#mark fluff

[j0shuahongs]

Say It Again

summary: just mark malfunctioning

pairing: mark lee x female reader

genre / tags: fluff, smut, slight humor, established relationship

warnings: explicit sexual content, fingering, soft dom!mark, praise kink / pet name kink, lots of pet names, and overuse of the word "baby". (please tell me if i missed some!)

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this was supposed to be a very cute and fluffy fic but I got carried away (whoops) 🤭

You’re not a pet name type of person. You tease him for using them. Roll your eyes every time he says babygirl or sweetheart or honey. Always hit him with:

— “Okay, Romeo. Relax.” — or a dry “Gross.”

You’re smiling, though. Every single time.

He knows you are. Doesn’t even need to look up anymore — just hears the edge of your voice, catches the tiniest upturn in your mouth, and it makes his chest ache. This is just who you are. You love him with your whole heart. But anything too mushy? Too sweet? Makes you squirm. Too cheesy? Too sentimental? You’d rather set yourself on fire.

You fold his laundry, steal his hoodies, and kiss his forehead every morning— but call him baby? God forbid.

So he gave up on expecting anything back. Not in a sad way — more like muscle memory now. A quiet acceptance.

Mark knows his role — he’s the nickname guy, you’re the pet-name grump.

He calls you angel when you look sleepy. Pretty girl when you’re mad at him. Darling when you’re sick and curled up in bed, nose pink and pouty.

You just shake your head and mutter, “You’re so embarrassing.” But you never tell him to stop.

He’s accepted it. Doesn’t need the words. He has all the proof he needs in the way you touch him, look at him, reach for his hand under the table even when you're pretending to be annoyed. He’s already so gone for you, it’s pathetic.

But then.

One day.  

No warning.  

You're in the middle of conversation, half-distracted, elbow-deep in a crinkly paper bag of fries, when you say it.

“Wait, can you pass me that? Thanks, baby.”

Just like that. Casual. Offhanded. As if you didn’t just drop a nuclear bomb onto his entire existence.

Silence.

You don’t even register it. Just keep rustling through your food, completely unaware of the spiritual event you’ve triggered behind you.

Mark freezes.

Hand halfway extended, holding the takeout container like it’s sacred scripture.

His whole body stills. Eyes wide. Jaw slack.

Soul... buffering.

“...What,” he breathes. “What did you just call me?”

You glance over your shoulder, chewing.

“Huh?”

He blinks. Slowly. Like he’s trying to reboot.

“You said—”

His voice cracks. “You said baby.”’

You shrug, lips full of noodles.

“Oh. Did I?”

“Did I??” he echoes, horrified. “Do you even understand what you’ve done?!”

You pop a spring roll into your mouth, already focused on unsealing the dipping sauce.

“Relax, Mark. It just slipped out.”

And that’s when he absolutely short-circuits.

“SLIPPED OUT?!”

He clutches his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. Slumps against the back of the chair with the drama of a soap opera lead.

“I need to sit down—wait, I am sitting. Then why do I feel like I’m gonna faint?”

You snort into your drink, nearly choking on a sip of iced tea.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m writing this down,” he rambles, hand now scrabbling blindly for his phone. “I’m journaling this. This is the highlight of my fucking life. Our future kids are hearing this story.”

“Mark. You’re crying.”

“I’M NOT—crying—I’m just—emotionally compromised.”

You shake your head, grinning into your food like an idiot, while across from you Mark stares at the ceiling in silent, reverent awe. Like he’s just heard the voice of God.

Later that night, you’re sprawled on the couch, stomach full, brain slow. Wrapped in post-dinner haze and the sound of the TV droning low in the background. One leg draped over the armrest, your hand resting lazily on your belly like a satisfied cat.

Mark’s on the other end, curled into himself, hoodie wrinkled, sleeves shoved up to his elbows as he wages war with a stubborn snack bag. His tongue pokes out in concentration, brows furrowed, completely unaware that you’re watching him like he’s the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen.

You pass behind the couch to grab your drink, then pause —

just long enough to lean down, press a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and murmur:

“Thanks, baby.”

You don’t even look back. Just grab your drink like it’s nothing.

But behind you—something shifts.

You make it three steps before it hits you.

Mark hasn’t moved.

You glance back.

He’s frozen. Snack bag in hand, half-open, arms slack. He’s staring ahead, not blinking—like someone just whispered the secrets of the universe in his ear and he’s trying to process them.

“…Mark?”

He turns to look at you, slow and awestruck. Like you just performed a miracle in front of him.

“You just—” He swallows hard. “You said it again.”

You tilt your head, one brow lifting.

“Said what?”

He gasps. Full gasp.

“Said what?! Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you said.”

You rest your elbows against the back of the couch, watching him with a smirk that’s far too satisfied.

“You mean baby?”

Mark doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. The TV hums in the background. Somewhere outside, a car drives by.

Then it hits him. Again.

The snack bag falls from his hand with a soft crinkle. He recoils, clutching his chest like he’s trying to physically contain his heart.

“I’m sweating,” he mutters, fanning himself. “Do you feel that? That’s my soul leaving my body. You just—casually—called me baby like it was nothing. Like you didn’t just rewrite my entire DNA.”

You laugh so hard your knees buckle. You have to grab the couch just to stay upright.

“No, because what do I do now?!” he groans, sliding dramatically down into the cushions. “Do I sit normally? Offer you a ring? Should I faint? Do people faint romantically anymore?!”

“Mark—”

“I’m spiraling,” he moans, draping his arm over his face like he’s in the final scene of a tragic play. “You said it so casually. That was so unfair.”

You circle around to the front of the couch and settle yourself into his lap, straddling him like it’s second nature. He stiffens beneath you, lips parting slightly—like your weight on him just activated some buried instinct.

You tilt your head, playful. “If I said it again… would you survive?”

“Absolutely not.”

You lean in, close enough to feel his breath catch, your mouth brushing the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, baby.”

Mark’s brain stopped working.

His body locks up. Shoulders tense. Jaw slack. You swear you can hear his heartbeat from across the room.

His hands grips your waist, hard and instinctive, like he’s afraid the moment will vanish if he doesn’t hold onto it. His head drops back with a soft, helpless whimper — the kind he’d deny with every breath in his body later, but can’t suppress now.

“I’m not okay,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut. “You’ve ruined me. Say it again.”

You’re still laughing, shoulders shaking, when his hand comes up and gently wraps around your wrist, pulling you closer— not rough, not demanding, just desperate.

Like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. Like he just needs to feel you to know this is real.

“Say it again,” he pants, pupils blown wide. “I need to know it wasn’t an accident.”

You shrug, smirk curling at your lips. “It was an accident.”

“Liar,” he whispers.

His arms wrap around you tight, locking you in place. “You said it like you meant it.”

You pause. The laugh dies in your throat. Because something about the way he says it—quiet. steady. awestruck—makes your pulse stutter.

You drop your eyes to his lips. Your fingers are on his chest now, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart under your palm.

“You like it when I call you that, baby?”

His breath shudders. His grip on your waist tightens— like he can barely hold himself back.

You see the shift in his eyes. The air between you shifts—turns weighty, electric. Mark leans in, just enough that his nose brushes yours. He breathes you in.

The room suddenly feels warmer, your clothes feel suffocating.  

“Don’t say that,” he warns, voice rough. “Unless you want me to lose control.”

You grin, tilting your hips against his.  

“Maybe I do want you to lose control.”

That undoes him.

He grips your thighs, hard, and flips you underneath him in one swift, desperate motion. Your back hits the cushions with a soft thump, stealing your breath before you can even think.  

His body hovers above yours, warm and tense and trembling.

He moves before he even thinks—

No more softness. No teasing.  

His mouth crashes into yours like he needs to consume you— tongue licking into your mouth like he needs to taste the word baby right off your tongue.

His hands are already under your shirt, sliding up your stomach, dragging the fabric with them.

He groans into your mouth when he feels your bare skin— feels you tremble.

His lips leave yours, trailing down your jaw to the curve of your neck to your collarbone.

“You don’t get to say that and act innocent,” he growls, nipping at your skin.

His fingers slide down, skimming just above the waistband of your shorts— not quite dipping beneath, just teasing the edge.

“You’re fucking soaked through your shorts and I haven’t even touched you.”

You gasp, hips jerking.

“Want me to behave?” he hisses. “When you’re like this?”

You whimper.

He pulls back just enough to look at you—his hair falling into his eyes, lips flushed, chest rising and falling like he just ran a mile.

“You trust me?” he asks again, but this time it’s a whisper against your lips.

His fingers pause at the waistband of your shorts.

You nod, breathless. “Yes.”

You shift against him, guiding his hand lower. “I want this.”

He shoves your shorts down with one rough tug— underwear too— not even bothering to fully take them off.

He slides his hand between your legs, fingers slipping through your folds, achingly slow.

He groans the second he feels it.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes.

His eyes flick up to yours, hazy and dazed.

“You’re dripping. Did that word really get you this wet, baby?”

You can’t answer. Can’t even think.

Your head drops back, and your hips lift instinctively into his hand.

He doesn’t rush.

He takes his time with you— running his fingers along your slit, collecting your slick and dragging it up in slow, lazy circles around your clit.

You jolt beneath him, letting out a broken noise. Somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

“Greedy already?” he murmurs, voice hot against your skin. “Thought you didn’t do pet names.”

“Mark—fuck—please—”

“Oh, please now?” he teases. “Begging so sweet already. What if I make you say it again?”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Say it.”

You gasp.

“Baby.”

He groans—deep and guttural—like he’s unraveling from the inside out.

Then he sinks one finger into you.

Your back arches. Your walls clench instantly, the stretch rips a cry from your lips, and he watches—entranced.

His eyes are dark, locked on the way your body opens up for him, your mouth parting, breath stuttering.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing your pulse. “Say it when I’m inside you.”  

He starts to move—slow thrusts, deep and rhythmic. Each push of his finger drags a little moan out of you.

He curls his finger just right—presses deep and up—

and you gasp, hands scramble at his hoodie, digging into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His second finger slides in beside the first. He drags his fingers just right, slow and deliberate, making your stomach clench. His palm grinds against your clit every time he thrusts.

The wet sounds of your pussy echo with every stroke.  

“You hear that?” he growls. “You’re so wet I can fucking hear it, baby. That’s all you. All for me.”  

You cry out, hips lifting to grind into his hand.  

Mark’s eyes are wild. Possessive.  

He watches you like you’re unraveling just for him— like your pleasure is the only thing that exists.  

“Mark—oh my god—don’t stop—”  

He doesn’t. His fingers move faster now, smoother. Purposeful. Pressing again at that spot.

Your thighs tremble. Your breath comes in shallow gasps. Every nerve feels tight, like a bowstring ready to snap.

He laughs, low and breathless, and kisses your neck, open-mouthed and hungry. 

“Gonna cum on my fingers?” he breathes, curling them again. Dragging his palm over your clit in steady circles as his fingers fuck you deep. “Gonna fall apart just from my hand?”

You can’t answer. You’re too close. Too far gone.

“Say it again,” he breathes, lips brushing your jaw. “Let me hear it.”

“Baby—fuck, I’m—”  

He groans, deep and broken, like it cracked something open inside him.

He’s gone. No hesitation. No holding back—just raw, hungry need as his fingers move faster.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Just like that—baby, fuck—cum for me— let me feel it.”

Your breath catches.

One more stroke like and—

You break.

The orgasm hits so hard it steals the breath from your lungs. Your whole body jolts—back arching, legs locking around his hand. A cry rips from your throat, loud and raw.

Your walls pulse around his fingers as he fucks you through it, stroking you with deep, steady thrusts—like he wants to memorize every twitch, every moan.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers.

“That’s so fucking hot—baby, fuck,” he moans, like he feels it in his soul.  

He doesn’t stop until your hips twitch and you go soft beneath him, whimpering from the sensitivity.

Then he slows, easing out of you with soaked fingers, his eyes drinking you in like he’s never seen anything more divine.  

He sits back on his knees, eyes raking over you like he can’t believe what just happened. You’re a mess—hair damp, skin flushed, eyes glassy. Your chest rises and falls in shallow, shaky breaths — like your body’s still chasing the echo of his touch.

Mark exhales hard, staring at his wet fingers, trembling slightly — Then at you. Then—

without a word he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean

One by one. Slow. Obscene. Eyes never leaving yours.

You make a sound you didn’t know you were capable of, and he smirks.

He leans in, presses a kiss to your temple.

Then one to your cheek.  

Then your lips—soft now, careful.  

“You have no idea what you just did to me,” he breathes.  

You smile, dazed and wrecked. “You’re dramatic.”  

He shakes his head slowly, eyes locked on yours.  

“No. I’m obsessed.”

You groan, hiding your face in his hoodie. He laughs, warm and breathless, as he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

He lowers himself beside you on the couch, pulling you into his chest like something precious. Like he’s afraid if he lets go, this whole night will vanish into smoke.

The silence between you now isn’t awkward. It’s heavy in a good way. Thick with something neither of you wants to say out loud yet. So instead, he just holds you.

For a long moment, the only sound is the soft thrum of the TV. Your breathing syncs with his.

Then — quietly, tentatively — he speaks again.

“Baby,” he says again, like a prayer. Like a confession. “I’m gonna make you say that every time I touch you.”  

You bury your face in his neck, body still tingling.  

“You broke me. I’m changed. That word will haunt me—in the best way,” he says, grinning.  

You curl into his chest, breath syncing with his, safe in the warmth of his arms. Your fingers trace idle circles over his chest, hidden beneath the cotton of his hoodie. Slow and aimless. He holds you tighter and breathes you in, like he doesn’t want to let go.

“Say it again,” he whispers into your hair.

You blink. Look up.

“Not for sex,” he murmurs. “Not to mess with me. Just… say it.”

He looks at you like he’s holding his breath. Like he’s asking for a secret. A promise.

You lift your hand to his face, fingers brushing his jaw, gentle. He turns into your touch instinctively.

And you say it.

Soft. Sure. No teasing this time.

“I love you, baby.”  

Mark exhales — a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost a sob. Like relief, like peace.  

