nerdy!mark who loves getting to tutor you because youâre behind on work and who else could you go to other than him? you spend the time over at his place, sat comfortably on the floor together, text books spread out and notes flailed about.
nerdy!mark who hovers over you as you complain about needing a break, suggesting you two can take one for 5 minutes. you ask if heâs got anything in mind while looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours and he has to hold back from kissing your lips.
nerdy!mark who gets flustered whenever your knee keeps brushing against his, when youâre sat too close to him and all he can smell is your sweet vanilla scented perfume, swallowing hard. if you ask about it, he just makes up a small excuse, his ears turning red.
nerdy!mark who tries not to look whenever your top rises up and shows your stomach, no matter if youâre stretching or just leaning over to grab a snack thatâs sat on the table in front of you both. he does end up taking a peek.
nerdy!mark who keeps pushing up his glasses that fall down the bridge of his nose, zoning out as he tries to figure out an equation for you before getting knocked out of his thoughts as he feels you pushing his glasses back up. âyouâll get annoyed if itâs on the tip of your nose, iâve seen your nose scrunching.â
nerdy!mark who tries to explain something to you but youâre looking at him with such interest, your eyes slowly moving from his eyes to his lips and his brain short circuits. you notice and let out a small giggle, âkeep going markie.â
nerdy!mark who notices you had fallen asleep on your text book, watching the way your chest slowly rises up and down, hearing a soft exhale exiting you. he bites back a smile, mumbling to himself, âyouâll be the death of me by the end of this course..â
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you hadnât been aware that markâs jealousy followed the rules of baseball â three strikes, and he snaps?
read the first part here!
pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader
verse: college!au
rating: r
warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mcâs stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this âplotâ to get to where it gets
word count: 20.3k
a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days⌠iâm so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if itâs actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbetaâd but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope itâs something that you can enjoy, and i couldnât pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!
if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!
You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side â or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.
You canât really help it; heâs still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just canât do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Markâs aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, youâd easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you donât think thereâs any pressing need to remind him â not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. Youâre certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head â something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.
It also should be unmistakably clear that youâre head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, heâs got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) â but if he doesnât notice then, you canât hold it against him; Markâs mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.
He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure youâre there right as he gets out â a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Leeâs admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, youâd correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. Youâre Mark Leeâs girlfriend.
Itâs a fact you donât mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart â boyfriend â his eyes still widen, like heâs hearing it for the first time. Itâs cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesnât believe you.
Whatever. It doesnât matter; youâll just keep telling him.
You donât have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish heâd look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.
However, hanging out with him doesnât always mean youâre just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and youâve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.
The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that youâd only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. Heâs supremely outgoing, a trait you canât say you mind, but thereâs an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.
The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that theyâve come to know you as that girl Mark didnât teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something youâve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but youâre the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.
Again, you donât mind it; new people arenât an issue to you, and youâre also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways theyâre alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, youâve come to learn, through the conversations youâve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know theyâre all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment thereâs even a spark of dissent from one person â and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.
Today is no exception.
âDude, youâre crazy,â Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, heâs the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latterâs will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. âThe ninth was the worst, hands down.â
âArt and rendering were so solid.â Donghyuck raises a finger, and youâre not sure if itâs to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You donât want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latterâs face to speak up. You presume thatâs why everyone else isnât stopping them â or maybe theyâre just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. âIntuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?â
âDepth? Do you even hear yourself right now?â Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. âWhat kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. Andââ
âThereâs a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.â
âThe open world was a disaster,â Chenle plows on. âIt was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. Itâs quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. Thatâs exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.â
âI thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.â
Itâs a singularly amusing sight â Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like heâs waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going âI actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,â but that just goes unnoticed by either party.
âYou once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldnât scale. Donât say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.â
âUnlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. Thatâs also probably why some people â not naming names â just canât appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.â
Donghyuck doesnât even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.
âYouâre fucking impossible!â
âCan you guys relax?â Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. âYouâre making a scene over a dead game franchise.â
âItâs not dead; theyâre on hiatus,â both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before heâs fully folded his arms across his chest.
Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. Youâre thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation â especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if heâs trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuckâs opinion is âborne of ignorance.â When theyâre all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the baristaâs station, where heâs busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid thatâs already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.
The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and heâs got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they donât catch any stains. Youâre pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, heâs aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. Youâd bet a monthâs allowance heâs doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.
And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like thereâs nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.
You smile back, but when he turns away to take someoneâs order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.
Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.
The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you donât have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.
âGot anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?â
âWhat?â Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. Youâre sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but youâre just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. âUh â no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about⌠sorry, what were you guys talking about again?â
âSee, thatâs how normal people act,â Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. âInstead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.â
âNot that thereâs anything wrong with that.â Youâre quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. âIâm sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.â
âAnd if you had, Iâm sure youâd have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,â Chenle sniffs, but heâs looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, whoâs still ignoring him, save for the fact that heâs now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesnât feel like such a great upgrade).
âNah, sheâd be on my side. ___________ looks like sheâd appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?â
âUhâŚâ you say smartly.
âMan, shut up.â Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. âGot me so pissed off I need to pee now.â
You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts â which you donât â Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. Itâs only when heâs out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.
âActually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isnât it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?â
âTo be honest, Iâve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,â you admit, and even though youâre not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. âToo bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or Iâd weigh in, too.â
âNot a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?â
âNo one is, Hyuck,â Jeno snorts, shaking his head. âYou two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.â
âFair. I nurture a love for old franchises.â Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how heâs managed to tick off one of his most important âto-doâ points of the day. âSo whatâs your poison, ___________?â
âWhatâs that mean?â
âYou a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good olâ fashioned LoL?â
âI honestly donât have the hand-eye coordination to play,â you confess. âI know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person wouldâve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didnât throw me out.â
âShe even tries to play with him,â Donghyuck whistles lowly. âDude, howâd Mark get a chick like you?â
âMeaning?â
âYouâre way too good for that dope.â His laugh is light and good-natured. âNever thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl â which heâs called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but⌠I get it. Doesnât make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.â
âSorry to put you through that.â You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuckâs just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, whoâs pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. âI guess it wonât help if I say your friend over thereâs my dream guy.â
âIt absolutely will not,â Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. âBut tell you what â if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, Iâll find you someone else more your speed.â
âNo thanks,â you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. âMore than that, Iâd just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.â
âWe can help you with that too,â Jisung volunteers. âJeno taught me the basics. Iâm sure he can teach you too.â
âYeah, and Iâm guessing youâd be a better student than mister âhow come you didnât tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myselfâ over here,â Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.
âIâm pretty good at sneak attacks myself.â Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. âWeâll take care of you. Mark wonât know what hit him next time.â
âWhatâs happening to me next time?â
You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.
âWe were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here whoâs just too nice to turn you down.â Donghyuck lies like itâs second nature; you wonder if thatâs a Finance major thing or just a him thing.
âAnd youâre offering that to someone who didnât ask for it?â Mark snorts, nudging Chenleâs bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.
âSheâs so caught up in your sticky little web that she canât struggle against you.â Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. âIâll save you, so donât worry. Mark canât keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, Iâll come a-running to free you.â
Thereâs a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuckâs as quick to let go as he is to hang on.
âWe were just talking about PUBG,â you correct, and Markâs eyes snap to you. âI was asking for help â you know, so I wonât drag you down the next time I join in?â
âI donât mind whatever you do in-game.â Heâs quick to comfort you, even if you donât actually need it, but it feels warm and cold âIâm just glad you wanna try it with me.â
âNo, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you donât have to keep avenging me after five minutes,â you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you donât realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.
âThen Iâll teach you next time.â
âNo, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, Iâll even beat you.â You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. âUh⌠I can beat him, canât I?â
âIf you play different teams, yeah,â he confirms. âTrust me. Iâll help you kick his ass.â
âOr weâll both kick yours,â Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. Heâs massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You donât miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuckâs face nor the way he mouths âsapâ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.
âYo, hotpot at seven? Renjunâs asking,â Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. âJaemin canât make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.â
âIâm down,â Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenleâs eyes shoot heavenward, like heâs already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.
âCanât,â Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. âPre-test tomorrow.â
âDude, itâs a pre-test,â Donghyuck rolls his eyes. âYou donât have to study if theyâre just testing how much you know before studying.â
âGotta study all the same.â
âI gotta pass too,â Jisung looks actually apologetic. âI promised my mom Iâd help her move some stuff to my auntâs place tonight.â
âBoring,â Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. âLovebirds?â
âRain check,â Mark shakes his head. âFamily dinner. My brotherâs home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us canât make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesnât have study group either.â
âIf thatâs even what that weirdoâs doing,â Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. âFine; Iâll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I canât coordinate in six different private chats ever again.â
âYou can put my name down already,â Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. âTwo names, actually.â
âIâm good on Monday too. When we see each other again, Iâll bring some prospects for you to sift through,â Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. âCool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.â
âIâll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,â you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.
âHow the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?â
âIâm pretty sure she once told me I⌠what did you say?â Mark glances at you amusedly. âI had some moves, I guess.â
âYou mean stutter and blush in her presence?â Donghyuck canât decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. âAnd that won you over?â
âMost powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,â you shrug, grinning. âHad me from the first âum,â and heâs had me ever since.â
âYou lucky son of a bitch,â Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Markâs face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.
The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just arenât quick enough to read the signs, as usual.
But in your defense (again), it hadnât felt all that significant.
âFuck, this is spicy,â Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle thatâs broken by a laugh thatâs not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe heâs just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.
Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenleâs part; heâd even texted you just to make sure heâd gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you canât help but wonder if heâs not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.
âThatâs why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,â Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaeminâs messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if thatâs actually impossible. âYouâve got super mala breath now.â
âDonât know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,â Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.
Itâs nice, you think, that Markâs friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes theyâve made at his expense, theyâve been consistently open to having you around. Youâre not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.
Theyâre even louder outside Starbucks, youâve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Markâs friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when theyâre already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and thereâs a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.
Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you canât help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that youâd been so drawn to him, but they just donât know that even theyâre victims of Markâs natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.
But even when heâs mostly distracted by conversation, thereâs a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if youâd adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (youâd always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Markâs sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where theyâve rolled under the table, making sure youâre bump-free when you resurface.
And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what heâs doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder â youâd even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjunâs alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like heâs worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that heâll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.
But itâs hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until thereâs just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly itâs much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like heâs trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach â his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you canât really decipher. Like heâs writing a message just for you.
It makes you feel like no matter what heâs doing, a part of his mind is always on you.
âYou guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think itâs called,â Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isnât swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. âI think itâs coming out in a week or two.â
âIâd be okay with it,â Renjun shrugs, although he doesnât look enthused. âKind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but Iâm down if you all are.â
A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesnât immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.
âIf I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,â you warn. âRemember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.â
He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. âYeah â weâll pass, I think.â
âScaredy-cat,â Donghyuck teases, and youâre surprised that Mark doesnât come to his own defense. Thereâs something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose thereâs also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.
âActually, Iâm the one who canât handle it well,â you smile in apology. âSorry. I donât have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.â
âIn short, you donât want Mark to see you scream and cry,â Chenle deduces. You canât even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.
