hi my name is em (she/her). i'm 23. i write whatever fake scenario comes to mind. i don't write smut. feel free to drop some asks bc i love answering questions n also feedbacks are appreciated ă ă . i'm a college student, hence, heavy workload at times so i just write during my free time!
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mark shakes his head and points his chopsticks at the screen. âno, people usually donât go to the hospital this early in the game. especially if the symptoms are just flu-like.â
itâs a game to mark, and that sends a quick shiver down your spine. you spill a bit of leftover noodle soup on your leg.
pairing | mark x reader | apocalypse!au | fluff + angst | 3.4k |
warnings: implied sex, description of illness, death
pairing ⼠mark x reader
genre ⼠angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, best friends to lovers, roommate au
word count ⼠19.1k
note ⼠this was inspired by sticker teaser mark. also because he really does keep pushing the parasocial relationship agenda these days. i really hope you guys like this because it took me at least 40+ hours to get it out so it's practically my baby now
playlist ⼠west coast love - emotional oranges | saturday nights - khalid | hits different - taylor swift | shutdown - moonbyul, seori
synopsis âĽÂ Mark Lee. The most perfect roommate and best friend that you could have asked for - except for the fact that he constantly messes up your laundry and canât cook eggs very well. Even then, that doesnât quite stop you from falling for him in your final year.
You suppose meeting Mark Lee was a stroke of fate. Whether good or not, you had yet to find out.
Freshman orientation, and you had just been deposited on the concrete steps of the main university building by your parents, who were quick to drive off after giving you one last hug.
And as you passed through the hallowed halls where you were meant to spend the next five years of your life, thousands of other people your age rushing past you, you were excited. That you were finally on your own, free to do quite literally whatever the fuck you wanted.
The freedom was going to go to your head, and cause you to probably make a few bad decisions, but that was a problem for later.
For now, you had to get registered. If you could even find that tiny blue booth in this gigantic place.
And as you pulled your luggage up the steps, staring at the phone screen with your other hand, you supposed it was partially your fault that you didnât see the boy walking straight past you, and also your fault that you didnât hear him muttering an âexcuse meâ under his breath.
However, it was a little too late to realise that before you were sent flying to the ground, a harsh exhale of air leaving you as you hit the ground with a thump.
And as you winced in pain, you looked up, only to be met with the culprit himself.
âShit, Iâm so sorry. Went too fast.â The boy in front of you is wide-eyed, hands fisting nervously in the material of his washed out jeans, the grey plaid flannel hanging loosely over his shoulders and white-shirt. âYou good?â
He extends a hand out to you, and you take it without thinking as he pulls you up. Itâs a while before you collect yourself, glancing at him and not quite sure what to say.
âUm,â he scratches the back of his neck, cringing slightly. âReally sorry about that. First day here and Iâm already knocking people down. I guess Hyuck was right.â
You have no idea who Hyuck is, and why heâs predicting the future for the awkward, gangly-limbed boy in front of you, but the sight of his expression makes you soften a little. Heâs genuinely apologetic about it, and you suppose that beyond your ass being sore for the next two days, there hasnât been much harm done.
âItâs okay. Youâre a freshman too?â You ask, trying to break the ice a little - he seems nice enough, the kind of person who youâd smile at on campus when passing by.
At your question, he laughs a little, eyes lighting up. âYeah. I was trying to find the registration counter before I crashed right into you.â
âWell, if you help me find it, consider this accident gone from my memory. Iâm a little lost too,â you offer, and he nods eagerly. âNo problem. Itâs down that way, I think.â
And when he turns, motioning for you to follow, you smile. Your first friend on campus. Sort of.
âHey, I realised I still donât know your name,â you say, and Mystery Boy seems to hesitate for a moment, before smiling at you.
âMark Lee. Engineering faculty. You?â
âY/N. Early education.â
âSo you wanna be a teacher?â he asks, and you shrug. âDonât know. Iâm not sure how much I like working with kids yet.â
âThatâs fair. Oh, weâre here.â He halts his steps, joining the queue with you.
Itâs not long before the both of you reach the front, the students being registered in pairs.
The person handling the both of you is a young-looking guy, and his nametag reads Jung Jaehyun. When he smiles, his dimples are obvious, and you find yourself relaxing a little.
âRegistration documents, please. Weâll get this done quickly,â he says, quickly scanning the papers that you and Mark hand over.
âYouâll be staying in the dorms for the first semester, and then afterwards, you can either do rental on your own, or off-campus housing. Any ideas yet?â Jaehyun asks, and you motion for Mark to go first.
âUm, rental on my own.â
You nod in agreement at that. âYeah, me too.â
Youâve heard that the off-campus housing isnât that great, and almost the same price as apartments in the city.
âWell, that works. Though, word of advice-â Jaehyun rests his hand on the table, meeting both of your eyes. âGet a roommate. Or two. Saves lots of money. Preferably one who doesnât smoke copious amounts of weed, because it stinks up the entire house.â
He says it like he has personal experience, and you cough into your hand, nodding.
âEither of you got roommates yet?â
âNo.â You and Mark say it in unison, looking at each other when you realise it and grinning slightly.
Jaehyun leans back, looking at the both of you with an unreadable look in his eyes. âEither of you stoners?â
You and Mark shake your head, and he whistles, impressed. âThatâs rare. Well, just rent an apartment together, then.â
You glance at Mark, not quite sure what to say - you just met the man, after all.
âUm, weâll think about it. Thanks for the suggestion,â he says, and Jaehyun nods. âNo problem. here are your nametags, and you can head to the central square for the welcome activities.â
Your fingers close around the thin plastic folder, quickly thanking Jaehyun before you leave with Mark, the suggestion still lingering in your mind.
You do need a roommate. And Mark seems like a chill enough person, unless heâs secretly a serial killer.
âSoâŚwhere are you planning to rent?â
âProbably somewhere near the city centre, but south. Itâs nearer to the engineering faculty.â
When Mark says that, you feel a little bit more hopeful. âMe too. The education buildingâs just two subway stops down.â
âI wouldnât mind, actually. You pay rent on time?â
âYeah, I will. Dividing chores?â
âOf course. Also, just to make sure-â his mouth quirks up at the side. âYouâre not a serial killer, right?â
âFortunately not. I was thinking the same thing too.â
âOkay, great to know that weâre both not serial killers.â His comment lightens the mood a little, and you pause in your steps, outstretching your hand to Mark.
âGive me your phone. Iâll put my number in, and we can be friends first before deciding if we want to rent together next semester.â
He doesnât protest, quickly slipping his phone out of his pocket and keying in his password.
And as you take it, you see his wallpaper - itâs a little white dog, staring up into the camera while someoneâs sneakers are in frame - maybe his.
âYour wallpaper is cute. Is it your dog?â you ask, and Markâs cheeks redden slightly as he shakes his head. âMy friendâs. Sheâs called Daegal.â
âSheâs really small. I wanted a dog when I was a kid,â you say off-handedly, quickly typing in your number and saving it with a âY/N (potential future roomie)â before giving his phone back to him. âHere.â
âYou could get one next time.â
âMaybe. I can barely take care of myself now. Iâm not sure if I can handle a dog.â
âI could ask my friend for advice, if you need it,â he says, smiling when he sees the contact name you saved. âAnyways, Iâll see you around, potential future roomie. We can get coffee next week or something.â
âSounds good to me. By the way, Mark-â
He looks up at you, hands already tucked into his pockets.
âWhoâs Hyuck?â
You only meet Hyuck, or otherwise known to everyone else as Lee Donghyuck, after you actually become roommates with Mark.
Somewhere along the way, the coffee outings had worked out, neither you or Mark finding each otherâs presence unwanted, until it became natural to see Mark at least twice a week. Sometimes, it was midnight fries at McDonalds, and other times, it was lunches in the food hall, praying that the fresh pasta hadnât yet run out.
And when the semester ended, you hadnât hesitated to sign the lease that Mark handed you, for a perfectly-sized two-bedroom apartment overlooking one of the many crisscrossing side streets that made up the district.
It had the kitchenette you wanted, enough space in the living room for a four-person couch, and space for Mark to put his keyboard and guitar - which was the only thing he really wanted, honestly. The rest of the finishing touches had been suggested by you, like the IKEA oak coffee table and the extra cabinets for storage space.
The first month had been awkward and fraught with trivial disagreements, despite your relatively close friendship. Things like Mark not separating the blacks and whites during his laundry runs, or your terrible habit of leaving the bathroom light on at night. At some point, the both of you had even bickered over what plates to get, partially because you didnât trust him with fragile items quite yet.
But his easygoing nature matched well with yours, and eventually the both of you settled into the rhythm of living together. He learnt that rule number one was to never go into your room without knocking or asking first, and you eventually stopped nagging at him to put a shirt on unless you were having friends over.
And sometime in August, you had come home, groceries in both of your hands, to find a complete stranger sitting on your couch, headphones placed squarely on his head.
You had screamed at him. and Donghyuck, naturally, had screamed back.
The both of you looked at each other, frozen, before Mark came rushing down the hallway, a confused expression on his face. âWhat- oh.â
âMark, I thought you told her I was coming,â the man complains, his honey-brown hair falling over his eyes as he says it. Your gaze immediately shifts to your roommate, a very clear expression of what the hell? on your face.
âI think I forgot. Sorry. Um, Y/N, this is Hyuck.â Mark motions in the general periphery of the man on the couch, who smiles sweetly at you.
âDonghyuck to you. Weâre not friends yet. Though we could be,â the boy adds thoughtfully, and you still havenât quite recovered from the shock of the situation as you nod robotically. âNice to meet you.â
Mark seems to notice the tension in the air, and immediately moves over to the kitchen counter. âIâll help you unpack the groceries,â he offers, and you hand a few bags over to him.
Once Donghyuckâs out of earshot, however, you turn to Mark. âIs he staying for dinner? I donât know if I bought enough ingredients.â
You and Mark had agreed to alternate cooking dinners each week, unless the other person had extenuating circumstances (like final exams). This week, it was your turn.
âItâs fine. If he doesnât have enough, he can just make ramen,â Mark says, and you nod.
âMark says youâre a really good cook.â The both of you jump at the sound of Donghyuckâs voice, not realising he came up behind at some point.
âThatâs just because I can crack eggs, and Mark canât.â You snort slightly at the expression on Markâs face when you say that, his eyes widening in incredulity.
âYou said I improved!â
âHaving less eggshells to chew through in my omelette was an improvement,â you say, and his face falls comically. While he has made some improvements since learning to cook, you suppose eggs are the one thing that still intimidate him - Mark relies a lot more on oven-baked dinners and the air fryer to get the both of you through.
âYouâre brave for eating what he makes,â Donghyuck comments.
âVery brave,â you say gravely, and he laughs. âI like her, Mark. Sheâs funny.â
âThanks a lot, guys. Really feeling the love here,â your roommate grumbles, but Donghyuck ignores him, turning to you.
âCan we have kimchi-jjigae for dinner?â he asks, and you stiffen, because the ingredients you prepared are exactly for that dish. But you donât quite want to give Donghyuck that satisfaction yet, only tilting your head up and narrowing your eyes at him.
âThis isnât a restaurant. Youâll eat what I give you.â
His eyes widen slightly, but itâs quickly replaced by mirth. âNoted, maâam,â he retorts, and you decide that Donghyuck is the kind of person whoâs annoying as all hell, but in the fun kind of way that makes you want to have him around and groan at his presence at the same time.
âNow, I need the both of you to move to the couch, because this kitchenette is way too small for three.â You make a shooing motion towards the two men, and thankfully, they listen obediently, Donghyuck returning back to his laptop.
After a while, you hear shuffling, and you turn to see Mark with his lips pursed, barely holding back a laugh. At the sight of his obvious amusement, you raise an eyebrow.
âLook at this video,â he says, turning the phone screen towards you, and you squint at the grainy resolution, before letting out a groan.
âMark, this video is like, a decade old. No one watches Vines anymore,â you grumble, and your roommate stares at you incredulously. âBut itâs still funny!â
âNo, itâs not,â you say dryly, looking to Donghyuck for support, whoâs watching the entire thing play out with amusement on his features. âDonghyuck, tell him the video isnât funny.â
âThatâs what I said. He sends me at least two a day,â the boy says from where heâs cross-legged on the couch, and Mark flashes you a look of utter, complete betrayal.
âSorry, Mark,â you say lightly, patting him on the back in an act of comfort before he returns to the couch, dejected. Itâs almost cute, and you hide your snort as you return back to your spot at the stove.
âWhat about this one?â You hear Mark ask Hyuck a few minutes later, who doesnât hesitate to disagree and go on a tirade about how he doesnât understand someone can be that unfunny and think itâs okay to put me through it by sending video after video.
The conversation only makes you smile as you settle into the familiar motion of prepping ingredients, something about it making you feel more at ease and more at home in the apartment that youâve been in for only four months.
Corny sense of humor aside, you couldnât ask for a better roommate. And you suppose Lee Donghyuck is okay too.
Eventually, the both of you do become friends, especially when Donghyuck realises the kimchi-jjigae you make is almost as good as his grandmaâs, and while sheâs a three-hour flight away, you and Mark live twenty minutes from his dorm.
Your freshman year passes that way, the beginning of so many things. Between the months spent studying and sitting at the counter eating ramen at midnight, Mark Lee becomes your best friend, until the both of you are almost inseparable.
And Donghyuck? Well, he comes and goes. Though you suppose you do have a modicum of affection for the overly dramatic theatre major.
Thereâs something thrilling about being in your final year, less than twelve months before you graduate.
You wonder if everything will be the same as it always is.
