years bearable.

Then there was him. Mark Tuan. The hottie of the school at that time. He was tall, handsome and funny. He was the sweetest and while he had a resting bitch face, he was one of the nicest people you had ever met in your life. You and Mark had gotten close pretty quick and all throughout your high school days you two were practically glued at the hip.

It wasn’t a secret to any of your friends that you had a crush on him and you had crushed hard. Although, you could never bring yourself to tell him. It was the little things he did like, pick you up and drive you to school, walk you home if it got too late. Brought you meals and made sure that you ate well, helped you study. He even would stand up for you when you were being picked on, even when it was just teasing by your shared friends. 

Unfortunately for you, it had only ever stayed that way, a crush. At some point you had realized that you were quite in love with the man you called your best friend. You never thought he would feel the same way, so you distanced yourself. You started replying to his messages less and less, avoided him in the hallways until eventually you all but disappeared from his life. Not by his choice, of course.

Your friend wasn’t wrong when she said you couldn’t hold a steady relationship. You had tried to move on, thinking it would be easy since you had moved away to college and were no longer in contact with him, but you were wrong. You always found yourself comparing your dates to him. He would pull your chair out for you but they wouldn’t, or how he was patient with you and knew when you needed your space but the others couldn’t seem to tell unless you screamed in their face.

Now you were going to see him again, tonight for a few hours just to have those feelings come back to full force. There was a pang in your chest as you painfully reminded yourself he didn’t harbor those same feelings for you. You slipped the heels on, waltzing out of your room, ready to just get this night over with and then come home and plop on your couch and eat your sadness away.

“You look hot, mama” Your friend winked at you as she shoved you out the door. 

You laughed, shaking your head. “What would I do without you?” You sighed, dramatically and she chuckled, climbing into the driver's seat.  

“Wallow in self-pity on your couch and most likely live in sweatpants and leggings.” She teased and you chuckled, agreeing with her.

Her and Yugyeom had started dating only your second year of high school and had been together ever since. They were utterly in love with each other and you were surprised that he hadn’t popped the question yet. The two of them lived together and he had been the only one from the group that you had kept in contact with. You were happy for her albeit feeling jealous as well. You just wished you would find your person like that.

“Here we are! Let’s go!” Your friend squealed as she jumped out of the car and you smiled at her excitement and realized why she was so popular in high school. She was pretty and bubbly. Everything you weren’t. As you two walked towards the doors, you felt the anxiety rise to your stomach, maybe you should wait until she was taken with Yugyeom and then make your way towards exit.

You showed your tickets, taking your nameplates and walking in to find your table. Thankfully, you were sitting with your friend and Yugyeom and BamBam. You had dearly missed BamBam. He was hilarious, never failing to make you laugh until you thought you were going to puke.  

“Damn, Y/N!  You look hot.” He winked as he pulled you into a tight, much needed hug.

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your charm.” You chuckled as you sat down. Unfortunately for you, the other two people at your table were the two who seemed to pick on you the most during high school. You frowned as BamBam left to go grab drinks for everyone.

“You really haven’t changed much, Y/N,.” One of them said.

“I see you haven’t changed much,” You rolled your eyes but immediately froze when you heard that voice.

His voice. You stood up on shaky legs and turned around with a smile plastered on your face. You felt the butterflies in your stomach and your heart rate sped up. He looked even more handsome than he did back then, if that was even possible. His black hair was swept back, and he was dressed in button up and black pants. He had dress shoes on and his smile took your breath away, just like it did back then. Dark brown eyes were still just as warm and as gentle as you could remember.

“Oh! Hey, Mark!” It was the girls that were seated with you and you rolled your eyes, not before offering him a small smile. You saw him frown as the two approached him, taking a step back to put distance between them.  

“You look so good! Are you married? How have things been? You remember us, right?” They batted their eyelashes and squeezed their boobs together to try and catch his attention. You snorted, turning around and sitting back down.

“I remember, actually I wanted to catch up with Y/N. Maybe we could chat later?” He said sweetly and you heard one of them scoff.  