Like he can’t believe you’re real.  

Like you just gave him the world with one small word—

The one word he thought he’d never hear.

Baby.

[tyonfs]

a series of white lies

❝ he calls me ‘dude.’ i can’t date a guy whose term of endearment for me is the same one he uses for johnny suh. ❞

PAIRING ▸ mark lee x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, high school au, best friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, underage drinking, honestly just a lot of fluff, johnny has a twin sister in this, mark drives with one hand on the steering wheel and i thought this deserved a separate warning, me fulfilling my mark lee gamer bf needs, fluffy kiss scenes, and mutual pining (but they think it’s unrequited love) ofc !!

SUMMARY ▸ in which it takes you six years to accept that you’re in love with mark lee. (it takes him one.)

PLAYLIST ▸ crush by lucian, tiffany day • falling for u by mxmtoon, peachy! • rising, rising - bassnectar remix by crywolf, bassnectar

WORD COUNT ▸ 10,514 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i was very much in my mark feels so i wrote this spontaneously !! this actually feels short to me idk why but 10k in 2 days ??? im fucking crazy.......... but im free. hope u guys like it <3 

YOU WERE ELEVEN YEARS OLD WHEN YOU FIRST ACKNOWLEDGED MARK LEE’S EXISTENCE.

He was Johnny Suh’s best friend—stuck at the hip since they were preschoolers. You had seen him around the house when you went to play with Johnny’s twin sister, Jia, but you never paid him any attention. At the age of eleven, you and Jia could care less about boys; you just wanted to see who could braid each other’s hair the fastest and see if you could fit into her mom’s evening gowns without her noticing. (Spoiler: you couldn’t.)

Since you lived down the street, all you had to do was walk a few minutes to get to Jia’s house. Mark, on the other hand, always rode his bike. Your mother didn’t allow you to go over on weekdays, so you practically lived at Jia’s house on the weekends. Now, though, it was summer vacation, so you could do whatever you liked. Like it was any other Saturday morning, you walked over to Jia’s in the summer heat.

Today, however, no one answered the door.

You stood on their porch, feeling a little lost. You weren’t too early, were you? Someone always opened the door around this time, but you couldn’t even tell if the lights were on inside.

While you were worrying at your bottom lip, wondering if you should just go back home, Mark rode onto the driveway in his green bicycle. You immediately recognized him as Johnny’s friend, but you felt a little awkward because you had barely interacted with him before. The only time you had a proper conversation with Mark was when Johnny brought you all otter pops and you were overly-enthusiastic about explaining the best way to eat the icy treat.

“I don’t think they’re home,” Mark spoke up after you both stood at the door for a while like lost puppies. “Shoot! I remember; they were going to the zoo today.”

You recalled Jia saying something about that a few days ago. That probably explained the reason why there was no car in the driveway.

“What do we do now?” you asked, feeling a bit defeated.

You didn’t want to go home. You knew that you would just be bored and find yourself rewatching a show that you didn’t even like. Plus, there was something about walking back home shortly after you declared you were going to Jia’s house that felt shameful.

“Uh,” Mark started, rubbing the back of his neck. He uselessly supplied, “I don’t know. We just go home, I guess.”

“I don’t wanna go home.”

“What’re you gonna do then?” he asked, scrunching up his nose at how stubborn you sounded. “Can’t you just hang out with another friend?”

“I don’t know where they live.”

Silence.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but maybe part of you was waiting for him to offer his company. You didn’t know Mark Lee aside from being Johnny’s friend, but you did know a little bit about what they said about him at school. All the sixth grade girls had a crush on him, which was understandable considering Mark was very “first crush” material. Jia told you it was something about how considerate and nice he was to everyone—a trait that most sixth grade boys didn’t seem to have, apparently.

“Do you want a ride home then?” He gestured to his bike. “You’ll have to sit on the back, though.”

“Okay.”

You trusted Mark’s cycling abilities, but you didn’t trust your balance. You were rather scared of bicycles because you didn’t know how to ride one yourself. Naturally, Mark was surprised when you sat on the rack and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I’m a little scared. Jia tried to teach me how to ride a bike before, but I kept falling.”

Mark laughed in response, and you were taken aback. Was he laughing at your vulnerability? You were starting to get the feeling that all boys were the same. Even though everyone talked big about Mark being the sweetest thing ever, he was probably just a carbon copy of Johnny Suh. (You still held a grudge from when Johnny stole your pudding last year.)

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “I’ll go slowly so you don’t fall.”

“Thanks.”

He was being especially careful, and you were thankful for that. Mostly, you were scared that you were going to tip over the bicycle somehow and let the both of you fall. Your mother would definitely get mad at you if she found out that you injured Mark.

It just so happened that your parents were friends with Jia’s family and Mark’s family. Although you never really spoke to Mark much, your mothers called each other nearly every day. If your mother discovered that Mark gave you a ride home and you repaid him by crashing his bike, she would probably invite him inside for dinner.

You didn’t even want to imagine dinner with your parents and Mark Lee. That would’ve probably been the most awkward situation to be thrown into.

So, you steeled your core and dared not to sway from side-to-side. You were going to make it home in one piece without sabotaging Mark’s bike.

Your strategy seemed to work well because you both got to your house safely. You felt invincible just knowing that you were unscathed and you didn’t have to wear a helmet. When you got off the bike, Mark was already turning to leave. Then, he looked back over his shoulder at you and smiled shyly.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, knowing you both would try your luck going to Johnny and Jia’s place again the next day.

You waved to him. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.” He pressed his foot down on the pedal. “That’s what friends are for.”

With that, Mark cycled off, leaving you staring blankly into the distance. You were just replaying what he said, trying to make sense of it.

You guys were friends?

At the age of twelve, you grew a little closer to Mark.

Not close to the point of hanging out regularly, but Mark became your ride to Johnny and Jia’s occasionally. He would often offer you a ride if he stumbled upon you walking to their house. You graciously took his offer each time (partly because you hated being the last one there).

Being a middle schooler was weird, though. You didn’t really want to tell anyone about your random companionship with Mark. You were sure the girls would tease you about it incessantly, but it really wasn’t like that. It was safer if you just pretended like you had no relation to him.

“What color should I paint my nails?” Jia asked from where she was sitting on the floor, inspecting her long nails that she had just smeared with nail polish remover.

Ah, right. She was getting to that age, too, where she cared a lot about fashion and makeup.

A lot of the girls in your class were like that now. You weren’t going to lie and say you weren’t, but it was more of an interest reserved for your Pinterest boards. It wasn’t exactly like you owned any high fashion pieces that you could wear to middle school without getting dress-coded.

“Red,” you decided. “Christmas is coming up, so maybe you should do something that fits the holiday vibe.”

Jia gasped, like she had completely forgotten it was December. “You’re right! God, what would I ever do without you?” She shook her head as she fished for her red nail polish. “By the way, do you think Kim Doyoung from our math class likes you or something? I keep catching him staring at you.”

“What? No way.” Your cheeks heated up, but the thought of someone being romantically interested in you made you feel a little sick. You weren’t sure what to do with that information. “He’s probably just slacking off.”

“Let’s ask Johnny.”

“Huh? No!” you protested, but Jia was already getting up to pull her twin brother from his room.

He looked irritated with his sister as he begrudgingly followed Jia back to her room. Mark was right behind Johnny, as usual, looking awfully curious about whatever was going on. His lips curled into a lopsided smile as he watched Johnny and Jia bicker back and forth.

“You interrupted our game!” Johnny complained.

“I don’t see Mark complaining,” Jia fired back. “Come on, we just had a question for you. You’re friends with Kim Doyoung, right?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“Jia, shut up.” You covered your face with your hands and let out a whine. Your best friend just laughed at your misery.

“Oh?” Johnny smirked. “Does someone have a crush on—”

“No!” you exclaimed, horror all over your face at the mere suggestion. The three of them just laughed at you even more, but you had no idea what was so funny about such a horrifying situation. “I do not have a crush on Doyoung.”

“But we think he has a crush on her,” Jia clarified. “Do you know if he does?”

Johnny shrugged. “We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff.”

“What the hell?”

“Whoa.” Johnny’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Mom! Jia just swo—”

Jia slapped her hand over Johnny’s mouth to shut him up. The fear that flashed in her eyes was unmistakable, and you giggled a little upon seeing how desperate she was to not be told on. Jia had developed a bit of a cursing habit recently. You were surprised every time she did so, but she insisted that saying hell wasn’t as bad as saying fuck.

“Give it a rest!” Jia exclaimed. “I’ve heard you cuss, too, so I’ll just tell Mom the same thing.”

“Fine, fine,” Johnny caved, “but I really don’t know anything about Doyoung liking Y/N, so can Mark and I go back to playing Minecraft?”

Jia was persistent, though. You had to give her some credit for being so proactive about what she wanted to uncover about their friend.

“Mark,” she said, turning to the smaller boy, “do you know anything about who Doyoung likes?”

“Um… not really,” he answered. “We just talk about video games.”

“Ugh!” Frustrated, Jia walked back over to her nail polish station on the floor and plopped back down. “Boys are so boring!”

“We’re going back,” Johnny said. “Come on, Mark.”

You swore that Mark Lee met your eyes for the most peculiar second before he left. You weren’t sure if your eyes were playing tricks on you, but if you had been brave enough to admit it to yourself, you would’ve noticed the tips of his ears turning red.

On your thirteenth birthday, Mark’s present for you made you wonder if he knew you better than even your closest friends.

Your parents threw you quite a large birthday, which was nice, in retrospect. It was something you could look back on when you were an adult, and you could feel happy that your parents put so much effort into making your day feel special.

However, right now, you felt absolutely crappy because Jia couldn’t show up.

Johnny was sent in her place, instead. Your face was void of amusement as her twin brother performed his own glamorous rendition of “Happy Birthday” in Jia’s place. Apparently, she had specifically requested him to sing for you in front of all the parents. Although it was supposed to be humiliating for him, you were feeling the embarrassment instead.

So, halfway into your own birthday party, you retreated to your room. Everyone was busy socializing, so you had some time to wallow in self-pity before you had to go back out to cut your cake.

While you were sulking on your bed, a knock came at your door. You assumed it was one of your parents trying to talk you into coming back out, so you offered a soft “come in.”

It was not your parents. It was Mark.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “It’s your birthday party. Shouldn’t you be celebrating with everyone?”

You hugged your knees to your chest and shook your head. “It doesn’t feel the same without Jia.”

Mark laughed a little. “You’re so stubborn when it comes to her. You were like this when she went to the zoo, too.”

Your cheeks heated up a little from embarrassment. You couldn’t believe Mark remembered that from two years ago. It wasn’t exactly the impression you wanted to leave on him, but only your childish qualities seemed to come out when he was around.

“Why are you here?” you asked him this time.

He paused for a moment, as if he himself forgot why he knocked on your door. Then, Mark’s eyes lit up and he held out a poorly-wrapped present that he had been hiding behind his back. You stifled your smile at the sight of the messy tape job and lopsided ribbon.

He grinned. “I got you a present!”

“Can I open it?”

“If you want—yeah.”

You unwrapped the gift wrap carefully, even though there was no salvaging its remains, and Mark watched you intently. You sat criss-cross on your bed and removed the wrapping until you were holding a photo album in your hands. A picture of you and Jia from when you were nine years old was on the cover, the both of you smiling with missing teeth and popsicle-stained lips.

Your lips parted in surprise as you flipped through the album, biting back a smile as you looked through all the pictures of you and Jia. There were some of Johnny and Mark with you guys sprinkled in there, too.

“Did you make this yourself?” you asked, surprised.

Mark nodded shyly. “I asked our parents for pictures and printed them out,” he said. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “I hope you like—”

“I love it,” you cut him off, still staring at the album. A bright smile crossed your face, and you leaned over to press a chaste kiss to Mark’s cheek. “Thank you, Mark.”

On your thirteenth birthday, you made Mark Lee the color of a tomato.  

You were fourteen years old when you had your first kiss with Mark Lee.

The progression in your relationship with Mark was a bit of a jump from last year, you realized. You weren’t sure if it was because his family was being invited over more or if it was just convenient having so many classes with him, but he ended up hanging out with you in your room multiple days a week. You weren’t sure what to think of it at first, but soon it had become natural, like how it was for you to go over to Jia’s place.

He would often find himself laying on your bed, playing a random game on his phone that he would lose interest in after a few weeks. Two weeks ago, it was Cookie Run, and Mark was determined to get you hooked onto the game for a while. He convinced you to start an account with him, and neither Jia or Johnny could understand when the both of you started discussing the lore of the Cookie Kingdom.

“It’s GingerBrave,” Mark muttered when Johnny’s mother set a plate of cookies for the four to share.

“A lot of GingerBraves,” you replied with a frown. You took a bite of the cookie and sniffled. “He tastes so good.”

Jia stared at the two of you in disbelief. “You guys are such weirdos.”

If you thought middle school was weird, entering high school was even more strange. Everyone’s hormones were on the rise, and you saw couples getting together all around you. Slowly, you noticed conversations with your friend groups go from what anime you were currently watching to what boy you were currently crushing on.

Apparently, Rin Okumura wasn’t an acceptable answer anymore.

It was about halfway through your first year of high school when you felt like you had fallen so far behind. As your friends started actively pursuing the guys they liked, you were just waiting around for something to happen. There was no one that made your heart burst into a thousand pieces, which Jia claimed was the way she felt around Lee Jeno from her biology class. You realized you were absolutely inexperienced when Hwang Yeji announced her new boyfriend to the group.

“So, yeah,” she answered Jimin, who was pestering her for information, “he just asked me out last night, so I guess we’re dating now.”

You blinked. Was it really that easy? All you had to do was just ask someone and see if you could hit it off?

“Have you guys done anything yet?” Jia asked.

“It’s barely been a day!” Yeji exclaimed, but she burst into giggles when she seemed to recall a detail. “But… he did ask me out on a date this weekend, so we might kiss.”

