#phone calls with strangers are scary i get it but i am not a stranger! you know me i will not bite

[throesofincreasingwonder]

I hate texting and I think it's the worst form of communication actually. This could've been a five-minute phone call.

[catladyoftheyr]

★彡[ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴍᴇ, ᴍʀ. ɢʜᴏꜱᴛꜰᴀᴄᴇ!]彡★

𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓵!

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (18+ only, SMUT)

Note: idk this is set on Halloween and i wanted to put it out then but shit happens lol. 2 am Nov 2 is better than never sooooo

Summary: You arrange a spooky threesome with Satoru and Suguru 👹 (the focus is them railing you but there is bits of m/m action)

Warnings/kink highlights: mentions of stalking (no actual stalking occurs), scary phone calls, mask kink, rough sex, threesome, they get a little fruity with it, mmf threesome, Eiffel Tower/spit roast??, cream pie, unprotected p in v, cum eating, face sitting, blowjobs/face fucking, light exhibitionism, moments of sex acts on camera, degrading language.

Word count: 1.9k

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You and Gojo had been toying with the idea of a threesome for a while. Satoru was normally the jealous type, but when you’d brought up the idea of your 3rd being his best friend, Suguru Geto he’d responded with surprising enthusiasm. You’d teased him about his man crush before but hadn’t realized he’d be willing to take it this far. You weren’t going to complain though; Suguru was incredibly handsome, with long dark hair and a muscular physique. Gojo had reassured you that he’d plan the whole thing, allowing it to be a surprise. You gave him a few fantasies to run by Suguru and decided on Halloween for the date.

Flash forward to October 31st and you were starting to think that Gojo had forgotten or found himself wrapped up in work. You sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and flipped through the channels aimlessly. You paid for cable and there still was never anything to watch. You saw your phone screen light up with an unfamiliar number. “Hello?”

“Are you home alone?” A low voice responded on the other end. It sounded suspiciously familiar.

“Satoru? Is that you?”

“Answer the question. Are you home alone?” The voice was gruff and impatient.

“Alright alright. Yes. I’m home alone.” You hoped this really was Satoru and you weren’t playing along with an actual psycho killer on the line.

“Good. Truth is, I already knew that. I’ve been watching you tonight. And so has my friend. We know you’re sitting on the couch and watching a shitty slasher film. And that you’re wearing a tiny white t-shirt and little black shorts.”

“Satoru, you're scaring me. Knock it off!” You had goosebumps on your arms and the voice in the back of your mind was wondering if the stranger on the phone really was Gojo or Geto, or if you were in real danger. The line went down and a cold chill went down your spine. You looked over to the glass door and saw two figures wearing Halloween masks dressed in all black. You let out a startled scream, knocking over the bowl of popcorn and dropping your phone as well.

The men in the doorway knocked on the glass and you saw them remove their masks, revealing their identities. Satoru and Suguru were bent over laughing hysterically at their prank. You opened the door and allowed them to enter.

“You guys aren’t as funny as you think you are!” You scolded them, fighting back your own grin.

Satoru flashed a cheesy smile and pecked your cheek. “I dunno, babe I think it was pretty funny.” He elbowed Suguru who was still laughing.

“You really should have seen the look on your face” Geto piped in. Their laughter was infectious and you couldn’t hold in your giggles any longer. You playfully swatted at them for the mean joke and wrapped yourself around Satoru.

“Can we take this to the bedroom, Mr. Ghostface?” You whispered in his ear.

“Lead the way and we’ll follow” he murmured back. You grabbed each of them by the hand and led them up the stairs to your bedroom. Once the door was shut firmly behind you, you began to eye the pair up and down. Sugurus' long hair was undone, falling down his back and shoulders. His muscles were prominent through his t-shirt and you could tell his cock was stirring in his pants. You bit your lip and ran a hand down Geto’s stomach, feeling every one of his abs.

Gojo was impatient to taste you and pulled you over to him for a kiss. He gripped your ass and let his tongue enter your mouth. As you kissed you felt Geto press into you from behind, sliding your boyfriend's hands onto his own ass. Geto kissed the top of your head as he ground into you. You were sandwiched between the two men and felt their cocks firming up on either side of you. Satoru was grinding into your sex from the front, and pulling Suguru closer to you as well. You could feel the other cock pressing against your ass.

You weren’t short by most standards, but the two men still stood at least a head or more taller than you. Satoru broke your kiss, pulling Suguru’s lips to meet him. They kissed above your head, still pressing against you like bookends. Geto’s hands trailed up your body, finding your breasts and groping at them. You moaned into Gojo’s chest and hugged him close.

Soon you found yourself on your knees, having been undressed to just your bra and panties. The two men stood nude in front of you, each stroking their cocks while they stared down at you. You caught the discarded masks laying on a side table out of the corner of your eye and grinned mischievously. “Wait. Put the masks back on. Please?” You looked up, blinking big doe eyes with your request. They soon obliged, and you felt yourself grow hot between your legs.

You took Geto’s cock into your hand, barely able to wrap around its girth, and began to stroke while you bobbed your head on Gojo’s tip. You alternated sucking and stroking each of them for a while, until Satoru grew impatient and grabbed a fistful of your hair. He pumped you up and down on his cock, bottoming out in your throat with each thrust. You were caught off guard, gagging on his length. You looked up and swore you made eye contact through the mask, feeling his blue eyes boring into yours as he fucked your throat.

“Don’t be a hog, Satoru. It’s my turn” Suguru interjected. Geto replaced Gojo’s hand with his own, thrusting your mouth onto his cock with no warning. His was girthier than you were used to and you felt your jaw might unhinge as you took all of him. He moaned lewdly as you struggled to take him, clearly enjoying the sight of your eyes beginning to water. He held you down on the base of his cock for several moments, leaving you gasping when you came back up. “Such a pretty girl. I love hearing you choke on these cocks. Such pretty sounds.”

“Stick your tongue out, slut” Gojo suddenly commanded. You did as he asked and he slapped his cock on your tongue and cheeks. You realized he’d pulled out a camcorder from a drawer somewhere and the blinking red light indicated he was filming. “The camera loves pretty sluts like you, baby”

“Show us your tits,” Suguru interrupted, tugging at one of your bra straps. You reached behind you and unclasped it, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. Your nipples grew hard in the cool air of the room, and Geto pinched one of them lightly between his fingers. You didn’t have time to react before Satoru was shoving his cock down your throat again. The two men played tug of war with your throat, constantly pulling you toward themselves and away from the other.

Suguru lay on his back as you lowered yourself onto his face, mask discarded to allow his mouth access to your cunt. His tongue searched for your clit, sucking and licking the small nub voraciously. You gripped the headboard as you rode his face. You slid as you ground down, completely coating his mouth in your slick. Suguru gasped and moaned against your pussy and you turned to see that Satoru had taken the other man’s cock into his mouth. Suguru’s hips bucked up and the vibrations from his moans sent waves of pleasure against your clit. You were close to orgasm and began to ride Suguru’s face in earnest, grinding down against his mouth focused only on bringing yourself over the edge. “Fuck! I’m cumming-“ you cried out as your orgasm burst through your body.

You lifted yourself off of Suguru’s face and lay beside him on the bed. Satoru took notice and pulled you onto his cock, sliding into you from behind as you rose to your hands and knees. “Fuck, Go. Feels s-good” you slurred; still coming down from the bliss and sensitivity of your orgasm. Suguru’s cock was leaking precum and still standing firmly at attention. The dark haired man seized the opportunity to slide his cock into your mouth again. You could barely form a coherent thought as you were being stuffed with cock from both ends. The two men found a rhythm, with one thrusting in as the other pulled back. The steady seesaw motion was building up a second orgasm deep in your core. You could tell that both men were close to their own first release as their thrusting became faster and more erratic. Satoru dug his nails into the flesh of your hips, pounding into you fast and hard.

“Fuck, baby. You take this cock so well. You’re such a little slut, taking two cocks at once.” Gojo’s banter continued, the words enhancing the sensation of him pounding against your g spot. Geto was silent except for lewd moans and the sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Soon he gripped your hair with both hands, holding you down against his crotch as he flooded your throat with salt. You swallowed diligently, feeling Gojo’s cock twitch before he too filled your cunt with his own cum.

Despite having just orgasmed, both cocks were still rock hard and you too were eager to allow them to switch places. “You already lubed her up for me” Geto remarked as he slid his tip against your slit.

“Hope you enjoy second place, I’m already the best cock she’s ever had” Gojo teased back, slapping his cock against the tip of your outstretched tongue. You couldn’t have anticipated Suguru’s next move as he dipped two fingers inside of you, gathering Satoru’s seed on his fingers. Suguru popped the fingers in his mouth and made a show out of sucking them clean, complete with lewd mouth sounds and a clear pop! As he pulled them out of his mouth.

Gojo’s eyes glazed over with lust and he mumbled obscenities under his breath as he pumped his cock into your mouth. You gasped as you felt Suguru’s cock breach your entrance. His considerable girth took more than a moment to adjust to, every inch leading to a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. You moaned against Satoru’s cock in your mouth as Geto finally bottomed out inside of you. You’d never felt so full in your entire life. He pulled back slowly before thrusting back in. Once you grew accustomed to his fit his pace quickened and he was slamming his hips against your own.

“So tight, darling. I bet it feels so good to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” Suguru smiled as he talked dirty to you. His words were calculated to get a rise out of Gojo, who’s response was to thrust into your mouth even faster, tightening his grip on your hair. The mix of different sensations was overwhelming as your second orgasm broke through. The only thing keeping you upright was being stuffed with cock from the front and back. The muscle clenching down on Suguru’s cock elicited a loud groan from him as he approached his peak. He thrusted faster as he slammed against your g spot, eventually gushing cum into your cunt. Gojo pulled out of your mouth and immediately thrusted inside of overflowing pussy.

“Fuck baby j can’t help myself: it’s so hot when you’re overflowing with cum. A good girl like you can surely take one more load, can’t she? You’d been flipped onto your back and were laying between Suguru’s legs, head resting on his chest. He kissed you deeply as Satoru groaned, pumping one last load into you. He pulled out and sighed; the three of you collapsed into a pile of post orgasmic bliss in each others arms.

[limethefirst]

Let me hear you SCREAM

pairings: Ghostface (Billy Loomis) x Reader

warnings: violence, killer is after you, mentions of blood and getting cut, crude language

summary: after getting a strange call from a random number you decided to humor man on the other line, unbeknownst to you the man seems to have other plans

a/n: in honor of spooky season I’ve decided to write a silly little story because I’ve seen a lack of Billy’s ghostface fics on here adios 🫡

'RING RING RING' The sound of the landline echoed through the empty house, its ringing drowning out the movie playing on the TV.

It was around 11 pm and your mother was still at work leaving you alone for the late night hours. You continued to listen to the ringing of the phone before ultimately getting up from your comfortable position on the couch and making your quick trip to the island in the middle of the kitchen grabbing the device.

"Hello, who is this?" Silence followed as you waited for a response from the mystery caller, "Hello?" A groan escaped your lips as you got ready to hang up.

"Hello?" A deep voice answered you, prompting you to hold on to hear what the person had to say.

“I think you have the wrong number,” Not having recognized the voice you thought it’d be better to just hang up and get back to your movie.

The mystery man didn’t seem to want to let that happen though, “Wait, don’t hang up,” the man sounded desperate to continue talking and so you felt somewhat compelled to wait.

You chuckled lightly at the situation, “Why?” You asked, a smile grazing your face. As you waited for him to answer you leaned against the wall twirling the cord of the phone.

“I wanna talk to you” You hesitated before debating to stay on the line, curiosity peaking as to what more he had to say. The movie was starting to bore you anyway, having been the 6th time you rented it from the video store Randy worked at.

“Hm about what then?” You decided to amuse the stranger and talk more, thinking what’s the worst that can come out of this. You walked back over to the TV shutting it off seeing as you no longer felt interested in the movie.

You heard shuffling on the line as the man answered, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” His voice started to sound more sinister but you tried to dismiss it.

“Silence of the Lambs, I suppose,” The man let out a lowly chuckle, seemingly pleased with the answer before he continued.

“Now, what’s your name?” His voice darkened, having no more comfort behind it.

You started to feel creeped out, no longer enjoying the conversation as you slowly made your way back into your kitchen, getting ready to hang up, “Why do you want to know?” You were nervous but didn’t think much of it, just wanting to end the conversation and go to bed now.

“I want to know who I’m looking at..” You could practically hear the grin on his face.

Goosebumps traveled up your arm and your grip on the phone tightened, “Fuck you asshole,” You quickly slammed the phone into the wall hanging up on the man. Slowly you walked away just to hear it ringing again.

You didn't want to answer, there was no reason to but there was a strange feeling that you should pick it up, "I said fuck off!"

"Aren't you feisty doll," The man mocked you, his voice had a teasing tone to it but you knew better then to believe that, "Let's play a game,"

You were getting fed up again and were about to hang up when he said something strange to you, even stranger then the last, "What door am I hiding behind?"

What the fuck?

You didn't even have time to think as suddenly the bathroom door suddenly flung open and a man in a ghost mask ran through the halls barreling towards you, a sharp object that you could only assume was a knife was held in his hand.

As he gets closer you threw the phone at him, successfully hitting him but not hard enough to slow him down. You ran around the island in the middle of the kitchen trying to get to the front door, fear and adrenaline taking over your entire body.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You yell, hoping you’ll get out of this alive.

Just as you're about to reach the door, the man grabs your wrist and throws you onto the couch, he quickly towers over you, as he grabs ahold of you pinning you down as he applies pressure to your neck with his knife.

Slowly blood begins to seep from the light wound you acquired from the knife. The man seems to notice this and begins to back up before trying to stop the bleeding, which was strange since you assumed he wanted you dead.

Not wasting this chance you kick the man in the stomach and quickly run back to the phone dialing 911 hoping you’ll be able to call them in time.

Ghostface seemed to notice your plan and as he recovered from the blow beginning to run around the couch to get to you, but not fast enough as you already had the police on the line telling them your address and the current situation you were in.

Realizing he didn’t have much time the masked man ran out the back door but not before staring you down and tilting his head, he was taunting you and you knew it.

Almost as soon as he left you got another call, you were scared to answer, you hesitated but you knew he wouldn’t come back, the police were already on the way and so you answered.

“You’re a lucky one aren’t you doll?” The man let out a lowly chuckle, but you could tell he was tired from the chase.

“Oh fuck you,” you hissed, seething with anger and fear.

The man laughed at your response, “You wish,” that was the last thing you heard him say before you hung up, hearing the police sirens nearing.

You just couldn’t wait for this all to be over but you had a feeling it wouldn’t be for a long time, he would be back.

[iovetecchou]

When A Stranger Calls ⧸ Jouno Saigiku.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Dark Content! Don't Like Don't Read, You Have Been Warned!

summary: When a stranger calls, Jouno answers. Pulling himself into a world of trouble.

༞ Contains...! phone sex, mutual masturbation, serial killer!reader, highkey yandere!reader, blackmail, coercion, manipulation, dubcon, mentions of stalking, mentions of murder (sorry tecchou)

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 2,440 words.

kinktober masterlist!

Jouno was beyond fed up with the week and it was only Monday. Fukuchi put Tecchou and himself on this serial killer case. It has been weeks since they first got a lead. But still no luck in getting the perp behind bars. The worst part of it all? Was that Teccou was an idiot and hardly helpful in this investigation. He called Jouno every night about the details of the case, nearly boring Jouno to death with the repetitiveness. Hearing about the elements only aggravated Jouno even further because they had no advance in the case yet. 

Tonight was no different. Jouno had only just stepped through the threshold of his apartment. He had a second to kick off his boots and remove his hat, placing it atop his kitchen counter before his phone rang. Jouno clicked his tongue at the pesky ringtone. He just got off the clock. He didn't get paid enough to deal with Tecchou's stupidity off-duty. 

Jouno tugged his phone out of his pocket, answering it before shouting, "What could you possibly be calling me for now, you fool!" The blind king grimaced, clutching his phone tight, nearly cracking the screen. His anger only grew tenfold when more seconds ticked by, and there was no response from the man on the other line. "I'm hanging up. Don't call again, idiot."

Jouno huffed as he made quick strides toward his bedroom, tugging off his uniform in haste. He was beyond frustrated with everything as of late. All he wanted to do was shower after a long day. He stripped down to nothing but his boxer briefs, making his way toward the bathroom. He halted in his stride the moment he heard his phone ringing once more from where he left it on the kitchen counter. 

Did this idiot have a death wish?

Jouno stomped into his kitchen, swiping his phone off the counter, answering once more. "Tecchou, if you call me one more time... I will come to your place and wring your neck. You hear me?" 

"Woah... scary." 

Jouno's body went tense. This gruff voice certainly didn't belong to his counterpart. But the number this call was coming from was certainly Tecchou's. Jouno had specific ringtones set for each of his colleagues so he knew exactly who was calling. Something was off. Jouno had a bad feeling about this. 

"And who might you be?" Jouno quipped, keeping his voice calm as he tried to hear any background noises coming from the other end. He picked up on the rustling of leaves, the wind whistling, and perhaps the sounds of cars in the distance. Strange. 

"I'm quite hurt you don't know who I am, Saigiku. You've been my secret admirer for a few weeks now." You were using a voice modulator, Jouno noted. There were moments when your true voice would crack through, throwing him off. 

More importantly, how did you know his first name?

"Where did you get this phone from? Answer me now, mutt." Jouno barked out, quickly making haste toward his bedroom. He grabbed his discarded uniform, about to tug it back on before the voice over the phone snickered, 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Sai. Those clothes are dirty, plus I love to see you nearly on full display for me. You have a cute butt." 

Jouno's blood ran cold in his veins. All of his blinds were shut, he was sure of it. He didn't detect any movement in his apartment, and from the background noise coming from your call, you were outdoors. 

"I'm hanging up." Jouno deadpanned, trying to keep his composure. Even though he was beginning to freak out internally. "Do that, and you'll regret—" The line went dead before you could finish your threat, but it didn't take a genius to know what you were trying to say. 

Jouno hastily checked the lock on the front door; it was secure. He tiptoed around the apartment, trying to listen to any abnormalities. His hands grazed along the windows, causing his fear to spike further when he realized all the blinds were, in fact, down. Nothing was out of place, and his apartment was as secure as ever. So, how were you able to see him?

He tried to think for a moment. You said he was your "secret admirer" which made absolutely no sense. Sure, many people fawned over him; but it was never the other way around. Plus, all he had time to do recently was work on this serial killer case— wait—. 

Just as Jouno put the pieces together, the phone rang again. His heart pounded as the sound of Tecchou's ringtone flooded his train of thought. Slowly, he answered the call once more tonight. He kept as still and quiet as he could. 

"Finally know who I am, darling? It's about damn time." Your altered voice boomed through his desolate apartment. You sounded displeased as you continued, "What, getting all shy on me now? Go on, say what's on your mind."

Jouno couldn't control the words that slipped past his lips. "You're that lowly killer on the loose. The one Tecchou and I have been hunting down." He didn't intend to speak, and yet he did? Could you potentially be an ability user and this was a cause of your ability?

"Lowly? That actually hurts my feelings. Don't tell me you truly think so poorly of me, darling." You feined offense over the phone, snickering slightly as you whispered, "No matter, I can just change your mind."' 

Jouno knew something was wrong, "I'm hanging up—" 

"No, you're not!" Your voice was playful, Jouno knew you were getting a rise out of this. 

But what frightened him even more, was the fact that he was still on the line with you. He intended to end this call but Jouno was frozen in his tracks. "What's going on?" Jouno questioned calmly, despite his heart beating a mile a minute. 

"Stop resisting, Saigiku. It'll be easier for you if you just give in!" Your altered voice was as chipper as ever. 

"And let you kill me as you did Tecchou? Hah, as if." Jouno feigned confidence, trying to subtly get more info out of you.

"You think... I would kill you? You really do think of me as scum. Saigiku, I would never allow you to suffer the same fate as your stupid colleague— ah what did you just say his name was... oh right, Tecchou." 

Jouno knew you killed Tecchou but to hear it from your mouth was petrifying. "Aww, what's with the sour face? I thought you loathed Tecchou! I got rid of him for you— for us!"

Jouno's breath was labored, he didn't know what to do at this moment. He felt utterly hopeless. "Tell me, how are you seeing me right now? Because I know you're not here with me."

Jouno cursed himself for how shaky his voice was. His face scrunched up as your wicked giggle flooded his mind. "It's a secret. If I told you, It would ruin all the fun! How would I be able to enjoy the sight of you jerking off every night if you somehow got rid of my little secret?" 

"What did you just say?" Jouno felt heat rise to his cheeks. Knowing someone was watching him during such an intimate moment was mortifying. 

"Oh, which part? The little secret of how I see you? Or the part about you fucking your fist like a desperate whore each night?" You snickered, causing Jouno's blush to deepen. 

"You're fucking sick." Jouno spat, and his hands began to shake from this uneasy feeling.

"Hmm, maybe I am. But your little whines are so addicting, I can't get enough. It's so cute as you try to muffle your moans with your hand while you get yourself off. Oh, but my favorite part is when you finish. The way your hips lift off the bed as you make a mess all over yourself is my favorite sight— fuck... I'm getting turned on just thinking about it."

Jouno could hear rustling over the phone, your altered voice coming out more breathless now. "Come on, darling. Why don't you give me a little show, yeah? Go to the couch and take your underwear off for me. Red looks good on you, by the way, and I'm not talking about your boxers."

Jouno's throat ran dry as his legs moved on their own. He placed the phone atop the arm of the couch, tugging his boxers down his thighs before making himself comfortable on the plush cushions. Jouno felt exposed, too exposed and he didn't understand why he had no choice but to obey you.