“That loser? She’s got nothing going on in her life, Mark. Besides, you were attached at the hip in high school. Don’t you think it’s fair to give us a chance?” Just by her tone of voice you knew she was batting her eyelashes.

You rolled your eyes, getting up and stomping away. You needed another drink. Sure, maybe you weren’t the most accomplished, but you had just graduated and were still waiting for a job opportunity in your field. You may not be married or have kids or have a fancy car, but you were comfortable with how your life was right now. It was simple and easy, unlike here, where it was anything but. Only to serve as reminders of just how much of a loser you actually were.

You gulped your drink down, feeling the alcohol warm your stomach. “Are you still a light weight?” You jumped at Mark’s voice. Turning around to face him with wide eyes.  

“How’d you escape the two bimbos?” You asked and he shrugged, smiling at your weak jab at them.  

“I just walked away, to be honest. I don’t even remember their names.” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh and it was like music to his ears.

As you gathered yourself, you failed to notice his eyes traveling up and down your body.  You looked just the same as he remembered, maybe a little taller but not much. Your black hair was in some fancy updo that he knew you would have no way of knowing how to do. The black dress came down to your mid-thigh and he noticed you had pulled it up a little more to cover your cleavage. He couldn’t help but smile at that; you were always modest.

“You really look great.” He said quietly and you felt your cheeks heat up before offering a small thanks. “I take it Lisa dragged you here?” He asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the makeshift bar counter next to you. 

You scrunched your nose and nodded. “Of course she did, semantics and all that. She really just wanted to get me out of my apartment I’m sure.” You said and he chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Still the same old Y/N,” He chuckled.

You shrugged, mocking offense. “I like how I am, thank you very much.” You threw your head up in the air and added a little ‘hmph’ to it. He chuckled again, shaking his head.  

“I like you too.” You froze for a moment, feeling your heart rate pick up and your cheeks heat up. There’s no way he could’ve meant it like that, “You wanna dance?  I wanna see if you still have two left feet.” 

You collected yourself and rolled your eyes, scoffing and taking his hand and dragging him to the dance floor. “Some things have changed, Tuan.” You sneered and he raised a brow, egging you on.

“Prove it.” You froze as his mouth was right next to your ear and you shivered when you felt his breath hit your skin.

“Stop flirting and just dance, Tuan.” You huffed and he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.  

“I can do both.” He said nonchalantly and you looked at him, confused again. “Why would you flirt with me?” You asked.

He looked at you like you had three heads, “Really, Y/N? You’re not that dense.” You looked at him, still clearly confused and he pinched the bridge of his nose before returning his hand to your waist and dancing around with you. “I like you.  I’ve liked you for years, but then you stopped talking to me and I thought you just didn’t like me anymore.” You felt your breath hitch, staring wide-eyed in shock at the man in front of you.

He liked you? For years? Since high school? There was no way that Mark fucking Tuan liked you. No way, not a chance. You refused to believe it.  

“Don’t joke with me, Tuan.” You quivered out and he shook his head, grabbing your chin with his hand and forcing you to look into the swimming pool of brown in his eyes. All you saw was love and fondness and maybe a little bit of fear. Mark Tuan? Scared? Never.

“I’ve liked you since high school, but I was too much of a pussy to tell you.” The tips of his ears turned red and he finally let go of your face, averting his gaze to the floor. You smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you cupped his cheek with your hand, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. He looked at you in shock, cheeks burning red as his fingers traced where your lips just were.

“Well, Tuan. I’ve liked you since high school too.” You smirked and he smiled wide, brighter than you ever saw before. It probably beat out the cheap disco ball they had hanging from the ceiling.  

“You wanna get out of here?” He questioned as he nodded towards the exit and you quirked your brow, “I know you hate these things and honestly, I only came in hopes you’d be here.  Let’s go to your house?  Pizza and junk food and bad Netflix movies?”

You smiled brightly, nodding your head furiously, “Sounds like a perfect first date.” He chuckled, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together, pulling you towards the door. 