Your table exploded at this. All the girls were giggling and teasing Yeji. Maybe your expectations were set far too high by shoujo anime, but you couldn’t understand how Yeji could fall for someone only a month after her last boyfriend. Your inexperience in the dating realm made you wonder if it was just a concept you’d only be able to grasp once you had experienced it.

“Y/N,” Kim Minjeong drawled, poking your shoulder. “How about you? Any cute guy you’ve had your eyes on?”

“Watch her have the hots for Jia’s brother,” Yoo Jimin teased, causing Jia to choke on her food.

“Ew!” you exclaimed. “Don’t even joke about that, Jimin!”

You shuddered at the thought of dating your best friend’s twin brother. In all fourteen years of your life, you had never indulged that idea—not even once. Not only was Johnny Suh off limits, but you just couldn’t see him as anything other than a (slightly annoying) big brother.

“Wait, then…” Jia started, pausing to clear her throat and point her fork in your direction, “how about Mark?”

“Mark Lee?” Kim Yerim chimed in. “He’s really cute.”

You seized up at the mention of his name. It wasn’t like you disliked Mark (in fact, you liked him a lot more than you did a few years ago), but you were suddenly embarrassed to be mentioned with him in this context. You suspected Jia felt weird about you two being “shipped” by your friends, too. You often felt like she had some expectation that your relationship with both Mark and Johnny was supposed to be platonic forever. Blurring the lines between your friendship meant sabotaging the group dynamic, and that was unacceptable.

You decided to laugh it off. “I can’t see Mark in a romantic way at all. He calls me ‘dude.’ I can’t date a guy whose term of endearment for me is the same one he uses for Johnny Suh.”

Jimin hummed in response. “Fair enough, but I’m still betting you guys are gonna kiss at some point.”

“Jimin!” you whined.

“I totally get that vibe, too.” Yeji had a lazy smirk on her face as she pressed you. “He’s definitely gonna be your first kiss, Y/N.” When she caught onto your exasperation, she added, “Come on! He’s not even that bad!”

You pointed out Jia’s grossed-out expression. “Look—even Jia thinks you’re full of shit.”

“Don’t mind me.” Jia tried to wave it off. “I’ve just known you two for too long, so it feels weird thinking about you guys being mushy with each other.”

“Yeah, see? Not gonna happen.”

“What I’m surprised about is that Y/N hasn’t had her first kiss yet,” Minjeong said.

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. Your first plan was to ignore the observation and continue forking salad into your mouth, but everyone’s attention was now on your innocent self. You were just waiting for someone to make a comment about your “virgin lips.”

“She’s pure,” Jia defended. “No one is allowed to go near Y/N’s virgin lips.”

There we go.

(“Except Mark!” Jimin teased.)

For some reason, it felt strange to be labeled that way in your friend group. It made you feel like you were ten steps behind everyone else—not that it was a competition to check off your experiences or anything, but you just wanted to have your own stories to share sometimes.

Your ringer went off right at that moment, and you nearly jumped when you saw that it was a text from Mark himself. It was like he had some sixth sense that detected people talking behind his back.

mark: hey:) can i come over today lol

you: sure you: actually can i ask u a favor

mark: shoot

you: i’ll tell you when u come over

mark: aw whaaat mark: you can’t leave me hanging like that!

you: sorryy gotta keep u on ur toes for a bit

mark: btw the new boss baby movie’s out mark: wanna watch it with me?

you: bruhh boss baby? LOL

mark: consider for a moment the human baby mark: helpless mark: irrational mark: ruthlessly monopolizing the mother’s teat mark: now mark: imagine this same baby a titan of capitalist industry mark: a baby, yes mark: but also… a boss

you: ?? damn you: im sold!!! you: ur such a weirdo sometimes

mark: but you laughed! didnt you

you: maaaaybe :))

“Earth to Y/N,” Jia called, snapping her fingers in front of your face to get your attention. You snapped out of your trance and stared at her, confused. “The bell rang, so let’s get going.” You nodded and started gathering your belongings to walk with Jia. Before you both left the cafeteria, she smirked and pointed out, “You were smiling down at your phone for a while, you know?”

“W-what?” you spluttered out. “I was? I didn’t even notice.”

Jia raised a brow before she shrugged and linked arms with you. “Anyway, are you excited for Homecoming?”

That was right. The school dance completely slipped your mind (and part of you could blame that on the student council for hardly promoting). Jia had been tossing the idea of asking Jeno back and forth, even though you and all of your friends had already told her she should just go for it. She said she would rather just go alone instead of being rejected.

“Sort of,” you answered. “Are you still asking Jeno?”

Jia scrunched up her nose at the thought. “I feel like the timing isn’t right, so I’d rather just go with you. Unless… you already have a date?”

You laughed. “Me? No way.”

“Hey, anything’s possible.” Jia giggled as she walked ahead of you to file into your classroom. “Even Mark Lee has a date!”

You froze up on the spot.

What?

For the rest of the day, you felt like you were in a daze. You couldn’t think straight in class, and whenever someone told you something, you needed them to repeat it a couple more times for you to fully process what they were saying. It was the same when you got home and saw Mark waiting in front of your driveway.

“We should’ve just walked together,” he said as you approached him.

After you made him repeat his words a few more times, you shrugged in response. Instead of keeping your composure and inviting Mark inside normally, you blurted out the question that had been on your mind all day.

“Are you going with anyone to Homecoming?” you asked, mentally cursing when your voice wavered at the end. You sounded like you were jealous or something, and that made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Yeah.”

Oh. You felt numb.

Mark continued, “Johnny and I are going.”

Oh. You were an idiot.

The flush of relief you felt made you feel like an idiot. You had no reason to be feeling so giddy over Mark not going with anyone to the dance. Maybe it was because he had been your single partner-in-crime for the past year that you weren’t ready for him to leave the nest.

“Sounds fun,” was all you could say in response as you led Mark into your house. You made your way upstairs to your room, already shrugging your backpack off once you got halfway up the stairs. “Jia and I are going together, too.”

“Oh, cool.”

Mark looked like he wanted to say more, but he left it at that.

“Jia said you had a date, so I assumed you asked someone out,” you explained, then raised a brow at Mark, “unless… you asked Johnny as a—”

“Oh my god, you’re insufferable.” Mark let out a petulant whine, burying his face in his hands. “We’re going with the whole friend group! Except Jaehyun ‘cause he’s got a date.”

You laughed and tossed your backpack onto the floor, right beside your desk. Mark did the same and slumped back into your chair. His face was flushed from defending himself before, and you couldn’t help but find it a little adorable.

“What was that favor you were asking for, by the way?” he asked.

You felt hot immediately.

You hadn’t expected him to bring it up again, especially when you spent all of your class time mentally berating yourself for thinking of such a thing. It wasn’t your fault that people kept nagging you about your first kiss, though.

You sat back on your bed, willing yourself to look down at your thighs instead of Mark Lee. The way he was studying your face intently was making you go crazy because he was probably thinking you had some innocent request, but what was eating at your mind could actually tip the scales of your purely platonic friendship.

Yet. there was that flicker of doubt in the back of your mind that this request would actually affect your relationship with Mark. He was such a caring individual that you couldn’t see him distancing himself from you over this.

“Um… well, I just had a little question, but you don’t actually have to do it if you don’t want to,” you started in a small voice. You were quiet for a second, and Mark let out a little hum for you to continue, so you asked, “Could you be my first kiss?”

You knew asking him was letting Jimin be victorious in her claim that Mark would be your first kiss, and while that did put you off a little, you couldn’t think of anyone else you would be comfortable with. You thought of many possibilities of kissing any other guy in your class, and all of them sounded absolutely frightening. The mere image of kissing Lee Donghyuck, the loud class clown in your history class, made you want to crawl in a hole and die.

Plus, this was for practice. That was all it was.

No underlying feelings or anything running under the surface.

When you were brave enough to look up at Mark’s reaction, you were taken aback by how red his face was. His mouth hung open comically, and he was opening and closing it over and over again, completely lost for words.

“You can say no!” you added, wondering if you fucked up.

At that moment, Mark seemed to regain his composure. He stood up and walked over to you, bending down so that you two were eye-level. Your breath was caught in your throat by his sudden display of boldness; you didn’t expect a move like this from Mark Lee.

“Okay, let’s do it,” he said, dark eyes boring into yours, “but don’t you want your first kiss to be with someone special?”

You bit your lip. “I just want it to be with someone I’m comfortable with.” You hesitated a little when he nodded. “Are you sure about this?” you asked, and even though you didn’t have any feelings for Mark, your heart was going crazy at the thought of kissing him.

This was going to be your first kiss. You could kiss dozens of other guys after this, but you would forever have Mark Lee as the boy who was your first kiss.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s just a kiss, right?”

“Right.”

You glanced at Mark’s lips. They looked soft, and you wondered how they’d feel against yours. Well, you supposed you were going to find out soon, but that didn’t help calm your nerves at all. Oddly enough, you hoped Mark was a bad kisser because you didn’t know what you would do if you felt fireworks or butterflies.

You met Mark’s eyes shyly and then closed them when he leaned in, and you met him halfway, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

“How was that?” Mark asked when he pulled back. You almost let it go undetected with how dim the lights were, but you picked up on the faintest of blushes crossing his cheeks.

“Skin,” you answered. When Mark snickered, you clarified, “It just felt like skin against skin.”

“Did we do it wrong then?”

“I think it’s just because I don’t like you in that way,” you answered.

He laughed at this before straightening back up and clapping his hands once. “Well, I’m honored to take your first kiss, at the very least.”

There was one lie you let slip, though.

The kiss didn’t just feel like skin against skin—well, it did, but you happened to like it a lot more than you had anticipated. You were shocked by the little zing that traveled down your spine when Mark’s lips moved against yours. There was no slobber, no awkwardness, and certainly no repulse from your end.

It felt nice. In fact, you’d do it again, if you could.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Mark said, and when you looked at him, humming quizzically, he smirked. You weren’t sure why, but your heart was thundering in your chest. “That was my first kiss, too.”

You realized Mark Lee was extremely popular at the age of fifteen. A little too popular for your liking.

This revelation hit you when you heard your AP World History project group discussing the ranking of cute guys in your grade. Mark Lee seemed to be vying for either first or second with Lee Taeyong, and you wondered if he had been an unexpected dark horse this entire time.

“I’m telling you, Mark has potential!” Lia gushed. “He’s cute right now, but I guarantee he’s gonna have the biggest glow-up after we graduate.”

“What do you think, Y/N? You’re friends with him, right?” Jimin asked.

You shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t really think about him in that way. I’ve known him for too long, you know?”

Jimin hummed. “I guess it’s weird if you’ve watched him grow up, so I get that,” she said before letting a giggle slip. “I still think he’s gonna be your first kiss, though.”

“He was,” you confirmed.

“What?!” Lia exclaimed.

You weren’t sure if they were shocked or impressed (or both), but both Jimin and Lia stared at you, completely flabbergasted. You shrunk back when you noticed Jia was acting like she wasn’t bothered. You expected her to explode at the news, but her disinterested reaction made you feel worse about sharing.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal and it didn’t really mean anything,” you said. “That’s why I never said anything about it.”

Jimin’s chest puffed up in triumph. “God, I’m a genius, aren’t I?”

“Look what you did, Y/N.” Lia tutted. “This is gonna get to Jimin’s head now.”

You laughed alongside them, but part of you felt guilty for not telling Jia before. You weren’t sure if it was just you overthinking, but there was clear tension for the rest of the day between you two.

A week went by, and Jia was still pretending like nothing happened.

That was, until she brought up your kiss while you were studying for the PSAT at her house over the weekend. Jia and Johnny attended private tutoring together, so you were surprised she had the energy to study separately with you, too. She took it very seriously—even letting you borrow about ten workbooks so that you could practice on your own time.

“So, you and Mark kissed, huh?” she asked, twirling her pencil between her fingers.

You choked at the mention, eyes wide as you whipped your head around to make sure the coast was clear. You had to play it safe when Mark could’ve been around the house at any given moment. He and Johnny normally cooped themselves up in the makeshift “man cave” that was actually the garage.

Jia laughed at your reaction. “Don’t worry. Johnny and Mark went camping with the others this weekend. That guy just does whatever he wants now that he has his license. What a jerk; he doesn’t even give me a ride to school.”

You smiled a little. Johnny had been boasting about being the first to get a car for a while, and everyone knew he was going to get his license first because he was a little older and had been the most prepared for it. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve suspected that he was driving illegally before he even took lessons.

But, first things first: back to the kiss.

“Yeah, we kissed,” you admitted, cheeks heating up yet again. “It was last year in my room.”

“In your room?” she pressed, a hint of a smirk ghosting her lips. “Y/N, you dirty little—”

“No, it wasn’t like that!” you exclaimed. “It was… gentle. We barely even touched!”

Jia hummed. “Well, was it good at least?”

There was no point in hiding anything from Jia, but you were too embarrassed to admit that you liked kissing Mark Lee. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to her, though, so you just stuffed your face into your SAT workbook.

“What are you doing?” Jia asked.

Voice muffled, you replied, “Absorbing information.”

“Tell me about your kiss!”

“It’s embarrassing! You didn’t even ask me about it for a week after you found out!”

“Well, I figured you’d tell me at your own pace, considering you didn’t talk about it for a year.”

You pouted. “It’s just—I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird,” Jia tried. “If you don’t tell me, I’m just going to come to the reasonable conclusion that he had food in his mouth while you were making out.”

“Gross!” you complained. “And we did not make out, we just kissed once.” You raised your head to look at her, finally saying, “It was… pretty nice, I guess.”

Jia bit back a smile and huffed. “I always knew you two were gonna get together.”

“We’re not!”

When you turned sixteen, Mark started making your heart flutter.

You weren’t sure where exactly it started. Perhaps it was the fact that he started growing into his features and maturing, but you started to see him in a new light. It was a bit frustrating, really. Whenever you caught sight of him, he just looked like he was glowing.

Other girls took notice of this, too, and maybe that was why you were ticked off.