âBingo.â
âWell, we can solve the problem,â Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyoneâs attention for no good reason. â__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he wonât see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.â
âThanks for the offer,â you laugh, shaking your head. âBut itâs not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.â
âIt is to me,â Donghyuck winks, and you feel Markâs hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like heâs trying to make a fist but canât quite get to that point out of personal restraint. âOr better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you wonât be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions youâre going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? Itâs a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.â
Youâve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers arenât just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although itâs hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.
âShould we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?â You ride along with the joke.
âNo way. Youâre the one calling the shots.â Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. âOkay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; whoâs got the better punches?â
You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you canât really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Markâs palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.
âItâs a complete knock-out,â you finally announce, grinning. âChampionship belt goes to Mark.â
âMan, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, Iâd propose in a day, max,â Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.
âMan mustâve saved a nation or something in his past life,â Donghyuck grimaces. âNo way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey â got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe Iâll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.â
âI would actually deck you, so donât even try it,â Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. Youâre flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesnât often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.
The billâs split eight ways, but Markâs fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; itâs one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor â landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.
You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.
The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommateâs in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; youâve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. Youâre not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Markâs friends, itâs even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.
Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; itâs cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Markâs form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.
A part of you wonders if youâll be able to do this â lean in, flush against him â when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize youâre more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.
âSorry,â Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. âIsnât hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?â
You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. âNot really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are â and how big the group is. Itâs usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and theyâre definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.â
âYeji and Jisu,â he echoes. âYour best friends. I havenât met them yet, have I?â
âNot yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we canât get our schedules to align right just yet.â Your hip collides gently with his. âShould I let you, though?â
âOne day⌠I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.â
âIâll tell them, then. They want to meet you.â You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper thatâs completely unnecessary. âThey want to know if youâre as cute as you look in your pictures.â
Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. âHow do they know what my pictures look like?â
âI stalked your Instagram and showed them,â you answer simply. He throws you a funny look thatâs equal parts disbelief and amusement. âThey liked that one with the Spider-man costume.â
âPlease donât,â he groans, passing a hand over his face. âI should have taken that down, but I didnât think anyone would care.â
âWhy? I like it.â Your handâs the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.
âI canât ever understand whatâs going through your head,â he chuckles, and you think itâs unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. âYou saw that and still wanted to date me?â
âMark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. Itâs kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.â
Youâre just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like youâre caught in motion.
âI still canât wrap my head around it sometimes.â
âWhat?â
âI just look over at you and feel like itâs not real. Like youâre going to disappear, and Iâm just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesnât even know my name.â He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isnât done talking. âAnd Iâm going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you wonât ever feel that same way.â
âYou know Iâm right here, though, donât you?â Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. âYou can feel me. Iâm here with you.â
Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you â a habit of avoidance you know heâs trying to correct. âSometimes I have to wonder if theyâre right.â
âIf⌠whoâs right?â
âThem.â He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. âThe guys. You know â when they ask me how I got a girl like you⌠the truth is, I donât even really know. They canât believe it, and itâs so crazy to me that I still sometimes canât myself. So I start wondering ifââ
You donât let him finish this time; itâs rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what heâs about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you donât create the same distance, and Markâs hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.
âTheyâre wrong,â you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. âSo stop wondering and just be with me.â
A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, heâs nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.
âNext time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, thereâll be consequences.â
âAre you threatening me?â His laugh is colored with incredulity.
âYes.â Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. âMaybe Iâll ground you for a week, or something really childish.â
âIâd take it if you were with me.â
âThatâs not how it works,â you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. âYouâd be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, Iâll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.â
âIf that happens, promise me one thing, then.â He maneuvers your stance until youâre both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. âDonât sit next to Donghyuck.â
âAnd let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.â
âNo, really.â Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. âI donât want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I donât deserve you or that heâll help you find someone better.â
âYou know heâs just joking â and Iâm just joking, right?â
âJust promise me.â
You pause, wondering if itâs in your best interest to tease him for whatever act heâs pulling, but thereâs a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. Heâs really waiting for something â an answer. The right answer, maybe.
âI promise,â you finally say, and you know youâve said the correct thing when Markâs lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like heâs sealing in your vow.
On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.
The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when youâre not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No â maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time youâd spent in there, heâd thought up yet another way to push Markâs buttons. You just didnât really know the exact minute heâd first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.
You donât know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesnât even get in trouble, let alone fail. Youâd only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You donât expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, youâd spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, youâd already come to realize that it doesnât matter because he had only attended one lecture â the first one â thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyunâs handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.
Now that you think about it, thatâs probably how he does it.
You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You canât help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because youâd much rather do things that are important to you â like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like itâs the first time youâre saying something so sweet to him, except heâs definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Markâs face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until heâs basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.
âYou should really be more legible with your strokes.â He has the audacity to chastise you as if heâs the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.
âYou should really come to class more often,â you bite back, although thereâs no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if thereâs a chance youâll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.
âWould if I could.â
âYou actually fucking can,â you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. âCanât you just take a picture?â
âNah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.â
âSo take a picture and then write it down carefully.â
âWith your ridiculous handwriting? Iâd probably fail.â
âSo come to class and write it yourself!â
Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but sheâs not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence itâs hard to imagine youâd wanted to smack him two minutes ago.
âJung Jaehyun,â the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well â and not in a great way. âI see youâre back in here after your probationary period.â
âSorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.â He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. âI promise I wonât get in your way again today.â
âAnd this oneââ She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyunâs pointing at you and mouthing âthis oneâ with excessive mirth in his eyes. âIsnât another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?â
Jaehyun says âwe didnât defile anythingâ at the same time you say Iâm going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.
âIâll be keeping a close eye on you two,â Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.
âPlease, Jaehyun,â you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. âJust hurry up. Release me.â
He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. âI would like to set the record straight and make it known I didnât fuck anyone in the library.â
âWhatâd you get probation for, then?â
âJust making out.â You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while heâs still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. âWhat are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?â
âHas it ever occurred to you,â you grumble, raising your head. âThat some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?â
âNo,â comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and youâd find yourself waking up in Markâs arms instead, but you have no such luck. âBy better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone elseâs bedroom? Thatâs real defilement, by the way.â
âHowâd you hear about that?â You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. âFucking Youngho.â
âYou doing that too?â
âShut â please, would you hurry?â
He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witchâs cackle. âAlmost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together â like, together together?â
You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyunâs nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. âYeah. Whatâs it to you, though?â
âNothing. Youâre lucky.â
For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. âYeah â yeah, I am.â
âI bet his friends donât seem to think so.â
âIs this something you know because itâs a guy thing or because youâre so nosy that you just canât help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?â
âA bit of both,â he chuckles. âMostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.â
âI noticed that too â a bit, anyway. But itâs just banter, I think.â
âProbably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; itâs like⌠the perfect ammunition for teasing. But Iâm pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.â
âWhat about yours?â
âI get it,â he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like youâre climbing onto Jaehyunâs lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. âIâll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?â
âOr how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while youâre taking advantage of my goodwill?â
âSounds like too much effort on my end,â he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. âLater, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way â not the girlfriend way, please.â
You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. Youâre so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.
âOh, fuckâ Jesus, Iâm sorry, I waâ wait, Donghyuck?â
âGreat to see you too, ___________.â He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. âYou in a rush?â
âI was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.â
âHis shiftâs probably almost over. Iâm headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.â When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. âWere you in a study group, or something?â
âNo,â you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, whoâs now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where youâd left him. Donghyuckâs eyebrows shoot up. âHeâs my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.â
âOh, Jaehyun, yeah.â Donghyuck snaps his fingers. âWe were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I donât know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?â
âNot really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.â
âItâs funny,â he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. âJaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.â
You canât help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. âWhat do you mean, my speed?â
âNot sure.â He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. âSomeone whoâd fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers menâs health magazines to be classic literature.â
âThatâs your impression of my social circle?â
âYou know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.â He scratches the back of his neck. âLike⌠you asked him out. Not even the other way around. Thatâs ridiculous.â
âWhy?â You know he doesnât mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. âA girl canât ask a guy out?â
(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until youâd cornered him in Younghoâs room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)
âNah, dude. Like⌠a girl like you asked a guy like him out.â
âI didnât ask him out because he was a guy like that,â you say pointedly. âI asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldnât have asked anyone else out if it werenât him.â
Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. âYou really like him that much, huh?â
âIâm crazy about him.â His nose scrunches up like heâs been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. âCan you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably donât like itââ
Donghyuckâs chuckle is light and easy. âIâm not teasing him because I hate it; letâs be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. Iâve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.â
âThen why are youââ
âBecause heâs Mark.â A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. âAnd teasing him is my favorite thing to do.â
You shake your head; you canât help your amusement, but youâre not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isnât much you can say to change it either.
The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesnât aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. Thereâs barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose thereâs a measure of wit in that, but itâs also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide youâve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.
Heâs in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because heâs planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.
âMark!â The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.
âHey, you.â His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. âDid you have a busy afternoon?â
âUnfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?â
âI passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Designâs pretty dope.â He nods towards the elevator. âYou wanna head up for a little bit?â You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.
âHey. Canât you see weâre having a riveting conversation over here?â Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Markâs shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. âHave some respect.â
âIs the conversation so riveting that I canât take my girl for the evening at all?â
You mouth out a no, but Donghyuckâs flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Markâs hand away from your hair. âYeah, man. At least let us finish up.â
âWhatâs this even about?â
âHow Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,â Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Markâs jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you canât keep your voice straight because youâre adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. âOh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this â and he was giving her the bedroom eyes⌠I wouldnât have blamed her if she folded, honestly.â
âMark, no,â your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. Heâs slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dogâs gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. âHeâs just kiddingââ
âThen he got all close like thisââ Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Markâs face turn a violent shade of red you canât remember having seen from him before. âSpoke all low â you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? â
âHeâs just messing with you,â you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuckâs hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you canât inhale properly.
âAnd he said âyouâre the hottest chick Iâve ever seenââ then you know what he did, Markie?â
Mark doesnât respond; youâre not even sure if he can, considering his Adamâs apple is bobbing dangerously like heâs one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you donât know what else to do; you know Donghyuckâs teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but youâve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didnât involve a math problem or eating you out. âNo, really, nothing hapââ
You donât even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuckâs too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.
âOh, Jesus,â Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. âYour face is priceless, man.â
âNot funny,â Mark grumbles, and thereâs a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like itâs barely controlled.
âAlso not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.â Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. âSorry, sorry. I couldnât resist. Man, donât even worry. Sheâs downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her outââ
âAnyway.â Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like heâs worried youâll catch Donghyuckâs crazy. âIf thatâs all of itâŚâ
âYeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.â
Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuckâs earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesnât even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated âbyeâ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.
Itâs a slow elevator, given that itâs an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. Youâre not unaware of how tight Markâs grip is on your hand, but you donât comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, youâre raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.
âNothing happened.â You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. âHe was just messing with you because he thinks itâs funny.â
âYeah, I know.â Even if he says it like that, thereâs still lingering doubt in his voice. âWere you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didnât show up?â
You nod. âHe was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I canât believe he hasnât been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.â
âNo kidding.â
You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Markâs dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; youâve seen him all of two times, and it doesnât look like heâs here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that thereâs no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.
You work in relative silence; it isnât anything unusual since youâve done this a million times, and youâve come to learn that small talk isnât necessary when youâre just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But thereâs a weird aura around Mark that youâre not sure how to place; he doesnât seem like heâs mad, but there definitely seems to be something off â a problem, at least, that youâre not sure you know how to ask about.