“For the record,” He said as you got into his car, “This is one of many dates. I’m not letting you run away again.” You laughed as he closed the door and got into the driver's seat, taking off towards your place as you gave him directions.

That’s what you two did for the rest of the night; ate pizza and junk food, you changed out of your dress and into your sweats and t-shirt and him finding a pair of Yugyeom’s stray shorts lingering in your friends room and a t-shirt, slipping it on. You had your head on his shoulder as you shoved chips into your mouth and he smiled, nudging your head and making you sit up to look at him.

He kissed you, his lips almost fitting too perfectly to your own as you smiled before kissing him back, reaching your hand around to rest on the back of his neck. You both only pulled away once oxygen was screaming to enter your lungs. Breathing heavy, forehead against yours, Mark looked at you with the same fondness that you’ve always seen in his eyes.  

“Be mine? Girlfriend, wife, fiancé, whatever you want. But be mine?” He asked and you felt your cheeks heat up again, before smiling ever so brightly..

“I’m expecting a better proposal, Tuan. So, I’ll settle for your girlfriend for now,” You chuckled as you initiated the kiss this time. Everything felt right, like everything was finally in place.

[im-whatchamccallit]

Risking It//Mark Tuan (Got7)

Part 2|Masterlist|Rules

Request: YAY I’M SO EXCITED THAT YOU’RE BACK!! I hope you’ve been well (: I’ve missed you and your writing! May I request a college boyfriend Mark Tuan story! You can write it about whatever you want I just love the idea of Mark as a college boyfriend he gives me those vibes. Please make it fluffy and smutty if you’re feeling adventurous ;) Hahaha thank you so much! Have a wonderful day 😁😁😁

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader

Genre: College! AU, fluff but mostly smut (sorry, the hoe in me took over)

Warnings: sexual content (oral sex, fingering, mentions of overstimulation), kinda poorly written because I’m scatterbrained and couldn’t find a perfect concept lol

Words: 3.9k

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to focus on what your professor was saying, writing notes from the words she spoke in fear it’d be on a future pop quiz, but you couldn’t focus with the pair of eyes boring into you. You were trying to ignore Mark but he refused to look away, wanting you to look at him as he sat by idly at your teacher’s desk.

You weren’t sure what to expect when Mark was announced as the TA for your class, but you didn’t expect him to be, well, himself. You figured he’d try to be professional and fair, giving everyone equal amounts of attention and help whenever necessary, instead he’d always find his way to you, cracking jokes and even flirting. You were doing extremely well in this course, not needing the extra help which upset him a bit, so during times when he couldn’t talk to you up close, or text you in case your teacher saw, he’d stare, hoping to have a silent conversation with you to ease his clingy nature. But you weren’t catching on, his lips threatening to form a pout as he looked away.

“Mark.” His head snapped upwards as your professor called him, his body standing as he waited for her instructions.

“Can you hand out the graded test please? They’re on the corner of my desk.” He nodded, mentally cheering as he prepared himself to speak to you for the first time today.

Despite your professor speaking, you tuned her out, watching Mark anxiously as he went to each person, congratulating those that did well and telling others they can retake the test another day to salvage their grades. You were nervous. You weren’t as confident in this test as you were others and the idea of getting anything less than a 100 made you want to cry. You couldn’t even find ease in the way Mark was approaching you, the smile on his face might be because you did well or because he just wanted your attention, your mind screaming for it to be the former.

Mark gently handed you the booklet like test, your eyes immediately landing on the 98 that sat on the top of the front page, the pressured feeling in your chest not leaving even as an audible sigh left your lips while his hand rested on your head, causing your eyes to meet his.

“Good job.” You couldn’t help but give a small smile, finally giving him what he’s been wanting to see all day.

“Professor Ahn,” One girl, Yeeun, spoke up, everyone’s attention falling to her as she stood.

“Considering your TA is the one who graded the test, and is also (Y/n)’s boyfriend, don’t you think there’s a bit of bias on his part?”