âWho the fuck is Draymond Green?â
âHeâs a basketball player, you idiot.â
âYou could have said Stephen Curry. I know who that is.â
âIs that the only one you know?â
âAs a matter of fact, yes.â Donghyuck sets down his drink as he says it, eyes deliberately challenging Chenle to continue their pointless banter, one that the rest of you witness quietly, already used to the both of them.
âIf the both of you are done, try finishing the food. We ordered too much,â Jisung says, and both Donghyuck and Chenle turn towards him in sync.
âAre you giving me instructions?â Donghyuck asks incredulously.
âIâm older than you, you know,â Chenle not-so-helpfully points out, and you look at the youngest boy sympathetically as his shoulders sink and his lips purse in an almost comical expression of frustration.
Except that itâs Jisung, and youâve always had a soft spot for the introverted dance major, whoâs like a little brother to you.
âQuit it, you two. He acts more mature than the both of you on most days.â At your words, Jisung smiles brightly at you, and you motion for him to eat a little more. âA dance major needs more food.â
âTheatre majors need food too!â Donghyuck whines dramatically, and you donât hesitate to move the plate away from him, ignoring his protests that become even louder.
âYou should eat too,â Mark encourages in a low murmur, picking up the tempura with his chopsticks and placing it on your plate. âYou didnât take much.â
You smile at him, shaking your head. âItâs okay. Yeji bought pizza for everyone today after our meeting, and Ms Lee let us finish the leftover muffins. Iâm stuffed.â
âStill, you shouldnât drink on an empty stomach,â he chides, moving the can of cider a little further from you, and you decide to relent to your best friendâs demand.
âGot it. You know, you should have just gone for a degree in Nutrition,â you tease, and the corner of Markâs mouth quirks up as he meets your eyes. âI could. But EngineeringâsâŚfun.â
âDonât lie, Mark. I sat in on one of your lectures once.â
âThatâs because it was the middle of the year! And data structures is one of the hardest topics in the syllabus.â
âStill, I think that was enough numbers to last me a lifetime.â You shiver at the memory of the screen, the different formulas displayed having been enough to give you a headache.
âI could teach you,â he offers, and you raise an eyebrow. âYou think youâre better than Mr Kim?â
âProbably. Unless you see me as a balding sixty-five-year-old on the verge of sleep.â
âI mean, there is a slight resemblance- ow!â
Mark pinches your side at your comment, taking more food and dumping it in your bowl. âNo more nonsense. Eat, or youâre never getting your drink back.â
âYouâre so bossy,â you grumble, but you take a few bites anyway, and he looks pleased when he sees you finish a little bit more of the rice.
Until you see Jisung frantically taking out his phone in your peripheral vision, his screen lighting up with something that makes him let out a guttural groan. Donghyuck and Chenle pause their conversation temporarily, just to turn towards him.
âWhatâs wrong?â Chenle asks, and Jisung seems to hesitate, fingers drumming on the table as he meets your gazes one by one.
âI forgot I have filming at eight tomorrow. Fuck,â he says, ruffling his own hair in frustration.
âAnd your dormâs so far away from here tooâŚâ
You look at Mark, trying to think of a solution.
âJisung?â The boy opposite looks up at your mention of his name. âHow about you stay at our place tonight?â you offer.
He seems to think about it, glancing towards Mark for approval as well. Your roommate only shrugs. âSure. Weâll make space.â
All at once, Jisungâs features seem to light up, and he clasps his hands together, head bent down. âThank you. You two are lifesavers.â
His earnest words make you laugh softly. âShould we head back then? Itâs late.â
Mark nods, motioning for the bill, and you pack up your things.
Eventually, the five of you leave the restaurant and step out onto the smooth cobblestone of the street, with Jisung, Donghyuck and Chenle in front while you and Mark trail behind.
âi canât believe itâs already November,â Mark comments, gaze tilted upwards to the sky.
âHonestly, I donât think Iâve even registered that weâre in our final year. Much less that the first semester is ending.â
âBut youâve got everything all planned out already, haven't you?â
âSort of,â you reply sheepishly, and Mark laughs, shaking his head. âYouâre way too ambitious. Itâs a little scary.â
âPretty sure I remember someone saying that ambition led to success in my high school Civics class. Either way, I want to retire by the time Iâm forty.â
âBefore that, could you use your income to buy us a bigger apartment?â
âWhat, you think weâll be roommates with each other until Iâm forty?â
âI donât see why not,â Mark says earnestly, and it makes the space he takes up in your heart get a little bigger, curling warmly at the edges.
âIâll think about it. Maybe Iâll move to an island in the middle of nowhere, away from civilization.â
âAs if. Youâre a city girl,â he points out, and you know that Mark knows that you know heâs right. âSo, roommates at forty?â he asks, and your lips tilt up involuntarily.
âSure.â
Itâs not long before youâre standing at the entrance of your apartment building, Donghyuck and Chenle waving goodbye before they head to the subway station. Meanwhile, Jisung follows behind the both of you, slightly reminiscent of a lost puppy.
Once youâre back home, you quickly hang your jacket in the cabinet. âIâm showering first, okay?â
The two boys make a noise of assent at your question, and you assume Markâs going to lend Jisung his clothes to change into as they go down the hallway.
Itâs only when you step out of the bathroom that you hear the soft background sound effects of some video game from Markâs room, Jisung occasionally exclaiming something inaudible, and you smile slightly. Your best friend isnât one for these sorts of things, but itâs quite a big hobby for the rest of them. There have been a few times where youâve shuffled out of your bedroom at midnight to tell them to quiet down, usually receiving a few quickly muttered apologies before Donghyuckâs screaming at Mark to get his head in the game.
You hope that they wonât stay up too late, mainly for Jisungâs sake - he has a shoot, after all, and youâre pretty sure Mark doesnât have any morning lessons on Saturdays.
Sleep finds you quickly, the alcohol from earlier making you just the right amount of drowsy as you attempt to set an alarm for tomorrow for breakfast.
âY/N.â
âHey, wake up.â
âY/N.â
You let out a groan into your pillow, turning away from the dream voice that sounds suspiciously like Mark - youâre too tired to deal with this.
But the voice doesnât go away, instead changing to an insisted hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and you open your eyes to glare sleepily at your best friend, before looking at the clock.
âItâs four in the morning, Mark. Unless thereâs a fire or something-â
âIf there was a fire, Iâd sound a lot more panicked than this, donât you think?â he shoots back sarcastically, and you take in his appearance - heâs wearing a grey hoodie, a pillow hugged in his left arm, and looking just a little forlorn.
âWhat is it? I want to sleep,â you mumble.
âJisung takes up too much space. And he snores.â
âJust push him.â
âI tried! Fell off the bed,â he confesses, and you would laugh at the scene, except that youâre still half-asleep.
âCan I just sleep here for tonight?â he asks, doe eyes blinking at you blearily, and you hesitate at the request - itâs not like youâre uncomfortable with Mark sleeping next to you. Youâve fallen asleep on his shoulder plenty of times, and there was that one time where you literally passed out drunk and the boy had to piggyback you to your apartment, but this is your bed.
However, youâre also well aware that Markâs bed is a twin size, which is smaller and probably highly uncomfortable for him and Jisung to share, while yours is a queen.
You were being overdramatic. It was just a bed, and Mark was your best friend. Of three years, no less.
Also, it literally didnât have to mean anything.
Right?
There was plenty of space. Enough for you to keep your distance from him.
You chalk up your doubts to late-night overthinking, and nod slowly. Well, as best as someone can nod while lying on their side, but itâs enough for Mark to smile at you gratefully.
âTake the left side. If you move over, Iâll kick you,â you threaten, and he nods eagerly. âNoted.â
And just for security, you place a pillow between the both of you.
Itâs only when heâs lying down next to you, breathing evened out, that you peek open one eye. âGo to sleep.â
âYeah, I will soon,â he promises, turning to face you. In the darkness of the room, you can barely make out his features, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. âGoodnight, Y/N.â
Something about it feels strangely sweet, enough for your cheeks to redden slightly as you turn resolutely away from him, staring hard at the wall of your cabinet. âNight.â
Two months into your lease with Mark, the both of you had created your informal agreement, otherwise labelled as âRoommate Code of Honourâ on Markâs Notes app.
âCode of honour? What are you, a boy scout?â
âI was, actually. First-class,â Mark says without hesitation, and you almost choke on the mouthful of chocolate cake that you have.
âMakes sense.â He seemed exactly like the kind of person who would be a boy scout.
âAnyways, this is just for us to put down stuff that we think is important. Like, I know that weâre supposed to separate the blacks and whites, but-â
âBut-â
âWhat about coloured clothing?â he asks, and you gape at him. âMark, have you been washing all the coloured clothes together?â
âMaybeâŚâ he trails off, gaze leaving yours and anxiously taking a sip of the drink.
âOkay, this is a good idea. Give me your phone,â you say as you stretch out your hand, but Mark pulls his phone back from you.
âThis is meant to be a collaborative process, Y/N.â
âIt wasnât collaborative the moment you turned all my white shirts grey.â
Mark winces at that. âFair point. But we still need to be equal on this.â
âFine,â you relent.
And over an hour, seated on the second floor of your favourite cafe, you and Mark pick the ten most important things that you want to keep, the others either compromised or decided as simply too insignificant.
#2: always put the toilet seat back down (and clean your hair off the sink after shaving)
âYou leave hair all over the place too!â Mark protests, and you roll your eyes.
#2: always put the toilet seat back down (and clean your hair off everywhere)
#3: laundry and cleaning the house will be alternated each week
#4: two daysâ advance notice before having anyone over (not required for hyuck, yeji, jaemin or karina)
âDoes this include hookups?â you ask, and Mark blushes at that question. âYeah, I guess.â
âNo hookups on nights where the other person has to wake up early the next day,â you add, and he nods. âSure.â
Most of them are trivial, but important - and despite all your teasing, youâre grateful for someone like Mark, whoâs willing to be a good roommate.
Until you reach the last one, which makes you smile.
#10: movie nights are every friday at 10pm
Mark had argued something about âroommate bondingâ, or the importance of relationship-building- you werenât quite sure what exactly, but the idea had sounded good to you.
Because youâd never been one for university parties, preferring to stay in unless your presence was absolutely required, but the idea of unwinding with your close friend at the end of the week was a welcome form of socialization.
âDo we pick the movie every week?â you ask, and he nods. âWe can make a list too.â
âOkay.â You slide the phone back over to him, finishing the last of your coffee. âI think this looks good.â
âMe too,â Mark says, satisfaction tugging at his lips, and his eyes are bright as he looks at you.
The atmosphere feels strangely light and hopeful - as if itâs just the very start of something.
And youâre right - because throughout sophomore and junior year, Mark becomes the one most constant thing in your life. The both of you have changed slightly in your own ways, but the movie nights are still the one thing you look forward to at the end of the week, where your legs are thrown over his lap and whatever takeout youâve gotten for dinner spread out over the coffee table.
Today is another one of those days, and you wonder how both you and Mark havenât run out of movies to watch yet - he said something about Avatar today, you think, having sent you a text earlier of the poster.
When you kick off your shoes in the doorway, Markâs already on the couch, absentmindedly nibbling at the popcorn.
âStarting without me?â you ask, and he shakes his head, handing you your own bowl.
It was another thing that the both of you had agreed on - after all, you liked your popcorn sweet and caramel-flavoured, and while you couldnât understand how someone liked salty popcorn, well - there was Mark.
Which meant two separate bowls chock-full of the snack, enough to make the both of you happy.
âMark,â you start, and the man hums in acknowledgement. âYou know we have a Disney Plus subscription, right? And Netflix too?â
âYeah, but the movie just came out like, five days ago. This is pirated.â
âWe can just wait for it to be uploaded, then.â
âBut I really want to watch it,â he half-pleads and half-whines. âBesides, Hyuck went, and heâll definitely spoil it.â
You suppose heâs right, but as you lean back, crossing your legs on the couch, you frown. âWeâre going to get porn pop-ups every thirty minutes.â
He coughs awkwardly at that, making you grin slightly. Itâs strange how shy he gets, considering youâd expect Mark to at least have some experience with girls - or at least not act like the topic of sex is enough to make him embarrassed.
However, heâs still fiddling with the laptop, crouched next to the console, when you poke his side with your foot.
You have a crazy idea. A good one, but crazy nonetheless.
âWhat if we went to the cinema right now?â you ask, and he blinks at you, stunned.
âRight now? Itâs like, one hour to midnight.â
âYeah. Iâm pretty sure they have showings.â You whip out your phone for emphasis, quickly going to the website and letting out a hum of satisfaction when you find it.
âThirty minutes. We can make it.â
Mark looks at you hesitantly - always having been the less spontaneous one of the both of you. But itâs a Friday, after all, and itâs good, harmless fun.
And you know he really wants to watch the movie, if the way heâs on freemovies123.com and patiently waiting for each risquĂŠ ad to disappear is any indication.
âIâll pay for tickets,â you offer, smiling knowingly when he lights up a little - itâs characteristic of any college student to perk up at the mention of anything free, after all, and you know heâs slowly shifting to a âyesâ.
Itâs barely a few seconds before he shuts his laptop, meeting your gaze. âWe should get changed. Itâs cold out today.â
Thereâs one good thing about having a roommate with a driving license - that itâs not you.
Because while Mark worries about traffic lights and less-than-friendly taxi drivers, youâre staring out the window absentmindedly, enjoying Bruno Major filtering out the speakers.
It had been one thing he wanted - a good sound system, just so the both of you could enjoy your playlists on the road.
Thankfully, the timing means that thereâs barely anyone else around as Mark goes down the highway, humming softly to the music.
âI like late-night drives with you,â you chirp, gaze fixed on Markâs expression as he smiles, face fading in and out of the golden light of the street lamps.