So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.
âPizza or Chinese?â You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like youâve just woken him up from a dream. âYou okay?â
âYeah.â His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. âYeah, sorry.â
âWhatâs on your mind?â
âWe just had pizza, so Iâm thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.â
You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. âI mean, what are you thinking so hard about?â
âNothing.â His answerâs a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know heâs lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. âHe didnât ask you out, right?â
You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. âWhat would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.â
Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. Thereâs a red flush on his neck thatâs only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. âI know. I donât like it all the same. I hate⌠even thinking about it, actually.â
âReally â nothing happened. If you donât count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there â which Iâm sure youâd agree doesnât count as anything in favor of him.â
âI heard Jung Jaehyunâs kind of a playboy.â
âWhat does that have to do with me?â
âNothing. I donât know.â His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. âIt means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have â I donât know. In the end⌠I just worry.â
âDonât you trust me?â Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.
âNo â I mean, yes, absolutely. Itâs â I mean, itâs justââ He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. âI trust you, without a doubt. I donât trust other people â not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, orââ
âOr Donghyuck?â You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. âMark, you know heâs only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.â
âItâs not funny if itâs about you,â he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. âI know. Iâm trying to control it. Sometimes⌠I donât know why it gets under my skin. I guess itâs because it could happen â you⌠finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.â
âAnd if I said I hate it even more than you?â
His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way heâs running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until youâve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.
The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Markâs lips, and you hate that itâs all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until youâre realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.
Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm â short and firm.
âStop doing that.â
His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and whatâs left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. âStop being jealous? Iâm⌠Iâm trying.â
You shake your head. âStop being sexy when youâre jealous.â
The âwhatâ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, thereâs a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before heâs able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know â everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesnât know it.
Youâll never grow sick of the taste of him, youâre sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. Itâs familiar and comforting, and itâs only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is â the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.
You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoeverâs listening for the gift of Mark Lee.
âMark,â your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. âYou know, right?â
His âhmâ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and thereâs a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.
âIf it isnât you,â you whisper. âThen thereâs nobody else.â
You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like heâs trying â much too hard, and for no good reason â to stop himself from tipping over. You donât like that either; if heâs there, you think, you should take him over the edge.
âBut if you want them to know so badly, thenâŚâ You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. âWhy donât you go ahead and put your claim on me?â
You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. Thereâs a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way heâs handling you, but you feel it anyway â all of his tensionâs concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if heâs worried anything less will cause you to disappear.
âEvery time you worry, remember you can do this.â You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. âYouâre the only one that can.â
His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. âI know. Itâs just not fair.â
You hum in questioning, but he doesnât answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark heâd surely left, already starting up the same routine. Youâd let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. Itâs almost a mistake, seeing him like that â lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth heâd been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing â no, that isnât accurate.
A mouth made for you to kiss.
âWhatâs not fair?â You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.
âHow badly I keep wanting you,â he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. âAnd how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.â
His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like heâs careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but thereâs a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you heâs thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.
âI touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.â His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. âI think about kissing you and it feels like everyoneâs thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you donât know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When Iââ
He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesnât want to continue â doesnât want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you canât let it go. âTell me.â
âWhen I think about fucking you,â he breathes out, voice barely audible. âWhenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me⌠I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and itâs driving me crazy because⌠because they canât.â
Itâs there again, flashing in his eyes â a determination that reads almost like fury.
âThey canât,â he repeats, his voice firmer. âI wonât ever let them. Never.â
You donât stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does â the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and itâs harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.
âIt doesnât â doesnât matter,â you manage to whimper out. âHow many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.â
His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.
âGod, please,â he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. âPlease, tell me.â
âMark, Iâm yours.â Thereâs no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something youâre reinforcing as fact, something that canât ever change. âIâm always going to be yours â no one elseâs. Iâll never let anyone have anything thatâs yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. Iâll never say no to you. Only you â always you.â
You know somethingâs different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, theyâre tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear â feel â something there â a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before heâs carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.
Youâve been in Markâs room before, so thereâs absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesnât matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Markâs crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldnât want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you donât really know why heâs already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.
âNever,â he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. âIâm never going to let anyone take you, ever. Youâre all mine.â
His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark heâd left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. Youâre usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.
Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but itâs all he seems to need for now.
Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. Youâre unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they donât move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesnât take the hint â or, perhaps, the bait â keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work â the blooming dark patch youâre sure heâs left where your skin tingles the most.
âIf I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?â
âWhat makes you think I wouldnât ask for it?â
He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between âMarkâ and a sob.
âI want to, so badly.â He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. âIâd want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. Iâd want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And Iâd want you to say it proudly â that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.â
âWhy donât you?â His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. âI want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesnât believe you, too â how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.â
Another laugh escapes him, but thereâs more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.
âShow you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?â
âDo you not want to?â
âI want to, and I donât.â He pauses, slightly amused, and you know heâs remembering the first time you fucked. âI donât them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I donât want them to look at whatâs mine, but I just want them to know it is.â
âThen you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.â
He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; youâre bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.
âCanât.â He decides finally. âYouâre too pretty for that.â
You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesnât move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs â not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.
âWhat about something like this?â You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. Youâve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. âWould you let them watch me do this for you?â
âLet me think about it,â he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You donât have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.
âThink faster,â you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. âAre you telling me you wouldnât even want them to watch me jerk you off?â
âAt least give me a full minute.â
You laugh lightly, whispering a âfineâ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesnât need the lubrication, realistically; his precumâs already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.
Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one youâre always up for; thereâs something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you canât reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so â his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesnât stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and youâre not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.
You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; youâre grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. Itâs slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that youâre not really used to, but you donât care; Markâs sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.
The roomâs filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Markâs hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isnât guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he canât; he wants to feel like heâs fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.
Itâs relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize youâd been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.
âItâs⌠still a no for me.â
Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You donât want to ask; you just donât want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like heâs apologetic.
âEven just this â youâre too pretty when you do it.â His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. âI canât let anyone see what you look like when youâre like this. Theyâll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And youâd only do it for me â right?â
You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.
âGod, I wish you could see yourself; youâd know what I mean,â he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises youâre making. âHow pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when youâre kneeling like this for me â how happy you look when youâre sucking me off. I canât share that with anyone. Fuck â not ever.â
Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered âshitâ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until youâre finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.
His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.
âSo pretty,â he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. âPretty as hell, fucking perfect â and youâre all mine.â
You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves todayâs taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like youâve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.
His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; itâs like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if heâs worried itâll fade in a few minutesâ time if he doesnât give it attention.
âShow me.â Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. âShow me how pretty you are for me.â
His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.
You think heâs about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesnât happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. âPretty enough for you to fuck?â
âDo you have to ask if you already know?â
âI want to hear it anyway.â
His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesnât really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.
âYour pussyâs too pretty not to fuck,â he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. âSeeing it like this⌠makes me think thereâs no way anyone can resist. Itâs exactly why I canât let anyone see you like this.â
You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know itâs nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. âHow should we let them know, then? That Iâm all yours.â
His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance heâs in. Heâs grown quiet, but thereâs a thoughtfulness in this pause, like heâs seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him youâre just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You canât help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isnât completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.
âMark, whatââ
You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question â heâs tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen â excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.
Markâs silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesnât ask, but you can tell heâs wondering if heâs gone too farâ if you think heâs crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just canât know the smile that passes your face.
Finally, he tries to speak up. âWe donât have toâ I just meantââ
âWhatâs your passcode?â
He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. âYour birthday.â
Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you â you donât even remember when heâd taken it, but itâs a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. Itâs grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.
âWhatâs funny?â
âJust thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.â
âTo what?â He sounds bemused.
âThe view of me you have now.â
His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a âfuckâ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.
You open Markâs contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you donât recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesnât ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far youâre willing to take it, how much youâve bought into this crazy idea.
âMark,â you call out, and he hums in response. âYou trust me, donât you?â
âWith my life.â
âSo if I called Donghyuck right nowââ His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and youâre slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. âHow much of a show would you want to put on for him?â
He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget youâve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.
âJust⌠enough for him to know youâve always been mine.â
Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name â Lee Donghyuck â and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.
The wait feels like an eternity, with Markâs finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. âYo, Mark.â
His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and youâre willing to bet heâs in the middle of an action movie. Youâre proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.
âHi, Hyuck.â
â___________?â He sounds genuinely confused that itâs you that greets him. âWhereâs Mark? You okay?â
âHeâs right here with me; donât worry.â Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. âWeâre totally fine. What are you up to?â
âWatching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?â
You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesnât let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.
One moment, youâre listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuckâs side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you donât bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.
âHello?â
He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You canât help it; you laugh too, but itâs quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.
âNow, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?â
âYou kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,â you evade his question with another one. âShould I tell you why, if youâre that curious?â
âNo way. Have fun, weirdos,â he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.
You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but youâre distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuckâs name flashes across it.
You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you donât even get a âhelloâ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.
âBut pretending I am,â he says, as though he hadnât hung up the call a few seconds ago. âExactly what kind of answer would I get?â
âThe kind thatâll hopefully shut you up for good,â Mark pipes in instead of you.
âWhatâs that even going to sound like?â Already, Donghyuckâs activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Markâs buttons. This time, though, you canât say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. âI bet you canât even get her to yawn, man.â
Mark doesnât have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, itâs not something youâve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.
âYou okay?â He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuckâs still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know youâre being honest.
âFucking big, Mark.â You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. âYou donât like knowing heâs big?â
âI just hate that fucker,â Donghyuck quips back easily, but thereâs no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.
âWell, Iâm crazy about him,â you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. âIâm crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. Iâm crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when heâs inside me, how he stretches me out â fuckââ
Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you havenât fully adjusted, and youâre even tighter now from what youâre saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace â hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.
âMark,â you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know heâs there. âMark, fuck, it feels so goodââ
You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and itâs with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.
Youâre not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phoneâs speaker â labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and itâs all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.
âYouâre so fucking pretty,â he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. âIâll never get tired of how pretty you are â how pretty you always sound for me. Doesnât she sound pretty, Hyuck?â
âFucking pretty,â Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet âfuck me, harder, harder,â in response.
âCan you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?â Itâs almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Markâs addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attentionâs fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. âBent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?â
âIâm doing it right now.â
âItâs a thousand times better in person. Trust me.â
The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Markâs hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.
âMark, IâŚ. Iâve beenâ s-sinceââ
âNot yet,â he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. âHold out for me a bit, okay? Please. Itâs not enough. Not yet enough.â
You wonder if âenoughâ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isnât helping you stop it the way your body seems to think itâs supposed to. It also doesnât help that Markâs fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual â but not unpleasant â roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.
âHold on for me a little,â he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper âcanâtâ to him over and over. âDo it for me. Tell Donghyuck â tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.â
You donât even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.
âItâs not enough,â you echo â and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that itâs true. âNot enough â need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cockâ until no one else can fuck me but youââ
âWhat,â Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. âThe fuck.â
You donât have to explain; your babblingâs doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. Heâs jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Markâs cock. The change doesnât go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.