The way she looked over at the both of you as if she had won some battle didn’t sit right with you, your eyes narrowing into a glare while Mark only smirked, continuing passing out the test as your professor sighed heavily.

“Ms. Shin, Mr. Tuan made me aware of his relationship with Ms. (Y/L/N) the day he arrived, which is why I personally grade all her test myself. In other words, the score (Y/n) received is not only valid but the only one to reach over 90% in this class, so I suggest you focus on your own grades instead of worrying about those two.” Mark wanted to laugh at the way she sat down in such a defeated state, scowling at the 73 on the paper as if it were a nuisance.

Professor Ahn repeated Mark’s words, reminding everyone that retakes would happen for the next two days during her free periods and after school before officially dismissing everyone, your body moving a bit slower than everyone else so you were left behind, Professor Ahn heading into her personal office just behind her desk while you approached Mark, his face in a cute pout.

“You didn’t look at me today.”

“I was nervous.” You responded, reaching to cup his face before bringing him into a soft kiss, pulling away before he could take it any further.

“What’s your next class?” He asked, reaching for your hand to lead you out of the room.

“I’m actually done for the day. And, I know you’re free too, so I figured we could just hang out.” The look you gave was hinting to something that could only spell trouble, yet he was hoping it was exactly what he was thinking, his lips forming a smirk as he stepped closer to you.

“Alright, and just where are we heading exactly?”

“I’ll give you a hint; we’ll be at my place, in my room, on a desk.” He didn’t waste a second dragging you down the busy halls, that hint more than clear for him to understand.

Yet he didn’t understand. Well, it was more like you tricked him.

By ‘on a desk’, he was hoping for something with you laid out beneath him with a lot less clothing involved and more x-rated touching. Instead, you were still in the baby pink high waist skirt and white sweater you wore for class earlier, the once seemingly normal and innocent outfit driving him crazy now, the only touching he received were pokes to the temple of his head whenever he read a question from your graded test unenthusiastically, obviously bummed by how the situation turned out. To think not scoring a perfect 100 would bother you so much that you’d make him study with you until you were ready to retake the test.

“Come on, the faster we do this, the faster I can learn what I got wrong.”

“(Y/n), you don’t need to retake the test. You have the highest score of your class, professor Ahn said so.”

“Yeah but what if someone retakes it and does better than me?”

Mark sighed, knowing how stubborn you were when it came to your grades, but he didn’t like the competitive side of you that came with it. He admired your persistence, but watching you drive yourself crazy over something so miniscule was heartbreaking, like when your calculus 3 teacher refused to let you retake his quiz and you couldn’t do anything but cry for days because that was your hardest class and you knew you could do better. But how could he force you out of a habit that he admittedly fell in love with? It was a complete contradiction.

“(Y/n),” you shifted your gaze from the notes and test in front of you to look at him.

“What are three cyanobacterial species?” Your eyes wandered from him, so many words crossed your mind, trying to find the right answers to the sudden question.

“Nostoc commune, nostoc punctiforme, and nodularia spumigena… I think.” You said slowly, watching Mark pull the packet open and flip to the third page, showing you the exact question he asked, an ‘X’ right next to your answer.

“The reason you didn’t get a perfect score is because you missed this one question. You didn’t get it right because you’re always freaking out. But now that you know the answer, and know that you always panic at the idea of not doing well; do you think it’s wise to retake the test and aim for a 100, only to possibly freak out again and end up with the same score or worse?”

You wanted to argue with his logic but it was reasonable, and he was right. You were freaking out for nothing and were honestly surprised you hadn’t dropped dead from all the stress you had, wanting to laugh at how ridiculous you’d been. Mark noticed you staring off into space, probably still scolding yourself like you always do. He didn’t mean to kill your confidence, but what else could he do to make you snap out of your “no mistakes allowed” tunnel vision?

“Baby,” He called, your eyes finding him once more, noticing his arms open and waiting for you to settle into his lap, which you did without hesitation, his hands cupping your face so you couldn’t look away.