"Tell me, this is a cause of your ability... yes?" Jouno questioned, placing his palm over his cock. Trying to conceal himself the best he could.

"How about this... I'll answer your every question if you start touching yourself for me. How's that sound?" You panted, Jouno could tell you were getting yourself off from the sight of him. He considered your offer heavily, if he did this, he would be able to track you down. But if he refused, you would probably force him to touch himself anyway, minus the intel. 

"I accept. So, tell me... is this a cause of your ability?" Jouno's breath hitched the moment he wrapped his hand around his softened cock. He tried to stay focused on interrogating you as he stroked himself, getting hard in a matter of seconds from his heightened sense of touch. 

"Yes! It's a mind control ability of sorts, but that's all I'll say for now." You giggled, stifling a moan as you watched Jouno fist his cock. 

"How are you seeing me right now— hah..." Jouno huffed, letting out a small whine as he focused his touch on the head of his cock. Causing his legs to shake.

"Now, now... don't get greedy. That's one secret I won't give away. But since you're moaning so sweetly for me... I'll give you a hint. It's part of my ability." You whispered, the sound of rustling on your end of the call increasing by the second.

Jouno picked up his pace, slowly losing himself in the pleasure. "Why do you have a soft spot for me— ngh... d-do you— ah... do you know me perchance?" 

You went quiet for a moment, the voice-altering device slipping away as you lost yourself in your own pleasure. Jouno's cock throbbed wildly as he heard your voice, your real voice, as you cried out his name. He knew this was wrong, he shouldn't be feeling this way from hearing your sultry whines. You were a sick person... but your moans were like music to his ears. 

"I do know you... but I doubt you remember me. You saved me long ago... but— hn... I-I've loved you ever since." Jouno was trying to pinpoint your voice, skimming through his memories all the while he was trying not to cum from the intense simulation he was granting himself. 

"H-How long ago was that?" Jouno asked through gritted teeth, slender hips lifting off the bed as he fucked into his fist. 

"Years ago... I tried to grab your attention in every— ah... e-every way I could. But you're a workaholic. Never saving any time for a personal life, and so... hah— I-I..." A loud whine ripped through you. You panted as you tried to hold back. Not wanting to cum until he did. 

"You began murdering just to grab my attention? Tell me you're n-not serious— f-fuck..." Jouno spat, balls tightening as his release neared closer. He wanted to get as much intel out of you before he came, so he edged himself. 

"Oh, I'm dead serious— hah, get it? Dead serious— s-shit... gonna cum... Saigiku, stop holding back. I know you've been trying to hold out, but I need to hear you— need to see you cum for me." You hardly realized that your true voice was reaching Jouno's sensitive ears as you got yourself off. Too focused on Jouno and his pleasure. 

"Well then, why don't you tell me your name? I'll be sure to say it while I make a mess all over myself— hah... I'm sure you'd like that, right?" Jouno smirked as he heard you stutter on the other side of the phone. He knew you were contemplating it. If you gave up your name, you were practically turning yourself in. But... you've dreamt about Jouno chanting your name like a prayer as he lost himself in bliss.

"Hah... you're good, Sai. Too good... fuck— you always know just the right thing to say. No wonder you're the Hunting Dog's finest." You panted, scoring your bottom lip with your teeth before gritting out, 

"It's Y/N... go on, hah— cry out my n-name as you come all over yourself, Sai." Jouno finally let himself go at the knowledge of your name. He fucked into his fist vigorously, pace getting sloppy— tasting his release on the tip of his tongue. 

"That wasn't so hard, was it? F-Fuck... Y/N..." Your breath hitched, hearing your name roll off his tongue.

"Say it again. Please!" Your mind was clouded, letting your desperation take over as you made a fool of yourself. 

"Ah... Y/N, I'm gonna cum— s-shit, Y/N!" Jouno threw his head back in bliss as the first ropes of cum shot out past his slit. His thighs twitched as his hips studdered, sloppily working himself through his high. Cum painting his flush chest white. 

"Saigiku, Saigiku, Sai—!" Your voice was muffled as you tumbled over the edge, whining out his name as your own release washed over you. Jouno honed in on your soft panting and whispers of his name as he came down from his high. Trying his hardest to regain his composure. 

"Okay, I'm done playing these games with you, Y/N. Don't try to use your ability on me any further, or else I'll never say your name again." Jouno warned, resting his hips flat against the sofa as he twitched from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"So cold... and just as I thought we were getting somewhere here! You know, I can just use my ability on you and make you say my name again!" You cooed. More rustling could be heard on your end of the phone as Jouno sat up, reaching over for his phone. 

"Goodbye, Y/N. Next time we talk, It'll be while you're behind bars." Jouno ended the call before you could say another word. You continued to observe Jouno from a distance, smiling to yourself as a blush still bedecked the blind king. 

"Catch me if you can, Saigiku."

[chxrrysangel]

Wanna Play a Game ?

Trick | roleplay

Pairing | Dabi x fem!reader

Warnings | i guess dubcon?? but also like not really, knife play, a singular mention of blood/injury, fingering, choking, oral ( m + f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), alluded to aftercare, mask kink lowkey, honorifics, degradation, dabi has a pierced dick bc I said so

A/n | not proofread, we die like men (i'll do it later, i promise)

Wordcount | 3,205 words

The night was dark and quiet, almost too quiet. The whirring of the television and your intermittent gasps of fright was music to his ears. Hellraiser had never been a favorite franchise, but with everyone raving about the reboot you decided to give it a shot. If you were being honest, Odessa A’zion was the sole reason for giving it a chance. The music took a turn, suspense making your heart race with anticipation. 

Ring Ring 

A yelp left your lips before even registering the sound of the phone. It was unlike anyone to call this late, small town and all. Everything closed at like 8pm, as if everyone old or young had an early bedtime. It was almost as comical as it was annoying. Shaking hands unclipped the device from its receiver, listening for the connection to stabilize. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi. Who is this?” 

You scoffed. “I think you have the wrong number.” 

There was a small beat of silence before the receiver picked up sound. 

“Do I?” Who is this guy? 

“Yes you do. I’m hanging up, have a nice night.” You ended the call, feeling a sense of unplaced fear. With a small town like this, everyone still used the yellow pages. The possibility of dialing the wrong number was pretty low. Continuing the movie, your mind wandered to oggling Odessa and Drew’s characters, the stranger on the phone long forgotten. 

Ring Ring 

Not even bothering to press pause, you picked up the house phone with clear exasperation. 

“Yes, can I help you?” 

“I’m sorry.” It was the same strange voice. 

“You called me again to apologize?” Some time between your question and the awaited response, a character on the screen screeched in pure terror, catching you off guard. 

“Yes I did. Are you watching a scary movie?”

“...yes I am. And I’d like to get back to it.” 

“Do you like scary movies?” 

“Some of them.” You figured that by keeping your answer short, he would eventually get bored and hang up. 

“Which ones?”

“Jennifer’s Body. Scream. Chucky. Ones like that.”

“You have good taste, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you, I’m hanging up now if you don’t mind.” 

“I do mind, actually.” 

“Well, I’m sorry but that’s too b–”. Your sentence was interrupted by a loud banging on the front door. Tentatively, you tiptoed towards the peephole and looked through to see nothing. 

What the fuck? 

You turned around to a dark kitchen, making you shriek. The television flickered back and forth on its own, fear and bile rising up your throat. The stranger on the other line seemed irrelevant at this point, too caught up in the strange sight before you. To make matters worse, the pounding on the front door returned, shaking you to your core. 

“Who is it?” There was no response, which only scared you more. With shaking hands, you opened the door and peered outside. The porch was empty, just as you had expected. You tried to calm your heart, deciding to worry about all of this another time. Every instinct you had escaped you, the naivete of a small town making you less cautious than you probably should be. You shook your head, closing the door to return to your movie.

Except the door got caught on something. 

A foot to be exact. 

Your eyes bulged out at the sight of the mystery black boot, fearing who could possibly be attached to it.. Your entire body shook with pure terror, a tall stranger looming over you in a mask. His head tilted in animalistic curiosity, unmoving but frightening all the same. 

“Did no one ever tell you the first rule of scary movies, sweetheart? Don’t open the door for strangers.” He chuckled darkly, stepping over the threshold as you stupidly stepped backwards. Despite everything in your body telling you to run, it was like you were frozen in place. The large man clicked his tongue with disapproval, seemingly at your lack of instincts. A gloved hand came up to your face, grabbing onto your jaw to hold you in place. You could feel his warm breath on your cold skin with his increased proximity, fanning your ear while he whispered. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing home alone, hm?” A tear fell down your cheek, too frozen with fear to respond or do anything else. He backed up a few spaces, watching you stand helplessly like a gazelle caught in the lion’s den.

“Not gonna run from me? But that’s no fun.” He sounded sickeningly disappointed, which only worsened your anxiety of what was to come. It was at this moment you noticed something shining in his other hand, your eyes widening as you identified the foreign object. He seemed to put two and two together, bringing the blade up to your face. 

“Oh sweetheart, don’t worry ‘m not gonna kill ya, not yet at least.” You’d almost think he was sincere if the circumstances were different. Even behind a mask, his smile was evident. 

As if some higher power guided you to sanity, you suddenly developed a sliver of bravery. So you ran, as fast as your feet could carry you without wasting a single moment to look back. Haphazardly you ran into your bedroom and slammed the door, searching frantically for a hiding spot. The closet seemed like your best option, having no time to think of something better. You waited there, breathing as quietly as you could muster given the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ve never felt fear quite like this moment, which could very easily be your last. For a few minutes the house was virtually silent, but you couldn’t be stupid enough to be lured out under false pretenses. It was never that easy. Suddenly your bedroom door slammed open, the stranger walking into your safe space. His large boots made impressions into the carpet with each step, a faint eerie whistle being heard under his mask. 

“Honey, I know you’re in here. Can’t hide from someone like me, baby.” A light shined in your face, blinding you as the closet doors opened. 

“There you are.” How someone whose eyes can’t be met could be so terrifying was incredible. 

You begged  for your life, feeling so unlike yourself. It was an out-of-body experience, kissing the boots of a stranger and begging him not to kill you. The coldness of his blade pushed up your chin, forcing your eyes towards where you assumed his own sat.

“I told you, my sweet, I have much better plans in mind.” He stood much straighter now, towering over your kneeling figure. The cloak he wore earlier was gone, although he kept the mask for obvious reasons. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” Your eyes flickered down his figure instinctually, catching on the growing bulge  beneath his black jeans. He was enjoying this, although not quite in the matter you thought. You hated yourself for the wet feeling growing between your thighs as you stared. He chuckled, entertained by this moment. 

“I can see you staring.” 

The trance you were in broke, heat breaking out across your cheeks as you averted your gaze. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now, honey. I’ve caught you. And I think there’s a solution we both could enjoy.” 

The tall stranger didn’t wait for an answer, dropping his knife to begin unbuckling his pants. In one swift movement, his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. Purple scarring covered his lower legs, but your eyes could hardly focus on anything other than his dick hanging in front of your face. His tip leaked, red and swollen like it hurt. Metal jewelry glittered in the low light of the room, a jacob’s ladder and prince albert catching your eye. It was embarrassing how interested you were considering the circumstances. 

“Now be a good girl and suck.” 

Without much hesitation, your outstretched tongue gathers the dripping pearls of precum as you relax your jaw to accommodate him. He was large, much larger than most people you’ve had. The man groaned as his tip hit the back of your throat, a ring-clad coming to place itself on your cheek. On occasion, he thrusted into your mouth, chuckling when you gagged. Tears began to well in your eyes, clouding your vision a bit. Despite his air of dominance, whimpers could be heard beneath the mask, signaling how much he enjoyed this. 

“So good, that’s it. F-fuck,” he stuttered. Using your prior knowledge, you began to roll his balls between your fingertips as you sucked him off. His thrusts began to lose rhythm, signaling that he was very close. 

“Shit, shit. I’m gonna fucking cum. Stop.” He pulled you off, not allowing you to refuse and push him over the edge.

“Not so fast, pretty girl. Bed, now.” 

Not arguing despite instinct saying otherwise, you sat down on the bed and awaited instruction. He didn’t say much, grabbing your arm and turning you to lay on your stomach. A coldness danced its way up your back and down your thighs, making you shiver. The heat from his body radiated off him like a furnace, which only made each anticipatory moment pass by even slower. Eager hands pulled down your shorts, being thrown somewhere behind his shoulder. 

“Spread those legs for me sweetheart.” You did as told, hearing a groan in response. Even through the cotton fabric, your pussy shined with arousal, making him more turned on than he thought was possible. Not wasting a single moment, he ran his fingers along your slit and pressed against your clit. He cursed under his breath as you leaned into his touch, desperate for any pleasure he was willing to offer. 

“Oh that’s cute.” 

He slipped one finger in, meeting little resistance as your cunt sucked him in. It was a sight to behold, making him wish he brought a camera. You mewled below him, ass pushing against his hand as you chased your own pleasure. He chuckled, enjoying how obviously needy you were and the lack of shame you possessed in hiding it. But just as you felt an orgasm approaching, he took his hand away. 

“Not yet..” You groaned in frustration, but stayed quiet otherwise. 

Dabi spread your legs wide, enough to accommodate his shoulders as he lay beneath you and brought your core to his face. The ball of his apparent tongue piercing rolled along your clit, making you cry out of pleasure. 

“F-fuck,” you managed to stutter out. His tongue was gifted, sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure to drive someone insane. He wasn’t afraid to be messy, loudly slurping and sucking to the point where it was almost nasty. Dabi pulled your body closer to his mouth, impossibly closer, like he was trying to absorb you. Your hips ground against his face, chasing your slowly creeping orgasm.

“More, need more.” Because you begged so nicely, Dabi obliged your request by curling two fingers into your hole. His thick digits pressed against your g-spot, making your toes curl as you felt your stomach tighten as your orgasm approached. You could only blabber incoherently, speaking words that not even you could bother to understand. All you knew is that you were cumming, quickly. You collapsed on the bed, legs jelly and head fuzzy as you came down. 

Dabi couldn’t wait for you to come to, deciding to take matters into his own hands.  

He manhandled your frame, pushing your knees into your chest as he pressed his weight against the back of your thighs. The tip of his dick prodded at your entrance, gathering the slick of your cum. Majority of his face remained covered by the mask, but his wicked grin shone brightly in the dimly lit bedroom

There was a level of shame that lodged itself in your chest, embarrassed by how turned on you felt in that moment. 

“You’re even prettier in this position.” His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You could practically feel his cock in your throat as he stretched you inch by inch, agonizingly slow as he watched your features. He could tell you were overwhelmed, which only made him harder. 

“Fucking hell,” Dabi whispered under his breath. Killing you would be such a shame now.

His thrusts were slow but methodical, ensuring you could feel every single piercing and vein. His warm breath fanned your face, engulfing you in his scent as he held you close. He smelled like smoke, undercut by the scent of bergamot and the faintest hint of vanilla and mint. It was intoxicating. 

“I can feel you squeezing me. Wanna cum already?,” he teased. His tone was wickedly condescending, prompting you to try and hide your face in the sheets. 

His strong hand gripped your chin, forcing eye contact. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“You can’t hide from me, princess. Be a good girl.”

His calloused fingertips rubbed circles against your clit, pushing you further towards the edge. It was almost like he needed you to cum, more than he did. He set a vicious pace, knocking the air from your lungs with every push into the mattress. He pushed your legs further, creating a new angle as your body curled into itself. It hurt so good. Dabi never shied away from being vocal, cursing under his breath as he whined about how good you felt. 

He leans down, pulling you into a kiss. It’s neither soft nor caring, purely animalistic as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. The hunger he felt translated across, desperation evident in his forceful thrusts as you kissed back. You attempt to grab his hair, realizing that the mask still covered most of his face. Uncaring, he pulled it off completely, throwing it somewhere in the corner to be searched for later.  You taste each other on your tongues, the sin of it all turning you on more. He finally breaks the kiss, out of breath as he chases your lips again before rethinking it. 

“I–”, he dives back in for a chaste kiss, “– own –” , another kiss, “–you.” He remains close, practically sharing each breath between you as you stare firmly into his blue eyes. He pulls out, motioning you to turn on to your hands and knees. You did as told, submitting fully. The lack of sight as he shuffled behind you should have been anxiety-inducing, but it wasn’t. 

He dragged the dull edge of his knife down the indent of your spine, the most gentle of pressure enough to leave goosebumps in its wake. But as he reached the curve of your lower back, he pressed inward, pushing the blade into your skin until it broke. You felt a pinch that quickly flowed into a sharp ache as small droplets pooled on the surface of your back. 

He hushed your panic, pushing your head back down to lay against the mattress. The wet muscle of what you quickly realized was his tongue gathered the mess, licking up your back as you shivered. 

“I could do horrific things to you.” The darkness in his tone made it abundantly clear that he meant every word. It was exhilarating. 

“But first, I wanna play.” 

He leaned over as he guided himself inside, meeting no resistance as he bottomed out. His teeth nipped at your ear, a sensitive spot on your part. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, uncharacteristically gentle.

From this angle he feels so much bigger, knocking the air from your lungs as you’re forced to accommodate his size. 

“Fu-” the curse dies in your throat as it turns into a choked gasp. 

He brings a hand back to your throat, applying pressure to both sides as he guides you to straighten up against him, making him hit new depths that have you hissing out. You mewl as he continues to thrust at an agonizingly slow pace, make sure you feel everything. 

“Look at you, whining like some slut.” He feels you clench at that, smiling into your skin. 

You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, the ridges of his piercings gliding against your walls.

“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his fingertips further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. “Getting cockdrunk by some guy trying to kill you. You dirty fucking girl.” 

You can only continue your pathetic whines, reaching back to grasp onto him for stability. 

He slams back in, letting you drop forward. You hardly manage to keep yourself up, limbs jelly and unstable. Each time he snaps his hips forward, the sound of skin slapping ricochets off the bedroom walls around you. He grips your hip bone, forcing your hips to meet every thrust. 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel, baby,” he huffs out, the building orgasm apparent in the slight shake of his voice. “Go ahead, say it.” His balls catch your clit, making your eyes cross as you struggle to stay present. 

“So good. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you answer to best of your ability. Your answer was weak, eyes tearing up as you felt your gut clench. He was ruining you and he knew it.  He pulls you back upwards by the throat, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips as he moans into your mouth. 

“Say it again. Like you mean it.” 

“Fuck, right there, please. Feels so good — ha — I’m so close.” 

His fingers connect with your clit, working a mind-numbing pattern that has you nearly slipping out of unconsciousness as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsh, the lines of pain and pleasure continuing to blur as you cum on his cock. Your body tenses in pleasure, everything fading into the background, before releasing as you collapse. 

His pace falters as his own orgasm takes over, spilling inside you as he cries out in ecstasy. You couldn’t even be bothered to consider the consequences of that at the moment, trying your best to catch your breath as you laid there together. 

Seconds turned to minutes as the reality of the situation passed over you. Dabi had hardly moved, staring at the ceiling as he reminisced on the last hour or so. You turned over to him, checking in on his current state. His blue eyes met yours with soft crinkling at the corners, heavy lidded eyes softening as he stared. 

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered. You obliged, leaning in close with the expectation of him wanting to tell you something. Instead he kissed you softly, a sharp contrast to the night’s previous events. He hummed in satisfaction against your lips, before pulling away reluctantly. 

“Was I too rough?”

 You shook your head assuringly, letting out a few tuts as though he was asking a stupid question. 

“Just asking.” He felt equally stupid asking, especially considering it was your idea, but he had to be sure. The bed dipped as he padded over to your shared bathroom, turning on the shower for the two of you. He leaned against the door frame, watching you curl into the sheets as you awaited the inevitable dragging to the bathroom for cleanup. 