âAny particular reason?â
âYouâre a good driver,â you start, and he turns towards you briefly, narrowing his eyes. âYou make me sound like an Uber hire.â
âUm-â you lick your lips. âYou have good music?â you try, and your best friend lets out a laugh that sounds more like a scoff, shaking his head. âYouâre hopeless,â he says, and you immediately lean closer, shaking your head.
âItâs not just that! When you drive, I-â you hesitate, trying to find the exact words. âI feel really safe. I donât really feel that way with anyone else on the road.â
Mark doesnât respond for a few moments, but from the way his hands tighten on the wheel, you know he heard every word clearly.
After a while, he finally speaks.
âIs that why you get me to drive you everywhere?â he asks, and you nod slowly, until you see the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement, earning him a punch on the shoulder from you.
âDonât laugh. Iâm serious. Car accidents can do a lot to a person, you know.â
Itâs only then that Mark straightens. âCar accident?â
âYeah,â you hum, fiddling with the volume of the music to turn it down. âGot into one when I was a kid.â
âHow bad?â
âNot that bad. I was in the backseat, so there were only a few scrapes. The other car got it worse, honestly.â
Youâve never told anyone else about this, simply because itâs never quite come up. But when you spend so much time with someone like Mark, small snippets of your life come up eventually - like how you know he sprained his ankle once playing soccer, or that he failed art in elementary school but got perfect grades for music.
And when the feeling of his hand settles warmly over yours, youâre yanked out of your thoughts, blankly staring at his fingers winding themselves between your thumb and your index.
It causes heat to flood through you, even though youâre aware the action is meant to be soothing.
When you hear his next words, however, itâs enough to make your heart soften to a dangerous degree - of such unspeakable fondness that only Mark has been able to elicit to some extent.
âIâll drive you everywhere from now on, okay? Promise,â he smiles softly as he says it, tugging your pinky towards his own before you can even respond to seal the agreement.
Even when he was a kid, Mark took easily to leadership.
He remembers standing on the podium on his first day on the job as student president, socks cuffed at the perfect length past his ankles, as he delivered his first stuttered-out address to hundreds of middle-schoolers no older than him.
It got easier after that, as he fell into the role more comfortably.
After that, it was chairperson of his high-school music club, helping to compose different pieces for the summer and winter festivals.
Now, in university, he supposes there arenât really things like student council presidents anymore - everyone is interested in their own lives, and Markâs not entirely sure he enjoys the entire process of putting himself out there to be judged.
Itâs always been the people who made him want to do what he did, and Mark supposes that now his attention is turned to his friends. Reigning in Donghyuckâs more mischievous and unrestrained impulses, preventing Jisung from making the same naive decisions he did at twenty, or getting Jaemin to leave the house to meet his friends and not give in to his natural tendency of isolation - itâs something that he does gladly. Mark would like to think that he knows his friends well, and being the oldest makes him the best-suited to take on the responsibility.
Still, there are times when he likes letting go, not thinking and worrying so hard - most of the time itâs being alone with just his guitar. In those few hours, his brain seems to go perfectly quiet.
Other times, itâs you pulling him into a cinema at midnight, two movie tickets and a brand-new box of popcorn hugged in your arm.
When you halt your footsteps, Mark doesnât even realise until youâre standing in front of him. If he just angled his face down slightly, the tips of your noses would brush.
âDidnât you say you really wanted to watch this?â you ask, lashes fluttering, and Mark nods. âYeah.â
âThen why do you look so sad?â Youâre frowning at him, and he has the temptation to smooth out the line in your forehead with his thumb.
âIâm really happy, actually,â he murmurs, and he means it. Thereâs something about this entire thing that makes him feel more peaceful than he has in a long time. âI was just thinking.â
Thinking about you, to say the least. He didnât know he could be so comfortable with a person, that spending time felt as easy as breathing.
Thankfully, you donât question his cryptic words further, only tightening your hold on the tickets. âLetâs walk quicker then. You always complain when we miss the beginning of movies.â
You say it with the easy familiarity of someone who knows him well, and Mark laughs softly. âThatâs because you always take too long to get ready.â
âI donât!â
âYou once spent one hour trying to curl your hair, and then decided to leave it straight.â
âThat was for your cousinâs wedding. My hair needed to look decent. Besides, Iâm the only plus one you have. Who would you ask? Hyuck?â
âMaybe. Iâm sure heâd look good in a wig.â
âBut your family loves me,â you say smugly, and Mark canât give a response against that, because youâre right. Youâre practically adored by everyone, from his grandparents to even his youngest niece.
âDonât let it go to your head,â he murmurs, but you only grin. âCanât help it.â
Eventually, you finally reach the doors of the cinema hall, and Mark pushes the door open, a cold gust of air-conditioning hitting the both of you directly as you make your way down to the seats.
When you shiver, he looks at you disapprovingly. âI thought I told you to wear something warm.â
âA long-sleeved shirt is warm,â you protest, and he huffs, but shrugs off his denim jacket anyways.
âTake it. If you get a flu, I have to take care of you.â
âThank you,â you say sweetly, quickly wearing it on. âBesides, you owe me one for that time you got stomach flu.â
Mark shivers at the very mention of it. Almost six months ago, and yet he still remembers barely being able to get out of bed. That week, you had come home immediately each time your lectures ended, searching up different websites for recipes that wouldn't upset his stomach. Porridge, soups, stews - Mark was pretty sure you had cycled through hundreds of different ingredients, and blew a complete hole in your allowance deliberately only buying organic, but you resolutely refused to tell him about it until he found you eating instant ramen the next month.
It was equal parts frustrating and endearing - the way you wouldnât tell anyone about your problems, until you were pestered endlessly. Not so different from him, he supposed, though you took it to an even greater degree.
âMark, I can hear you thinking. Stop and watch the movie,â you chide, grabbing his upturned palm and placing a handful of popcorn on it.
He turns to see you, profile lit against the bright lights of the screen, as you laugh at some advertisement being shown, eyes bright despite the late hour, and Mark thinks this might become one of his favourite memories with you.
And it does, even when you fall asleep in the car four hours later and he has to carry you up, your arms slung around his neck.
Mark Lee is showering when he hears a scream.
Itâs shrill enough to make him turn off the water, the steam clearing until he sees his own reflection in the glass.
âY/N? You good?â He asks it loud enough for you to hear, but there isnât a response.
Youâre not a jumpy person, and while you would probably be alright if he just continued his shower, a what if of worry has Mark wrapping a towel around his waist and opening the door.
However, youâre nowhere to be seen in the hallway, and Mark moves to the living room, seeing you backfacing him, a spoon still in your hands and your posture unnaturally defensive.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asks, and you turn, an expression of abject horror etched on your features.
âThereâs a cockroach somewhere. I saw it on the floor, and itâs gone now,â you say in a rush, and Mark laughs.
âDonât laugh! This is serious,â you say to him, and your roommate only shakes his head. Heâs aware of your fear of bugs, though, which is why he takes the spoon from your hands and steers you towards the hallway.
âIf youâre that scared, go to your room. Iâll catch it later.â
You nod in agreement. âYou still have shampoo in your hair, by the way,â you point out, and he rolls his eyes.
âYeah, because someone screamed so loud that I thought there was a murderer in our apartment.â
âI think I would have a better chance of surviving anyways,â you bite back, and Mark glances doubtfully at the spoon in your hand, and then back at you.
âSure, Y/N.â
You wave him off. âEnjoy your shower.â
However, right as Mark places his hand on the door handle, thereâs another shriek. He spots the cockroach first, scuttling across the floor, before he sees you barrelling towards him.
âOh my god!â you shout as you run towards Mark, and his arms reflexively open as you hug him tightly in fear - not entirely registering the fact that he is still very much half-naked.
Youâre gripping onto him tightly, face buried into the crook of his neck, and itâs a few seconds before Mark realizes the proximity of your position, every inch of your body warm against his bare skin.
Itâs enough to make the tips of his ears flush scarlet, and Mark canât hear anything other than the aggressive beating of his heart.
âUm, Y/N-â he makes an attempt to start, patting you on the shoulder gently. âLet me go.â
You seem to realise it at the same time he does, quickly stepping back, eyes wide. âShit, sorry.â
Mark lets out a laugh, even though it comes out choked. âItâs okay. Just- Iâll shower and come right back out, okay?â
âYeah. Thatâs a good idea,â you stutter out, all thoughts of the insect forgotten as you backtrack hastily into your room, quickly shutting the door behind you.
Mark stares blankly at the oak wood of your bedroom door, before blinking to clear his head. âJesus,â he mutters, wondering what the hell just happened.
His body feels warm all over, almost like heâs having a fever, and itâs like he can still feel the sensation of your palms flat against his lower back, your breath tickling the space between his neck and shoulder.
And when he sees his reflection in the mirror, there are two spots of bright red on his cheeks.
Everything returns to normal after that.
Well, almost.
Other than the fact that Mark canât seem to stop thinking about you.
Itâs bad enough that as his roommate and best friend, you already take up a decently large space of his brain - whether itâs worrying about when youâll get home once itâs past midnight, or messaging you to ask if you want takeout.
But something about this is a hundred times worse.
Because just the sight of you is enough to have blood rushing to his face, his head darting down to avoid your gaze.
And Mark feels stupid. For Godâs sake, heâs not some teenage boy - heâs already twenty-three, and yet heâs acting like a twelve-year-old who just held hands with a girl for the first time.
Heâs shared a bed with you. Heâs watched you cry after you failed your first exam, tears and snot balled up into countless tissues and filling up the little trashbin in your room. At some point, he had helped to clean up your vomit when you got a bad case of food poisoning.
To be fair, that was because the pancakes he made for breakfast were only half-cooked, so it was sort of his responsibility.
But the fact remains that Markâs done hundreds of things with you, and spent countless hours by your side - all of which have allowed him to function normally without feeling like his heart is about to combust.
But now, he canât even sit next to you without his words turning into stuttering chunks of speech.
It doesnât help that youâre also naturally affectionate, a habit that you picked up from Donghyuck, of all people, and each time you slide your arm into his or wrap a hand around his waist is enough to have his brain short-circuit.
Deep down, Mark has an inkling why heâs like this.
He just really hopes it isnât true.
Itâs not something heâs told anyone, not Chenle, not Renjun, not even Hyuck, who practically knows all of Markâs deepest, darkest secrets.
That for a minuscule, short duration of three months, Mark had a crush on you. The pretty girl who he collided directly into on the very first day.
There were times when he wondered if the coffee trips could be labelled dates, or if it was a figment of his hyperactive imagination and racing heart. And as the both of you got closer, Mark always teetered between the temptation of trying to ask you out and the fear that he still didnât know you that well.
Until the both of you got too close as friends, and it was more comfortable to simply stay within the boundaries of friendship. And eventually, Mark put it behind him, seeing those three initial months as nothing more but a simple infatuation that preceded his friendship with you.
And it wasnât like you had expressed a lot of interest in him either, occasionally complaining to Mark about dates you went on or the newest eye candy that you had seen on campus.
So he let it go, and Mark thought he could be perfectly happy like this.
Until last week, when he was returned to freshman year.
Since then, Mark has been avoiding you with the excuse of coursework, partly for the own good of his heart and also because he doesnât want to throw you off with his sudden, odd behaviour.
But you know him a little too well, which means that when Friday comes, youâre banging on his bedroom door.
âMark Lee, I know youâre done with your coursework. Let me in,â you demand, and the man gulps nervously, wishing that heâd bought those noise-cancelling headphones so he could at least use them as an excuse.
He sidles towards the door reluctantly, feet dragging even as little pinpricks of excitement jab at his heart - a sensation heâs quickly come to associate with you.
âHey. Um, you need anything?â he asks, voice tight with nervousness.
âI need to know why my best friendâs avoiding me like the plague,â you say without hesitating, slipping in through the small space between his body and the door before he can kick you out.
âiâm not avoiding you. Iâm just really busy,â Mark lies. âLike, with school and stuff.â
God, it sounds bad even to his ears.
âI hope you know I didnât believe that for a second,â you say, walking to his desk and looking directly at his completely-shut laptop.
âI-â Markâs throat feels dry as you abruptly turn towards him, cutting across the room and facing him directly, hands squared on your hips as you tilt your head.
âDid you commit a crime? I know how to hide a body, you know.â
ââŚNo?â
âForgot to pay rent? Left the stove on? Or-â
âItâs none of that!â He says, hands instinctively reaching for your shoulders to halt you from listing any other potential transgressions he might have made.
And when you meet his eyes again, you look properly frustrated, before you seem to sink slightly, voice turning a little softer.
âDid I do somethingâŚwrong? You can tell me, you know.â You blink up at him slowly, and Markâs heart feels bittersweet as he sees the slight worry in your gaze.
âNo. Of course not.â Guilt rises in his stomach - of course his standoffish behaviour would make you think the worst. ââItâs none of that.â
Mark wishes that he could kick his feelings to the side and shove them far down, if only to make the doubt in your features go away. Considering that itâs you he has these feelings for, however, makes the task seem near impossible, but Mark thinks it doesnât hurt to try.
So he smiles, bright enough to make you relax a little. âItâs really just school. I realised I actually need to do well to graduate, and I didnât want my stress to get to you.â
At his words, your eyes glaze over with a familiar, warm empathy, and Mark tries not to let his relief become too palpable. âI get it. But, Mark-â
âHm?â
âYou can come to me for these sorts of things, you know? When youâre stressed. I want to be that person for you.â
What youâre saying is simple- expected, even, considering the nature of your relationship with him, but it still knocks the breath out of Mark.
Heâs loved by you. That much is clear, even if itâs not exactly in the way he so desperately wishes to be loved by you. But even this is enough.