“I know you’re smart, and that you could get a perfect score if you tried harder, but you can’t always push yourself like this. It’s okay to not be the best and, sometimes, you’ll learn there are people out there that are the best of the best and you can’t compare.” He said, your lips curling upwards as you released a giggle.

“That was such a backhand compliment.” His laughter mixed with your own, hands easing from your face into your hair.

“Yeah, I could’ve worded that better, but you need to relax. Stressing yourself out won’t make you perfect. Okay?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling a little disparaged but knowing he meant well, truly worried for you and rightfully so. You were a hard ass, you knew that and just couldn’t help it. Maybe that’s why you loved Mark, he was responsible yet relaxed. He had it all figured out and, even when he didn’t, he was nonchalant until he did. It was one of the traits you wish you could take from him and have for yourself.

“Okay, then show me what I should do to relax.” You said, a smirk similar to the one you gave earlier on your lips, his finger darting out to poke you in the center of your forehead, a stern look on his face.

“I should just leave and make you take a nap for tricking me into studying with you. But I have manners, so get on the bed.”

You eagerly climbed out of his lap and followed his orders, removing your top on your way there, not wanting to waste any more time. As you watched him approach you with his eyes taking you in hungrily, you couldn’t help but think of the position you were in.

He’d be busy for the next two days helping students from Professor Ahn’s four classes retake their test. Her other three classes held 60 or so students, a little over double the amount of your class, and the likelihood of everyone from the other classes failing was damn near impossible, but her course was hard so it’s a good possibility almost half the class would want a retake, and thinking of potential students from your own class doing the same, that’d mean Mark and Professor Ahn would have roughly 110 test to grade by the end of the two days. Even if they split the grading load in half, Mark would be busy days later helping her while simultaneously maintaining his own grades, meaning the two day period you thought nothing of would really be four to five days of barely being together, so you were going to bask in this moment.

“(Y/n/n),” Mark called, gaining your attention.

Your eyes darted towards him and noticed he was between your legs, face close to your heat that was now exposed as he tossed your panties away not too long ago, your skirt bunched around your waist as he patiently waited for you to answer, hoping you weren’t uncomfortable and suddenly having second thoughts.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just realized it’ll be a few days before we can be like this again.” You admitted, unconsciously placing your hand in his hair and stroking it softly. It was still pretty soft despite bleaching and dying it so many times.

“Think about it this way,” He started, placing a small kiss to your inner thigh, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you tried to resist the urge to close them, his lips ticking your skin as he continued moving closer to your core.

“Everything I do today is a precursor for the next time I come over.”

You wanted to make a snide remark to keep your banter going, but the way his lips finally connected with your folds made your head spin, any thoughts you had were gone as the foreign yet very familiar and dearly missed pleasure hit you. You can’t remember the last time Mark went down on you, your schedules leaving the both of you available for only quickies in unoccupied classrooms just to make it to your next class on time. But taking the time to go slow and actually savor the pleasure was making the experience a million times better, any memory you had of his tongue being buried within you was replaced with this moment, his tongue taking it’s time to taste you as if you were the best meal in the world.

“Mark,” You breathed out, his head moving back just slightly so his tongue was visible, your eyes locked on the way he teasingly flicked it around your opening while staring straight at you, expertly dragging the pink muscle up to your clit before covering it completely with his lips sucking harshly so that you cried out.

He knew exactly what he was doing and what buttons to push, taking two fingers and rubbing them along your slit to lubricate them before easily sliding them inside, your body nearly jumping away at the feeling. He felt you contract around him, surprised that you might already be so close considering he just started, but that only encouraged him more, his mind running with the thoughts of exactly how long he could make this last and how cute you’d be once you were completely spent from him actions.

You were gripping onto Mark’s hair desperately as your other hand held onto your pillow for dear life, your back arching at the familiar motions of his fingers, simultaneously thrusting into you while drumming against your g-spot, sending small waves of gratification through you. Those little jolts were enough to distract you from Mark moving up your body, kissing from your belly button to your bra cladded breast, his free hand slipping beneath it easily to toy with your nipples, already so hard despite the fact he had only begun stimulating them.