âHow much tighter can you get?â He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud â thereâs a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. âDoes it feel that good?â
âFuck, yes,â you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. âSo good Iâm going to lose my mind. Let me â God, please, let meââ
âNot yet,â Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort â a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you donât even really need. âJust a little more. I need to see it.â
âSee what?â Donghyuckâs voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your headâs light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. Youâve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.
His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, thereâs something triumphant in his gaze.
âFucking gorgeous,â he coos, so lovingly itâd be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldnât feel it yourself. âIâll never get enough of your perfect pussy â so perfect that it was made to take me.â
âSee what?â Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.
Your inhaleâs shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you donât ever break away from Markâs gaze, even as you speak.
âHis cock fucking me in my stomach.â
Donghyuckâs âJesus fucking Christâ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. Thereâs no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls thatâs constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.
Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. Youâre only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.
âGod, I need to feel it,â he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. âPlease â do it for me.â
Even with your brain muddled, you donât even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.
âThatâs my girl,â he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. âLove seeing my cock inside you.â
He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously canât feel his cock under your palms, but you donât have to anyway; the fitâs tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like heâs fucking your whole body, like heâs pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more â the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.
âLove feeling me inside you,â he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that heâs also barely hanging on. âLove seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.â
You mouth out a disbelieving âwhat the fuckâ that earns you a simple smile, but Markâs unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.
âDude, I wanna see it too,â Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. âPut her on video.â
âNo way,â comes Markâs swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. âThis is just for me.â
âSelfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.â
âThe point wasnât really ever to share.â
Markâs hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless â it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you canât escape anyway â not that you really want to, anyway.
âMark,â you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. âI canât anymore â I reallyââ
âI got you,â he murmurs â something youâve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. Heâll be here until you break, until you canât take anymore. âOne second, okay?â
âBro, what? Are you seriousââ Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesnât matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach â for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuckâs complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Markâs gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.
âCanât let him hear you cum,â he murmurs against your mouth. âThatâs only for me, isnât it?â
You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. âYouâre the only one Iâll cum for â the only one that can make me.â
Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.
âDo it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.â
You donât think itâs possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the windâs knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mindâs so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.
Mark still doesnât relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details youâve come to know so well â the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. Heâs close too, so close heâs just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You donât know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch â pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked â just to get him there.
âWill you mark me up one last time?â You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. âMark me â inside.â
His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. âIâ no, you know I canâtâŚâ
âDo you want to?â You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until youâre sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. âYou can, you know â make me yours, from the inside out.â
âGod â we canât; you know weâd be in so much trouble.â
âBut Iâd let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?â Your fingers toy with his, almost like youâre having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which heâs deep inside you, already aching for release. âFucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach â making sure no one else can fill me up?â
âJesus,â he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.
âThink about it,â you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. âAnd every time you do, remember one day, you will â because youâre the only one that can.â
He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and youâre met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.
âEven when you do that, youâre fucking pretty,â he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. âHow much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?â
He doesnât have to wait long to find out, and you donât have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too â the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.
When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; heâs breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.
A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesnât even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.
When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark heâd left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise thatâs already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.
âJust⌠canât get enough of you,â he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; itâs gentler, situated just under your jaw.
âYou donât ever have to think about having enough,â you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. âJust always think about having more.â
He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where youâre wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity â if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuckâs name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.
âSeriously,â he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.
âWe kind of left him hanging, to be fair.â
âNo fairness.â Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. âHe got more than he deserved today.â
You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle âbe right backâ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.
He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because itâs ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though thereâs already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.
You think itâs the last youâll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.
âOne day,â he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. âIâll really make you all mine.â
âDummy.â Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. âHow many times do I have to tell you?â
âEvery single day, considering Iâll never get tired of it.â
You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; itâs your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his â like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you â to make sure he wonât let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again â a truth, a fact, and a promise.
if mark isnât going to make a move on you himself, his friends will surely find a way to make one on his behalf. the opportunity arises after an evening of drinking at markâs apartment that lands you tangled in markâs sheets wondering if he feels the same chemistry that you do.
pairing: mark lee x reader
genre: fluff, suggestive !!MDNI!!
length: 4.9k
warnings: adults drinking alcohol and getting drunk, dialogue about sex, both reader and mark are drunk the entire time, mark is a pussy!
net tags: @kflixnet @k-labels
Drinking with the boys always led you into sketchy situations. There was the one time Haechan insisted on breaking into a waterpark to âvisit the mermaidsâ. Or the time that Renjun ordered a cab for all of you to go over to his ex-girlfriends house to win her back. Jaemin once threw up in the kitchen sink and didnât tell anyone until morning.
So, yeah, drinking with the boys always led you down odd roads and tonight wouldnât be any different.
âOkay!â You exclaim drunkenly, head previously falling forward as you dozed in your spot.
âWhich one of you gentlemen are going to drive me home?â Your eyes lazily trail across the room at the boys all scattered about in various positions.
âUh, Iâm not good to drive,â Mark says and shoves his thumb into Jenoâs shoulder to ask âyou good to drive?â Which earns him a shake of his head.
The rest of the group reacts now, all to let you know that none of them were sober enough to be behind the wheel.
âOkayâŚâ you drag out the word and pull out your phone to open the rideshare app and struggle to type in your apartmentâs address.
âUber is $65.â You say bluntly, again scanning your eyes around the room expectedly. When you donât get a response, you speak up again.
âThis is the part where you say âOh, here Y/N, weâve got it.ââ You tease and Haechan just rolls his eyes and groans.
âJust stay over. Itâs fine, you can take the couch.â
âI call dibs on the couch.â Chenleâs voice is muffled from where his nose is nuzzled in the cushions. Youâre genuinely surprised that heâs still breathing. Youâre not too sure how, though, heâs buried pretty deep. Heâs clearly not about to move any time soon.
âFine, you can sleep with Mark.â Haechan says, hand signaling to the boy who was too distracted by his phone to keep up with the conversation until his name was spoken.
âWait, dude, what?â Mark exclaims, his wide and glossy eyes switching between you and Haechan quickly. His drunk brain can barely keep up.
You hear a snicker from over your shoulder, âThatâs a good idea, Y/N, why donât you sleep with Mark?â Jaeminâs hand sits lazily on your shoulder.
You frown, a little too drunk to pick up the pieces and put them together.
âYeah, thatâs a great idea.â Jeno says, his own giggle escaping his lips. The two aforementioned boys had smoked earlier, leading to a fit of giggles shared between the two.
âWhy is this a better idea than walking her home?â Mark panics, watching you slowly absorb all thatâs going on around you. It doesnât seem like youâve picked up on how obvious the boys are being and heâs thankful for that.
âItâs cold out and weâre all tired. Just take one for the team and let her sleep in your bed.â Haechan argues. Heâs getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Mark has been complaining for weeks about his crush on you, and the moment that Haechan finally does something about it, Mark protests?
âWhere will I sleep?â Mark stupidly asks and Haechanâs head falls back onto the couch when he rolls his eyes.
âWith her, Mark.â He says with a frustrated tone, his eyes shut and squeezed.
Before Mark can object again, you finally put the pieces together and move to stand, nearly falling into Jaeminâs lap behind you in the process.
âCome on, Mark.â You say, your hand is out in offering for Mark to grab. His slow brain goes a bit numb, too focused on the gold ring on your middle finger. He hadnât noticed you wear it before.
When he doesnât move fast enough, Haechan groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing Markâs arm by the wrist and placing his hand on yours.
âI have to do fucking everything around here, donât I?â Haechan says to the group, excluding you two who have already begun your drunken trek to Markâs bedroom.
The vibe is much different when youâre in his room behind a closed door. He keeps his room tidy usually, but his unmade bed and loose bath towel on the floor suggest he wasnât anticipating company. You prefer it this way, it makes you feel less like a guest. Especially when youâre about to use his bedroom as a hotel, nonetheless.
It also helps when his ruffled sheets make his bed look all the more inviting and comfortable. You flop your belly down, snuggling into his pillow. It smells faintly of tea tree shampoo and musk. You wonder when the last time he washed his sheets was, but you arenât sure you want to know the answer. It smells like itâs been quite a while but youâre too drunk to care.
âYou want some clothes?â He says from his standing position. He wasnât expecting to see you so⌠comfortable. You look as if youâre at home in his bed.
He canât believe it. Youâre here in his bed. Sure, youâve been in his room a million times, youâve sat on his bed a million times, youâve even cuddled with Mark on his bed a million times. But this time is different. Youâre sleeping here, youâre going to wake up here, youâre going to be lying side by side with Mark for a minimum of 8 hours and heâs not sure heâll be able to hold it together that long.
âNo,â you say looking down at your athletic shorts and crop top. You werenât wearing a bra, anyways. âA toothbrush would be nice, though.â
He scurries off to the adjoined bathroom and rifles through his drawers quickly, praying that heâd have at least one clean spare toothbrush.
âUnless, of course, all your hoes have used all of them.â You tease. You arenât quite sure where that comment came from or why you felt compelled to say it but it has an effect on Mark as he stills for a moment before continuing his search. He finds one and walks back over to where youâre still lying on the bed.
âMy hoes donât ask for toothbrushes.â He says in half-honesty. Itâs true, no girls have ever asked him for a spare toothbrush. Sure, thatâs due to the fact that heâs never had a girl stay over before, but itâs still the truth nonetheless.
âEw. Good to know I donât have much competition then. At least I have basic hygiene.â You say, already loading up the toothbrush with his toothpaste.
His brain goes haywire at the comment. Does what you said mean what he thinks it means? Why are you including yourself on the list of Markâs âhoesâ? Do you want to be one? His only one?
Once youâre done, Mark has already changed into his outfit for bed. Heâs hesitant on whether or not to wear a shirt. For your comfortability he probably should, but youâve never been bothered by his bare chest before in all the times youâve been over. What would make this time any different?
He decides against it as he gets himself ready for bed, trading spots in the bathroom when you go back to bed. His heart is beating out of his chest, which is saying a lot for how much the alcohol still present in his system has relaxed him.
Heâs equally thankful for and also angry at Haechan for the stunt he pulled to get you into his room. Heâs wanted this for a long time, thats no surprise, but is this how he wanted it? He wants you to know that youâre special to him, is a drunken night sleeping in the same bed enough to tell you that? His head is spinning and it comes to a halt when he sees you lying in his bed on your phone waiting for him to come to bed.
You look natural there, like youâve always belonged.
âIâll be right back.â He panics and runs out of the room before you can acknowledge him.
He sulks out into the living room once his door is shut behind him where all the boys still remain. Only Haechan and Jeno are still awake, playing some video game on the TV.
He plops down on Haechanâs left, careful not to sit on Chenleâs knee which Haechan is resting his back against.
âHowâs it going in there?â Jeno asks and Mark groans in response, pouring himself his final shot and downing it quickly. The burning sensation in his esophagus is a welcomed distraction from the flurry of thoughts in his head.
âI donât know what you want, Mark, honestly.â Haechan says, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.
âI know, I know. I just want her to know that sheâs special to me and not just another girl.â Mark groans, playing with the idea of pouring himself a second nightcap shot.
âDid you tell her that?â Haechan says like itâs obvious.
âSheâs drunk, Hyuck.â Mark counters, deciding finally to pour himself another shot of the room temperature liquor. Mark is drunk too, so heâs not too sure why that factor matters right now.
âDid you try telling her?â Haechan repeats himself, earning a shoulder check from Jeno.
âWhat heâs trying to say is that itâs in your hands at this point. You know what you want and you know how to do it. You just need to grow the balls and get it done.â Jeno says and Haechan leans his shoulder on Jenoâs shoulder to signify a quick hug in thanks.
Mark doesnât move up from his position in an act of procrastination, and Chenle, who Mark previously thought was sleeping, kicks Mark swiftly in the lower back to force him to his feet.
âGo before she falls asleep and you lose your shot again.â Chenle says, head still buried deep in the cushions.
âHow the fuck are you breathing, dude?â Mark asks dumbfounded.
âHe has his ways.â Haechan responds, an arm wrapping around Markâs hips to shove him out of the way of the TV screen.
Clearly, Mark is no longer welcomed out in the living room with his friends, so he moves back to his room with you, quietly opening the door in case you had fallen asleep.
You havenât, of course. Youâre far too concerned about Mark to relax long enough to fall asleep.
âIf you want me to go home I can just get the Uber itâs fine.â You say the moment Mark walks through the door.
Fuck, he thinks to himself. He canât even have one second to think.
âNo, you can stay.â He says, heading back into the bathroom to brush his teeth again after the two shots he took.
âYou just seem a little off, so I donât want to make you uncomfortable. Itâs no big deal, really.â You say, already moving to stand up out of his bed, moving at a much slower pace than normal due to the alcohol still in your system.
âNo, please, stay.â He says, walking over to your spot, essentially blocking you from standing.
Your face still doesnât seem convinced so he shares the truth in the best way he knows how, âI want you to stay.â
You still donât seem fully convinced, but you lie back down anyways and wait for Mark to join you. Heâs stalling at this point, moving around the room and unplugging every socket he can see.
âBig fire hazard guy?â You tease from your position in bed, his pillow parallel to your chest where your head lies. Thereâs something about the hopeful anticipation in your eyes that makes Markâs head spin.
Or maybe itâs the alcohol. Probably the alcohol.
He laughs dryly, finally laying down next to you. His head is flat against the mattress, blocking your view of his face from your position atop the pillow beneath you.
âOh, here, you want it?â You say, offering him the pillow. Mark chastises himself internally for only owning one pillow.
âNah, you take it, you need one too.â Mark waves you off and adjusts to bend his arm behind his head, resting on his forearm.
You think for a moment before replying, âWell⌠youâre here arenât you?â
âWh-â Markâs question is cut short by you sitting up, placing the pillow beneath his head, and then laying your own head on his chest.
He hopes you canât hear his heartbeat when you ask, âIs this ok?â
He, very boldly in his opinion, responds by wrapping his arms around your body. One over your shoulders and one around your waist. Thank you, alcohol!
âJust peachy.â He says, voice cracking.
His limbs are still stiff around you, but you donât mention it as you sit up one final time to flip the light switch by the door.
You feel him jolt when you lie your head on his chest again. You feel like rolling your eyes at his dramatics.
âSeriously, Mark, I can go home.â You say, gauging his level of discomfort by the stiffness of his limbs and the sound of his breath that heâs clearly attempting to get under control.
âNope.â Is all he says as he wraps his arms around you tighter and pulls you in. A beat passes as you feel his muscles relax beneath your head.
âYouâre confusing, Mark Lee.â Is your message of acceptance as your fingers find his collarbone, tracing circles around it and scratching into the caverns gently.
He scoffs at your words, âIâm confusing?â
âWell, you say you want me here but youâre clearly uncomfortable.â You retort. He just wishes you would let the conversation settle. Heâs trying his hardest.
âIâm not uncomfortable.â Itâs a half truth and he knows it, but heâll say anything to get you to shut up.
âWhenâs the last time you had a girl in your bed?â You ask and thankfully you canât see him roll his eyes in the darkness.
âA while.â He swallows. He can tell where this is going and he doesnât like it.
âYou couldâve just said that!â You say with a soft, almost condescending, tone as you coo, digging your head further into his chest.
âItâs not that. You think you have me all figured out but you donât, so just drop it please? Letâs go to sleep.â Mark pulls you even closer at that and itâs your turn to stiffen.
âIâm sorry,â you whisper into his pec and he sighs, the hand around your waist holding you tighter.
âItâs fine, just settle down.â He says and you try your best, but your mind is now running a mile a minute.
What the hell did that mean? If you arenât making him uncomfortable, and if it isnât that heâs just out of practice, then what is it? Why is your best friend acting so weird?
Your mind canât help itself but say, âAre you drunk?â
âVery. You?â He says honestly. You smile against his bare chest.
âVery.â You giggle and he does too, his hand traveling down your body to grab at the back of your knee to hoist your leg to rest over his. The ice has been clearly broken as he relaxes into the new position.
You nuzzle in closer to his chest, your hands continuing to explore the dips and curves of his shoulder.
âDid you drink more when you went out there?â You ask, not really wanting to go to bed just yet. You have an odd feeling that your night isnât over.
âYep.â He pops the âpâ sound. He canât tell if youâre prying to try and collect information or if your drunk brain is truly just curious, so he keeps his answers brief.
You giggle out your question, âWhy?â
âYou donât usually have this many questions.â He deflects, but you catch him.
âYou donât usually avoid answering.â You retort and he sighs, chest rising and falling slowly below your head. Itâs a nice feeling, you think.
Youâre anticipating an answer, but he doesnât give you one. Frowning, you move your head so that your chin rests on his chest, your eyes level with his cheek from where heâs lying back. He looks down at you in the dark of the room to notice your impatient stare.
âJust needed a little extra liquid courage, thatâs it.â He shrugs and you frown deeper. That answer just gave you more questions than answers.
âBut-â he cuts you off.
âJust let it go, please.â He begs, his voice genuinely sounding desperate. Usually you have a free pass to tease Mark, but something is different about him tonight so you donât pester him any further. You lie your head back down over his chest and continue to stroke his shoulder lazily. You seem to be getting more and more comfortable with each other here, which pleases you.
He appreciates the gesture, clearly, as the hand that was previously around your waist travels back down to your leg to grab a large handful softly, his thumb stroking over the side of your thigh near your knee gently.
Itâs a nice moment, you think, and before your brain can tell you otherwise, your lips are puckering to leave a gentle kiss to his bare skin beneath your head. His breath hitches softly at that, so you move your head gently away from the spot to rest your forehead against his chin.
Truth be told, you arenât quite sure why you did it. You and Mark have cuddled a million times before, but youâve never kissed him. Youâve never even given him a cheek kiss as a greeting. Your lips have never touched Mark Lee, but for some reason tonight you felt compelled to. It was innocent and short enough that you could pretend it didnât happen at all.
You can feel Mark slowly turning his head, your heart beating at a mile a minute at the sheer unknown of how he will react.
Just as your mind begins to conjure up rejection scenarios, you feel something.
His lips make contact with your forehead, his warm breath fanning over the top of your hair as he stays in his position, gentle lips kissing your forehead. You hold back a gasp, and your heart picks up pace. He still hasnât moved, which youâre thankful for, as you absorb the feeling and attempt to process your emotions quickly.
That was a move.
That was a move.
Mark is making moves on you. Do you want him to? You canât lie and say you havenât thought about him romantically before. Heâs your best friend, heâs seen your lowest and your highest and heâs stuck around through it all. Heâs also undoubtedly attractive and your type. But youâve never imagined him in this context.
But you wouldnât want to take advantage of him. This is Mark youâre talking about here. There is no âcasual funâ with him. Whatever is happening is already changing the course of your friendship, do you want to keep it going and take it further?
He doesnât give you the opportunity to decide before his hand finds your chin, pulling up to signal that he wants you to look at him. You comply, of course, with probably too much ease.
His eyes dart between your two as he tries to read you. He wants this. He knows he wants this. What he doesnât know, though, is whether or not you want this too.
âAre you too drunk to know what youâre doing?â He whispers and you can feel the air from his words hit your lips and it only makes you want him more.
âNo.â You whisper back meekly, your eyes trained to his lips. Heâs never looked so kissable. In fact, youâve never even considered the idea of kissing Mark. Now that youâre here, though, you canât believe itâs not crossed your mind before. You want him so bad that it feels like youâve wanted him forever.
Your answer was clearly all he needed to brush his lips over yours. It feels like the wind is knocked out of you as you lie there, not even pursing your lips, just allowing him to adjust to the feeling of being so close with you.
The moment is beautifully intimate, you wonât lie, but youâre feeling a bit impatient and if Mark spends any more time cherishing the moment rather than seizing it you may combust. So you take the next step and officially slot your lips over his, your hand coming up to grab at his jaw to keep him steady on you. He reacts without hesitation, kissing you back with as much force as youâre giving him.
The kiss is remarkable in all the ways that it truly isnât. Thereâs no sparks or fireworks, and it takes you a while to get into a rhythm. Your teeth knock his a few times and you both miss the opportunities to insert your tongues into each others mouths. Itâs almost laughable how bad the kiss is from a black and white perspective, but youâre satisfied. Because, above all else, the kiss is natural and it feels right.
Once youâve found your rhythm though, youâre fully emerged in the feeling. Heâs a slower kisser than you thought he would be, clearly still attempting to savor the moment with everything in him, and you let him.
Itâs nice, you think, being here like this. Every first kiss youâve had has spurred an emotional rollercoaster inside of you. Youâre typically too preoccupied with doing the right thing, looking hot enough, memorizing the other personâs likes and dislikes, and thinking about the future when you kiss someone. Kissing Mark is different. You arenât full of worries, youâre simply enjoying it. A part of you tries to pin it on the comfortability that comes with being as close friends as you are, but another part of you thatâs been hiding for a long time tells you otherwise.
Your adrenaline spikes at the thought, and it spurs you to make the next move to straddle across his waist. He reacts instantly, his hands finding your hips as he kisses you harder.
You like Mark, you realize. Perhaps your heart is a little behind your head as youâre already kissing him, but the realization sparks something in you nonetheless.
âIâve wanted to do this for a long time,â he admits when his lips leave yours to trail down your neck. You arenât sure if Mark is intending to bring the heat up, but itâs working when he finds that one spot near your carotid.
You hum, hand threading in his hair to keep him close. You love this. You love this moment. You never want it to end.
As if he hates you, Markâs mouth leaves your neck to look at you to do precisely that.
âAre we doing this?â He says and youâre startled by his honesty and boldness. Is this the same Mark who was too scared to even sleep in the same bed as you?
âDefine this.â You ask. Itâs a valid question, he has to say, but heâs not bold enough to say it by name. Sure, he can grow a pair when he absolutely needs to, but his natural instinct is to quietly observe the other person, not be observed himself.
He doesnât respond with words, but with an action much more bold than he realizes when his hands find your hips again and move you down to rest over his crotch. Heâs not hard yet, but you still get the gist of what heâs trying to say. A gasp escapes you, earning a coy smile from the man below you.
âI take that as a yes?â He teases and you arenât given the opportunity to respond before he sits up fully, meeting you in your sitting position to wrap both his arms around you tightly as he kisses you again.
Now the kiss is hot. His hands are busy all over your body, lighting fire in its path. You moan encouragingly into his mouth when his hands graze the underside of your breast. He catches the message quickly and moves his hand higher to officially grab you, both of you moaning at the contact. Your mouths connect sloppily, and you begin to feel a poke from underneath you.
It takes all the self control in your body to slow things down, but you owe it to Mark to talk about this.
You say his name into his mouth quietly, which he interprets as a moan, and responds with his own groan right back.
âMark,â you say a little more firmly this time, your hands finding his shoulders to signal that you have something to say.
âAre you sure?â You ask and his previously anxious eyes soften.
âAre you?â He retorts and you roll your eyes deliberately at him.
âI asked you first, idiot.â You say and he smiles, bringing you in for a hug, his nose finding the crevice between your neck and shoulder. You can feel him relax below your fingers when you hug him back, your hands threading into his hair. The moment from before is long gone, but you prefer this.
You smile from your position on his lap. This is easy, you think. Much easier than it ever has been. It almost scares you how natural this feels with him, but you donât allow your brain to indulge in the anxiety of it all. Youâll happily wait as long as Mark needs to give you an answer if heâs holding you like he is now.
âIâm sure that I want you, if thatâs what youâre asking.â He says and it makes you smile again. Heâs trying to get you to say it first. Your best friend has never been very sly, although he likes to think of himself that way.
âThat is what I asked, but thatâs not what I meant.â You say, throwing the ball back into his court.
All this back and forth is giving you a headache. Under any other circumstance youâd have been fed up with all the pussyfooting and made an actual move, but you want to give Mark the chance to say what he needs to say. You have a feeling that he needs the floor more than you do.
âI want to fuck you, but I donât think it would mean the same thing to you as it does to me.â He says finally and you melt at his indirect confession, holding him tighter and slightly swaying your bodies side to side.
âThen ask.â You say simply, still not taking the power he clearly wants you to. Heâs used to you being the bolder one, heâs never had to fight with you to get you to offer your mind.
âYouâre making this really difficult for me, arenât you?â He jokes and you let out a genuine laugh, kissing the crown of his head once youâre done.
âYouâd regret letting me take the lead.â You read him honestly and he scans his brain for a conflict, but youâre right. He would regret it.
âYou know me so well.â He says, resigned acceptance on his voice as his hand rubs wide circles into your back.
âI know, thatâs why you like me so much.â You snark and Mark leans back to look you in the face with a shocked expression of offense.
âYou said youâd let me take the lead!â He whines and you giggle, hand coming to rest on his cheek.
âYouâre taking too long.â You attempt to justify yourself.
âI wanted to tell you.â He pouts and you move to grab the other side of his face with your other hand.
âYou still can.â You gently inform him, quieting down and looking deep into his eyes.
You had anticipated a confession right then and there, but he continues to stare back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head and you roll your eyes once more in faux annoyance, a teasing smile on your lips.
âNow, Mark.â You taunt with a giggle and he breaks out into nervous laughter, leaning away from your hands and you let him go hesitantly, resting your hands back on his bare shoulders.
He clears his throat and averts his eyes to the bedpost as he gathers his thoughts. Itâs cute, you think, how flustered he is. All of this drama for you? Mark is this nervous to confess to you? Youâre not a self conscious girl by any means, but you feel a little out of bounds by the idea that Mark Lee is flustered over you.
Heâs amazing. Why doesnât he think that you would notice that about him? Why does he look like heâs preparing himself for rejection right now? Does he really think of you that highly? Or worse, does he think of himself that low?
He clears his throat once more, saying your name quietly and grabbing your hands in his. You feel as if a bit more distance has been put between you now as youâre no longer holding him, but you allow him to guide.
âIâve been into you for a while,â He says, taking in a sharp breath after the phrase is out. Although you were expecting to hear it, actually being in the moment feels more intense than you thought it would be. Your toes curl in anxiety as you attempt to keep your cool.
âand Iâm sorry I didnât tell you before I kissed youâ that I genuinely blame on the alcoholâbut this is all me.â He says with a sigh at the end. If the confession had been pretty, it wouldnât have been Markâs. But you love it all the same.
A smile slowly creeps over your face as you look at him through your eyelashes. You donât want your reaction to influence him, you want him to fully own this moment.
âSay something please.â He says with a cute impatient lilt to his voice that makes you laugh.
Your poker face, if you even had one in the first place, slips when you open your mouth to respond.
âMark, Iâve been into you for⌠wellâŚ. not that long,â you say and he laughs in response, hopeful eyes and expectant smile on his face.
âbut this is all me, too. I swear if I had known before I wouldâve done something before.â You draw an x with your finger over your heart and Mark grabs your hand and presses a gentle kiss to your fingertip. Your heart melts as he grabs your hand with his two and draw them down to his chest.
âI like that you let me.â Mark says, leaning in as if he was about to kiss you. You smile, tilting your chin to meet him.
âThank you.â He whispers before meeting your lips together in a sweet kiss.
i wrote this all in one day and only proofread it twice so if it sucksâŚ. uhâŚ.. yeah! if you did enjoy my little brain dump of a story, please reblog and send feedback! your engagement means waaayyy more to me than you realize.
you donât know how it happened, but it did. mark lee had you exactly where he wanted you. when you had agreed to the whole friends with benefits thing, you were certain that neither of you would catch feelings. unfortunately, you were terrible at making any predictions, and the both of you were in too deep. like waaaay too deep.Â
however, it took you longer than youâd like to admit to realize that.Â
it isnât until you find yourself seated on the edge of his bed, a small pout decorating your features, that you realize thereâs no going back. he had run off to his roommateâs room, who was thankfully out of town this weekend, in search of a condom. you had argued that it was unnecessary. you suffered through the noise of your daily birth control alarm for a reason, but it was like your words had fallen on deaf ears because he was gone instantly.Â
which left you on his bed, pants long gone. the fucker even had the nerve to take your underwear with him; he thought he was slick, but you had seen the black lace sticking out of his pockets.Â
âif you want my panties, you just have to ask.â the unspoken words danced on the tip of your tongue as he disappeared from the room. you knew that if you had decided to tease the male, you would be left unattended to. so you spared him this once, leaning back onto your hands as you watched him leave the room. he was going to pay for this.Â
when he returns to the room, your top is gone. youâre left in nothing but your bra and a new pair of panties that you had grabbed from the drawer of things you left at his place. you hadnât imagined you would need it because mark was a little panty thief, but it was always better to be safe rather than sorry.Â
and the only sorry person in that room was mark lee.Â
the second he processes whatâs happening, heâs on his knees in front of you. your legs are crossed at the ankle, but it does nothing to hide you from his hungry gaze. in fact, from his position from the floor, mark can see that your second pair of underwear are just as ruined as the first pair were. and theyâre in a shade of blue that makes him dizzy. nothing better than you in his favorite color.Â
âyou look so pretty,â he starts, his hands running up your thighs. âplease donât be mad at me baby.âÂ
you ignore his words, using your foot to put pressure on the evident bulge in his pants. it was obvious the man had found some sort of sweet relief from his own rampant imagination in the time that he had disappeared from the room: the dampness on the front of his sweats was proof enough.Â
âpretty please,â he all but moans. the mere thought of you waiting for him on his bed had precum staining his boxers, and the pressure you were applying to his throbbing dick was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.Â
when his head falls onto your thigh, his hips involuntarily bucking against your foot, you know you have him exactly where you want him.Â
âyou canât cum until iâve cum twice,â you say, placing a finger under his chin to catch his eye. âyou can do that for me, right?â your words are dripping in false sweetness, and if anything, it makes mark want you even more. he nods eagerly; the grip he has on your thighs tightens, and youâre positive heâs left marks already.
all it takes is a small tap on his jaw, and mark jumps into action.Â
those blue panties of yours end up in his other pocket in a matter of seconds, and mark lee keeps his promise on making you cum twice before he does.
âYo, thereâs my favorite superstar,â You say, wandering into the room full of clothes and racks. On one hand, you have some flowers, and on the other, you have a watermelon cake.
âY/n? Dude, what.â You look at Mark's surprised face as he drops the chopsticks he just had in his hand.
âWhat? Werenât expecting me? You know how I am with surprises, dude,â You walk over to where he is sitting and place the cake on the table.
âThese are for you, Fork,â you shove the flowers into his hands. Not just any flowers, though.
âYo, you got me tulips?â He mumbles.
âDuh, what else would I get you?â You watch as Mark places the tulips on the seat next to him and gets up.
âBring it in, dude,â He pats his chest and spreads his arms out to signal you to hug him. You roll your eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck.
âCongratulations or whatever. You guys completed your tour,â Mark pats your back and lets go.
âYeah, Iâm a bit sad itâs over, but Iâll be on the road again soon enough,â
You squint at Mark. âYou better rest up. I donât want you calling me at 3 am like last time because you got sick and insisted on staying up to write.â
âAy, itâs all part of the job, man,â He shrugs. Youâre about to mention something else when the door opens.
âY/n, youâre here! Johnny told me you were around here somewhere,â You hear someone say in a baby voice. Arms unexpectedly engulf you from behind.
âHey, Donghyuck, long time no see,â You say as you try to signal Mark for help.
âDude, let her go. She can't breathe,â Haechan lets go and goes to stand next to Mark.
âI told you not to call me Donghyuck,â
âI know, but I like making you mad,â You stick your tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes.
âYou guys are literally children, like wow,â Mark blinks.
âYou know, Mark, itâs funny that you call us children when you were crying last night saying Y/n wasnât gonna make it to the con-â Markâs hand suddenly flies to Haechanâs mouth.
âYo, what? Haha, what are you even saying, dude,â You watch as Haechan licks Markâs palm. âYO, what the hell, man,â He exclaims while shoving Haechan away from him.
âDonât be embarrassed, Marker. Iâm your number one fan. Iâd never miss it for the world,â You wink at him.
âShut up,â
âHey, what about me? I love you more than Mark. I thought we were best friends,â
âWhat? Of course not. Y/n is my best friend, not yours.â
âY/n, choose. Me or mark?â You watch as they continue to argue over whoâs better. When youâre friends with Mark Lee, you have a lot in store for you.
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Heyy!! Could you pls do yandere! Idol Mark that makes life hell for reader who works in the same company after she rejected him?
The first time you had denied him, you had thought he had asked as a joke.
You had overheard the boys discussing something about which staff members theyâre closest to, and which ones they thought were the most attractive. Having been working on a few tasks at the time, you were content to ignore them as they joked about. That is, until your name was brought up.
Looking over to them, you thought they were trying to get your attention for something to do with the tasks you had been assigned. Only, most of the members had averted their gazes when you turned to look at them. Except for Mark.
That's when he asked you. That's when you denied him.
The boys seemed to have a field day at the visible pout that now tugged at Mark's features, teasing him about how 'smooth' he really is.
What you failed to notice, however, was the way his gaze lingered on your form as you left the room.
The second time he asked you, the two of you were alone.
Mark cornered you in the hall after he had finished filming an upcoming promotion for the group while the others were still working on their own parts. No one was around to hear you this time, but still, you denied him.
As soon as the words left your lips, his expression fell just like the first time. Only now, there seemed to be a bit of annoyance on his features. So, instead of waiting around, you left him standing by himself in that hallway, wondering what on earth he was doing wrong, and just how you could deny him so easily.
Didn't you know how much he loved you by now? He didn't treat any of the other staff with the same familiarity that he treats you with. Hell, you're the only one he lets near him half the time. Yet, he still couldn't stop the biggest thought that kept flitting through his mind: there was someone else. There had to be, otherwise you wouldn't keep denying him like this. Right?
Wrong.
The third time he asked you, he had called you into the dance studio stating he needed a supervisor while a few of the members practiced. Of course, as soon as you walked into the dimly lit room to see that he was the only one waiting for you, you knew something was wrong.
Mark had planned out everything: the music that would be playing in the background when you walked in, the angle of the blanket he placed on the floor so the two of you could sit and talk almost like a picnic, as well as the bouquet of your favourite flowers he hand picked for you held nervously in his hands. Your wide-eyed look was worth every second he spent fretting over the special outfit he would wear, and he could feel his heart racing within his chest as you turned to look at him.
"What's all this?" Your voice nearly had brought him to his knees right then and there.
He would do anything for you, and this, right here, proves it.
"I'm serious about you," he begins, and fuck, he doesn't even think he was this nervous when he debuted. "I've always liked you, and I've always wanted you. Please, do me the honour of becoming mine?"
Again, you just stand there, blinking at him in shock. For a moment, Mark begins to wonder if he actually didn't say those words out loud, or if he stuttered, or if he made himself look like a fool again in front of you like he so often does.
"Listen, Mark," you notice a shiver run down his spine when you say his name, and you frown. "You seem like a pretty decent guy, but don't you think this has gone far enough?"
This time, it's Mark's turn to blink at you, confusion pulling at his features.
"I know you guys have a bet going on how many staff members you can sleep with." You reply bluntly, crossing your arms. "I'm not looking to be kicked out of a job once you get what you want."
Mark is silent, completely caught off guard by your words. Of course he remembers that stupid bet, but that was two years ago, before he even met you. He's most certainly not the same person then as he is now. Hell, he hasn't even looked at another person since meeting you.
"You've got it all wrong-"
"Save it." You cut him off with a raise of your hand. "This is a lot, really, but I'm not the one who will appreciate it."
Turning around, you go to leave. That is, until you hear something being tossed onto the ground and a hand grabbing at your wrist. Before you know it, Mark has wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he clings onto you seemingly for dear life.
"What will it take for you to see that I'm serious about you?" His voice is low, and even though you know he's pleading with you, his tone does not reflect the desperation you feel in his grip.
"Mark, let me go."
"No." His grip tightens. "Not until you tell me what I can do to make you mine."
"If this is how you treat every person that rejects you, no wonder you don't have a significant other." You know your words are harsh, but you're hoping that they're the slap of reality he needs to let you go.
"I only want you." He replies. "It's always been you."
"Mark-"
"I know!" He cuts you off, almost as if he's now in his own little world. "We just need to spend more time together. Then you'll see just how perfect I am for you; how perfect we are for each other."
"I don't think that's such a good idea-"
"Great!" He completely ignores your comment, resting his head on your shoulder. "Starting now, you're never leaving my side."
Heâs very observant when it comes to you, Mark likes to know where you are at least even if youâre not by his side, he doesnât want to push you, but he certainly at least wants the comfort of knowing youâre safe.
B â´ BICKER
The two of you bickering doesnât happen too often, you usually only bicker if it really feels like the right thing to do. Most of the time it will be over stupid things that you can both be incredibly stubborn over, such as whoâs going to foot the bill for dinner or whoâll have to pick up the snacks for you both.
C â´ COMFORT
Whenever youâre having a hard time, Mark is right there with you he never leaves you alone. You often try and tell him not to worry, knowing how busy he is, but that never stops Mark being there for you, knowing that he can always set work aside for a little while when it comes to being there for you and supporting you.
D â´ DISAGREEMENTS
The two of you have a pretty good understanding of one another, and so disagreements between the two of you are rare. You both know how to make each other tick so youâre usually very careful with how you speak and act to make sure that you donât end up winding each other up. Your disagreements come to a natural end when they do happen as neither of you really know quite how to fix things.
E â´ EARLY YEARS
Both of you found yourselves getting alone really quickly which was the sign that you needed to know that you were going to be close. You just got chatting and the conversation never seemed to spot every time the two of you met up with each other. It was that which made Mark more and more keen to see you every single time because he loved how easy it all felt, even when you were getting to know each other.
F â´ FAMILY
Markâs family absolutely loved you, knowing the Mark had someone like you in his life meant a tremendous lot to all of them. They worried about him a lot being so far away from him, but they knew that if they ever needed anything doing for him that they could ask you and youâd do it. Even when they flew over to surprise him, you were the middleman who helped them organise it all unbeknownst to Mark.
G â´ GETTING TOGETHER
When the two of you hung out you would usually just explore, walks were often your go to as they gave you plenty of space to talk and catch up. You loved being outside and enjoying the peace and quiet, but most of all you enjoyed being able to share your stories and jokes that you wanted the other to know.
H â´ HABITS
The two of you had a habit of talking about the other person, even sometimes when the conversation had absolutely nothing to do with them. Mark just found himself somehow relating everything back to you, and you did the same for him, even if the people that you were with didnât want to hear about it.
I â´ INSIDE JOKES
Whenever the two of you got together there was plenty of laughter, which led to plenty of inside jokes. You always remembered the ones especially that tickled the both of you, the ones that would leave you both complaining that your sides hurt when you eventually managed to compose yourselves again.
J â´ JEALOUSY
There werenât many times when Mark would get jealous, at least to the faces of your other friends he was polite and respectful. He would keep his opinions to himself most of the time, but if there was a friend that particularly rubbed him up the wrong way, Mark would make sure to mention it to you so that you knew to try and keep him away from that friend and watch yourself around them as well.
K â´ KICKS
Mark got a kick out of seeing you do well, although he was your best friend, he was also your biggest fan. He loved nothing more than when you text him to tell him that you had good news or something exciting to share with him. No matter how big or small it was, he always encouraged you with your news.
L â´ LOVE
He loved how big his smile was whenever he spent time with you. Mark felt settled whenever he was with you and knew that whenever he was with you that it was going to be a good time. The two of you worked alongside one another perfectly, so even when the two of you were doing next to nothing when you hung out, because of how well you got along together you still managed to feel content and happy.
M â´ MEETING
The two of you first met when you had to sit at Markâs table in the coffee store because it was so busy. He invited you to sit down so that you werenât just stood around waiting for a spare table to pop up, and as soon as you did sit, Mark started a conversation, so things werenât awkward between you both.
N â´ NONSENSE
One of his favourite things about being with you was that he didnât have to be anything but himself, there was no need for him to control anything or be an idol in front of you, he could just literally be Mark.
O â´ OBSESSION
Mark was obsessed with how genuine you were, there werenât many people that he fully trusted, but he knew that you always meant well, and that most of you always looked out for Markâs best interests.
P â´ PRECIOUS MOMENTS
The times that meant the most to him were when he could just do nothing with you and breathe for a little while. His life was busier than most peopleâs with so many units and teams to be a part of, so when he just got to sit back and put his feet up for a while when he was with you, Mark was glad to relax with you.
Q â´ QUESTIONS
He was constantly checking up on you, Mark would be asking how you were as much as he possibly could. Despite how busy he was, he never let that stop him from worrying about you and checking in with you too.
R â´ RANDOM FACTS
The two of you loved to head down to the river when you were both busy and relax for a little while. You had a spot that was yours and would often take food and sit down for a while so that you could escape and relax which was one of Markâs favourite things to do and talk without any interruptions too.
S â´ SUPPORT
Whilst he tried to seem unbothered by a need for support, when it came down to you, Mark loved it. He tried to pretend not to be bothered when you showed up unexpectedly or called him just before a show, but on the inside his heart would absolutely race knowing that you thought enough to be there for him.
T â´ TRIPS
His family were big fans of yours, and often tried to get Mark to take you with him when he went home to see them all. He loved how well you got along with them and how accepting they were of you as his friend.
U â´ ULTIMATE
He felt as if heâd won something having you as a best friend, he was constantly worried that someone would tell him it was a prank.
V â´ VISITS
Quite often Mark would visit you when you were at work when he had a break, even if it was just to say hello. He loved to just see you, especially as in person he really could judge that you were doing alright.
W â´ WISDOM
One of the things that Mark worked particularly had at was giving you advice so that he could try his best to help you when you needed it.
X â´ XXXX
Neither of you were afraid of being affectionate with one another, but at the same time you were very rarely over the top with one another, your affection blended in so that no one else ever really noticed it.
Y â´ YOU
You were his comfort, Mark always felt relaxed and content when he was with you.
Z â´ ZZZ
Most of the time when the two of you hung out, Mark made you spend the night at the dorm, refusing to let you drive yourself home, especially when it started to chill off and get uncomfortable outside.
warnings: language, drinking, mark being a western artist
word count: 3k
prompt: markâs got it all. now he wants you
a/n: did i write this based off a very real dream i had about jack harlow? yes, yes i did. the idea of making this into a mark fic was TOO irresistibleÂ
playlist: stoked-weston estate, round&round-nctÂ
After a 30 minute wait in a messy line to get photos with the members of the band, you let Daniella drag you out of the venue, yanking your arm every time you get stuck between a few of the people sticking around inside.
Everyoneâs so much taller than you, so much stronger and you wonder how you didnât get left behind or lost in the crowd. So you tighten your grip in Daniellaâs hand and let her pull you into freedom. You only really let go when the warm wind hits your face, whipping your hair around in every direction. You canât see where sheâs going so you place a hand on her shoulder and let her direct you further out, just until youâve tucked all strands of hair behind your ears and away from your eyes, quickly looking around to see if anyone saw you struggling.
âGirl, I- is that- Oh my god, it is!â She turns around to grab both your hands, coming to a squat while she squeals at you.
âWhat? Who?â You ask, looking around at the people waiting by the sidewalk for their rides, taking a smoke, and then falling to a larger group of people, lights flashing around the one member at the end of the line.
Trying your hardest to go on your tiptoes and peer over the heads and shoulders of others, you catch sight of a blond haired head, a growing undercut but nothing to give away who it was.
âWho?â You ask again, getting impatient and suddenly feeling left out of the excitement.
âMark! Mark Lee!â She jumps.
âNo way,â you gasp, looking over her shoulder to see If you could get yet an actual look at the blond guy, hopefully with his face in view this time. And when you do you gasp again, craning your head each time someone gets in your way so your stare on him could linger.
âWerenât we just talking about him the other day? Girl, you manifested this,â she says, crazy eyes looking between you and him.
âI only said he was attractive,â you laugh, never having understood the whole âmanifestationâ thought process that Daniella swears by. Her and her crystals and energy never really clicked for you and to be honest, you never believed it was real.
âShoot your shot!â
âWhat? No! He wouldnât- no.â
Daniella looks at you, a small grin playing on her face when she reminds herself how shy youâd always been. âOkay, then letâs at least get a picture.â
She takes one hand into hers again, dropping the other back to your side but it finds it place back onto her shoulder. Itâs still quite hard to process everything thatâs going on, from being so excited to seeing one of your favorite bands, being front row and having so much fun that youâre still in a bit of a daze. And now youâre about to be directly in front of the most popular rapper of your generation.
You knew little to nothing about him, other than he was humble and authentic, he came from Canada, and he was seriously attractive. It was obvious his music wasnât your type, otherwise youâd officially consider yourself a fan. But you donât and though youâve tried to throw yourself into his world, you couldnât, leading you to admire him from afar; as you are now.
Daniella pushes her way through the crowd, shoving herself into a gap in the line, where no one sees her cut. You almost scold her for it, whining her name to call her attention but you donât get any further than that before the people in front of you move to the side, taking half the line with them and before you know it, youâre first in line.
Mark stands at an angle, talking to a fan about his music and what heâs been up to while in Los Angeles. He laughs at a comment she makes and for whatever reason, you find yourself smiling with him.
âCome on,â Daniella whispers, tugging you forward until Mark turns his head to her. âHi! Can we have a picture?â
âSure, sure, of course.â He opens his arms up, welcoming Daniella into one of his sides and she snuggles close to him, waving you in so you can tuck yourself into his other side. But you shake your head, pulling your phone up so you can take their picture. Daniella smacks her teeth at you but gives in, knowing sheâs never won a fight between her outspokenness and your anxiety.
Which is why you donât mind much when she tells him, âSorry, sheâs shy.â
You only take 3 pictures, first because theres still a line behind you and because you donât want anyone to notice the way your hands are shaking. You blame the adrenaline rush coming to an end.
Daniella removes herself from his hold, praising him over his music, his personality, his looks and gives him one last hug. And you think youâre free to leave, head to the car and watch all your concert videos on the way home but no.
âHey, one picture wonât hurt. Come on, get in here.â Mark lifts his arm again, calling you over. You hesitate to go forward, only letting your body take one step closer before realizing you canât just take a photo with someone whoâs music you donât listen to. Thereâs a whole line of real fans waiting for his photo and here you are, cheating.
Of course, you have to remember Daniella is here with you and though Daniella never wishes to put you out of your comfort zone, sheâs also impatient. She shoves you forward, mumbling something about how youâre holding up the line before grabbing your phone from your hand and rising it to her face.
âSmile!â She squeals and holds her finger down, and you know sheâs snapping more than just 3 photos by the way youâre grappling for life holding your breath the second Mark puts a hand around your waist. Itâs a soft touch but the warmth radiating off his hand might as well make it a rough one. âCute!â
She steps next to you to show you, though you only nod so she can get out of the way after thanking him and you could finally head home. Over your other shoulder, Mark leans forward as well, an arm around your shoulder, peeking at the photos as Daniella scrolls through them, zooming into your face and complimenting the glow on your cheeks.
âThese are nice, dude. You look good.â
âSee? You look good,â Daniella praises you too, and you know sheâs only repeating what Mark has said but something about the way she says it makes you believe it more than when he said it originally. But since you did hear him say it, you smile at him, mumbling a low thank you and stepping out from under his arm.
âNo problem. Tag me if you post those, yeah?â Â
âOh, sheâll post these, donât even worry.â Daniella gives him a thumbs up, and a wink but you pretend you didnât see that. Youâd been embarrassed as is. and she doesnât do anything to help relieve you of it, finding the need to scream at you the entire ride home that Mark was in love with you.
==
âA house party? Seriously? Me? I donât even have clothes for events like that, Jen.â You slump into her bed, crashing down onto your back and staring at the ceiling. âAnd where did you even find this party? When did you become more L.A than me?â
âA friend of a friend told me about it. Weâre on the list, donât worry. I made sure like 3 times before confirming it. Youâre the only one not doing anything tonight and youâve showered today already so why not come? We wonât be there long, I have an early shift tomorrow. I promise, I wonât be a shitty friend and leave you for some guy I meet even if heâs rich and famous.â
âYou think famous people are gonna be there?â You sit up, almost giving yourself whiplash. âLike who?â
âWoah, calm down. I can promise you Drake wonât show up but I donât know? I heard Keshi might make a special appearance.â
âI donât really care about Drake.â You let your body fall back onto the bed as you listen to Jenâs clothing hangers screech back and forth against the metal rod until she has 15 outfits laid out around her entire room.
âWe are just about the same size, I think. Your jean size is bigger than mine so, you canât wear pants.â
âWhat?â
âHow about a romper?â
âA romper?â
âYeah, itâs got sparkles in it.â
âIâm not wearing a romper, what if I have to pee?â
âOkay, then thereâs this dress but you donât like showing too much skin.â
âI can wear a cardigan over it or something.â You shrug, surprising Jen by the way you take the dress from her hands. It feels a bit expensive under your fingertips and you donât even want to ask her how much she paid for it. The priciest clothing item youâd ever paid for was a $150 jacket meant specifically for the cold which you regret entirely. You live in Los Angeles.
âOkay, then Iâll wear this.â
The familiar warm air hits your legs softly as you sit on the grass, playing with the dog. âThereâs always a random dog at house partiesâ Jen mumbled to you the second you both saw it run across the room, almost knocking a few drink girls out. And now, it was the only thing keeping you company. Not that you mind all that much, as long as youâre not completely alone, you didnât care about sitting by yourself on the grass, away from the actual party. Besides, it was big enough that no one actually noticed.
You toss the rope across the yard again, wiping your hand on the grass after grabbing a handful of the slobber dripping from it. Thereâs a drink in your other hand but not enough sips of it can make you comfortable enough to go inside and interact with others. You leave that to your friends.
It takes you a few minutes to realize the dog, a large curly doodle, hadnât returned with itâs toy. Â Now, youâre really alone. Not even the dog wants to play with you anymore. So you proceed to look up, admire the stars a bit, something you donât get to take advantage a lot of living in the city. Â You can see thatâs why rich people prefer living on the outskirts of it, enjoying their huge mansions on the mountains overlooking the skyline and out of the harsh lights and smog.
Next thing you know, youâre lying on the grass, trying to convince yourself you didnât just see a UFO disappear when a satellite flies above you. Thereâs something about the way stars flicker that makes you just stare up, wondering when theyâre going to burst. Thatâs why youâre so transfixed that you donât hear or feel the way someone comes up next to you and plops themselves down beside your head.
âWhatâs up there?â The sudden appearance of someoneâs voice makes you jump, a hand dramatically coming up to the place on your chest over your heart. You crane your neck up, eyes trailing up until you lock eyes with Mark Lee. Again.
âHi,â you whisper, just audible enough for him to hear you so he can respond. âJust stars.â
âNice. I like stars.â
âMe too.â You pull your chin back down appearing nonchalant, like the idea of Mark Lee sitting next to you on the moist grass, just you two away from everyone else, wasnât freaking you out. You can see now as he pulls his body down, lining up with yours and mirroring your position, eyes straight up to the dark sky.
You think youâve gotten away from what youâve been dreading the most all night: conversations with strangers. That is until you hear Mark take a deep inhale beside you.
âIâm Mark.â
âI know.â You smile politely, masking the way you want to laugh at him for thinking you wouldnât already know him and giving him your name.
âYouâre mad cute, you know that, y/n? All alone outside looking at the stars and shit, thatâs cute.â
You donât think your heart can take any more from him. You were aware of his confidence, his tendency to flirt with everyone and act like he didnât do anything wrong but you didnât think youâd ever be at the receiving end of it. âOh, really?â
âYeah, I saw you playing with Snoopy earlier too.â
âHis name is Snoopy?â You canât help but awe, finally putting a name to the furry friend who had been keeping you company for the last hour. Your eyes are beaming up at him like he just told you that you could keep the dog. He nods, silently knowing he wouldâve given you the dog in a heartbeat if he could.
Mark gives you a grin, not aware of the effect youâd have on him.
âAre you from here?â He wonders out loud after letting the silence settle in a bit again. The crickets chirp behind you.
âYeah,â you nod, flickering your eyes from his to the sky every now and then. You canât stare at him for too long.
âCool, Iâm here for a few months. Recording the new album, you know. Itâs fun. LA is cool.â
You scoff, âItâs kinda ugly honestly. But yeah, I guess you can appreciate parts of it.â
âHow do you feel about Toronto?â
âI donât know much about it, I like how Canada looks when itâs snowing. Iâll have to go someday.â You shrug, knowing very well youâve already considered taking a trip north eventually.
âIâll have to take you one day.â
At this, you bite your lip. Thereâs no escaping the natural flowing flirt that is Mark Lee, which means, youâll have to suck it up and go along with it best you can. âOkay, just let me know.â
âYouâll love it. And if you donât, Iâll take you somewhere else.â
âAnd how am I supposed to afford these trips?â
âYou donât. My treat. Just give me your attention.â
With your heart already racing, you prepare for it about to burst when Mark lifts a hand to your face, slowly tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your neck, exposing the skin of your collarbone where the cardigan doesnât cover. Â Again, minimal contact but itâs enough for you to almost wince with the feeling of his fingertips grazing over your neck.
Thereâs no use in hiding how you feel, you know heâs already taken notice of it in the way you avoid his lingering gaze whenever you look up at him. And especially now that youâve sucked in a deep breath after his little act, again seemingly nothing. Perhaps thatâs why you freeze, much to your dismay, looking directly at his eyes.
This is exactly why you were avoiding eye contact with him. You knew that if you maintained it for too long, youâd get lost in them. The way the stars shined above you was no match for the way his eyes did. Even when his puppy eyes begin to fade away and he transitions into a sultry look, inches away from your face, do you believe thereâs galaxies in the sky and not in his eyes.
And if that wasnât enough for you to feel like youâre falling in him, the same hand tracing over your collarbone comes up to cup your face, scalding the already burning skin of your cheek. Heâs warm, comforting, and nothing about his touch on your is disrespectful or rude. Itâs slow, like every millisecond of it is open for you to stop him if you need him to. And when you donât, he brings it to hold the back of your neck, pulling you inward to him as he leans forward. His lips touch yours just as soft and slow.
He needs you to let him know to keep going. So you do.
You follow his lead; a hand on his shoulder to give you some leverage when you roll onto your hip. You donât know what comes across you, whether it be just the rush or the crush youâd had on him, maybe even just his scent but youâre taking his bottom lip between your teeth, letting him swipe his tongue over your own. Itâs crazy. Itâs so sudden, so fast that when you finally pull away from each other, youâre both breathless, and you inhale a deep breath to catch up.
âWowâ you huff, head spinning so fast that you donât stop yourself from saying the first thing you could think of out loud, âYou smell really good, actually.â
Mark chuckles, craning his head to look at you directly, an eyebrow raised. âWhat? Why? Is there a rumor going that I smell bad?â
âN- no. I didnât mean it like that, you just- you smell good.â
âWell, good. Iâm glad we got that out of the way.â A tilt of his head and the pulling up of the corner of his lips makes you release that smile youâd been holding back on.
Stuff like this only happens in movies or books. You could also be dreaming. The sky looks too perfect, this dress fits you perfectly, the âit boyâ of the generation just swapped saliva with you; it couldnât be real.
âIâm kinda into you, y/n.â
âReally?â
He canât help the laugh that falls past his lips, already far too comfortable with you that he teases you, repeating your words in the exact same tone youâd asked, ââReally?â Yeah, really. You donât believe me? Do I need to kiss you again?â
At any other time, any other guy, youâd be embarrassed. Youâd have shied away by now, probably ran away crying to Jen about your encounter but theres something about the way Mark carries himself, easy going, like heâs already your friend and there shouldnât be any tension or awkwardness between you two. You like it. You like it so much that you roll your eyes and shove at his arm lightly. Somewhere in the way he looked at you, kissed you, and confessed to you, youâd gained this assurance.
âIf you insist.â
Stuff like this didnât happen to you. Until it did.