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PREVIEW]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 2.7k (preview) | ..pending (full fic)

NOTES: hello everyone, this is my baby, the birth was very special, i love my baby so much 💗 listen! i started this in early august and i am STILL going, this going to be LONG.. longest mins-fins work ever long 😞 im estimating 30–40k, the power of mark lee yall 😇 it's going to go on forever, and it's definitely going to be sad in some ways, i am currently about to hit 20k words.. sooooiooooo 😊😊 i hope you like this preview bc i really dk when the real thing is coming out 😭😭 im in so much pain rn, let me nap now 😴

BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had heard too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he's practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

[sebsbarnes]

hello! this request may seem a bit strange but I'd like to request a one-shot about tangerine getting a call from his girlfriend to pick her up because some strangers followed her after getting off the station. This unfortunately happened to me and I'm still shocked, I got off 3 stations before mine, I went into a convenience store and they still managed to follow me... I called my half-brother to pick me up but he didn't want to 😃 and he still blamed me for studying at night. sorry for my terrible english, i'm desperate for comfort 🥺 thank you! i love your blog ❤️

hii! thank you for loving my blog and thank you for sending in a request :) i am going to do it in bullet points i hope that is okay, and i wanted to say i am so sorry this happened to you, i've been in this situation numerous times and it truly is scary and completely unjust to be placed in a position where you feel nervous, alone, and in danger because someone is harassing and stalking you. we shouldn't have to but carrying pepper spray or an alarm is always beneficial or even talking to shop owners could help. i hope you are feeling better from this experience and you can always chat to me if you need to :)

tangerine intervenes a stalker headcanon

warnings: talks of stalking, nothing descriptive

masterlist

you're out on the town doing some shopping that you had been avoiding and you had already been trying to muster through the long day of shopping

what didn't help was when you realized you started seeing two familiar faces at each stop

you had gotten off at a stop so you could go into a soap shop a block from the station

that's when you first noticed the two men

but you didn't think much about it then...it was a saturday afternoon and this was a popular shop and the station you had just left from was the closest

you picked up some soaps you needed for the apartment, thanking the cashier and headed for the door when a man darted in front of you and grabbed the door for you

"oh! thank you!" you smiled at him before turning back to the station

you got back on the train and soon noticed the man that grabbed the door for you and his friend, both of whom were staring intensely at you from across the car, you shot them a forced smile and turned your back, ready to get off again

there was a clothing store nearby that tangerine loved and you wanted to pop in and see if there was something you could buy him

you went up and down the aisle running your hands over the fabric when you felt eyes on you... familiar eyes

through the rack, you saw one of the men again

'they just have to be shopping...right?'

with quick feet and a fast beating heart you maneuvered throughout the store to lose them

you looked up at the mirrors lining the ceiling on the side of the store and saw the two men talking with each other and pointing towards where you walked to... but then they left the store.

you clutched your chest, attempting to steady your breath. you refused to leave now so you wasted a good fifteen minutes in the store before buying tangerine a new tie and leaving

you felt good leaving, no eyes on you, no weird feeling in the pit of your stomach until you passed a small alleyway and then heard two sets of feet thumping on the sidewalk behind you

whipping your head to the side you watched the windows fly past you and that's when you noticed it was the two men in the reflection... a decent enough space behind you, but still too close

you felt sick and your hands were clammy and a bit shaky

'did they know tangerine? were they from a mission?' you kept thinking

tangerine... YES! tangerine!

you pulled your phone out and pressed the call button

an empty soda can went flying into your feet from behind and when you looked the two men were smirking, one of them chewing on a piece of gum with his mouth open

you fastened your pace and felt tears line your eyes... you were scared

"hey lov-"

"TAN! oh my god thank god you answered"

"what's wrong?" tangerine asked, he was now standing up hearing the fear in your voice

"there's these men they won't stop following me and-"

"where are you?" he cut you off

you heard his keys jingle in the background when you told him what was nearby and he instructed you to continue walking but be vigilant and that he would be here any second

oh and he is pissed. he is FUMING. his vision has turned white similar to his fingers that were gripping the sterling wheel with such intensity it was shaking

tangerine was a lot of things... and today he turned into a fucking racecar driver

you were fast walking on the sidewalk, the men a far enough distance behind you when you saw tangerine's car flying down the street. once the front of his car past you he jerked the wheel and turned the car onto the sidewalk, you stopped walking and watched him step out of the vehicle

the men had to abruptly stop so they didn't get hit

"what the FUCK?" one of them yelled, throwing his arms up

tangerine shot you a wink before adjusting his brass knuckles and rounding the hood of the car to the men

"oh, i'm sorry mate, did i get in your fuckin' way of followin' that young lady?" tangerine asked

the guys pretended to be clueless which only angered tan more before he started punching them. the guys weakly pleaded for tangerine to stop, but that's not how tangerine works... he stops when he wants to

"maybe you should be productive with your sad lives rather than stalking poor young women you disgusting pieces of shit. how'd you feel if i spent every day following you around, huh? do you think i should do that, mr. miller?" tangerine asked, looking at one of their IDs, "maybe i'll hang onto this, a keepsake, yanno?"

tangerine took the men's IDs, making a mental note that he will pay them a visit at their homes, and leaving them on the ground with blood pouring from their noses and split skin

he tossed their IDs and the brass knuckles into the car and walked over to you

"are you alright?" he asked with worried eyes running his hands over your arms

you nodded your head and leaned forward into his chest, the sound of his heartbeat calming you

"c'mon, let's leave before the police come. we can go home and just lay on the couch today, yeah? i'll pick up some takeout tonight, anything you want love"

tangerine grabbed the shopping bags from your hands and guided you to the car. you rolled down your window as the men stood to their feet

"assholes!"

tangerine let out a small laugh, placing a hand on your knee as you gave them the middle finger

[danosrosegarden]

edward angst, where he comforts reader over the phone from Arkham :( there both so broken up about not being able to see each other and reader breaks down moments into the call

sick of losing soulmates - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚♡

{contents ♡ mentions of violence, mentions of vomiting, angst + fluff}

{word count ♡ ~700}

♡ it just didn't match, the image of him that was burned into your brain and the campfire scary story monster he was when you weren't looking. they were entirely different beings. your edward was the one who wrote handwritten letters and sent wrappings of sweet perfumed flowers to you just because. your edward was the one who'd hug you from behind while you cooked dinner and basked in the warmth of your being. your edward was the one who'd nuzzle into the crook of your neck at night, tracing the curves and dips of your gently rising and falling body. that edward was the one who was ice cold and eerily calculated, slithering into the unlucky mice's lives like a beady-eyed snake. that edward was the one who coiled around them and reveled in the sheen of terror glossed across their eyes. that edward was the one that squeezed, the one that suffocated, the one that took and took and took until there was nothing left to take.

♡ most days you got sick, dry heaving up what little was left in your gut until your eyes poured salty tears and your chin was slick with spittle. most days you felt crushed into dust, broken into shards. you'd gone through the whipping windstorm waves: cold bitterness, broiling anger, dizzying confusion. but most of all, you felt the aching weight grabbing hold of your heart and dragging down: you were sad. you were hurt. you were heartbroken. he had hid his plans from you, he had lied about where he was most evenings, he had trusted a group of deranged strangers before he had trusted you. that all hurt in its own way. but above all else, it would never be possible to again find what you once had with him. that was what hurt the most.

♡ you had questioned whether or not you even wanted to hear his voice again. your kneejerk reaction was of course, of course, give me the phone, please please please please let me have just a few more minutes of his distant presence. but the more it blackened the crevices in your brain like a messy ink spill, the more you felt the deep pit in your stomach lurch. what are you even supposed to say to him? what is he supposed to say to you?

♡ you rehearse the lines in your head over and over. you breathe deep and steady, trying to stable the quivering in your hands as you hold the phone.

♡ "hello?"

♡ you hold the phone to your ear silently for a moment, listening to the smothering quiet in your apartment and the shallow in and out of your breath. "edward?"

♡ for that split second, you're connected by this odd, tightly woven string of silence. you're jammed between what is there to say? and how am i supposed to say everything in this miniscule time frame?

♡ "it's good to hear you." the words are wading through molasses, spoken slowly and thickly, like his voice had been flossed through a filter.

♡ and it all comes rushing back, a crashing tidal wave of every lazy morning spent tangled in his arms, every cool evening spent bathing in the comfortable quiet of your bedroom together.

♡ every line you'd memorized before the call gets crumpled and trashed. you feel the hot contacts of tears rise against your eyes and drop down your cheeks. "hi, eddie. i miss you."

♡ he can't promise forever anymore. he can't promise much of anything anymore...perhaps that's what's most difficult to grapple with, the uncertainty of it all. the dice roll that each new day would bring, the gamble you bet on with every rising and setting sun. but here in this moment, you feel as though he's reaching out. you can sense his radiating warmth from the other end of the line. it numbed the bleeding thought in the back of your brain that you had lost him for good. here he was, here you were, hands outstretched, arms wide open.

[homunculus-argument]

The reason why teenagers are scary is the infinite potential for chaos - they're grownup-sized but lack both the brain capacity for impulse control and to fully consider any potential consequences of whatever they think of doing, and the life experience to even make educated guesses of what could happen if they do whatever it was that just popped into their heads. Like I don't think they're monsters and most of them are mostly harmless, but it's like with unfamilair dogs - you just never know.

This one time I was sitting at a local mall waiting for my friends, sitting on one of the benches quietly on my phone to kill time. A flock of teenagers drifted in and settled down to the seats next to mine, I ignored them and they ignored me as strangers do in public. They were getting somewhat rowdy but that wasn't my place, they're not my kids and it's not like other peoples' kids listen to me anyway if I tried to tell them to behave.

Anyway the security showed up to inform them that it's about time for them to cut that shit out and leave the premises, which they sensibly agreed to do after remarkably minimal protest. Having observed the scene from the corner of my eye while pretending to focus on my phone, I realised that while the kids left, the security guy remained right there. Looking up, I realised that he was staring at me, expectantly.

I was just about to start explaining to the guard that I was not with those guys, as one of the boys in the receeding flock - already leaving, but still well enough within earshot to overhear me, apparently - paused for a moment and turned, calling out to me: "hey [generic gen Z name], you coming or what?" and the rest of the gang, seeing what he did there, burst into laughter. They didn't even break their stride, just did that casually in passing.

The guard turned back to me, saying nothing. he just stared at me with the full expression of a man who doesn't get paid enough to listen to explanations nor give a shit about distinguishing between the two. Using my mostly fully developed adult brain to contemplate my chances, I decided that if it wasn't already so before, then it would certainly now be a futile effort to start explaining to him that not only had I never met those kids in my life, that's not my name, I am twenty-four, and I have no idea whatsoever why that kid randomly decided to do that.

So I packed my dignity along with my other stuff back to my backpack and left for the library to wait for my friends there.

Kids that age aren't evil or necessarily even actively malicious. Most of them grow up to be perfectly well-adjusted, sensible people. The problem is that they're just clever enough to spot an opportunity to go "hey fuck this random stranger's day, too", and not hesitate for a heartbeat before proceeding to do so.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

the thing with trying to talk about my dad in any capacity is that anything i can say about him just paints an uncontrollably, increasingly bananas ass picture (which i guess immediately proves why i am a somewhat bananas ass person myself.) he was like somebody's loose OC. "my life is like a movie v//v" my dad grew up in an orphanage, like an honest to god orphanage, in Staten Island and whenever I try to look up pictures of it I routinely and almost exclusively get ones that look like theyve been through a war and/or a Scary Asylum Youtube Horror Series

he was a garbageman. he was a bartender. he was a crossing guard that was so good at his job they had to hire three people after he left to do what he was doing alone. he apparently got briefly entangled with the mafia?????!??!! he had the thickest Brooklyn accent that never went away and it's my favorite voice ever. he was, again, so terminally offline that he never used a computer and had a barely functional flip phone only. he liked baking. he could make friends with any stranger within 15-20 minutes. he beat cancer. he was in two episodes of Better Call Saul. he befriended a raven in Utah. he was endearingly fond of T-rexes. he was and is one of my favorite people, now and forever.

[your-averagewriter]

Wrong number...?

Summary: (y/n) gets a mysterious call from a wrong number claiming to be in her house but it's not what it seems...

Word count: 0.9K

Warnings: kissing, stalking (kinda?), sexual references

-

-

I pop a piece of popcorn in my mouth whilst walking through the kitchen. Because my parents weren’t home I decided to make some popcorn and watch a movie. Ethan’s meant to be here now but he’s late. My thoughts are interrupted by a ringing coming from the other side of the room.

I wander over and grab hold of the phone plugged in on the counter. Placing another piece of popcorn in my mouth I pick up the phone and lift it to my ear.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Hello.” A gravelly voice replies.

“Who are you?” I ask, curiously.

“You tell me who you are then I’ll tell you who I am, sound good?”

“It sounds like you’ve got the wrong number…” I trail off.

“Oh okay then.” He pauses and I go to put the phone down. “But before I go, can I ask you a question?” 

“I mean you just did but you can ask me another one. I might not answer but you can try.” I say with a small smirk.

“Do you like scary movies?” He asks and I tilt my head thinking about what an odd question that was to ask a stranger.

“Yeah I like ‘em,” I say eating another piece of popcorn.  “Although my boyfriend loves them, he must have watched them all.” I chuckle thinking about Ethan.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

I think about it for a second. “It’s got to be Halloween, the original, obviously.”

“That’s a good choice. You said you had a boyfriend?” He asks.

“Yes…”

“Are you with him now?”

“No, although he’s meant to be over right now.” I check my watch. “He’s late.”

“Oh no.” The deep voice responds through the phone. “What’s he like?”

“Why do you wanna know? You don’t even know my name let alone his?” I scoff quietly.

“I’m just interested, what is your name then?” He asks again.

“Seriously, why do you wanna know?” I ask, getting a little concerned.

“Well, I wanna know who I’m looking at.” He says and my face drops. I replay his words over and over in my head.

“Who you’re looking at…” I mumble under my breath, my eyes darting to the different doors in my view and I poke my head around the corners, cautiously. I lock the doors that I go past. “That’s not funny, Mister,” I say as I walk around the kitchen trying to secure my position.

“Why not? You’re adorable, twisting and turning looking for me.” His words only frighten me more as I look around hastily. “Now, do you think I’m inside or outside your house?” He asks, his voice unwavering.

“I don’t think you’re anywhere near my house! I think you’re pranking me.”

“You’re wrong.” I hear the same voice but this time it’s not through the phone, it’s from directly behind me.

I jump and turn around to stare at the man behind me. He’s adorned in a black cloth and Ghostface mask, some sort of stupid costume. Before I can run or fight back he places his hands on my hips and lifts me up onto the kitchen counter. I only watch in surprise, frozen by my fear that all I do is try and squirm out of his grip

“Get off of me!” I yell.

“Stay still.” He orders, his voice as deep if not more so than over the phone, and I hesitantly lower my hands and sit still on the counter for a second. “It’s just me.” He pulls off his mask revealing himself. Ethan stands in front of me in the costume, a smile on his face. The shock or horror must have been evident on my face from his reaction. “Oh, c’mon.” He says before my lips twist into a small smile. “It was funny, you’ve got to admit.” 

“Okay, it was a little funny,” I pause. “But you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?” He asks, matching my smile as his hands remain on my waist.

“Well, I have an idea,” I say and lean in, pushing my lips to meet his. Immediately, the kiss is full of passion and I can feel his hands grip my waist. My hands make their way up to his hair where they tangle in the messy curls drawing cute sounds from him. I feel him bite down gently on my lower lip so I open my eyes to meet his deep brown ones. He pulls away from me.

“I like your idea…” He trails off before placing his face just in front of mine, his breath flutters against my lips before he presses his lips on mine. I tilt my head slightly, allowing him more access as he trails soft kisses along my jawline before lowering his face to my neck. I sigh, but then he slowly pulls his face out from the crook of my neck.

“Should we take this upstairs?” He suggests with a smug smirk.

“I think that’s a good idea…” I trail off before he hoists me up from my waist. Wrapping my legs around his waist I chuckle as he carries me towards the stairs. “Ethan… This isn’t quite what I meant…” 

“I’m just being efficient.” He says pressing a couple of quick kisses to my forehead as I bury my head in the crook of his neck, embarrassed.

-

AN: I just watched Scream 6 and I loved it, I thought it was really good and I especially loved Ethan hence this fic.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[louanesays]

SCARY NIGHT ISN'T IT?

it's a scary night that's why you're screaming right?

...right?

☆ sum: Left alone on Halloween, you receive mysterious calls from an unknown number. How will you spend your night? Ghostface Geto comes to the rescue.

☆ cw: afab!reader, befora shibuya au, kñifeplay , fingəring, petnames, size kink, unprotected, slight bloød mentions MDNI!

a/n this turned out deeper then i thought. just watched the 1st 3 scream movies with my bf and i felt inspired...

banner by @aransmind !!!!!!!!

──★ wc: 2.3k

thanks to @ciellit for proof reading love you⋆.˚

Being alone is not how you imagined how your Halloween would be. Watching scary movies all by yourself, just because your boyfriend had a last-minute cult meeting to run.

If Suguru was here, movies wouldn't be such a bad activity. Cuddling, sitting between his legs, anything that would involve the two of you touching would be perfect, perfect for you to be precise.

By the time the third movie rolls around, your popcorn is almost out, and it's time to make another batch. As you walk into the kitchen you and your boyfriend share, your phone starts ringing. Who would call you on Halloween night?

You are hoping its the man himself, telling you that he is almost home, but an unknown number lights up on your phone.

"Hello?" you ask the person on the other side of phone, and a deep baritone voice calls back, "Who is this?" the man questions. "Who are you trying to reach?" you retort. "No one in mind, just trying to have a conversation." You go back to making popcorn while holding your phone between your shoulder and ear.

"Then there are more than a hundred websites for lonely souls like you. Good-bye." You slam the phone down and put the packet in the microwave, but the phone rings again. "But what if I want to chat with you?" the rich, deep voice rings in your ears again. "Well, if you find my number there, we can. Go try." You put the phone down again, hoping you won't receive another phone call.

Done with the popcorn, you're just about to calm down and convince yourself that he won't call again when the phone rings again. "What is your favorite scary movie?" the same voice asks, as if he doesn't understand hints.

"I don't particularly have a favorite one, but I like Saw. Is that all you wanted to ask?" You walk back to the couch and cover yourself with Halloween-themed blankets.

"No one really likes Saw," he argues, and as if you could hear the smirk in his voice, completely ignoring the other part. "Is that what you're watching right now?" You get a weird feeling in your stomach, as if he would know what you are doing, but he must assume it because of the surrounding noises.

You mumble a yes back while munching on your snacks, and after a moment of silence, he speaks again. "What's your name, doll?" you almost choke on popcorn at the nickname.

"You want to be friends or something?" you chuckle at your own joke, easing the tension, but he doesn't seem to be amused. "I just want to know who I am looking at."

You glance out the living room's windows, seeing the backyard but nothing that shouldn't belong there. Great, a prank call by a sexy-voiced stranger on Halloween night never sounds bad—if you weren't alone. But at the moment, it creeps you out, even though the voice sounds oddly familiar, you can't put a name to it.

"My boyfriend will be home soon, I would run if I was you" Trying to lighten your own mood, potentially trying to scare him away.

"Oh, your oh-so-special grade boyfriend?" He chuckled deeply, like it truly entertained him. "Look who's behind you, baby." Chills ran through your spine. "If I don't look, I'll never know," you sassed back at him.

"Oh, doll, trust me, you want to see me."

You look behind yourself but gladly see nothing, but as you turn back a man is standing there in the infamous ghostface mask, knife in his hand shining more then any kitchen knife could ever.

In most situations masked man would turn you on, but this time it scares you, considering the fact you should be alone in the house. You scream at him, jump over the back of the couch and start running.

Phone discarded on the couch—the only way of calling for help. After watching so many scary movies you should've known better. Adrenaline flowed through your veins, and your breath was short from running up the stairs and constantly looking behind you.

Your quick thinking wasn't the sharpest ever, but running up the stairs into a one-way place? What kind of cheap scary movie is this? He's fast behind you, tangling you down to the floor, knife to your throat, Adrenaline blurring your vision.

"Let's play a game" he murmured lowly, his hand skillfully turning the knife not cutting your skin. His eyes behind the mask skimming over your body, not like you could see that.

Your heart was drumming in your ears as he straddled your torso, oversized shirt riding up, exposing your stomach.

His knife started gliding over your collarbones then stilled at the start of the shirt, you carefully eyed his movements opened your mouth, sentence forming but then the knife started moving again, slicing through the material of your shirt.

A gasp left your mouth as but it didn't stop at your shirt, panties slit into 2 pieces also, leaving you almost bare on the cold tiles. You pushed your thighs together, as you felt yourself get wet from his actions.

"Who are you?" you ask naively, hoping he would answer the first question and the most important of them all. He cracked a laugh, his body shaking a bit as if you had told him some kind of joke.

He leaned in closer knife pointed in the puffy skin of your lower abdomen but not enough pressure to draw blood. "Wouldn't you like to know" he scoffs. Feeling like he's a Joker himself huh.

Even with a knife pointed on you, you couldn't help but roll your eyes "You never told me what this game is about" You replied breathlessly. He leaned rear, then his knife was tracing a way, back to your aching cunt again but this time drawing a line of blood.

Almost as if it were a paper cut, your adrenaline levels are through the sky now. You could get addicted to this feeling.

Suddenly, one of his hands retorts from your body and he moves his mask just so his mouth is exposed, but you can't see it; he's quick to trace his way up with his tongue but something cold on his lips catches you off guard.

Is that?

"S-Suguru, is that you?" you almost moaned. His head was now back up, his heavily pierced lips on display, and the biggest smirk you could ever imagine was on his lips.

"So quick to ruin my game, angel." His gloved hands reached for his mask, and in the next moment, it was flying to the other side of the room. Now, his deep purple eyes stared back at you.

Oh, that boyish smile is going to be the end of you.

"How about I finish what we started, hm?" he hummed, eyes searching yours for approval. You nodded, no sentence daring to come out.

His hands quick back at you, knife in his hand lightly poking at your lower ribcage, eyes staring deep into yours the other hand coming to cup your breast and his mouth latches onto your nipple, the feeling making you moan. His eyes never leaving yours.

Your hands wrap around his hand pulling at his scalp, making him moan around you. His hand drops the knife and he stops his work on your nipples to get his glove down.

His mouth goes back lapping at you other nipple, but his hand travels down to feel up your pulsing pussy. "So wet f' me doll" you moan back as a response, head cloudy by the stimulation.

He might've hit the jackpot with the Ghostface mask.

He collected some slick from your hole then pushed his finger in you, and one his fingers were bigger then two of yours, bringing instant relief to you. he started at a slow pace and then pushed another finger in, stretching you, and it felt better then ever.

He was pumping his fingers in and out of you, and you couldn't help but moan as he curled them just right knowing you better then the back of his hands, making you feel like putty between his hands, and he started circling his thumb on your clit and the pressure in your lower stomach started to tighten.

He isn't the one to decline your pleasure is he? If he would be, then he wouldn't be dressed up as Ghostface right now. Feeling you spasm around his digit makes him work faster and lean to you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

The high comes, body shaking, head cloudy, and your face has pleasure written on it, eyes rolling back and mouth open.

"such a little minx" he mumbles and he picks you up bridal style and presses a light kiss onnyour forehead, but leaves your shredded clothes, and the knife on the tiles. He drops you on the bed, and stands beside it to get rid of his other non-essential things like his other glove and robe, and his clothes.