âOkay. Yeah, I will,â he promises, realising that he doesnât hate the bittersweet feeling in his heart that is already so closely associated with you - not when itâs constantly soothed by the quiet happiness of having you by his side.
âSee, that wasnât so hard, was it?â You loop your arm in his, pulling him out of the room. âSince thatâs resolved, no more hiding in your room.â
âBut-â
âNo buts. We study here from now on. youâre not the only one with exams, you know,â you say as you bring your books and laptop out, scattering them across the dining table.
Mark can tell when youâve set your mind on something, and so he doesnât resist, placing his own things opposite you and welcoming it when you smile in approval.
For a while, he sits there blankly - he wasnât even studying in the first place, after all, and heâs already well-prepared for his technical exam next week, but heâs pulled out of his thoughts when you call his name expectantly.
Youâve already made yourself comfortable by the window, your headphones resting snugly around your ears as you tilt your head at him, eyes bright.
You look pretty, as always.
But Markâs almost-adoring gaze is left unnoticed by you as you frown at him. Study, you mouth, picking up your textbook and pointing to it for emphasis in a way that makes a laugh bubble out his chest.
Itâs cute. Youâre cute.
If he doesnât do as you say, however, Markâs cover will genuinely be busted, and so the man genuinely tries to immerse himself in revision for his readings as best as he can.
And if he occasionally sneaks glances just to admire you in the golden glow of dusk that spills through the window - well, it didnât happen if you didnât catch him, did it?
Youâre standing in the kitchen when you hear Markâs bedroom door open, and a soft yawn from the hallway.
âMorning. I made toast, and Chenle gave us a new bottle of jam the other day,â you say, pushing a plate across the counter.
âThanks,â he says, voice still rough from sleep and eyes only half-open as he munches absentmindedly at the first piece of bread he picks up.
Heâs always the sleepiest on Thursday mornings, mainly because the lectures are first thing in the morning and on the furthest side of the campus. And considering how much of a night owl Mark is, waking up anytime before ten is practically punishment for him.
Meanwhile, youâre perfectly chirpy, already having gotten your first coffee of the day down and your usual omelette slowly cooking away in the pan.
âYou know, Donghyuck suggested doing a trip during winter break,â you say, and Mark hums in agreement, thinking it over. âTo where?â
âOut of the city. Maybe to the beach. I think it would be fun.â
âAre you going to plan it, then?â he asks, and you nod excitedly. Youâve always had a penchant for travelling, and maybe itâs because of your course in early education - youâre already used to organizing different programmes.
âI was thinking we would do a barbecue, and then maybe just some games and karaoke. Though Iâm sure some of the guys want to go biking, and I think Yeji mentioned doing a pottery class or checking out local markets.â You ramble out all your ideas in a rush, but Mark only nods at your every word.
âIâm sure we can figure something out.â
âWe just need to find a house big enough for all twelve of us- ouch!â Your sentence is cut off by a sharp exclamation of pain as you pull your hand back, an unsightly red patch already forming on the area between your index and thumb.
You hadnât even realised you had gotten that close to the stove when you turned around to speak to Mark. Itâs not your first time getting burned - you had accidentally brushed your arm against the top of your oven when you were sixteen, but the pain is enough to make you wince in alarm.
Still, itâs tolerable as you rush to the sink and turn on the cold water, Mark materializing by your side within seconds.
âYou okay?â he asks, now fully-awake as he grabs your wrist, turning it over gently to inspect the injury.
âYeah.â You shake your head. âSmall mistake. Iâll manage it.â
You turn off the tap, planning to get some ice, but Markâs faster than you. âTake this. Iâll get the antiseptic cream.â
âI can handle it. You should get ready for class,â you urge, but he shakes his head, already disappearing down the hallway.
When he reappears, the small white tube is in his hands, and Mark motions for you to place your hand in his. âThis might hurt a little,â he murmurs, blinking up at you through his lashes, and you nod.
âWouldnât have thought.â
You donât get to make another wisecrack, however, the moment his thumb brushes over the wound. Markâs gentle, dabbing at it as softly as possible, but your breathing still tightens.
Eventually, the sting gets a little more bearable, and you watch as the reddish patch fades to a less angry tone. âDone,â Mark says, quickly smoothing a plaster over it. âDonât let it get near water, and donât let it get dirty.â
âGot it, dad.â He rolls his eyes at that and you nudge his shoulder. âYou really should go for class now.â
âAre you sure youâll be alright?â he asks, eyes wide, and the concern thatâs evident in Markâs eyes makes your heart flutter warmly. âItâs just a burn, Mark. The next time I break my leg, Iâll make you carry me around for a month.â
He frowns. âDonât say that. I donât want you to break a leg.â
âIâll be careful, I promise. Look, if youâre that worried-â you stretch your hand out to him, palm facing the ceiling as you grin. â-you can kiss it better.â
The request is a teasing one, one that you expect to turn Mark the colour of a tomato - after all, heâs made shy easily, and always embarrassed at things like this.
Yet, what you donât expect is the immediate feeling of the boyâs lips against your skin, no hesitation on his part as he places the gentlest of kisses at the corner between your thumb and your index.
You freeze. Thereâs no way Mark just did that.
Thereâs no way the same person who would shove you away when you attempted to place a kiss on his cheek, nervously sputtering, or the one who jerked away the first time you tried to hug him, is now smiling up at you in a way that could be seen as almost cocky, eyes blinking innocently up at you.
âBetter?â he asks lowly, placing another kiss for emphasis in a way that makes your heart go haywire.
Your throat feels dry when you make an attempt to reply to him. âYeah. All better,â you force out, quickly retracting your hand and shoving it into the pocket of your sweatpants. Far away from boys who think itâs a good idea to kiss it and make your mind go blank.
âWell, Iâm going, then,â he says, now finally having the familiar lopsided grin that youâre used to - despite that, however, your heart lurches with fondness as you watch him grab his bag and hoodie before waving at you.
âBye,â you exhale out, hands unconsciously finding the cool marble of the countertop in a quest for stability, until the door finally shuts.
Youâre faced with an empty hallway, finally, as you attempt to process the events of the past fifteen minutes, the pain of the burn now an afterthought.
What the fuck just happened?
Mark thinks he might be going insane.
Completely, veritably insane.
Kissing your hand was an impulse decision - mainly because he wanted to get back at you for making those flirtatious remarks all the damn time without any idea of how they messed with his head.
But part of it was also because you had asked so sweetly, and Mark found himself quite incapable of refusing you. And the two spots of pink that had dusted your cheeks after were worth it.
However, it seems that heâs suffering much more than you are - what with the events of the past week. Itâs as if he canât help but notice the smallest, most insignificant things about you, that are enough to make him fall a little deeper, a little further down to where itâs harder to get out.
Like how you hum to yourself when you water the plants on the windowsill, and itâs always that one song - the one that your dad played for you as a kid, and which you added into Markâs playlist without him knowing. Or how Mark always leaves his guitar all over the house, but you make sure to return it to its usual spot next to his bed.
Even worse, youâre always leaning your head on his shoulder, or reaching out to fiddle with the strings of his hoodie. It feels good being close to you - Mark loves it, in fact, but it also makes him terribly nervous in a way that makes him stiffen awkwardly whenever you brush a little too close to him.
Now, however, Mark realises he might be the one on the losing end as he sits in his Structural Analysis lecture and wonders what it would be like to actually kiss you.
His pen is spinning in his hands - he hasnât written down a single thing in the past thirty minutes, and Mr Leeâs already sending him suspicious glances from across the room, but Mark has mostly been a model student for the past two years, which is why he supposes his lecturer bites his tongue.
Still, he canât keep going like this. Not when he feels like his heart is constantly about to burst out of his chest, and he has to physically stop himself from spinning you by the waist and planting his lips firmly on yours.
Of course, heâd never do that unless you gave any indication that you wanted it, but itâs hard. Itâs hard to have you so close and yet completely out of Markâs reach.
As a child, he would stand at the seashore, feet half-buried in the sand as he looked out to the glittering blue expanse of sea, and the horizon that lay beyond. There was always something about the warm orange hues and pink streaks that took his breath away, so beautiful that he wanted to swim towards it endlessly.
Youâre his horizon now, a thousand gorgeous sunsets contained in a single person and enough to make Mark feel like heâs living and dying all at once.
The next week, youâre sitting on the couch scrolling on your phone when Markâs footsteps alert you to his presence.
Right as you lift your head to see him, however, you frown. âWhy are you dressed like that?â
âLike what?â
âLikeâŚyouâre going to work out. Or something,â you reply, giving him a once-over. Joggers, a dry-fit shirt and track shoes, complete with a water bottle in his hands - somethingâs definitely up.
âThatâs because I am,â he answers, an amused tilt of his lips evident as he takes in the surprise on your face.
âNo way. I tried getting you to do that fitness program in freshman year, and you said youâd rather die than exercise.â
âThat was because I canât do yoga for shit. Iâm going to the gym with Jeno today.â
At the mention of the other boy, you nod, slowly processing the information. It makes sense that Jeno would drag him to the gym, considering the boy has long made a habit of it with Jaemin. But still, the fact that Mark agreed makes you narrow your eyes.
âWhy the sudden interest, though?â you ask, turning over to rest your head on the couch and stretch out your legs.
Mark only shrugs, slinging his towel over his shoulder. âFinally found the time. Besides, seniors get free access. If you didnât notice, Iâve been going with Jeno since the start of the year.â
Itâs currently June, which means six months. Though itâs likely that you probably couldnât make the distinction between when he was going to the gym or lessons, because Mark perpetually lived in sweatpants and a hoodie.
âFair enough. Have fun,â you call, tugging a pillow to hug to your body as you find a new social media site to scroll through.
However, you find your eyes drifting to Mark as he fills his bottle at the sink, carefully scrutinising your best friend for any evident changes.
You suppose his shoulders have broadened considerably since freshman year, jawline a little more defined than the round-cheeked boy you first met. Nothing out of the ordinary - plenty of the same changes had happened to the other boys, and it wasnât as if you hadnât made changes to your own appearance over the many years.
However, Markâs usually dressed in the baggiest of sweaters and hoodies, only changing into a fitted shirt today due to the warm summer weather, and your cheeks redden when you find your eyes drifting to the way the muscles in his back stretch when he reaches for something on the upper shelf, a faint line appearing on his forearms as he unscrews the cap and adds his vitamins inside.
He looks good. Better than he should. You donât even realize youâre shamelessly ogling your best friend until he looks up at you, eyes directly meeting yours in a way that makes you jump.
âEverything okay?â he asks, and you nod slowly, forcing your eyes away from anything but the way his collarbones peek out from beneath his shirt.
This is Mark. Your roommate, who you most definitely shouldnât stare at in a borderline-creepy way. no matter how attractive he may seem.
Thankfully, you regain your senses quickly enough, darting your head back down until itâs half-veiled by the pillow. âGet a grip, Y/N,â you mutter to yourself.
âWell, Iâm gonna go,â Mark calls, and you physically stop yourself from looking up, instead choosing to extend your arm upwards to wave.
âBye! Go!â you say with no little urgency, sensing Markâs palpable confusion from your bizarre confusion a few metres away.
Nevertheless, he grabs his things, the door eventually closing shut.
Itâs halfway through his last set that Jeno appears above Mark, a bottle of ice-cold water in his hands.
âThanks,â he says as he sits up from the bench press, quickly taking a large gulp. âWhat are you doing after this?â
âGiselle asked me to grab dinner with her.â
At his words, Mark grins, nudging Jenoâs knee. âDo the both of you have something going on?â
Jeno only huffs, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. âWeâre just friends. Donât overthink it. You and Y/N, on the other handâŚâ
The mention of your name is enough to make Mark cough awkwardly, gaze darting away. And while Jeno doesnât say anything, itâs Jaemin whoâs perceptive as ever, a teasing smile on his face as he meets Markâs nervous gaze.
âOut with it. Whatâs up with the both of you?â he asks curiously.
âUm,â Mark coughs, swiping off the beads of sweat that seem to have mysteriously materialized at his temples. âNothing.â
Itâs as honest of a reply that he can give, because there really isnât much for Mark to say. While Mark freaks out inside each time you say something, life seems to be going on normally for you.
Jeno hums. âDoesnât seem like nothing.â
Frustration bubbles up in Mark at those words, though itâs not directed at Jaemin or Jeno, but instead at himself.
âI mean, I like her-â
âI knew it,â Jaemin declares, crossing his arms over his chest. âTook you long enough.â
Mark leans back, chuckling softly. âJust realised it myself a few days ago, honestly.â
It wasnât as if Mark hadnât had a crush on anyone before - rather, it was that being with you felt slightly different from the rest. The butterflies aside, there was something else that tugged at the pit of his stomach each time he thought about you. It was akin to the split-second adrenaline he felt on top of rollercoasters, just before it came tumbling straight down.
And he wasnât sure what to make of that. Mark thought a better word to describe his affection for you was yearning, rather than just a simple like. Like didnât seem to quite explain how being in your presence never quite tired him out, how you were the one person that Mark didnât need a social battery for. He was simply so used to you at this point, that having you around felt natural, felt right.
âHeâs definitely in love. Look at him,â Jaemin whispers to his dormmate, just out of Markâs earshot. Jenoâs eyes only crinkle slightly, as he shakes his head. âDoesnât matter if he wonât do anything about it.â
The first time someone called Donghyuck a himbo was sophomore year.
He had sat next to Shin Ryujin, hungover from the night before, and it took him a full fifteen minutes to realise that he did indeed have an assignment due that day, one which his professor was currently collecting.
Naturally, he did what any desperate student would do - he turned to Ryujin and asked very nicely if he could borrow her work, to which she had only ignored him and turned back to her own laptop.