You struggled to crack your eyes open, looking at the man above you as a breathy whine interrupted your seemingly endless moans. His eyes were concentrating on each contorted muscle of your face before finding your eyes, smiling softly at you as if he wasn’t pinching and rubbing at your breast while using his fingers to scissor your pussy. Any words you wanted to say came out almost like squeaks, your hands speaking for you as they moved to his chest, slowly trailing down until they reached the slowly growing, but clearly there, bulge in his black jeans.

He watched in amusement as you impatiently undid his pants, tapping his thumb on your clit to watch you freeze momentarily in an attempt to regain your composure. He was like a sadist but the humane kind. Mark couldn’t help the groan he let out once your hand slipped into his boxers, wasting no time stroking his member at the same pace his fingers moved into you, his eyes squeezing shut as his face dipped into your neck, teeth sinking into your shoulder to control himself from going any further. The juices you let out were making such lewd sounds, and the harder his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves just above your entrance, the more your hips rolled into his hands and your walls tightened around him, actual words finally leaving you as you let out a soft ‘please’. It was all becoming too much for him, but he didn’t want to give in just yet.

“Mark,” You called out to him again, his head finally lifting to look at your face. Even though your eyes could barely stay open, your lips trembling as you whimpered pathetically and your breathing labored, you looked amazing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently, slowly bringing his fingers to a stop to allow you to speak, the bubble of pleasure you felt fading away.

“I want more. Please.” You continued to pump his cock from inside his briefs, the urge to fuck himself into your hand hard to ignore as your thumb played with the beads of precum leaking from his tip, your hand working faster knowing he was so close to giving you what you wanted.

Instead, he reached between your bodies to grab your wrist, reluctantly pulling it away from his throbbing and needy member and bringing it up to examine it, precum visibly sticking to your thumb and palm.

“I’ll give you everything you want, but you have to be patient.” He warned you, reaching for the hand resting on his chest to bring them above your head, holding them in place so that he could get back to his main objective.

You wanted to scream as he began to move his fingers again, not starting off slow like he usually would but going knuckles deep, his thumb now finding a good pace on your clit as well. It was clear he was trying to get you off first. It wasn’t uncommon for him to let you get your release before him, but this felt different, weird even. He was rough but precise, your g-spot being hit no matter how deep and fast his appendages plunged into you. And the pressure on your clit wasn’t helping either, only making the strange feeling increase.

Your back arched as you moaned loudly, unsure if your roommate was even home but you couldn’t care less about that now, your legs kicking against the bed as if you wanted to escape the way his hand was fucking you but so curious where this feeling was leading and just how good it’d feel. Mark’s cock twitched at the sight of you, every time your hips lifted from the bed he’d see a wet spot forming from the juices dripping from your cunt and his hand, making it obvious that you came already but he wanted to see you orgasm, knowing you were close as you incoherently cried out, begging for him as your thighs clenched together in an attempt to slow him down even though you didn’t want him to stop.

“Look at me.” He said in a soft voice yet stern enough to remind you it was a demand.

You shyly faced him, vision hazy as you focused on his features. You felt his hand leave your wrist before creeping down to comb through your hair, easing to the back of your head and pulling you into him, bringing your lips to his to capture every sound you made. If it wasn’t the way his hand continued to assault your core as it convulsed violently, or the way his teeth nipped at your bottom lip in the middle of your heated make out session, or even the way he pulled away to speak filthy words to you to encourage your release, the thin line of self-control and submission you were walking was gone, your body falling fast and hard into the latter.

Mark’s fingers dug into your scalp to hold you in place, a few moans escaping his throat as you clenched around his digits, pleasured cries falling into his mouth as you no longer focused on your kiss. Your lower half jerked almost painfully, his fingers slowly moving into you to draw out your release, his face pulling away as he felt a bead of your orgasm rolling down his fingers and palm and onto his wrist, the once small wet spot now a puddle beneath your body, your fluids leaving the room and sheets a distinctly sweet smell.