Once both of you were naked, he was quick to get on top of you, grabbing your legs by your ankles folding you in half "putting that pretty pussy in display, hope you don't mind doll" he sweetly cooed but no remorse in his voice.

His hand stays holding your legs together, the other pumping his dick a few times, smearing the precum on it's head. He is running it through your folds, pussy still sensitive from coming earlier, making you moan.

He started slowly sliding it in inch by inch, when he was balls deep, he started rutting his hips in an inhuman pace, making you a moaning mess, more then you already were.

"you feel so much tighter when you're scared" he says to you. He might be right, the adrenaline he gave you earlier turned you up more then it should've. No one could ever do these things to your body he does, and both of you know that.

Hips fucking into you meanly, his fragrance overpowering your senses. Both hands traveling to your hips, and your now free legs rest on his shoulders. His actions, touches feel possessive making you clench even more around him as you feel yourself getting even more wet.

"that's it baby taking m' soo well" he grunts whimpering ever so lightly. Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps, his hair tousled on his back, like its glued to it by the sweat.

He loved this position, he could see your face and the pretty faces you're making, like scrunching your nose, mouth wide open moaning his name.

Suguru wasn't the one to fuck you in one position but he was really close. Why do you have to feel so good around him, he wasn't a one minute wonder. So he manhandled you onto your stomach.

Your ass moving on it's own, rising but his hands plant on your hips pushing you back down. "Let me try something new baby" he groans through gritted teeth.

He straddles your thighs from behind and pushes into you in a swift motion making both of you groan out at the feeling. One of his hands roams to your scalp and grabs your hair at the base forcing your head up.

The only thing that's missing is a camera from his hands taking a picture of you and of course a knife from your back.

Its not long before he's got you screaming his name but in this position rubbing against your spot making the knot in your stomach feel tighter, the relief feeling closer.

"s-sugu 'm gonna cum" your words come out muffled in the sheets, His other hand kneading the flesh of your ass making your pussy flutter around him, squeeze and helping him towards his finish.

"come f' me doll" your moans got louder Geto's hips were hitting everything, head dizzy from short breaths. eyes were rolling back into your skull as both of your were nearing your releases.

A deep moan was heard from Suguru as his head falls back but his pace doesn't falter, the knot in your stomach comes undone as he paints you insides white.

Your body feels spent, no thought can form in your brain, as you carelessly lay on the bed. Your boyfriend still inside you, catching his breath, stilling himself above you trying not to crush you.

He slowly pulls out, and white liquid spills out of you, staining the sheets under you. "I should bring out Ghostface more often"

Waking up next to Suguru, tangled in the sheets between your legs and hands was the best feeling you could ever imagine.

As the morning went by, you went to the front of the house watering some of the plants you still left out there, and the old lady next door, was sitting on her porch in a rocking chair "Good morning sweeatheart" she smiled at you and you greeted her back. She always sat there in the mornings taking in the clean air, and waiting for you to come out and have a little chat with her.

"heard you screaming last night, had a fun halloween?" she said while innocently smiling at you and your face reddened and the next word didn't come out as smooth as they were supposted to "Yeah, Suguru dressed up and scared me, we watched a few scary movies after" the least obvious thing you could come up with in the short notice, would she realize?

"Didn't take you as the frightened type, but glad you had fun" and with that she left the topic and your now not freezed body continued watering the plants and scurried back in the house to find Suguru on his back laughing loudly.

please do not translate my works or feed them to any sites / platforms without my consent. all rights belong to louanesays

taglist: @megumisdivinedogs @nillosgarden @loser-user69

[bakugoushotwife]

family man // touya todoroki

a/n: this request was adorable! i love dabi sm and my favorite delusional past time is pretending i can fix him

summary: touya never pictured being a family oriented man, yet he's traversing the aisles of a local grocery store in the early hours of the morning just to satisfy your pregnancy cravings---and he's never been happier.

cw: fluff, domestic dabi, let's pretend everything w him and his family is all good!, uh pregnancy ig

wc: 1.7k

He never thought he would be here. He was honestly surprised he had even lived this long, nevermind all the perks of life he finds himself surrounded by these days. He doesn’t even remember contemplating a future. Even when he was really young and his only dream was to be a hero, he imagined himself alone. 

But then he met you. You were…his lifeboat. He would have blown up on his family if he hadn’t stumbled across you in that grocery store that day. Of all the places to fall in love, he thought he was safe at the grocery store. Especially with his appearance and reputation, never in a million years did he imagine a dainty and cute little woman struggling to reach a jar of her favorite pasta sauce, perilously moved to the top shelf. 

You sigh in relief when you see him. He swears that’s the first time he’s ever gotten that response from a stranger before. Then you surprise him again when your eyes gleam with recognition, and you still smile. 

“Oh I know you! Dabi–League of Villains!” You hum, even adding your own inflection to his affiliation like it was a scary movie or something…not as dangerous. You point up to the jar. “I know it kinda goes against your whole m.o., but would you mind grabbing that jar for me?”

How could he say no to a face like that? You were breathtaking, and he wastes no time checking out the thickness of your thighs and the roundness of your ass before giving you a nonchalant nod. He strolls over, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “True fans call me Touya.” 

You laugh at his arrogant face, and that certainly humbles him. You’re gorgeous and you’re unafraid, those two made a dangerous combination. “I’m no fan, Touya.” You hum, leaning against your shopping cart. He reaches up for the jar, and you never take your eyes off of him. He feels it, he knows. He’s a little confused, though he rationalizes your friendliness to pity, maybe, or just a fetish of yours if he had to guess. He holds the jar out, and you make it a point to brush against his fingers when you take it from him, a cheeky grin on your face. 

His eyes widen slightly, and he nearly jerks away out of instinct, but there’s a glimmer in your eyes that tells him to pursue this, that there’s something there. So when you offer to let him come home with you to try the pasta sauce you made such a hassle for, he can’t help but give you a lopsided toothy grin, and follow after you. 

That leads him here, in the aisles of the same grocery store he stood in five years ago when he met you. A lot has changed since then, he thinks to himself while browsing the store for hot cheetos and chocolate covered strawberries, and the banana mochi they’re always out of. In any other event, he would think you’re nasty. Would he refuse to get it for you? Probably still no, but he would give you hell for it.

But now, he can’t blame you. It’s only his responsibility to get these things for you. It makes your life easier, which definitely makes his life easier. Sure the combo is wicked, but what baby Todoroki wants, she gets. He can’t deny the mother of his child anything, and if their daughter wants this ghastly diet, then he will drag his ass to the store at, he checks his phone, 1:02 AM, to get them for the loves of his life. 

He locates the items, and slinks off to checkout. He definitely never thought of kids. Even after you. He just assumed it was a part of his life he would never experience, why would anyone want kids with him? But for your three year anniversary, you asked to try. He was shocked, it took him days to really think about it and try to think of a baby. He struggled. He thought of you holding that baby cousin of yours, but that was different, it wasn’t yours. When he tries to make the baby look like him, he struggles harder. It’s easy to think of the image when the baby looks like you, instead. And he knows you’d make an amazing mother. You have the personality, the love in your heart, the desire. He can’t deny you that. He would be remiss to say he could break things off with you so you could find someone more suited to be a father, but he knows he’s too far in at this point. He could never let you go. So days later, when he comes to you and agrees to try for a real life human baby of his very own, he does it for you. Because he wants to show you he loves you and is willing to compromise. He’s willing to help you and take care of a screaming brat just because he’s wrapped around your finger. 

He didn’t imagine how much he would love it. He chuckles as he walks home, bags in hand, banana mochi secured. It’s like his life was separated into before you and after you. Everything he thought of pre-you was thrown out, and he’s been surprised with every twist that’s come after-you. No one would believe him if he admitted the giddiness in his step to get back home to his very pregnant wife, the woman who’s saved his life and made him another. No one would believe it if he told them that he’s spent hours scrolling through baby girl names on google and he actually picked the name your daughter will bear once she’s born. 

That’s fine, he doesn’t really need anyone else to believe him. Even when he strolls through the door of your shared home with a loud, begrudging sigh, he grins when he sees your shining face. He can’t pretend like your request bothered him, no matter how tough he wishes he could be in front of you. The sight of you wiggling your hips to get off the couch and waddle over and hug him, seven and a half months pregnant, is enough to make any man feel like he’s won the lottery.

He still remembers the day you told him that you were pregnant. You know how he hates massive celebrations or big flashy statements, so you came up with a more intimate and sweet plan.You just waited for him to get home that day, clutching the test tightly in your fist with a small pair of baby shoes you were able to crochet with all the time on your hands. When he comes in the door and you don’t greet him, he frowns. He’s prepared to make a dramatic scene when he pokes his head in the bedroom and sees you posing with the items. Your grin is impossibly wide and he can’t believe what he’s seeing. It took a while, but here you were, finally pregnant. He was filled with so much excitement but also so much fear, he only choked out a gasp and pulled you into his arms in response. He began to wrack his brain for a solution, on how to be a dad in nine months or less. He wasn’t even sure he was a good husband—but your loving and tender hand on his face brought him back to reality. Your smile is relaxed and you are nothing but ready. He knows if nothing else, you’ll teach him. 

But it turns out fatherhood is something that comes to him quite naturally. He baby-proofs the entire house the day you hit six months and he decides to have his sister host a giant baby shower. Even if he isn’t into big events, you are, and you deserved to be doted on and spoiled and given gifts before you gave him the greatest one of his life. 

That’s why he holds you like he does now, like he hasn’t seen you in years or like this is the last time he ever will. Because he’s so grateful, for everything you’ve given him and will continue to give for the rest of your lives, but he’ll never know how to tell you that. So he can only hug you tight and dangle the bags of your requested cravings in your face, a mischievous grin donning his features. 

“There mama, now baby girl can let you sleep.” He says, resting a gentle hand over the bump you’ve formed. It’s not yet big enough to keep you from hugging, and he’ll relish that for now by running his palm over his daughter’s temporary home. 

You cheer happily, digging through the bags and going for the banana mochi first. He chuckles, he knew that you would. He feels the baby kick into his hand upon your first bite, and he shakes his hand at his women. So dramatic. But he can’t deny the satisfaction he feels when he crouches to her level, his gravelly tone low just for the girl growing inside. 

“Hey, let mama rest or you’ll come out all lumpy or something.” He huffs, his turquoise eyes flickering up to you when the baby responds to his voice with more kicking. 

“She will not be lumpy—don’t lie to her!” You snicker, resting your hand on top of snow-white hair. 

He pokes his tongue out at you like it was supposed to be a secret. “I was trying to help ya, now you get what you get.” He chuckles, kissing the top of your belly before rising to kiss you too, hand still on your stomach. 

You return his kiss but shake your head. “She kicks because of you, you goober. She’s performing for her dad.” You hum, easily downing the snacks. He contemplates the idea, his heart warming. Maybe his daughter did like the sound of his voice. He hums appreciatively, and sighs his content. 

“Well, if yer listenin’, it’s past your bedtime.” He huffs, but he means this to you as well. It’s been getting harder to sleep the bigger you get, so he’s having to be more of an authority on your care than he’d like to be. “Off to bed, both of you.” He grumbles, leading you down the hall for more cuddles, back rubs, head scratches, or even more snacks if that’s what you want, whatever will get you to sleep. His night will be spent wondering if his daughter will look like you like he had always hoped when he finally gets to meet her.

[perfectlywrongformend3s]

Phone Call-Steve Harrington

A/n: So I decided to put two things together. I put scream and Stranger Things together. I just thought it would make a good one-shot so please enjoy.

-Samantha 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

We were all in Max's trailer trying to come up with a plan to kill Vecna. I was standing by the phone with Max next to me. 

" So, how are we supposed to take him down?" I questioned 

" I was thinking we could all go in groups so some go to the upside down while the other half go to the Creel house." Nancy stated to us

" So who's going where?" Robin questioned 

Before anyone could answer, the phone rang, making me turn to answer. " Hello?" I questioned 

" Do you like scary movies?" they asked 

" Who is this?" I was confused with the questions they randomly asked. 

They responded back with, " Tell me your name, I'll tell you mine." 

I immediately responded with, " I don't think so." I hung up the phone. I then took a deep breath. " Who was that?" Steve questioned 

I turned around to face the group. I shrugged, " I don't know if some guy asked me if I liked scary movies." I explained 

" Well, that's not creepy?" Max said next to me

" Yea..." before I could get anything else out the phone rang again. 

" Is he calling again?" Dustin questioned 

I groaned and mumbled. " He better not." 

I picked the phone up and said. " Listen asshole..." Only to get interrupted 

" No, you listen here you little bitch. You hang up on me again and I'll cut you like a fish understand." I felt a huge chill go through my whole body. I dropped the phone making Max pick it up and put it back on the wall. 

" Did he just say that?" Nancy said 

Steve's POV

I kept my eyes on Y/n cause she looked pale after what he said on the phone. I stood up and walked over to her slowly. Once I reached her I put a gentle hand on her shoulder. " Are you doing okay?" I quietly said 

She shook her head. " I just got threatened by someone." She mumbled 

Which made me pull her into me. " Hey, we're going to figure this out." I reassured her

I glanced at the rest of the group hoping they knew what to do. " How about we track the number?" Robin questioned 

" We would if we knew the number." Dustin stated 

They all let out a sigh of defeat. I slightly glared at them and pointed to the shaking friend." Guys were going to find out who it is." I said hoping it was cheerful enough

I kept trying to calm Y/n down which was slowly working. " We're going to catch who did this. Okay don't worry." I whispered to her. 

She nodded and pulled away, but stayed close to my side. 

" So what's the plan?" Nancy questioned 

" Well, we could always wait for another call and see if we can track the number." Robin once again suggested 

" What if this person doesn't call right away." Max asked 

I was about to say something, but there was a knock on the door. " Who's that?" Robin mouthed 

Which only made me shrug my shoulders. I let go of Y/n/n and walked over to the door. I went to open it, but got stopped by someone grabbing my arm. I turned to find Y/n looking terrified. " What if it's him?" She whispers with a shaky tone. I never thought about that. " Well if it is, we're sitting ducks right now." Eddie said which was a fact. 

I backed away from the door. " Well we can't stay in here even if it is a random person pranking her." I said 

Your POV

I moved over to the couch next to Nancy and Eddie. I didn't want to tell them how much I was panicking, but I am. I kept asking myself if I was going to die. I mean I'm only eighteen, which is way too young to stop living. I was terrified, I snapped back to reality by Nancy and Eddie trying to get my attention. 

" Hey Y/n/n...you okay?" Nancy questioned 

" What..." I questioned and paused some before saying, " Yea, I'm fine. Don't worry." I said softly 

Dustin came over to me. " It's okay if you're not okay...you know that right." He calmly said 

I bit my bottom lip a little. " I'm just scared, what if it's not some prank and I actually get..." I got interrupted 

" Don't say that, okay. We're going to keep you safe. I'll keep you safe." Steve said 

I was fiddling with my fingers while listening to Steve. I saw Dustin's hand grab my right while Nancy took my left. Steve then squatted down in front of me putting his hands on my knees. 

" We're all right here, Y/n/n." Robin softly said 

I looked around at everyone in the small trailer we were in. I jumped a little when there was another knock. I felt Steve slowly rub reassuring circles on my knee. 

" Nobody moves a muscle." Steve whispered 

It happened again, making us all go quiet. It didn't stop. " Maybe we should see who it is?" Erica whispered finally speaking 

" What if it's the person from the phone?" Max questioned 

" Who is it?" Dustin asked

Which made Steve and Eddie scold him. " That's how people die in horror movies." Eddie whispered 

Before any of us could say something the person at the door spoke. " It's Lucas..." they said 

We all stayed quiet. " Dustin, Max, Erica. I know you guys are inside." he said 

Dustin motioned for Max to look out the window. She walked over slowly, then peeked around the corner. " It's him." she said, walking over to the door to pull it open. " Wait Max, make sure it's actually him." Dustin said 

She thought, but got stopped before she could say something. " What happened at the Mall last summer?" Erica said 

" We were fighting the Mind Flyer." he said 

Everyone let out a sigh of relief which made Max open the door. " I'm so sorry, Y/n/n." he immediately said after walking in. 

" What do you mean by that, Sinclair?" Steve said with a protective tone

Lucas put his hands up...

" Steve, it wasn't me. Believe me, it was one of the guys on the basketball team." 

" Well, that's not cool man. Tell your friends to shut it down." Steve warned 

Lucas sighed, " They weren't actually going to do anything. They just wanted to scare her plus they saw it in a movie." He explained 

Steve let out a breath of relief and rubbed my knees. " You doing okay now, Y/n." 

I smiled and nodded, " Still a little shaken, but knowing everything was a prank I'm doing better," 

He gave me a gentle smile. " Good, so back to the plan, people." He ordered while sticking close to me now, not that I minded. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't know about this one, I hope it made sense, cause to me it does but not sure. Let me know how you guys like this one. Also feel free to request anything, I'll be happy to write for you. 

again enjoy...

-Samantha

[blu3-j]

Welcome...Home..?

Overworked! GN! Reader x Welcome Home Crew

Chapter 2

Tw: none

The main character has woken up from drifting off to sleep while watching Welcome Home. Here's the twist (which isn't much of a twist for fanfiction like this, but regardless): the main character of Welcome Home, Wally Darling, talked directly to them! And now the reader must navigate through their morning when they find an unexpected surprise!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 l Chapter 4

The first thing you woke up to was the blaring alarm on your phone. A jolt of energy washed over you as you bolted up from your seat.

Splash! Oh, no.

Looking down, your lap was now a mess. The cup of unfinished instant ramen now sat spilt on the couch.

"Oh, no, neighbor!" Next came the voice. That same, gentle, monotone voice you had gotten so familiar with.

The rest of the morning was a haze for you. Wally Darling, the puppet you had gotten to know a little about the night previous, was talking to you. Again. Which, at that point, didn't bother you as much as it did the first time. No, this time what caught you off guard, was that he was right there. In front of you. He wasn't as big as you, only merely shy of three feet. But he was there. Right there.

Another puppet walked up to Wally to see what the commotion was all about. Then another. A giant bird? And...a regular guy dressed in mailman attire. He was closer to a normal human height, you assumed only being about four feet tall. The bird cooed over you as she helped you up from the couch and brush off the excess instant ramen. Which by this point was long forgotten. "How did they get here? Who are they? Am I still dreaming? Am I dead? " The sound of dishes clanking together caught your attention and looking over, there was...a giant lanky puppet. Green, with multiple pairs of limbs. Wait, were those antennas?

In the corner of your eye, you saw two more puppets over by your bookshelf. A gray puppet was flipping through the various books, eventually settling on the one you had kept about butterflies from when you were a little kid. A second smaller one in a pink dress ran up to him with various trinkets in her hands, excitedly showing them to the other who merely glanced at them and mumbled a comment or two.

You heard two more voices back in the kitchen. Looking back over, there were two more strangers in your house that had originally gone unnoticed. One was a large blue dog that leaned against the counter. You assumed he was cracking jokes due to the green puppet's laughter while the dog occasionally passed over a dish or two to help the green puppet clean. The other was a smaller puppet that stood to the other side of the green puppet. A sun? A star, maybe? The smaller of the two was occasionally handed a dish to dry and put away while she walked around gallantly and ranted dramatically.

You were dumbfounded. Who were these people? How...how did they get here? How are they walking??? Speaking????

"Um...hello?" The mailman puppet called out to you and reached out for your arm while Wally tugged on your shirt to get your attention. You couldn't move. You could barely make a sound, only managing to get out a few struggling stammers that didn't even form a single coherent word. Feathers graced your back, and a wing reached over your shoulder to gently lead your head to look back at her.

"Oh, goodness, dear! Are you okay?" Her being a giant walking, talking, rainbow bird didn't help you clear your mind, but her gentle demeanor and caring eyes and tone did help you speak again, this time more clearly.

"...I...I think I need to sit down." It was barely more than a whisper, and the puppets worrying over you had to strain their ears to hear you. But they understood immediately and guided you to an empty clean chair. Wally climbed up onto your lap once you sat down.

"Neighbor, I know this is sudden...and maybe scary, but you're okay!" His felt hand reached for yours and he squeezed. "We don't know how we got here, either. The episode was just ending, and we all were going to go back to our houses, but then....then..." His voice trailed off. The orange puppet finished his explanation.

"We just woke up here, Ms./Mr./Mx." The puppet took off his cap to look at you more clearly. Was this even real? "We hope you don't mind us. We're still trying to find a way back to Home." The gray puppet walked over with a book in his hands, the smaller excitable puppet quick to latch onto him and follow.

"I take it you're Y/N L/N?" He closed the book as he walked over. The others glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and he rolled his eyes and opened the book once again to the inside of the cover. On the inside wrote: "This book belongs to: Y/N L/N." You nodded lightly, and the mailman spoke up.

"Well, ain't that just?" He raised his hand to you and smiled. "I think it's right time we introduce ourselves to you. I'm Eddie Dear. Your local mailman!" He stood there and stared, waiting patiently for you to shake his hand. Your arm shook as you reached out your free hand and grasped his. He gladly shook your hands without a moment's glance and let go.

Another hummed and spoke up. The gray puppet again. "You're right, Eddie. If you're hopefully going to be our host while we look for a way back to Home, you should know your guests." He took a step forward, choosing not to attempt to shake your hand; the puppet with a dress continued to cling close to him, he spared no glance in her direction. She bounced with more excitement every step closer the pair got to you. For having fake eyes, her eyes almost appeared to sparkle, just like a regular human's. "I'm Frank Frankly, the neighborhood's most knowledgeable residen-" The smaller puppet cut Frank off.

"And I'm Julie Joyful! It's so amazing, fantastic, wonderful that I get to meet you!" She squealed out. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun! I have so many games we could play together! Oh, do you like gardening? I love gardening! Maybe we can do some gardening together sometime!" Julie rambled on without a single pause for you to get a word in. Frank had to put a hand to her shoulder for her to stop and realize she had gotten carried away. A quick apology was uttered from the excited puppet, still as eccentric as ever. Then, the nervous bird stepped into your view, holding her wings close to her chest as she smiled politely.

"I'm Poppy Partridge, dear. I do hope we aren't a bother to you." She stepped closer and brushed her wing over your bangs and held them up to get a better look at your eyes. You couldn't help but feel almost entranced by the puppets around you. This shouldn't be real. Your eyes widened, and despite that, you felt as though you couldn't see enough of your surroundings. Poppy gasped and her brows furrowed. "Oh, dear! You don't look well, dearie. Have you been getting enough sleep? Have you been eating enough?" She cooed and fretted over you as she held the side of your face with her wing. It was odd, but strangely comforting; like a mother's reassuring embrace. You remained silent and opted to stare at her. How is this real?

BRIIIIIIING~!

The sound of your phone caught your attention and out of habit you swiftly grabbed it up and turned off your alarm. You didn't have time for this.

"I...." You stared absentmindedly at the screen of your phone, looking back at the notification.

"Get ready for work!!" It read in bold letters.

 "I...I need to get ready for work." Your voice was soft and unheard by the other puppets around you. Except for one.

"Okay," Wally gently piped up. "You can get ready for work, Y/N. We'll take care of things here for you." His smile widened and he squeezed your hand once more. "You take all the time you need. And when you're ready, we'll be waiting here for you, okay?" His dark eyes stared up into yours. That's when it all caved in for you. This was real. But you don't have time for this. Your face began to feel hot, your lip quivered...but you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath. Your eyes met his.

"Thanks, Wally."

"Of course, Y/N." He quickly moved out of your lap once you began moving to stand. Then you pretended things were normal again. You hurried to your room and grabbed a change of clothes, took a quick shower, and got your things organized in your bag. The thought of the living puppets in your house was shoved to the back of your mind. You don't have time for this. Hoisting the heavy bag onto your shoulder, you rushed to the front door.

"Wait!" A voice called out to you. Turning back, it was Poppy. "You're not leaving without breakfast, are you? And do you have lunch packed?" Was she really concerned for you?

A new voice called out to Poppy as the green puppet walked towards the two of you. He held out a small paper bag in one hand and a lunch container you had tried to use so long ago. You found you never had enough time or energy to pack it anymore. "It's alright, Poppy." He looked you in the eyes. "I know the tired eyes of a hard worker when I see one." He handed you the bag and container. "There wasn't much, but I made do. Here you go, shrimp. The bag has breakfast you can eat on the go, and the container has your lunch. Go get 'em, kiddo!" He ruffled your hair and smiled. You couldn't help but stare in awe at the tall puppet. But you don't have time for this. It took a moment, but you pushed the panic to the back of your mind and smiled.

"Thanks." You turned towards the door before looking back at them. "I guess I'll see you all...later..then." A pair of sparkling eyes shot your direction, and Julie jumped up from her spot on the floor, waving her arms up and down wildly.

"BYE, Y/N!!!" She squealed. The others were all quick to turn to you and wave with bright smiles. A chorus of goodbyes and farewell wishes followed you as you walked through the door. It almost made you laugh. You haven't felt like this in a long time. Happy. And not so...alone.

But you don't have time for this. You walked to your car and got in.

"Time for work."

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PT. 1]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

NOTES: hey, hi, hello, its me isa mins-fins back with another BANGER 😍‼️ make sure to hit that subscribe button for more epic fanfiction 😋💥 okay but seriously, i've been writing this for almost TWO MONTHS (began in aug, first part wrapped up in nov) and its been a journey holy shit 😭😭 i dont remember why i randomly started this draft but i did and now its become this monstrosity, almost 21k words and were only halfway there, sorry, there's unfortunately more suffering awaiting, but dont worry, happy ending!! of course, user junjiie, i love you 💗, thank you for again listening to my unhinged rants about this thing and consuming all of the spoilers, you deserve love, and an endless supply of mark photocards 😊😊 as for everybody else who reads my stuff, thank you for sticking around despite the fact that i disappeared for about three weeks, please enjoy this mess 🤗

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BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had watched too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

THE NEXT DAY GOES AS USUAL, DAD AND MOM bicker at the breakfast table, leave kisses on mark's forehead before letting him go off. the heightened smell of pine was all that met mark's nose, his senses freaking out as he stepped into the cool october air. it's still eight in the morning, it shouldn't be this cold. just a month ago the sun was attempting to burn off his skin with it's murderous rays, and now it's obscured behind gray clouds. hopefully it doesn't rain, he forgot to bring an umbrella, and mom would kill him if he turned up at home with his clothes drenched. he assumes that he's gotten pretty good at predicting the weather, and judging by the pattern the clouds form in the sky, it won't rain today.

history is his last class of the day, and mark immediately found out that history is the only class you two share. donghyuck runs his mouth in his ear all day, something about junior year really being the one where you lose your identity, mutterings about drinking and partying falling from his lips.

his chin leans against his hand as he complains about jaemin not giving him homework answers, and mark releases a small sigh, drawing a small snort from his best friend. "you getting bored of me now?" he's quick to ask, aggressively shoving his shoulder against mark's.

mark grunts, nose scrunching as he sees the elation donghyuck shows. "you've been talking forever, do you not get tired?"

"someone has to entertain you".

"i'm not entertained, i'm annoyed".

donghyuck huffs, an eye roll being his response to mark's insult. he never lets it get to his head, donghyuck has always been the least sensitive between the two of them. his lips curl up into yet another smile of glee, overjoyed by mark's irritation.

"it's the seniority getting to you, grandpa".

mark shares an incredulous with him, scoffing as he grabs his bag from where he let it sit beside him. giggles spill from donghyuck's lips, his face red at the sight of mark's furrowed eyebrows. "not even a year older than you.."

"you're still old!"

donghyuck sings out the words in the way of a melodic tune, whistling in the air. mark again mutters something about not being old, and donghyuck sticks out his tongue. "see you later oldie".

mark's face scrunches, but he bid donghyuck a goodbye anyway. he's been a constant in his life, getting called old by an annoying sixteen year old isn't exactly the kind of thing that puts stress on his life, he'll be fine, there's definitely worse the world could throw at him, and lee donghyuck just barely scratches the surface.

after lunch, he has history for a double period. he usually disassociates through the first forty five minutes, his teacher is a nice woman, yes, but she takes so long to get to the point. he's read through the topics time and time again, he's simply relearning them to get the last few credits he needs to graduate.

he'll be done by the time the second semester rolls around, so that isn't much of a worry.

when he slides into his seat, he wants to crane his head back to look for you, but just as his head connects the dots, attendance begins, and he hears you mutter a small 'here' when the teacher calls your name.

"mark lee?"

he glances up, straightening his posture. "here" he replies, licking his lips.

the dragging of your pen against the paper of your notebook stops, mark knows it's yours because he listened to the same sound yesterday up close when he asked you about the library.

the first forty five minutes of class fly by, mark manages to keep himself from falling asleep while his teacher goes on about something he'd already learned about years prior.

then, she stops, the shuffling of desks are heard in the room, and his teacher sighs as she places her hands against her desk. "as i said yesterday, your project is about important historical events, you can use these next few minutes to brainstorm with your partners".

she then sighs with her hands clasped together. "no funny business" she scolds, her tone reminiscent of a mother angry at her children.

a click of the tongue sounds as mutters begin getting louder, mark's chest tightens as he glances around the room, watching everyone else get up to discussing with their partners.

of course, he has to go to you.

he stands from his place and drags a chair over to you, eyes squeezing shut at the sound it emanates. "sorry".

you instantly squint, a scrunch of your nose adding to your expression. "did you just apologize for.. nothing?"

mark swallows, his lips pursuing. he doesn't have a response for that, apologies falling from his lips are programmed into his speech. the way you asked makes him feel as if something is wrong with his manner of speaking, he isn't sure why he thinks about it in that way though.

"i don't know i.." his words drift off into nothing, there isn't a response to that one, because mark has no idea why he says what he does. "i'm sorry".

you respond with a chuckle, and mark's eyes miraculously widen. he just did it again, and it felt completely normal. one click to your pen. your lips stretch into yet another neutral smile, the prospect amusing you. "alright, what should our topic be?"

mark pauses, scratching his nails against the wooden table. his eyes drifts over to your notebook, and you close it upon catching his gaze. his lips press into a thin line, a breath in his teeth. "maybe the industrial revolution..?"

it's simply the first thing he could say at the moment, he wasn't exactly thinking. you blink, using a hum as your reply this time. you map out the several features on mark's face, his big brown eyes shine with anticipation, and it gets difficult to hide your smile.

"unless you wanna do something else" mark is quick to add, his words a small whisper. "i want to hear your suggestions".

he observes the act of your expressions changing, your eyebrows pinching together in a questioning manner. you don't seem to mind, he gathers. "it's alright, i would've said the bubonic plague or something but that's been dried up countless times i assume".

mark breaks into a small smile, relaxing against the chair. "okay, the industrial revolution it is" he whispers, hands clasped together. "do you still want to go to the library today or..?"

"i can't make it today".

your voice lowers exponentially, eyes casting to the side. mark gazes, as if attempting to read your inner most thoughts. you don't exactly make them clear, that's puzzling, mark almost wants to ask what the deal is, but he assumes you'd probably cuss him out if he did.

he presents his warmest smile to you. "it's okay, i can find sources for today, we can begin searching together tomorrow".

you don't nod, simply stare back. mark blinks, avoiding your eyes as he glances around the room. "i don't really want to put that all on you, i can still gather sources i just can't stay after school.."

mark is the one who nods, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. "that's fine, you think you can stay tomorrow though?"

god mark feels like such an asshole asking that, he tries to keep his eyes everywhere but directly in front of him, because he's afraid of getting decked in the face.

but instead, you chuckle. "yeah tomorrow is fine, sorry for being so.. inconsistent".

mark then shakes his head, hoping the movements would reassure you in some way. "it's alright, thank you for telling me".

your lips stay pressed together, another small hum vibrating from you. you again run out of responses, so mark speaks up. "let's work well together, yeah?"

is that really the correct choice of words? think about it mark.

mark already thinks too much, if he thinks more, he might begin feeling tears stream down his cheeks. he doesn't want to seem.. jumpy, even if there are voices screaming at him with their pitches so high blood might start pouring out of his ears.

and finally, you nod, which gets a small smile out of mark.

MARK READS ON AND ON ABOUT THE INDUSTRIAL revolution until the words burn into his brain, until the sun goes down and his mom is casting him strange looks every time she walks past his open door. around the fifth time she did a lap, she paused as she watched mark flip through the many books scattered around his bed. "what is going on here?" she inquires, and mark glances up as he's midway through reading about british imperialism, a small smile on his lips. "this is for my project" he whispers, clear fatigue in his voice. she narrows her eyes, puzzled by the manner he's acting in.

"it's almost ten o'clock, mark".

ten isn't that late, he would usually muse, but there's a pointed look she sends him that leaves the words resting on the tip of his tongue. "okay, i'll go to sleep now.." he mutters, licking his lips.

she smiles softly, tapping her finger against his door. "sleep for real, mark, don't read all night".

"i don't read all night" he argues to the air. he knows that isn't true, he can't argue about it to his mom. he crosses his arms over his chest, imitating the stubborn front donghyuck always puts up.

she utters something akin to a 'sure' and gives one last look to mark before walking down the hallway. mark only casts one last glance in the direction of his door, then he picks up the books he littered across his bed to shove into his backpack.

he isn't exactly sure why he couldn't stop thinking about your neutral smile. mark has only interacted with you three times in two months, yet there's something there that keeps him grounded, his mind warns him of something, but you can't be terrible, you seem practically harmless.

mark isn't new to knowing people with somewhat shitty parents, but he feels as if there's something more there. mark really can't judge from a one off interaction he wasn't even involved in besides watching, how can he concoct something like this about you in his head when you barely talk to him as it is? he can't just make shit up before actually sitting down to get to know you.

he stares out his open window, the night breeze comes in with a rush reminiscent of ocean waves. he switches off his lights and stares up at the ceiling, hair splayed behind him as he waits for the exhaustion to take over.

he's bad news mark.

but what does mark know? this could just be his anxiety's biggest manifestations, he's making shit up. he's guessing based on the few interactions you two have had, and if he thinks further, it seems that you don't exactly enjoy his presence.

mark doesn't get much sleep that night.

that isn't as crazy as it should be, mom asks about it at breakfast the next morning, catching the dark circles under his eyes. he manages to utter an excuse about sounds outside or something, it was barely believed, she squinted at him with pure incredulity in her eyes, but he quickly scarfed down the remaining waffles on his plate and rushed to school, weighed down by his backpack containing thick books.

donghyuck made an awful lot of remarks about him accidentally killing someone with his backpack. he had the urge to purposefully swing it around to hit the younger with his backpack, but he kept such thoughts to himself, he could get revenge on donghyuck another time. maybe he'll hit him in the head with a metal pan again, who knows?

the lack of sleep exhibits itself in mark's barely functioning body as a whole. seven separate times during the day he almost dozed off during class, his teachers gave him the benefit of the doubt, him practically snoring on his desk was nothing new, he gets a pass because he's the kid with good grades.

by the time last period rolls around, mark forgets everything else that happened today. two hours of sleep usually don't do him this bad, but considering he'd been constantly getting over seven hours of sleep this week, two basically rendered him dead.

his hand slammed onto his desk a few too many times, he jolted up a few too many times. his eyes narrowed as he yawned again, doing his regular glance around the classroom. he counts each of the heads he catches, noticing some missing, but only a certain missing one is alerting.

you aren't here.

mark's lips turn downward, a weathering frown now overtaking his former exhaustion. mrs. lim took attendance thirty minutes ago, how did he miss you not responding to the call of your name? he narrows his eyes at your empty desk, feeling a pit form in his stomach.

where is he? his lips pursue as he looks forward, now unable to care about his fatigue when he was now consumed with confusion on where the hell you were.

did you just decide to go m.i.a for absolutely no reason? god what an asshole move. do you even know how difficult it is to do a project on your own?

mark doesn't let the anger fester for long, though, because it then becomes worry. maybe something happened, you told him you'd be able to stay today, did you just lie to him?

okay, so maybe his anger does fester a little bit, but he can't stay angry at really anyone for long (not even donghyuck, annoying guy 101). his fingers press uncomfortably onto the straps of his backpack as he makes his way over to the library, maybe you won't show up, but he still has to finish this project anyway.

he drops the books down with a resounding thud, immediately getting to jotting down notes after apologizing to the librarian. his head simply leaned downward, threatening to fall and crash against the table at any moment. he isn't sure how he remains awake, but he manages to keep himself up enough that he's able to write at least two pages of notes.

he's about to begin drooling, an embarrassing feat really, but he can't contain his weariness.

and just as he's about to pass out—

"are you good?"

mark jolts up straight away, a gasp of surprise leaving his lips as he takes in the words. when he whips his head back, he immediately frowns, it's you. he sucks a breath between his teeth, shoulders relaxing. "yeah yeah i'm just tired i.."

mark would've spit out some snarky interjection when his eyes drifted downward. then, in their usual fashion, they widened, and a grimace made it's way to his face.

a barrage red and purple decorate your knuckles, the skin between your fingers threatening to open. he barely holds back his wince, it looks painful, so painful. why the fuck are your knuckles split?

"are you alright?"

you deliver a snort. "is that the question you're always going to ask me?"

"oh my god! you're— your hands jesus what the hell even happened!?"

mark grabs your hands to get a closer look, your rough skin clashing against his in a burning manner. you promptly draw your hands away, as if in a protective stance, as if.. weirded out by the whole ordeal. "nothing, it's fine".

"it's fine?" mark parrots, sharing an incredulous look with you he normally wouldn't share with anyone. "your knuckles are one snap away from bleeding!"

your face twitches, and you bring a finger to your lips. "don't yell in a library, it isn't that serious".

"it isn't—" mark cuts his own speech off, closing his eyes to try and keep himself calm. "what happened?"

you mutter something unintelligible at first, fingers picking at the sides of your hands. "i just made someone mad.."

"you just made someone mad?"

you shrug your shoulders, startlingly mundane about the whole thing. mark stares, an intake of fear entering him. your face is flat, the only expression mark could make out was slight irritation, but not at him.. at least he hopes.

"you weren't in class today" he whispers, now quickly changing the subject as you drag the chair beside him back, settling onto it.

"i skipped" you speed through your response, grinding any of the pain you feel in your knuckles between your teeth. "looked like shit, mrs. lim would've had a heart attack if i walked into her room".

"you didn't think to go to the nurse or something?"

you narrow your eyes, tongue probing at the side of your cheek. "you ask so many questions, that has to be your thing".

mark sucks his teeth. "..sorry for worrying?"

you blink, a neutral smile spreading across your lips. "you're a weird guy".

there it is. there the word is. weird. you think mark is weird. is mark weird? if mark is weird, then what does that make you? is it weird that he has empathy for others? is it weird that he holds empathy for you?

"are you insulting me?"

your head shakes back and forth, fingers prodding at the corners of your book. "not quite, i've just never met someone like you".

"well usually someone having split knuckles is cause for concern".

your face again drops, and the awkward chuckle mark hoped would quell such worries instead died down in his throat. he watches the way you gaze upward then downward, mapping each of mark's features with your tentative eyes. "it's not that big of a deal" you mumble, twiddling your thumbs as you quickly avert your gaze.

you avoid his eyes in the same way a child does when they fear upsetting their parents, your lips curl down into the exact appearance of disappointment.

mark's mouth is completely dry, he doesn't really know how to deal with.. this. he levels at you with a blank stare, attempting to see through you, maybe get into your thoughts and finally figure out why you don't find your knuckles being split being the huge problem it is.

"okay.. um, can you show me the sources you found then?"

mark is trying his best to not make it awkward, how do you not even release a wince at the pain you must be experiencing? you simply engross yourself in that pen and paper once again.

it's a bit difficult to make conversation when all he currently sees are the bruises decorating your hands. he grimaces as if you're some exhibit he isn't fond of, and from the flickers of your eyes he catches in his peripheral vision, you clearly take notice.

"you gonna stop looking at me like that?"

"sorry!" mark is quick to sputter, his blinks as rapid as his response. "i'm sorry it just.. doesn't that hurt?"

a breath falls from your lips, the beginnings of a laugh making it's way up into the air. "it's nothing i haven't felt before".

mark wants to ask again, but he keeps in such urges. again, he's still afraid you'll punch him in the face if he opens his mouth again. mark assumes he just doesn't get it, maybe how you feel is vastly different to how he feels. "can i at least walk you to the nurses office?"

another question, mark feels his stomach curl into something terrible, but instead of the blow up reaction he expects, you simply pause, blinking.

you press your teeth against each other, thinking it over with your eyes trailing the shelves of the library. one click to your pen, a small sigh falling from your lips. "fine.. i guess".

you guess, well that's a start. mark can make well with that.

you gather books as best as you can quickly, shoulders tensing. mark urges to grab your hand, maybe soothe it over with his thumb, but he suppresses such urges in fear of weirding you out (because you already deemed him a 'weirdo').

"you know.. if you ever need to tell someone something, i'm here".

it's a flimsy suggestion, a small uttering mark could only muster with the worry in his heart. you shot him a glance, the abrupt movement of your head almost startling mark backward. you stare, the expression on your face indecipherable, mark wishes he could reach into your mind, pull out your innermost thoughts and figure out exactly why you think the way you do.

your eyes stay narrowed for a moment, simply staring at mark, frozen in front of the nurse's office. you click your tongue, scratching at the start of your sweater. "sure".

sure, sure. it's not a no, that's good. it's not a yes, which isn't exactly assuring. it's a sure. sure. there's a start, it's a beginning.

you don't exactly sound sure, your eyes cast around your surroundings, and your lips sink into your bottom teeth. the anxiety permeating from you is reminiscent of mark's own.

well maybe you two aren't that different.

i'm here if you want to talk, mark repeats in his own head, and he begins biting the skin off his lips.

sure is your response.

it's a good enough response for a start.

THE TITLE OF 'FRIENDS' ISN'T YET ESTABLISHED between you two. you're still an enigma, a mystery, mark is still just the tiniest bit afraid you'll attempt to punch him in the face if he says something you don't agree with. you're an easy person to work with, in comparison to some of mark's other project partners. you two equally split up the workload, you don't mind taking up most of the work, you tell mark it's okay, even with bandages arranged around your bruised knuckles, you could jot down notes about the fucking industrial revolution all day. mark makes out that you don't necessarily enjoy talking, you communicate with your feeble expressions.

again, you two aren't established friends, and considering you only have one ninety minute class together in one whole school day, it would be a turbulent effort to even attempt a friendship.

you can be summed up as simply 'project buddies', there isn't anything more to it, but that's because mark has some fear instilled in him directed towards you. you don't glare, but it still appears that you do.

you continuously scribble in your notebook, biting your fingernails, the same anxious impulses mark finds himself unconsciously doing. day in and day out mark clocks a few more similarities between you two, that's interesting.

you become less of an apparition and more of an actual person, october begins coming to a close, temperatures falling at the rapid rate of the leaves. in the next coming weeks, he'll probably begin wearing jackets.

"i think maybe we should start going to each other's places after school?"

you pause in your dragging when mark brings that up, one click to your pen. you lick your teeth, whole body tensing. "we can't go to my place" you clear your throat. "my parents.."

you stop midway through your own sentence, it's as if you were restrained, unable to utter the rest of it in.. fear? you avoid mark's gaze, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

mark blinks, he sort of expected that answer. another click to your pen, you continue dragging it against your notebook page. mark almost leans over to check what you're doing, but he keeps himself still. you don't have to say more, he doesn't need for you to say more. "oh, it's okay! we can just go to my place".

you remain still. "your parents won't mind?"

mark quickly shakes his head. "they never mind, honestly they keep complaining about how i don't bring people over".

for the first time since mark's met you, a small laugh leaves your lips. "okay.. that's fine".

fine. not good, just fine. maybe it takes a while for you to warm up, mark doesn't mind, he can wait.

you tug at a strand of your hair using your finger, licking your teeth. "is friday good for you?" mark inquires, watching as you again begin vigorously clicking your pen.

you again pause before answering, an indecipherable feeling entering you. mark tries to study you, but he gets nothing, he really is clueless to how you are. "friday is fine" you then say, much too rapidly for it to be authentic. you seem shaky, erratic, it all seems so scary.

mark nods, a final click to your pen. "okay.. after school maybe? we could walk together".

yet another flimsy suggestion, mark only utters such a thing because he doesn't exactly want to pick specific times. it's easier this way, directly after school, you have your last class together, just heading home after it all finished would be fine. it's simple.

you stare at him as if he just grew two heads, your eyes dilated in a freakish fashion. mark finds it staggering, you always stare at him as if he's said something absurd when he offers even the tiniest bit of kindness to you. your eyebrows furrow, simply a look of pure confusion painted on your face.

but even with the torture you seem to be facing in your own mind, you present a neutral smile. "yeah, that's okay".

okay. not good, just okay.

mark thinks he can deal with okay.

the coming friday enters like a freight train, it's a tumultuous crash that is so rapid the world shakes. mark scratches behind his ear, eyes droopy as he simply awaits for the ending of class.

he zones out on the sound of a pen dragging against a notebook page, he doesn't need to crane his head back to know that you're scribbling something into your notebook. he wonders if you're interested in drawing, maybe you enjoy the aspect of art, that seems interesting.

mark wants to ask, but there's always a voice in his head that chastises him for being so curious, the same way his mother used to when he'd ask outlandish questions as a child.

he has to use all of the fight in him to not look back at you, he'd probably get another weird utter from you if he decided to simply turn back and stare, mark isn't stupid, he knows how people are, he knows it's weird to just sit and stare at someone.

one click to your pen.

class dismisses as soon as it begins, and mark almost falls to the floor when he stands up, his exhaustion practically weighing him down. he acts in a strange manner, one that draws a small snicker from you as you observe his behavior.

"you alright there?" mark only sighs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"i'm fine just.. tired" mark explains, chuckling emptily. you simply stare again, tightening your hold against your backpack. you click your tongue, shoulders still tense as ever. "do you want to come over now or..?"

you nod. "now is fine".

mark makes sure to not show his elation too clearly, just presenting his regular smile as it is to you. he almost grabs your hand, he wants to feel the intertwining of your fingers, but again, you'd probably punch him in the face.

the walk isn't long, mark walks to school every single day, having not skipped a beat ever since freshman year began. you two stroll towards mark's place in silence, the air growing awkward as the autumn air breezes through your hair.

mark clears his throat, taking in a breath. "is your hand getting better?"

it's a trifling inquiry mark only makes out because of the need for conversation, it'd be so much worse if you two were just quiet. mark usually doesn't have a problem with talking to people, but with you, it's just the slightest bit difficult.

you again offer a curt shrug as a response. "it's okay".

okay. wow, you never really give a sure answer. mark wonders if you even know the answer yourself.

"okay isn't really a reassuring answer".

"doesn't matter".

it does to me.

the words hang heavy on mark's lips, but they then die down in his throat, would it be strange to say that to someone you barely even know? someone who probably doesn't consider you a friend in their own indecipherable mind? mark curses himself for harboring such strong feelings towards you, someone whose basically a stranger.

"again, nothing i haven't felt before" you mutter, words hushed in their usual manner. you leave no more room for explanations, going silent as you continue your walk beside him.

mark, though curious, also remains silent, slowly speeding up as he makes out the sight of his house.

you keep your head down when mark opens the door, peaking his head from behind it. "mom! i'm home!"

mark misses the small flicker of jealousy in your eyes, too busy getting attacked by his mother's frenzied affection. you could only stare at the spectacle, keeping your silence.

"oh, and whose this?"

mark blinks, his big eyes widening extraordinarily. "this is y/n, my classmate, were doing a project together".

you again keep silent for a while, clearing your throat as she offers you a smile. "it's nice to meet you mrs. lee".

"oh you're adorable, look at those cheeks!"

you had half a mind to lean back when she pinched your cheek, but you stayed still, even with the tense of your stance. mark snickers behind his hand, finding the sight amusing.

he lets a breath fall from his lips. "were gonna go study in my room, if that's okay.."

"that's fine! don't be afraid to tell me if you need anything!"

she claps her hands happily and ruffles mark's hair, yet you continue staring incredulously, as if the actions were alien. you only nodded, silence again overtaking you as you follow behind mark to his room, smiling at his mother as you walk your way there.

"your mom is nice" you whisper, mark only able to hear it because of the lack of space between you two. you still don't smile, a neutral expression remaining on your face.

mark again chuckles lightly, motioning his head forward as he holds his door open for you. "yeah, everyone says that, you okay though?"

you glance back at him, puzzled. "yeah.. i'm fine".

fine, that has to be a specific buzzword of sorts. mark again blinks, several emotions flaring in his irises. "well i noticed you kinda froze when my mom touched you".

you merely offer a shrug, settling onto the floor and pulling out the several books you'd been reading prior. "i'm just not used to that kind of affection".

mark raises an eyebrow, dropping his backpack onto the ground with a resounding thud, the many books practically shaking the floor. that was an answer didn't really expect. maybe he just doesn't get it, your mom can't be that bad, it's your mom! how could a mother not harbor affection towards her child.

you snap your head up, a look in your eye, as if you were daring him to make a brash comment about your family life. mark gulps in the quietest way possible, smile straining against his lips. "did you get any more notes on the steam engine's origins?"

you reply with a small smile, seemingly pleased he changed the topic.

hours go by with you two simply studying and talking about your topic, the familiar drag of your pen filling the air of mark's room. you didn't bring up anything off topic, it's honestly impressive how long you stayed without getting distracted, but mark assumes it's because you just don't enjoy talking.

you've pretty much given up on the subject at hand, resorting to drawing whatever in your notebook. dark circles begin visibly appearing under your eyes, but you still don't make a comment, simply preoccupying yourself with your mini art pieces.

mark stares, eyes drifting off to his open window, the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. he admires the reddish-orange hue of the sky, his lips turning up at the picture.

"what time is it?"

mark's eyes flicker in a sudden shift, and he again glances at you, then at the clock against the wall. "it's almost eight pm".

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, gathering the books you rested on the floor to again put back into your backpack. one click to your pen, you also let it fall into your pencil case. "i should probably get going now.. thank you for letting me come over".

mark shakes his hand, offering a dismissive wave. "it's nothing, if you want to start doing this more often.. you know my parent's won't mind".

you pause, letting your silence fester as you put on your backpack. you bite your inner cheek, mark can practically hear you thinking. "..maybe" you mutter, staring down at the floor as you begin making your way down the hall, towards the front door.

mark pretty much springs to his feet, he doesn't want to be an impolite guest, his mom always told him that it's nice to walk people out. "or we could just go back to studying in the library".

he really just wants you to be comfortable.

you pause, steps slowing down as you make it to the middle of the living room. your fingers tap against the straps of your backpack, licking your teeth. "i'll think about it, then when i decide i'll tell you".

mark finds himself smiling at that. it's again, a start. "okay, i can wait".

you share yet another neutral smile, but it seems your lips itch to turn up even more, you seem to want to share a genuine smile with mark, but you stop yourself for some reason. "you're so patient".

"i learned from the best".

you again bite your inner cheek, and mark's eyebrow raises, those words appear to displease you.

"oh are you leaving already y/n?"

your displeasure transforms into immediate bliss when mark's mother again enters, blinking. "yeah, it's getting late now".

"do you not want to stay for dinner?"

you again stop in your place, seemingly freezing. mark does the same, parroting your expression with his shoulders tensing. he glances over at you, watching as the inner battle your having in your head plays on your forehead in big bold letters. "um.. i—"

"mark!" his mother chastises, smacking his arm in a manner that draws a small wince. "what are you standing there for? invite your friend over for dinner!"

mark almost wants to utter he's not my friend, but that's just so mean to say out loud. he isn't exactly sure if that's what you would want or not, so his mouth again hangs open like he's some sort of idiot who doesn't know how to speak.

but you break the silence by chuckling silently. "it's okay mrs. lee i wouldn't want to overstay my welcome".

she sucks her teeth, waving a dismissive hand in the same manner mark does. "don't say that! you're welcome here now! have you eaten yet?"

you can only stare incredulously, biting the skin off your lips. "no not really.."

she gasps in horror, her big brown eyes holding a familiar look of worry. "you must be starving then! just stay for a few minutes, yeah?"

you so badly want to decline, mark sees it in the shift you perform, but it's also impossible to decline, you share one glance with mark, then you sigh. "okay.. thank you ma'am".

"don't thank me, i'm simply doing the bare minimum".

you wonder where you've heard that one before.

mark finally snaps out of his daze, a warm smile spreading across his features. "are you really staying?" he inquires when his mom walks back to the kitchen, the volume of his voice merely a small whisper.

"just for a few minutes" you whisper in reply, the straps of your backpack burning into your palm with how hard you're pressing onto it.

mark can barely even hide the bigger smile that threatens to paint his face. that's nice, it's not along the lines of a sure or an okay, it's something more.

maybe it's a step in the right direction.

WHEN MONDAY AGAIN ROLLS AROUND, MARK has way too much on his mind. the crisp october air has just gotten cooler, his heavier sweaters now in need. a few days from now it might begin smelling much more brisk, trees will wither at an even quicker rate, the leaves crunching under his shoes will fly away in the breeze without bidding so much as a goodbye. by the time november comes to a close, mark will have worn out this red sweater he's so attached to. for now though, he's going to wear it every single day, it matches the appearance of the autumn season, he wants to stay on theme (and he also just has a super huge attachment to the sweater).

even after you stayed over for a few extra minutes to have dinner at his house, courtesy of his mother's own magnanimity, you two still don't establish any kind of friendship. he heard you utter a few words about how he clearly inherited that from her, but he feigned ignorance as he focused on eating dinner.

your presentation is next week, the last week was simply full of research questions and many pieces of cardboard scattered across the floor. the librarian finds the sight of you two so mundane that she greets you with a small nod each time you enter.

there's much more studying than there actually is talking about anything else, an unseen work ethic mark usually wouldn't find weird if it wasn't for the morbid curiosity he has for everything.. well— you.

mark stares as you continue jotting, tape on your right hand side you stare at the cardboard folder you two decided to use for your presentation. he's been distracted for a while now, but you're still as focused as ever, it's pretty admirable how dedicated you are to this project.

"do you maybe wanna be friends?"

the tiniest sound of ink dropping onto a paper stops, one click to your pen. you always seem to do that, pause midway through your actions before fully taking his words into account. you always stare at him as if he says something absurd, like he's a crazy person. mark finds each of your actions pretty strange.

"what?"

he claps his hands, nails scratching the back of his own palms. "i don't know.. you've had dinner with my parents already, isn't it weird that we aren't friends?"

you itch to say something, and mark wishes superpowers would be granted to him in this very moment. he can't tell what you're thinking and the irritation begins to seep in as quick as he craves for it to disappear. "unless you don't want to be friends.. i don't mind".

what a terrible liar. he does mind. he fucking minds so much it's going to begin physically paining him soon enough.

you let go of the tense you seem to hold onto, shoulders relaxing as you sink into your chair. "fine, let's be friends then".

you say the words in a manner that indicates you're just the slightest bit weirded out, almost everything about mark seems to weird you out, and maybe it makes mark feel a little insecure.

"what's your favorite season?"

"excuse me?" you narrow your eyes, and mark thinks any courage he could've held in that moment dies down in his throat.

mark blinks, you have no reason to be so terrifying. it must be some skill of yours. "well usually when you make friends with people you get to know them.. i don't really know much about you, it's a start".

a start, there it is again, a start. your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, you pull your sleeves over your arms. "what? like twenty questions?"

mark's slow nod is almost barely recognizable. "yeah basically".

you stare for a moment, your silence overtaking you once again. maybe you're just thinking of an answer, maybe you don't think of these things in the way mark does, cogs turn in his brain, and he begins;

"i like summer.. mostly because my birthday is in summer but i've never really been a fan of the cold, it's excruciating to sleep in the summer but i greatly prefer it anyway, it's easier to sleep in heat than trudge to school in thick snow".

when mark releases a final breath, he again glances at you. oh! he just rambled, he just rambled through a response that he basically programmed into his head in preparation for this kind of question.

you again, look at him like he's crazy, but there's a hint of amusement in your expression, your lips threatening to turn up into a grin. "i don't really have a favorite".

mark's face scrunches, that's a boring answer. "okay but if you had to choose, which one would you pick?"

your shoulders again drop, rising into a shrug that isn't exactly of confusion, but something much more complicated. "autumn, it's like the in between season, summer makes my skin feel too clammy and winter is just.. painful".

"painful?"

"i don't really enjoy snow" you begin clicking your pen consistently once more. mark wonders if that's one of your anxious habits, he has some of those as well, he wonders a lot about you. "i guess it can be pretty but it's so cold i just can't help but dislike it".

"valid point".

you hum in response, and mark again smiles. it's pretty nice talking to you about just stupid things like this, hopefully you can share more moments in such a fashion. "do you like history?"

you snort. "not as much as you clearly do".

mark shakes his head for some reason. "i don't really enjoy history i just put a crazy amount of effort into it like i do my other subject.."

"well you have to stay on the principal's honor roll".

mark clears his throat, if he couldn't pinpoint your tone of voice, he would've thought you were insulting him with a show of sarcasm, but it's quite the opposite, there's a show of admiration in that tone of yours, respect. it's flattering, and if mark wasn't still afraid of you punching him in the face, he would've allowed for tease to slip from his lips.

"you're very smart too, just in your own way".

"well i'm much more of a science person" you respond, and mark's eyes widen in a form of daze. he had no idea what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that.

"science?"

"you seem surprised" you utter, just the faintest hint of surprise on your features as you mirror the look mark gave you seconds prior (save for your eyes widening).

"i don't know, i would've never guessed science".

"i've long finished that class i just.. i find the aspect of science interesting" you pause your consistent clicking of your pen, again beginning to draw out something in your notebook.

mark almost wants to inquire about what you draw on the pages, but he keeps that in the recesses of his mind. "like biology and stuff?"

"physics, chemistry, astronomy, all the bullshit you hate learning about in school" though you focus on the drawing you seem pretty into, you also remember to give as much attention to mark. "it's interesting to research about when there isn't an uptight guy up your ass".

mark snickers at the reply, completely knowing of the teacher you're referring to with that sentence. "mr. cho isn't that bad".

"oh trust me, he is".

you giggle at your own response, the first show of a genuine smile mark sees on your face ever since the first time he met you. "sorry for calling you weird the last time".

shock flickers in mark's galaxy like irises. he wasn't exactly expecting an apology from you, he already got over it (as much as he could with how terrified of you he was). "it's okay, i guess i was being kinda pushy".

"no i was just being difficult, don't blame yourself".

mark wants to but in, yet his mouth clamps shut. he itches to tell you no, to tell you that he just doesn't get you yet, but it's not your fault.

"well were friends now, so it doesn't matter".

when your eyes cast towards him, an unusual shiver runs down his spine, but a smile stays stuck to his face.

after legions of fear, friendship is finally established.

but it's still a little strange. though mark finally knows a few new interesting factoids concerning you (your favorite season is autumn, you have an interest in science, and you aren't as scary as you may seem), you're still a pretty clear mystery.

the rest of the week is spent finalizing your project, there's again less off topic talking again, and mark holds on to that small conversation you originally had in the library for the next few days, looking forward to the next time he can have such a talk with you.

you seem to thrive in silence, so mark doesn't try to force more conversation between you two, when you want to talk to him, you'll talk to him.

but mark still has that itching curiosity which won't go away.

"do you ever worry about someone for no reason?"

mark inquires it to donghyuck on the following friday, the barely warm breeze rushing past them, slightly lifting hairs from their heads. donghyuck blinks, stretching his legs forward onto the rest of the aluminum bleachers. "what do you mean by that?"

mark pauses, he should've expected donghyuck to answer his question with a question. it was all abrupt, flimsy, it wasn't all thought out like most of his inquiries. "i don't know.. sometimes i don't talk much to someone and i still feel like something is going on".

donghyuck raises an eyebrow. "ohh, you're talking about y/n".

mark doesn't even know why he's shocked, out of words, he nods at his response.

donghyuck lets out a breath. "y/n's a pretty stalling guy, he usually doesn't get to the point quickly, you might just be worried because he won't confide in you".

"i mean.. it still feels like there's more there, i can understand if he doesn't want to talk to me but i'm also afraid something more might be going on, you know?"

donghyuck sucks his teeth, offering mark an elbow nudge that seems along the lines of an affectionate gesture. "that might just be because of your naturally aiding impulses, i'm sure if something is going on, y/n just isn't telling you because he doesn't want you to freak".

mark's face scrunches. "i'm not going to freak".

"well then you clearly don't know yourself" donghyuck pats mark on his shoulder, grabbing his backpack and shrugging it over his shoulder. just as mark is about to give yet another brash response, donghyuck quips; "wanna race back to my place?"

before mark can respond, donghyuck leaps off the bleachers and begins sprinting, much to his own dismay. "hey! that's cheating!" he shouts, but donghyuck makes no move of slowing down.

mark curses at his own best friend, trying his best to keep up the pace. "donghyuck!"

all he receives in return is a gleeful giggle.

MARK FIRST MEETS YOUR PARENTS THE FOLLOWING WEEK, an event that was entirely accidental. you guys ace the project, the resounding look of pride from your teacher alerts you of that. the a+ was guaranteed you say, from the moment mrs. lim decided to place you two in a project together she knew it was. still, even with the usually high expectations, mark can barely contain himself, almost hugging you in the aftermath of the whole thing. he isn't sure how he managed to keep it all to himself, but he did, and it's good that he did, he was afraid of making it all more awkward. he was pleased to see a smile blossom on your face, your smile is pretty, it's fitting.

the moment class ends, he makes his way over to you. "we did a good job" he whispers, the volume of his voice barely able to be considered a whisper. he held his hand up, wincing in his own mind as he watches you stare.

but, fortunately for mark, you give him a high five, your hands meeting in a silent slap. for the sheer moment your palms meet, he basks in the feeling of your rough callouses against his soft ones. "you did a good job".

"we did a good job" mark specifies, and you stand up from your place, simply responding with a small nod.

you decide to not argue with him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. there's a small silence that settles into the air, but then mark again perks up. "do you want to walk home together?"

shock colors your features, an instant look of fear flickering in your eyes. "i— i mean.."

you lick your lips, thousands of thoughts running rampant through your mind. "sure" you reply, feeling mark's heavy gaze directed towards you.

again, it's just a sure, nothing exactly reassuring.

mark tightens his hold on his backpack, a small look in his eye that you actively avoid. he decides to not comment on it, instead letting the silence fester as you two bid farewell to your fellow classmates and begin walking home.

it seems you walk home to school as well, you haven't muttered anything about a bus, or about your parents taking you to and from school. he usually sees you walk in the opposite direction of the bus stop, so he simply assumes you walk home like he does.

he hears you mumble something under your breath, and he narrows his eyes, curiosity peaked by the unintelligible words. he glances at you, eyes full of anxiety. "is everything okay?"

your head snaps up so quickly mark almost squeaks at the sharp movement. your eyes are widened comically, but mark can't even find an awkward chuckle ready to leave his lips, you look terrified, you look.. scared.

"m' fine".

"you sure?"

you don't have to lie to me.

mark decides to keep that one to himself.

"yeah i'm fine" you say, avoiding eye contact and stomping your shoes.

you stop in front of an unfamiliar house, only half the walk towards mark's own place. oh, so you don't live that far away from school. you live closer than mark even does, he guesses he again learned something new about you.

"hey you don't even live that far away" mark says, hoping his smile will somehow brighten your mood. he watches a small flicker of bliss form on your face, and he manages to contain his own elation. "you didn't tell me you lived close by".

you again mutter something unintelligible under your breath, but your tone of voice indicates that you're just the slightest bit afraid once again.

mark is about to ask again when the door swings open, and an unfamiliar woman with a mean look in her eye. she squints at the sight of you, irritation crossing her expression. "i thought you were staying at school late".

the look of fear in your eyes becomes more of embarrassment, but the terror remains. "i um— i messed it up, my projects over".

mark studies her face for a moment, he assumes that's your mother, but he doesn't capture a single resemblance between you two. "crock of shit" she mumbles, her eyes shift erratically, and she clicks her tongue in a manner reminiscent of how you do it.

mark stops as he feels an awkwardness shift in the air, and she finally has half a mind to acknowledge his presence. "do i know you?"

her head tilts slightly, and mark almost jumps back in complete terror. "no i.. mark lee, i'm y/n's friend".

she raises an eyebrow, a chuckle of disbelief being her immediate response. "you have friends?"

you lick your teeth, the irritation in your expression betraying the words on your lips: "i didn't mean to lie" you continue to avoid her eyes, as if afraid she might turn you into stone if you even glance at her face. "i'm sorry".

she dismisses your apology rather quickly. "whatever i don't care.." she almost rolls her eyes, but she seems to stop it. "it's nice to meet you.." she snaps her fingers as her words trail off, and mark realizes she forgot his name already. "mark".

your cheeks tint pink with embarrassment, and you look down at the floor, holding in your breaths. "can i have a few minutes?" you mumble, tutting silently.

she shrugs. "be quick, we have to talk" irritation laces her tone, and she places a performative smile on her face as she glances at mark, the door closing behind her.

mark is almost completely overtaken by his silence, but then you sigh, shoulders relaxing. "was that your mom?"

you mimic her prior shrug, tongue prodding at your cheek. "more or less.." you don't exactly react to those words, simply have an indifferent expression on.

"you don't look like her at all".

the moment the words escape mark, he slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening. that has to be offensive in some way, that's absolutely ridiculous to say, if his mom were here she'd smack him on the back of the head for the way he just acted. instead, you reply with a silent chuckle, a small smile painting your face.

"foster parents".

mark blinks. "what?"

"they're my foster parents, not my actual ones" you explain, and mark's heart drops to his feet.

oh. that's the entire expanse of your situation. mark didn't exactly think that would be the case, he doesn't know what he expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

"oh" he voices out loud, gritting his own teeth. "i— i'm sorry i didn't know".

he almost feels guilty in a sense.

for what, though?

"it's alright" you shake your head, shrugging your backpack over your shoulder, your expression of indifference remains. "see you on monday".

mark has no idea how he collects his words. "yeah, see you.."

but mark can't walk home without the feeling of nausea bubbling up in his stomach.

CONTRARY TO YOUR VERY WORDS, YOU DO NOT show up on monday. mark immediately jumps to the worst possible outcome. he isn't exactly sure why he jumped to thinking the worst, he's simply afraid something happened. your.. mothers sharp glare remains permanently framed in his memory, she was absolutely terrifying. when monday flies by with no sight of you, mark almost wants to walk to your place himself, but he keeps himself settled in his own thoughts, he wouldn't want to freak you out. his worries extended towards the day after, the greeting november air only adding to his worries.

now the oncoming cooler air is completely welcomed on mark's part. he enjoys the cold weather more than he has the gall to admit, and his dark red sweater has already been worn out even after only a week of consistently wearing it.

mark entered class on tuesday with a whole wave of nausea overtaking anything else he could've been feeling. when he took his seat, he practically waited to be bestowed with bad news.

he licks his lips as the teacher begins taking attendance, the 'here' he mutters is full of distraught he couldn't tell he was holding.

mrs. lim narrowed her eyes at her clipboard, the click of her tongue bouncing off the walls. "has anyone seen y/n?"

the question is asked out of sheer curiosity, just the slightest hint of worry present in her tone. it's a thing to be absent once, but you're usually only absent once, you're a pretty consistent student in terms of attendance.

her eyes flicker up, and the rest of the class begin their resounding murmurs. mark merely glances around, licking his teeth, additionally sucking his teeth to sell his irritation.

she scrunches her nose, about to ask again when, as if on cue, you walk in through the door. the indifference painted on your face is similar to the one he memorized back on that friday. you blink, avoiding her eyes in the manner of an ashamed child. "sorry i'm late" you mutter, frantically extending your gaze around the whole room.

mrs. lim stares, attempting to read your inner most thoughts. "it's okay just.. you'll get a tardy pass later sit down".

you offer your best nod, lips remained pressed shut as you shuffle towards your seat, avoiding mark's eyes specifically. his gaze trails onto yours, but because he can't see your eyes, he can't read how you feel.

you hang your head low as you take your seat, the familiar dragging of your pen against your notebook page not filling the room. mark feels as if the room is suffocating him whole, your very presence itself strangely scaring him.

"why didn't you show up yesterday?" mark inquires, he really wants make it sound like it's all okay, but his words trail off into an accusing whine.

you pause, shrugging. there's so much exhaustion behind your eyes, as if you've missed out on weeks upon weeks of sleep. "something came up".

you attempt your best shot at walking away from mark, back faced towards him as you walk in the direction of the bathroom.

mark scrunches his face, speeding up his own pace and brushing his shoulder against yours. he can no longer contain his curiosity, you look absolutely terrified of.. something. "what came up?"

"nothing".

"don't lie to me".

mark's expression of worry is now at full affect, his big brown eyes holding anxiety. you manage your best scoff, the grasp on your backpack tightening. your face twitches, the flicker in your eyes betraying the disdain you attempt to face make with.

still, you try to brush him off, shaking your head. "i'm not lying, and besides, it's none of your business".

mark kisses his teeth, a loud sigh now leaving his lips. he clears his throat, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

you stare, crumbling under his undeniably soft gaze. "i'm sorry" you mumble, immediately looking away from him, eyes shifting uncontrollably. "i just don't want to talk about it" you poke the side of your cheek with your tongue, clasping your hands behind your back.

mark stares down at his feet, biting down into his bottom lip. he scratches at his own fingers, anxious impulses all high and mighty. "it's alright, i— um.. do you wanna go get ice cream?"

you blink, sucking your teeth. you scratch the back of your neck, and mark has no idea why he asks that question, he just knows ice cream usually makes him feel better, maybe it's the same for you.

"ice cream? in november?"

"ice cream always helps people feel better".

you offer a small chuckle at that, head turned down as you nod.

mark smiles, he can't believe that worked. your walk to the local ice cream parlor is silent, clear fatigue still present under your eyes. you lightly shiver at the cold breeze that rushes past you, a faint mutter from mark questioning if you two should even be going to get ice cream in the first place.

"you're the one who suggested we get ice cream" you breath out, making no indication that you were against the idea of getting ice cream after school in the beginnings of winter. "i don't mind".

"but i just want to make sure".

the words seemingly appall you, and mark realizes that most of his words seem to have that effect on you. you again fester in your silence, tongue licking at your lips as you catch sight of the nearby ice cream parlor. "it doesn't really matter.."

why doesn't it matter? why is it so strange that i care about you y/n?

the words don't escape mark, they simply fizzle out into the air as the screeching of the open door instead meets his ears. mark is quick to smile as you two walk into the ice cream parlor, his humming immediately filling the air.

"i kind of see ice cream as a comfort thing because it reminds me of summer.." mark mutters, licking his spoon stained with the cookie dough flavoring.

you don't eat right away, simply stab your spoon into your pile of vanilla. "how can something so cold be so comforting?"

just look at you.

you suck your teeth, as if sensing his thoughts, the ice cream brightens your mood in just the slightest, he can see it in the way your eyes flare up. at least he momentarily got it, at least there's at least a sliver of happiness there.

"everything cold is comforting in summer".

"it's going to begin snowing soon" you smack your lips at the taste of vanilla on your tongue, it's just.. vanilla. "might get a brain freeze".

"worth it for the sugar".

now that, that draws a small snicker from you, your lips finally turning up in a display of ecstasy. maybe it isn't you finding that funny, but it's you finding mark's delivery to be blissful. your head tips down as you attempt to stifle your laughter, but you can't exactly hold yourself together.

mark stares at the prospect, his lips turning up unconsciously as his gaze is stick onto you, and how you look.. pleased.

mark can't even contain it. he loves seeing you be happy.

which then results in his mind retracting, he thinks back to the sight of your mother's angry face, and his lips turn downward.

maybe you were gone because something happened at home, mark can really do nothing but assume.

"sacrificing your well being for sugar? that's so.. strange".

"sugar is a good coping tool" mark breaths, throwing out the ice cream that he finished rather quickly.

you simply hum in reply, clearly not believing those words, but letting mark have the win anyway.

"hey y/n?"

you blink, your gaze slow as you stare down mark. mark clears his throat, swallowing his own fear. "i want you to talk to me.. okay? i don't mean to come off as pushy or annoying or nosey i just want to make sure you're alright, i'm not going to bite or anything".

you opt to awkwardly chuckle at that last bit, again shrugging your backpack over your shoulder. "i know.."

mark's face scrunches, he still doesn't really have you, you're still pretty withdrawn. "you don't have to tell me about everything just.. you know i'm here, if you ever need someone to talk to—"

"you'll be my first choice, don't worry" you finish the next half of your sentence with your own words, words that can't be feigned honesty, as you avoid mark's eyes in the process.

the words strike something.. different in mark. is it maybe bliss? some undiscovered form of happiness? he doesn't exactly know the name, even if it feels as if it's on the tip of his tongue, but he's pleased for now. there's trust that's been established between you two, you trust mark.

"okay, okay" mark heaves a breath, his smile sticking to his face.

you seem to like his smile, because your pupils dilate at the sight of it.

maybe it isn't exactly the ice cream that helped you feel better, but mark can't figure out that it might be him that's your cure.

FRIENDSHIP ALSO MEANS HAVING TO SPEND time with each other, something that seems easy enough. "spending time" simply equates to mark talking and you listening. again, you don't exactly enjoy talking, so you leave all of it to him. mark talks to death about himself, his life, his dad, his mom, stuff you probably don't find interesting, but keep circulating through your mind. mark can hear the disdain you must be feeling, because all he does is talk about his stuff. he doesn't think he would enjoy that if it was someone else, but you really don't seem to mind, as long as you don't need to do the talking.

"do i talk about myself too much?" mark abruptly inquires, head whipping towards you in an instant. your gaze is fixed on the ground, and you opt to sucking your teeth as a silent response. "it's alright, you can be honest".

you snicker at that. "you're a very.. thoughtful person".

mark narrows his eyes. what is that supposed to mean?

"you think a lot, there's simply so much on your mind" you clarify, tongue dragging across your teeth. "i don't mind if you talk, it's how i learn".

"learn about..?"

"you, what you like, how you are, talk all you want it's okay".

mark straightens himself, hands dropping into his lap. "i want you to talk".

you raise an eyebrow. "what?"

"talk about yourself, i know enough about me, why don't you tell me about you?"

"i'm not that interesting" your quick to say, fingers beginning to pick at your own individual nails. when mark sends you a look, you follow up on your words; "really i'm not, don't look at me like that".

mark takes in a deep sigh, carting a hand through his light brown hair. "it doesn't matter".

you bite into your cheek. mark parroted your own words to signal at least.. something, reaching out to you might be a challenge, but mark isn't going to stop trying.

you contemplate, eyes heavy lidded. "i mean— why are you at the police station so much?"

the police station. that's where you two first met, you raise your shoulders into a performed shrug. your dark sweater paralleling the color of your eyes, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "my parents are assholes".

the words are said surely, there isn't indifference there, there is no dissatisfaction behind your eyes, you know what you're saying, you don't even mind what you're saying.

mark could never say such a thing, let alone say them about his parents.

"oh".

mark clears his throat. "you're a foster kid? how does that work?"

mark knows how it works, he just needs to see how the terms spill from your lips. "they just drop me into another home when my other foster parents get sick of me, adoption is useless so i just stay with strangers who get paid monthly that don't care".

mark isn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. his mouth remains dry, what is a regular response to exposition like that? he scratches at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, guilt again in the air.

"sorry, i really know how to ruin the mood".

"no no! it's okay, i'm the one who asked".

"still, didn't need to make it all.. depressing".

"i mean— it is pretty depressing" mark scratches at his own knees, smile awkward. "but sometimes that's just how life decides to treat us".

us is a bit of a shallow way to put it, mark doesn't understand your circumstances, he's never faced any of what you face. "i'm sorry, i wish i could do something".

"you need to stop apologizing".

"but—"

"stop" you suck a breath between your teeth, hands placed symmetrically at your sides.

"alright, sorr.." he pauses when you raise an eyebrow, the beginning of his second apology forcing itself back down his throat. "okay".

you just barely hold back your shiver, the fall air rushing past you in a speed reminiscent of the ocean. "shit like that isn't your fault, i get you're.. you care, i know, but you don't have to apologize".

mark opts to awkwardly chuckle. "i don't really know what else to say.."

"you're a nice person to be around".

the words are enough to get a pause, but you don't exactly mind it, you said those words with conviction, as if you had previously thought them out and were completely sure of what they entailed.

or maybe you can secretly sense the effect they have, because mark isn't exactly the best at hiding the formations of his newest expressions. his eyes light up, the shine of the sun peeking behind the clouds amplifying the pleasure he recedes from the compliment.

your lips turn up by in the slightest, and you suck a breath between your teeth as you patiently await his response.

"oh" mark breaths, clearing his throat as he lets the strange feeling in his stomach settle away. "thank you.."

you don't reply, your smile simply mundane. you again kiss your teeth, mark's fingers fiddling at his necklace. "i.. uh— another thing i'm pretty interested in astronomy".

the mutter is half said, the rest of your words trailing off into something barely intelligible. mark's eyes dazzle in intrigue, astronomy is pretty interesting. "you like space?"

"i love space" you shake your head in disbelief at your own words. "it's pretty, the stars, the planets, just.. all of it is beautiful".

"and deadly".

now that one is a surprise, because you aren't able to stifle your laughter, your head shaking as a display of your amusement. "well yeah but that can be said for many things".

mark's eyes again dazzle, his own intrigue building up at the reply. "that's what makes a lot of the world interesting".

your eyebrow raise in a parroting of mark's own intrigue. "more like it's what makes it terrifying".

"terrifying can be interesting".

"i never said it couldn't".

your knees knock together, an indecisive look in your eye. you pull your sleeves over your arms when you begin noticing the goosebumps, a sigh leaving your lips immediately. "it's fine if you talk, i don't mind".

mark has no idea why, but he feels that those words are a lie. "it doesn't get repetitive?"

your expression falters for a simple moment, but instead of speaking, you keep your words to yourself. you shake your head silently, hands placed into your lap.

there's a moment of silence again, mark carefully crafts his next words, straightening his posture as he keeps his gaze trained straight ahead. "do you like drawing?"

seamless segway.

it would be seamless if mark wasn't shaking so much, maybe it was dumb of him to forget his sweater, but in his defense, it was warm in the morning! he would've been sweating on the way to school.

mark thinks if he focuses enough, he'll be able to hear the familiar continuous clicking of your pen in the background.

he again shudders, a small breath leaving his lips.

when you glances back at you, you smoothly slip your sweater from your arms and hand it over, slightly startling mark back. your face remains still, your gaze averting in an instant. "take it".

mark blinks dumbly.

you suck your teeth. "your cold, take it, you can give it back to me tomorrow".

"y/n—"

"you're not walking home cold.." you mutter, simply placing the sweater in mark's lap as you watch him again involuntarily shudder. "i'll be okay, don't worry about me".

mark wants to argue, but you leave no room for that, stubbornly crossing your arms. he takes the sweater and mutters a silent "thank you" 

a somewhat ggressive act of kindness, mark guesses that's pretty fitting for the kind of person you are.

he still tries to get you to open up, and slowly, it seems to be working.

"i know you hate snow" he comments whilst you two walk down the hallway that friday. he tightens the grip he has on his bag, a small smile on his face as he pictures the upcoming winter. your hum is a usual response, a simple sound mark has to focus to even catch. "how do you plan to survive winter?"

you snicker silently, again humming. "can't do anything but walk".

"you better have good boots".

"i have good boots, maybe not a good jacket, though".

he's about to ask for clarification when the spawn of satan decides it's his time to shine; "markie!"

mark flinches when donghyuck comes around the corner, bouncing on his heels as he makes his way over to mark. mark's loud sigh ricochets off the walls of the hallway. "that's the bane of my existence.." he mutters towards you, and you chuckle lightly.

"you're so sweet to me" donghyuck's smile is strained, but he doesn't focus all his attention on mark that often. his eyes flit over towards you, and there's immediate intrigue there. "and you must be the famous y/n!"

the volume of his voice causes for your face to strain, but you keep it all together as to not offend him. you glance everywhere before again focusing on his face, a small smile showing up on your lips. "famous is.. probably pretty dramatic".

donghyuck exchanges a knowing look with mark, who blushes and clears his throat whilst feigning ignorance at that glance. he extends his hand towards you, whistling. "well with how mark is, it seems you are".

he snickers, and mark just barely keeps himself from punching the younger. you shake your head as you too shake his hand, avoiding mark's eyes. "okay then, it's nice to meet you.."

"donghyuck".

"donghyuck, nice to meet you".

mark watches the interaction with wide eyes, his mind rushing with a flurry of thoughts. "i can't believe this is our first time meeting! it's been a while since you two became friends huh?"

friends is a weird word, but you don't exactly comment on it. "yeah, mark has mentioned you before he just never said your name".

mark blows a breath between his lips, unaware of why his anxieties are suddenly rising. you glance at him, practically sensing the presence of his anxiety. mark almost jumps, but he manages to keep himself together. "i have to get home early, i'll see you monday".

you don't exactly seem sure of those words, but your smile makes it all look fine. "it was nice meeting you donghyuck".

the other only hums, you two exchanging smiles as you begin your way down the hallway, smile dropping once you get a wise distance away from them.

mark keeps the silence before donghyuck pipes up; "isn't he cute?"

mark chokes on his own spit, his face noticeably scrunching up as he glances in his childhood friends direction. "what?"

"don't tell me you've never thought it before" donghyuck snickers, affectionately nudging mark as an uncertain smile tugs at his lips.

"i haven't! you're so.. strange".

donghyuck narrows his eyes, clearly he doesn't believe such words. "okay mark, i'll believe that for your own sake".

and mark can't register why he assumes he's lying, donghyuck is just crazy.

donghyuck is just crazy.

OKAY, NOW THAT IT'S BEEN MENTIONED, MARK can't exactly stop thinking about it. donghyuck can be so stupid sometimes, but maybe it's somewhat justified. he never really took the time to focus on your facial features in specific, and he guesses that laying awake at three in the morning is the perfect time to focus on them. mark noticed everything, nose freckles, moles, the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lips, your dark brown irises, he usually picks off the physical traits of those he's meeting for the first time with stark detail in his own mind. he really never did think about it, but now he has all the time too.

are you cute? mark's eyes stick to the photos decorating his walls, the figures shrouded in darkness without the light of the sun permeating through the window aiding in producing the shin they so clearly require.

yeah, you are. mark isn't over admitting when he finds a guy cute, you can easily be described as such. there's something about the flicker of your eyes that entices him, but that's just.. strange.

he opts to rolling over, staring at his alarm clock nestled onto the bedside table. being kept up because you're stuck pondering about whether you're friend not friend is cute is absolutely idiotic. since when has this happened before?

that question is also idiotic, it hasn't.

he pulls the covers over him and nuzzles against his pillow, feigning ignorance to his flurry of thoughts with a sigh as he keeps the pattern of your moles pictured in his head.

thanksgiving breezes past just as it always does every year, donghyuck's family again comes over for the festivities ('festivities' equaling the sharing of meals while the two scarf down pretty much everything in the kitchen), but mark stays unfocused even with a bunch of people other than you around him.

then the end of november speed runs until mark's face scrunches at the upcoming first day of december.

december is too cold, there's no foresight of ice on the ground, no snow ready to sneak up on everybody just yet, but he doesn't care, he can already feel the grimace ready to be painted over his features.

and as the cold breeze balls up it's fist into an open punch, mark takes a small breath;

you said you hate winter.

mark gets it, but it's less of you hating winter and more of mark constantly thinking of.. well— you.

again, he doesn't exactly need to take history, the class is as useless to his academic record as it is interesting, but mark won't continue complaining, he's terrified mrs. lim can secretly read his mind.

"what class are you taking next semester?" mark whispers, leaning back in his seat as the widening of his eyes is in tune with his complete interest.

your shoulders rise in a puzzled shrug, the familiar drag of your pen now right in mark's ear. you don't make an effort to glance upward, but mark is aware you're paying adequate attention anyway. "not sure, they always tell me after, what are you taking?"

mark decides to completely scoot backward, the crack of knuckles causing for your face to scrunch. "computer programming".

there's a beam in your eyes. "as a senior?"

mark's snicker is a result of your tone. "it's for last minute credits, just like this class.."

"ah".

you again engross yourself in whatever it is you're doing in your notebook, mark attempts to sneak a glance, but you seem to sense his eyes, as you flip the page upward where his eyes can't meet it.

well shit, you caught him.

yet you don't mutter a single word about the event which just transpired, you simply continue with the similar drag of your pen.

at this point, the sound is a puzzling solacing noise for mark. he'll never utter such words loudly though, it's strange to admit that the sound of someone drawing in their notebook has become a sense of comfort for you.

mark sometimes wonders how deep the corners of his mind expand. "finals week is coming up".

you hum in reply, nodding your head, pen seemingly having a mind of it's own. mark glances over, unable to decipher the gleam of your eyes. it could be irritation, or maybe it's satisfaction, you're confident in the strength of your brain, it doesn't seem like you would struggle.

your eyes flit up for a moment, and then you snicker for a reason completely unknown to mark. "you nervous?" he decides to quip.

another hum. "always, but i trust most of my intellect".

"you should, you're very smart".

the compliment is spontaneous, an abrupt uttering that you clearly weren't expecting, as heat coils against your skin, the reddish tint clashing with your once vain cheeks. your lips part, the dragging of your pen subsides. you then glance away as you clear your throat, blowing smoke through your lips.

"i'm sure you'll be fine" mark finally finishes, big eyes bugging out as he decides to avert his gaze. "don't give me that look, i've observed, you have one of the highest grades in the class".

"it's all just.. nothing".

mark decides to snicker. "not nothing, you have the ability".

"i guess i'll take your word for it" tease lingers on your tongue. "smartest kid in class after all".

there, now you two are even. you just complimented mark with words that he hears from people everywhere, but hearing them from you is what gets a stupid smile out of him. "oh.. well i don't know about that one".

mark tucks a strand behind his ear, the slightest bit of meekness displayed by his eyes. your eyes flitter upward, and the curve of your lips is satisfying. "yeah you do, you're smart, honor roll smart".

"i would say you're the same".

you long to take those words as a challenge, mark notices a certain burning in your eyes, but you opt to a small smile instead. "not enough for honors".

"well i think so".

and maybe, that's the only thing that matters. your face appears to light up, but you decide it's best to not comment on such a thing.

as the colder days approach, mark learns even more about you he doesn't exactly expect.

and it all comes through smoking.

"what?"

you seem amused by the inquiry asked of you, and mark's eyes widen in their usual jolted fashion, his hands clutching at his sides. you seem to look through him, humor still present in your tone as you reply; "did you just.. you smoke?"

mark clears his throat, eyes immediately averting, his gaze zeroing in on the visible air he can see being blown through his lips. "it's like a— um, anxiety tick thing, sometimes when i get overwhelmed it helps".

you bite into your cheek, shoving a hand into your pocket as you rummage for a while, pulling out a lighter which you shake in air, listening to the clinking of the metal. mark's eyes again bug out, a usual reaction for him, his expression reminiscent of a child hearing someone swear for the first time. "oh.. so you smoke?"

you pass the lighter, whistling in the air as you nod. "yeah, same thing really, it's not regular or anything i just sometimes need to let go".

mark longs to ask why, and you practically read his mind with the words displayed all over his face. "my parents are such amazing stressors, it'd be a shock if i didn't smoke at this point".

he can only stare, blowing smoke out from his lips as he watches it form in front of him. "it gets bad for me during exam season, finals get to my head and i can't resist".

"your parents don't know?"

mark shakes his head rapidly back and forth, a snicker falling from his lips. "nope, i think they would kill me if they found out.. can't let them know".

you opt to once again humming, shoving the lighter back in your pocket as your nose scrunches. you scratch behind your ear, howling winds earning the slightest shiver from you. "ah, i see".

mark keeps himself silent, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he stares forward, his eyes then falling to the ground. it's bare, empty, the sight of snow may meet his eyes in the coming days, maybe tomorrow even, the weather has always been know as unpredictable, a snowstorm could happen tonight, mark is afraid of that one.

"please don't tell anyone" mark whispers, eyes still cast downward. it's embarrassing, not even donghyuck knows that he does, and he's sure donghyuck is a smoker himself. he isn't exactly sure why.. he just knows what the reaction would be. "it's.. um, i don't know actually, feels like everyone thinks of me as a certain person so if they were to find out—"

"i won't tell" you state immediately, raising your pinky. "you have my word" is your next collection of words, mark blinks at you with shining eyes.

a pinky promise? he isn't sure what he expected, but he guesses they are the closest thing to a legally binding agreement.

mark intertwines his pinky with yours, the clash of your fingers together something of a prospect. your finger is rough, his are soft, he can't help but keep that fact tucked away in his mind. "pinky swear?"

"pinky swear".

mark decides he will take your word for it.

he supposes pinky swears do a lot for people, as long as the promise isn't broken, he won't have a reason as to not trust you.

IT'S A WEEK BEFORE FINALS WHEN MARK REALIZES yet another thing he doesn't exactly mean to discover. your simply.. esteemed love for thai food is a prospect he didn't exactly expect, but with a week until finals and the end of the year breathing down your neck, he guesses learning more about you is the right way to go. he wonders if there'll be many more turns to take in the future, he wonders how much truly runs through your heads. through picking your nails and raising eyebrows, he's already been able to decipher a lot, maybe he could just learn more if..

"do you know any good thai restaurants nearby?" he inquires, arms placed idly as he again admires your side profile. you hum, scratching at the sleeves of your sweater. it's a pretty one, the hue is a dark red, mark is curious on if the shades of red are your favorite, he forgets to ask.

your snort is short. "not in this town, it's a distance away from here, used to go regularly as a kid, it'll never get old.."

"so it's like.. a place of comfort?"

"basically" you reply, getting comfortable in your chair. it's the midway point of the period, the class is doing nothing but studying for finals next week, it leaves room for flurries of conversations mark otherwise wouldn't have been able to have with you.

it's nice, discussions flow a little easier between you two now that you've gotten slightly closer. though skepticism remains at an all time high (mark picks up on the mutters you occasionally let slip about your parents, something along the lines of fighting, loose funds, substances, his eyebrows keep furrowed), mark finds the now regular talks a fond juncture.

he rests his head onto his fist, scratching at his jaw with mid length nails. "when was your last visit?"

you shrug despite clearly knowing your response, arms coming to fold over your chest. "i haven't gone since high school began, makes sense because that's when i got put with.. them".

'them' equating to your current foster parents, mark unconsciously slides downward in his seat, anxiety rising. he observes the twitching of your left eye, a sight almost frightening.

"do you— um.. can you go again?"

your right eye closes, a sign of your contemplation. "they're.. my parents, they're crazy".

"have you never attempted to sneak?"

you chuckle, seemingly amused. "really? sneaking? i would've never thought that from you".

"i took part a few times, you could thank donghyuck for that one" mark keeps his head leaned sideways, it's easy to admire your features in this manner. you have a nice side profile, the left of your jaw perfectly highlighted in the lighting of the room. your lips curve upward at the reply, enjoyment behind your eyes.

"oh, i see, you're that kind of pair".

mark longs to figure out the meaning of those words, but you once again begin whistling, arms folding over your chest.

a specific question keeps echoing in mark's mind.

"you could.. uh— why don't we go together?"

you blink, dumbfounded. you study mark for a moment, and he suddenly feels unconscious under your gaze. you then silently snicker, just the slightest bit amused. "what?"

his hands find purchase on the desk before him, eyes avoiding yours, throat clearing. "um.. i just— i don't know, you seem to be fond of the place, wouldn't visiting be nice?"

your eyes narrow. "you're so.. wow, okay".

you chuckle, hiding your oncoming expression behind the cover of your own hands. mark remains anxious at the lack of a reply, nails coming to scratch at his hands. "is that a no?"

"no, no! you're just.. too sweet" you opt to reply, laughter carrying you through. mark feels heat coil over his cheeks, he's sure that it may manifest in color which permeates his skin, but he can't exactly think about that.

"oh, um— i.."

"while i would love to go" you begin, smoothing your hands over your jeans. "that's implying i have to sneak out".

oh, mark can't believe how dangerously impulsive he is.

but instead of a snark, you smile, it's small, yet it results in genuine ease sinking into mark's anxiety ridden heart, his hands coming to clasp together. "that was a dumb thing to say right? i'm sorry, forget i even said anything".

you contemplate for a moment, mark's anxiety again rising as your silence merely continues. "that's a good idea, it'd be nice to go before it starts snowing".

mark almost dies, was that just a yes?

you seemingly read his mind, because your lips do a swift upturn. "i guess i wouldn't mind sneaking out".

mark blinks, attempting to properly register the words without looking like a crazy person. "i didn't— i mean.. you don't have to, i don't want to get you in trouble, if it does—"

"doesn't matter" you cross your arms, leaning back in your seat. "at this point, getting grounded is a blessing for me, it's not that far a walk".

"are you sure?"

you lick your teeth. "i've been conditioned to hide my money better, they barely pay any attention to me".

mark digests the depression littering those words, but you keep up appearances, preventing the dejection from blossoming up in your features. there's shy disappointment behind your eyes, yet you don't comment. "i'm sorry.."

your head snaps in his direction rather quickly. "for what?"

mark shakes his head in reply. "i.. um—"

"don't apologize for something that isn't your fault".

mark bites his tongue before he allows for another apology to slip, your eyebrow raise simply enough to shut him up. you remain the slightest bit terrifying, even after established friendship. "can't help it.."

he picks at his nails, feeling the burning sensation of your eyes on the spot. he guesses his anxiety is really that permeable, and he longs to change the topic. "let's just hope the grades are good, yeah?"

"are you saying you wanna be study buddies?"

"i mean.. that's sort of how our relationship began" one click to your pen, mark tilts his head at the sight of your notebook. it's a simple hardcover, no label, a blank dark shade, yet it seems to carry a large entailing of significance, just like the pen, it has to contain something of an emotional connection to you, maybe, similarly to mark, you form attachments to even the smallest of things.

the use of the word 'relationship' earns a puzzling manner of expression, as if you have to rethink how you two interacted before the establishment of.. your now larger bond.

"that's cute".

you again open your notebook, yet another click to your pen as you begin.. something. mark has never been courageous enough to inquire about it to you, but he assumes there's some length of artistic expression in your personality, or maybe you just really enjoy writing, or you just scribble back and forth. really, mark can't assume what he doesn't know, and maybe you just don't want to divulge such a thing, he doesn't mind.

he simply observes, staring for long enough that you catch sight of it through your peripheral vision. "you'll do well, alright?"

you glance over at him, as if puzzled by the sudden reassurance. mark almost worries that you'll punch him in the face, his mind really needs to stop going down that route. "alright, let's hope you give me your luck".

MARK IS SURE HE COULD PERFECTLY RECITE EVERY SINGLE printed word in the several textbooks he's been staring at with nothing but pure disgruntlement for these past few days. there's a flurry of muddled information swirling around in his brain, he's afraid he might be taking a history quiz and begin scribbling down the formula of quotient entities. the many trigonometry equations have begun rotting him from the inside out, you've practically been an angel of a study buddy for these past few days, even despite the many whispers you let slip about you sleeping through pretty much all of trigonometry. you have strikingly straight notations, not even a letter out of place, penned compositions littering each page.

he can barely help the upturn of his lips.

"didn't you take trig last year? you're supposed to remember these things".

mark keeps his forehead pressed to the desk, the cool air just barely disturbing him. "trig is pretty much useless, math isn't my strong suit".

your eyebrows furrow. "you still got an a".

mark scoffs. "wow, thanks for supporting me with my endless struggle".

your chuckles now appear much more vibrant, some timidity remains, but it's better than how it all was in september, the change jumps out to mark, you're just so—

"you sound defeated, don't worry mark, you're still honor roll smart".

his heart constricts for a moment, and while he would usually be worried he was experiencing some length of a health risk, he knows it isn't that (but he guesses you could result in a heart attack, you're simply very..), but he can never be too sure.

your handwriting is irritatingly neat, nothing of an observable mistake despite pen clearly being used. is it the same pen? do you keep pens? do you like pens? his intrigue towards you could extend for miles, but he lets it stay inward no matter what.

your eyes gleam with the light of an indescribable entity. "do you.. would you still want to go out to eat on friday?"

mark blinks, contemplating despite the very much known answer. "yeah, i brought it up, if it makes you happy.."

"well you should also think about yourself, if you don't want to go—"

"no, no! i do" mark unfortunately can't arise much excuses for his sudden enthusiasm. he notices the amusement on your own features, but he doesn't make a comment. "besides, we won't see much of each other next week, and then the break will come right after".

winter break is usually its own blessing in mark's eyes, but there's this strange installment of fear this year. he isn't sure the extent your parents go, no signs of anything physical that he can see, yet he worries about you just having to be there for a length of almost two weeks. from what he's observed, school seems to be your only source of escape from whatever goes on at home, and he's aware that a student's safe place being school is typically a bad sign.

but maybe that's too much to just tell you right off the bat, you might think he's crazy, you probably already think he's a little crazy.

"aww, you're gonna miss me".

and mark is unsure of why, but a red hue strikes his formerly vain skin, it's simply mindless teasing, yet he can't help his flustered nature. jesus, he might actually have a heart attack, why did the room suddenly spike in temperature?

if you notice, you make no comment. oh that must've been a good ego boost.

"yeah um.. we've really come a long way since september".

he's sounding a little too sentimental, a break really is nothing, mark guesses donghyuck was right, he does care way too much, even so, he feels it's justified. you stare for a moment, scribbling something in your notebook as your gaze averts. "thanks for not giving up on me, even if i was an unbearable asshole in the beginning".

"don't say that" mark softly chides.

"it's pretty true, you can admit it".

he clears his throat, smile displayed. "so are you gonna come to me friday?"

you nod. "if i don't get caught".

mark doesn't mean to showcase his anxiety in the manner of his expression switch, but hiding his lingering fright has proven him extremely difficult, his mother said it's 'detrimental' to commit such an act.

you tilt your head. "are you okay?"

mark nods much too quickly, rendered somewhat speechless. "fine".

the rest of the day is surprisingly less awkward than he expects.

the week completely exhausts mark, he could probably hang onto his own eye bags at this point. though you feign bright normalcy, it's obvious that you're just as tired, you'll both be wiped out after finals.

yet you seem pretty lighthearted.

"you sure walking is just fine?"

"we could hop the train".

a small frown tugs at mark's lips, but the joke isn't exactly distasteful. "i've never gotten that far" the overcast sky clashes with your dark jacket, it's somewhat of a picturesque image, your best features are explicitly highlighted, even with the shadowed sunlight.

"really? i did once in eighth, the conductor let us off at the middle of nowhere, we got a terrible scolding after that one".

mark's eyebrows furrow, there's a lack of context in that reply, as if you said it to yourself instead of to mark. "us?"

your nose scrunches for a minute. "old foster friend, i used to do everything to get in trouble, he'd tag along for the adventure of it".

"oh".

mark doesn't mean to extend the silence, but talking isn't anything of an accord to you, it's easy to sink into a fit of silence, nothing of a bother.

things appear so young and innocuous outside, sometimes mark believes that nature could be the perfect picture of innocence, if it didn't also harbor an equal opportunity of available danger. he shivers, almost slipping on ice which lays dormant on the floor, no snow yet.

mark wishes he could have not a care in the world, and judging by your circumstances, you clearly do too.

the place is a way's walk, but mark guesses it was good to get in some steps. it appears pretty homely, somewhat aged, the walls are cracked, tiles exposed, and from the captured glimpse of the menus, they're old laminated ones.

you stare with fondness, the smell bringing a sense of warmth to you, as if the place healed your scars. "basically, this place is my home".

"is the food up to par?"

"you don't even have to ask".

mark chuckles, and you can't resist your own corresponding chuckle.

"y/n? is that you?"

at the call of your name you blink, smiling right away. it's an older woman, early fifties probably, her jaw hanging in a manner of recognition. "oh you're so big now!"

"hi mrs. saeng" you don't step away, instead you allow for her to fully embrace you, mark simply observing. "sorry, i know last time i said my next visit would be soon".

"oh it doesn't matter, you're still so adorable!" she squeals as she cups your cheeks, completely rendering you speechless. "and your friend is..?"

"mark" you just barely speak through the squeezing of your cheeks. "he's my classmate".

the woman smiles, a huge, homely smile that strikes comfort mark wasn't exactly expecting. his hands come to clasp in front of him, the typical sweet smile taking over his features. "hi, it's nice to meet you".

she gapes in her spot. "he's even cuter than you! oh my goodness look at his cheeks!"

your nose scrunches up in offense, yet it's clearly feigned. "cuter than me? that's rude to say auntie!"

she crazily fawns before you sit, and as you observe the laminated menus which appear on their last lives, your lips take an upturn, but not at a specific thing, simply at them. "auntie?" he inquires.

you snicker. "there's no relation, she's just an old family friend".

auntie by association, mark guessed that one, he again didn't recognize any sort of relation between you two.

and really, it seems you haven't eaten in a while, mark can't help but observe the tiny things. "did you have breakfast this morning?"

you pause, pretending you are genuinely contemplating something. he's pretty sure you burn your tongue midway through inhaling the bouts of food, yet that seems to be the last of your worries, he can't help the goofy laughter which escapes him at that. "it upsets my stomach".

mark doesn't bother inquiring about lunch, his gaze immediately softening. "you need to make sure you always eat, okay?"

you stare, mark supposes the words appear a bit shallow. sometimes people can barely get out of bed, not even able to roll over to throw off their covers, or fold their blankets, or they find themselves rendered so exhausted that mundane tasks extract so much energy.

but it seems you reply with a soft gaze of your own, radiance carrying your expression. "okay".

mark hums, leaning back in his seat. "so what is this place to you?"

you don't even glance upward. "special spot, it holds good memories, from way before everything that's happened.. well— happened".

"you brought me to your special spot, so i'm special?"

you finally do spare a glance, your smile is one of the prettiest sights ever. "of course".

a smile blossoms over his features, his posture unconsciously straightening. he isn't sure why the news excites him so much, he'll internalize it though.

WHEN IT GETS TO A CERTAIN POINT, MARK IS UNSURE OF HOW HE LIVES through the week. he has always prided himself on his intelligence, it isn't the topics which perturb him, it's the extent of his own mind. his eyes grow heavier with each passing day, his wrists may have gone limp, but he doesn't pass out just yet, a good record in comparison to last year. it's simply exam after exam after exam, blue pen marks clashing in the visions of his dreams. he can't even close his eyes without seeing muddled geometric equations, he's going to begin reciting them in the startling mumbles midway through one of his sleepwalking episodes. it's a miracle how he makes it through finals week, but he does, possibly no bad markings.

the exams happen to be the least of his issues though, throughout his week, he was mainly stuck on christmas, specifically stuck on christmas gifts, specially stuck on christmas gifts for you.

again, you two only have one double period class together, and the week is full of packet after packet, nothing of a technical interaction going down. the somewhat date-y nature of your restaurant outing comforted him through the piercing manner of trigonometry, he guesses it's pretty funny.

mark's mind reverts back to the many moments of you scribbling with your pen in your notebook, the specific mini sketches you have kept placed beside your trig notations, and it becomes clear what he should get you as a gift.

when the week finally comes to a close, mark is simply glad that he's alive, glad that the information didn't all mix into mush, glad that he got a seemingly perfect gift for you.

"okay, how do you think you did?"

a scrunch of your nose is the opted response, but you don't seem any worried. "it should all be fine, i think all the information seeped into my brain".

the reply draws a chuckle, mark allowing for his head to tip downward. "you're probably the reason i passed, have some faith in yourself".

"hey, you have to give yourself some credit too, you're pretty much a genius".

mark, again, blushes. he doesn't mean for it all to shine through, he simply can't help it. you're much too sweet, even through your whispered compliments, terms shyly spilling from your lips while your head remains downturned.

it's.. cute.

you begin picking at your nails, clearing your throat. mark smiles at you; "thanks, but i really couldn't have done it without you".

you definitely want to argue with that, but your mouth plops shut, your eyes darting away. "i'm so fucking tired".

"maybe you should sleep through this break".

you giggle at that one, eyes seemingly getting heavier. "sleeping is really all i can do anyway",

mark hums, attempting to inconspicuously eye the box he carried all around the day. he pays a few glances between before taking in a huge breath, a breath which you causes the furrow of your brows. "um.. uh— okay, don't freak out".

apparently those words do a lot, as you let out possibly the loudest laugh ever since you two became friends. something about his delivery possibly, the amusement manifests in your movement, much less in your laughter. "are you gonna pull out a gun or something?"

mark frowns, true annoyance in naught. "no, i just have a gift for you and i don't—"

your laughter comes to an immediate stop, head tilting sideways, puzzled. "you.. what?"

mark blanks for a moment, the words disappearing into the air. "christmas is coming up, i uh.. you know we won't see each other during christmas, so i got you something".

you blink, dumbfounded, absolutely staggered, as if the act is terribly unheard of. you almost appear terrified, a callback to the moment where you called mark a weirdo for his regard when your knuckles were aptly split.

you're sending him one of those looks.

"why would you— did you spend your own money why would you do that?"

and there's less of disbelief there, more of guilt, guilt mark can't idly place. you shouldn't feel guilty for anything, yet you seem to. "hey, it's okay, it was all in my own will, just open it".

mark is even more excited than you, sliding the completely totally cynical box over despite your insanely watchful eye. your facial muscles twitch in desperation to display your own enthusiasm, but you somehow keep it at bay.

your fingers twitch. "what is it?"

"that would ruin the surprise".

mark is very impatient, tapping his feet incessantly, fingers again coming to repeat the act in a somewhat similar rhythm. you stare down the box, possibly hoping for it to open itself. he begins getting anxious after a moment, the less than rapid unwrapping keeping a tension in the air.

you seem to want to take your time, as if fearing as creature hidden in the box. mark places his hands in his lap, gazing endlessly.

when you finally pear into it, you again tilt your head, blinking. "holy shit".

mark snickers, that has to be a good one. "yeah".

"how did you— why did you— oh my god.."

it's simple, but mark was aware it would have the desired effect. you stare downward, completely and utterly astonished, you don't expect it, of course you don't, yet the reaction is great for mark.

you're out of words for a moment, so mark decides to take that time; "i sort of observed— i mean.. i figured you liked drawing, art, saw your notebook, saw your sketches, it seemed like the perfect gift to get you".

you blink again, simply pure devotion behind your eyes, as if you were one term from confessing your love to him. it's a art set, a cute kit consisting of colored pencils, markers, and even paintbrushes, it looks.. expensive. "how much..?"

"it doesn't matter" he cuts in, clasping his hands. "i wanted to get you something".

that should be enough.

you seem to struggle with what to say, unable to find the exact words until your lips begin trembling. "thank you, i don't know how to repay you".

"you don't have to".

a frown tugs at your lips, you clearly don't like the sound of that one. "i'll get you a gift of your own after the break, don't worry".

mark's nose scrunches, but he can't argue with you, because he really does want a gift, yearns to see what it may all add up to. he clears his own throat, hands smoothing over his thighs.

"i just wanted to get you something because—"

"i know, thank you".

he can't even help staring in the manner he does, his lips taking an upturn, eyes holding remaining regard he's always known he felt.

"it's nothing".

well, mark guesses it is something, he just has to figure out what something exactly entails.