âItâs a creative assignment. Mrs Parkâs not going to scroll through two identical assignments without busting your ass.â
âI could change some of the grammar,â Donghyuck offers helpfully, but the glare that she flashes him makes him shrink back.
âJust ask her for an extension.â
âIâm scared.â
âYouâre already known as the campus himbo. What do you have to be scared of?â
âA himbo?â Donghyuck tilts his head. He hasnât heard anyone describe him as a himbo yet, though heâs received things like idiot, annoying asshole, dumbass motherfu- most of them from Mark, but he doesnât quite mention that to Shin Ryujin.
âIt means youâre pretty to look at, but youâve got nothing inside your head.â
Donghyuck grins. âYou think Iâm pretty?â he asks, batting his eyelashes for dramatic effect, and Ryujin rolls her eyes. âEven if you were pretty, your personality ruins it.â
âHey!â
âIâm right, Donghyuck. Youâre a daily reminder to me why Iâm better off liking women,â she shoots, and he feels genuinely wounded at that.
âYou just like women because you think Yejiâs pretty-â Donghyuckâs voice is muffled by Ryujinâs hand over his mouth, her gaze wide with alarm.
âSheâs right there, Donghyuck. Mouth shut, or Iâll kill you,â she whispers harshly, eyes darting nervously to the girl sheâs had a not-so-secret crush on for the longest time, before turning back to Donghyuck, who nods obediently.
âYou should just tell her,â he advises, and Ryujin purses her lips, before shaking her head. âNo. For one, Iâm not sure if she likes women at all, and two - even if she did, I might not be her type.â
âWell, you can try.â
âAnd get rejected? No thanks,â she replies, closing the tabs on her laptop. âBesides, you shouldnât been giving me advice. You would barely know if someone liked you back.â
Donghyuck supposes Ryujin was right then - heâs quite oblivious to cues, and God knows the number of girls that have confessed to him while he blinked at them cluelessly. Itâs not his fault that heâs on the affectionate side, and Donghyuck is affectionate with everyone.
But now, this is different. This doesnât involve him, and Donghyuck would like to think that heâs at least quite perceptive to a shift in two of his closest friends.
It doesnât take him long to figure out why exactly Mark seems so skittish in your presence, or why you seem so tightly wound-up, like a spring about to snap.
The both of you have the largest, most embarrassing crushes on each other, and are somehow simultaneously oblivious to it.
And so, like every other normal, rational person, Donghyuck invites everyone except you and Mark to lunch to discuss his findings.
âWhat the fuck?â Renjunâs the first one to say something, staring at Donghyuck as if heâs grown a second head.
âLook, just trust me on this-â
âAre you sure about this?â Jaemin asks, taking a large sip of his drink, and Donghyuck nods earnestly, a serious expression on his face. âA hundred percent.â
âTo be fair to him, we did all think they were going to date in the first year. I guess itâs finally happening.â
âMen and women can have platonic relationships, you know. Just because you have never enjoyed female friendship in your life doesnât mean itâs impossible,â Ryujin points out to Jeno, who rolls his eyes.
âYou thought they were dating too, Shin.â
âFine,â she acquiesces, finally turning to Donghyuck and staring him down in a way that makes the male have to consciously bite back a shiver. âWhat do you plan to do about it?â
âThatâs why I called you guys here.â
âYou want us to help you figure out how to get your two best friends together?â
âTheyâre your friends too!â
âI say we lock them in a room until they kiss,â Chenle says, and like clockwork, Jisung turns to him, a look of horror on his face. âYou canât do that to people!â
But Chenleâs not looking at his best friend - no, heâs looking at Donghyuck, a silent challenge in his gaze.
Itâs only then that Donghyuck sits up, posture changing enough to draw the eyes of everyone at the table - Karina, Yeji, Ryujin, Jeno, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin and Renjun.
âYou know what?â he says, a mischievous smile curling at the corner of his lips. âI donât think thatâs a bad idea.â
Youâre halfway through your work when you hear a few rapid knocks at the door.
âComing!â you shout, frowning - Markâs out late tonight.
Until you look through the peephole, and youâre greeted by the sight of Jaeminâs face. âOh, hey,â you say as you open the door. âWhat are you doing here?â
âIâm not sure, honestly. I brought them, though.â He points his arm, and you turn, eyes widening.
âHe helped with directions,â Donghyuck explains, already shrugging off his shoes and letting himself into your apartment.
âWhat- whyâs everyone here today?â You naturally move to the side as all eight of them slowly amble in, completely bewildered.
âImpromptu party. Jenoâs boss gave him some free pizza delivery vouchers,â Yeji explains, smiling sweetly at you, and despite the suddenness of it, you canât quite say no - you do miss having them around, and you can probably catch up on your work over the weekend.
âOkay. Mark wonât be back till nine, though.â At your words, there seems to be a general sense of amusement rising from everyone else, which is only enough to confuse you further.
However, youâre grateful for their appearance. You donât think you could last another movie night with Mark without doing something extremely, extremely stupid.
At eight, Mark reaches his front door, only for it to be opened before he can even reach for his keys.
And instead of you, thereâs Jisung, who only waves. âHi, hyung.â
âWhat are you doing here?â Mark asks, until he hears the sound of commotion inside - thereâs music playing, and Donghyuck trying to explain something loudly before your laughter cuts through.
âJeno bought all of us pizza. You should be hungry,â Jisung says, smiling, and Mark only follows the younger boy inside, greeted by the sight of everyone else scattered across the living room floor.
âMark!â Jaemin shouts excitedly, and he realises the boy is already half-drunk as he motions to the multiple pizza boxes. âTake as much as you want. Canât finish.â
And as Mark grabs the pizza and makes his way over to where youâre seated by the couch, you smile up at him in a way that makes it impossible for him to grin back. âYouâre here,â you say softly, cheeks already slightly reddened by the alcohol.
He laughs slightly. âAre you drunk already?â
You shake your head. âI only drank a little.â You pinch your fingers together for emphasis.
âOkay. Go easy on it,â he says, and you pout slightly. âGot it.â
âSince Markâs here already, we should all play a game,â Chenle suggests, and Mark looks up, eyes widening when he sees everyone nod. âSuddenly?â
âHow about truth or dare?â Ryujin asks.
âNo, thatâs too boring. Wait, Mark, come here,â Donghyuck says from the opposite side of the room, pushing Jisung slightly to make space for him in the middle, but Mark shakes his head.
âIâm okay here.â Besides, he wants to make sure you donât drink as much.
âJust come here. Yeji has something she needs to tell Y/N.â At that, Mark turns to the black-haired girl, a suspicious glance in his eyes.
âOh yeah, totally,â she says, grinning back, and motions for Mark to move. âGirls only, Mark. I know youâre Y/Nâs best friend, but some exceptions canât be made.â
Everyoneâs waiting, which means Mark eventually rises from where heâs standing. âOkay. Make sure she doesnât drink too much, okay?â he asks, and she nods.
When Markâs finally cross-legged on the floor, Donghyuck clasps his hands together, a grin on his face. âLetâs do seven minutes in heaven. Jeno, spin that bottle.â
Mark turns to his best friend, nudging him. âWhat are we, in high school?â
âWeâre not, which is why I wanna play this. Also, everyone here at least knows each other. so itâs more fun.â
Thereâs silence in the room as the soju bottle spins in slow rounds, before it finally drifts to a stop - one that has Donghyuck giggling and Ryujinâs cheeks reddening.
âRyujin and Yeji. First room on the right, now,â he instructs, and the two girls rise, disappearing down the hallway and already lost in their own conversation.
âNext one. I wanna spin this,â Chenle says, exchanging an odd, knowing sort of look with Hyuck, who only motions for him to go ahead.
Markâs honestly only half-focused on the game, more worried about heâs going to clean up later and whether any of them will be staying over. Eventually, however, his gaze drifts to the floor, watching as the bottle comes to a perfect stop.
Facing you directly.
Yejiâs gone and youâre the only one sitting on the right side of the couch, which makes you the obvious choice.
The other side is a little more ambiguous, however. Itâs between him and Hyuck, who looks a little too excited. âWell, so whoâs going to go with me?â you ask, and everyone else seems to be unsure of what to say.
âI mean, I donât mind,â Donghyuck says teasingly, winking at you in a way that makes Mark stiffen.
Thereâs no way Hyuck likes you, right? That all this was just some sort of grand, elaborated scheme to get closer to you-
You fell for her too, idiot, his mind immediately rattles off, and itâs enough for Mark to stand up, immediately clearing his throat. âIâll go. The empty room left is mine anyways.â
He misses the way his best friend smiles triumphantly at Chenle, immediately moving closer to you as you stand up. âSeven minutes, right?â you ask, and Hyuck nods. âNo more, no less.â
Markâs not sure why heâs strangely nervous as he follows you into the room, considering heâs pretty sure that nothing will happen anyways. After all, the both of you practically live together, and heâs no stranger to spending time alone with you.
Though, in the wake of his new feelings, even simple interactions feel difficult.
And as you lie down on the side of his bed, legs dangling off the edge, Mark regrets his decision just a little. Until you lift your head up.
âWhy are you standing there? Come here.â You pat the empty space next to you, and as if pulled by some mysterious force, he gravitates towards you, hesitantly sitting next to your knees and slowly lying down next to you.
âI wonder what Hyuck would say if he found us like this,â you say, and despite himself, Mark laughs. âWe would get scolded.â
âHeâd probably ask us to do something, at least.â
Markâs cheeks redden as he wonders what exactly you mean by something, and heâs not sure if your straightforwardness is partly due to the alcohol. âLike what?â
âI donât know. Kiss, probably.â
He sucks in a breath, turning to you. But your profile remains sideways, eyes fixed on the ceiling. And heâs not sure where he finds the words, but Markâs voice is strained the next time he speaks, tight with desire and fear.
âDo you- do you want to?â
You turn to him, pretty irises deep enough for Mark to willingly, gladly drown in.
God, youâre gorgeous. Heâs so painfully in love with you that it almost hurts to breathe, little pinpricks of affection stabbing at what space remaining in his heart thatâs still left untaken by you.
âI wouldnât mind, I think,â you murmur, blinking sleepily at him as you shuffle a little bit closer, until your headâs resting against his chest, and Mark wonders if you can hear his heartbeat going faster than it ever has.
You wouldnât mind kissing him. Itâs not a direct expression of want, but if youâre amenable to the idea, thatâs already more than he could ever expect.
Youâre so close, and you smell so good, like that vanilla and cinnamon shampoo that you always use, and if he just tilted your head a little higher - he would have everything that heâs dreaming of.
But youâre drunk, and heâs not entirely sober either, which means bad decisions are likely to be made. When Mark kisses you, he wants it to be when both of you are fully awake, so he can remember every single moment of it.
And the feeling of you resting against him, eyes closed and breathing even, isnât so bad either - itâs sweet, providing him with the knowledge that you feel safe enough to be your most vulnerable around him, because Mark just wants to protect you and love you in all the ways that he can. If youâll let him.
And thatâs how Donghyuck finds him when he cracks open the bedroom door, Mark immediately bringing a finger to his lips to keep his volume down.
âUm, Iâll tell everyone to clean up and leave. You can stay with Y/N,â Hyuck murmurs, and Markâs grateful for the sensibility that his best friend does have, after all.
Itâs about twenty minutes later that he finally hears the front door swing shut, and the house finally falls into some much-needed silence.
âY/N,â he whispers softly, hoping to wake you up without startling you. âDarling, youâll be uncomfortable if you sleep like this.â
Heâs not sure where the pet name slips out from, but it comes out surprisingly easily. And while Mark would be perfectly happy to stay in this position, itâs likely going to give you a poor neck tomorrow.
Thankfully, you seem to hear him, mumbling something incoherent as you slowly sit up, still drowsy as he leads you to the bed. You find the pillow quickly, and he breathes out a sigh of relief when you seem to sink back into your slumber.
âGood night, Y/N,â he mumbles tenderly, a hand brushing over your forehead.
And when he finally lies down on the other side, blanket thrown over the both of you, Mark wills sleep to find him quickly. Thereâs too much on his mind tonight.
At some point, however, you shift, turning your body to face him and making his breathing hitch.
Youâre always so damn close.
And then you say something again under your breath, soft enough for Mark to have to lean closer until your lips are right by his ear.
âY/N? Do you need something?â Itâs obvious youâre still asleep, maybe stuck in a dream of sorts as you furrow your eyebrows.
When you speak next, however, itâs loud enough for Mark to hear every syllable.
âYou donât want to kiss me,â you breathe out, an expression of distress making its way onto your features. âWhy not?â Your lips soften into a pout that makes his heart seize, and Markâs eyes widen.
Are you talking about him? From earlier?
Heâs frozen now, fingers ghosting over your waist as he wonders how to react.
Eventually, Mark allows himself to press a tender kiss to your forehead, smoothing out the slight furrow there as he brushes his thumb over your cheek.
The bed, even the entire room, suddenly feels a little too small, and a little too warm as Mark keeps looking at you, wondering exactly what this means for him, you, and your friendship.
If everything heâs ever wanted is a mistake, and whether youâd make it with him. Because he doesnât think any mistake should feel this right.
When you wake up the next morning, you canât exactly distinguish between what was part of your dream, and what was actually a hazy recollection.
And neither is Mark present to confirm your doubts. Itâs like heâs disappeared off the face of the earth - well, probably just the campus.
Still, when you see an empty bed, the sheets on the side flat and crinkled, thereâs a yearning in your heart that you canât quite place. You swing your feet over the edge, your head still vaguely throbbing from the alcohol as you try to distinguish reality from your own eager imagination.
You like Mark. That much is easy enough to figure out, if the way you clung to him last night was any indication. You faintly remember him persuading you to go to bed, and tugging a sweater over your shirt.