You shut your eyes in relief as Mark finally pulled his hand away, trying to catch your breath as he moved from the bed. You could feel the stickiness on you, your thighs closing to keep the cool air from hitting your sensitive core, the sound of your skin pulling from the sheets making you cringe. No wonder it felt so weird, you squirted for the first time ever and, now, your mattress was ruined. You were contemplating if you should just rest now in your own filthy release or properly clean everything, not having time to form an answer as Mark climbed above you, instantly connecting his lips to the shell of your ear and your neck. You turned to look at him, noticing his pants and boxers were off, his rock hard dick on display between your bodies.

“W-wait, I don’t think I can do that again.” You admitted, your face hot at the thought of being overstimulated, Mark’s gaze meeting yours. His eyes were so dark and clouded, your core unwillingly pulsating again with arousal despite your words.

“If you need me to stop, I’ll stop. I did promise to give you whatever you want earlier.”

The room fell silent as he waited for your answer, your eyes looking away in embarrassment as you opened your legs for him, cursing yourself for being so needy despite what happened only a few seconds ago. Mark smirked and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, easing his body forward until he was poking at your entrance, preparing to thrust into you but not before he spoke in a definite tone.

“I’m going to make sure you’re too tired to think about the retest and, if I even see you going to take it, we’ll do this all over again.”

And it was a promise. You knew Mark never bluffed, especially when it came to sexual rewards and punishments, so you could do nothing but take those words to heart. Although the next day, after dragging your sore body from the soaked bed you both were too exhausted to flip, and getting ready as normal, you crept your way towards Professor Ahn’s class.

It was her second free period of the day and currently Mark’s accounting class, meaning there would be fewer students there for the retest and he would be out of sight and out of mind. You slowly crept into her classroom, looking to the twelve or so students working silently, Professor Ahn nowhere to be found.

You knew she’d never leave a class unsupervised during a test, so she was most likely watching from her office to see who would or wouldn’t cheat. She was clever that way so it only made sense.

You eagerly headed to the door, knocking gently before hearing an uninterested ‘enter’.

“Sorry for disturbing you Professor Ahn, but I was hoping I could do the retest to-“ You froze.

Professor Ahn and Mark’s eyes left the test and answer sheets around them to stare at you. During her first free period, over sixty students came, leaving your professor overwhelmed at how much grading she’d have to do if she waited until the last minute, her first instinct was to call her TA in for help which he easily accepted, knowing that missing one class wouldn’t hurt him. So the two sat in the once comfortable silence, grading roughly thirty test each. You thought you had it all figured out but didn’t plan for a random setback like this, and neither did Mark, his eyes boring into yours despite you trying to avoid his gaze.

“You were planning to do the retest, (Y/n)?” Professor Ahn spoke up, dropping her red pen and searching for a clean copy of the test from the folder next to her, your eyes widening as you frantically shook your head.

“No! No, it was nothing. I’m sorry for stopping by like this.” You said, preparing to leave but the call of your name from an eerily calm source made you stop, an inaudible whimper leaving you as you turned back to your boyfriend, a seemingly sweet but truly sinister smile on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

You were fucked, pun intended.

[markjinnology]

If Got7 was to flirt:

Jaebum: I like you.

Mark: Can I sit beside you?

Jackson: You need to stand by me, someone as pretty as you needs to be protected.

Jinyoung: Are you alone?

BamBam: Can I call you mine?

Yugyeom: You're pretty.

Youngjae: Do you like Messi?

[im-whatchamccallit]

Hii, I was wondering if there would be a part 2 for got7 mark tuan's "Risking It" one shot? I really enjoyed reading it:)

Sorry anon, but I think imma leave it as is for now 😔

Jk, I’m working on part two once I get off work lmao. I’m so glad you enjoyed it 💖

[markjinnology]

Yugyeom: Have you ever experienced a moment of epiphany?

Mark: Yeah

Yugyeom: What was it?

Mark: When I realized art is Jinyoung and Jinyoung is art.

Yugyeom: