#MARK LEE SCENARIOS
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â§Ëâ pairing: obsessive!mark x afab!reader 18+ MDNI â§Ëâ genre: smut! angst! â§Ëâ word count: 1k (sorry this one is longer than pt1đ) â§Ëâ cw: stalker / obsessive tendencies, m!masterbation, exhibitionist mark(once again lol), swearing, mark wants u sooo bad but youâre dating his best friend haechan, filming w/o the other party knowing.
» read part one here.
roommate mark who canât help his secret crush on you. were you his best friendâs partner? yes. did that stop his feelings? absolutely not. he shared his space with donghyuck, aka your boyfriend, which only made things more complicated. there were certain times where mark caught himself staring at you a little too long, or perhaps his laugh lingered a bit too much after one of your jokes. he noticedâoh, he definitely noticedâthe strange looks donghyuck would give him here and there. mark was fully aware of how it all looked, but he always tried his best to suppress it, burying his feelings deep where they couldnât cause trouble.
what he didnât expect, though, was to hear you in the room next to his, moaning his name.
interested and in pure shock, he froze. he hadnât meant to eavesdrop on you and hyuckâs intimate moment, but it had been so long since heâd last heard you like this, so needy and desperate. curiosity got the better of him, and he just wanted a better sense of what was happeningâa clearer view, a clearer sound. he just wasnât expecting to hear his name fall from your lipsâ not like this.
âmarkâŠâ he heard you moan, along with the silence that came after.
you said his name-not donghyuck's, but his. mark freezes, questioning if he heard you correctly, but the growing hardness between his legs confirms it. his breath hitches, his pulse quickening as his mind races. the silence from donghyuck's end only fuels his excitement, leaving mark to wonder what hyuck might do next-or if he'll do anything at all.
mark's thoughts spiral, dark and dangerous. he debates for a fleeting, reckless moment whether he should enter the room himself, finish what you started. the idea sends a shiver down his spine. he presses himself against the door, his head tipping forward as his hands brace against the frame. part of him just wants to hear you better, to catch every gasp and whisper, but the pressure offers him relief too.
his name. your voice. it echoes in his mind, over and over, unraveling him with every second, unaware of the true context behind it.
mark had his days where he would sneak off into hyuckâs room when no one was around. heâd find something of yoursâa scarf, a stray hair tie, or even just a forgotten notebookâand hold it in awe, his fingers brushing over it like it was something sacred. sometimes, heâd take it back to his room, keeping it tucked away for later, when his thoughts would spiral, and his imagination would get the better of him. it was wrong, and he knew it, but he couldnât help himself. you were intoxicating, even when you werenât there.
like that pair of panties you thought you lost during laundry? they werenât lostâthey were left in hyuckâs room, right there on his floor. the same floor mark found himself staring at, biting his lip, questioning his next move. at the time, no one was home. no one.
so he grabbed your underwear from the floor and locked himself in his room. he spent the entire night with it wrapped around his cock as he got off to your scent.
only you could drive him this mad, and only he knew the dirty things heâd dreamt of doing to you. thoughts he had no right to entertain, yet they crept in during the quiet momentsâwhen the apartment was still, and your laughter echoed faintly in his memory. you were off-limits, unattainable, but that didnât stop his mind from wandering, didnât stop the way his heart raced whenever you so much as glanced his way.
now he canât help himself as he hears donghyuck scolding you while his pace fastens. marks cock already sprung out and his bare hand jerking himself off to the same pace as your boyfriendâs thrusts.
âis this what you want? you want mark to hear how good i fuck you? who makes you feel this good, baby? hm?â haechan mutters, the sound of wet skin echoing through the door.
ây-yes⊠fuck- hyuckieâŠ.â you forget about markâs presence for a second as your boyfriend is about to help you reach your orgasm. you couldnât care less if mark heard you right now.
âwait for me baby, please,â mark groans, his wrists readjusting as he starts thrusting himself into his hand deeper.
i wish this was your pretty pussy taking my cock instead, baby, he thought to himself.
âiâm close hyuckie!â you warn.
mark fastens his pace once more, deliberately giving attention to his tip. he had it all figured out in his imagination. he was the reason for all your moans. you couldnât help yourself but ride him stupid. your hands roaming all over his body, his chest, tugging at his hair. these thoughts were all too much for him to bare.
and just like that, after hearing all of your incoherent noises, you finally release, mark soon following after. sweat dripping off from his forehead, he cums into his hand, hard. he uses his other hand to ride out his high, still in his own world of you and him.
ây/nâŠâ he lets out a weakened sigh, his head falling back nearly hitting the door against him.
he thought he would end it here. heâd rush to pull his pants back around his waist and disappear into his room, pretending none of this ever happenedâuntil he heard donghyuck go at you again.
âyouâre going to fucking take it like a good girl, okay? cmon baby, give me one more,â he hears your boyfriend guiding you, trying to keep you for another.
mark's knees almost gave out from the realization. your whimpers and pleas spilled through the thin walls, sounding like forbidden music to his ears. he's too sensitive to touch himself again, every nerve in his body overstimulated, yet he's terrified he'll miss out on this fleeting, intoxicating moment. so, he does the only thing he can think of-he presses himself closer to the wall, his breath hitching as he tries to catch every sound, every whisper of you that slips through.
mark confirmed everything tonightâhe really is infatuated with you. thereâs no denying it, not after hearing his name fall from your lips, not after the way his heart nearly stopped at the sound. every carefully buried feeling, every glance he tried to hide, every suppressed thoughtâall of it surged to the surface in a rush he couldnât control.
that night continues with mark's phone pressed against your boyfriend's door, recording every sound that escapes. after what feels like hours, he loses count of how many times hyuck pulls those broken cries and moans from you. mark smiles softly to himself, his mind spinning with the idea of being one step closer to finally joining you two. the thought shouldn't comfort him-it shouldn't excite him-but it does, and he doesn't even try to stop it anymore.
#nct#nct 127#nct u#nct dream#nct mark#mark lee#nct mark lee#lee mark#lee minhyung#mark x reader#mark angst#haechan#lee donghyuck#lee haechan#donghyuck#nct haechan#haechan x reader#haechan smut#haechan scenarios#mark scenarios#haechan fanfic#donghyuck smut#donghyuck x reader#haechan angst#mark smut#mark lee smut#mark lee scenarios#nct smut
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Markâs head lifted slightly from the pillow propped under him as he heard the door creak open. His lips curled into a soft smile.
âHey, baby. Welcome home,â he greeted, his voice warm but tinged with concern. âHow are you? I called, but you didnât answer.â
You didnât respond. Instead, you walked over, dropped your bag, and collapsed next to him on the couch. Without so much as a word, you placed your hand over his mouth, cutting off whatever he was about to say next.
âShut up, bae. Just shush,â you mumbled, face buried deep into the cushion.
Mark froze for a moment, wide-eyed. âYo, dude, you good?â he asked, his words muffled against your palm.
In response, you lifted your head just enough to press a single finger to his lips, signaling for him to stay quiet. Moments later, you were out cold, your breathing evening out as sleep claimed you.
Mark sat up, puzzled and a little worried. He shifted closer, carefully sliding his arm around you to keep you from slumping further. His hand moved gently up and down your back, trying to comfort you even though you were already far away in dreamland.
âYouâre really out of it, huh?â he whispered, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your face. He studied your featuresâexhaustion etched into every line of your expressionâand sighed softly.
âDamn,â he muttered to himself, holding you against his chest as he leaned back into the couch.
Despite his worry, he smiled faintly, his fingers continuing to trace slow, soothing circles on your back. Whatever had worn you out this much, heâd make sure you felt better tomorrow. For now, he stayed there with you, your head tucked under his chin, determined to let you rest in peace.
#nct dream#nct 127#nct#nct u#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct fanfic#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct headcanons#nct dream x reader#nct dream fanfiction#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream fanfic#nct dream reactions#nct dream fic#nct dream x you#nct dream mark#nct mark#nct mark lee#nct mark fluff#nct mark x reader#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenarios#mark lee fanfic#mark lee imagines#mark lee x reader#mark lee fic
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mark lee fic recs!
âȘ©âȘš Operation: First Kiss - @ncityrave (Mark turns to his friends for help to build up the courage for his relationship's first kiss.)
âȘ©âȘš Sunday Kind of Love : Frat Mark - @smileysuh (Mark is fine with having a crush on the girl in the library. Heâs fine watching her from afar. And heâs fine with never speaking a word to the girl who he spends many nights chasing in his dreams. But fate, and a few nosey frat brothers, think Mark would be much better if he was forced to talk to the cute girl from the library that he canât seem to get out of his head.)
âȘ©âȘš tis the damn season - mark smau - @najaemism (in which your ex-boyfriend comes back to your hometownâand he wants to talk to you.)
âȘ©âȘš Delphinium - @ncteez (It wasnât intentional. You donât even know why you cared that he didnât believe in pre-marital sex, but it didnât stop you from arguing with him about it. You didnât intend to win the argument either. Then again, he kind of let you.)
âȘ©âȘš 9:10 PM - @neochan (possessive! mark)
âȘ©âȘš WITH YOU | MK.L - @sehunniepotwrites (There are many things Mark Lee wants to do with you. He wants to walk you home. He wants to dive into the deep blue sea with you. He wants to go on a drive with you at his side. But mostly, this crazy, head over heels in love boy just wants to make it with you.)
âȘ©âȘš spidey boy ; ìŽëŻŒí - @martiniblues (mark has tried to hide his secret identity from you for as long as possible, to keep you safe, of course. little does he know that youâve untangled his web of lies long ago and will do anything in your power to get him to admit it. just when you've had enough of him lying to you, he ends up getting caught in the act trying to save your life.)
âȘ©âȘš eyes on me. (m.l) - @mrkis (mark wants you to keep your eyes on him as he pleases you.)
âȘ©âȘš GOLDEN HOUR. | L.MK - @onyourhyuck (Youâre a waiter and Mark Lee the local biker and infamous bad boy loves the eggs your diner makes, but now he wants a taste of you.)
âȘ©âȘš madly in love - mark lee - @p0ckykiss (mark had always been the hopeless romantic type)
âȘ©âȘš itâs too bad youâre married to me | m.l - @yojeongin (all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he canâtâ nothing can prepare him for whatâs in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.)
âȘ©âȘš Pretty Boy. (m.l) - @ncteez (Markâs favorite thing to do is sit alone at the library and enjoy the knowledge that his university offers. In contrast, your favorite thing to do is go to parties and enjoy as much chaos as possible. However, upon realizing your grades have dropped drastically due to this lifestyle, you have no choice but to approach Mark for help. or the one where your new favorite thing to do is seduce the most inexperienced man youâve ever met and watch how desperate he gets for you.)
âȘ©âȘš gelato | lmk - @hazyhae (a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and youâve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.)
âȘ©âȘš ê° đđ đđđ đđđ đđđ ê± ìŽëŻŒí - @loserlvrss (one thing about your boyfriend, mark, is that he would always take care of you â even if you were annoyingly drunk â and he was embarrassingly in love)
#mark smut#nct smut#mark lee smut#nct fic#mark fic#mark lee fic#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct#nct dream#nct dream fic#nct fluff#nct 127#nct 127 fic#mark lee#mark lee fluff#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#nct mark#nct mark lee#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct angst#mark lee angst#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fluff#nct dream imagine#nct dream scenarios
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fever pitch
â©â mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k
SUMMARY |Â your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that heâs the cityâs ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks heâs falling for you faster than any pitch heâs thrown before.
WARNINGS |Â sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!
RATING |Â mature
AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!
TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen
Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.
Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the parkâs stimulating surroundings.
Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseballâ
Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.
But one in particular catches your eye.
Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area. Â
In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.
You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate mustâve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.
And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man. Â
Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.
âOkay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?â Chenle asks, coming up beside you.
Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.
Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. âOkay, heâs cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.â
Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, âWhy do I feel like Iâve seen him somewhere?â
Standing up, you reply, âProbably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?â
âNo.â He shakes his head. âI feel like I know him from somewhere else...â
Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.
âWant your usual?â
âYes, please!â
However, Chenleâs brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. Youâre about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercingâ
âWATCH OUT!â
With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sunâs spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.
âOh, my God,â he pants. His hands shake in front of him. âI am so, so, so, so sorry.â
You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, âWhat happened?â
âI, uh...â The individualâs mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, âmay have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.â
Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if youâre okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the strangerâs frown to deepen.
âMaybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.â
All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. Itâs likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.
âIâll obviously cover all the billsââ
You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. âNo. Iâm okay, Iâm okay.â
You know youâll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.
Continuing, you say, âAnd thatâs too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.â
Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce heâs deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.
Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.
âIâll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.â He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. âBut seriously, if thereâs any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and Iâll pay for any expenses that come your way.â
âHow would I know how to reach out to you?â
He rambles the following matter-of-factly, âWell, you can find my managerâs information online, thereâs the teamâs Twitter accountââhe looks up cutely in thoughtââand I guess Iâve been kinda active on Instagramââ
You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?
âOkay,â you interrupt, âbut who are you?â
His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but theyâre unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, âI think whatâs more important is: do you know who you are?â
âYeah, Iâmââ And you properly introduce yourself.
âGood,â he says, âso weâre not dealing with amnesia.â
Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, âNice to meet you, Iâm Mark.â
He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.
âMark,â you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, âthe baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.â
At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury mustâve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. âYou should see me pitch.â
You shake your head. âNu-uh, nope,â you playfully say. âIâm going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.â
Both you and Markâs eyebrows rise at the remark.
Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.
While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. âStrong, strong. I meant strong...â
Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, âChenle, letâs get going.â
Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, âYou sure you donât want to dig your grave even further?â You attempt to elbow him, but heâs too quick and avoids it.
âIt was nice meeting you, Mark,â you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. âThanks for looking out for... my head?â
Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.
Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.
âAgain, Iâm really, really sorry!â Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. âIf you need to find me, Iâll be here over the next couple of weekends!â
When youâre far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. âYou just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.â
He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. âI mean, Daegalâs great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, itâs going to be you.â
You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.
âYour head good though?â
You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, thereâs likely just a bruise. âYeah, itâs good.â
In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, âThink you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?â
Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, youâd love to see him again.Â
But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.
On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenleâs calling you. When was the last time heâs called you?
Actually, youâre fairly sure heâs never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.Â
âHey, everything okay?â
âFind a TV playing the baseball game,â Chenle pants. âRight now.â
Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what heâs asking you to do? Heâs not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. âWhat?â
âDo it,â he orders. âNow!â
âOkay, okay.â
Thankful you havenât gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You havenât used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.
And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while theyâre doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.
âOkay...â you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your cityâs team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. âWhy must I need to watch the baseball game so baââ
The cameraâs now on Markâs face.
The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.
Heâs on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people. Â
From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, heâs different from yesterdayâs care-free self, but youâd be lying if you said this serious side of him didnât turn you on either.
Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number:Â Lee. 02.
He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcherâs glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.
Mark wasnât lying about his skills; heâs the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.
All the screens are filled with Player #02âs glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.
âA great put-out pitch for Lee,â one says. âHis fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.â
Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.
Another commentator supplements, âAside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, heâs definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. Itâs no wonder theyâve been calling him âThe Tiger!ââ
Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The cityâs new star pitcherâhow could you not know him?
âI knew he looked familiar!â Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Markâs nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and youâre unable to create a coherent reply.
But you donât need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.
The week passes by, with you casually going through Markâs Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Markâs games with Chenle in tow.Â
You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentatorsâ constant praises and the teamâs overall wins.
Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.
Because for you, itâs game time.
Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?
The scene of the park is quite similar to last weekâs, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the cityâs team from all the games youâve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didnât notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.
As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.
This is perfect timing for you too.
However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. Youâre surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in andâ
And itâs too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.
Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure heâs not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.Â
But no, youâre not mistakenâhis eyes are only on you.
Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.
âHey,â Mark says, still grinning beautifully. âHowâs your head feeling?â
His smile is incredibly infectious. Itâs a challenge not to do the same when youâre in the presence of this man. âBetter. Had some bruising, but itâs all gone now.â
He nods in response, mumbling a âGood, goodâ under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.
âSo, why didnât you tell me that you were in the major leagues?â
At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.
Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. Youâre captivated by it more than you should be.
He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. âWell, you didnât ask.â
âI did,â you laugh. âI asked who you were!â
After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. âOkay, maybe you did.â
You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Timeâs filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.Â
Mark breaks the silence, asking, âAre you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?â
âOh, my God...â you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.
âNo,â he says through another burst of laughter, âitâs a genuine question.â
âI meant to say strong!â you argue petulantly. âI was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.â
âI know, I know,â he giggles. âIâm genuinely wondering though, cause...â Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.Â
You tilt your head, intrigued. âCause what?â
âCause, I was, uh, wondering,â he says, eyes averting yours. âSince I owe you for your head injuryââ
âYou donât owe me anythingââ
âAnd I know itâs a long shot cause youâre absolutely gorgeous and youâre probably takenââ
This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that youâre off the market.Â
ââbut did you wanna go out with me sometime?â His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. âMaybe?â
Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. âYes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!â
âChenle!â you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. âDonât mind him.â
As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. âHi, Iâm Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.â
âMark.â He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. âAnd thanks.â
Markâs eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. âAw, whoâs this cute little guy?â
âDaegal,â Chenle answers. âSheâs my little handful, besides this one.â he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.Â
Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. Sheâs never this delighted with strangers usually.Â
âWhat do you think, Daegal?â Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. âDo you think your friend should go out with me?â
Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.Â
âGood girl,â Chenle whispers from above.
Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegalâs betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.Â
âBut how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?â Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.
âI promise I wonât be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,â Mark casually says.
After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.
âWait, I meanâshit...â he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.
âI know what you mean,â you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.
He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.
âI probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?â
âYes, definitely!â
Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.
âFor sure, Mark,â you say. âHave a great game.â With the way he plays, you know he will.
Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.
âYou do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?â you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.
Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.
âYes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!â
After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.
As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.
In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.
He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.
Your date takes in your outfitâan off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneouslyâand beams.
âWow,â he says, mouth agape. âYou look gorgeous.â
âThank you,â you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. âYou don't look so bad yourself.â
After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. âHope this isn't too daunting.â
You shake your head. âNot at all.â
As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.
You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.
Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.
He twists around with his visor open.
âReady?â
You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.
Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.
On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague ideaâdinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessertâbut that's all.
In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.
Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.
The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.
Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.
However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, âOnly the best for my date, please.â) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.
You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.
The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.
By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.
When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.
Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.
âIsn't the aquarium closed at this hour?â
He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, âI may have booked it privately for tonight.â
As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.
Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.
Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.
âYouâre quite the romantic,â you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?â
âOnly the girls who get hit on the head by me,â he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.
After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, âWould it be surprising to say I donât go on dates as often as you think?â
Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. âA little.â
He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.
âIâve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being draftedâs been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that Iâm finally hereââyou feel his gaze now directed on youââI definitely can rearrange my time for other things.â
Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.
Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.
He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...
Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.
You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.
And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.
Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.
An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.
You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.
âSo,â you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, âdoes this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?â
âOf course,â he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. âIt'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.â
The implication that thereâll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.
At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.
Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.
Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.
The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.
His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).
It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.
Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.
Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.
Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.
Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.
Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.
âShould we stop?â he asks. âLike, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I donât wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?â
It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. âIf you want to stop, we can.â
He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.
âBut I donât want to stop...â he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.
âNeither do I.â
And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.
Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.
He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.
When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, âCan I...?â
You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.
It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.
âMark, please, justââ
Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.
The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.
Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.
With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lustâso carnal, so different than his regular self.
As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.
âWearing panties?â he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.
âHuh?â
âNo bra, but panties?â he smirks, making you realize the joke.
You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. âAre you into that? No panties underneath?â
âCould be hot,â he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.
âMaybe one date I can do th-ahââ
Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.
His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.
You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.
Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.
But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.
âFuck, fuck, fuckââ
Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, âDoes this feel good, gorgeous?â
Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. âMm-hmm.â
âGood,â he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, â'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.â
Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.
âYou close?â
You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.
It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.
âMark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'mââ
Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.
When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.
âLet's take this to the bedroom, I need to grabââ
âShould I run to the pharmacy toâ?â
In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.
Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.
Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.
God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...
âSorry,â he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, âhope it's okay that I took my pants off already.â
He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.
âThere is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.â
You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.
Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.
Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.
More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.
As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.
Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.
âI love your arms,â you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.
âYeah,â he chuckles, âI know you love my sexy arms.â You punch him teasingly.
But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.
âThis might be weird to ask, but could I...â you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.
âHey,â he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. âYou can ask me anything, beautiful.â
You hesitate with closed eyes.
âCould I... ride your arm?â
Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.
âIâWhat? Sure?â His voice raises in octaves.
Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. âNever mind that I asked.â
âNo, hey,â he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. âI'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.â
âYeah?â
Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. âYeah.â
Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.
Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. âIs this okay?â
He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. âYou can put more weight on it, it's okay.â
You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.
Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.
His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your faceâfluttering eyes paired with your lip bitingâand the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.
âThis okay still?â you breathe.
âFuck yeah.â He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. âDoes it feel good for you?â
You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.
âOh, God,â Mark pants.
You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.
âFuck,â Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, âyou really do love my arms...â
It's a sweet dream for youâno, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.
Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.
Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.
Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.
The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.
Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.
He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.
At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.
He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.
Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.
As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but heâs also unsure whatâs in-store for either of you.
There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...
And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. Itâs akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...
Itâs too early to call it, but when heâs around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.
He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.
Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.
EPILOGUE â FOUR MONTHS LATER
Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.
Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.
With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closelyâof course, safely from a distance and from behind himâand nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.
âStop checking out your boyfriend's ass,â he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.
âYou stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,â you retort, nudging him back.
The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, âSo when you guys get marriedââ
âOh, my God, Chenle...â
âI'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.â
You shake your head, eyes still on your love. âChenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.â
âWhen we'll get there,â he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.
Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.
Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.
âHowâd I do?â Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.
âAwesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?â
Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. âYouâre never going to let me live that down, huh?â
âNever,â you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. âYou nervous?â
âYeah,â he exhales, closing his eyes. âMore than usual.â
Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. âYouâll do amazing, like always.â
âYouâre too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I mightââ
You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.
âAnd you are the Mark âThe Tigerâ Leeââyou tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his faceââtop contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.â
In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.
After a few moments, he concedes. âI had a pretty great run this season, havenât I?â
You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.
âAnd you have me,â you add jokingly.
He tilts his head side to side. âI guess thereâs that too...â
The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.
Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.
âGo get âem, Tiger,â you whisper.
Mark nods, a little more confident than before. âI love you.â
âI love you too.â
âSo much,â he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.
You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.
You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.
That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...
Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.
But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.
And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.
He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:
âI know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."
Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.
Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.
All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.
You immediately say yes.
#mark lee x reader#mark lee smut#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenarios#mark lee imagines#mark lee fanfic#nct smut#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct scenarios#nct 127 smut#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff#nct dream smut#yn brainrot
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spidey boy ; ìŽëŻŒí
pairing spiderman!mark x female!reader
synopsis mark has tried to hide his secret identity from you for as long as possible, to keep you safe, of course. little does he know that youâve untangled his web of lies long ago and will do anything in your power to get him to admit it. just when you've had enough of him lying to you, he ends up getting caught in the act trying to save your life.
genre established relationship, fighting (if you squint), lots of fluff, slight violence and cat-calling, slightly suggestive, mark calls reader âmy girlâ and âpretty girlâ.
wc 2.9k
âdo you think that spiderman guy is actually as good as everyone says he is?â you ask mark, who lay peacefully in your lap as your fingers ran through his hair.
you two had been hanging out after school, as you usually do, watching random channels while you both indulged in each other's day. however, you had articulated this hangout the night prior.
a few days ago, you had aimlessly been searching through markâs backpack in hopes of finding your calculus notes, which you had so graciously let him borrow, only to stumble upon a very familiar red and black mask balled up in the bottom.
at first, you thought mark had hit peak fangirl. he was obsessed with the superhero after all, completely drawn to the tv or newspaper whenever spiderman was mentioned, but so was every other human being in your city.
so when you began noticing how markâs late-night appearances and âfashionably lateâ activities began lining up with the famous building-swinging superhero, your mind put the pieces together.
you tried to understand his point of view and why he wouldnât reveal this very key detail about himself. it hurt you, though, feeling as though there was something in you that made him not feel comfortable enough to expose himself to you.
so, you compiled a plan to get the truth out of him organically, or as organically as this could be.
âwha⊠what do you mean?â your boyfriendâs head quickly snapped up, turning on his palm to face you with a questionable look knitted into his features.
a smile teasingly pulled on your lips, knowing you had hit a sore spot in his ego. how couldnât he be proud of himself? after all, he was known as the hero of your city.
âi donât know,â you continued, leaning back against the couch, watching your boyfriend swing from building to building on the screen in front of your bodies. âhe just seems too full of himself, like cool you can swing from buildings and hang upside down, but we have police and firefighters for a reason!â
it took everything in you to not break character, slowly watching markâs face grow red at your painful statements. he just looked at you, eyes blown wide and brows pulled so close together that you were certain he could get stuck like that.
with a small giggle, you reached out, brushing your thumb between the crease in his brows and bringing it down to caress his cheek.
âwhatâs with the face, baby? donât tell me you're obsessed with him too.â his face slowly relaxed as your soft hand held his face, but his brain was still scrambling with your previous statements.
how could you find him not absolutely amazing? he could swing from buildings and hang upside down!
âyou donât think heâs cool? not even a little bit?â markâs eyes followed yours to the screen. spiderman now being shown saving an older woman from getting mugged.
âi think heâs cool, i guess.â you looked back at your boyfriend only to find his eyes already on your face, his previous expression appearing again. âbabe, you canât be serious.â mark leaned back, feeling completely bewildered by your nonchalant attitude towards his heroic duties.
âitâs not that big of a deal."itâs not like youâre spiderman, so why should it matter if i like him or not?â you titled your head away from the screen to watch his eyes grow wide, and you could audibly hear his breath hitch.
âbutâŠâ he quickly let out before catching himself, looking at the tv to see his segment disappear. âbut what?â you teased, beginning to feel bad for your ministrations.
he looked back at your face, sighing heavily. ânothing, just like the guy a bit," he said before lying back in your lap to hide his face from you.
this was going to be a lot harder than you thought.
âhey baby~â mark cooed as he stepped into your apartment, takeout bags in hand. you quickly sprung up from your spot at the counter, running to hug your boyfriend after not seeing him for awhile.
after your first attempt to disclose his true identity was unsuccessful, you held off from bringing up the topic for awhile.
but you had finally decided to take a different approach this time.
âi missed you, pretty girl.â the nickname made your cheeks heat up as his cold hands held your face in front of his. he inspected you lovingly, relishing in the fact that he could finally hold you without school being in the way.
âmissed you too," you replied before kissing him softly. mark dropped the plastic bag on the counter beside him, pulling you firmly against him. his lips were almost enough to make you forget about your plan.
almost.
âgod, iâm hungry.â you pulled away, making him laugh at your cute antics, and he joined you on your couch to eat. as you sat, you pulled off your (markâs) sweatshirt to reveal the key details of your plan.
mark quickly noticed the black spiderman logo displayed across your chest, at a loss for how quickly your opinion of him changed. âyou like?â you asked, flaunting the red baby tee you had bought earlier that day.
âi- i thought you thought spiderman was stupid." he nearly choked on his food, trying not to blush at the image of his girl repping him like this.
âi never said he was stupid, mark. i just thought he was overhyped, but i now understand where all the love is coming from.â you looked down, ogling at your new shirt, sure of its effect on your boyfriend.
âohâŠâ he tried to fight the grin, trying to cover his lips, but couldnât contain his relief. âglad you finally came around, baby.â he smiled before shoving his face with more food.
âyouâre not jealous?â you asked, beginning to take on step two of your plan. âhe is a guy, after all.â
this made mark actually choke on his food. âwhat? why would i be jealous about that?"
âi mean, your girlfriend wearing a shirt for some muscular superhero who is most definitely sickly hot under that skin tight suit he wears while saving lives." you went on swirling your fork in your food, looking up every so often to see markâs cheeks darken at the compliments.
he held his head down, but not enough for his flushed ears and cheeks to go unoticed. âwhy are you so red, baby? i still like you more, you know; spiderman canât take you away from me.â you reached over and combed your fingers through his hair to feign worry.
âthat is, unless he happens to swing by and sweep me up with his insane muscles.â you winked, making your boyfriend turn into a tomato.
âyeah, you wish he would do that.â mark joked, trying to deflate his growing pride, which you continued to boost.
âwhat? are you saying iâm not worthy of spidermanâs fantastic biceps picking me up and swinging me through the night sky?â mark looked at you quizzically.
you couldnât be serious, could you?
mark discarded his food, crawling over to trap you beneath his body. "fantastic, you say... and what are these?â he made reference to his own muscular arms peeking through his fitted white tee.
"marvelous," you replied, sliding your fingers softly over your boyfriend's muscles. how lovely it was that you didnât have to dream of spidermanâs biceps as they sat right in front of you.
âbetter than fantastic in my book.â mark smiled before catching your lips in his.
your spiderman shirt was soon discarded in that moment but continued to linger in markâs head days later.
âiâm just gonna go grab a few things. i promise i wonât be long.â you stood in your doorway, attempting to run to the store to get a few things before it got too late.
mark hated this.
âwhy cant i just go get it or go with you?â mark wrapped his arms around you from behind, making it increasingly difficult to slide on your shoes. he kissed you all over your neck and face, held your hand, pulled at your jacket sleeves, and even attempted to block the door entirely to try and get you to stay, but you were as determined as you ever were.
âiâm a grown woman, mark. i can run down the block by myself.â you turned around in his arms, reaching for your keychain next to his head on the wall, hanging by a hook.
âitâs dangerous out there. wouldnât want my pretty girl getting hurt.â he slouched against the wall, still holding onto your hand as your whole body nearly made it out the door.
âgood thing spiderman will be there to save me from any danger.â you teased him before slamming the door in his face, preventing him from getting anymore words out. not that he could form any from your statement anyway.
as you made your way through the isles of the tiny convenience store down the block from your place, you began to notice a dark figure popping into your vision.
a man decked out in all black and wearing a dark baseball cap pulled down just enough to hide his eyes followed your trail through the store.
he just coincidentally needs the same things, plus itâs freezing outside. thatâs why heâs covered up so much, you thought. you can't say much about covering up with your giant black puffer jacket nearly swallowing you whole.
as your shopping trip continued, you couldnât help but notice the figure not picking up a single item they inspected.
how weird, you thought.
âhave a nice night!â the sweet cashier bid you goodbye before you quickly made your way out of the store.
as you exited the glass doors, the figure from earlier greeted you outside. your steps increased in speed as you noticed the figure continuing to follow your path.
you: mark could you meet me outside
you: creepy dude wonât stop following me
you: dude answer the phone
you: mark come on this is serious
you huffed, knowing the figure was still following you from a distance and aggravated by mark ignoring your texts.
âwhatâs a pretty girl like you doing out here alone at night?â the figure spoke from your side, somehow managing to come up beside you without you noticing.
you stayed silent, pretending to be interested in the cement beneath your feet.
âhey! iâm talking to you!â the voice barked, noticeably irritated by your lack of interest. âi asked you a question, bitch!â a hand grabbed your wrist tightly, stopping you in your tracks.
thinking it was the figure, your body froze seeing spiderman right in front of you. stumbling back, you watched your hero step in and fight off the creepy man, knocking him over before webbing him to the alley wall ahead.
âtry and speak to her again, and youâll get much worse than a few webs on you.â the familiar voice of your boyfriend came out deep and threatening, making your breath hitch. you had never heard him speak like that.
while the bum continued to try and yell through the webs plastered over his mouth, spiderman turned to check on you.
âeverything all right? he didnât touch you or hurt you, babe- i mean, mam?â the fumbling of words made you laugh slightly, knowing the dork under the mask.
âiâm all right, thanks to you, spiderman.â you swooned, so caught up with the fact that your own boyfriend was spiderman and that he had practically beaten and webbed a man to a wall for you.
âwhat could i ever do to repay you?â you asked, trying not to trip over your own feet at the way the suit hugged markâs muscle so well. more than any t-shirt ever could.
âjust doing my job, as always.â spiderman leaned his body against the wall smoothly, resting his head against his fist. you two stood there in a few seconds of silence, both not knowing what to do.
âyou better get headed home; itâs getting late.â he coughed, finally breaking out of his daze.
âno swinging around the city for me?â you asked, pretty disappointed that your boyfriend was about to make you walk home alone. âno can do, web swinging with lovely ladies is a daytime activity only; i wouldnât want anyone to miss it.â he pulled his body from the wall, shooting up a web to hang from a sign above your heads.
âwhat a shame. guess youâll just have to give me a show of the city another day," you replied, watching as mark swung his legs over the sign to hang upside down effortlessly.
definitely trying to impress me, you thought.
âi can see what i can do.â he crossed his arms over his chest before you stepped forward on your tiptoes, placing your hand on his cheek, making him short circuit.
âthanks again, spiderman.â you spoke, leaning into him to place a quick kiss on his mask-covered cheek.
âof-of course. any day, mam,â his voice cracked at your actions, making you laugh as you turned away to walk home.
mark hung in bliss before realizing he was supposed to be at your place, not saving your life in a spidey suit.
you rushed through the door, dropping your bag on the ground and making a beeline to your room. the only place with a window mark could slide through without getting caught.
you swung open your door to reveal a maskless spiderman half way through your bedroom window, eyes wide, body frozen.
you froze in shock, almost surprised that your plan had finally worked. "gotcha," you smiled, leaning against your door frame satisfied.
âuhâŠâ mark scrambled, attempting to put his mask back on as if it would make you forget seeing his face entirely. as he tripped and tumbled around your room, you slowly made you way behind him.
âmark,â you began, attempting to get him to calm down. âbaby,â you turned him slowly as he finally got his mask back on. âmark? whoâs mark? that your boyfriend or something?â he attempted to deepen his voice to throw you off.
he realized this was unsurprisingly unsuccessful, noticing the smirk that continued to show on your face. âyou know him, donât you, spiderman? heâs the boy who just kicked ass and saved my life less than ten minutes ago.â you said, gently pulling off his mask to reveal your boyfriendâs face.
he stared at you, not knowing how you felt. âlook, i can explain this all,â he nervously let out as he looked anywhere but your eyes.
before he could explain, you kissed him softly, wanting to ease his worry and express your gratitude. he saved your life after all, and not just by being spiderman.
âiâm not mad, not at all.â you looked into his eyes, noticing how at ease he seemed to be at the relief of your words.
âiâm so sorry i didnât tell you sooner. i was so scared you wouldnât want to be with me or be scared of me,â he ranted, trying to make you see his side in case you had lied and were even the littlest bit mad at him. he hated when you were mad at him more than anything.
âwhy would i not want to be with you? i love you, mark, so much, itâs crazy.â you pulled his face into your hands in disbelief at his words. âand plus, how could i be scared of such a handsome, strong, crime-fighting superhero who so happens to double as my boyfriend. if anything, people should fear me,â you joked, ripping a laugh from his lips.
âhow long have you known?â he asked, pulling you closer by your waist. biting your lip, you looked down, trying to hold back your laugh. âremember when you borrowed my notes for class and forgot to give them back?"
you didnât even have to finish, seeing the realization wash over his face as the words fell from your lips.
âyeah, maybe putting your suit in your backpack wasnât the best place.â you both laughed at the situation at hand; mark was completely dumbfounded.
âso thatâs why you talked such shit about me and bought that stupid shirt!â he continued to put together the pieces, gripping your waist tighter as he laughed at his own stupidity.
"ding, ding, ding!â you replied, pulling away slightly to take in his whole look, still not being used to see him like this up close. âyeah, definitely need to see you in this more often now."
mark flushed, turning into putty in your presence. your eyes traveled all over the intricate details and meshing of the suit. how it hugged his body and made him look completely unreal.
âdo a little spin for me, doll.â you teased, wanting to ease up all the pent-up emotions still hanging in the air. mark giggled at your stupid comment but did as you asked nonetheless, turning slowly for you.
turning completely to the back, not a second went by before mark felt a harsh slap on his skin. âfuck baby! what was that for?â he whined, reaching down to rub the irritated spot.
"sorry, i couldnât help myself when you have an ass like that, mark lee.â you smiled at his pained expression, putting your arms back to lean against your vanity, still ogling at your boyfriendâs physique.
âguess i really do need to wear this more around you.â he placed his hands on either side of you, trapping you beneath him.
âmaybe the story time can wait till later.â you breathed before his lips pressed themselves to yours.
âi love you so much, my girl."
âi love you too, spidey boy.â
now you had mark completely to yourself, spiderman and all with no secrets left to hide.
© martiniblues | do not copy or translate my work!
note | more spider!mark WHAT CAN I SAYYY WHAT CAN I SAYYY. heâs literally my fav mark to write ever like pleaseee get him as the korean peter parker asap!!! anyways, hope you loved this and my request box is always open <333
#nct#nct dream#nct dream fic#nct fluff#nct 127#nct 127 fic#mark lee#mark lee fic#mark lee fluff#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#nct mark#nct mark lee#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct angst#mark lee angst
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madly in love - mark lee
summary -> mark had always been the hopeless romantic type
a/n -> from my old account again trying to clear out drafts
âI think Iâm genuinely, wholeheartedly obsessed with you.â
one beat. two. the words hung dry in the air for several seconds, fervently waiting for you to unhook and catch them, but you remained still.
mark did too. he seemed transfixed on the traffic below, his eyes cast on the hundreds of tiny blue and red lights that rhythmically flowed through your city like blood pumping through veins.
as the silence grew louder, your skin became warmer. you wished you could read his thoughts.
plucking out a strand of grass that stood between your crossed legs and above the rest, you spoke, âsounds clinical.â
âIt is.â he was quick, as if he had been waiting with baited breath. you could hear his smile so vividly.
a breeze blew.
âIs it deadly?â there was humor in your voice, but that gasping laugh of his you were accustomed to did not follow.
markâs shoulders only twitched. âmaybe.â
another breeze.
when the quiet settled once more, you stretched your legs out before the steep hill you sat on and laid on the turf behind. It was only then that mark finally turned to look at you, as if he was seeking permission to do so, waiting for the standstill between the two of you to end.
you did not expect to see the sincerity that resided in his eyes.
with an inhale, your eyelids slowly closed shut, ears perked to every whistle of the wind and every honk of a distant car. âIâll find a cure then.â
the sound of rustling could be heard until a familiar warmth nestled itself beside you. he teasingly tapped the tip of his shoe to yours, but to you it seemed more like a plea.
âno.â the slight tremor to his voice made it hard to breath. âI happen to really like having this particular obsession.â he was whispering, cool breath brushing tenderly over the curve of your ear, like sweet caresses.
cautiously, you swallowed. âeven if it kills you?â It was hardly even a murmur.
mark was nodding. âeven if it kills me.â
#nct#nct dream#nct dream fic#nct fluff#nct 127#nct 127 fic#mark lee#mark lee fic#mark lee fluff#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#nct mark#nct mark lee#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct angst#mark lee angst#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fluff#nct dream imagine#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream x reader#mark x reader#mark x y/n#mark x you#mark lee x y/n#mark fanfic
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Warning!Nsfw audio
Mark loves it when you use him for your pleasuređ€
#mark lee smau#mark lee#lee mark#mark lee smut#nct mark#nct mark lee#mark smut#mark lee nct dream#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x you#nct smut#nct smau#nct imagines#nct scenarios
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no clue (l.mk)
mark lee x fem!reader
wc: 11.6k
summary: mark realizes how long itâs been since heâs gotten laid, immediately heading to a party. heâs quick to find you, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. except now, he canât stop thinking about you. how bad is it really if he ends up falling in love with his one night stand?
warnings: strangers to lovers, smut (MDNI), fluff, mild angst, one night stand, miscommunication and communication, reader is cautious, oral (both receiving), missionary, desperation, dirty talk, dry humping, softdom!mark, sub!reader
heavily inspired by tongues - the frights
part two to the how it all goes series!
mark doesnât think heâs a person who acts on instinct.
he believes he at least has some self control. he wonât go out if he knows he has work to finish, knows his limits, and has pretty good time management if you ask him. he can control himself whenever he needs to, but he has his off days. everyone does.
which is why he canât really explain how he ended up between your thighs.
he can hear the squelch of his fingers in your cunt, his mouth wrapped around your clit as he moans into you. your hands are threaded into his hair, moaning out his name, still unfamiliar on your tongue. heâs never really jumped into something like this before, but he canât say he doesnât like it. he really canât, thoughts filled with only how good you taste.
he can feel how your thighs shake around him, trying to close shut when his fingers reach your sweet spot. he pries your legs apart, moving his mouth away from you to whine out, âneed you to stop moving so much, wanna keep tasting you.â
he makes eye contact with you as he licks a stripe up your cunt, watching how your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. out of the people that markâs been with, he thinks that you might be the sweetest person heâs tasted. he wouldnât mind being in between your thighs, wouldnât mind hearing all your pretty moans.
your hands make it to his hair, threading through the strands as he eats you out. you tug on it when something feels particularly good. he grunts against you, mouth sucking on your clit as the stinging pain makes his blood pump a little faster. all that he can hear are the lewd sounds of your cunt, the moans of his name, and his own breathing. âm-mark, iâm close. please donât stop, youâre doing so good.â
he canât slow down now, adding a third finger as he licks at your clit. he watches as your back arches, suddenly too aware of his dick straining against his pants. he tugs you close to his face, âneed you to cum. want you to cum all over me so i can fuck your pretty pussy.â
he watches you nod, your hips rolling to meet his face as you moan out his name, hands gripping onto his hair as you cum. he hears himself let out an embarrassing moan, affected by your sounds and taste. he doesnât stop his ministrations, helping you ride out your orgasm.
if he could, heâd spend all day here, licking up your cum as you cry out his name. with a tired laugh, you push his head away, almost enjoying the sad look on his face. your hand moves to cup the side of his face, âyou did so good, mark. you want me to help you?â
his eyes widen a little, almost as if he wasnât expecting anything to happen. you sit up, hands moving to unbutton and unzip his pants. his hands hover over yours, shaking as he watches you. ây-youâll⊠youâll suck me off?â
you pull his pants down to his thigh, âwell, you did say earlier that you wanted to fuck me so⊠would you like to fuck me?â
he blinks at you, âreally?â
âof course,â you laugh, âi know how bad you want to, and i know i want it, too. probably even more than you.â
you watch him scramble off the bed, taking off his pants as quickly as possible. he leaves his boxers on, making it back between the space between your thighs. you watch him slowly take his boxers on, watch how his cock slaps against his stomach. heâs leaking, and you wonder how exactly heâs held back for so long.
he strokes his length a few times, enjoying how you squirm around in impatience. he thinks you look cute like this, the thought dancing around in his head. he canât keep himself away from you for too long, shifting closer to you. he rubs his length across your slit, letting your slick coat his cock.
your breath hitches when his tip hits your clit, mark leaning down to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his tongue, and you can feel how his hips continue to grind against your cunt. you can only take so much before you start begging, âmark, please. need you to fuck me already, need to feel you inside me already.â
he likes how pretty your voice sounds begging for him. it pushes him over the edge, moving to line himself at your entrance. he can feel how wet you are, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. he lets out a low groan as he pushes in, your tight walls taking all his thoughts away.
itâs been too long for him, fighting against himself as he goes as slowly as he can. heâs patient, even as your nails dig into his back. youâre letting out small whimpers, getting used to the stretch his cock offers you. he waits for you to get used to the feeling, even if his cock is twitching inside you.
when you tell him he can move, he experimentally thrusts against you. you feel too good, and heâs not sure how long he can last, especially with how long itâs been for him. at your whines, he tries setting a steady rhythm for you. his hips only stutter a bit when you clench around him, his eyes fluttering close.
you throw your head back when mark hits your sweet spot, and mark needs to hear all the pretty sounds you just made again. he grinds his hips as close as he can, eyes threatening to shut at how deep he feels inside you. his eyes watch where you two are connected, a thumb moving to your neglected clit.
one of your hands moves to grope at your own boob, rolling a nipple in between your fingers. mark needs to help you, he decides, quickly swatting your hand away as he moves his face to the valley of your chest. he takes a nipple into his mouth, hand rubbing over your other boob.
heâs all over you, every part of his body moving to make you cum. you lay there, practically sobbing at how good heâs making you feel. âkeep going, mark! please donât stop, need you so bad!â
your words make him dizzy, thrusts slowing to grind into you. he can feel how your slick has coated his thighs, how messy this all is. he doesnât care, not when he gets to see you like this under him. youâre crying out for him, tears pricking at your eyes from how good heâs making you feel. he wouldnât mind getting to see this everyday.
the thought quickly leaves him when you tell him youâre about to cum. your nails scrape along his back, surely leaving marks for him to see tomorrow. youâre clenching around him tightly, his hips fighting to keep moving. most importantly, youâre calling out his name so sweetly, almost as if heâs the only thing you can think of.
ây-yeah, youâre gonna cum all over my cock?â he stutters, âgonna make a mess all over me?â
âyes, please, mark, please keep going!â
it doesnât take long for you to cum. heâs doing everything right, hitting every spot he could reach. you let go, a loud whimper leaving you as you roll your hips against him. heâs gripping onto your thighs, leaving bruises against your skin. youâre happy that you said yes to him, happy that you could have probably one of the best orgasms of your life.
mark cums soon after you, the image of you too much for him to handle. he groans out a fuck, enjoying the warmth of your pussy before pulling out. he jerks himself off quickly, noting how your bleary eyes watch him. he cums all over your pussy, watches how it drips down near your clenching hole.
heâs breathing heavily at the sight, hears your tired cry as you lay against the pillow of the bed. heâs not sure if he should go get something to clean you up or if he should just stay here with you. heâs sure he doesnât want to leave just yet, enjoying the look of you so fucked out because of him.
not because he thinks you look pretty, even more so like this.
his thoughts are cut off by the way you call his name. thereâs a smile on your face, and despite being tired, you tug at his arm to bring him down by you. he faces you, a pretty blush on his face. he never really knows how to end these kinds of things, not that he really has experience to think about.
it doesnât feel awkward, but mark canât stop thinking of too many things at once. he canât just leave you like this, but wouldnât it be weird to sleep next to you? you arenât exactly a stranger, but he canât call you a friend, or even an acquaintance. he barely knows you, knows your name and maybe one class you're taking. his mind itches to know more.
your hand brushes the stray hairs out of his face, and he realizes how much he likes the feeling. your hand twitches at your side, slowly reaching out to him to make him wrap an arm around your waist. itâs quiet when this happens, mark trying to decide whether he should say something or not.
you beat him to it, âyou did so good. iâm glad i got to do this with you, mark.â
heâs silent for a few seconds, fingers moving up and down at your side, âiâm happy, too- i mean, like, doing this with you.â
you hum out, letting the conversation fade out as you snuggle into the sheets. you donât mind that his arm is still wrapped around you as you try to sleep. you try not to pay attention to the satisfied sigh he lets out once he settles into the sheets. youâre not sure if youâll see him again, and even if you do, you know you probably wonât be talking to him.
either way, youâll be gone by the morning.
mark can recall everything he did last night once he wakes up. it all flashes in his head before heâs fully conscious.Â
he remembers walking up to you, probably too confident as he flirts with you. he remembers your smiling face as you lead him into an empty room, locking the door behind you as he presses you against the wall. he remembers how soft your lips were against his, how sweet you tasted, and how nice you felt wrapped around him.
most importantly, he remembers how good it felt to sleep next to you, how nice it felt to have you wrapped in his arms. but now, as he fights off sleep, he sees youâre not there next to him. he shouldnât be surprised, it was only supposed to be a one time thing. but he canât help how cold it feels in this bed that isnât even his.
for just last night, this room was something that was shared between the two of you. now, itâs just a random room that he woke up alone in. well, he shouldnât be too alone here knowing haechan is probably crashed out at this now quiet frat house. he gathers his clothes that are scattered across the room, slipping them back on.
they feel different now, suddenly too dressy for the morning. the door's unlocked when he gets to it, quietly opening it as he peers out into the hallway. thereâs no one there, mark tiptoeing down the stairs as he looks around for haechan. as expected, heâs sleeping almost too peacefully on a stranger's couch. thereâs other people there too, but mark canât help but laugh at the sight of his friend.
he doesnât bother being gentle with haechan, quickly shaking his shoulder to wake him up. haechan groans, and mark contemplates if he should just throw water on him. as if haechan could hear his thoughts, he shoots straight up, gasping for air like he just got revived from being dead. he looks at mark with wide eyes, practically gasping for air.
âare you alright, dude?â
âiâm⊠fine? i had the craziest nightmare that i was about to go down a waterfall.â
âhow is that even-â mark just sighs, deciding not to question him, âletâs go already. letâs leave these poor people alone.â
haechan stumbles a bit when he gets up, dramatically letting himself cling onto markâs shoulders. they walk about the house as if nothing happened, as if mark didnât meet you in there. he drags out haechan, noticing how heâs staying surprisingly silent. mark doesnât mind walking back to campus, not minding how pretty the blue sky above him looks.
suddenly, haechan says, âare you hungry?â
mark mulls on it before speaking, âi guess i could eat. you wonât get, like, sick or anything?â
âno,â haechan hums, âiâm actually feeling pretty good right now. i do wanna ask how you feel.â haechan raises his eyebrows suggestively at mark, causing mark to pull away from haechan, almost letting him fall to the ground.
âyou are so weird.â
haechan laughs at that, âyouâre acting like you wonât tell me all about it once we start eating.â
mark doesnât deny it, trying to change the subject, âyouâre paying, right?â
âno way! i took you to that party, you owe me!â
mark ends up begrudgingly paying for both their meals. he probably wouldâve paid either way, he thinks as he watches haechan gulf down his food. mark is slower, taking a few bites as he picks at his food. he canât stop thinking about what you might be doing, canât stop thinking about the fact that youâre still lingering in his mind.
without realizing, mark asks, âhow bad is it if iâm still thinking about who i slept with last night?â
haechan looks up at him, his cheeks full with food. he takes his time to contemplate mark's words, chewing slowly on his food before speaking. he clears his throat, âwell, what exactly are you thinking about? like, sexually, orâŠâ he whispers at the end of his sentence, âromantically?â
mark feels embarrassed when he realizes itâs both. he could just lie and say it was the first option, but he canât bring himself to.Â
haechan doesnât need to hear mark say his answer when he can see mark become more and more red. he knows mark is more of a relationship kind of guy, but really? he points his fork at mark, and in the nicest way possible, he questions him, âwell, how much do you know about her?â
mark has to think about his answer. heâs never really seen you on campus or at any of the parties heâs been to. he knows your name⊠and how you look. turns out he doesnât really know too much about you, but it feels more than that to mark. mark huffs out an answer, ânot a lot, actually. but i do want to get to know her more! i feel like, like we really couldâve hit it off if it were any other timeâŠâ
âare you sure youâre not in love with her pussy or something?â
mark quickly shushes haechan, âwhy would you say that out loud where anyone could hear us?â
haechan brushes off his words, âitâs just⊠what if that was supposed to be the only time that you guys were meant to be together. you canât just force someone to talk to you.â
âbut-â
ânope. one, you donât know her that well. two, if you do ever talk to her, given if she even wants to talk to you, what are you gonna say?â
âyou know,â mark starts, really trying to come up with anything, âask how sheâs been?â
haechan threatens to throw his crumbled napkin at mark.
mark stares at his half eaten plate, not really knowing what else to say. heâs never seen you before, and last night was quite literally the first time heâs ever seen you. heâs not sure how he hasnât before, not when you were so easy to pick out of a room full of people. maybe haechan is right, if he really wanted to know you, he shouldâve already tried before.
he'll convince himself it was just a one time thing.
when mark came up to you at the party, it was the second time you had ever seen him.
he still looked the same as how he did when you first saw him during your freshman year. he still looks a bit boyish, but somehow obviously more grown up. you saw him slowly walk up to you after apparently getting a pep talk from a friend. you had quickly pieced together who the two were, and how exactly you remembered them.
it was one of your first weeks of college. you were hanging out with a friend, quietly talking outside the room that your class was about to be held in. you didnât want to be late, but you also didnât want to be the first person walking in there. that was embarrassing, but it was also embarrassing just standing out here like you wouldnât be entering in a few minutes.
you and your friend were sharing hushed whispers to one another, probably talking about an upcoming assignment you really didnât want to do. you watch your friend pull out her phone to mindlessly scroll before class starts. you were about to do the same when you heard loud voices quickly pass through the hall.
the voices are too loud for the quiet hall, cringing lightly before you hear thundering footsteps coming your way. in a flash, you see a guy dragging another guy down the hall with him. you hear stop pulling so hard! and a hurry up! as they pass by you. you make eye contact with the one being dragged, his eyes looking apologetic for how loud theyâre being.
as soon as they arrive, theyâre fast to go. you hear your friend laugh next to you while you just shake your head in disapproval. you click your tongue before talking, âweâre in college and thereâs men still acting like children.â
she giggles at your words, âi think they might just be like that.â
âdo you know them?â
ânot really, no. i just know their names. the guy who was doing the dragging is always loud like that. i guess the other guy gets caught up in it.â
you nod at her words. you hear the elevator doors open and you wonder if the two entered in together, praying the ride would be fast to whatever event they were late to. you let out a sigh, âthe one being dragged looked at me like he was sorry.â
when she laughs, she bumps into your side, âi think his name is mark. iâm pretty sure theyâre roommates.â
with a frown, you add, âi hope theyâre late to wherever theyâre going,â your friend laughs at this, âpeople are starting to get in class, letâs go.â
now, the second time you meet mark, it feels like youâre being properly introduced. he comes up to you, only slightly faltering when you look at him with a smile on your face. you wonder if he remembers you all those years ago, wonders if he remembers feeling sorry for you. he probably doesnât with the way he tries flirting with you.
itâs not like you donât expect it, knowing he had to go through a whole pep talk before this, but you still feel surprised. he doesnât look like someone who would be this forward, but you canât say you didnât like it.
he asks for your name (proving he really doesnât know you), and asks how the party is going for you. cocking your head slightly, you answer his questions, noticing how his eyes dart down to your lips occasionally. it doesnât take long for you both to head up to a room together, full of giggles and laughs.
you didnât realize how much you would be into this, into him. he was desperate, hands all over you as he groaned into your mouth. you thought you would have to beg him to eat you out, but he was the one practically whining out to have a taste of you. itâs even better once he starts fucking you, taking care of every single need of yours before his own.
itâs over faster than you want it to be. he looks a little panicked afterwards, confused on what exactly he should do. you wonder how often he does this, if he even does this at all. you brush it off by asking him to come lay down by you. he presumably pushes all his worries away to lay behind you, arm tentatively wrapping around your side.
you wonder if you pushed it too far by asking him to sleep with you like this. you both couldâve left the room together, parted ways for the night, and probably never see each other again. it makes you think if this was all he wanted with you. sex. itâs not that you were hoping for more, but mark seems like a nice guy.
you have a quick conversation, thanking him for tonight. it feels too formal, almost as if you were ending a date. this is mark, someone you donât know well and have never talked to. you donât know why you push the hairs out of his face or why you let him wrap his arm around you. you should keep distance between you two, but you donât.
itâs hard to explain what you really want right now, but all you can do is fall asleep in his hold.
you wake up earlier than mark, watching his chest rise and fall.
you find yourself cuddled into his side, using his arm like a pillow. you get up quietly to not disturb him, picking up your clothes from the night before. you hate staying at a random personâs place, but what else can you do in a situation like this. you find your phone, looking at your friends messages saying how sheâs back at your shared apartment.
you send her a quick text that youâre heading back soon. you wonder what sheâd say about all this, wonder if she remembers your encounter with mark from all those years ago. you take one last look at mark, sleeping peacefully on the bed, unknowing that youâre about to leave him there by himself.
you ponder on leaving your phone number for a few moments. nothing bad could come from it, but you donât know if he would even want to see you after this. you bite your lip as you unlock the door, slipping out into the quiet frat house. you spot his friend passed out on a couch, a few others sleeping on the floor or other seats.
you debate on walking back to your apartment, but youâre sore everywhere. you mentally curse out mark as you try to find an uber, wincing when you look at the prices. you try to convince yourself that it's better than walking, better than waiting for the bus, and better than having to hear everyone else talk.Â
once your ride arrives, you're quick to hop in. itâs quiet for the most part, the radio playing a song youâre not too familiar with. you mull over every decision you've made within the past twelve hours, and as much as you want to regret every single one, you canât. it was a good night, you met a good person, and you got good sex out of it. whatâs there to complain about?
you canât help but wonder how mark feels.
a few days pass, nothing really exciting happens.
you have class, you go to your job, and with the free time you have, you study or hangout with your friends. todayâs a day where you've been out for a while, your friends dragging you out of your apartment and away from all the stress of a job and studying. even though you complain, theyâre quick to see the smile on your face once youâre actually out.Â
thereâs few times where you hang out at the campus. after your freshman year, you stayed close to the areas around your apartment. the campus felt too far and suddenly felt like it was only there for business. but your friends insist on eating on the quad. itâs a nice day, and you canât really say no to eating outside with warm weather and friends around you.
you donât know what possesses you to look over your shoulder, but you do. you regret it immediately, noticing mark walking down a sidewalk to wherever heâs going. youâre not sure why you stare for so long, itâs not like you want to know where heâs going or who he could be meeting with. he does look nice when heâs dressed casually, though.
you realize you mightâve stared for too long once you see him turn back at you. itâs quick, but he does a double take, realizing itâs you thatâs staring at him. you quickly whip your head back to your friends, internally panicking on what you should do. you have about twenty seconds to decide if he does come over.
this would be your first time seeing mark after the party, probably your second time seeing mark on campus at all. does he even want to say hi? and what will your friends think? theyâll wonder why youâre trying so hard to ignore the man that is currently walking towards you. you donât really want to talk about it just yet.
you realize you might have to when you hear mark call out your name. you take a deep breath, slowly turning around to give him a small wave. you can feel the gazes of your friends fall onto you without even having to look at them. thereâs a soft smile on his face, hands wrapping around his backpack straps as he gets closer.
âuh, hey, how are you?â he asks a little awkwardly
âiâm doing fine? how are you?â you can hear your friends whisper behind you as you feel the back of your neck go hot.
âiâve doing fine, iâve just⊠been thinking about you. you kinda just, like, left that morning.â
you sigh, fingers moving to play with the grass under you. is he really thinking about that night? does he expect you to want to do it again? you shrug, âyeah, i didnât really know what else to do. i didnât want to stay there all by myself.â
âoh, sorry. i couldâve⊠walked out with you- i mean, if you had asked.â
âno, itâs okay. i know your friend was still there.â
he nods, âyeah, i know. but, um, if youâre not busy soon, then can we hang out? just us two?â
youâre a little shocked that he can just ask that so casually. itâs like youâve both been friends for so long, as if it was always normal for him to ask the girls he meets up with to hang out. in another world, you would probably say yes to him, but you canât think of a good reason to tell him yes. âmark,â you start, âiâll be busy this whole week so⊠iâm not sure if iâll be able to.â
he takes a few moments to take in your words. he stares at you before finally staring at the floor. he nods slowly, offering you an apologetic smile before speaking, âthatâs fine, i just wanted to see-â he takes a breath, âwanted to see what you would say.â
you let out a small sorry, and he takes it as a sign that itâs time for him to go. he takes a few steps back, watching as you give him an apologetic look. âiâll, uh, maybe see you again? soon? i mean, like, if you ever want to.â
you feel a little awkward as you try to avoid any more eye contact with him. âyeah. iâll see you, mark.â
he takes a few more steps back before fully turning around. you look at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he spares you a few more glances. he looks a little disappointed, but he doesnât try to force you into what you donât want to do. thatâs a good thing about him, you think.
you let out a heavy exhale, now fully facing your friends. when you notice the silence among the group, you look up. everyone is staring at you with smiles on their faces, their faces practically begging for you to say something. you bite back a laugh as you try to ignore it, but one of them speaks up, âwhat even was that?â
you huff, âjust⊠someone i met the other night.â
if you ever meet mark lee again after this, you might just have to curse him out for having to awkwardly explain to your friends what just happened.
itâs another day when you're back on campus.
thereâs no friends this time around, no way for you to relax. you have a class today, getting upset with your past-self for thinking you could wake up this early for a class. you usually try to grab a quick snack beforehand to keep yourself awake. you make your way to your campusâs coffee shop. it might be 50/50 on whether itâs good or not, but itâs closer than anything else.
you think you deserve a sweet treat, a chocolate muffin that would probably cure every single thing thatâs happened to you these past weeks (that also somehow all lead back to mark lee). you donât really expect anything but a long line of other students waiting to order, but there you see the man himself, mark lee, sitting at a bench.Â
youâve learned your lesson from last time, quickly moving out of his sight and choosing not to stare at him. you make your way to the line, trying hard to ignore him. your eyes subconsciously move to look at the side of his face. heâs wearing glasses, hanging low on his nose as he scrolls through his phone.
you wonder if heâs waiting for his friend or if heâs just waiting for his class to start. thereâs an impulse to walk over to him and make conversation, smiling as you ask about his morning. youâd be willing to be a bit late to your class if it meant to talk to him more. youâre just not sure heâd feel the same way.
you watch as he looks up from his phone, rolling his head around to stretch. before he can catch you staring you look away, straight ahead to the menu in front of you. you have to wonder if youâre making this hard for yourself on purpose. you donât have to think about him so much, especially if he might not even be thinking about you.
well, heâs thinking about you, but probably not in the way youâre thinking about him. it makes you sad, you couldâve at least been friends with him. even now, as you stare at him a few feet away, you could easily eat your snack with him. you could laugh at how nervous he gets, could get him to warm up to you as he gets more comfortable.
but you donât.
you pay for your muffin, wait for it to be handed to you, and take a whole separate route to your class. before you walk out of the building, you take one last look at him, watching how he stares off into the distance. you donât want him to see you, quickly walking off away from him.
what you miss is mark staring at you as you walk away. thereâs a small smile on his face, seeing you rush off. he doesnât care that this is the second time heâs seen you, doesnât care that you donât even notice him. he likes seeing you like this, so different than how you presented yourself at the party, not that itâs a bad thing.
he wishes that he could go up and talk to you, but he doesnât want to make you uncomfortable. when he walked back to his apartment after the day he saw you with your friends, he decided that you probably werenât interested. as much as he wants to talk to you, itâs better to give you your space. he just wishes he never ruined his chances with you.
he checks the time on his phone, wondering how haechan could be so late. before he can pull up his messages with haechan, he shows up. thereâs a lazy smile on his face as he walks down the hall. mark rolls his eyes as haechan gets closer. haechan only chuckles, slugging an arm around markâs shoulder. mark is quick to take it off, earning a quick whine from haechan.
wordlessly, they start moving to their shared class. mark doesnât bother to ask haechan how heâs doing, clearly having a nice morning if he decided to show up so late. haechan laughs when he sees mark so annoyed, patting his shoulder before he speaks, âi have good news, youâll never guess who i saw.â
mark hums disinterestedly, knowing it was probably someone he saw doing something crazy at a party.
âi saw your girl walking by just now.â
mark's head snaps towards his friend, haechan laughing at how wide markâs eyes are. haechan picks up his pace, âthatâs not even the best part. i said hi. and she knew who i was.â
mark furrows his eyebrows, âwhy would you do that? did she⊠did she say anything else?â
âi just asked if she had any plans, but she just shrugged and said she was probably gonna go out this weekend with her friends.â
mark smacks his lips as they near their building. he pushes the door open, air slapping against his face as they step in. he lets out an exasperated sound, âwell, do you know, like, where sheâs going?â
haechan coos at mark, âyouâre so sweet, such a sweet boy. she didnât say, but that doesnât mean we canât try to find out, right?â
mark is deep in thought. if he did find you, and thatâs if he really tried, would you even want to talk to him? heâs not sure if you want that kind of thing with him, but he wonders if he can still try. if you brush him off, then he realizes thatâs probably it. he could respect your opinion, as long as you tell him what you want.
before they enter their class, mark stares at haechan, âright, thereâs no harm in trying.â
mark feels nervous tonight.
it doesnât feel like the last time he went to a party, more confident and driven. now, he has a goal in his mind: to find you. he thinks itâs funny how nervous heâs being, itâs not even guaranteed that heâd see you again, not guaranteed that you would want to talk to him. if it doesnât end up working out, heâll just use tonight as a de-stressor, forcing all thoughts of you away.
haechan helps get his mind off of things on the way there. he doesnât bring you up, chooses to talk about other mundane stuff. it would help more if mark didnât know that haechan was just trying to distract him. it does make him realize how good of a friend heâs been through all of this.
when they get close to the place, haechan has to stop himself from laughing at how nervous mark looks, âyou know she might not even be in there, right? itâs literally a saturday night, she could be anywhere.â
mark lets out the breath heâs been holding, âyeah, i guess.â
âdo whatever you want tonight,â haechan huffs, âthis is about you.â
with that, they enter the house. itâs a lot smaller than the frat, people all around mark as he enters. mark tries to scan the room, but canât quite seem to catch you. youâre easy to spot, so that tells mark that you might not be here. before he can think about it more, haechan drags him off so he can get a drink.
haechan offers him some, but mark declines. if he does see you, he doesnât want to mess it up by being potentially drunk. he tries to look around the room again from this angle, but he still canât find you. it was bound to happen.
heâs about to give up when he notices a group of people move out of their spot, and there you are.
he knows you're there talking to a friend, but he can only see you. you remind him of how he first met you at the other party. he wants to walk over, wants to say hi, wants to talk to you. he forgets that haechan is there, beginning to take a few steps towards you.
heâs quickly stopped by haechan tugging on his arm, a certain look on his face, âare you really doing this?â
âi need to talk to her. even if she tells me to go away, i just- i need to hear it from her.â
haechan lets go of his arm, realizing that this is something that mark is serious about. âi donât want to stop you. iâll be here if you end up getting heartbroken,â haechan jokes.
mark just smiles, nodding before he walks away from him. he stops his hands from shaking as he gets closer. youâre turned away from him, and he doesnât really know what else to do than tap your shoulder. you jump a little before turning around, your eyes wide as you realize itâs mark. he canât help but notice your eyes soften a little when you see itâs just him.
âhey, uh, i didnât expect to see you here.â he says to you.Â
a faint smile forms on your face, âi canât say iâm too surprised to see you.â
he lets out an embarrassed laugh, smiling to himself when he sees you laugh too. looking behind you, he sees your friend smiling at the two of you. you turn back to your friend, a wordless exchange happening in front of mark.
your friend puts her hands up in defeat, looking at mark with a wry smile, âi just got a text from our friend saying she needs help. i guess i have to leave you two alone now!â
mark gives your friend a wave as she says bye to the both of you. she rushes off to another part of the house, mark not missing the mischievous look on her face. now that itâs the two of you alone, shy and awkward smiles exchanged between the two of you. no one really knows what to say or how to start.Â
âhow have you been-â
âitâs been a while-â
you both talk over each other. you stare at each other with wide eyes, quickly laughing to yourselves. mark thinks he should be embarrassed by this, but he takes in how pretty you look while you laugh. he would embarrass himself for hours if it meant to see you smile.
the laughs subside and mark tries to quickly come up with something to say. thereâs so many people around, the music is too loud, and you feel far from him. before he can say anything, you beat it to him, âdo you wanna go somewhere more quiet?â
he canât help but hear the subtle undertone of your words, a double meaning hidden behind them. he nods slowly, watching you grab his arm, just like the other night. he gets dragged through the crowd, weaving through all the people, his eyes remain on your back. your touch is warm, and mark likes having your hand on him.Â
thereâs not a lot of options for a âquiet placeâ in the house. most of the rooms are locked, and the ones that are open have people openly having sex with an unlocked door. mark grimaces at the sight while you laugh at his face. you opt for a restroom, tilting your head at mark, asking if heâs okay with it. he walks in before you, scanning the room and letting you in.
he watches you lock the door, hopping onto the sink counter as you stare at him. he wants to talk to you, he really does, but you staring at his lips makes it quite hard for him. he takes a step closer to you, your hands wrapping around his neck, pulling him flush against the counter. youâre so close to him, and he can feel his heart racing as he recalls his last meeting with you.
he licks his lips, his cheeks hot, eyes wandering all across your face. you chuckle at him, smiling as you say, âcan i kiss you, mark?â
he doesnât even answer you, pressing his lips against yours without hesitation. as much as he wanted to hold back, he seems to lose all control when it comes to you. he canât pretend like you didnât come out in his dreams every single night while also consuming his thoughts in the day. his hands hold your cheeks, almost checking if youâre really there with him.
the kisses are slow, getting used to each other once more. one if his hands slides down to your waist, squeezing at the skin. his tongue licks at your bottom lip, relishing in the small moan you let out. he licks into your mouth, his hand sliding under your shirt. you press your hips close to his, feeling how heâs growing hard in his pants just from kissing.
you canât help but let your hips roll against his, slow and teasing as he lets out a low groan into your mouth. youâre just as needy as he is, always admiring him from afar now that you see him more on campus. itâs weird how the universe works, bringing him to you when all you wanted to do was try to ignore him.
you can feel yourself getting wet, mark grinding into you as he lets out soft pants into your mouth. you take it all in, finally getting what you wanted. you could try to get rid of all the thoughts that you have about him, but itâs hard when heâs⊠mark lee.
youâre becoming more needy, embarrassingly so. mark looks the same, his cheeks pink as he lets out soft grunts of your name. when you start kissing down his jawline, he suddenly pulls his upper half away from you. shock paints your face, and heâs quick to explain himself, âi just- i wanted to, uh-â
âcan you cum like this? itâs okay if you do, mark. i think itâs cute.â
he whines out, âno! well, yeah, i can, but i wanted to-â
âreally, mark. donât worry, iâll let you eat me out afterwards.â
heâs quickly losing the battle, his mouth slowly inching towards you again. his hips buck up at the mention of getting to eat you out, memories of your taste on his tongue playing in his mind. he almost gives up, but heâs determined. he slowly peels himself from you, hooded eyes and a flushed face looking straight at you.
âi, uh, i wanted to talk. i mean, like, talk about⊠i guess, us?â
you catch your breath, squeezing your legs together as you try to calm yourself down, âis there an us? weâve only met up once, and it was for sex.â
âthatâs true, but iâŠâ he trails off a bit, putting his words together, âi want to talk to you more. i want to get to know you, because i really liked being with you the other time.â
you try to hold back any butterflies from forming at his words. as much as you want to give in, you have to be careful, âbut wasnât it just sex? i thought thatâs all you wanted from me.â
his hand moves to your thigh, his thumb smoothing over your skin, âthatâs true, but i didnât expect to like it- like you so much. and i donât expect you to think the same thing, but i just⊠had to tell you.â
you choose to stare at his hand on your thigh instead of his face. itâs easier to avoid how his eyes shine thinking about his feelings for you. itâs not like it wasnât obvious, especially after your friends saw him the other day. you bite the inside of your cheek, âyou like me? even though you donât know me, even if weâve met only once?â
âthatâs why i want to get to know you. i want to know what you like and dislike. i want to know what your favorite songs are, want to know what you do when youâre free. i want to be there to learn it all.â
his words feel heavy, and you can feel your own feelings bubbling in your throat. what about you was so interesting for him? did he have a reason to find you pretty under him? what did you do for him to have such strong feelings so fast?
you speak slowly, âare you sure? i- i brushed you off the other day. another day i chose not to talk to you even though i saw you. am i really someone you want to talk to?â
mark smiles at your words, thereâs no faltering on his end, âitâs my fault for not telling you what i wanted. i didnât want to make you uncomfortable, either. if you didnât want to talk to me, i didnât want to force you to.â
your mouth opens and closes, not really knowing what else to say. you can tell heâs been thinking about this, been taking your feelings into consideration. if it were any other guy, they wouldnât care about you, only thinking with their dicks as they talk to you. it puts you at ease knowing that mark is being genuine about it all.
âthatâs why i wanted to talk to you tonight. i really had no intention of doing all this-â he makes a gesture between you two, â-with you, even if i really really wanted to. i was prepared for everything.â
you laugh at him, letting out the breath youâve been holding, âi also want to say sorry. i didnât mean to be so⊠mean. i wanted to talk to you, too. i just thought that you only wanted a one time thing, or that you just wanted sex.â
his hand reaches for yours, and you donât try to brush it off. you donât quite grab his hand just yet, but you let him hold on. he stares at you gently, âiâm sorry if i made you feel that way.â
you shake your head, âitâs not your fault, i was just thinking too much.â
the two of you sit in silence for a couple of moments. you can hear the loud music bouncing through the thin walls. you can hear people shouting over the music, loud laughs echoing down the halls. even through all the noise, it feels like itâs just the two of you in the room. this is your space with him, and you like how it feels.
after a few more beats of silence, he speaks up, âcan i⊠can i take you out sometime? like, i mean, like, take you out on a date? that isnât a party? just⊠wherever you want?â
you let out a small laugh at his nervous, jumbled words. his cheeks turn pink at the sound, head falling to your shoulder as he groans in embarrassment. you hope he canât hear your thumping heart as you answer him, âi would like that. i want to go on a date with you, mark.â
you can feel him smile against the skin of your shoulder. he whispers out a thank you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. you wrap your arms behind his back, pulling him close as you hum, âdo you think we should get out of here?â
he moves to look at you, âdefinitely.â
youâre unexpectedly nervous for today.
after the party, you and mark exchanged numbers before you both went separate ways for the night. you never expected to see him, never expected to not have sex with him, and never expected to even give him your phone number. now, as you stare at the shared messages from the previous days, you realize how much you kept yourself away from him.
it almost felt too easy for you to fall for him. you tried to hold back, but the care he holds for you gets to your heart. you donât mind, knowing that heâs felt like this just as long as you had, no restraint shown in how he takes your feelings seriously. a few weeks ago, you couldâve never felt nervous about what might happen today.
itâs nothing serious, mark even saying that it doesnât have to be a date if you donât want it to be. like he said before, he just wants to get to know you as a person. the thought makes you shake out a breath, trying to take it just as easy as him.
you mull over your clothing options, wondering what exactly you should wear for a casual hangout. he probably wonât care as much as you think he would, but you donât want to seem too prepared or too lax. youâre overthinking it again. itâs just mark. it should be easy with him, heâs interested in you, not the you you try to put on.
you grab whatever feels fitting for the day. you look back at your phone, seeing markâs text saying heâs ready when you are. youâre quick to type out that youâre about to start heading over. itâs just a coffee shop, you think. you try not to put too much meaning into it yet.
itâs not too far from you, a fifteen minute bus ride to the place. throughout the ride, you try to drown out your nervous thoughts with your favorite playlist. it seems the universe is against you when all it plays are the love songs in your playlist. too coincidental.
you get there before him. it looks like a nice, quiet spot. mark says heâs been going here for quite some time, one of his favorite spots to talk to his friends or study. you canât help but wonder if itâs true or if heâs lying to impress you. you figure today is the best day to find that out.
you wait for him to arrive. you refrain from texting him, deciding to just wait it out. you donât want to seem too worried just yet, he could just be running late. thoughts of him standing you up enter your mind. you have to laugh at the thought, realizing that mark doesnât seem to be someone to do that. you donât know him well yet, but youâre sure he isnât that evil.
as if to prove your point, you hear someone calling your name. turning to the direction of the voice, you're greeted with mark lee walking towards you. thereâs a bright smile on his face, an arm waving at you. you smile and wave back. as he gets closer, he looks over you, a shy smile on his face as he scans over your outfit. you get just embarrassed as him, looking away from his heavy stare.
âshould we go inside?â you ask.
heâs quick to agree, opening the door for you. when you enter, youâre hit with the strong smell of coffee. thereâs a few others inside, chatting away or typing on their laptops with their own drinks. you scan over the lengthy menu, opting to choose something lighter for today.
mark chooses the same thing as you, and you laugh at him. he says he doesnât like coffee and wonders why you chose what you chose. he might be thinking too much into it, but you think itâs cute. you try to order separately, but he practically begs to pay for your drink. you give in, you canât just say no to a free drink.
itâs a bit awkward when you both wait for your drinks. you can see him roll on his heels as he waits, can see how he tries to pick out what he wants to say. as you try to come up with every possible response, he speaks, âhow was your day?â
you let out a small chuckle at his question, âgood, actually. i spent most of my time thinking about right now, even i kinda surprised myself.â
he smiles at your admittance, âyeah? i did, too. i was nervous, that maybe you didnât want to see me.â
âi canât believe that iâm making you feel like that,â you let out an apologetic laugh, âtrust me, iâll be asking to hang out with you a lot now.â
before mark can say anything, your drinks are set out. you both thank the barista, and you start to move to one of the empty booths. before you can, mark catches onto your arm, âcan we actually, uh, sit outside? the sky looks really pretty right now, i think it would be cool to sit outside.â
you smile, quickly nodding at his words. once again, he holds open the door for you, sliding out and looking at the small tables set outside. he was right, the sky is really pretty today. he lets you choose a spot, and you choose towards the corner where no one can bother the two of you.
heâs quick to speak up again, âi really like this place. i found it a while ago while walking around with my friend one day.â
âwas it with haechan?â
mark cocks his head a little, âyou know him?â
âother than his name and him being your friend, not really. he introduced himself to me one time, though.â
he laughs at that, âgood to know. he doesnât really like coming to places like this, so i would just come here by myself. i even considered asking if they were hiring.â
âand? did you?â
âi didnât. i would be crushed if they rejected me and i wouldnât be able to show my face there ever again.â
you choke on your drink at his words, a laugh trying to escape as you let out coughs. mark is quick to pat your back, laughing while trying to calm down your coughing fit. as your throat clears, the coughs fade into laughs, mark joining you as he apologizes, âsorry for being too funny.â
you jokingly glare at him, âyou owe me, mark lee.â
silence washes over the two of you again. this time, itâs more comfortable. the drink is good, markâs company feels good, and youâre happy you came today. you watch as he takes out his phone, quickly snapping a shot of the bright blue sky. it seems practiced, something he always does. you canât help but ask, âwhat about the sky makes you like it so much?â
he shrugs, âi just think itâs pretty. itâs not going anywhere, and itâs nice to take a break from it all and look up at the sky.â
âiâve never really thought about it that way. i donât really take the time to just stare at it.â
he hums at your words, âitâs nice to look and think about all the pretty things in the world.â
you try to ignore how he stares at you while he says that, quickly breaking eye contact with him. thereâs a shy, but proud smile on his face. you chuckle, âyouâre too cool for me, mark.â
âone day youâll be as cool as me. just know that iâll send you pictures of sunsets or the moon, or literally just, like, anything. anything that reminds me of you.â
he lists the things that he just told you he finds pretty, indirectly implying that all the pretty things remind him of you. your heart beats a little harder, quickly taking a sip of your drink to try to ignore it. you try to come up with anything else to get rid of the rush growing inside you, âyou know, i actually had seen you once before.â
his head quickly turns to you, âreally? when?â
âit was during freshman year, i saw you getting dragged down a hallway.â
mark racks through all his memories, pinpointing when exactly that couldâve happened. you watch the realization dawn on his face, quickly shoving his face into his hands in embarrassment. you shake his shoulder a bit, laughing when he makes a humiliated sound. you question him further, âwhere were you guys even going?â
after ruffling his own hair a bit, his head slowly lifts up to get a quick look at you. his face is red, hands fidgeting in shame. you wonder what could possibly be so bad. he speaks up when he starts to see you get worried a bit, âit wasnât even anything crazy, he was just trying to take me to an event with free food in it.â
you canât stop yourself from laughing, placing your hand on his arm to stable yourself. you decide not to think too hard when his other hand lays on top of yours, thumb smoothing over your skin. it feels like it should always be there, his warm palm calming down your nerves. it should always be this easy.
âif it was just that, then why are you so embarrassed?â you ask, laugh airy.
âi know, but i couldâve skipped free pizza and instead talked to you! itâs not fair youâve known me longer than iâve known you. maybe we couldâve⊠we wouldâveâŠâ he doesnât finish the end of his sentence, but you can assume what heâs trying to say.
âtwo poor freshmen students couldnât help themselves to free pizza. i canât blame you, honestly.â
he squeezes your hand and takes a breath before speaking, âyouâll go with me to get free pizza next time? youâre, like, officially invited to the next free pizza event.â
you chuckle, âwould very much prefer you to take me out to an actual pizza place, thank you very much.â
his eyes shoot towards yours, âdoes that mean you want to see me again?â
you put his words together, âmark lee, were you trying to get me to go on another date with you by asking me to go to a campus event with free pizza?â
âwell, it almost worked, didnât it?â
âyou can think of it as me choosing the next spot.â
his fingers move to try to intertwine his with yours. you bite your lip, letting him hold onto your hand. you donât want to hold back anymore, heâs made it easy for you to let go of it all.Â
âi canât wait. itâs my turn to confess.â
you wait for him to continue, watching him hold back a smile as he pays full attention to your hand holding his. you tell him to focus, and he lets out a sheepish laugh, âthat day haechan talked to you, he told me that you were going out that weekend. i really wanted to see you, so we both ended up going out that same weekend, too.â
âhow did you know where i would be?â
âwe didnât,â he chuckles, âi just hoped that i would find you, hoped that you would be there. i got lucky that night.â
âitâs like you knew exactly where to find me.â
âitâs almost as if our subconscious were trying to bring us together,â he letâs out a proud noise at his own words while you playfully roll your eyes at him.
âmark, i will threaten to cancel our next date,â you joke.
he hums, âi know where to look to find you, donât worry.â
mark finds himself in bed with you again.
this time, he knows exactly why. heâs in love with you, and you finally admitted that youâre in love with him. he didnât rush you, didnât pressure you into reciprocating his feelings. he could see you becoming more comfortable around him, leaning into his touch, smiling at his words. he wouldnât change anything (besides maybe that day he got dragged by haechan), in order to be here in bed with you.
even if all he had with you was that one night, heâd be happy knowing that he at least spent some time with you. but he got what he wanted, you let him into your life. he wouldâve waited years if it meant getting with you.
so as he makes his way in between your thighs once more, he looks to see your face staring down at him with love. though heâs having sex with you again like all those nights ago, it feels different this time. heâs not here just to fuck you, but heâs here because he loves you. whatâs even better is that now you love him back, and it feels right as you moan out his name.
heâs softer this time around, no rush in getting you both off as fast as possible. thereâs no loud music or screaming coming through the walls, and youâre laying on top of your own bed. heâs here in your room, enjoying the presence of you right next to him.
he licks a stripe up your dripping cunt, savoring the taste that heâs been craving. he looks up to gauge your reaction, a smiling forming on his face to see your face scrunched up with need. he moves to suck on your clit, humming around it, feeling your thighs tighten around his head. he doesnât bother moving them this time around, letting them try to shut around his head.
you can feel his tongue prod at your entrance, your hands move to tangle in his hair. he just canât get enough of how sweet you taste. he thinks he could spend hours here in between your thighs, licking up your slick. he thanks every god out there for letting him be here with you, letting him be so entranced by all of you.
he grabs you by the waist to pull you closer to him. you can feel his nose press against your clit, and you canât help but practically use his face to grind into him. he opens his eyes a bit, looking at the sight of you so fucked out just from his mouth. youâre all he can think about.
you can feel one of his fingers replace his tongue, moving to tease your clenching hole. you gasp out, tears welling in your eyes, âmark, please. need you so bad, you donât even know-â
âbaby-â you moan at the pet name, âi know how much you need me, i could never keep you waiting.â he slides a finger in, relishing in the way you clench around his digit. his mouth focuses on your clit, listening to the moans and whimpers you let out. itâs all because of him this time, all of the things he does for you because of how much he loves you.
he slips another finger in, scissoring them inside you, earning him a tug at his hair. his fingers move to curl inside you, enjoying the feeling of your warm walls wrapped around his fingers. you whimper when he finds your sweet spot, thighs practically trapping him between your thighs. he commits that spot to memory, now forever burned into his mind.
it doesnât take long for him to get you close to cumming. heâs putting all his attention on you, his desperation showing with how greedily heâs moving against you. you feel your body heat up, thighs beginning to shake around him. âm-mark, âm gonna cum, wanna cum so bad!â you wait, and you can feel him smile against you.
he pulls his mouth away from you, his fingers still moving inside of you as he thumb reaches to rub your clit. he moves to kiss you, licking into your mouth. you can taste yourself on his tongue, moaning into your mouth as you cum on his fingers. he rides you through it, fingers slowing down as you whine from the overstimulation.
he removes them from you, bringing them up to his mouth. you watch him slide them into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut with the taste of your cum. he lets out a small groan, and you have to lightly kick his leg to get him to focus. his eyes focus on you again, letting out an embarrassed laugh, trying to redirect it towards you.
âmy girl came so fast, did you miss me that much?â he teases.
you roll your eyes, âso what if i did! now, will you let me finally suck you off?â
his eyes bulge out of his head and you have to refrain from laughing at the sight. âi never got to, but you donât know how much i want to.â
you both trade spots, mark laying to lean against the headboard, his hooded eyes staring down at you. your hands trail up his clothed thighs, and he canât miss the way you look at his bulge in his sweats. you make eye contact with him as you slide down his sweats and boxers, watching how his hard cock slaps against his stomach.
he lets out a low groan at the sight of you so prettily sat between his legs. you kitten lick his tip before wrapping your hand around his length. you move your hand slowly up and down, smiling at the low groans he lets out at the feeling. you wonât ever admit it to him, but youâve thought about doing this to him too much, even before you started dating.
you can tell he thought about it too with the way his bleary eyes look at you. his head pushes into the headboard as your lips wrap around his tip, sucking lightly. his hand doesnât hesitate to move to your cheek, his thumb smoothing over your soft skin. your tongue swirls around his tip, and mark tries hard to stop himself from shoving his cock down your throat.
you move down his cock, trying to take as much of him as you can. you have to wrap a hand at his base, twisting your fist as you bob your head. his hips buck up a little, feeling you gag around him, moaning out an apology. you hum around him, a hand moving to hold down his hip. he lets out a whine at the feeling of vibrations, one of his hands moving to tug at his hair.
âd-doing so good for me- shit, my girl is doing such a good job for me.â
the praise makes your cheeks heat up, and you quicken your movements to hear more. you swallow around him, hearing the anguished groans he lets out. your tongue slides against the underside of his cock, âsuch a pretty mouth, making me feel so good. you d-donât know how much i thought about this.â
if only he knew that you feel the same way. as if to respond to him, your eyes look up at his. they almost flutter close, the sight of his cock in your mouth, your pretty eyes batting at him, and the almost glossy look to your eyes sets something off in him. heâs so close, a broken moan escaping him, âif you keep doing that, iâll cum- oh god, please donât stop.â
he tries to hold off to make this last longer, but every time you swallow around him, it gets hard for him to hold back. heâs losing his self control, something that you always manage to take away from him. he doesnât know how you do it, but he thinks itâs because of all the love he holds for you.
itâs your eyes smiling at him that makes him cum. you donât pull off of him, trying to fit more of his length into your mouth as he spills his cum down your throat. heâs letting out whines of your name, telling you how good youâve been, how heâs so lucky to have his pretty girl do this for him. you swallow up all his cum, feeling how his cock twitches in your mouth.
you donât pull away from him right away, causing mark to nervously laugh out at the feeling of overstimulation. you hum around him once more, hearing the small whimper he lets out as he tries to pull away. you slowly move away, mark letting out a huff of relief as you lazily smile at him.Â
âi think i wouldâve passed out if you tried making me cum again.â
you move up to snuggle at his side, nuzzling your face into this neck, ânow you know how i feel when i have to get you to stop eating me out.â
he whines out an itâs different! as he wraps his arms around you, tucking you into his chest. heâs warm, slightly sweaty, but you wouldnât want it any other way. itâs quiet, hearing his heart beat in his chest with you so close to him. you could fall asleep in his arms, but you hear him whisper something above you. you ask him to repeat it, not quite catching it the first time.
âplease don't leave me ever again.â
âthis is my own apartment-â he laughs at your words, âplus, i think i love you too much to let myself ever leave you.â
he lets out a sigh, calmed by your words, âgood. i canât ever let my girl go anywhere anymore.â
a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED OH MY GOD. i love writing for mark and towards the end i somehow fell more in love with him... i hope u guys enjoy the second part to how it all goes, please let me know if you did!!!! hehe
taglist: @mwahaechz @froggyforyoongi @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @haechology @hrts4doie @kittydollzz @emvrd @pnkified @se7vnn @p4p1l0nn @jeankirsteinsgf69 @n0hyuck @yoursyuno @doejaejung @ccnicole02 @yuskitty @hyuckills @luvjoongz @sunnyeyes7 @tddyhyck @tmtxtf @arsvita @do0jaem @starfields @yoongjk @qusil @hcluvie @chaeceah @kriizztin
#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#nct fic#mark lee smut#mark lee fic#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader
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ËË°âą*ââ· PUTTING THEM ON A SEX BAN â NCT DREAM ê±
â cw. mentions of sex
request: I really love your work! đ Can I request where skz or nct dream they get a text from their girlfriend putting them on a sex ban? hehehe tysm!!!
authors note. i hope you like it đ!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
©ïžLUVYENI
#kpop x reader#kpop smut#nct reactions#nct fake texts#nct headcanons#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct dream fake texts#nct dream reactions#nct dream headcanons#mark lee smut#mark lee scenarios#lee jeno scenarios#lee jeno smut#huang renjun smut#huang renjun scenarios#lee haechan smut#haechan scenarios#na jaemin smut#na jaemin scenarios#chenle smut#chenle scenarios#park jisung scenarios#park jisung smut
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âlove me back?â â part 1
pairing â mark lee x reader
word count â 22.2k words
genre â angst, smut, fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden love
synopsis â mark lee goes from being the quiet kid at the river court to the star basketball player on campus, reigniting old tensions with his brother, jeno. as jenoâs girlfriend, youâre pulled into the rivalry, but itâs mark who captivates you. his touch, his presenceâhe stirs something deep inside you that you canât shake. as the tension between the brothers grows, so does your forbidden connection with mark, forcing you to confront where your heartâand bodyâtruly belong.
chapter contents/warnings â college au, small town vibes, 2000s teen show vibes, this fic is heavily based on one tree hill, reader is in a relationship with jeno but itâs far from healthy or loving, depictions of lust and physical connection rather than emotional intimacy, slow burn with emotional (and sexual) tension between reader and mark, basketball is a heavy theme, mark being a key player, reader uses drugs and drinks to avoid facing her emotions, struggles with communication and vulnerability, messy dynamics with themes of abandonment and insecurity, escapism, toxic sibling rivalry between jeno and mark, oooh guys jeno is a jerk! bad boyfriend jeno, explicit sexual content involving rough and emotionally detached interactions with jeno, reader makes out with mark, soft mark, emo boy mark, confident mark, understated and hot mark, references to drug and alcohol use as coping mechanisms, swearing, explicit language and competitive sports tension.
[fic ml]
ONE â TWO â THREE â FOUR â FIVE
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
The air in the room is thick and hazy, the low-hanging smoke curling in lazy spirals above your heads, seeping into the fabric of your clothes and the sheets. The bedside table is cluttered with half-empty bottlesâbeers, vodka mixersâand a vape pen with a fading light. The faint scent of weed lingers, clinging to the mess of discarded clothes on the floor. It should feel comforting, familiar, but it doesnât. Everything feels muted, dulled, like youâre watching your life from a distance, the numbness settling deeper with each passing second.
Jeno lies beside you, shirtless, his body warm against yours. Your head rests on his chest, where his heartbeat thuds unevenly, just as it always hasânever steady enough to soothe you, never grounding like you wanted it to be. Tonight, it feels even more erratic, like something inside him is pulling further away. Your fingers trace lazy circles over his skin, the motion slow, almost mechanical. Itâs a routine nowâthis closeness that never truly feels close.
Heâs quiet, too quiet, and it irritates you more than it should. You inhale sharply, the vape pen slipping between your lips before you exhale through your nose. Shifting closer, you press a kiss against his neck, letting your lips linger longer than usual, hoping heâll respond. But thereâs nothingânot a sigh, not a flicker of acknowledgment. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest, his mind somewhere far beyond the room. You pull away, frustrated, the weight of the past hour pressing down on you.
âJeno,â you murmur, your voice catching slightly, as if the words are stuck in your throat. Your lips linger near his jaw, hoping for a reaction, for something to pull him back to you. But all you feel is the faint twitch of his hand on your waist, a gesture that once held desire but now feels empty, mechanical. Itâs not what youâre looking for, not tonight.
You move again, this time more insistent, straddling his waist, your hands pressing against his chest, trying to ground yourselfâor maybe trying to ground him. You tilt his chin toward you, forcing his eyes to meet yours, but theyâre glassy, distant, reflecting the dull light of the lamp more than any real emotion. âAre you even here?â you ask, half-joking, but the frustration behind your words cuts through the haze in the air.
âYeah,â he mutters, but thereâs no conviction in his voice. His eyes flicker to the ceiling again, avoiding yours, like heâs searching for an answer there that he canât find in you.
You let out a sharp breath, your fingers tightening on his chest as you lean down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss thatâs supposed to feel familiar, intimate. But even then, his response is slow, almost hesitant, like heâs going through the motions, doing whatâs expected but feeling none of it.
Your heart sinks a little, and you pull back just enough to study his face, the way his jaw tenses and his gaze remains distant. The dim light casts long shadows across his features, making him look older, more worn down than he should. Something is eating at him, gnawing at the edges of whatever you have left between you.
âWhatâs wrong with you?â The words come out more accusatory than you intend, but the irritation bubbling inside you wonât let it rest. You both know what this isâitâs been like this for months now. Physical, surface-level. No connection. No real emotion. But tonight, it feels worse. Heavier.
He finally shifts beneath you, his fingers brushing against your hip, but thereâs no spark in the touch, no warmth. âItâs nothing,â he says, his voice thin, barely more than a whisper.
âYou always say that,â you mutter, the words bitter as they leave your mouth. You push yourself off of him, sitting at the edge of the bed, your hands in your lap as you glance over at the cluttered mess around you. Bottles, smoke, scattered clothes. Itâs all a blur. âIs this really what we are now? Me trying, and you always somewhere else?â
You run a hand through your hair, glancing over your shoulder at him. Jeno doesnât answer right away. He just rubs his face with his hand, his other arm falling limp beside him, like even the effort of responding is too much. âItâs just the game tomorrow,â he mumbles, but his words lack conviction.
âThe game?â You repeat, incredulous. You turn to face him fully now, your frustration spilling over. âYouâre thinking about basketball right now? Weâre here, and all you care about is some stupid game?â
Jeno sits up, finally breaking the contact between you. His hands are tight, clenched in the sheets as he avoids your gaze. âItâs not just the game,â he snaps, his voice sharper now, the edge of something deeper cutting through. âItâs Mark.â
The name lands heavier than you expect. Mark Lee. Jenoâs half-brother. The one he rarely mentions, the one who has always been at the edges of your awareness but youâve never had a reason to think about him. Youâve seen him around but only from a distance. He was never at the parties, never a part of the crowd Jeno ran with, always separate. always⊠distant. Markâs never really mattered to you. Until now.
âWhat about him?â You ask, your voice slower, more careful.
Jeno lets out a short, bitter laugh. âHeâs back,â he says, the frustration creeping into his voice.
âBack how?â You mumble, feeling the tension building. Mark had been around since you and Jeno were children but he had always been a part of the background, you never expected that to change.Â
Jeno shifts beside you, you watch his jaw clench, his fists tightening on the sheets. âBack into my life. Out of nowhere. Heâs on the team nowâjust showed up like he had something to prove, and Coach didnât waste a second. Benched me, gave him my spot.â The words are clipped, tight with barely concealed anger.
You sit there, trying to process it. Youâve seen him before, alone at the river court after hours, earbuds in, completely disconnected from the world you and Jeno are a part of. Calm, composed, like nothing touches him. It strikes you how different he is â how heâs always stood apart from Jenoâs chaos.Â
He pauses, jaw clenched, and you can feel the anger bubbling underneath, the years of resentment suddenly in the open. âMy dadâs losing it. He never wanted Mark around. Hated him from the beginningâheâs always seen him as the mistake, the one thing he canât stand to face. But now Markâs back, and itâs like this unspoken challenge. Like Markâs here to prove heâs better, or he can take everything thatâs mine.â
You shift uncomfortably, unsure how to respond to the intensity of his words. âJeno⊠Iâm sure itâs not that deep. Itâs literally just basketball.â
His gaze snaps to you, deadpan. Anger flickers in his expression, a tightness in his jaw that hadnât been there moments before. Youâve said the wrong thing. You can feel it. He looks at you like you donât get itâlike you donât understand him at all.
Thereâs something wild in his eyes now, something untamed. âItâs never just been basketball,â he says, voice sharp, frustration lacing every word. âHeâs always wanted everything I have. Heâs always been there, lurking. And now heâs coming for everythingâmy spot, my life.â He pauses, his voice dropping lower, quieter, almost as if heâs afraid to say it out loud. âAnd you.â
The words hang heavy in the air, sinking into the silence that stretches between you. You stare at him, stunned, trying to process what heâs just said. And you. A chill runs through you. For a moment, you donât know how to respond, how to make sense of what heâs implying.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Jeno pulls up to the river court erratically, tires skidding on the gravel as he parks. The way he movesâquick, aggressiveâmirrors the tension thatâs been building between him and Mark for days. Youâd rather be anywhere but here, surrounded by the weight of this impending showdown, but for Jeno, this is his element. He thrives in moments like these, where all eyes are on him, where the crowd fuels his need for attention and validation. Every glance, every whispered conversation from the sidelinesâJeno drinks it all in, the girls batting their eyes at him only adding to his confidence.
You feel the stares too. You and Jeno arenât just well-knownâyouâre desired. The kind of couple everyone talks about, whispers about behind your backs. People want to be you or be with you. Youâve seen the way their eyes follow you both, lingering a little too long, filled with envy and something darker. Itâs intoxicating, usually. But tonight, the attention feels heavier, more suffocating, like itâs pressing down on you, trapping you in this moment where everything feels like itâs about to break.
The river court itself is buzzing, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. The sky is a muted purple as dusk settles in, casting a hazy glow over the court. The river runs just beyond, the sound of water rushing in the background, a soft but constant reminder of the tension flowing through this moment. The court is cracked, worn from years of use, but it has a certain rawness to itâgritty, real. The streetlights flicker to life as people gather along the edges, their shadows long and looming over the pavement. Thereâs a strange energy in the air, a mix of excitement and unease, as more people file in. Jenoâs supporters are far bigger, louder, their voices filling the space. They want a show, and Jeno is ready to give it to them.
âWelcome to the river court showdown!â Lee Donghyuckâs voice cuts through the murmurs, playful and dramatic as he addresses the growing crowd. You donât know him wellâheâs Markâs best friend, always lingering in the background. His narration carries a light-hearted tone, but the way his eyes flick between Mark and Jeno makes it clear: this is personal. âLadies and gentlemen, the stakes are high, and you can feel the intensity in the air. Weâve got a battle of the brothers tonight. Mark Lee, our underdog, taking on the one and only Jeno Lee.â
Your gaze shifts to Jeno as he steps onto the court, confidence radiating from him as he bounces the basketball in his hands, his eyes scanning the crowd like a predator surveying his territory. Across from him, Mark stands still, calm. He doesnât thrive on the attention like Jeno doesâhe doesnât even seem to notice the crowd. His focus is entirely on the game, his eyes sharp, determined.
Donghyuckâs voice carries on, âIn one corner, we have Jenoâstar player, campus legend. And in the other, Markâcool, calm, and collected, with everything to lose.â Thereâs a hint of admiration in his tone when he talks about Mark, and you catch yourself paying closer attention to him too. Youâve never really noticed Mark before, but now, as he steps forward, thereâs something about the way he carries himself that draws you in. The quiet confidence, the determination in his eyes⊠itâs hard not to watch him.
The game starts fast. Jeno wastes no time, dribbling aggressively, his body coiled with energy, every movement sharp, intentional. Mark, on the other hand, is methodical, almost serene in the way he moves, his eyes never leaving the ball. Jeno talks trash as they play, his voice loud enough for the crowd to hear. âYou donât belong here, Mark. This isnât your world.â
Mark doesnât respond, his focus unwavering. You can see itâthe way his eyes track the ball, his calm under pressure. Heâs not here to prove anything to Jeno; heâs here for himself. Every shot Mark takes is calculated, precise. He moves with a fluidity that surprises you, and you catch yourself watching more intently than you expected, noticing the subtle shift in his posture, the way his eyes sharpen when he finds an opening. Thereâs something intimate in the way he plays, an art to his determination that makes it impossible not to be drawn in.
âAnd Mark with the shotâboom! Nothing but net!â Donghyuckâs voice is filled with excitement, and the crowd reacts with gasps. You can hear the surprise rippling through them. Jeno wasnât expecting this, and neither were they. âHeâs got game, ladies and gentlemen. Jeno might have his work cut out for him.â
Jenoâs frustration grows with each point Mark scores. You can see it in the way his movements become more frantic, more desperate to overpower Mark. But Mark doesnât falter. He doesnât need to respond to Jenoâs taunts, and doesn't need to engage in the mind games. His eyes are always on the prize, his determination unshakable.
As the game continues, itâs clear that Jeno underestimated his brother. Mark isnât just holding his ownâheâs thriving. Each basket he makes feels like a step out of the shadow Jeno has cast over him for so long. For Jeno, this is about dominance, about keeping Mark out of his world. But for Mark, itâs about more than that. Itâs about carving out his own place, about proving he can hold his own.
Jeno dribbles back, eyes narrowing as he pulls up from way beyond the three-point line, his body coiling with the kind of confidence that comes from years of dominance on the court. His movements are fluid, almost graceful as he rises to take the shot, the ball leaving his fingertips in a perfect arc. For a second, it looks like itâs going inâlike heâs about to remind everyone why heâs the best. But just as the ball reaches its peak, Mark appears out of nowhere, launching himself into the air, his arm extending at just the right angle to block it.Â
Donghyuck's voice bursts out in excitement, âJeno shoots⊠and misses!â he pauses, eyes wide with amazement, âholy crap, did you see that? Someday men will write stories about that block, children will be named after that block and Argentinian women will weep for it!â
The sound of the ball slapping against his hand echoes through the court, followed by the stunned gasps from the crowd. Jeno stumbles back, shock and disbelief flickering across his face as the ball ricochets away, the confidence heâd had only moments ago shattered.
âMark with the rebound. Heâs fast. Heâs focused.â Donghyuckâs playful tone turns serious as the game nears its end. The tension in the crowd is palpable, and you canât help but feel it too. But more than that, youâre watching Mark nowâreally watching him. The way he doesnât let anything distract him, the quiet intensity in his eyes as he takes his final shot. Thereâs something about him in this moment that feels⊠different. Itâs not an attraction, not yet, but a subtle curiosity. The way he moves, the determination etched into every stepâit draws you in, and you canât help but wonder what else lies beneath that calm exterior.
âAnd thatâs it! Mark Lee wins!â Donghyuck shouts as the crowd erupts, the shock clear on everyoneâs faces. Markâs friends swarm the court, cheering loudly, their celebration unrestrained. You watch them from the sidelines, a small, subtle smile pulling at your lips. You donât know why, but seeing Mark win⊠it makes you happy. Thereâs something about it that feels right, like youâve been waiting for this moment without even realising it. You havenât smiled like this in so long.
Jeno walks toward you, his face twisted in frustration and defeat. âItâs not a big deal,â you say quietly, trying to diffuse the tension.Â
Jeno laughs, though itâs not a sound filled with humour. âHeâs not gonna quit the team now. I lost the bet.â
You raise an eyebrow. âYou bet on it?â
Jenoâs face hardens, and the way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat, but not in a good way. His silence is unsettling, and you can feel the shift in the air between you. âWhat did he bet if he won?â you ask, your voice quieter now, a sinking feeling creeping into your chest.
Jeno looks at you, his jaw tight. âYou. He bet that he gets you.â
The words hit you like a slap, the weight of them sinking in slowly. Youâre stunned, unsure how to feel. Part of you is angry at Jeno, furious that he would treat you like an object in some stupid rivalry. But another part of youâthe part that watched Mark play tonight, the part that saw something different in himâcanât shake the way you felt watching him on that court.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
The drive back to Jenoâs house is suffocating, the silence hanging heavy in the air like a storm about to break. Youâve tried speaking, tried breaking through the wall heâs built around himself, but he just stares straight out of the window, his jaw clenched tight as if heâs grinding through every word he doesnât want to say. His silence grates on you, each passing second tightening the coil of frustration in your chest.
Finally, you snap, your voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade. âWhy the fuck would you agree to let me get involved in any type of bet? Arenât you my boyfriend? Arenât you supposed to protect me?â
Jeno doesnât answer, doesnât even turn to look at you. His expression remains stony, detached, like youâre not even there. Itâs as if every emotion between you is locked behind that clenched jaw. The frustration inside you bubbles over, boiling under your skin as he pulls up to his apartment, the car jerking to a stop. Before you can say anything more, he throws the door open, slams it shut, and storms toward the house, leaving you sitting there, stunned.
You follow him, heart pounding, already knowing what youâre about to walk into. But it still hits harder than you expect when you push through the front door: another one of his fucking parties.
The bass from the music vibrates through the floor, the walls practically shaking from the force of it. The air inside is thickâsweat, alcohol, smokeâall mingling into a nauseating fog that clings to everything. Half the campus seems to be packed into the house, bodies pressed together, laughing, shouting, grinding. Itâs chaos. Itâs chaotic, a celebration party that was meant to mark Jenoâs victory but he lost. He didnât expect to lose so now heâs throwing himself into this mess, trying to forget how Mark beat him.
Jeno doesnât even glance your way as he strides straight into the centre of the party. The second he steps inside, the energy shifts. All eyes are on him. Girls bat their eyelashes, offering coy smiles and glances, waiting for him to notice. The guys are quick to slap him on the back, giving him their usual praise, eager to bask in the glow of his attention. He soaks it up, drinks it in like itâs the only thing keeping him afloat.
Without a second thought, heâs gone, swallowed by the crowd. You stand there, invisible, feeling like an afterthought. You watch as Jeno gravitates toward a group of girls, the kind youâve seen around beforeâthe ones who always seem to be in his orbit, looking for a chance to get close. They laugh at something he says, their hands grazing his arm, their gazes hungry. And Jeno, your supposed boyfriend, leans into it.
You watch as one of the girls, dressed in a tight, glittering dress, dances close to him, her body pressed against his as they move to the beat. Jenoâs hands rest on her waist for just a secondânothing more than a passing touch, but itâs enough to sting. Enough to make your stomach twist. She leans in to whisper something in his ear, and he smirks. Itâs a look youâve seen beforeânot necessarily malicious, just confident, like heâs always known how to handle this kind of attention. His eyes are a bit hazy, a mix of alcohol and the mood of the night, and he doesnât even glance in your direction.
The other girls join in, dancing around him, their bodies brushing against his as the music pulses through the room. Jeno doesnât move away, doesnât stop them, but heâs not exactly encouraging it either. He lets it happen, lets them touch him, lets the night sweep him up. You know itâs not about forgetting you, not about pushing boundariesâJenoâs always had this natural pull, the kind that draws people in without him even trying. But tonight, it feels different, harder to shake off, like heâs just letting the moment take him, unaware of how much itâs affecting you.
Your chest tightens, and you stand there, rooted in place. Itâs not like this is the first timeâJenoâs always been the guy who draws attention effortlessly, always the one people gravitate toward. But tonight, thereâs something sharper about it, something that feels a little too close. You know he loves you, but watching him in the middle of it all, surrounded by all these girls, it feels like youâre invisible for a moment. Like maybe, just maybe, heâs forgotten how much he means to you. But deep down, you know itâs just him getting caught up in the night, not in them.
You make your way upstairs, needing space, needing to breathe. The noise below feels like a weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating you. Jenoâs room is as much of a mess as the party downstairs, but itâs quieter at least. You go straight to his drawers, pulling out bottles of whatever alcohol you can find, downing shots without caring about the burn in your throat. Then itâs the drugsâwhatever pills and powders heâs stashed away. You donât think, you just take them. Anything to numb the anger, the frustration, the feeling of being trapped and ignored.
You grab your laptop from the desk and plug your phone into the speaker, blasting your own music. The party music below is lame, anyway. With the alcohol and drugs starting to take effect, you focus on your screen, your fingers flying across the keys as you work on your art assignment. You pull up the digital image youâve been editing for days, your eyes scanning the lines and colours as you tweak the lighting, adjust the shadowsâanything to keep your mind off Jeno, off the party, off everything.
An hour passes before Jeno stumbles into the room, high out of his mind. Heâs still reeking of sweat and alcohol, his shirt half-untucked, his eyes bloodshot. He glances at your screen, scoffing.
âWhat are you wasting your time on now?â
You bite your tongue, not wanting to start another fight, but the irritation flares up anyway. You keep your eyes on the screen, editing a tiny detail on the photo, hoping heâll leave. But he doesnât. Instead, he walks over and turns off the speaker, his smirk testing you.
âYou know nobody listens to this crap,â he says, challenging you with his gaze.
âWhy the fuck did you allow me to be bet on?â you snap, unable to hold back any longer. The question is sharp, bitter.
Jeno rolls his eyes and shrugs, as if itâs not worth discussing, as if it doesnât matter. His casual dismissal makes your blood boil.
âDonât fucking roll your eyes at me,â you seethe, standing up from the bed. âDonât give me attitude. Youâre the one throwing your lame parties and celebrating what? That your brother beat your lame ass today?â
Jeno shakes his head, irritated. âThatâs why I came here now,â he mutters, his words slurring slightly. âTo ask you if you wanna come party with us.â
ââUsâ?â you ask, folding your arms. âSo that means the guys and the girls youâre fucking around with? The ones you let grind all over you like you donât have a girlfriend standing right there?â
Jenoâs expression tightens, his jaw clenching as the accusation hits him. His eyes flash with frustration, but for a moment, you catch a flicker of guilt before he quickly masks it. His lips press into a thin line, his nostrils flaring slightly, as if heâs holding back from snapping. He sighs, exasperated. âAnd me.â
âAnd the guys,â you repeat, rolling your eyes.
âYou know what, Y/N,â he says, his tone shifting to frustration. âIâm getting really tired of this. I came here to spend time with you.â He points at you accusingly, his words biting.
âYeah, me and half the campus,â you shoot back, referring to the party downstairs.
He throws his hands up in defeat. âWhatever. You wanna be a bitch, thatâs cool. Just sit here and listen to your loser rock and Iâll see you tomorrow.â
Your heart pounds in your chest as you glare at him, your voice sharp as a knife. âHow about you donât see me tomorrow?â
Jenoâs face falters for a moment, and he looks at you, something softer trying to break through the haze of alcohol and frustration. âLook⊠Iâm sorry,â he mutters, his voice low. Itâs an apology, but it feels half-hearted, like heâs saying it because he knows he should, not because he means it.
You shake your head, ignoring him as you push past. The anger burns too hot, and his apology barely registers. You brush yourself past him, the touch brief but cold, leaving him standing there in the doorway, stunned and alone.
You breathe heavily, trying to calm the anger still simmering in your chest. Each inhale feels shaky, your body betraying just how rattled you are. Jenoâs words, his actions downstairs, the careless way he allowed those girls to hang on to him like you didnât matterâit all echoes in your mind. You need to escape, to get away from the suffocating weight of it all. With nothing else to do, you make your way downstairs, the pounding bass and shrill laughter filling the space like a cloud of smoke you canât shake.
Youâre halfway to the kitchen when a few of your friends spot you. Their faces light up, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. They pull you into a conversation, their voices high-pitched and bubbly as they compliment your dress, touching your arm and admiring the way the tight black fabric clings to your curves.
âOh my god, that dress is insane on you!â one of them gushes, her eyes wide with admiration. âJeno is so luckyâŠâÂ
You smile, the kind of smile youâve perfectedâwide and warm, just enough to convince them youâre engaged. âThanks,â you reply, your voice light, pretending to match their energy. Itâs easy to slip into this act, to fake the excitement, the warmth. Youâve done it before. But inside, everything feels hollow, like thereâs a wall between you and the rest of the world.
As they chatter on about the party, about boys, you catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror. The dress is tight, black, hugging every inch of your body. The neckline plunges just enough to catch attention, the fabric pulling at all the right places. Your makeup is flawlessâlips painted a deep, sultry red, eyeshadow smoked out in a way that makes your eyes pop. To everyone else, you look like the life of the party, someone who belongs here. But looking at your own reflection, you feel detached, like youâre watching yourself from outside your body.
Youâre about to respond to one of your friends when something catches your eyeâsomeone. Your breath catches in your throat as you notice Mark Lee standing across the room. You freeze. Your friendsâ voices fade into the background, the party around you slipping away as your focus zeroes in on him. What the hell is he doing here?
Mark doesnât belong at parties like this. Itâs obvious in the way he stands, surrounded by people yet somehow separate, distant. Heâs smiling, his lips curved upward, but thereâs a casual awkwardness in the way he holds himself. His shoulders are tense, and he fidgets with his hands as if heâs not entirely comfortable with the attention.
You watch as a few girls, practically draped over him, giggle and bat their eyelashes, clearly trying to catch his eye. Markâs friends are laughing, slapping him on the back like theyâre celebrating something. You can tell his status is rising after his win today, and you canât help but roll your eyes at how quickly people are flocking to him. Itâs almost comical. Yet, unlike Jeno, Mark doesnât seem to bask in it. Heâs not soaking up the attention or feeding off it. Instead, he shifts awkwardly under their gazes, like the weight of it all makes him uneasy.
Thereâs something⊠different about him.
You find yourself studying the way his body language contrasts with the energy around him. Where Jeno would be centre stage, loving every second of the spotlight, Mark seems almost out of place, as if heâs trying to navigate a world that doesnât quite fit him. Itâs⊠endearing. His discomfort, the way heâs clearly not used to being the centre of attentionâit draws you in, makes you curious in a way you hadnât expected.
A small, quiet laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it. You canât help but find it amusing, how different he is from everyone else in the room. And just as quickly as you let yourself slip into that moment, his eyes meet yours.
For a split second, your heart stutters, and your breath catches. His gaze holds yours, steady and intense. You canât look away, even though every part of you wants to. Itâs as if the rest of the room melts away, the noise, the people, the partyâit all blurs into the background. Thereâs only him.
Markâs eyes are dark, deeper than youâd expect, and the tension between you feels thick, almost suffocating. His expression is unreadable, but thereâs something behind his stareâsomething that sends a jolt through you. Itâs unsettling how deep it cuts, like heâs seeing straight through you, into a place you didnât want anyone to go.
Your stomach twists, the feeling both terrifying and magnetic. You should look away, but you donât. You hold his gaze for longer than you should, and the tension between you builds with every second that passes. His stare is steady, unblinking, as if heâs waiting for something, as if heâs testing you. And the longer it goes on, the more you feel like something has shiftedâsomething subtle, something dangerous.
Finally, you tear your eyes away, your heart racing in your chest. You turn, your movements quick and sharp, almost desperate to break the connection. But the weight of his gaze lingers on you, even after you walk away, the tension hanging in the air long after the moment has passed. Something has shifted, and you can feel it deep in your bones.
You donât know what it is, but youâre certain of one thing: youâre not ready to face it yet.
You storm off, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and betrayal, the thoughts of Jenoâs reckless behaviour and the bet swirling in your mind. Every step feels heavier, like the weight of everything thatâs happened is pressing down on your chest. The muffled noise of the party below fades into the background as you climb the stairs, heading straight for Jenoâs room. The air feels thick, the kind of tension that wraps around you and makes it hard to breathe.
He bet on you.
The thought keeps ringing in your mind, making your stomach churn. Itâs a hollow realisation, but one you canât shakeâlike every guy in your life somehow views you as a prize, something to win or lose. Your chest tightens with anger, but itâs not just aimed at Jeno. Itâs aimed at Mark too. He was part of it. Part of the game, the manipulation.Â
You reach Jenoâs room and shove the door open, needing the space, needing to breathe. The familiar smell of his cologne mixed with weed hits you. The room is a mess, clothes and empty bottles scattered everywhere, a chaotic reflection of everything wrong between you and him. You step inside, your hands trembling slightly as you try to make sense of everything swirling in your mind.
But before you can take a breath, you hear footsteps behind you.
Your heart skips, the sudden sound catching you off guard. You whip around, expecting Jeno, but instead, itâs Mark standing in the doorway. His expression unreadable, his hands tucked into his pockets like he doesnât quite know what to do with himself.
âHey,â Mark says, his voice soft but carrying through the tension in the room.
You stand in shock, your eyes narrowing in on him. The last person you want to see right now is Mark Lee, of all people. âWhat do you want? Why are you following me?â Your voice comes out harsher than you intend, but you donât care. The anger flares up, twisting in your chest. âWhy are you even in Jenoâs room? Do you want me to call him?â
Markâs expression shifts, his lips curling into a half-smirk that makes your blood boil. âYeah, you wonât do that.â he says, voice calm but biting. âBit of a weird relationship you guys have, huh? Youâre his girlfriend, but he spends the night flirting and touching other girls?â
His words hit harder than you expect, cutting deep. You swallow, trying to hold back the frustration bubbling inside you, but it spills over anyway. âYouâre not allowed to talk about my relationship,â you snap, stepping closer, the distance between you narrowing. âHow dare you⊠how dare you tell Jeno that you wanted me if you won the game earlier?â
Mark chuckles, the sound low and dry. âJust when I think Jeno couldnât be more of a jerk,â he mutters, shaking his head. âI changed my mind, alright? I agreed that if I won, Iâd quit the team. Did he bother telling you that, or did he just let you believe the worst?âÂ
You freeze, stunned. The weight of his words hangs heavy between you. âWhy would you⊠why would you want to quit the team?â
Markâs expression softens for a moment, the tension easing slightly from his posture. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. âBecause Iâm tired of this,â he says, his voice quieter now, more genuine. âI donât want to be in Jenoâs world anymore, competing with him over every little thing. Basketball used to be fun for me, but not when itâs all about one-upping him. Itâs exhausting.â
You stare at him, processing the weight of what heâs just said. Heâs not just tired of the rivalryâheâs tired of everything that comes with it, the constant competition, the games, the need to prove something. Itâs so different from the way Jeno sees things.
You truthfully had no idea how intertwined Mark and Jenoâs lives had become recently. It feels strange, realising youâve been standing on the outside of something so tangled. Youâre meant to be Jenoâs girlfriend, yet youâve never seen this side of his lifeânot until today when he mentioned Mark while getting ready for their showdown at the river court. That was the first time he had ever really talked about his half-brother with you, and even then, it was brief, distant, like he was giving you only the surface.
And now here you are, standing with Mark, getting a glimpse into the mess that youâve somehow been pulled into without fully understanding it. Itâs like youâve been involved in their rivalry without even realising it, and yet you can see the toll itâs taken on Mark. The weariness in his voice, the way he talks about Jenoâitâs clear heâs already fed up. Heâs exhausted, but from your perspective, youâve only been witnessing it from the outside, catching pieces of a story you were never let into.
Youâre confused, not truly understanding the dynamics between Mark and Jeno or the tension in their family. Youâve met Jenoâs dad before, and it didnât take long to realise heâs an asshole. Controlling, dismissive, and always pushing Jeno toward somethingâwhether itâs basketball or his own toxic expectations. Now, hearing Markâs side of things, it makes sense why he wouldnât want to be associated with their dad or get sucked into Jenoâs world. Youâre not surprised Mark is tired of it all.
You notice the sadness lingering in his eyes, the exhaustion etched into his features, and it makes something twist in your chest. Itâs clear heâs been carrying the weight of this rivalry far longer than you realised. You donât fully understand the complexities between them, and a part of you wonders if you ever will.
You change the subject, not wanting to push him further into a conversation that clearly brings up so much for him.
âSo⊠you did bet on me at first,â you murmur, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. âWhy?â
Mark steps closer, and suddenly the air in the room feels different, heavier with a tension that has nothing to do with anger. His eyes lock on yours, and for a moment, you feel like heâs seeing right through you. âBecause Iâve always noticed you,â he says, his voice lower, more intimate. âThe way you laugh when you think no oneâs watching. The way you bite your lip when youâre lost in your own thoughts. The way you donât let anyone in, but you have so much more to give than what people see.â
The words send a jolt through you, leaving you speechless, flushed. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The room feels smaller, the tension between you thick and suffocating.
Just as quickly as heâs drawn you in, Mark shifts the conversation, breaking the intensity of the moment. His gaze drifts to the bedside table, where a stack of vinyl records sits. He curled an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. âNo way Jeno listens to music this good,â he comments, his fingers brushing over the edge of a record. âOasis?â
You blink, the sudden change in tone catching you off guard. âHe doesnât,â you mumble, glancing at the records. âTheyâre mine.â
Markâs smile widens, genuine and warm. âDidnât think Jeno had that kind of taste. But you⊠this makes sense. Youâve got good taste.â
You shake your head slightly, still processing the shift in the conversation. Jeno always made fun of your music, always complained about how outdated and boring it was. But Mark⊠Mark seems to appreciate it.
He looks around the room again and spots your laptop, the digital art project youâve been working on still open on the screen. He steps closer, leaning over to get a better look. âThis⊠this is good,â he says, sounding almost impressed. âReally good.â
You brush off the compliment, shrugging. âItâs nothing, just something I mess around with.â
âNo,â Mark says firmly, turning to face you, his eyes serious. âYouâre talented. You need to take this seriously. Be proud of yourself for once.â
You blink, the unexpected praise catching you off guard. Jeno never really cared about your art. Whenever youâd show him a new project, heâd glance at it, offer a half-hearted âcool,â and move on to whatever was on his mind. But hearing it from Markâsomeone whoâs not even in your lifeâfeels different. It feels real.
You turn away slightly, suddenly feeling exposed. âItâs not a big deal,â you mumble, trying to dismiss it, but Mark doesnât let it go.
âIt is a big deal,â he insists, his voice soft but firm. âLook, I know Iâm a complete nobody to you, and I donât know everything about you, but I can tell that this⊠this is something you care about. Youâre good, really good, and you shouldnât brush that off.â
You swallow hard, his words sinking deeper than you expected. Thereâs something about the way heâs looking at you, like he sees more than what youâre used to showing people. Like heâs seeing the side of you that even Jeno never bothered to notice.
The tension between you shifts again, but this time itâs softer, quieter. You feel yourself calming down, the anger that had burned so hot before now fading into something elseâsomething you canât quite put your finger on. It feels like Mark is seeing you, really seeing you, and that makes your chest tighten in a way thatâs hard to ignore.
âWhy are you being so nice to me?â you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. The question slips out before you can stop it, and you feel vulnerable, like youâre revealing more than you want to.
Markâs gaze softens, and he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. âMaybe because someone should be,â he says quietly. âSomeone should tell you how good you are. How much you matter. How much you deserve more than what youâre settling for.â
The words hit you hard, and you find yourself struggling to breathe. Markâs standing so close now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off him, and for a moment, you forget everything else. You forget about the party downstairs, the chaos with Jeno, the bet. All you can focus on is the way Mark is looking at you, the sincerity in his eyes.
You want to say something, anything, but the words are stuck in your throat. Thereâs a strange electricity in the air between you, like youâre standing on the edge of something dangerous and exciting all at once. Your mind is telling you to stop, to pull back, but your body doesnât move.
And then, before you can fully process whatâs happening, Mark reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against your arm. The touch is soft, tentative, but it sends a jolt through you.
âMarkâŠâ you murmur, unsure of what youâre even trying to say.
But heâs already pulling his hand back, stepping away just enough to give you space, the intensity of the moment easing. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a small laugh, but itâs not out of amusementâitâs out of the tension thatâs still lingering between you both.
âIâm sorry,â he says, his voice low. âI didnât mean to make things weird. I just⊠I donât know, I felt like you needed to hear that.â
You stand there, your heart racing, and for a second, you donât know how to respond. Everything feels charged, like youâre balancing on a knifeâs edge. You know you shouldnât feel anything like this. Heâs Jenoâs brother, after all, and this is already messy enough. But the way Mark looks at you, the way he speaks to youâit feels different. Different from Jeno. Different from anyone.
âI should go,â you finally say, the words shaky and unconvincing.
But before you can make a move, Mark stops you again, his voice soft but commanding. âWait.â
You turn back, meeting his eyes again, and the tension that had briefly eased floods back, stronger than ever. He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but his eyesâhis eyes are full of something you canât quite place.
âWhy are you with him?â Mark asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
The question catches you off guard. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Because deep down, youâre not sure you know the answer anymore. The connection you once had with Jeno feels distant, hollow, like itâs slipping through your fingers the more you try to hold on.
Mark takes a step closer, and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. His presence is overwhelming, and for the first time tonight, you feel truly seen. Not as Jenoâs girlfriend, not as someone whoâs part of the chaosâbut as yourself.
âBecause,â you start, your voice shaky. âItâs easier than admitting that maybe weâre not right for each other. Itâs easier than dealing with everything thatâs falling apart.â
Markâs eyes soften, and for a moment, he looks like he understands you in a way no one else has. He doesnât push you for more, doesnât make you feel guilty for your honesty. He just listens, and that feels like something youâve been missing for a long time.
Thereâs a long silence between you, but itâs not uncomfortable. Itâs heavy, charged with all the things youâre both not saying, but also filled with a strange sense of calm.
And then, Markâs voice breaks through the quiet.
âYou deserve better than âeasy,ââ he says softly, and his words sink deep into your chest, stirring something youâve been trying to ignore for too long.
The room feels smaller, the air between you buzzing with something electric. For the first time, you wonder if maybe Markâs right. Maybe you do deserve better. Maybe âeasyâ isnât enough anymore.
And just like that, everything between you shifts again.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
The next morning is a blur of regret and a pounding headache, the hangover hitting you harder than usual. You drag yourself out of bed, thoughts of last night swirling in your mind. Mark. You canât stop thinking about him, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. Itâs unsettling how much it affected you, how easily he got under your skin. Youâd never noticed him before, never cared to, but now⊠now itâs different.
He looked right into you, saw things no one else had ever bothered to. That scared you. How could he do that in just one conversation? Itâs unsettling how easily he got under your skin. Youâd always been in control of how people saw youâpolished, popular, the girl everyone wanted to be. But Mark⊠he saw past all of that. And you hated that. You couldnât allow it.
As you walk through campus, your usual routine kicks in. The stares, the whispersâthey follow you like they always do. Youâre well-known, well-liked, and thatâs how itâs supposed to be. You slip back into that role easily, the confident girl everyone looks up to, the one they envy or want to be. But today, it feels different, like somethingâs off. Like you are off. The mask you wear is starting to slip.Â
You push open the heavy doors to the stadium, the noise of squeaking sneakers and the thud of basketballs filling the air. The gym is mostly empty except for the cheer squad and the basketball team, both deep into practice for the big away game this weekend. The space is vast, the polished wood floor stretching out in front of you, the high ceilings making the place feel both overwhelming and hollow.
Karina, your best friend, is standing in the middle of the court, already in full drill-sergeant mode. Sheâs wearing the same cheer outfit as youâtiny, sultry, and sexy. The short skirt clings to her hips, barely covering her thighs, and the tight top shows off just enough skin to turn heads. Her long black hair is tied back into a sleek ponytail, and her dark eyes flash with intensity as she barks orders at the other girls. Karinaâs passionate, sometimes too much so, running practices like boot camp. Youâve known her forever, and while she thrives on drama, partying, and popularity, sheâs a good person underneath all that chaos. Sheâs just someone who loves living on the edge and always ends up in trouble.
âYouâre late,â Karina snaps when she sees you, her voice sharp. She rolls her eyes dramatically and gestures for you to start warming up. âIf youâre not gonna take this seriously, donât even bother showing up.â
You give her a half-hearted shrug, too hungover and distracted to care. âI overslept,â you mutter, pulling your hair into a ponytail and adjusting the skirt of your cheer uniform. The fabric clings to your skin, the skirt short enough to leave little to the imagination. You stretch, trying to ignore the lingering headache and the thoughts of Mark that refuse to leave your mind.
Karina goes back to yelling at the other girls, demanding perfection in the routine, and you start practising alongside them. The others around you are gossiping, their voices filled with excitement as they gush over the basketball playersâhow hot they look in their uniforms, who hooked up with who, and which guy is the best in bed. You block them out, going through the motions of the routine as if on autopilot.
But then, you feel it again. That familiar, heavy gaze. You lift your head, and your heart skips when you see him.
Mark.
Heâs across the court, dribbling a basketball with effortless ease, but his eyes are on you. Heâs wearing the teamâs uniform tank top, his last name, âLee,â boldly printed on the back. The sleeveless jersey hugs his broad shoulders, showing off his muscular arms, the definition of his biceps catching your eye. It fits him wellâtoo well. The fabric clings to his torso, outlining the muscles beneath, and you curse yourself for noticing.
What a fucking liar. Didnât he say he was quitting the team? So why was he here now, practising like nothing had changed?
Mark dribbles closer, and as he moves past you, you canât stop yourself from striking up the question thatâs been bugging you. âI thought you quit,â you say, your voice sharp with accusation.
He pauses, turning to you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. âI did,â he replies smoothly. âBut I realised something this morningâthis court is where I belong. No oneâs gonna stop me from being here. Not Jeno. Not anyone.â
His words are like a challenge, and it makes something in your chest tighten. He stands there, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to say something more. You narrow your gaze, trying to keep the frustration from bubbling over. His presence was throwing you off balance, making you question things you didnât want to face.
Mark doesnât seem fazed by your silence. In fact, he starts talking again, asking about cheer practice, making small talk like nothingâs wrong. But you canât let yourself engage. You give him blunt, clipped responses, barely meeting his gaze. You canât afford to let him break through your walls again. Not in front of Karina and the other girls.
He huffs, his voice carrying a teasing edge. âWhy the hell are you a cheerleader anyway? Youâre the least cheery person I know.â
Before you can answer, you notice the other cheerleaders staring, their eyes flicking between you and Mark. Some of themâthe same girls who were flirting with him at the partyâare watching closely, whispering to each other, their expressions curious. You feel exposed under their gaze, like they can see right through you, like they know somethingâs happened between you and Mark even though that was far from the reality.Â
You force yourself to act indifferent, cold. You put up the walls youâre so good at building, the ones that keep people from seeing the real you. But Markâs not fooled. He sees through it, and it only makes him more determined. His gaze lingers, and you can feel the weight of it even as you turn away, trying to focus on the routine.
The tension between you is subtle, a quiet current that hums beneath the surface. You donât know him well enough for it to be anything more, but thereâs something about the way Mark watches youâcalm, measured, like heâs trying to figure you out. Itâs unsettling how easily he manages to chip away at the front youâve put up, the one you use to keep everyone at a distance. He doesnât push, doesnât challenge you outright, but his presence is enough to make you feel exposed in a way youâre not used to.
What bothers you the most is how Mark seems to notice things others donât, like heâs already picking up on pieces of you that you barely acknowledge yourself. He doesnât say much, but the way he looks at youâsteady, unflinchingâfeels like heâs seeing past the version of you that everyone else accepts without question. Itâs not that heâs right, exactly, but the fact that he might be makes you uneasy.
Mark catches you stealing small glances at him as the practice goes on. You falter in your movements just enough for him to notice, and each time you feel his eyes on you, your skin prickles with awareness. Itâs infuriating, reallyâthe way heâs always watching, like heâs waiting for you to crack. And whatâs worse, you canât stop yourself from glancing back.
You refocus, forcing your attention on Karina, whoâs still barking orders at the squad, her long black hair swaying with every step. Sheâs relentless, her intensity dialled up to eleven. âCome on, Y/N,â she snaps, clapping her hands. âYouâre half-assing it today. Get your head in the game!â
Karinaâs passion for cheer is unmatched. She runs these practices like military drills, pushing everyone to their limits. Itâs part of why sheâs cheer captain, part of why the girls respect her, but itâs also why they gossip about how extra she is behind her back. But you know that her heart is in the right place. She loves this life. The drama, the popularity, the excitement of being at the centre of it all.
The cheer team lines up for the final drill, a complicated pyramid. As you climb into position, you catch Mark watching again, this time closer than before. Heâs dribbling lazily nearby, as if heâs waiting for an excuse to talk to you. Your stomach twists, frustration and something else swirling in your gut. You turn away, focusing on the balance, ignoring him.
But as practice winds down, and youâre stretching by the edge of the court, you feel his shadow fall over you. Heâs closer now, leaning against the wall, the basketball spinning lazily in his hand. You canât ignore him any longer.
âI thought you were serious about quitting,â you mutter, not looking at him, your fingers digging into your muscles as you stretch.
Mark doesnât answer right away, his silence speaking volumes. When he finally does, his voice is low, laced with that teasing tone he always seems to have around you. âI was. But sometimes plans change.â His eyes are locked on yours, and you hate how steady his gaze is, how it makes you feel like heâs peeling away your defences one layer at a time.
You scoff, rolling your shoulders back as you stand. âYou and Jeno are going to kill each other. Whatâs the point?â
Markâs eyes flicker, his jaw tightening for a brief second before his usual calm mask returns. âMaybe. Or maybe this is the only way to settle things between us.â
Youâre taken aback by the intensity in his voice, but you donât show it. Instead, you shrug, grabbing your water bottle and taking a long drink. âWhatever. Just donât drag me into it.â
Mark steps closer, and you freeze, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. âYouâre already in it,â he says, his voice dropping to a near whisper. âWhether you want to be or not.â
You blink, trying to process what Mark means. Of course, youâre involvedâyouâre Jenoâs girlfriend, after all. But thereâs something in the way Mark says it, something that feels deeper than just the rivalry between him and his brother. Heâs looking at you like he knows something you donât, like he sees the storm brewing before you even realise itâs there.
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, the doors to the court open with a loud bang, the sound echoing across the gym.
All eyes instinctively glance toward the entrance as Jeno strides in, exuding the kind of confidence that makes it seem like he owns the place. Thereâs an effortless swagger in his step, the kind that turns heads, drawing attention without even trying.
Heâs late, but he doesnât look like someone whoâs been through a rough night. His hair, though slightly tousled, is styled in that perfect, careless way that still manages to look deliberate. His basketball jersey clings to his broad shoulders, the material showcasing the lean muscles of his arms as it moves with every step he takes. His name âLee,â is plastered boldly across his back. His skin glows with a faint sheen, his body radiating a kind of heat that makes youâdespite everythingâtake notice.
Coach Suhâs voice booms across the court, cutting through the tension. âLee Jeno! Youâre late! Get your ass over hereâthis isnât a damn joke.â
Jeno just shakes his head, a smirk pulling at his lips as he runs a hand through his messy hair. The sound of his laugh echoes through the gym, but itâs empty, lacking its usual charm. Instead of walking toward the rest of the team, he strides toward you and Mark, his gaze flicking between the two of you.
His expression is tight, frustration radiating off him, but itâs not just about being late. The way his eyes fix on Mark makes your stomach clenchâthis wouldnât end well.
âSo,â Jeno drawls, his voice low and laced with bitterness, ânot only do you want my life, my spot on the team, but you also want my girl?â
The words hang heavy in the air, his accusation sharp. Mark doesnât move, his eyes narrowing as he watches Jeno, his calm exterior refusing to crack.
Your heart pounds in your chest, panic rising as you feel the tension between them ramping up like a ticking time bomb about to explode. You can see it in Jenoâs postureâthe way his fists clench, the way heâs getting ready to square up and the way his jaw tightensâheâs not going to let this go easily.
You step in quickly, hoping to defuse the situation before it spirals out of control. âJeno, letâs just go, yeah?â you say softly, stepping closer to him. You put your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, hoping your touch will calm him down. âWeâll skip practice and hang out like we used to before. Please, letâs just leave.â
For a moment, Jeno doesnât move, his gaze still locked on Mark, but then he turns to you, his features softening just slightly. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, âBaby, Iâm sorry about yesterday. I shouldnât have done that.â
You swallow, the tension in the air heavy, but you nod, wanting to end this. âItâs okay,â you whisper back. âLetâs just move on, okay?â
Jeno pulls back, his smirk returning as he glances at Mark one last time before turning fully to you. He speaks loud enough for Mark to hear, completely ignoring his brotherâs presence. âIâll pick you up later, yeah? We havenât fucked in so long. Iâll make sure you have a better time than last night.â
You freeze, his words making your skin prickle. Itâs meant to sound playful, teasing, but thereâs an edge to itâsomething bitter and insecure. You can sense it in the way heâs trying too hard, covering his unease with cocky charm.
But youâre horny, above everything else, you really want cock. His cock.
âOkay,â you smile, leaning up to kiss Jeno softly, the warmth of his lips against yours a temporary distraction. Still, you canât shake the feeling of Markâs eyes burning into you from across the court, watching the whole interaction unfold.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
The gym was alive with the roaring of the crowd, the heavy pounding of feet against the polished hardwood echoing through the space. It was the big away game, the one everyone had been talking about for weeks. You stood with the rest of the cheer team, pom-poms in hand, cheering and supporting the boys. The energy was electric, the entire stadium buzzing with anticipation. You could feel the excitement coursing through the air, a mix of tension and adrenaline that had everyone on edge.
The crowd was packed, faces blurred together, and their cheers were deafening. The thud of basketballs against the court, the squeak of sneakers, You glanced around, spotting Karina, who was already screaming her head off, hyping up the team and the crowd, her long black hair bouncing with every movement. She was intense, as always. The bright cheer uniforms only added to the energy, and despite the tension in the air, you couldnât deny how it all came together. You loved being part of the noise, even if you felt disconnected at times.
Your eyes were naturally drawn to the court, where the basketball players were in full motion. Mark was everywhereâsprinting down the court, dribbling the ball, his focus intense. He was confident, fully immersed in the game, his movements fluid and controlled. It was hard not to notice how good he was, how easily he fit into the rhythm of the team despite everything that had happened. He belonged there, and it was becoming more obvious with every passing second. The crowd roared when he made another shot, and you could see the respect from his teammates growing, even from the coach, whoâd been unsure about Markâs return at first.
Youâve crossed paths with Mark more than ever lately. Now that heâs back on the team, itâs like you canât escape him. Every practice, every game, heâs there. At first, you tried not to think much of it. You were with Jeno, after all. But thereâs something about Mark that draws your attention, whether you want to admit it or not. Something in the way he moves on the court, the quiet confidence he carries with him, a calmness that contrasts with Jenoâs intensity.
The tension between them is palpable. Jeno had always been the star of the team, the one everyone looked to. But ever since Mark returned, thatâs been changing. Mark was gaining attentionânot just from the coach but from the teammates too. He was good. Really good. And every time Mark made a clean shot, a perfect pass, it only seemed to stoke the frustration in Jenoâs eyes.
Jeno was playing tonight, just not in his usual position. And it was clear that something was off. Every time he had the ball, he hesitated, glancing toward Mark before passing to someone else. He was purposefully ignoring his brother, and you could see the frustration building. Mark was calling for the ball, his voice cutting through the chaos. âCome on, man! Pass the ball!â Mark shouted, motioning for the pass.
Jeno ignores him, pushing forward and taking the shot himself. Itâs a miss, and the other team grabs the rebound. Markâs hands clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes locked on Jeno, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
The tension keeps building, and you feel it, feel it in the way Jeno glares at Mark during the timeout, feel it in the way Mark brushes past him, his shoulders stiff with barely contained anger. Itâs only a matter of time before something snaps.
And then it does.
In the final quarter, with the clock winding down, Jeno gets the ball again. He dribbles down the court, and Mark is wide open, calling for it. The crowd yells for Jeno to pass, but he doesnât. Instead, he goes for a three-pointer, and the ball bounces off the rim. Markâs face tightens in frustration, and as soon as the play stops, he storms over to Jeno.
âWhat the hell is wrong with you?â Mark demands, shoving Jenoâs shoulder. âYou had to prove something by missing a shot you knew you couldnât make?â
Jenoâs eyes flash with anger as he pushes Mark back, his jaw clenched tight. âYou think Iâm gonna let you take my place? You donât get it, Mark. This was my team before you showed up, and itâll be my team long after you leave.â
Mark doesnât back down. He steps closer, his voice calm but cold. âYou donât own this team, Jeno. Stop acting like Iâm here to take everything from you.â
Jeno scoffs, his voice rising, the frustration boiling over. âThatâs exactly what youâre doing! You want everything I haveâmy spot on the court, my life, my girlââ He stops short, his eyes darting to you for a split second before he looks back at Mark. âYou want whatâs mine, and youâre not getting it.â
Markâs jaw clenches, and before anyone can react, Jeno takes a swing. The punch catches Mark in the chest, but Mark doesnât fall back. Instead, he lunges forward, shoving Jeno hard enough to send him stumbling back. The crowd gasps as the tension explodes, and the game halts as the two brothers start throwing punches.
Itâs chaos. Theyâre grappling, shoving each other, fists flying as they tumble to the ground. Teammates rush in to pull them apart, but the damage is done. The anger, the resentmentâitâs all out in the open now.
âIs that what this is about?â Mark growls, his voice low as heâs dragged back by a teammate. âYouâre scared Iâll take everything you think is yours?â
Jeno spits, his eyes burning with rage as he shrugs off the hands holding him back. âYou think youâre so much better than me, donât you? Just because you walked back into my life and everyone suddenly loves you. But youâre nothing, Mark. Youâve always been nothing.â
The words sting, and you can see it in Markâs eyes. Thereâs hurt beneath the anger, hurt that Jenoâs words have dug up, but he doesnât let it show. Instead, he straightens, his chest heaving with effort as he holds Jenoâs gaze. âI never wanted to take anything from you, Jeno,â Mark says quietly, but the weight behind his words hits hard. âI just wanted a chance to be something without having to live in your shadow.â
Jeno doesnât respond. He just glares, his fists still clenched, and itâs clear that, despite everything, heâs not ready to let go of his anger.
You watch from the sidelines, your heart racing. The fight, the words theyâre throwing at each otherâitâs like youâre watching years of tension unfold right in front of you. And though you know you should be on Jenoâs side, your heart twists when you see the way Mark looks, the way heâs trying to hold himself together while everything falls apart around him.
Jeno looks at you, expecting you to come to his side, to back him up like you always have. But you canât. Not this time. Not when you can see the pain in Markâs eyes, the vulnerability heâs trying so hard to hide. You hesitate, your mind racing with everything thatâs happened, torn between the loyalty you owe to Jeno and the empathy you feel for Mark.
Before you can think too much, you find yourself stepping forward, your voice soft but clear. âJeno⊠maybe itâs time to let this go.â
Jenoâs eyes snap to you, his expression shifting from anger to disbelief. âWhat? Youâre taking his side now?â
âIâm not taking sides,â you say quietly, but the look in Jenoâs eyes tells you he doesnât believe that. âI just think this has gone too far. Both of you need to stop before it gets worse.â
Mark stands there, silent but watching you, his gaze steady, like heâs waiting to see what youâll do next. And for a moment, you catch the flicker of something in his eyesâgratitude, maybe, or understanding. Itâs brief, but itâs there.
Jeno lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. âOf course. Of course, youâd side with him.â
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of Jenoâs words, but before you can respond, the coach steps in, finally ending the fight and calling off the game.
As the crowd disperses and the players start to leave the court, you find yourself standing in the middle of it all, your heart heavy with everything thatâs happened. Jeno storms off without another word, and Mark lingers for a moment, his eyes meeting yours once more before he turns and walks away. Jenoâs jaw was clenched, fists still balled as he stormed off the court. He didnât look at you, not even once. Not after the fight started and not when he walked away, the tension radiating off him in waves.
You waited outside the locker room, hoping things would cool off, but Jeno was waiting for you. The moment your eyes met his, you knew this wasnât going to be just another argument. There was something different in his gazeâsomething deeper, angrier.
âYou let him get to you,â you said, your voice tinged with frustration as you stood before him, trying to keep your own emotions in check.
Jenoâs expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. âYou think this is just about him getting on my nerves?â His voice was sharp, filled with a bitterness that made your stomach twist. âItâs never been that simple. He keeps trying to edge me out. First, he steps onto the court, taking my place there, and nowâŠâ
He paused, the weight of his words heavy in the air. When his eyes finally met yours, there was something raw in his gaze, something that made your chest tighten.
âAnd now it feels like heâs trying to take you too,â Jeno muttered, the accusation hanging between you like a loaded gun.
The shock hit you like a wave, leaving you speechless for a moment. âWhat? What are you even saying?â you stammered, though the crack in your voice betrayed the strength you were trying to summon. Your heart raced, and your hands trembled slightly at your sides.
Jenoâs frustration boiled over as he stepped closer, the intensity in his eyes almost too much to bear. âIâm not blind, Y/N. I see it. The way things have changed between us⊠The way you look at him when you think no oneâs watching. Youâve been different, distant. You think I havenât noticed?â His voice was laced with something that felt like betrayal, something that cut deep even before you could fully process what he was accusing you of.
âYouâre wrong,â you whispered, but even as the words left your mouth, they felt hollow.
âAm I?â He scoffed, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you.Â
The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, the tears already threatening to spill over. âIâve been trying, Jeno. Iââ
âTrying?â he cut you off, his voice harsh and biting. âThis is you trying? Because from where Iâm standing, it feels like youâre slipping away from me. Youâre slipping away, Y/N, and itâs because of him. Admit it.â
The tears finally broke free, sliding down your cheeks before you could stop them. It was too muchâthe accusations, the anger, the way he looked at you like he didnât recognize you anymore. âI canât do this,â you murmured, shaking your head, your voice barely holding together. âIâm trying, but youââ
Without waiting for his response, you turned and bolted, your feet moving before your mind could catch up. The sounds of the gymâshouts, sneakers squeaking on the polished floor, the dull thud of the basketballâfaded behind you as you disappeared into the dimly lit hallways. The air was colder here, the emptiness wrapping around you like a shroud. But it couldnât stop the sobs from rising in your throat, harsh and relentless, each one cutting deeper than the last.
You couldnât remember the last time you cried. Not like this. Not the kind of tears that felt like they were tearing you apart from the inside out, like theyâd been building for years, waiting for this very moment to break free.
Your chest heaved, your breaths ragged and uneven as you stumbled into a dark corner, sliding down against the cool wall. The hallway was silent, save for the sound of your sobs echoing back at you. You felt so raw, so exposed, like every layer of protection youâd built over the years had been stripped away in an instant. Vulnerability wasnât something you allowed yourself to feel oftenâmaybe everâbut here you were, unable to stop it.
Tears blurred your vision, and you pressed your hands to your face, trying to muffle the sound of your cries. But it was no use. The emotions had taken hold, refusing to let go. The anger, the hurt, the fear of everything unravelingâit was too much.
For so long, you had kept it all together, every crack patched up with a smile or a dismissive shrug. But this time⊠this time you couldnât. You couldnât stop the flood. And it terrified you because you didnât know what came next. What was left when all the masks came off, when the facade youâd worked so hard to maintain finally crumbled?
You donât know how long youâd been sitting there, curled up on the cold bench in one of the quieter hallways, your face buried in your hands as sobs wracked your body. Time felt like it had lost meaning, and you were too exhausted to care.
But when you heard soft footsteps approaching, you didnât move. You didnât have the energy. A familiar presence settled next to you. You felt it before you saw him, the warmth of his body close to yours, the quiet concern that radiated from him.
âY/N,â Markâs voice was soft, almost tentative. He crouched in front of you, his face level with yours, his eyes filled with concern. âAre you okay?â
The question felt absurd, considering the mess you were in, but something about the way he asked itâso gently, so genuinelyâcaught you off guard. He wasnât demanding answers, wasnât prying. He just wanted to be there.
âIâm fine,â you mumbled, trying to brush him off, but your voice cracked, betraying you. Your hands trembled as you wiped at your eyes, trying to pull yourself together, but it was no use. You couldnât hold it in anymore.
Mark didnât push. Instead, he quietly sat beside you, the weight of his presence comforting in its simplicity. He didnât say anything, didnât try to fill the silence with empty words. He just stayed there, his quiet strength offering more support than youâd realized you needed.
And then, before you knew it, you were crying again. Harder this time. The tears came in waves, overwhelming and unstoppable, and you felt yourself crumbling under the weight of everything youâd been holding in.
Without a word, Mark wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest in a gesture so simple, yet so needed. He held you close, one hand gently rubbing your back as the other rested on your shoulder. It wasnât forceful or overwhelmingâit was soft, steady, like he was offering you a safe space to break down.
âItâs okay,â he murmured, his voice soothing, steady. âYou donât have to hold it in.â
His words were like a lifeline, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to let go. To stop pretending, stop fighting. You buried your face in his shoulder, your sobs muffled against his chest as the tears flowed freely.
Mark held you through it all, his presence grounding you, making you feel like maybe, just maybe, you werenât alone in this. He didnât say muchâjust whispered reassurances when the sobs became too much, his hand continuing its slow, comforting motion on your back.
When your sobs finally began to subside, you pulled back slightly, your eyes puffy and red, your breath still shaky. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you didnât feel the need to hide.
He wasnât judging you. He wasnât expecting you to be strong or put together. He just⊠saw you. The real you. The vulnerable, broken, messy you.
âThank you,â you whispered, your voice barely audible, thick with emotion.
Markâs gaze softened, his hand still resting gently on your back. âYou donât have to thank me,â he said quietly. âYou donât have to go through anything alone. You deserve betterâ
His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you didnât know how to respond. There was something in his voice, something in the way he looked at you, that made you believe him. Made you feel like, for the first time in a long time, someone saw you for who you really wereâand didnât turn away.
You nodded, your throat tight, and Mark gave you a small, understanding smile, his hand lingering for just a moment longer before he pulled back, giving you space to breathe.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
The next few weeks passed in a blur of practices, games, and strained silence. You and Jeno had settled into a routine of avoidanceâevery fight left more scars, and neither of you seemed to know how to bridge the growing gap. Every interaction felt heavy, filled with unspoken words and bubbling frustration that neither of you could release. Even the once-effortless sexual connection between you had started to lose its spark, leaving behind a dull ache in its place.
But the only constant, ironically, was Mark.
But you tried to hide it because Jeno was beginning to suspect something. You denied all accusations. Maybe you were just acting petty, trying to make a point and prove Jeno that he was wrong even though you knew he was right. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because you were scaredâscared to open up to Mark, scared to admit that the feelings stirring inside you werenât as simple as you wanted them to be.
You told yourself it didnât mean anythingâthat your stolen glances, the way you lingered a bit longer than you should during practices, was just harmless. But deep down, you knew better. Something was growing between you two, an unspoken pull that had you circling each other in quiet tension.
Today, it all came to a head during practice.
You moved through the stretches with fluid precision, your body bending and arching with every calculated motion. The gym lights flickered overhead, casting a golden hue on your skin as you twisted and turned, giving the cheerleaders around you a preview of the sultry moves you had perfected. Each stretch felt like a deliberate invitation, especially when you bent low, ass pushing out, skirt rising just high enough to leave little to the imagination. The hem of your cheerleading skirt barely brushed the tops of your thighs, teasing the smooth expanse of your skin as you moved.
Your body felt alive, the beat of the music in the background fueling the slow, rhythmic sway of your hips. You could feel the stretch in your thighs, the way the muscles tensed and released as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, the fabric of your skirt rising dangerously high with each movement. Your arms lifted above your head, drawing attention to the curve of your waist, the way the tight cheer top clung to your chest, accentuating every dip and curve.
You knew eyes were on you. You felt it.
But one set of eyes burned hotter than the rest.
Markâs gaze was a constant, heavy presence, dragging over every inch of your body as you moved. He wasnât trying to hide it. No, he wasnât even subtle. Every time you bent low or did a quick flip of your hair, his eyes were right there, drinking in the sight of your ass, the bare stretch of your thighs. His gaze was intense, following the rise and fall of your body as though he was committing every detail to memory.
Your skirt rose a little higher as you shifted into a new move, a slut drop, your thighs tightening as you lowered your body, giving him an even better view. You felt the air against your skin, the way the heat of the gym mingled with the cool brush of fabric as it rode up higher with each deliberate movement. It made you feel powerful. Sexy. You were showing off, and you knew it.
Markâs reaction was immediate. His jaw tightened as he watched, his fingers gripping the basketball tighter than necessary, veins bulging along his forearm. The way his eyes roamed over you, dark with want, made a shiver run down your spine. He didnât blink, didnât even bother pretending to focus on the practice drills.
Instead, he was laser-focused on you.
You caught his gaze as you straightened up, standing tall with a cocky smirk tugging at your lips. His eyes stayed glued to you, a hungry look darkening his features. You felt a thrill rush through you, knowing you had his full attention, knowing he was checking you out in front of everyone. Your body burned under the weight of his stare, heat pooling low in your belly. It was addictive, the way he looked at you like he wanted to devour you right there in the middle of the gym.
You could feel Jenoâs eyes on you too, burning with barely concealed jealousy as he watched the unspoken tension pass between you and Mark. But you didnât stop. You didnât care. The power you felt from knowing Mark couldnât keep his eyes off you only fueled you more. The harder Jeno stared, the deeper you sank into your movements, stretching further, leaning into the seductive rhythm of the routine.
And then it happenedâMark, distracted, let the basketball slip from his grip. The sound of it bouncing toward you pulled you from your trance just in time to see it come flying in your direction. You barely had time to react, the ball missing you by mere inches, the whoosh of air sending your hair flying.
The entire gym fell silent.
All eyes were on you now, the attention turning from curious whispers to outright gawking. The cheerleaders stopped mid-practice, their gazes shifting from you to Mark, wondering what the hell was going on. The basketball team paused, a few muttered chuckles floating through the air as the ball rolled to a stop at your feet.
Mark was still staring, his eyes now filled with something darker, more heated than before. The moment felt charged, the tension between you two palpable, hanging thick in the air. You could feel the weight of everyoneâs gaze, their confusion, their curiosity. But none of that mattered. All you could think about was the way Mark was looking at youâlike he was undressing you with his eyes, like he couldnât get enough.
You huffed, breaking the silence with a sarcastic snort. âNice arms,â you quipped, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to shake off the tension.
Mark didnât smile, didnât laugh. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear it, his gaze burning into yours with a quiet intensity. âNice ass,â he murmured, his voice dripping with something dangerous, something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the air between you two thickening with a different kind of tension. You could feel the flush rising in your cheeks, the way your body responded to the boldness of his statement, to the low rasp of his voice. Your throat tightened, and for a split second, you forgot where you were, forgot that the entire gym was watching, that Jenoâs eyes were on you, burning with fury.
You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, you stood there, locked in Markâs gaze, the heat between you almost suffocating. It was subtle, so subtle that no one else in the gym could pick up on the charged moment passing between you two. But you felt it. You knew it. And from the way Markâs eyes stayed on yours, dark and hungry, you knew he felt it too.
The whispers around you grew louder, and you could feel the cheerleaders and basketball players glancing at each other, sensing the tension but not quite understanding it. But the look on Jenoâs face said it all. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed with a mix of anger and suspicion as he watched the two of you, his body tense with barely concealed rage.
You could feel the weight of Jenoâs stare as he marched toward you, his presence heavy and commanding. âLetâs go,â he snapped, grabbing your arm, his grip firm as he pulled you toward him, his frustration barely hidden beneath the surface. He didnât even glance at Mark, but you could feel the seething anger radiating off him in waves.
Markâs eyes didnât waver. He watched as Jeno led you away, his gaze steady, like he was daring you to say something, to do something. But you didnât. You couldnât. The air between you and Mark was thick with tension, the kind that lingered even as you walked away, Jenoâs grip tightening on your arm as if to remind you of where you were supposed to be.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Itâs late, and your apartment smells faintly of the popcorn Karina had insisted on making. Your legs are lazily draped across her lap as she scrolls through her phone. A few of the other girls are scattered around the roomâWinter, Ryujin, and Ningningâchatting animatedly, their voices buzzing like static. Youâre not particularly invested in the conversation, but youâre here anyway. You couldnât avoid it. Itâs part of the routine.
The girls gossip about the usualâboys, parties, and whoâs been hooking up with whom. But tonight, thereâs a different energy in the room. They all have questions about what had happened earlier, and you can feel their curious stares burning into you.
âWhat was that about?â Winter is the first to ask, raising an eyebrow in your direction.
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. You know exactly what sheâs referring to, but you donât really know how to answer. To you, it was nothing. Of course, Mark would make a comment like that. You looked hot today, and heâd noticed. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
Winter presses on, unwilling to let it go. âYou canât tell me it was nothing, especially after seeing how Jeno dragged you out? I wonder what happened after that.â
You glance at her and sigh, deciding to give her the raw, unfiltered truth. âNothing,â you start, watching their eyes light up in anticipation. âAt first, Jeno was mad, pissed even. But then I sucked his cock, and he fucked me against one of the lockers in the guysâ changing rooms.â You pause for effect, wiggling your eyebrows as you finish, âHeâs definitely forgiven me.â
The girls burst into giggles, some of them clapping like youâve just given them a piece of juicy gossip theyâd been dying to hear. They choose to ignore the toxicity of it all, the fact that you and Jeno had been using sex as a band-aid for your issues for weeks now. You and Jeno barely talked anymore. Every argument, every moment of tension, was resolved with a quick fuck rather than any real conversation. But you donât say that part. You leave that truth buried beneath the surface.
âSo⊠Y/N, would it annoy you if I made a move on Mark?â Karinaâs voice cuts through the laughter, sharp and filled with a hint of vindication as she looks at you from the corner of her eye.
You canât help the way your face tightens, annoyance flashing across your expression before you can force it back down. You plaster on a smile, lying through gritted teeth. âNo, why would it?â
Karina leans back, raising a perfectly arched brow as if she doesnât believe you for a second. âJust seems like thereâs something going on between you and Mark. Heâs been staring at you non-stop lately.â
âJust seems like you and Mark have nothing in common,â you bite back, the words spilling out before you can stop them. âI donât know why youâre suddenly interested in him now. Is it because heâs gotten more popular?â
Karina doesnât flinch at your retort. Instead, she gives you a slow, deliberate smile. âMaybe,â she says, her voice cool, like sheâs playing a game she knows sheâll win. âOr maybe itâs because I think heâs cute. And honestly? Iâd love to take his virginity.â
Your chest tightens, a wave of something uncomfortable rippling through you. You werenât expecting that. âTake his virginity?â you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady, but you canât hide the slight edge in your tone.
Karina doesnât miss it. She leans in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. âYeah. Iâve been thinking about it a lot lately. You know, how fun itâd be to corrupt him. Break him in a little. Heâs so⊠quiet. I bet heâs just waiting for someone to show him how itâs done.â Her voice dips lower, more seductive. âImagine his hands on you, not knowing what to do at first, but learning⊠fast.â
The other girls are eating it up, hanging onto every word Karina says. They laugh and nod along, and Winter even adds a low whistle.
âGirlsâŠâ Winter chimes in, her tone playful. âI donât think heâs a virgin. Itâs always the quiet ones with the big cocks who know exactly what theyâre doing.â She sighs dramatically, leaning back into the couch, adding a moan for effect. âI bet he knows how to use it too.â
You roll your eyes. âNo, heâs definitely a virgin. I can tell.â
The room fills with chatter as the girls go back and forth, arguing over whether Mark is as inexperienced as you claim or secretly a sex god in disguise. The conversation takes on a life of its own, filled with explicit fantasies and wild speculation.
âHonestly, thereâs a rumor going around that heâs fucking Giselle,â Ryujin adds, her tone more serious, like sheâs spilling some kind of secret.
âGiselle?â Ningning scoffs. âPlease. Sheâll fuck anyone with a cock.â
âMaybe thatâs why heâs been so chill lately,â Winter says, laughing. âHeâs getting laid!â
The conversation feels like itâs spiraling, the air heavy with innuendo and teasing, and you canât help but feel a flicker of irritation beneath the surface. Youâre trying to laugh along with them, trying to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of Mark with someone else.
But the truth is, you donât really know what to feel. Youâve been keeping your distance from Mark, trying to navigate your mess of a relationship with Jeno, but thereâs something undeniable growing between you and Mark. Something you canât quite put your finger on.
Karina leans in closer, her voice low. âCome on, Y/N,â she says, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. âYou canât tell me youâve never thought about it. About what itâd be like with him.â
You glance around the room, the girls all watching you expectantly, and for a moment, you feel cornered. The weight of their expectations pressing down on you.
You shrug, trying to play it off. âLike I said, heâs probably a virgin. Nothing to think about.â
âVirgin or not,â she says, her lips curling into a smirk, âheâs still hot. And honestly, I think the quiet ones are always the best in bed. All that pent-up energyâŠâ She trails off, her voice laced with suggestion as she winks at Winter, who giggles.
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the sudden heat rising in your chest. The last thing you want is to picture Mark like thatâespecially not with Karina talking about him like heâs some kind of conquest. But the image creeps in, unbidden, and you quickly push it away.
âAnyways, I heard Jenoâs gonna invite him to his party this weekend,â Karina continues, her voice light and casual, but you can hear the underlying excitement. âI think Iâll make my move then.â
You groan, slapping your hand against your forehead. âWhy is he inviting him?â you mutter under your breath. This wouldnât end wellâyou could already see it.
Karina shrugs, her smirk widening as she leans back against the couch. âShouldnât you know? Arenât you his girlfriend?â Thereâs a teasing edge to her voice, and it grates on your nerves, making your blood simmer just beneath the surface.
You clench your jaw, shaking your head as you try to ignore her, but the annoyance is creeping in, settling deep in your bones. You donât want to think about Jeno, about Mark, about whatever mess you were tangled up in between them. And you definitely donât want to think about Karina making a move on Mark at Jenoâs party.
âYeah, well,â you mutter, standing up from the couch, âIâve got bigger things to worry about than your little plan.â You cross the room and grab your phone from the coffee table, feeling the girlsâ eyes on you the entire time.
Winter giggles softly behind you, her voice sing-song as she chimes in, âCome on, Y/N. Weâre just messing with you. No need to get all worked up.â
You turn, giving them a forced smile, but the tension in your body refuses to dissipate. âIâm not worked up. Just⊠tired.â
Karinaâs eyes linger on you for a moment longer, her smirk still in place. âSure,â she says slowly, like she knows more than sheâs letting on. âTired. Right.â
You let out a small sigh, knowing thereâs no point in arguing with her. She thrives on thisâthe drama, the teasing, the tension. She always has. But right now, all you want is some space to clear your head.
You head toward the door, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. âIâll catch you guys later,â you call over your shoulder, already halfway out the door.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
The music thumped through the walls of the house as you stood at the front door, adjusting your mini black skirt that barely covered anything. It was tight, short, and see-through, leaving little to the imagination. The lace thong you wore underneath was clearly visible if someone looked hard enough, and you had no doubt that people would be looking tonight. Paired with heels, your favorite jewelry, and a form-fitting top that highlighted every curve, you were dressed to kill.
Jeno opened the door, his expression softening into a smile as he took you in. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on the skirt, and you felt the heat already building between you two. He pulled you in for a kiss, his lips warm against yours as his hand slid down to rest on the small of your back, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin. The promise of what would happen later was clear in his touch.
âHey, baby,â he murmured against your lips before pulling away to greet Karina and Winter behind you with a hug and a quick nod.
His eyes were back on you immediately, dark and filled with lust as they traced the lines of your daring outfit. You smiled giddily at him, excited for the night ahead. You already knew how the night would endâtangled in sheets with his body on top of yours, all heat and passion. It was the one thing you both were still good at, even when everything else seemed to be falling apart.
The party was already in full swing, the bass vibrating through the floors as the scent of alcohol and smoke filled the air. The lights were low, casting the room in a warm, golden glow, with people sprawled across the couches and dancing in the center of the living room. Laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses created a chaotic but comfortable atmosphere. You could feel the buzz of energy around you as you stepped further into the house, bodies pressed together as the night unfolded. You were already excited for the night, already anticipating the way things would go later with Jeno. The fire in his eyes told you everything you needed to knowâtonight would be intense.
But then you noticed Mark.
He was across the room, dressed casually in jeans and a simple white t-shirt, but somehow he stood out more than anyone else. His presence seemed to fill the space around him, and your eyes found his before you even realized it. He wasnât hiding the way he was looking at you either. His gaze trailed over your body, lingering on your legs, your hips, the tight skirt that hugged your every curve. There was something deliberate in the way he looked at you, and it made your heart skip a beat.
You huffed, quickly looking away, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. What were you doing? You were here with Jeno, after all. But when you turned back, you saw Jeno walking toward Mark, and your heart sank. You were ready for things to blow up, expecting another confrontation, but to your surprise, Jeno greeted him with a nod and an indifferent expression. At least they werenât killing each other.
Just as you were about to relax, you saw that Mark wasnât alone. A girl stood beside himâsomeone you didnât recognize. She was quiet, her eyes wide as she glanced nervously around the room, like she wasnât used to this kind of environment. There was something shy about her, something that made you uneasy for reasons you couldnât explain.
Jeno greeted her too, his smile a bit too bright as he introduced himself. âIâm Jeno, nice to meet you.â
The girl smiled shyly and introduced herself, but there was something elseâa quick, knowing look exchanged between her and Jeno. It was subtle, but you caught it, and it sent a strange jolt of unease through you. What was that about?
Shaking your head, you turned toward the kitchen, needing a drink to calm your nerves. You grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring yourself a shot and knocking it back quickly. Then another. You didnât stop until the burn settled into your veins, dulling the edge of whatever was eating away at you.
Just as you set the bottle down, you felt the air shiftâthe unmistakable presence of Mark sliding in beside you, close enough that the warmth of his body brushed against yours. His voice cut through the noise, low and teasing, carrying that familiar edge that always seemed to pull your attention.Â
âTaking it a bit far tonight, arenât we?â You turned your head slightly, catching the smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His eyes, dark and sharp, flickered between the empty shot glasses and then back to your face.
You rolled your eyes, feeling a familiar mix of irritation and something elseâsomething that made your heart beat a little faster. âWhat do you care?â you shot back, but there was no bite in your voice. The warmth from the alcohol was already settling into your veins, and maybe that was why you felt more relaxed around him. Or maybe it was just him.
Mark leaned in closer, his arm brushing against yours as he rested his hand on the counter beside you. His scentâclean, warm, with a hint of something that made you want to lean inâfilled the small space between you. âJust looking out for you,â he said, his voice casual, but the glint in his eyes told you there was more to it, lingering for a beat longer than necessary before returning to your eyes. It was subtle, but enough to send a small shiver down your spine. You swallowed, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest as you glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow.
âLooking out for me?â you echoed, your voice carrying a hint of sarcasm, masking the way his presence was making you feel things you werenât ready to admit. âIs that what weâre calling it now?â
âWhy donât you look out for your date?â you shot back, your voice betraying more jealousy than you intended.
Mark chuckled, the sound low and smooth, his attention fully on you. âSheâs not my date,â he said, his voice casual but his eyes locked on yours.
You swallowed hard, caught off guard by how disarming he could be. âWho is she, anyway?â you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though the question lodged itself in your throat.
Mark glanced over his shoulder, nodding toward the girl heâd walked in with. âMy best friend.â
You blinked, surprised by how easily he said it. You had assumed⊠well, something else entirely. âOh,â you murmured, unsure how to respond.
Mark grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. âWhat? Did you think Iâd bring a date to a party knowing youâd be here?â
You felt the heat creeping up your neck, but you quickly masked it with a small smile. âI didnât think about it that much.â
âSure you didnât,â Mark said, his voice dipping lower as his gaze flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, sending a shiver through you.
The air between you felt charged, every unspoken word and lingering glance thick with an intensity neither of you was willing to name. The tension simmered quietly beneath the surface, weaving itself into the playful banter, the stolen glances. You both danced around it, staying in this delicate balance, where each smile, each teasing remark was a way to keep things lightâyet everything about the moment felt intimate, personal. Neither of you dared to break the fragile line between what was said and what was truly felt.
But before you could say anything else, you felt a hand on your waistâJeno.
You gasped softly, your mouth widening in surprise as you realized he had been watching you and Mark the whole time. His eyes were calm, surprisingly calm, but there was something underneath itâsomething you couldnât quite place. You smiled brightly at Jeno, hoping to diffuse whatever tension was building. âHey, baby. Do you want to dance?â you asked, your voice laced with forced cheer.
He shook his head, his expression soft yet serious. âY/N, can we talk?â
You blinked, caught off guard by how gentle he was being. Jeno wasnât usually like thisâcalm, collected. This was new. Maybe this was it, the turning point youâd been waiting for.Â
âYeah, sure,â you said, following him as he led you upstairs to his room. Your heart pounded in your chest as Mark watched you go, his gaze heavy, but you didnât turn back. You couldnât.
Once inside Jenoâs room, you wasted no time, slipping your top over your head, your mind already racing toward what usually came next. You turned to him, expecting to see him ready to go, but instead, he sat at the edge of the bed, head lowered, fingers gripping his knees. His expression wasnât what you were used toâstormy, tense. He wasnât undressing. He wasnât even looking at you.
Confused, you moved closer, kneeling in front of him. Your hands reached for his belt instinctively, trying to pull him out of his mood the way you always did. âJeno, come on,â you murmured softly. âLet me suck you off. Iâll make you forget whateverâs on your mind.â
But instead of the usual eager response, his hand gently covered yours, stopping you. He shook his head, his voice quieter than youâd ever heard it. âY/N, not tonight.â
You paused, your hands frozen mid-movement. âJeno?â
He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something you couldnât quite decipher. âSit down, Y/N.â His voice was soft, but firm as he gently pushed your hands away, motioning for you to sit beside him. âWe need to talk.â
Jeno ran his hand through his hair again, the tension in his posture evident. His gaze softened as he looked at you, the weight of his words settling between you both. âWe need to stop, Y/N. Stop pretending weâre a compatible couple.â
You froze, your breath catching in your throat. âWhat are you talking about?â you whispered, though deep down, you knew exactly what he meant.
Jeno sighed, his voice thick with emotion. âYou know itâs not working anymore. You feel it just as much as I do.â His eyes met yours, and for the first time in a long time, you saw the depth of his sadness. âWeâve been together for so long, but itâs not enough. It hasnât been for a while.â
Tears immediately welled in your eyes as you shook your head, refusing to accept it. âBut weâve been together forever. Weâre supposed to be together, Jeno. What do you mean itâs not enough?â
Jenoâs expression was full of regret, but his resolve didnât waver. âI know it feels that way, but think about it. How many days have we really been happy lately? Itâs just fights, making up through sex, and pretending everythingâs fine. But itâs not. We both know that.â
You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. You didnât want to admit he was right. âI donât want to lose you,â you whispered, your voice barely audible. âI canât. I donât know how to⊠I donât know how to be without you.â
Jeno leaned forward, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. âYouâre not going to lose me,â he said softly. âYou still have me, okay? I still love you, and I always will. But we both deserve more than this. We deserve to be with someone who makes us happy, not just someone weâve been with because itâs comfortable.â
The tears youâd been holding back finally spilled over, and you let out a shaky breath, your chest tightening. You hated how much his words resonated with you. You hated that he was right. But what scared you more was facing the truth, admitting that your relationship with Jeno was broken, that it had been for a while.
âI canât do this,â you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. âIâd rather just⊠Iâd rather keep pretending. I canât face the truth, Jeno. I donât know how.â
His eyes softened even more, filled with understanding. âYou donât have to pretend anymore. You donât have to lie to yourself, Y/N. Itâs okay to admit that things are messed up. Itâs okay to be scared.â
But that was the problem. You werenât good at facing the truth, at being vulnerable. Emotional intimacy terrified you, and youâd spent so long hiding behind the idea that everything was fine, that you could just patch things up with sex and avoid the hard conversations. Being honest, being realâthat was something youâd never been good at. Youâd rather live in the illusion than face the mess underneath.
Jeno seemed to sense your hesitation, your fear. He gently pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as the sobs finally wracked your body. âIâm here,â he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. âIâm not leaving you. Youâll always have me, but this⊠this relationship, itâs not good for either of us. And it hasnât been for a long time.â
You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat. The thought of not being with him terrified you more than you could admit. âI donât want to be alone,â you whispered, the words broken between sobs. âI donât know how to do this.â
âYouâre not alone,â he murmured into your hair. âIâll always be here for you. But we canât keep doing this, pretending weâre happy when weâre not. Itâs not fair to either of us.â
His words were like a dagger to your heart, twisting painfully because deep down, you knew he was right. But the truth was too heavy, too overwhelming. Youâd spent so long avoiding it, pretending that everything was okay, that hearing it now felt like your world was crumbling.
âI still love you,â Jeno said, his voice steady despite the emotion in it. âI love you, but we need to stop hurting each other like this.â
You pulled back slightly, your tear-filled eyes meeting his. The sincerity in his gaze made it hurt even more. âBut what do I do without you?â you whispered, your voice trembling. âI donât know who I am without you, Jeno.â
He reached up, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks. âYouâll figure it out. And Iâll still be here, even if weâre not together like we used to be. Youâre stronger than you think.â
You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you leaned back into him, unable to fully let go. You didnât want this. You didnât want to admit that everything was falling apart. But Jeno was rightâyou were holding on to something that had died a long time ago, and the thought of letting go felt like losing a part of yourself.
For a long time, he just held you as you cried, his arms the only comfort you had left. But eventually, even that had to end. Jeno stood up, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before stepping back.
âIâm gonna go,â he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. âTake some time for yourself. Youâll be okay, Y/N.â
You didnât say anything, your throat too tight with the weight of everything. You just nodded, tears still falling as you watched him leave the room, his presence fading with each step. And as the door closed behind him, you felt the crushing weight of reality settle in, the silence echoing in your chest where your heart had been breaking all along.
You were alone. And for the first time, you couldnât hide from the truth anymore.
Later that night, Mark finds you huddled on the ground, your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to hold it all in, but youâre failing. Your body shakes with sobs that you canât control, and when you hear footsteps approaching, you tense up.
âMark, now is not the time, please go away.â Your voice cracks as you cry out, lips trembling. You cover your face with your hands, not wanting him to see you like this, broken and vulnerable.
But Mark doesnât leave. He doesnât even hesitate. He gets closer, kneeling down beside you. The quiet rustle of fabric is the only sound, and you shiver as he drapes his jacket around your shoulders. Itâs warm, and it smells like himâfresh and clean, grounding you in a way you didnât expect.
âJeno told me to come,â he explains softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You look up, confusion flooding your tear-streaked face. âWhat?â The question falls out, barely coherent, as you swipe at your face, painfully aware of how horrible you must lookâmascara smudged, makeup streaked, and eyes puffy.
Mark doesnât answer with words. Instead, he moves even closer, and before you know it, heâs pulling you into him, gently guiding you onto his lap. You donât resist. His arms wrap around you, and you straddle him, your body sinking into his warmth as if itâs the only safe place you can find.
The sobs come harder now, uncontrollable, and you bury your face in his shoulder, clutching onto him like a lifeline. He holds you tight, one hand smoothing down your back, the other resting against your hair, cradling you like something fragile. His soft whispers, the way he gently hushes you, the quiet âitâs okay, Iâm here,â all create this bubble around the two of you, making the world fade away for a moment.
Markâs presence doesnât fix anything, but it makes you feel less alone. Thereâs no judgment in his touch, no expectation. He lets you cry, lets you fall apart in his arms, and thatâs what breaks you even more. Youâve been holding it in for so long, pretending everything was fine, pretending you were fine.
You donât know how long youâve been like this, pressed close to him, when he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. âWhat happened?â
You suck in a breath, pulling back just slightly, though your forehead still rests against his. Your voice is small, fragile. âHe broke up with me.â
Markâs expression softens, his lips parting as he lets out a quiet âOh.â Thereâs no surprise in his voice, only understanding, only compassion. He doesnât try to fill the silence with meaningless words. Instead, his hand finds its way into your hair, gently smoothing it down, his touch so careful, as if heâs afraid to hurt you more than you already are.
He doesnât ask for details, doesnât push you to talk more. He just holds you, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you, offering you a calm in the midst of your storm. His fingers stroke through your hair, and his other arm is firm around your waist, keeping you anchored to him as you cry quietly into his neck.
And somehow, in the quiet of his embrace, with his soft breaths brushing against your skin, the weight of everything doesnât feel quite as suffocating. The pain is still there, sharp and unrelenting, but Markâs presence makes it bearable. He makes you feel seen, heard, like itâs okay to not have it all together.
For the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself feel. You let yourself break. And Mark is there to catch every piece of you, holding you together when you canât do it yourself.
The silence between you feels intimate, not awkward. Itâs comforting, the kind of silence that says more than words ever could. His arms stay wrapped around you, and for now, thatâs all you need. You just let him hold you.
âMark,â you whisper, your voice shaky, barely audible as you shift closer to him. Your thighs press against his, caging him in. You bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension crackle between you, and notice his subtle groan as his hips press up slightly.
âYeah?â he responds casually, though his voice is rougher, his restraint evident.
âYouâre hard,â you mumble, your tone matching his, casual, as though stating a simple fact. The firmness presses against you, unyielding, hot even through the layers of fabric between you. The heat of him radiates into your skin, the outline unmistakable as it pushes against your thigh. Your words hang in the air, blending with the warmth that rises between you, making the closeness more intimate than it should be, despite the simplicity of the moment. The feeling is undeniable, solid and real, as though the space between you is shrinking with every breath.
Mark shifts slightly under you, groaning low in his throat. He doesnât try to deny it. âYeah, I am,â he says, his voice deeper now, gravelly. He lets out a slow breath before adding, âItâs because youâreââ
But before he can finish, you crash your lips against his, silencing him with a kiss so intense it feels like youâve both been waiting for this moment forever. Already straddling his lap, you press yourself closer, your thighs locking around him tighter, your body molding against his. Your fingers curl into his hair, pulling him into you as if youâre afraid to let go.
Mark responds instantly, his mouth moving against yours with a passion that catches you off guard. His hands slide down to your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you even closer. The kiss is messy, intenseâtongues tangling, soft moans escaping between your lips as the heat between you grows unbearable.
Your hips move of their own accord, grinding down on him, and you feel the hardness pressing against your core, making your breath hitch. His hands roam up your thighs, sliding under your skirt, pushing the flimsy fabric up higher until itâs barely covering you. He grabs your ass, squeezing hard as you rock your hips, the friction between you igniting every nerve in your body.
You moan softly into his mouth, the heat between you both growing unbearable. When Markâs hand moves down to smack your ass, the sound is sharp and commanding, making your body jolt in response. âMark,â you gasp, the name slipping out in a breathless moan. His name was a broken plea on your lips as his hands continue to roam, guiding your movements as you grind harder against him, feeling the friction build between your bodies.
His hands are everywhereâpalming your ass, guiding your movements, pressing you harder against him as you grind down. The heat, the friction, the way he kisses you with an intensity and desperationâit all sends your mind spinning. You feel his desire in every touch, every grip on your skin, and you want more.
You arch your back, pressing your chest against his, the kiss growing even more desperate, your tongues tangling, breaths mingling as soft moans escape between your lips. His hands pull you closer, as if he canât get enough of you, the tension building with every second, every movement.
Mark stands, lifting you effortlessly, his strong hands gripping your thighs as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. You can feel the heat of his body through his clothes, every hard muscle pressing against you. Before you even register whatâs happening, he tosses you onto the bed, Jenoâs bedâand the realization of where you are only adds to the illicit thrill running through you.Â
You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. His chest is broad, his arms flexing with every movement, each line of his body carved like stone. Your gaze traces over the defined ridges of his abs, the muscles contracting with every deep breath he takes, and your heart races, pulse pounding in your ears.
Then your eyes drop lower, and you canât help but stare at the bulge straining against his jeans. The thick, undeniable outline is impossible to ignore, and the sight makes your breath hitch, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as your anticipation skyrockets. The raw need between your legs intensifies, and you press your thighs together instinctively, biting your lip as you imagine whatâs coming next.
Mark moves closer, his hands reaching down to undo his belt, the metal clinking as he loosens it. But just as his fingers graze the zipper, you catch the flicker of doubt in his eyes. Itâs subtle, just a brief hesitation, but itâs enough to shift the atmosphere. The dangerous, primal intensity in his gaze softens, and for a moment, he looks at youânot with the hunger youâve seen, but with something deeper, more conflicted.
You donât say anything, but you feel the weight of the moment hanging between you. His hand pauses at his waistband, and he swallows hard, his jaw clenching. The air thickens with the tension of everything unspoken, and for the first time, you both hesitate, the thrill of the moment colliding with the reality of where you areâof who you are.
Mark leans over you, his hand brushing against your cheek, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast to the heat that had been building just moments before. His thumb runs over your lower lip, lingering there as if heâs warring with himself, battling between desire and restraint.
âWe canât,â he murmurs, his voice low, almost regretful.
You blink, still lost in the heat of the moment, your body screaming for more even as his words register in your mind. âWhat do you mean?â you ask, your voice breathless. You reach for him again, your fingers already working on the button of his jeans. âCome on, Mark⊠we donât need to stop. Iâm on the pill so you can cum inside of me, I donât mind.â
His groan is deep, almost pained, as he steps back. One hand drags down his face, his frustration clear as he shakes his head. âItâs not that,â he mutters, his gaze conflicted. âYou just broke up with Jenoâheâs my brother. And weâre in his room. You really want this to happen here? You want me to fuck you on his bed?â
Your response is immediate, unwavering. âYes.â
He stares at you, huffing out a breath of disbelief. âY/NâŠâ he starts, voice softer now, laced with something between guilt and restraint. âNo. This isnât how itâs supposed to happen. Not like this.â
For a moment, everything pauses. The weight of his words crashes over you, bringing with it a wave of reality youâve been avoiding. The intensity of what almost happenedâthe way you nearly crossed a line that, once crossed, couldnât be undone. Embarrassment starts to creep in, settling in your chest like a heavy stone.
You sit up, hurriedly pulling your clothes back on, avoiding his eyes as the thrill of the moment fades, replaced by a deep ache you didnât expect. The tension between you feels different nowâcharged, yes, but laced with something more painful. Something you canât quite name.
Mark doesnât say anything as he watches you, his chest still rising and falling heavily, the conflict clear in his eyes. You know he wants you, you felt it, but thereâs a line he wonât cross. Not like this. And you hate that it makes sense. You hate that heâs right.
As you stand, buttoning your skirt, you bite your lip, fighting the urge to cry. You werenât ready for all of this to stop so abruptly. You didnât want to face the truth of the situation or the complicated mess your feelings had become. And more than anything, you didnât want to be alone tonight.
âDo you want to come to mine?â you ask, the words shaky, but you force them out. Thereâs a part of you that fears heâll refuse, that this will be the moment everything falls apart completely. But you canât help but hope heâll still want you, even if not here. Not like this.
For a long moment, he doesnât answer. His expression is unreadable, his eyes searching yours for something youâre not sure you can give. The silence stretches, your heart pounding in your chest, the fear of rejection threatening to overwhelm you.
Then, finally, he nods, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand reaches out, offering to help you up, and for the first time since this whole mess started, thereâs a flicker of tenderness in his gaze.
âYeah,â he says quietly, his voice soft, yet sure. âLetâs go.â
Relief washes over you as you take his hand, the touch of his fingers grounding you, soothing the frayed edges of your emotions. As he helps you stand, the tension between you shifts againânot gone, but different. The heat is still there, simmering under the surface, but itâs mixed with something softer now, something that feels more real.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Back at your apartment, the quiet felt almost surreal after the chaos of the night. The familiar warmth of your space wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, a stark contrast to the lingering tension still buzzing between you and Mark. You felt the shift in the air the moment you stepped through the doorâthe atmosphere was softer, quieter, more intimate, and the reality that it was just the two of you sank in.
Mark followed you inside, his eyes taking in your surroundings with quiet interest. The apartment was all yours for the night, a small comfort in itself, and you were already beginning to sober up. Mark, as if reading your mind, immediately took care of you, handing you a bottle of water. âYou need this,â he said softly, his tone gentle, but there was an undercurrent of care in his voice that made your chest tighten.
You took small sips, the cool water refreshing as it slid down your throat, grounding you back to the present. Meanwhile, Mark wandered around your room, and you couldnât help but watch him, feeling something shift between the two of you.
Your space was a reflection of youâa safe haven filled with little pieces of your world. The fairy lights youâd strung up glowed softly, casting a warm, golden hue over everything. The air smelled faintly of lavender, the scent of your candles lingering in the air. Your walls were lined with your art, pieces of yourself you rarely shared with anyone else. There were posters of abstract designs, dreamy landscapes, and sketches that felt like fragments of your soul on display.
Unique and delicate things decorated your shelvesâa crystal lamp you had found at a flea market, a few small plants in pots you had painted yourself, and a collection of books you loved but hadnât read in ages. The room felt like a mix of creativity and chaos, an organized mess that somehow made sense only to you.
Markâs eyes moved from one corner to the next, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took everything in. He seemed fascinated by the art on your walls, lingering over certain pieces as if trying to figure out the stories behind them. You could see the admiration in his gaze, the way he appreciated your space without needing to say much.
âYou really made this place your own,â he commented softly, running a hand over one of the posters, careful not to disturb it. âItâs beautiful..â
A warm flush crept up your neck at his words. You werenât used to someone appreciating your space like this, not in such a genuine, heartfelt way. Mark wasnât just complimenting the decorâhe was complimenting you, the person who had created this world.
âThanks,â you murmured, feeling shy all of a sudden. âItâs nothing special.â
Mark shook his head, still gazing around. âItâs special because itâs yours.â His voice was soft, sincere, and it made your heart do a strange, fluttery thing in your chest.
âCan you help me get my necklace off?â You ask, smiling as heâs already making his way over to you.Â
Markâs fingers worked gently at the clasp of your necklace, his touch soft and deliberate. You tilted your head slightly, giving him better access as he carefully unhooked the delicate chain from around your neck. The warmth of his fingers brushing against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, but it wasnât from the coldâit was the softness of the moment.
He moved slowly, taking the necklace and walking over to your jewellery stand. You watched as he placed it neatly on one of the hooks, his movements calm and precise, as if he had done this a hundred times before. There was something almost tender in the way he handled your things, treating them with care, as if they were an extension of you.
Mark turned back to you, his eyes soft as he reached for your earrings next. His fingers grazed your earlobe, and you held your breath, feeling the closeness between you both. The quiet of the room wrapped around the two of you, making the moment feel even more intimate. One by one, he removed each earring, placing them in their designated spot, never once rushing or making you feel hurried.
The silence was filled with unspoken words, a shared understanding that neither of you dared to voice. When he was done, he looked back at you with a small, almost shy smile. âThere,â he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You needed to clear your head, to shake off the growing feelings you had for him, so you excused yourself to take a shower. As you stood under the warm spray, washing away the remnants of the night, you couldnât stop thinking about the way Mark had looked at you. The way his presence had shifted from something casual and playful to something deeper, more intimate. The thought scared you, but it also made you feel seen in a way you hadnât felt in a long time.
When you finally stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a soft bathrobe, you found Mark sitting on your bed, strumming a gentle tune on a guitar. You paused, tilting your head in confusion. Where did he get that from? You didnât remember him carrying a guitar around at the party or on the way home. Had you really been that out of it?
âWhere did you get a guitar from?â you asked, narrowing your eyes as you watched him hum and play a melody, his fingers dancing over the strings with ease.
He looked up at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. âI always carry it around.â
You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. âIâm pretty sure I wouldâve noticed if you brought a guitar with you to the party.â
Mark chuckled, his laughter soft and infectious. âMaybe you werenât paying attention.â
You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed. âSo, you play basketball and the guitar?â you teased, feeling more relaxed now, the tension easing into something more playful.
He nodded, plucking a few more notes before setting the guitar down. âMy major is music.â
You laughed, shaking your head. âOkay, Troy Bolton.â
He chuckled along with you, his eyes softening as he looked at you. âItâs way past midnight,â he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, more serious. âYou should get some sleep. Donât you have lectures tomorrow?â
You shrugged, already feeling the weight of the day catching up to you. âIâm not going.â
Mark gave you a pointed look. âDonât say that. Yes, you are.â
You sighed dramatically but didnât argue. Instead, you moved to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers and sinking into the soft sheets. The warmth of the bed, combined with the softness of the moment, made your eyelids heavy with exhaustion.
As you began to drift off, you noticed Mark standing up, throwing a blanket onto the chair in the corner. You frowned, sitting up slightly. âYou donât need to sleep there,â you whispered, your voice soft and almost shy. âCome here. Thereâs so much space in my bed.â
He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a small smile. âItâs literally a single bed.â
You rolled your eyes, patting the space beside you. âI just want someone to hold me so I can sleep.â
For a moment, Mark hesitated, his eyes searching yours. But then he sighed, his expression softening as he crossed the room and slipped under the covers beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a way that made your heart race, but also made you feel safe.
Mark held you tightly, his arms pulling you closer, enveloping you in his warmth. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the soothing rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a sense of comfort you hadnât felt in so long. His breath was warm against your forehead, gentle, almost protective, as he leaned in and whispered, âSleep well, Y/N.â
The sound of his voice, low and intimate, sent a soft shiver down your spine. His words werenât just a wish; they felt like a promise, like he was going to hold you through the night and keep you safe.Â
His hand, large and warm, rested softly on your waist, fingers brushing against the bare skin under your shirt with the lightest of touches. It was a subtle, almost unconscious gesture, but the intimacy of it sent your heart fluttering. He didnât pull away; he stayed close, his body pressed gently against yours, grounding you in the moment. Every small shift of his body, every breath he took, seemed to ease the tension that had been weighing on you for so long.
You let your hand rest on top of his, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. His fingers instinctively intertwined with yours, the touch delicate yet reassuring. It was more than just physical contactâit was the silent understanding that you werenât alone anymore, that he was here, holding you through it all.
His lips brushed lightly against your forehead, a featherlight kiss that made your heart swell. âIâve got you,â he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in his tone wrapped around you like a blanket.
With a soft sigh, you let yourself relax completely, your body melting into his. You could feel the last remnants of stress slipping away, replaced by the steady, calming presence of Mark beside you. His embrace was warm, solid, and it made you feel safe in a way you hadnât in what felt like forever.
As your eyes fluttered closed, you let yourself fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, your mind finally quiet, the weight of the world finally slipping away, knowing he would be there when you woke.
ââââââââïżœïżœïżœââââââââââââââââââââââ
authors note â surprise!! iâve been teasing this one for a while and just wanted to drop it without any prior warning :) this is gonna be a long ride and have many more parts so comment if you want to be on the tag list :) send an ask through telling me what you thought or interact !! thank you
#mark smut#nct smut#mark lee smut#nct fic#mark fic#mark lee fic#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct#nct dream#nct dream fic#nct fluff#nct 127#nct 127 fic#mark lee#mark lee fluff#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#nct mark#nct mark lee#nct scenarios#nct x reader#nct angst#mark lee angst#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fluff#nct dream imagine#nct dream scenarios
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LOST IN TRANSLATION - mark lee smau
you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine ? they only offered you the job no one else wanted.
on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully itâll earn him money, but itâs not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day.
once the school band announces theyâre looking for a new guitarist, heâs absolutely ready to apply until he reads the âmusic students onlyâ part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the gc, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.
business major! mark x fem journalism major! reader
GENRE â fluff, comedy, humor, slowburn, strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au, college au
WARNINGS â a little bit of cursing, probably kys/kms jokes, mark is really unlucky and awkward, reader as a journalism student loves gossiping a LOT and sheâll get into everyoneâs business to do her job properly, a lot of teasing, includes mlm, features other idols (aespa, enhypenâŠ)
STATUS â ongoing
UPDATES â every monday, wednesday and saturday
TAGLIST â open (reply or send an ask)
PLAYLIST â solo - frank ocean, ivy - frank ocean, highway to heaven - nct 127, pink matter - frank ocean, infrunami - steve lacy, attracted to you - pinkpantheress, leave the door open - bruno mars, only if - steve lacy, i like me better - lauv, 200 - mark, fireflies - nct dream, up to you - prettymuch+nct dream, itâs yours - nct dream
A/N â my first smau ever :) but iâm so excited ! hopefully it goes well đđ»
profiles 1 || profiles 2
band introduction
Y/Nâs magazine account
1) accidental confessions
2) donât do anything stupid
3) y/nâs hit tweet
4) we are the most mysterious bitches in this cafeteria
5) they know what you did
6) you found me thanks to my private twitter ?
7) two baddies with connections
8) one at a time gentlemen
9) show them whoâs the king
10) a little stalking never hurt anyone
ïżŒïżŒ11) we arenât homophobic !
12) surrounded by opps
13) weâre locked in baby
14) she has a hand kink
15) hope they play charli xcx
16) party in the city where the heat is on
#nct#nct imagines#nct mark#nct scenarios#nct x reader#mark lee#nct fanfic#nct smau#nct dream#nct 127#mark lee smau#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#mark lee x y/n#mark lee x fem reader#mark x reader#mark x y/n#lee mark#mark imagines#mark lee imagines#nct texts#nct dream texts#nct 127 texts#nct dream fluff#nct 127 fluff#mark scenarios#nct x you#nct x y/n#mark smau#mark lee scenarios
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âfor real! it was this massive rhino messing around and the cops couldn't hold him down, so i dropped by and thought i could give them a hand. so he came to me, right, full force. and then bang!%# dodged him like nothing. a piece of cake, seriously. i shoot some webs and man! he was so done, baby! like, i could sense when he was gonna throw a punch, it's like this tingling in my chest telling me... âso yeah. he tried to punch me, but i'm like... really fast, i hit him one, two, three times, i tangled his feet in spider web and then he couldn't move, but he was really strong, so i knew they weren't gonna held him for long. he threw a fucking car door at me! then âthe tingling i mentioned you about, you know? the... spider sense, KICKED IN! and everything went in slowmo. i ran right into the car door, and i passed through the window and âi can't even believe it. and right after, i stopped it with my web and sent it back to him. sent him to sleep right away, babe. sorry, am i talking too much?â
it takes you a couple of seconds to notice the amazed grimace on your face when you shake your head, and soften your eyes. âwow, markie. that's impressive.â you smile.
he chuckles, âit was.â
#mark imagines#mark fluff#mark scenarios#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark lee fluff#âĄmark
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The Return of Superman- Mark
(cw: f!reader called âmamaâ, a child duh)
Mark had spent a good few decades with a lot of his life documented on cameras. There were music videos, behind the scenes vlogs, cameras, talk shows, selfies, you name it- he did it. There was however, one area of his life that wasn't show or documented for the public. That was you, your marriage, and his son.
There had of course been the announcement on SM's end about Mark being in a relationship, then there was SM the announcement five years later about the two of you being married paired with a post from Mark with a wedding picture of the two of you where your face wasn't seen, and then the last announcement 3 years ago announcing the birth of his son.
Mark completely understood and agreed with your apprehension to show aspects of your life to the public, especially regarding your son. There was the occasional post with you and you can recall the uproar it caused across social media when Mark finally posted your full face on his public account. It was complete madness. People had managed to track down your place of work and even found other pictures of you from your friend's account. You had reason to be apprehensive regarding the privacy of you family.
However, as your son got older, you and Mark got more comfortable sharing more and more about your life, still being mindful of your privacy. So when Mark's managers called and mentioned his own episode on The Return of Superman, you had both discussed it and cautiously agreed with a few conditions. Conditions that were met with no argument since Mark was such a big celebrity to lock in.
--
Mark was sitting in the confessional, the familiar black curtain behind him as he introduced himself to the camera, "uh yeah, hi. My name is Mark Lee, I've been a member of NCT since 2016. My wife and I have been married for almost 9 years and our son is 3 years old."
He pauses as he listens to a producer as a question. He chuckles and shakes his head, "My son and I spend a lot of time together, but loves his mom. I try to take him out for some father and son bonding, but he cries for mom after an hour, when he play together he always involves her. It's great, I obviously love her too, but I think these few days the two of us will be kind of rough."
The scene cuts to the cameras panning over the space of yours and Mark's home as the commentators laugh and predict what they think will happen.
Mark is shown sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before putting on his glasses and heading for his son's room. You had left the night before for a much needed girl's weekend with friends. You waited until your son was gone, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses as he slept in his toddler bed before sneaking out of the room and bidding Mark goodbye with his own barrage of kisses and watery eyes. You knew Mark would be fine alone. He was a good dad and his confidence had skyrocketed once his son had grown out of the shaky steps phase.
"Wow, that is such a cool boy room!" One of the commentators marveled as the camera in Mark's sonâs room showed the room covered in Spider-man. He had Spider-man sheets, blankets, wall stickers, toys, books- everything.
Mark smiled softly at the sight of his son sprawled across his little bed, still deeply asleep. Mark made his way to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He turned on the rice maker and began cracking eggs into the pan, watching tiredly as they turned from translucent to white.
One commentator cleared her throat, "this is interesting. Isn't it well-known that Mark can't cook eggs? I wonder if he's gotten better or his son likes them?"
The scene shows Mark and his son sitting at the dining table, his son blinking slowly and using both his hands to keep his head up. Mark laughs softly, scooping up a spoonful of rice and fried egg to feed his son. Usually, he'd be able to feed himself but this morning he's just too sleepy and Mark admittedly likes babying him. He is still a baby.
His son tiredly chews, his eyebrows furrowing and his face falling into one of confusion. He opens his eyes fully as he leans away from the next spoonful of food heading for him. "What's that?" his little voice asks as his finger points at the egg.
"It's eggs and rice, bub. Say ah," Mark instructs.
"Mama made it?" his son asks while turning his cheek away from the spoon.
"No, I made it," Mark replies, deciding to instead take the bite of food for himself.
His son scrunches his face up and takes the fried egg from his bowl and places it into Mark's, "yucky, Appa. No thank you!"
Mark tilts his head back with a roll of his eyes as the commentators laugh and compliment his son's good manners despite him calling the egg 'yucky.'
The scene cuts to Mark and his son standing in the entryway of your home, putting on their shoes. As Mark opens the door, his son freezes, "is Mama sick?"
Mark is hesitant to respond, "no, Mama isn't here. Remember it's going to be just me and you until tomorrow night?"
He can hear the familiar catch of his son's breath as he nervously looks up at Mark, "she's ok? She's coming tomorrow?"
Mark feels his heart melt, and the commentators all aww and coo over how cute the 3 year old is. Mark crouches down in front of him, picking him up and hosting him onto his hip, "of course she's coming back. Come on, we're going to go ride bikes at the park and get dinner with uncles later. Does that sound fun?"
His son sniffles and nods, "and ice cream?"
Mark laughs, "yes, and ice cream."
--
The camera crew follows Mark and his son around the park, watching as Mark teaches the boy to pedal and steer the bike. He eventually gets the hang of it and begins riding around on his own with a big smile. His little laughs and giggles fill the air as he zooms in every direction much faster than Mark or any of the cameramen expected, especially the cameraman tasked with following the boy around with his heavy camera.
It's all going well, no tears, no complaints, not even a mention of you, until the tricycle comes to an abrupt stop and turns when it gets too close to the edge of the grass. Mark sprints over the second he sees the tricycle teeter over and makes it to his son before the tears start.
He keeps calm as he looks his son over for any wounds, finding none and immediately being filled with relief. His son must have just gotten scared from the fall. Nonetheless Mark holds him close and rocks him as he cries into Mark's t-shirt.
"I want Mama," his son cries.
"I know buddy, I'm sorry. Does it hurt anywhere?"
His son continues to cry and shakes his head, his sobs turning into sniffles as he calms down. Mark pushes the hair away from his son's forehead and presses a long kiss to the sweaty skin, "you are being so brave, bub. I know it was scary, huh? I am so proud of you."
"And Mama too?" his son asks with watery eyes.
"Yes, and Mama too. You can tell her all about it when she comes home tomorrow. You can tell her that you heal fast like Spider-man."
His son perks up and his eyes brighten, "like Spider-man?"
Mark nods and stands, with his son in one arm and the tricycle in the other, "Oh yeah, big guy. Just like Spider-man, whenever he gets scared he keeps going, right?"
This sets his son off on his little tangent about Spider-man fighting the Green Goblin, then Doc Oc, and how he uses his webs and how the bad guy loses and Spider-man always wins.
The scene cuts to Mark in the confessional, "I really have enjoyed my time on the show, but I may be worse than my son. If you have me back, can she stay too? Please."
#kpop imagines#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#nct#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#mark lee x reader#mark lee imagines#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenarios#dad!nct#tros-nct
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small overstimulation fic with mark lee, who loves to see you crying and begging him to stop. pretty please <3
â overstimulation, dacryphillia
mark stared at your wet, tear stained face, your eyes puffy and red, âhey, hey, baby, whatâs wrong?â he asked genuinely, his voice soft as his dark, glossy eyes bore into yours. his hips, though, contradicted his words, never stopping their relentless pace of ramming into you.
âsât-too much, c-canâtâŠâ
he frowned slightly. wasnât he making you feel good? âsure you can, y-you jusâ lay there and look pretty, baby,â he groaned, his breath coming out in short puffs of air that cooled your hot and flushed face.
more tears fell, dripping past your temples and onto your hairline as you lay helplessly. you tried to squeeze your legs together, to push weakly at markâs chest, anything to signal to him that you were near your breaking point, but mark only continued.
âdonât fight it baby, l-let me make you feel good,â he said, his dick twitching at your pained expression, clad with hot tears and incoherent pleas.
youâre clit ached, and the constant penetration of markâs cock had you knowing you were going to be sore for days afterwards. sex with mark always felt great, amazing actually. he was so caring, so tentative to your needs, pulling out every moan and orgasm he could, making you feel euphoric. but when he got like this, you knew nothing could bring him back to earth until he was satisfied.
âm-mark, hurts, ah, h-hurts so badâŠâ you cried. your body was too weak to even try and fight back anymore.
mark leaned down to kiss the tears off your face, his other hand gently pulling your legs apart, âshhh, i-iâm making you feel better, a-arenât i?â he said, his voice straining against the sounds he wanted to let out from his own approaching orgasm.
he didnât understand, he was helping you! making you feel so, so good! you should be thanking him. although, the more mark stared down at you, the closer he got. he almost couldnât tell if it was your crying or your snug, warm walls making him delirious, the line blurring in his already fuzzy mind.
it was sick, mark knew, to get off on his girlfriendâs tears. but you just looked so cute! and paired with your endless babbles of begging him to stop, or to at least just slow down, he knew he wasnât going to last much longer.
he watched as your body stopped tensing, stopped trying to hit and push at his own. his hips snapped into you faster now as he groaned against the nape of your neck, your short mumbles and whimpers driving him further and further up the wall of his release.
âshit, baby, l-look so cute taking my c-cock like that. love it when you, ah, cry, s-so pretty fâme,â mark didnât even realize when he came, his climax hitting him like a bus, and he also didnât realize what he said, talking mindlessly as he stilled his hips, coming inside the condom.ïżŒ
@yongvillage | à»ê°àŸàœČá” á” á” ê±àŸàœČ১
#nct 127 smut#nct smut#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 imagines#nct dream x reader#nct dream smut#nct drabbles#nct x reader#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct scenarios#mark lee smut#mark lee x reader#mark lee fanfic#mark lee scenarios#nct hard thoughts
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MIDAS TOUCH ⊠mark lee
pairing female!reader x spider!mark
synopsis just because your boyfriend is your friendly neighborhood spiderman, doesnât mean heâs a tough guy all the time. you especially know how to get his nerdy, awkward, boyish side to show when you express your likings towards someone else (even if they are fictional).
genre so much fluff, mark is so down bad itâs not even funny, slightly suggestive.
âdo you really think heâs tougher than me?â
your boyfriend, mark, whines as he hangs by his finger tips from your ceiling. you stood in front of your mirror, touching up your lipgloss with gentle strokes.
the tv played the daily news, clips of your boyfriend swinging around the city flash vibrantly catching his attention.
âiâm not saying heâs tougher than you mark. heâs a fictional character.â you sighed, looking at mark through the reflection in your mirror.
he still hung behind you, his spidey-skills giving him the ability to stick to any surface with ease. a small pout was on his lips, taking in your words but still watching the tv.
âi can literally swing from buildings and hang upside down. i bet he canât do that.â mark let go of one of his hands, throwing it out in protest.
you finalized your touch ups, turning around to tug on markâs t-shirt which had begun to ride up his torso. âyouâre seriously jealous of someone whoâs not even real?â
his eyes quickly tore away from the screen at the feeling of your fingertips on his bare skin. you smirked, seeing the way his cheeks and ears immediately began to flush a light pink.
âhow am i supposed to react when i see you giggling at some words on a page and not me?â he plops to the ground with a thud, moving past you quickly to hide his blushing. mark always tried to hide his dorky, awkward side from you even if he was unsuccessful ninety-nine percent of the time.
you laugh, quickly reaching out to tug him back by one of his belt loops by his hip. his steps stuttered before he looked back to see you looking up at him with a grin. âi laugh at you all the time spidey-boy.â
he finally turns around, leaning his body against your door frame accepting defeat. your other hand comes to hook around his waist, pulling yourself nearly flush against him.
âyeah-â he looks down at you not able to fight the urge. âbut youâre laughing at me. youâre a complete bully to me!â he goes on, your lips pulling more into a smile as he goes on.
âyou know,â you fight back your laugh, turning towards your desk where your book sat annotated to the brim, âhe wouldnât be acting like this.â you turn to see mark completely dumbfounded.
he tore his eyes away from you, scoffing as he looked at the book. how could you be so caught up in a guy who wasnât even real?
âhow would you feel if i was drooling over some girl in the movies we watch?â he dropped his head to the side, you almost swore his eyes were trying to trick you into feeling bad.
âfirst off, i would beat you to it.â you reached out and brushed his bangs that fell into his face away. âdonât beat yourself up markie, not every girl can say that they are are actually, not fictionally, dating spiderman.â you smiled as you continued to soothe him as your fingers raked against his scalp.
his pout morphed into a smiled at your words. âyeah, youâre rightâŠâ he leaned back against the wall, smirking to himself. â-not every girl gets to wake up and see these bad boys and know theyâre from my heroic duties.â mark reach up and leaned his head against his arm, causing his muscles to flex in your face.
you could have sworn you felt yourself drool a little. mark wasnât the most ripped man in the world, but those spidey-skills donât just come without putting in a little effort.
your eyes followed from his lean forearm, to his sculpted triceps, and then to his lean shoulders that practically suffocated in his t-shirt.
âyeah⊠youâre right.â your words came out slow and soft. you couldnât even think of a clever comeback and you didnât care to.
mark watched you with a satisfied smile, knowing you were just trying to get under his skin a bit. âso what was it about that guy?â
âi have no idea what your talking about.â you quickly pulled him flush to you, your lips silencing him from commenting on how red your cheeks had gotten.
as your lips moved with one anotherâs, you couldnât help but smile as you felt his hands skim under your shirt.
âi love you, you know? even if you do like some fictional guy over me.â mark muttered against your lips as you shoved his shoulder softly. âi love you too.â you pecked his lips once before kissing along his cheek. âway more than that guy.â you felt him smile against your lips.
thank god you werenât one of the girls who had to imagine these scenarios with mark.
hiiiiii!!!! omg iâve been gone for so long this feels so weird. sorry this is so short and literal trash T-T i just really wanted to get something out. please leave any recs in my inbox!!!
#nct#nct dream#nct dream fic#nct fluff#nct 127#mark lee fic#mark lee x reader#nct mark lee#mark lee fluff#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark x reader#mark lee#nct mark#nct fic#nct imagines#nct scenarios
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â name
Baby, Mark drawls, his doe eyes sleepy and his lips in a pout, grabbing at the sheets as you try to pull it away from him. His movements are sluggish and drowsy, but he's so content. The curtains are open and itâs already bright out, but he's so warm and he's drowning in your scent, he wants nothing more than to be here forever;
Lover, he whispers, when you trip over the word âfriendâ as you introduce him, and it makes him smile. Lover was eternal. Too strong, he thought, to be uttered to others, but that was what you were â his gentle, beautiful lover â and he hadn't missed the way the word brought color to your cheeks;
Cutie, he laughs as you fail to learn another choreography, huffing about a hurting back and accusing Mark of being too perfect. The word slips from his mouth and makes you hit him playfully. What kind of nickname is that? He ruffles your hair as you try to slip away from his reach, but whatever you did right now, Mark found that it was the most adorable thing in the world;
Darling, he says absently, going through his phone. You freeze and answer him anyway but Mark doesnât miss the pause. Even though he didnât do it on purpose, he enjoyed that, the way he could still make you stop in your tracks even all these years later;
Dearest, he writes, his handwriting a mess, but he wants to tell you everything all at once, and he doesnât know if the pen or paper will last. Dearest, I miss you today as I have every second I was away from you. Dearest, your absence is intolerable. Dearest, I love you, I love you, I love you.
#mark lee#nct mark#nct 127#nct dream#superm mark#mark lee scenarios#mark#nct dream mark#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct u reactions#nct#nct scenarios#nct fanfic#nct u#superm blurbs#superm scenarios#superm imagines#nct 127 drabbles#nct 127 mark#nct 127 smut#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#marksdaydreams.fic
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