And then you had turned over - heart racing in your chest as you voluntarily moved closer to him, seeking his warmth and relaxing when he didnât pull away.
His bed smelled a lot like him, all fresh cotton and fabric softener. A familiar scent that you had grown used to over the years, from stealing his jackets to hugging him whenever he pulled you close, your head nestled into the crook of his shoulder.
Youâre conflicted as you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, fingers curling into the material of the sweater as if itâll make up for the ownerâs absence.
Maybe he liked you. Maybe he didnât. You would get some answers once he came back, at least.
Unfortunately, youâre in the middle of brushing your teeth when you hear the front door unlock, and you suppose the universe has other plans for you as you shuffle out into the living room.
And as if you still needed the reminder, your pulse speeds up at the sight of Mark in his hoodie and black glasses, plates already in his hands as he places them on the table. âHey, um, I got breakfast. Figured youâd be hungry,â he explains.
Youâre just staring at him, lingering in the hallway long enough for Mark to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. âHey, if you donât feel like eating-â
âI do.â It comes out panicked as you rush over, taking the cutlery from him and the first pastry you see. âThanks, Mark.â
âNo problem,â he says, still smiling at you as you take your first bite, occasionally meeting his eyes before your gaze darts away again.
God, this is awkward. You havenât been this awkward with him since- well, ever. Even eighteen-year-old you had no problem making conversation with him, but now youâre completely silent as the both of you share a meal.
Youâre in the middle of counting the number of cross-stitches in the tablecloth when he finally speaks.
âHowâs your head feeling?â
âItâs okay.â
âDonghyuck and the others left pretty early yesterday.â
âYeah.â
âThey cleaned up, though.â
âThatâs good.â
You can almost sense the frustration radiating off Mark at your replies, but youâre not sure what else to say to him.
Or more that youâre scared of what will come out if you do let yourself speak.
âY/N,â he murmurs, noticeably more serious now, and you gulp.
âMark.â
âCan we talk about yesterday?â he asks, gently, and you lift your head sharply, fork frozen in midair.
âWhat- what happened yesterday?â
âYou donât remember?â
âI-â you cut yourself off halfway, cheeks turning scarlet as you duck your head down to look at your own lap.
Itâs as much of a guilty admission that he needs, even as you attempt to get yourself out of the situation by standing up and pushing your chair behind you. âIâm done with my breakfast. Iâll go get ready.â
âYouâre going out?â
âI told Ryujin that I would meet her for lunch,â you lie, though you wince the moment it leaves your mouth.
For one, itâs ten in the morning, and Ryujinâs probably just as hungover as you.
You barely put your plate down in the sink before you hear Mark get up as well, and you turn your head away, cursing silently under your breath. Itâs times like this when you wish your apartment was bigger, that Mark couldnât be capable of finding you in less than two minutes.
He doesnât say anything, almost hovering as he clears his plate away too, and places the rest of the pastries in the fridge.
You canât help but notice that theyâre all your favourites, the kind of snacks that you always tell him you crave but never have conveniently at home.
The moment youâre done washing the dishes, however, you quickly dry your hands, making a beeline out of the kitchen area. If you just manage to get to your room, youâll at least be able to avoid him for a while longer.
And for a few moments, you think that Mark will let you go and leave the events of last night aside for now.
In fact, you almost make it past him and the kitchen island, before he grabs onto your wrist and yanks you back.
âWhat-â You tilt your head up sharply in shock, freezing when you realize exactly how close the both of you are. The tip of his nose is barely centimetres away from yours, and your lack of balance has you almost leaning fully into him, the weight of your body pressed up against his.
Youâre still reeling from it as you blink up at him, finding a way to get your senses back around you, even as your brain fills with empty thoughts about how he looks good up close like this, or how his lashes frame his features perfectly.
Itâs a dangerous situation. One that you need to get out of immediately.
âMark-â you start, his name coming out breathy and stilted, but the boy remains silent, lips set into a firm line as he continues looking at you, or past you, as if he's thinking of something else entirely. âLet me go?â
You move your wrist for emphasis, but in response, his grip only tightens.
âNo,â he murmurs, in a way that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.
âBut-â
Youâre cut off soon enough when he moves even closer, the distance between the both of you disappearing.
Because instead of releasing your hand, Mark only wraps his other arm around your waist to yank you closer before he plants his lips firmly on yours.
And then heâs kissing you.
Mark Lee, your best friend and roommate of four years, is kissing you in your shared apartment at ten in the morning, and you canât help but feel like this is how itâs always meant to have been.
And as you feel yourself melting into his hold, that same scent of fresh cotton enveloping you, he pulls away. Kissing shouldnât feel this good, but with him, you think the seconds could easily elapse into hours.
Youâre almost tempted to pull him by the collar back to you, but something in his eyes curbs that impulse of yours.
His hand is still resting on your waist, ghosting over the patch of bare skin between your sweatpants and top in a way that makes you shiver.
âYou asked me why I didnât want to kiss you yesterday,â he breathes out. âDoes this make up for it?â
So that wasnât a dream, at least.
You scramble to find a way to reply, still a little too distracted by the way his lips are the perfect shade of pink, the phantom feeling of them quickly fading from your memory. âI- I think so.â
He smiles at that. âYou think?â
âI could do with a refresher.â The sudden confidence that enters your voice is just as surprising to you as it is to Mark himself, but he recovers faster. The hand that was previously around your wrist snakes its way up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. âYeah?â
You nod, deciding that youâre already too far gone- you might as well get something out of it.
Like the feeling of Markâs lips against yours when he kisses you again, smiling against you in a way that makes your heart expand in the most delightful way.
When he nips at your bottom lip playfully, you let out a soft giggle, ducking your head away from his as he moves towards your cheek, and then your neck, leaving a trail of feather-soft kisses in his wake.
âThat feels nice,â you sigh out, feeling him smirk against where heâs nestled at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. âJust nice?â
âVery nice. Happy now?â You tap his shoulders to get him to raise his head, Markâs hands instinctively finding your waist.
He hums. âI suppose. What does this make us?â
And as much as he tries to pass it off nonchalantly, you hear the way his voice tapers off into doubt.
That heâs had the same fear as you for a while now, but also the exact same dream.
âDo you like me?â you ask, and Mark swipes his tongue over his lips, chuckling softly. âI thought that much was obvious.â
âWell, then I guess itâs a good thing that I like you too.â You fiddle with the drawstrings of his hoodie as Markâs eyes widen. To his credit, he looks surprised, but it only makes you laugh. âYou seriously think I would kiss you if I didnât like you?â
âWell, I wasnât sure-â his words halt when you tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek.
âI like you, Mark Lee. Even if you canât cook eggs and always mess up my laundry. And I know youâre already my best friend and roommate, but will you be willing to take up another title now?â
âWhat title?â he asks, blinking confusedly at you, and you only grin. âMy boyfriend,â you whisper into his ear, pulling back to see that familiar shade of red making its way onto his cheeks.
Eventually, he nods. âYeah. Okay. I can do that.â
But you only frown. âYou took so long to reply. Iâm starting to think you donât want it anymore.â
Mark only rolls his eyes, arms tightening their hug around your waist.
âToo bad. Thereâs no getting rid of me now.â
Funnily enough, the hardest part of being in a relationship with Mark was figuring out how to tell everyone else without being made the subject of their endless teasing for the next foreseeable few months.
Especially Donghyuck. Both you and Mark agreed that the chestnut-haired boy would be the last to find out.
Everything else was the same. The both of you always ate together, Mark often picking you up after lessons with a take-out bag already in his hands.
Except that he was now yours to kiss and hold, which was a new privilege you gladly took advantage of, especially on occasions like this.
âI say we let them find out on their own. Itâs worse if we tell them directly, like itâs some sort of big announcement,â you say, fingers absentmindedly carding their way through Markâs hair as he hugs you close to him. Youâre leaning against the couch, legs thrown over his as you rest on his lap sideways.
He only raises a bemused eyebrow. âYou donât think our relationship is a big thing?â
âWe both know thatâs not what I mean,â you mutter, swatting his shoulder. âI just think theyâve known us as best friends for so long, that itâll be weird to just suddenly drop this out of nowhere.â
âI get it. We can tell them whenever you want.â
The current position youâre in is more than comfortable, and you find yourself growing drowsy as he peppers kisses along your cheek and your shoulder.
âBut, Y/N-â he starts, and despite your sudden onset of drowsiness, you make a little noise of assent. itâs enough for Mark to hug you tighter to him, before continuing.
âYou know youâre still my best friend no matter what, right? This-â he gestures to the both of you, smiling gently, âdoesnât change anything.â
His words hit you harder than you want to let on, and you try not to make your emotions too plain your face as you lean against his shoulder, feeling his heart beat gently against his chest.
However, your words still come out slightly choked. âYeah, I know.â
âIâm quite lucky, donât you think? A best friend and a girlfriend in the same person.â
âDonghyuck wonât be happy to hear that,â you mutter, and you feel the vibrations of Markâs chest as he laughs, a loud one that you know is genuine. The very sound itself is enough to make you smile.
âThank God heâs not here, then.â
âI am, actually.â
The voice that materializes from the hallway is enough to make you jump and almost fall off Markâs lap, right as he catches you. You scramble to get off his lap, hands moving to your lap as Donghyuck walks into the living room, arms crossed.
âHow the fuck did you get in?â you ask, and Donghyuck lifts his hand up, a glint of metal twirled in his fingers. âSpare key. Mark showed me once when he was drunk off his ass.â
âAnd you didnât knock?â
âI did. Many times, actually. You two lovebirds just tuned it all out. Besides, whatâs the worst that could happen?â
âFor one, this is a private apartment.â
âI mean, if the both of you were having sex, Iâd probably hear it first and show myself out,â he shoots back nonchalantly, and your eyes widen at the same time that Mark lets out an embarrassed cough, which only makes Donghyuck let out a surprised laugh.
âHavenât gotten there yet, huh?â Heâs smirking now, looking at the both of you beneath his eyelashes in a way that makes you want to throttle him.
âLetâs- letâs talk about something else,â you mutter, and Donghyuck shrugs. âSure. I came here to tell you guys that weâve settled everything for the winter break trip. We leave in four days, once semester ends.â
âYou came all the way here just for that?â you ask suspiciously, and the boy smiles as if heâs been caught.
âUm, I havenât had lunch. Also, I donât have any beach shorts, and Mark has a few he can lend.â
You nod, before narrowing your eyes. âYouâre not going to tell the rest, right?â
âNot yet. But only because I want to see their reactions when I do,â Donghyuck replies, and you huff under your breath. Itâs good enough for now.
âThen sit down. And help me prep the ingredients for lunch.â At your words, Donghyuck immediately straightens into a mock salute. âGot it.â
The gesture makes you laugh slightly as you go to the fridge, setting out everything on the counter. But Donghyuck seems to be deep in thought, almost orbiting around you.
After a while, however, he eventually opens his mouth, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.
ââŚSo you guys really havenât fucked?â
âShut it, Donghyuck.â
âI didnât even mean to kiss him!â Yeji shouts, sitting up in her chair to defend herself. âThe alcohol made him seem a lot more good-looking than he actually was.â
Karina only laughs behind her cup. âYou just have shit taste in men.â
âWhich is why I have a girlfriend now,â she says, grinning widely as she grabs Ryujinâs hand. The latter only rolls her eyes.
The eleven of you are gathered around a campfire, blankets bundled over your laps as you take turns dangling marshmallows over the fire. You canât even remember whose idea it was to come down to the coast to escape winter for a few weeks, but as the sea breeze blows through your hair, youâre grateful for it.
âThis is nice,â Chenle says, resting his feet on a stool as he leans back, sunglasses over his eyes.
âSays the one who refused to leave the house at first,â Donghyuck snides, earning an elbow in the side.
âCan the both of you just stop bickering for one second?â Jaemin says from across the circle, exasperated. âLetâs talk about something else.â
âWell, if you want to hear about more idiots that Yeji has kissed while drunk-â Karinaâs offer is cut off by the aforementioned girl kicking her in the shin, cheeks bright with mortification.
âIâm one of those idiots, unfortunately,â Ryujin shoots back, earning huffs of amusement from everyone as she defends her girlfriend.
âSpeaking of thatâŚâ Karina trails off, gaze drifting to you and Mark in a way that makes you shift nervously, eyes darting away from hers as you laugh nervously. âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
She leans back, a sly glint in her eyes as she scrutinizes every minute shift of your features. âYou were the second couple that night to go in. Did anything happen?â
Everyone else is paying attention now, even as they try to hide it.
Your eyes go to Donghyuck for a second, who only has a shit-eating grin on his face. From his expression, you can tell the man is practically jumping out of his seat at the prospect of being the one to reveal your newly-formed relationship with Mark.
Which means you have to beat him first.
âYeah. Weâre dating now,â you mutter, hiding your grin with a sip of your hot chocolate as the entire group turns silent. Even Mark looks at you, surprised, but his face quickly transforms into one of smug happiness as he grabs your hand, fingers interlacing with yours. âWe are,â he confirms, and Karinaâs eyes widen beyond what you thought possible.
âWhoa. Whoa. Hold on- when did this happen?â
âThe morning after,â you supplicate, and she rests her forehead on her hands as she blinks.
âGood to know the both of you had it in you,â Chenle says, smiling at you in a way thatâs equal parts teasing and sweet. âBy the way, you should probably give credit to Hyuck. He was the first to notice, you know.â
âReally?â
âWasnât difficult when the both of you were staring at each other like lovestruck idiots,â he says, and you roll your eyes. You suppose you owe the man a word of thanks, eventually. Just not right now.
âIâm happy for you guys.â Jaemin, the sweetest of your group, smiles widely at the both of you, and Mark pats him on the back in a sign of affection. âReally. It was a long time coming.â
âI guess it was, huh?â Mark says, turning towards you with a contemplative sort of joy on his features. Despite the dim lighting, itâs almost as if thereâs stars in his eyes as he looks at you, hand still tightly holding on to yours.
âGod, couples make me sick,â Donghyuck mutters, earning a glare from you and Yeji. âYou can leave, then,â you shoot back, pressing a kiss to Markâs cheek in a sign of defiance.
âYou bet I will-â
âSpeaking of that,â Jaemin, always the mediator, cuts Donghyuck off. âItâs late. We should probably head back to the cabins.â
âSounds good to me,â Karina says, standing up and folding her blanket over her chair. âGod, itâs cold.â
âYou cold?â Mark asks, and you shake your head, only zipping up your jacket as all of you make the slow trek back to your cabins at the end of the beach. Thanks to the off-season, you and Mark are sharing one, while Yeji, Ryujin and Karina take the larger house, with the other villas split between the six guys.
Eventually, you reach the doorstep of your cabin, waving farewell to the rest as they shrug off their shoes and unlock the doors. âGoodnight!â Yeji shouts, and you grin widely as you wave at her, the wind whipping your hair around your face.
Thankfully, the inside of the cabin offers a respite from the cold, and you find yourself quickly moving towards the woollen blanket on the couch. âTired?â Mark asks, leaning against the armrest to face you directly, and you shake your head, eyes still bright. âNot at all. I think being on holiday keeps me awake.â
âWanna watch a movie, then?â he asks, and you nod eagerly, stretching your arms out to pull him towards you.
âCome here,â you urge, making him stretch out his legs on the couch before you lie against him, legs tangled with his and back comfortably resting against his chest.
âSomeoneâs clingy today,â he points out, bemused.
âI havenât gotten to be with you alone since we left for the trip yesterday. Let a girl have what she wants.â
At your words, he nods, lips curving up as his arms settle around your waist, a kiss pressed to your hairline. âI can do that for my girl.â
âMy girl?â you ask, and he nods. âYouâve always been my girl. Even if you didnât know it then.â
âI guess I like it. You can keep calling me that,â you reply, and he nips at your ear. âYou looked good tonight, by the way,â you tell him, turning around momentarily to face him.
Heâs wearing a fleece jacket over one of his graphic tees, somehow still choosing to wear ripped jeans despite the cold weather.
âI would say that back to you, but Iâm guessing you already know,â he says, and you duck your head down, giggling softly.
âI suppose you also know that I love you. In case that wasnât obvious enough,â he adds after a while, as if not quite sure what youâll make of it. But youâre quick to nod.
âI love you too, Mark Lee. Youâre everything to me.â
Youâve never meant anything more, and he seems to be a little starstruck as he looks at you, an utter look of adoration in his eyes. âHow did I get so damn lucky?â he asks softly, and itâs enough to knock the breath out of your chest as your heart carves out even more space for him.
Itâs only when Mark tilts your chin up that you go silent, eyes widening slightly. Heâs staring directly at you, until he isnât.
Because his gaze drops down to your lips, his thumb coming up to brush the corner in a way that makes you freeze.
âCan I kiss you?â he murmurs, and the question is so sweet, so earnest, that it makes you smile.
âYou never have to ask,â you reply, and your boyfriend doesnât hesitate before heâs pulling you mouth towards his and closing whatever little distance there is left.
Kissing Mark feels like sinking into a soft pillow after a long day, something thatâs all too easy for you to melt into as you thread your fingers through the black strands at the nape of his neck. Itâs surprisingly easy to do, the both of you moving naturally as if youâve been doing this forever.
And when you find your kisses travelling down towards his neck, you take note of each soft exhale that he lets out, grip occasionally tightening around your waist.
Your hands are travelling too, going past his neck to his arms, and then ghosting down his sides, before you eventually find yourself preferring to fidget with the torn threads and rips in his jeans, occasionally tracing little shapes over the exposed skin of his thigh.
âYou- you really should stop doing that,â he forces out after a while, the tension in his voice making you smile.
âAre you sure?â you ask, looking up for a second to take in the conflict evident in his features. âN-no. But it feels good.â
His tone is almost whiny, the little note of desperation in it making pleasurable heat curl in your stomach. âThat was the goal, I think,â you shoot back sarcastically, and he laughs darkly, toying with the zipper at the side of your skirt.
You see the change as it happens, his eyes dimming just imperceptibly as something in it changes, a newfound determination in him as he presses one last bruising kiss to your lips.
âDonât get snarky with me now. We still have the entire night, you know,â he reminds, and you find yourself quickly swelling with an unfamiliar sort of excitement, tinted with an almost delectable sort of fear as he pulls you even closer, fingertip tracing down the side of your face.
âAnd we have this entire place to ourselves, so what are you planning?â you ask, arching an eyebrow curiously, which causes Mark to smile teasingly. This side of him is so unfamiliar to you, and yet you love every moment of it as your pulse races, blood and adrenaline rushing through your veins in equal measure.
âYouâll find out soon enough, baby.â
This time, when he guides your mouth to his, you gladly let him steal your oxygen.
summary: mark has a bad habit of second guessing himself in everything, especially when it comes to you.
pairing: mark x fem!reader
genre: college!au, friends to lovers!, fluff, angst, comedy
warning/s: profanities
teaser, part 1, part 2, part 3
"According to Freudâs theory, dreams depict unconscious thoughts and desires. He also....â Bull. Freud was a fraud. He was full of shit. You wanted to prove him wrong so bad. But heâs probably in hell right now, smirking, having a blast because of your misfortune. You could only imagine him saying, "I told you so.â Asshole.
You sigh. Your professorâs voice turns into a background noise while you drown in your very much unsolicited thoughts. The phrases longings of the subconscious mind and sexual instincts and motives were enough to put you in a profound contemplation.
Last night, you had a dream about Mark, a friend of yours, although you're not so sure if you can even consider him that because you only ever hung out when your mutual friends were around. But that's really not your main concern. In your dream, you and Mark... you were together. You were being domestic, lovey dovey and all that. You woke up this morning catching your breath because what the hell was that? The first thing you thought about was Sigmund Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams, a reading assignment in your major. You find yourself disagreeing (and quite frankly, disgusted) with some (read: most) of the late neurologistâs propositions. And man does the universe love keeping your smug attitude down to a minimum.
Why Mark of all people? Itâs not like you have feelings for him... well... do you? Oh, for fuckâs sake. You barely even know the guy! Your friends are starting to get in your head.
A few weeks ago, Haechan, one of your friends, jokingly suggested that you and Mark should date each other since you're both single. You just laughed because you know you weren't ready to enter a relationship with anyone anytime soon. And Mark just smiled, like he always does. He laughs a lot too. He does this thing with his nose and you just think that he looks cu- oh hell, no. Nope.
You were pulled out of your trance when you hear shuffling, the sound of backpacks being carried on shoulders. Your classmates are already starting to leave the lecture hall. So much for zoning out. You're supposed to be focusing on your lectures even more now that finals are around the corner. Yet, you spent your morning thinking about a guy who's essentially a stranger to you if you're being honest. All because of a dream? Why are you making such a big deal out of it anyway?
You stand up and put your things in your bag. You were putting your earphones on when you notice a familiar figure standing outside. Jeez, speak of the devil. A very good-looking one. Mark is wearing a plain white t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of converse. Very casual and very... dazzling. You snap out of your thoughts, again, when Mark waves his hand at you.
"Hi," he says, out of breath. It seems like he ran and oh boy, his sweat-dripping hair- You blinked twice.
"Hey!" You laugh nervously. You seriously need to get it together. "What's up?"
"Uh... the group wants to eat out tonight at the new restaurant a few blocks away from campus." You see his hesitation but then he continues, "They told me to get you, uh, Haechan said they're running a little late so we might wanna... go first," he scratches the back of his neck.
Is this some kind of a deliberate ploy where your friends pretend to be late and end up leaving you both alone? You are so going to give Haechan hell. Is he really serious about setting you and his friend up?! You swear you're gonna kick his balls until they dro- "You know... so we could save seats?" He adds, eyeing you carefully. He must have seen your face starting to crumple.
"Oh," is the only thing you manage to reply. Oh. You shake your head slightly. "Yeah, of course. Let me get my things first."
You know, for a psychology major, you're pretty delusional.
a/n: i'm not really sure where this is going but i just had to post it because it's long overdue đ if you liked it please let me know in the replies or here!! should i continue this one or not I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW đľâđŤ this is inspired by steve lacy's bad habit! it's been stuck in my head ever since it came out and it doesn't help that mark recommended it on bbl đ§đťââď¸
Š 2022 marklyfan all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, or translate my works.
oh my god its been almost a year đđ im so sorry i will try to finish this before this month ends!!!! sorry for keeping u waiting (n thank u if u are/did!!!)
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summary: mark has a bad habit of second guessing himself in everything, especially when it comes to you.
pairing: mark x fem!reader
genre: college!au, friends to lovers!, fluff, angst, comedy
warning/s: profanities
teaser, part 1, part 2, part 3
"According to Freudâs theory, dreams depict unconscious thoughts and desires. He also....â Bull. Freud was a fraud. He was full of shit. You wanted to prove him wrong so bad. But heâs probably in hell right now, smirking, having a blast because of your misfortune. You could only imagine him saying, "I told you so.â Asshole.
You sigh. Your professorâs voice turns into a background noise while you drown in your very much unsolicited thoughts. The phrases longings of the subconscious mind and sexual instincts and motives were enough to put you in a profound contemplation.
Last night, you had a dream about Mark, a friend of yours, although you're not so sure if you can even consider him that because you only ever hung out when your mutual friends were around. But that's really not your main concern. In your dream, you and Mark... you were together. You were being domestic, lovey dovey and all that. You woke up this morning catching your breath because what the hell was that? The first thing you thought about was Sigmund Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams, a reading assignment in your major. You find yourself disagreeing (and quite frankly, disgusted) with some (read: most) of the late neurologistâs propositions. And man does the universe love keeping your smug attitude down to a minimum.
Why Mark of all people? Itâs not like you have feelings for him... well... do you? Oh, for fuckâs sake. You barely even know the guy! Your friends are starting to get in your head.
A few weeks ago, Haechan, one of your friends, jokingly suggested that you and Mark should date each other since you're both single. You just laughed because you know you weren't ready to enter a relationship with anyone anytime soon. And Mark just smiled, like he always does. He laughs a lot too. He does this thing with his nose and you just think that he looks cu- oh hell, no. Nope.
You were pulled out of your trance when you hear shuffling, the sound of backpacks being carried on shoulders. Your classmates are already starting to leave the lecture hall. So much for zoning out. You're supposed to be focusing on your lectures even more now that finals are around the corner. Yet, you spent your morning thinking about a guy who's essentially a stranger to you if you're being honest. All because of a dream? Why are you making such a big deal out of it anyway?
You stand up and put your things in your bag. You were putting your earphones on when you notice a familiar figure standing outside. Jeez, speak of the devil. A very good-looking one. Mark is wearing a plain white t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of converse. Very casual and very... dazzling. You snap out of your thoughts, again, when Mark waves his hand at you.
"Hi," he says, out of breath. It seems like he ran and oh boy, his sweat-dripping hair- You blinked twice.
"Hey!" You laugh nervously. You seriously need to get it together. "What's up?"
"Uh... the group wants to eat out tonight at the new restaurant a few blocks away from campus." You see his hesitation but then he continues, "They told me to get you, uh, Haechan said they're running a little late so we might wanna... go first," he scratches the back of his neck.
Is this some kind of a deliberate ploy where your friends pretend to be late and end up leaving you both alone? You are so going to give Haechan hell. Is he really serious about setting you and his friend up?! You swear you're gonna kick his balls until they dro- "You know... so we could save seats?" He adds, eyeing you carefully. He must have seen your face starting to crumple.
"Oh," is the only thing you manage to reply. Oh. You shake your head slightly. "Yeah, of course. Let me get my things first."
You know, for a psychology major, you're pretty delusional.
a/n: i'm not really sure where this is going but i just had to post it because it's long overdue đ if you liked it please let me know in the replies or here!! should i continue this one or not I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW đľâđŤ this is inspired by steve lacy's bad habit! it's been stuck in my head ever since it came out and it doesn't help that mark recommended it on bbl đ§đťââď¸
Š 2022 marklyfan all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, or translate my works.
summary: mark has a bad habit of second guessing himself in everything, especially when it comes to you.
pairing: mark x fem!reader
genre: college!au, friends to lovers!, fluff, angst, comedy
warning/s: profanities
teaser, part 1, part 2, part 3
"According to Freudâs theory, dreams depict unconscious thoughts and desires. He also....â Bull. Freud was a fraud. He was full of shit. You wanted to prove him wrong so bad. But heâs probably in hell right now, smirking, having a blast because of your misfortune. You could only imagine him saying, "I told you so.â Asshole.
You sigh. Your professorâs voice turns into a background noise while you drown in your very much unsolicited thoughts. The phrases longings of the subconscious mind and sexual instincts and motives were enough to put you in a profound contemplation.
Last night, you had a dream about Mark, a friend of yours, although you're not so sure if you can even consider him that because you only ever hung out when your mutual friends were around. But that's really not your main concern. In your dream, you and Mark... you were together. You were being domestic, lovey dovey and all that. You woke up this morning catching your breath because what the hell was that? The first thing you thought about was Sigmund Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams, a reading assignment in your major. You find yourself disagreeing (and quite frankly, disgusted) with some (read: most) of the late neurologistâs propositions. And man does the universe love keeping your smug attitude down to a minimum.
Why Mark of all people? Itâs not like you have feelings for him... well... do you? Oh, for fuckâs sake. You barely even know the guy! Your friends are starting to get in your head.
A few weeks ago, Haechan, one of your friends, jokingly suggested that you and Mark should date each other since you're both single. You just laughed because you know you weren't ready to enter a relationship with anyone anytime soon. And Mark just smiled, like he always does. He laughs a lot too. He does this thing with his nose and you just think that he looks cu- oh hell, no. Nope.
You were pulled out of your trance when you hear shuffling, the sound of backpacks being carried on shoulders. Your classmates are already starting to leave the lecture hall. So much for zoning out. You're supposed to be focusing on your lectures even more now that finals are around the corner. Yet, you spent your morning thinking about a guy who's essentially a stranger to you if you're being honest. All because of a dream? Why are you making such a big deal out of it anyway?
You stand up and put your things in your bag. You were putting your earphones on when you notice a familiar figure standing outside. Jeez, speak of the devil. A very good-looking one. Mark is wearing a plain white t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of converse. Very casual and very... dazzling. You snap out of your thoughts, again, when Mark waves his hand at you.
"Hi," he says, out of breath. It seems like he ran and oh boy, his sweat-dripping hair- You blinked twice.
"Hey!" You laugh nervously. You seriously need to get it together. "What's up?"
"Uh... the group wants to eat out tonight at the new restaurant a few blocks away from campus." You see his hesitation but then he continues, "They told me to get you, uh, Haechan said they're running a little late so we might wanna... go first," he scratches the back of his neck.
Is this some kind of a deliberate ploy where your friends pretend to be late and end up leaving you both alone? You are so going to give Haechan hell. Is he really serious about setting you and his friend up?! You swear you're gonna kick his balls until they dro- "You know... so we could save seats?" He adds, eyeing you carefully. He must have seen your face starting to crumple.
"Oh," is the only thing you manage to reply. Oh. You shake your head slightly. "Yeah, of course. Let me get my things first."
You know, for a psychology major, you're pretty delusional.
a/n: i'm not really sure where this is going but i just had to post it because it's long overdue đ if you liked it please let me know in the replies or here!! should i continue this one or not I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW đľâđŤ this is inspired by steve lacy's bad habit! it's been stuck in my head ever since it came out and it doesn't help that mark recommended it on bbl đ§đťââď¸
Š 2022 marklyfan all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, or translate my works.
summary: mark has a bad habit of second guessing himself in everything, especially when it comes to you.
pairing: mark x fem!reader
genre: college!au, friends to lovers!, fluff, angst, comedy
warning/s: profanities
teaser, part 1, part 2, part 3
"According to Freudâs theory, dreams depict unconscious thoughts and desires. He also....â Bull. Freud was a fraud. He was full of shit. You wanted to prove him wrong so bad. But heâs probably in hell right now, smirking, having a blast because of your misfortune. You could only imagine him saying, "I told you so.â Asshole.
You sigh. Your professorâs voice turns into a background noise while you drown in your very much unsolicited thoughts. The phrases longings of the subconscious mind and sexual instincts and motives were enough to put you in a profound contemplation.
Last night, you had a dream about Mark, a friend of yours, although you're not so sure if you can even consider him that because you only ever hung out when your mutual friends were around. But that's really not your main concern. In your dream, you and Mark... you were together. You were being domestic, lovey dovey and all that. You woke up this morning catching your breath because what the hell was that? The first thing you thought about was Sigmund Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams, a reading assignment in your major. You find yourself disagreeing (and quite frankly, disgusted) with some (read: most) of the late neurologistâs propositions. And man does the universe love keeping your smug attitude down to a minimum.
Why Mark of all people? Itâs not like you have feelings for him... well... do you? Oh, for fuckâs sake. You barely even know the guy! Your friends are starting to get in your head.
A few weeks ago, Haechan, one of your friends, jokingly suggested that you and Mark should date each other since you're both single. You just laughed because you know you weren't ready to enter a relationship with anyone anytime soon. And Mark just smiled, like he always does. He laughs a lot too. He does this thing with his nose and you just think that he looks cu- oh hell, no. Nope.
You were pulled out of your trance when you hear shuffling, the sound of backpacks being carried on shoulders. Your classmates are already starting to leave the lecture hall. So much for zoning out. You're supposed to be focusing on your lectures even more now that finals are around the corner. Yet, you spent your morning thinking about a guy who's essentially a stranger to you if you're being honest. All because of a dream? Why are you making such a big deal out of it anyway?
You stand up and put your things in your bag. You were putting your earphones on when you notice a familiar figure standing outside. Jeez, speak of the devil. A very good-looking one. Mark is wearing a plain white t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of converse. Very casual and very... dazzling. You snap out of your thoughts, again, when Mark waves his hand at you.
"Hi," he says, out of breath. It seems like he ran and oh boy, his sweat-dripping hair- You blinked twice.
"Hey!" You laugh nervously. You seriously need to get it together. "What's up?"
"Uh... the group wants to eat out tonight at the new restaurant a few blocks away from campus." You see his hesitation but then he continues, "They told me to get you, uh, Haechan said they're running a little late so we might wanna... go first," he scratches the back of his neck.
Is this some kind of a deliberate ploy where your friends pretend to be late and end up leaving you both alone? You are so going to give Haechan hell. Is he really serious about setting you and his friend up?! You swear you're gonna kick his balls until they dro- "You know... so we could save seats?" He adds, eyeing you carefully. He must have seen your face starting to crumple.
"Oh," is the only thing you manage to reply. Oh. You shake your head slightly. "Yeah, of course. Let me get my things first."
You know, for a psychology major, you're pretty delusional.
a/n: i'm not really sure where this is going but i just had to post it because it's long overdue đ if you liked it please let me know in the replies or here!! should i continue this one or not I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW đľâđŤ this is inspired by steve lacy's bad habit! it's been stuck in my head ever since it came out and it doesn't help that mark recommended it on bbl đ§đťââď¸
Š 2022 marklyfan all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, or translate my works.
I WAS RELATING TO IT SO BAD ITS ACTUALLY CONCERNING ESPECIALLY WITH THE WHOLE MUTUAL FRIENDS AND GETTING TOGETHER JOKE
MAYBE UR FIC WILL PAVE THE WAY HOW MY LOVE LIFE GOES đŤĄđŤĄ
oh my god đ i kinda feel pressured now HDJJDJDBDBD don't worry i will finish it âşď¸ i hope everything goes well for you and your friend! you can even update me if you want ;)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
warning(s): none, but maybe some bad language and typos
authorâs note: i swear 40% of the word count goes to hydrangea sweet dew tea⌠enjoy!
Day 441.
âWhatâs this?â you questioned, retrieving the gift that was wrapped in a cute comic strip wrapping paper. He grins in response, âOpen it,â he urges. You start to pick at the tape that held the wrapping paper in place, careful as to not tear or damage the paper. He looks on excitedly, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
You pull out the rectangular object, revealing a notebook, engraved with his name and his birth date, in hand. You looked at him; he still had the same boyish, ridiculously cute smile plastered on his face. âGo on,â he urges once more, gesturing with his hand for you to open the notebook.
âDonât tell me you got me a diary with your name engraved on it just to claim me as your possession,â you say, glaring at him, mind rid of any harmful intentions. He giggles, quickly getting up on his feet, âYou open it, okay? Iâll go make us some drinks.â
He presses a soft peck on your forehead, running off to leave you to unravelling your gift.
You open the notebook, the pages already pre-filled with black ink.
this is probably one of my favorite mark fics đ i won't consider myself as y/n... y/n is stronger than me because i would have told mark my name in a heartbeat without hesitations
warning(s): none, but maybe some bad language and typos
authorâs note: i swear 40% of the word count goes to hydrangea sweet dew tea⌠enjoy!
Day 441.
âWhatâs this?â you questioned, retrieving the gift that was wrapped in a cute comic strip wrapping paper. He grins in response, âOpen it,â he urges. You start to pick at the tape that held the wrapping paper in place, careful as to not tear or damage the paper. He looks on excitedly, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
You pull out the rectangular object, revealing a notebook, engraved with his name and his birth date, in hand. You looked at him; he still had the same boyish, ridiculously cute smile plastered on his face. âGo on,â he urges once more, gesturing with his hand for you to open the notebook.
âDonât tell me you got me a diary with your name engraved on it just to claim me as your possession,â you say, glaring at him, mind rid of any harmful intentions. He giggles, quickly getting up on his feet, âYou open it, okay? Iâll go make us some drinks.â
He presses a soft peck on your forehead, running off to leave you to unravelling your gift.
You open the notebook, the pages already pre-filled with black ink.
you shake your head, blinking your dry eyes a few times in an attempt to keep yourself alert. although you're very much enjoying jisung's story time, you can't control your eyelids that are gradually getting heavier and heavier.
mark notices the small change in your smile - yes, you are still very much in a good mood, but he can tell that you're tired. he shimmies himself a little closer to you, whispering in your ear, "tired?"
you turn to him, your smile a little wider than before. "a little," you admit. mark crosses his legs, tapping gently on his left thigh, "want to rest?" he offers.
nodding your head, you lean into the floor, resting your head against mark's leg. he shifts a little, doing his best to ensure that you're comfortable. "goodnight," he whispers, pressing a soft peck to the side of your head.
you close your eyes, jisung's loud and excited voice still going on about how he saw a dog on the street playing with a bird. you didn't really mind the noise from the reactions and conversation between the guys, since it did serve as white noise for you to fall asleep to.
but then, suddenly, you feel mark's cold hand cupping your ear. you keep your eyes closed, and you don't move.
mark looks down at you, a small smile plastered on his face. he doesn't want his noisy members to disturb your sleep.
a good year into your relationship and yet, the smallest gestures he does still makes the same set of butterflies from a year ago, flutter about in your stomach.
you'd think this is the sweetest he can be, but mark always surpasses your expectations.
you feel and hear the vibration of his phone, indicating an incoming call. mark looks at the caller id, then looks back at you. he needs to answer the call, so with his free hand, he reaches for your limp arm, gently raising it by your wrist. he removes the hand he had cupped over your ear, and places your own palm over your head. you hear his muffled, "hello?"
you try to hold back a giggle, knowing fully well how red and shy he'd get if he knew you are awake through all of this. he ends the call quickly, and once you hear him say, "okay, bye," your hand is removed and replaced by his hand, once again.
unable to hold yourself back anymore, you open your eyes to see him staring down at you, his loving gaze shifting into a questioning one.
"you're so cute," you tell him, pulling him in for a quick peck.
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a guide to leaving feedback / interacting with fics.
recently in the kpop fanfic community, there have been a lot of authors that depart from their blogs due to the lack of feedback & interactions they receive on their fics. this could be due to a number of reasons, but since we are a fic-recommendation blog, we figured we would do our part in helping the community be more aware of a couple ways on how they can spread love on their favorite works and prevent more authors from leaving due to this specific reason!
please understand that is just the perspective of the admins of ficscafe. other people have different preferences and opinions, but we compiled information gathered from perspectives of an abundance of authors and this seems to be the middle ground / popular belief. if you have any questions or concerns, please drop by the ficscafe ask box.
reblogs + text response.
if weâre talking about the best way to promote authors and make them feel good, reblogging the fic itself and writing your feedback in the body of the post is the way to do it. thereâs nothing better than an author clicking their notifications and seeing a reblog + comment on a fic theyâve written. it not only helps with promoting, but it also gives them an idea of how their audience feels about their work!
comment within the reblog vs. tags.
thereâs nothing wrong with either of these! they both have the same purposeâpromotion with feedback for the author. the only setback for tags is that if the author wanted to respond to your comment, it would require them to take a screenshot instead of reblogging with your feedback above theirs.
stuck on what to write in the comments?
easy! write literally anything pertaining to the fic. you can quote parts of the story where you felt a certain way, you can compliment the writing style, or you can discuss your thoughts on the fic. you can also talk about how much it impacted you, how interesting the storyline was, or even the uniqueness of the fic. literally anything. authors love hearing from their readers, and it motivates them to continue writing more !!
comments.
only leaving comments is fine, however, itâs not particularly the best when it comes to promotion. authors do love seeing how their audience feels about their ficâbut itâs a bit discouraging when their readers comment but it wasnât good enough to warrant a reblog. authors sometimes depend on their tags, networks, and pages like ours to help with sharing their stories, but it only goes to a certain extent. please reblog !! your reblog will be more helpful than you think.
likes.
probably the absolute worst way to express your adoration for a fic. tumblr is not like instagramâin order for the fic to be spread throughout the community, liking wonât take it far. liking a fic and leaving it as that is almost as if youâre hiding the fact that you enjoyed it. if you really did enjoy the content, please refer back to #1 as to which is the best way.
leaving asks.
this is sweet !! we understand that sometimes readers can be shy, but again, it has the same result as #2 comments. leaving asks means interacting with the author, and this can create an ongoing conversation and build a relationship with your favorite author. nothing is better (other than a reblog + text response) than seeing a little bubble above your inbox with a new ask.
donations.
this is probably the least popular action. thereâs nothing wrong with authors asking for donations, but they shouldnât make you feel like itâs an obligation or guilt trip you into doing it. donations should be within your meansâbut if you can donate and the fic was worthwhile enough to donate, feel free to do so! most authors have a kofi, but if they donât, feel free to drop by their inbox and ask!
"is this okay?" mark asks as he stares at you intently and tucks your hair behind your ear ever so gently, like you're delicate and easily breakable. maybe you are, because your heart can't take this and the voice in your head is screaming 'no' in all the languages you know but it's like your comprehension skills and critical thinking never existed.
he leans in and caresses your cheeks, the touch barely there but that didn't stop you from shivering and feeling the goosebumps rising all over your body. "y/n..." you drew a deep breath. you hated uncertainty the most, "yes." but for him, you were willing to gamble.