Mark was completely dense, though, so he never talked about other girls around you. You wondered if he even realized how much attention he got, but you also gagged at the thought of the attention getting to his head.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but Mark Lee was your little treasure. You couldn’t imagine him having a friend that he was closer to than yourself (other than Johnny, of course). You two had gotten so close that he became the person you thought of whenever you found a funny meme; the person you called whenever you had something to rant about; the person you confided in whenever you needed advice.

Of course, you were extremely close with Jia, and she could fill the gaps that Mark would leave if he found someone else. The problem was just that Mark Lee had too big of an impact on your life. He took up so much space that you weren’t sure what to do with all the emptiness if he left.

mark: hey mark: you should join my discord server

you: LOL what?? you have a discord server?

mark: im trying to become a streamer

you: no way you: okay i’ll support you: are you streaming rn?

mark: i’ll let you watch me game in vc mark: but only you

you: wowww i feel special

mark: https://discord.gg/mrklee

you: omg the link’s customized too you: i'm friends with a celebrity

mark: hahaha nahhh

You clicked on the link to join Mark’s server, as per his request. The impressive amount of members made you want to start teasing him for not inviting you sooner. When you entered the main chat, though, Mark was already redirecting you to the voice channel.

mark: yooo y/n go to #stream

y/n: ooookay

johnny: 2/2 vc ???? romantic ;)

mark: stfu johnny

y/n: ooh johnny’s here too

johnny: what’s up

mark: dude you’re barely active here

johnny: yeah lol i only got on to make fun of you

You giggled at their back-and-forth and joined the voice channel. Mark was already in there, humming to himself while scrolling through his Steam account to see what game he wanted to play. You two never called over Discord, but for some reason, it felt so much more intimidating than a regular phone call. Part of it had to do with the fact that he turned on his camera, so you could see him with his messy hair and glasses.

“Oh, you’re here,” he greeted in a huskier voice than usual. You wondered if his voice was so low because he was sleepy, but it was relaxing. “I kind of wanted to play Undertale.”

“Mm… I’ll watch whatever you play,” you replied, clicking on the “join stream” button. You turned on your camera, too, and Mark chuckled at the sight of you.

“You tired?” he asked, noting how your blanket was up to your nose as you laid in bed.

“A little,” you mumbled. “You do realize it’s past midnight, right?”

“That means the night’s still young,” Mark replied with a grin. “I’ll stay on call, though, if you fall asleep.”

You giggled. “Like a sleepover.”

“Exactly.” Mark ran his hand through his hair. “You know I got a car recently?”

“You did? I haven’t even gotten my license yet.”

“You’re hella slow.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, trying to suppress your giggles because you didn’t want to wake your parents up. Actually, you thought it would be worse if they caught you talking to Mark past midnight. When he launched Undertale, you said, “I’ve never seen someone play this game before.”

“I’m gonna use your name, then,” he said before entering your name for the main character.

You watched Mark play for a while, but you were mostly just listening to his voice and watching his reactions to the game. (That didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy watching the gameplay, though. You found the storyline very interesting, and you expressed that to Mark, who looked proud that he was able to get you hooked on a video game.)

Eventually, your eyelids started feeling heavy, and you were mumbling your responses to Mark. Just watching him made you so sleepy, especially when he was wearing that gray sweater that made him look so comfortable and warm. You were getting to a level of tiredness where you couldn’t even think proper thoughts or formulate coherent sentences.

When you said something about a gopher at a supermarket, Mark started laughing at you.

“You should sleep, Y/N,” he suggested.

“I don’t wanna,” you mumbled. “I wanna stay on call… and watch you play.”

“You sound really tired. I can always play tomorrow.”

You whined. “I’m not leaving. I feel so warm and comfy in bed, and your voice is really nice… your sweater looks nice, too. I’m gonna steal it one day, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

“Oh?” Mark smiled. “Are you now?”

If you still had your wits about you, this situation wouldn’t even be unraveling before you. It was like you couldn’t even control the word vomit spilling from your mouth, and even though you were absolutely embarrassed, it was impossible to defend yourself when you were falling asleep so fast. Before you knew it, you were mumbling nonsense as you lulled yourself to sleep.

Just before the rest of the world slipped away from you, Mark Lee’s laugh and voice rang in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

It had been a few days, and you were still reeling from the humiliation during the Discord call you had with Mark.

“God,” you mumbled, “it was so weird, Jia. I was saying the stupidest shit when we were in the voice channel.”

“How weird is ‘weird'?’” she asked.

You cringed before you explained, “I told him I was gonna steal his sweater.”

She guffawed. “That’s something a girlfriend would say, Y/N.”

“I know!”

It was safe to say that you couldn’t confide in anyone else about this situation. It wasn’t like Mark was the one who was saying anything borderline flirtatious that night; it was all you, and that felt worse. Thankfully, though, your friend didn’t bring up anything about the night to embarrass you.

The one time he did, though, was when you asked Mark if he wanted to go to the pumpkin patch with you.

None of your other friends were free. You thought it would be a good opportunity to take pictures together, especially since Jimin had been complaining about the whole group not having pictures together. However, the day you wanted to go to the pumpkin patch, Jia was out of town, Jimin was down with a fever, and Minjeong was at her grandmother’s house. Everyone decided to reschedule the group hanging out together.

You really wanted a pumpkin, though, so Mark wound up picking you up from your house in the evening. He was fiddling with his phone when you walked up to the passenger’s side door, and you could tell he was itching for you to compliment his new Toyota Camry.

“Nice car,” you decided to say, and his smile got brighter. It was endearing, to say the least. “Definitely an upgrade from your bike.”

Mark decided to reciprocate, but nothing could have prepared you for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

“Cute outfit.”

You were stupid. You were absolutely stupid because you spent the entire car ride thinking about those two words.

That, and the way Mark drove with one hand on the steering wheel.

When you both reached the pumpkin patch, you were dumbfounded when there was absolutely no one there. Mark gave you a dirty look when he pulled up to the front, leaning back in his seat and sighing.

“Y/N, did you actually check if they were open today?” he asked slowly.

“I-I mean… they were open on this day last year!” you defended. “When I mentioned going in the groupchat, no one even said anything about the pumpkin patch not being open yet. Actually… they’re all as stupid as I am, so I guess that makes sense.” Mark groaned, and you normally would’ve just laughed such a situation off, but you were feeling unusually sensitive. “I’m really sorry.”

Shocked by how upset you sounded, Mark straightened up and looked at you. “Hey, it’s not that big of a deal.” He reached over to ruffle your hair. “We can just get ice cream or something.”

You were frowning, but the mention of ice cream perked you right up. You nodded quickly, rubbing your arms as you sat back.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Huh?”

Before you could confirm or deny, Mark pulled off his sweater. You bit back a smile as you watched him struggle in the middle of the process, but you were flustered again when he handed it to you. You let it lay on your lap for a moment before Mark told you to wear it.

“You said you were gonna steal my sweater,” he reminded with a smirk, “so there you go.”

You wore his stupid sweater while you did your best to ignore your equally stupid heart doing backflips.

At the age of seventeen, you went to your first high school party.

It felt a bit silly that you were just going to your first party in your senior year of high school, and you felt like the experience was overdue. Jia told you that it was never too late to start checking stuff off your bucket list, and you might as well get started before you were going to graduate.

Jia had invited you plenty of times in the past, and even Johnny had tried to convince you to show up to some, but you had always refused. In the past, you were more wary of what your parents would think about you coming home late. Now that you had a car, though, you felt more comfortable going out on your own. There was more leniency from your parent’s side, too.

Lee Taeyong was throwing the party this time, and everyone was going since he was the most popular guy at school. Plus, his house was huge and Jia gave his parties excellent ratings. It was rumored that there was a 66.67% chance of the police showing up to shut it down, and apparently that was a good thing.

Jia was stoked to take you to a party—even more so when Na Jaemin from AP Chemistry offered to drive you two. He was planning to take Renjun, Jeno and Chenle, but Chenle flaked at the last minute because he got floor tickets to a basketball game. So, Jaemin now had two open seats in his car, and Jia would never turn down an offer to spend time with Jeno.

When you got a text from Jaemin later that night, saying he was five minutes away from Jia’s place, you were panicking.

“Jia, did you die in that bathroom?” you called, knocking on the door. “Jaemin’s gonna be here in five!”

The door flew open not a second after, causing you to flinch and step back. Your best friend held up a bottle of Pink Whitney, a mischievous grin crossing her face. You swallowed thickly, bracing yourself for what was about to happen.

The dreaded pregame.

“Did you get that from your parents?” you asked, recalling the dinner parties where they’d pull out wine bottles to share with the other parents.

She shook her head. “You know my senior friend who graduated? Baekhyun?” You nodded, remembering the cute senior that Jia was obsessed with for a while. “I asked him to get me some. It was just, like, ten dollars,” she said. “Can’t let my parents find out, though, so I hid it under the sink.”

“He’s still around? Shouldn’t he be in college?” you asked, snickering as Jia poured way more than a shot into her cup. “You’re gonna kill us before we even get to the party, Jia.”

“We’ll live, and Jaemin’s driving so it’s fine!” With that, she handed you your cup, and you winced at how much she had poured into the cup.

jaemin: here

“Wait, Jia, he’s already here,” you said.

“Drink up, drink up,” she urged. “Quickly.”

In the heat of the moment, you pinched your nose and downed the bitter alcohol in one go, your best friend following suit. There was definitely more than one shot in that cup, and you decided you weren’t going to let Jia pour the shots by herself ever again. She made fun of you for plugging your nose, but you weren’t sure if you could drink it if you smelled it, too. The taste was already overwhelming enough for you.

Afterward, you both got into the back of Jaemin’s car while you kept complaining about why you had to be in the middle seat. When you saw Mark where Renjun was supposed to be, you froze up.

He raised his brows. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Renjun?” you asked. You checked the front seat, but Jeno was queuing up songs on the aux. “Oh, hi, Jeno.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He craned his neck to grin at Jia. “You look pretty.”

“Renjun said he has to grind his essay out tonight,” Mark said, “so I took his place in Jaemin’s car because I don’t trust Hyuck’s driving, even if he is sober.”

You felt like you were interrupting something.

You slid into the middle seat, and your body was already feeling hot. Your head was spinning a little, and you barely noticed Jaemin starting the car.

“Are you drunk already?” Mark asked, and you shook your head, mumbling something incoherent. “What’d you even drink?” When you hardly responded, he looked over at Jia. “Did you pour her shot? She’s done for.”

“You’re supposed to pour it to the first line on those solo cups, Jia,” Jaemin scolded. “At this point, you’re better off waterfalling it.”

“Y/N,” Mark murmured, and you let your head drop onto his shoulder at the mere call of your name. “Whoa, you good?”

You nodded. “Just gonna lie down for a little,” you mumbled, slurring your words.

The rest of the car ride was a blur, and you were completely zoned out while Jaemin started talking about how he blacked out at Taeyong’s last party. You picked up on some bits of info here and there, like Jaemin being invited for dinner by Taeyong’s mother when she found him passed out by the pool.

When he parked on the street, Mark was the one who helped you out of the car, holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn’t fall. You were so preoccupied with trying to walk straight that you ignored Jia giggling at you and Mark together.

“Do you need help?” Mark asked. “I can get you some water.”

Thankfully, though, you felt better than you did in the car. You supposed the initial wave of nausea was all you needed to get over your pregame shots. You politely rejected Mark’s offer, but you still allowed him to guide you into Taeyong’s house, guiding you with one hand on your waist so he didn’t lose you in the crowd.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck called from the counter. His eyes flitted to Mark’s hand on your waist, and his smirk grew.

Everyone started crowding the backyard, so you had more space to move around in the house and be spotted by tiring individuals (read: Donghyuck).

“You’re up to something,” you observed. “I see it in your eyes, Hyuck.”

“I was gonna dare you to match my shots tonight,” Hyuck said, “unless you’re gonna pussy out.”

Mark frowned. “Hyuck, she’s already dru—”

“I’ll do it,” you announced, and Donghyuck cheered to your declaration. You were sure it was a stupid idea because any rational thought in your head clouded over. Nevertheless, you took the red solo cup with vodka that Donghyuck handed you. “Already?”

“A celebratory shot,” he explained, ignoring Mark’s death glare and holding his cup out for a moment to clink against yours. “Here’s to dying of alcohol poisoning tonight!”

“Cheers,” you said, and you downed the shot. The fuzzy feeling came back, and you leaned back against Mark.

Donghyuck chuckled. “She’s so lightweight.”

Mark stroked your hair gently before trying to guide you to the couch. “I’m gonna find some water, okay? Stay here.”

“I don’t think I’m physically capable of moving right now, but okay.”

Shortly after he left, Mark returned with a glass of water. He sat next to you and placed his hand on the small of your back to get you to sit up. Once you did, he held the cup to your lips and had you drink slowly. It was like you were being pampered by your boyfriend.

“Mark,” you started once you finished drinking your water, “why do you keep taking care of me? You should go have fun, too.”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I can’t just leave you like this.”

“I won’t be mad if you do,” you said. “I mean, you do realize how suspicious you look, right?”

Not again. You weren’t able to filter the words coming out of your mouth right now, and you were terrified that you were going to let something idiotic slip.

“Suspicious?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“Like… we look like a couple,” you mumbled. “You act like my boyfriend.”

For a moment, you were sure that Mark would back off immediately. You suspected that your comment would mess with his head, making him rethink everything he had been doing or saying. You were afraid that he would start putting up a boundary between you two, daring not to cross it for your sake.

Instead, though, the look on his face was the complete opposite of what you expected. There was a fire in his eyes, and he looked a little proud of himself once he processed what you said. It was like he had been waiting for you to realize that this whole time.

“Do you hate people thinking we’re dating?” he asked.

You faltered. “Uh… no? Isn’t it weird, though?”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s weird,” Mark replied. You bit your lip and tried to think about it from another perspective, like you were trying to grasp how to perceive your relationship with Mark in a more platonic way. “Besides, they’re half-right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have had a crush on you since, like, forever,” he said casually, like he was stating how many centimeters were in an inch, “so, I guess it looks weird for good reason.”

You weren’t sure if Mark Lee had realized that he just completely flipped your world upside-down.

For the rest of that night, you were unable to think about anything but Mark’s words. He didn’t elaborate on it afterward because Jaemin started dragging him around, and then he was taking care of you when you were throwing up in one of the toilets. You also happened to stumble into the bathroom that Jia and Jeno were making out in, but nothing was going to stop you from puking your guts out into the toilet. As Mark held your hair back and rubbed your back, you were in utter amazement at how he could keep his feelings at bay while being an incredible friend.

So, the night went by without further elaboration on his sudden confession.

You thought it would bury itself under the sand so that you and Mark could go back to being friends. However, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go back to how things were now that this was brought to your attention.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored all the signs. There was that little feeling in the back of your head that screamed at you for being an idiot whenever Mark said or did something odd. However, you always tried to write it off as a kind gesture because you two were childhood friends.

You were starting to realize that part of you never wanted Mark to confess because you were scared of accepting your own feelings for him. You would rather lie to yourself over and over again to keep up the illusion of a friendship you had with him.

You were going to have to do so sooner or later, though, because you received a call from him the day after the party in the middle of the day. You had already called Jia that morning and told her everything that happened. Although she was hungover and barely recalled Mark even being at the party, Jia offered solid advice after interrogating you with several questions as to whether you liked him back or not.

(Later, Jia seemed to recollect memories from the night—ones that you forgot completely. Apparently, your feet were killing you toward the end, and Mark gave you a piggyback ride to the car. He even took off his jacket and put it over your shoulders because you kept complaining about how cold it was. Jia proceeded to explain how Mark nearly tripped over his feet and fell forward because you kissed the back of his neck to thank him.)

You weren’t sure what kept you from admitting your feelings. For some reason, even though the answer was clear in your head, the words “I don’t know” kept leaving your mouth.

“Hey,” Mark greeted you when you picked up. “I’m actually outside. Can I come in?”

You were surprised, but you agreed, “Yeah, just ring the doorbell. I’d come open it, but I’m too lazy to get out of bed.”

“Hangover that bad, huh?” he asked, and right on cue, the doorbell went off. You heard your mother rushing to open it, and Mark mumbled a “see you” before he hung up to greet your mom. When he walked upstairs, he held out a plastic bag to you. “I wasn’t sure what you were craving, so I just bought ice cream.”

“You’re kidding.” You took the bag and took the small carton of Ben & Jerry’s cookies and cream ice cream. You pouted a little. “Mark, you didn’t have to.”

He sat on the edge of your bed and shrugged. “I mean, you know why I did.”

You felt flustered. You didn’t expect him to bring it up again so suddenly, especially since you hadn’t mentioned it yet. You thought he would have waited to make sure you didn’t forget his confession after all the drinks you had last night, but Mark was going in for the kill.

“I’m not gonna pressure you into answering until you’re ready,” he said, “but I just want you to know that I’ve been serious about my feelings for a while. I didn’t just confess to you because I wanted to throw it out there. I’ve had a crush on you since we were, like, twelve.”

Oddly enough, you felt like your word vomit was worsening right now rather than when you were drunk last night. You had just suppressed so many feelings that they all came out at once. Maybe, all these years, you just weren’t ready to be loved. Maybe you were clinging to loneliness because that was more comforting at the time.

Now that your feelings were laying bare in front of Mark, though, you felt like it was high time that you opened up to him.  

“I never considered us dating for real, if I’m gonna be honest,” you said. “We’ve been friends for so long that I thought you were just being nice to me, or that we were so close that you just treated me nicer than other people. I know that sounds really stupid of me, but… I really liked being the only girl you were the closest to, and I don’t think I would’ve been able to stand seeing you with someone else.

“I felt really stupid for the longest time. My heart kept racing when I thought of you, and I kept overthinking every little thing. I kept lying to everyone that I didn’t feel anything or care about whether we got together or not, and I played off every single time I felt something for you. I don’t know why I couldn’t just put what I wanted first for once, but I was so afraid that I was overanalyzing your kindness for something more. I would choose being heartbroken over losing our friendship any day.

“I thought a lot about it last night and today, but I wanna try accepting my feelings,” you finished. “If we’re bound to be something, then why not start now, you know?”

For a second, you thought you had scared Mark off with your entire rant. He was just staring at you with his mouth hung open, and you were wondering if you still had time to knock him out cold so that he could forget everything you dumped on him.

Before you knew it, Mark was dipping his head to press his lips against yours. You were so stunned that you didn’t reciprocate for a moment until you felt him smile against your mouth. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around your neck and pulled him in closer.

Mark was more confident this time, more aggressive than the first time you had kissed him on this very bed. His hands were flat against your sides, sliding up and down in soothing motions. This time, however, the heat in your cheeks was accompanied by butterflies in your stomach and a show of fireworks when you closed your eyes. Your heart was beating erratically and you watched Mark’s Adam’s apple bob when he pulled away.

“I lied back then, too,” you blurted out.

“Huh? When?” he asked.

“When we kissed for the first time here,” you started, “I lied about not feeling anything; I was actually going crazy on the inside.”

Mark smirked at this, and you weren’t sure the butterflies couldn’t get worse until you saw that look on his face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he said, cradling your cheek with his hand. “By the way, I’d like to try dating, too, so will you be my girlfriend?”

You smiled, and for the first time in six years, it had never been easier to say, “Yes.”

“What the hell?” Johnny gawked at the sight of you and Mark holding hands. “You guys are actually dating? Holy shit, I thought Mark was gonna get rejected sooner or later.”

You and Mark had officially been dating for a few weeks now. It wasn’t like you were keeping it on the down-low or anything, so you were rather surprised that Johnny was just finding out. Either he was extremely slow or men really talked about nothing but video games and cars.

“You’re a terrible friend, Johnny,” Jia told her twin brother. “Anyway, I think you two are cute.”

Mark squeezed your hand a little. “Thanks, Jia.”

“But you two better keep it PG in this household,” Jia continued. “Keep your couple activities away from the Suhs.”

Your cheeks heated up at her words, and you tried to change topics by tossing the remote to your best friend. “Can you pick a movie already? This conversation is making me gag.”

Mark laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head while Johnny and Jia were distracted with the movie selection. Neither of you were a big fan of PDA, but sneaking in moments like these made it all the more special. And, even though your relationship with Mark was far more serious now, you knew that spending your days at Johnny and Jia’s house would never cease.

After all, the Suh household was where it all started.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this fic was genuinely so random like,, i just had this strong inclination to write mark fluff out of nowhere, and it was supposed to be around 5k but then it got to this....... i genuinely thought it was pretty short so im wondering how it would’ve turned out if i spent more than two days on it :o but i really love soft boy mark !!! he’s just too cute ♡ anyways i hope you guys enjoyed this and thank you so much for making it to the end :D 

TAG LIST ▸ @leeknowsredeyeliner​​ @wownajaemin​​ @geniejunn​​ @huangberryyy​​ @halbae​​ @sehunniepot​​ @jjaeyoonoh​​ @subhyuck​​ @itskkung​​ @channiedani​​ @jaemboi64​​ @otchae​​ @n0hyuck​​ @hyuckinx​​ @domhyuckie​​ @justhereforimagines​​ @daegalfangirl​​ @soobin-chois​​ @lmkworld​​ @ily-cuz-i​​

CAN’T TAG ▸ @irrealitys @lilacboba 

[dreamingxo]

POV; your teacher recommends you a new tutor and you couldn’t be happier

[angelicmark]

sweet loving (m)

pairing: college!mark x college!reader

genre: fluff, smut, angst, lovers!au

warnings: cursing, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), love making, dry humping, sexual themes, a whole lot of fluff please be warned lmao

wc: 8.1k

summary: being a total opposite from mark, you never imagined you would be able to last a whole year with him. until mark proves you wrong, and you both fall sweetly in love.

oct. 2; day 37

you look at mark, your eyes trailing all over him and his face. he was handsome, and you would sometimes wonder why he even asked you out just barely over a month ago. the relationship was still fresh, and the two of you were still getting to know each other. it was a nice feeling, and you actually quite enjoyed being around him. he was cute, the way he would laugh at almost anything and sometimes slap his knee when he did laugh. it was endearing, you found him endearing.

“you okay?” he asks when he catches you staring for too long, going to take a bite out of his muffin. the two of you were at his apartment, eating at the breakfast bar. it was a peaceful morning, and also the first time spending the night together as boyfriend and girlfriend, as an official couple. you were nervous at first, but as the night unveiled, you were more at ease with him.

“yeah, just thinking,” you softly smile at him, taking a bite out of your cereal. you were a bit on the quieter side while he was more outgoing and courageous. you wouldn’t call yourself a nerd, just dedicated and knowing what you wanted in life. not that mark wasn’t, he was just less uptight about his studying, not in the slightest worried when he got a couple failed grades here and there.

“what about?” he takes a sip of his drink, looking at you with big curious eyes. you were both complete opposites, now that you think about it. and you wondered if he even noticed that himself.

you adjust in your seat, looking at him with articulate eyes, “i don’t know,” you breathe, slightly feeling stressed, “i’m just not sure how this even works, to be honest. i’ve never exactly had a serious relationship, and we’re actually really different. have you noticed that?”

he swallows, his demeanor calm while you were still fidgeting in your seat, “well, yeah, i think it’s a bit hard to miss,” he chuckles, “but i don’t think we should worry about it too much. i like you, there’s something about you and your personality that makes me want to be better. i think that’s good, at least.”

you feel as if he knocked the wind right out of you, and it almost felt refreshing being around him. you nod your head, “and you make me feel good. like, better about myself and life in general. it’s less stressful with you around.”

he smiles, “see?” he can’t help from leaning in to give you a soft kiss, looking at you with bright optimistic eyes, “there we go.”

you smile back, unable to give in to his cute gestures, “thank you, for putting me at ease. it’s a bit hard to do that.”

he kisses you again, a lot slower and more reassuring, “always.”

oct. 31; day 66

“it’s halloween, baby!” mark cheers, looking at you as he stands there in his spider-man costume. you can’t help the laugh that escapes passed your lips, looking at the way he starts to imitate spider-man’s webs.

you stroll towards him, walking right to him and he can’t help the way his eyes travel all along your figure. you were only just a cat this year, but you were wearing a tightly fitted black dress and the cat ears were really adding to the outfit. you had high-rise boots reaching just above your knees, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking at your legs, seeing the way everything wrapped around you like a glove. you were so beautiful, he decided. really beautiful.

he swallows, “you look good, really good.” his eyes ate you up hungrily, and you caught the way his eyes darkened just a bit.

you avoid eyes for a few, before looking back at him with a shy look, “so do you, spidey.” you kiss him, and his hands were quick to grasp onto you. he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, not with you walking around like that.

“thanks,” he breathes out when you pull away, looking at your lips like he was about to chase after them again. you could feel your body heating up under his gaze, and you truly did like the feeling he gave you. two months does a lot to a relationship, you think to yourself.

you look at him, his hands still on your waist and holding you incredibly close to him, “you ready to go?”

he nods, taking your hand and finally pulling away. he was close to just saying fuck the party and staying home with you all night long. he so desperately wanted to, but he spent days just trying to convince you to even go with him. he couldn’t let all that begging go to waste. plus, a part of him wanted to let everyone know just who you belonged to. you were his, and his ego was inflated the whole entire night over that thought.

“this is jaehyun,” mark introduces, and he sees the jaehyun smiles at you with bright eyes, “and this is johnny.” the boys were staring at you with pretty smiles, jaehyun being a bit bolder in kissing the back of your hand. your eyes went wide, watching as mark hissed at jaehyun, “back off.”

jaehyun laughs, backing away from you, “i’m not interested, mark. she’s yours, i’m not a woman stealer.”

mark couldn’t help but feel insecure, in a way. jaehyun had killer dimples, and a cute smile. mark felt basic compared to him. but the moment he feels a small, soft hand on his shoulder, he could feel his body starting to loosen up again. mark wasn’t used to feeling jealous or possessive, so when he saw the way jaehyun kissed your hand, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with these kinds of feelings. but, as his eyes travel to your own, he feels like the weight of the world had been lifted. you were such a calming soul, always so gentle when around him. it was charming, and mark liked that about you.

“sorry,” he sighed, looking at you wide apologetic eyes.

you shake your head, smiling at him, “if my friends were to ever flirt with you, i might have gone crazy. you’re a lot better than me,” you laugh.

he can’t help the smile that reaches his face, “good think i’d never leave you, then.” he places an arm around your shoulder.

you snuggle closer to him, the night turning for the better, “me neither.”

the rest of the night was just soft, loving kisses. the two of you exhausted by the time you made it back to mark’s apartment, cuddling so incredibly close to each other. you were starting to get more and more comfortable around mark, and a part of you was terrified. you were scared you would get too attached, and be left heartbroken. but, as the two of you doze off, holding each other as the two of you start to fall in love together, you felt like it would be worth it.

mark was so worth it.

nov. 29; day 95

thanksgiving holiday was good. you both went home to your parents, and your family was unable to stop talking about this marvelous mark you had. they wished to one day meet him, but you decided it was a bit early to introduce each other to your families. your three months together was spent over the phone, celebrating and sending air kisses with plenty of giggles and wishing the two of you were together. it was always nice talking to mark, but you missed him. you missed being around him in real life, and being able to hold him. a week was way too long without him.

“mark!” you bang on his apartment door, excited to finally see him after all this time. you had arrived home just a few hours later than him, and he waited patiently for you, well, as patiently as he could. he was just as anxious as you, although.

he swings the door open, catching sight of your bright eyes. you jump in his arms, unable to contain your excitement. you were so happy to finally be in his arms again. being around family is always nice, but you missed your boyfriend. you missed kissing him, holding him, being around him. as he lets you in and closes the door with his foot, you kiss him. and he melts into you, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. he missed this, he really missed this.

“missed you,” he lets out between kisses, his voice gravely.

you hum back, your arms reach up and you drag your fingers through his scalp, “missed you, too.”

the two of you are unable to stop kissing, to stop touching each other. it was amazing just how much the two of you could miss each other. he drags you to the couch, expecting you to sit beside him. but, to his surprise, you jump in his lap and continue kissing him like that. it felt so good having you so close, he could feel his heart tightening at the thought of you becoming more and more comfortable around him. it had only been three months together, and he could easily feel himself falling in love with you. it was hard to say you didn’t feel the same way, because you know you did. it was so hard not to love mark.

you pull back for air, and he’s already trailing his kisses down your neck. you can’t help the noises that escape you, your hands clawing through his hair. he loved the pressure your nails put on his scalp, and he couldn’t help from groaning and biting down onto your neck. you let out a small gasp, and he tugs you closer to his chest. the both of you were breathing heavily when he pulls back to look at you directly in the eyes. your body felt like it was burning, and you knew he could feel the heat because his hands trailed up your shirt on your hips. his hands were cold against your hot skin, and you were unsure if you could wait any longer for him to finally touch you.

“mark,” you say, making direct eye contact as you both watch one another’s every move, “do- do you want to...” you trail off, hoping he got the message. you felt embarrassed, avoiding his eyes for a minute before looking back at him again. he had a goofy nervous smile on his face.

“i would love to,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. he was stealing the air right out of your lungs, you felt like you were drowning in an ocean of mark. and it was so intoxicating. everything about mark was intoxicating, so captivating you were afraid of losing yourself to him. but, as the two of you ended up tangled in his sheets by the end of the night, you think to yourself that maybe it would be worth it. he was such a sweet, kind soul. he thought of you and you only, your hands intertwined the whole entire time. it felt like you were dreaming, and he had to bring you back to reality with each kiss.

mark was starting to feel like home.

dec. 31; day 127

you were expecting mark to want to go out on new year’s, even offering to go with him if he wanted. but he ended up smiling and shaking his head no, claiming he would like to spend this moment alone with you, and you only. it made your heart flutter, and you began to wonder what went through that cute boy’s head sometimes.

“alright,” he passes you non-alcoholic champagne, and you let out a little chuckle as he plops down beside you on the couch.

“why non-alcoholic?” you laugh, and he pouts a bit before seeing your smile and perking right back up. your smile was too contagious to not smile back.

“it was all they had at the store,” he mumbles, “and i didn’t feel like driving across town for real champagne. truly wasn’t worth it,” he shakes his head.

you nod back, kissing his cheek, “thank you.”

he looks at you, his cheeks starting to heat up as he nods back, “of course, baby.”

you smile softly at the name, every time it fell from his lips, it sounded so cute. and you could never stop the smile that would form. he seemed to notice, because he leaned over and kissed you shortly. when he pulled back from the soft kiss, he stared at you before leaning back in, the kiss a lot slower and more passionate than the last. it always felt nice kissing mark, his lips always soft and tasting like coconut lip balm. it was endearing, to say the least. you could tell he puts a lot of effort into looking good and smelling good for you, but you wouldn’t care if he simply just wore sweats and had no lip balm on. he was still your mark, still the same goof you were falling so easily for. he will always be the mark you’re starting to love more and more along the way.

“3,” he hears this, pulling away from your lips to look at the screen, “2!” he looks at you smiling as he places his hand along your cheek and leaning back in, “1!” he closes his eyes, “happy new years!” kiss. kiss after kiss after kiss as you hear fireworks going off in the background. but you can’t find it in yourself to care as mark pulls you into his lap. this was comfortable, such easy access to kiss him just the way you want.

he pulls back, looking at you with big bright wide eyes, and you swear you could see the stars in his eyes. he looked like he was thinking so deeply, and you were wondering just what it was. he was such a curious boy, but you knew he was ambitious, never ending when it comes to getting what he wanted. it’s why he kept chasing after you all that time. and you were so glad you finally agreed to date him. mark was such a gift, being nothing but the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. this was the first serious relationship you had been in, and he was the perfect fit for you. he had to be.

“i love you, y/n,” he says, his eyes glossy.

you freeze in your spot, looking at him for what felt like years. he could feel his heart beating right out of his chest. maybe it’s too soon? did he just fuck up? he was overthinking, he couldn’t help it. did you not love him back? did you-

you smile, “i love you, too, mark.”

he breathes out a sigh of relief, and you laugh a bit, “holy fuck,” he says, “i got so nervous right there.”

you laugh again, “sorry, i just love messing with you. your scared face is too cute,” you kiss his cheek.

he steals a real kiss after that, repeating those same three words over and over again the whole entire night. this was heaven, this was what being happy truly was, you were his first love. and he was yours. this was love, in so many different ways.

you were his home. and he was yours.

jan. 26; day 153

“happy five months!” mark busts through your bedroom door, and you roll over on your bed to see him holding up balloons and some flowers and chocolates. you snort at him, seeing the way he’s all dressed up and smiling so dorkishly.

“it’s 9am, mark,” you laugh, sitting up and yawning. he places the things down, walking towards you and climbing in front of you. he goes for a kiss, but you lean away and shove your hand in his face, “i have morning breath.”

he pouts, pushing your hand away, “i don’t care. i want to kiss you.”

you roll your eyes, giving him a peck before jumping out of bed and seeing the way he pouts like a child, “y/nnn..”

you laugh, “i’ll be five minutes, mark. just let me brush my teeth.”

when you come out of the bathroom, he’s laying all across your bed. he looked really good, his black jeans and fitted black shirt looking impeccably good on him. he always looked good, but for some reason he looked extra good. he had his hat on backwards, and it was attractive to say the least. he catches you staring, smiling at you when he notices you standing there.

“hi, baby,” he sits up on the edge of the bed. you smile at him, boldly sitting right into his lap. his hands instinctively rest on your hips, “i love you.”

you smile, kissing him properly, “i love you, too, mark.” you kiss along his jaw, “so much.” your breath was hot against his skin, and you were so pretty, so good to him. “happy five months.” you lean back and see that he’s smiling again.

“i’m lucky to have you,” he says to you, his hands roaming all along your body. but his touches had no alternative intentions, and you couldn’t help from smiling along with him. he was such a good boyfriend.

“me too, mark,” you whisper back, looking him right in the eyes, “i didn’t imagine us making it this far, but i’m so happy we did. you’re so good to me, and i can’t thank you enough for loving me.”

he smiles, “thank you for loving me, y/n.” he kisses you, and you melt into him. you were so used to kissing mark, it felt like you were made just for kissing him, but each and every time still never failed to make you crumble. it was a blessing to be able to kiss mark, and to be able to call him your boyfriend. he felt the same exact way about you, pride constantly filling up each and every time someone saw that you were his, and his only. you will always be his, he’ll make sure of it.

mark was a dream boy, your dream boy. so perfect in every single way. “i love you so much, mark.” you whisper against his lips.

he looks you in the eye, “i love you so much, too, y/n.”

tears start to well in your eyes, and you can’t help but wonder if he’ll end up leaving you one day. mark could probably find someone a lot better than you in every way imaginable, you can’t help but wonder why he constantly chooses you over everyone else. but you’re not complaining. not in the slightest. as long as you had mark, you didn’t have time to worry about those things. you were lucky enough to love him in the first place, and you knew this.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, and he leans his head into your soft touch, “i may not be able to give you everything you need all the time,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “but i will remind you every day of my life that i love you.”

he looks at you with a soft smile stretched on his perfectly shaped lips, “me too, baby. always.”

you lean to kiss him again, “always.”

feb. 14; day 172 

“mark, it’s jaehyun’s birthday,” you pout. mark was being stubborn, he didn’t want to go out for his birthday, wanting to stay with you and spend valentine’s day with you only. he was afraid jaehyun would get too friendly with you again, insecurity starting to bubble up again. “we have to at least go and wish him happy birthday.”

“he doesn’t deserve one after last time i saw him,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with you. you heard him despite him looking away from you, it was hard to miss the jealousy dripping from his voice.

“mark,” you sit down next to him on the couch, looking him in the eyes. you brush some of his hair out of his face as he stares at you, “there isn’t anyone on this earth that could steal me away from you.”

he sighs, “i know,” he pauses, looking away, “i guess i’m just..” he takes a breath as he stops again. he looked as if he was struggling getting the words out. “i just don’t want to lose you, or feel like i could. i’m not used to feeling like this.” he shifts in his seat and avoids eye contact. he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye.

you smile to yourself, making him face you again, “me neither, mark. but you have to trust me when i say i love you, and only you.”

his eyes were getting glossy the longer he stared, “i trust you.”

“and i trust you, mark. there’s no taking me away.”

he felt as if a whole weight had been lifted. he knew he couldn’t help the jealousy that would bubble up, but you were his. and he needed to realize that no one would ever take you away from him. he wasn’t sure why he was so possessive in the first place, but you always seemed to reassure no matter what. and he was grateful for you. he was especially grateful that you weren’t creeped out by it, or thought he was being weird and over reacting. he was lucky, and he didn’t want anyone else to have you this way.

“thank you,” he breathes out, leaning over and giving you a kiss. you kiss back, and you could feel everything falling in to place all over again. life seemed to be a lot easier with mark around. it was as if time was flying, but in the best way possible. it was always like that with mark, and you know that will never change.

“let’s get going then,” you say, smiling as you pull away and stand up. you offer a hand to him, and he takes it as he gets up. “you can stick by me like glue if you want.”

he laughs at that, “i just might.”

the whole night was congratulating jaehyun on another year, and mark constantly having an arm around you. it was comforting, and you could tell mark was more at ease now. you were happy he was feeling better. every now and then he would give you a quick peck, smiling down at you. he looked pretty under all the lights. he even looked pretty in the dark with just the moonlight shining on him. mark was so incredible. and as the night came to an end, you were holding onto each other tightly.

he whispered into your ear just how much he loved you, and you would say it back as the two of you doze off to sleep. there was no describing the feeling he gave you.

mar. 22; day 209

the air was thick, you felt like you were suffocating. mark’s hips were working so deliciously, shoving his cock inside you and out over and over again. he was always so good with his hips, you felt like you were going to pass out. you were a moaning, writhing mess. and he, personally, loved it. you were so easy please around him, and he loved the noises you made each time the head of his cock teased right against your sweet spot. you were so beautiful.

“so good,” he mumbles, his hands intertwining with yours. he held your hands above your head, your fingers locking together. mark was a love maker, he showed you just how much he cared each and every time. it was pure, sweet bliss being with him. “so tight, baby.”

you whined in his hold, your back arching as you looked right into his dark colored eyes. he was so beautiful up close. you were amazed how you even got him. “you’re so good, mark,” you gasp, “so fucking good.”

he chuckles, leaning down to press his lips to yours, “all for you.” he emphasizes his words by thrusting deeper and faster. he reaches a hand down to start rubbing at your clit, feeling the way your walls would start to flutter around his throbbing dick. it felt so good. his other hand stayed connected with yours, and you were grateful for it. your other hand, however, was clawing all along his back. you were holding on for dear life, wanting so desperately to cum for him.

“fuck, mark,” you choke out, feeling as you start to come undone around him, “oh god, so good. so, so good.” your whines edged him on, and soon enough you were cumming around him sweetly, his name being repeated over and over again until all you could remember was mark, mark, mark. it was always mark. never not him.

“such a good girl,” you hear his whisper as he cums right after you, filling you up so well. you rarely let him cum inside, so this was a treat for him. your were slick as he came, feeling his body shudder against yours as you whine for him all through it. “i love you.” he kisses you softly.

you return the kiss, in a trance, “i love you so much.”

he smiles at you, admiring the way you look. you were always such a sight to see. he loved you so much, he was afraid of losing you.

april 17; day 235

you were going to cry. you were convinced you were going to cry. you never cried, or rather showed much emotion, but this very moment, all you could think about was breaking down. nothing was right. nothing was ever right. why did you even do this? why did you even agree to be with mark? what was happening to the two of you?

it was your first fight. your first real fight. and you could feel your world crashing in on you. it was terrifying, and you were scared shitless. you had never experienced this kind of fear. never once in your life had to deal with this kind of stress. mark was your first real relationship, so you weren’t exactly sure what to do. for the first time ever, you were clueless. you wished they had some kind of book written for this. but maybe you shouldn’t wish that, because that’s why you were both fighting in the first place.

“i barely see you anymore,” he sighed, roughly running his fingers through his hair, “it’s like all you can think about is those damn books. and i know you care a lot about studying, but i need you to be my girlfriend sometimes, too.” his eyes were sparkling under the light, and it wasn’t the way he used to look at you. his eyes were filled with tears this time, looking at you with despair and anger.

but, your blood boiled against your own will, “you think i chose this?” you ask, eyes narrowing at him, “you know how important all of this is to me. i need to pass my exams. i need this in order to live a nice easy life. i’m sorry i’m not worried about the next party available.” you scoffed.

he was hurt. his heart was pounding against his chest as he saw another side of you that he had yet to see. it was painful, and he wished to never see it again. he sighed as the two of you sat in an awkward, tense silence. it was eating the two of you alive. but it took forever before either one of you spoke up.

“do you love me?”

the words hit you hard. you felt as if you just got cold water dumped on you. was he really doubting your love for him? was this what the two of you were coming down to? you let out a huff of breath, obviously hurt. but his eyes were serious, and he glanced at the clock beside you, before looking back at you. it was late, you knew this. but you couldn’t let it end like this, you couldn’t have him walk away thinking you don’t love him.

“mark,” you step forward, “there isn’t a day where i don’t.”

he looks away from you, tears now falling freely from his big bright eyes. he was hurting, and you were the cause of it. you felt so terrible. you felt like hell, only wanting to make it up to him at this point. but he was doubting your love for him. how could you two ever go back after that?

“it’s so hard to tell sometimes,” he looks up at you again. his eyes were puffy already, his lips quivering and his nose turning red, “some days, i’m surprised when you say you love me back. other days i’m wondering if you’re lying to me. it’s hard not knowing what you’re thinking.”

mark was always someone who needed that kind of reassurance, and you knew this. you just always forgot to give it to him every single day, the way he deserved. is this what he was really thinking all this time? did mark really have this kind of perspective on you?

“mark, i love you.” you start, reaching a hand out to make him look at you, “i may not be able to express it the way i should most of the time, but that doesn’t mean i don’t love you. because i do. i really do, mark. there isn’t anyone in this world that could make me feel the way you do, and i will stand by that for the rest of my life.” you lean into him as he grasps at your waist, “you were made just for me, i’m sure of it, mark. i love you, a whole lot more than you could ever imagine.”

he was breaking, and you were picking up the pieces one by one. he kisses you, and you could taste the salty tears that were earlier running down his face, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care. not when the love of your life was doubting your love for him. the kiss was so slow, soft, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. it was passionate, no hidden meanings and no rising intentions coming by. it was just you, and mark. no one else.

“i’ll remind you forever, mark,” you whisper against his lips, “i love you, forever.”

may 14; day 262

three days. it’s been three whole days since mark last texted you. and, honestly, you were starting to get tired. you’ve been trying to reach out to him, but nothing seemed to work. today, though, you finally decided to drive your ass over there and see why the hell he was ignoring you in the first place. could he still be stuck on your last fight? was that why he was ignoring you? you were starting to get drained from everything, not realizing how hard it really was holding together a relationship.

you don’t even bother knocking on the door, helping yourself in with the key he gave you a couple months ago. the minute you walk in, you could feel the air was cold. how the hell could he live in such a cold temperature? you were starting to doubt he was even here by how cold and lonely it felt. it was quiet, no sign of life from the looks of it. but you make your way towards his door anyway. you see it slightly open, and you push it softly to expose the area.

there he was. sitting on his bed, facing away from the door and looking out of the window. but you doubted he found the tree in front of him interesting. you stepped inside the room, careful not to disturb him. you needed to know why he was ignoring you, though. so you timidly sat by him. he could feel your presence the minute you opened the door, but refused to move or say anything. you both sat in silence. the sound of breathing starting to become louder and louder in your ears. you felt as if you were being tortured with his silence.

“mark,” you say softly, your voice cracking in the loud silence. he sat still, not even exchanging you a look. his jaw was tightened, and you could see the way his fingers were tightly grasping each other. it was a painful, deafening silence that was being released into the air.

he sighed, closing his eyes as yours stayed glued in on him. he finally says something, your heart suffocating at the sight of his soft stubble he had yet to shave, “i’m sorry for ghosting you.” it was a quiet apology.

you look away from him, looking at the tree, “it’s fine.”

he opened his eyes finally to look at you for the first time that night. for the first time in three days. and you were still as beautiful as ever. you had a glow on your face as the moonlight struck you in all kinds of different ways. it was stunning, you were always stunning. he could feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, you would always be too good for him. he always believed that. even when he didn’t know how to treat you half the time, you were still there to pick him right back up. even when he decided to run away from his emotions rather than sort them out, you would always come right to him. even when ignored you for three whole days, you would still come and check in on him, no questions truly asked. a pain struck him right through the heart the longer he looked at you.

“why do you always come back?” he huffs, and this makes you whip your head in his direction. “i mean.. i can’t be good for you. you will always be more-”

“i’m not more of anything, mark.” you say to him, your voice leveled, while his was shaking. “my heart hasn’t changed. not for you. you’re my boyfriend, someone i love like no one else. there hasn’t been anyone like you. i don’t want you doubting yourself just because i’m a bit more stern than you. you’re allowed to be messy, mark. i love you. stop thinking you aren’t good enough for me. you’re more than that.”

he cried. the whole entire night, he was curled in your arms as you held him while he cried and sobbed into your soft shirt. you could feel his tears trailing along your arm, but you could care less. the hold he had on you was tight, and it was starting to feel like he was afraid you were going to poof right out of his grip. your fingers stayed in his hair, tangled around the soft strands as you soothed him. eventually, you dragged the both of you under the covers of the bed and he was soon lulled to sleep, his arms grasping tightly around your waist while yours were still coaxing him in a soft, loving hug. mark had a lot of doubts, a lot of stress on his shoulders. and he was afraid of showing it, but he felt like he could around you. and it was such a blessing having you by his side.

“i love you, mark,” you kiss the top of his forehead as his puffy eyes shut and his swollen lips started to pout in a deep sleep. “you’re worth so much to me.”

and you really did mean it.

june 23; day 302

“mark!” you squeal as he tickles along your sides. you were starting to lose your breath, but he just couldn’t help himself. your laugh was so luxurious in his eyes, and your smile was so pretty. “stop! oh my g- god!” you laugh out loud, trying to break free from his arms.

he finally pulls back, grinning at you wildly, “you’re so cute, y/n.” he kisses you, his mood changing significantly. you wanted to be mad at him, but with the way his lips were tightly pressed against yours, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be completely angry. when he pulled away, he had a look of love written on his features. it was endearing, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. he was so pretty up close.

“where do you think we’ll be in ten years?” he says, easily flopping on top of you. you let out a huff because his strong weight, but nonetheless started to run your fingers through his hair as he looked up at you like a cat in love.

you chuckle, “together.” you say simply, and heat seemed to have rose onto his cheeks because he looked away briefly before making eye contact again. his cheeks were painted pink.

“you think so?” he asks, leaning into the touch of your hand.

“yeah,” you breathe, “i really do. do you?”

he nods his head, “always.”

you smile at him, and he could feel the winds knocking him right out the longer he looked at you. you always seemed to have a hold on him that he wasn’t even aware of. he felt like he could be with you forever. he knew he could. anywhere you went, he would follow. no doubt about it.

“it’s hot outside,” you look out the window in his bedroom, seeing the way the sun was blazing in the room. he had his ac as low as it could go, but nothing seemed to be enough.

he nodded in agreement, getting up off of you to let you breathe, “yeah, wanna get ice cream?” his eyes lit up as he mentioned ice cream, and you laughed as you quickly nodded your head, getting up off the bed to join him in getting up.

“lead the way, my prince,” you your arms out in front of you, bowing at him and he couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past his lips. you smiled up at him as you straightened.

he ruffles your hair, “will do, my princess.”

he catches the way you got shy at the nickname.

july 18; day 327

“can you believe it’s been almost a year since we got together?” mark asks, watching as you eat your food in front of him. you cooked each other dinner tonight, him helping in the minor things as you took over. you loved the boy, but he really didn’t know how to cook.

you swallow, “i know, it feels like time really passed by too quickly,” you pout, taking a sip of your drink.

“it’s been the best year ever,” he says moreso to himself, but you hear it anyway and you can’t stop the smile that raises along your cheeks. he notices and he smiles right back, his nose scrunching up.

“for a boy who hates cheesy things, you sure are cheesy,” you lean your head on your hand, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

he chuckles at your expression while taking a bite of his food, “yeah, that was until you came into my life. everything just turned cheesy.”

you roll your eyes, yet you were still smiling, “dork.”

he shrugs his shoulder, “and you’re the one dating the dork.”

you narrow your eyes, before smirking and getting up from your seat, coming towards his. he sips on his water, curious on what you were doing. you were quick to sit on his lap, making him almost choke on the liquid in his throat. he looked nervous, but his hands were quick to grab onto your hips. he was surprised, but it was still pleasantly. you rolled your hips into his, watching as his eyes flutter shut and you feel his fingernails starting to dig into your flesh. you were wearing shorts and a tanktop, perfect easy access for everything.

“fuck,” he huffs out, his head resting against your shoulder. your hips were relentless, and he was getting harder and harder with every movement. you could feel his dick through his sweatpants, and it was rubbing deliciously against your clit. his hands roamed your body as he started to suck on your neck messily. you were so wet, and you knew you had to be soaking through your shorts at this point.

“you’re so hard, mark,” you let out, craining your neck for him to have more access.

“and you’re so wet,” he groans, feeling as your hips swiveled in circles before picking up pace. it felt so damn good. “you wanna cum in your pants, baby?”

“do you?” you retort, grinding heavily against him. the air was thick, and you felt like you could burst at any second now. he laughs against your neck, before gripping your hips and helping you guide along his dick easily through your clothes. it felt so good, and you were so close. he could tell with the way your fingers were starting to dig into his shoulders and your moans were getting more and more loud. you were unintentionally vocal, but it always seemed to please him either way.

“such a dirty girl,” he whispers, one of his hands traveling up your back and along your spine through your shirt. you arch into him and he groans. “so close,” he mumbles, licking along your neck.

“fuck, mark,” you moan, “me too, so close. gonna cum in my cute little shorts for you.”

his eyes went wide, not used to the way you were talking so dirty. it wasn’t like you, but he wasn’t complaining. not in the slightest. he moans with you, “come on, baby. cum in those cute little shorts of yours like you said. make yourself cum without my dick even being in you. such a naughty girl,” he hums in your ear.

“oh fuck!” you fall foward onto him, your hips faltering in pace as you cum. it was such a euphoric feeling when it came to mark, so much better than when you did it alone. you were chanting his name, and soon enough he was cumming with you. he stains his sweatpants and boxers, some leaking through and onto your shorts. you could feel his dick twitching below you as you both settled down, your breathing heavy.

“so good,” he rubs your back, watching as your body slumps into his. “let’s go get cleaned, baby. we’ll wash the dishes later.” he kisses your temple as you softly nod your head. “perfect.”

august 2; day 342

“happy birthday, mark!” you scream as you rush towards his room. you had been saying happy birthday to him every single hour, texting him while you were out getting cake and his favorite foods. he said he preferred staying in with you for the day, and you only pouted and agreed to his wishes. whatever he wanted today, he would get. a lot of people seemed to wish him happy birthday, and he only thanked them with a small smiley face.

he smiled at you, happy to finally see you, “baby! thank you,” he laughs, “but you’ve been telling me all day long.” he kisses you sweetly, and you can’t help the smile that stretches along your face.

“you only deserve the best,” you pull his face into yours again, and he sighs sweetly against your lips. he tasted like mint, while you tastes like watermelon. you wore his favorite chapstick.

“i love you,” he whispers against your lips, arms greedily wrapping around you.

“i love you more,” you mumble back. before it gets too far, you push him back and show him the cake you bought. “look! i got you a spiderman cake!”

he laughs out loud, “from halloween?”

“yeah,” you smile back, “i think halloween was around the time when i really started to fall for you, so i bought you a spiderman cake for your birthday to kind of relive that moment.”

he smiles at you before quickly picking you up and twirling you around a couple of times. he laughs at the squeaks you let out, demanding he put you down. “i love you so fucking much,” he says as he places you down, “i don’t know how i ever got this lucky.”

your cheeks feel hot as you look up at him, “i love you, too, mark.” you kiss his cheek, and he smiles at the tender action. “now, let’s eat your cake, birthday boy.”

the rest of the day was filled with laughter, talks of the future, and slow, loving sex as he discovered the sweet dark lace beneath your clothes. everything felt like heaven with him, and you were so in love with this boy. no one compares to him, you decided.

“happy birthday, mark,” you moan in his ear as his hips work fluidly with yours. you say atop him, riding him sweetly, “i love you.”

he kisses you messily, his dick trapped between your heat and his head swimming in thoughts of you, and you alone, “i love you, too, baby.” he groans, his fingers digging into your back as he trails them down and leaves scratching marks, “so much.”

this was heaven, and you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

august 26; day 366

one year.

a whole entire year of loving mark lee.

and, in all honesty, you were overwhelmed. how could you have spent that much time with someone, every single day for a year? it was insane in your eyes, but you truly couldn’t see yourself with anyone else. you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. not when mark was, quite literally, your dream boy. loving him for a whole year feels surreal, and you really weren’t complaining.

“happy one year,” you breathe, leaning in for a kiss. you both stood on the balcony of his apartment, the warm summer night air flowing through your hair. it just turned midnight, and you can’t help the smile that spread across your face as you watched it turn midnight.

“happy one year, baby,” he bites his bottom lip, “this is crazy.”

you laugh, “it is, but i wouldn’t want it any other way,” you lean into his grip, “we’ve had our moments, but i truly think it has made us a whole lot stronger as a couple.” you look deeply into his eyes, “i love you, mark lee. there will never be a day where i don’t, and there will never be a day where i stop thinking of you. you will forever be the boy i love, the boy i truly fell in love with. i can never thank you enough for showing me the love i thought i’d never get, or even be able to reciprocate. i hope i make you as happy as you make me, mark.”

tears form in his eyes as he pouts, “you do, y/n. i want no one else but you, and i will keep saying that for the rest of my life. i love you, so damn much it hurts. i can’t imagine my life without you, y/n. i have never loved someone as much as i have loved you, and i can truly say that,” he kisses you softly, “you are forever mine, and i am forever yours.”

you smile against his lips, running your fingers through his hair. this, this was love. this was what being loved, and being in love felt like. the pain, the heartbreak, the aching. all of it was worth it, as long as it was with mark. everything was worth it, as long as it was with mark lee. and no matter where life took the both of you, you swore you would always love him. through thick and thin, you would love him.

“move in with me,” he hushes, breaking apart from your lips briefly.

you smile and only nod your head, “i basically live here, anyway.” he was expecting a bigger, more dramatic reaction, but he could only laugh and sweetly kiss you again. he was living in a world that smelled like watermelon and roses around you, and he loved it.

“i love you forever.”

“and ever,” you whisper back.

now that i know the soft magic of your laugh and how your body moves like art, why would i ever go back? what was before you?

a/n: I’m aware this includes leap year, please don’t judge haha i based it off of 2020

[nerdlvr]

𖦹 .ᐣ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ cryptic crush

are you looking for something deeper than just superficial romance? of course you are! sm university presents : cryptic crush the only on campus app that is 100% anonymous. sign up now and we'll randomly pair you with someone ready to chat! who knows? they might be the one...

maybe you should've kept in mind that anyone looking to find love is allowed on the app even campus fuck boy mark lee

fuckboy!mark x fem!reader

visual inspo btw

genre : humor, neighbors/enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, slight slow burn, fluff, mark and reader are always at it bro (fighting not fucking LMAO),

warnings : sex jokes, death jokes, mean ass insults and comments, descriptions of sex and dirty acts, reader is a secret freak, lets see for how many chapters i can talk about sex for tbh...

notes : my 2nd smau! I wanna take my time with this one since there's not evil dad backstory lol... i apologize beforehand for the way these guys talk about women. feedback is always appreciated and don't forget to enjoy!

playlist : pony , ginuwine | s&m , rihanna | sex with me , rihanna | die for you , the weekend | the boy is mine , ariana grande | kiss me thru the phone , soulja boy | work out , j.cole | rodeo , lah pat | agora hills , doja cat | moonlight , kali uchis

status : completed !

profiles [1] | profiles [2]

intro

[1] pussy with emotion

[2] juliet o juliet

[3] jelena forever

[4] false alarm

[5] long dee

[6] zoo wee mama

[7] good boy

[8] nanami x reader

[9] GAGGED YOU

[10] constipation

[11] honesty and attention

[12] might like her sorta

[13] 10/10

[14] psych manipulation techniques

[15] burger king

[16] that's barbie bitch

[17] that sounds familiar…

[18] GET MARRIED?!

[19] haiiiiii >0<

[20] rizz

[21] bread and jam

[22] tap dancing

[23] she gotta be a lesbian

[24] brat

[25] the y/n way

[26] YOU SNOOZE YOU LOSE

[27] oh fuck no.

[28] gordon ramsay

[29] friendly bonding

[30] who tf is peter

[31] sweetie pie juliet

[32] skibbiddi toilet rizz

[33] he's molesting us

[34] @ilynanam1

[35] hairy balls

[36] are u my daddy?

[37] crack dry

[38] he's unemployed

[39] certified throat goat

[40] dream blunt rotation

END~

bonus :

[1] private but not secret

[2] ms. daisy

[3] finally on the priv

[4] first time (written smut)

END~

[sehunniepotwrites]

let’s break the ice | m.l | one

🏒  SYNOPSIS— in which you’re attending your college team’s hockey practice with your best friend and embarrassment ensues.  🏒 GENRE— fluff, humor, crack, college!au, hockey!au 🏒 PAIRING— hockey captain!mark lee x reader 🏒 WORD COUNT— 1.4k 🏒 WARNINGS— sexual innuendos made! 

🏒 AUTHOR’S NOTE—i would like to thank whitney for tweeting the inspiration for this fic and my chaotic ass group chat for all the ideas. i also know nothing about hockey. (read through it twice to edit but i might’ve missed some errors!)

(11/27/2020: edit! surprise! it’s now a mini-series!)

| next > 

It’s so cold in the rink but your face is flushing as you blatantly stare at the hockey team gearing up for practice. You don’t exactly understand how the sight of college hockey players gets you riled up but hey, they’re delicious eye candy and their games are extremely entertaining, so you’re one hundred percent here for it.

They’re so close but so far— close enough to hear their conversations but far enough to be separated by the glass. 

You’re practically sinking in your seat, ogling the handsome boys hunched over the player’s bench, and Jaemin is shaking your head at you. He pretends to swipe at your lips and then rubs his hand on his pants. “You’re drooling, missy,” he chuckles at how shamelessly you’re admiring the players who also happen to be his close friends.

Bringing up a sleeve to wipe your mouth with your sleeve, you peek down to see nothing wet staining the material. You shoot your best friend a deadpanned look and he snorts at your reaction. “I didn’t bring you along to fawn over this lot of idiots, you know,” he says with a raised brow. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, waving him off with your hand, eyes still glued to the players on the bench. You spot Jeno looking in your direction and he smiles at you before the brightest grin breaks out on his face upon seeing Jaemin. 

“You brought me to be the third wheel for dinner tonight; what a great best friend you are, Nana.” Turning to your side, you see Jaemin waving at his boyfriend with a matching grin. You’re almost jealous at the fact that Jaemin had found love in such an amazing guy like Jeno and you constantly find yourself wishing for something just as great as their relationship.  

“I could always introduce you to one of the guys on the team and invite them too if you want,” Jaemin nudges your side and you laugh at his suggestion. You debate on taking up that offer, knowing your meddling best friend would actually do that for you, before declining it. “Break the ice and your streak of being single.”

“Nah,” you say, “they’re all cute but I think the only one I would actually be interested in is the cap.” 

Captain Mark Lee— your university’s golden boy. He’s the unbelievably endearing third year that’s dedicated to both his sport and his major. He can easily win your heart through the love songs he composes on his guitar and the sound of his sweet voice. If you meet him on the rink, however, you’ll find yourself going against a beast— his level of competitiveness is off the charts, and the concentrated glare his brown eyes give off is something no one wants to experience. 

You’ve seen both sides of him, being in his major’s cohort and a close friend of the hockey team, and it somehow led you to crushing on Mark. But really, who wouldn’t?

“Ah, yes, the golden boy,” Jaemin hums. You hear shuffling coming from the steps behind you and you shrug it off as one of the other players heading in late. Probably Yangyang— that boy always loses track of time.

“Hmm, yeah,” you sigh, dropping your head to lean on Jaemin’s shoulder. “Mark could honestly slam me against a shield guard and I would say ‘thank you.’” 

Before Jaemin could reply, you hear a yelp followed by the loudest thud come from the concrete steps. You and Jaemin turn to find Mark sprawled out on the staircase, his bag and hockey stick tumbling down to the player’s area.

Mark looks up at you with widened eyes from his spot on the steps like a deer caught in headlights. There’s a bright shade of red that spreads from his cheeks down to his neck and you’re sure you’re mirroring his embarrassing state. You can’t believe he actually heard you say that.

Jaemin and the other boys on the team snicker at the awkward situation and you just want to dig a hole into the ground and jump into it. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak out. You’re gripping Jaemin’s sleeve, fingernails digging into his arm as he continues to cackle at your misery. 

““Oh, um, um, I don’t think t-that’s a good idea, like, that hurts, like a lot,” Mark replies, flustered as a boy could ever be. He tugs on his earlobe before his hand rubs the back of his reddening neck. 

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Why is this happening? And why is he so cute?

“Yeah, right, of course,” you breathe out, biting your bottom lip before looking to Jaemin for help. He does nothing of the sort and continues to laugh at your misfortune. Some best friend he was.

“Nice to see you here today,” Mark says, his voice cracking at the end and he clutches his throat at the unexpected break. It sends your best friend and the players into another laughing fit and you glare at them for reeling in Mark’s embarrassment. The captain runs his fingers through his blond hair and gives you an awkward smile before gathering his belongings and making his way down to his team. You hear him muttering something to himself but it was too low for you to catch.

As soon as he makes it to the bench, his teammates slap him across the back and you see Ten ruffling his hair. A childish whine leaves his lips as they continue to tease him and you can’t help but smile at how close they seem. 

Jeno whispers something to Mark, causing the captain to sneak another peek at you. You meet his eyes and you both look away with heated cheeks. 

The teasing continues to go on as Mark laces up his skates and takes off his blade guards but it all halts when his facial expression changes into something more serious. His voice drops in pitch as he commands the team to start making their way to the ice and it sends butterflies flying about in your stomach.

Something inside you wishes he talked to you in that voice and suddenly, your imagination is running wild. Jaemin, noticing how quiet you are, shifts his gaze from his boyfriend to you and shakes his head at that hopeless grin that’s taken over your lips.

“You’ve seen how incredibly clumsy Mark is and you still want him to smash you against the shield guard?” your best friend questions.

You’re a bit out of it when you reply, “I mean I want him to smash something else but that works, too.” Jaemin is bubbling with laughter at what your words are hinting. You grin at him and he playfully shoves the side of your head.

You watch as Jaemin cups his hands around his mouth and you realize what he’s about to do a second too late. “Hey Cap!” he yells. Mark nods your way as he steps closer to the ice, letting Jaemin know that he’s listening. He slips his helmet on, making sure it’s nice and secure.

“She said she still wants to smash; you up for it or nah?” your best friend shouts loud enough for the whole rink to hear. 

One moment Mark is stepping on the ice, the next he is slipping. He falls face flat on the cold surface and instead of checking on their beloved captain, the boys are laughing their asses off, using their sticks as support to hold up their shaking bodies. He groans in pain and you wince, two bad falls within ten minutes must hurt.

“Everything is cool, it’s cool,” Mark says to no one as he pushes himself off the ice. He looks up at you and you catch him nibbling on his lip through the wire cage.

“I mean, we would have to break the ice first but why not?” he manages to shout back before skating away to bark warm-up commands to the other players. His teammates ignore his calls, choosing to skate over to tease their captain. They playfully whack him with their sticks and Mark’s yelling at them to focus on their warm-up exercises.

Mark’s unexpectedly smooth words leave you in a bumbling mess, hands coming up to feel how fast your heart is racing against your chest. Your head is filled with Mark and only Mark. 

“Wow,” Jaemin says with raised brows. He smirks at you, “Guess your wildest dreams of being smashed against the shield are so close to coming true.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Nana,” you say, fighting back a smile. 

God, you love hockey. 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2020

[diorcities]

  ── 🎏 ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ % asking for a kiss !

nct dream sfw headcanon. library.

mark: “can i get a kiss?” he has gotten up from his nap and has automatically gone to the kitchen after hearing sounds coming from there, hugging you from behind and nuzzling his face on your neck as he circles your waist to get your attention. your hand rests on his cheek tenderly, bringing your lips to his in a tender, chaste kiss.

renjun: “can i kiss you?” nodding while feeling your neck burn furiously because his doe eyes are already staring at your lips. watching him take off his seatbelt to get closer to you, and your body unthinkingly leans back from the seat, looking at him absentmindedly wetting his lips before he brings his mouth to yours, slowly.

jeno: “kiss me” your hands wrap around his neck to draw him to you, but jeno doesn't give in to you, and instead folds his arms and throws his head out of your reach playfully. it's a big struggle and you're both laughing before he lowers himself to your height and finally lets you lead the way, smiling dearly in the middle of the kiss.

haechan: “gimme a kiss” he's cornered you between the wall and him and you're so flustered that he thinks it's cute after flirting with him not a minute ago. he doesn't wait for a reply, and pulls you to him by the waist, prompting his soft mouth on yours as he makes out with you intensely.

jaemin: “can you kiss me?” laying on top of you in the bed as a way to get your attention after spending too much time on the phone. he pulls away from you after having kissed all over your face, genuinely asking for you to kiss him now, but he's very impatient and starts to pepper your face again while you take your time to answer.

chenle: “do you want a kiss?” he mocks after catching you staring at his lips. you'd thought he was too busy ignoring you playing videogames to realize you were doing it, and now he's caught you red-handed and won't leave you alone for a long time, but when he grabs you by the back of the neck and kisses you, you think it was worth it.

jisung: “would you mind if we kiss?” in the dark and warm space of his room room talking about silly things as you fall asleep, without thinking starting to gaze into each other's eyes after going quiet, mesmerized. both approaching the other until your noses brush and your lips meet gently, adjusting to each other and starting to kiss.

[sakuurae]

two cups of sugar

summary: after visiting a new pastry shop down the street, mark lee becomes a regular for the sweet treats, but especially for the even sweeter girl that works the counter.

❀ pairing: mark & patissiere!reader insert || patisserie!AU

❀ includes: fluff, humour

❀ wc: 12.2k

❀ note: A cute little scenario for mark! Happy birthday to my baby and me :’) I hope you guys enjoy! I based this off a scene that occurred in my friends life, which had me crying on the floor in laughter. Haha

Mark Lee, prevailing university track star and notorious stunner, was more farouche than one would expect.

He was ebullient at least, vibrant at most—there was never a dull moment if Mark Lee was in the milieu, for he knew how to brighten up the entire ambience with a simple thread of words. Girls loved him, boys supported him—he was frequently praised for his outstanding accomplishments and periodically went out to treat himself with his friends.

Right after track practice was one of those occasions. He was almost drained, exhausted from sprints and leaping over hurdles; he wanted some treats to rejuvenate, and so he went out with his friends. Word spread that a new pastry store had opened downtown, known for their palatable bursts of flavor and appealing display. It raised Mark’s curiosity and he extended the word to his friends, who only craved for a bite of the sweet treats. So, falling right after their arduous practice like a flawless, quick cascade, they walked to the patisserie, ravenous for fresh delicacy.

Their legs were growing sore, and it was not a good combination with the balmy heat beating down on their skin. Mark let out a groan, weary and ready to rest. “How far is it again?” Mark complained, stretching his arms to the sky. “My legs are dying.”

His friend shot him a glare, annoyed at his words. “It was your idea to visit the new store. You have no right to complain about the walk,” he shot back. “Even if it is taking us twenty minutes.”

Mark laughed. “Gosh, Donghyuck, my bad. I didn’t think it would take this long to make it to downtown.”

“You thought wrong,” chimed in another friend.

“Jae,” Mark pouted, “you were complaining about the same thing five minutes ago!”

“There’s nothing to complain about anymore because”—Jaehyun peered down at his device and back up to see if the maps app had led the crew to the correct place—“I think we made it.”

Mark grinned in relief, ready to take rest inside the store. There it was, only a couple of steps away. The three boys made their way to the pastry shop, heads turning in every direction as they observed the exterior. The walls were painted an inviting baby blue; two tables along with chairs were by the opened window; the mellow music tunes were audible from a short distance. Clearly, it did not look like the place for a couple of rambunctious boys to visit after a sweaty, messy practice.

The three boys stood out prominently when they waltzed into the store, and it was not due to the ring form the bell that hanged by the door that caught everyone’s attention. Their disheveled appearance and sunblock sheened self (and glowing sweat) drew attention indisputably. It was as blatant as the illustrations in a pop-out book.

The sweet scent of cinnamon swirled together with fresh strawberries within the humble shop. The aroma was spreading throughout the area, a delectable ensconcement that wrapped its arms around the three boys. Each person within the pastry store appeared convivial, and they all awaited the next batch of steamed cake that was preparing itself in the designated confinement. When it was opened by a worker the steam rose into the air like talons before disappearing into nothing. Mark was astounded by the interior—the neat arrangement of periwinkle to ivory tables and chairs, wooden decor, an array of blossoms, and much more—before being stunned by what the pastry store had to offer.

There was an array of treats to choose from: seeded bagels, blackberry pastries dusted with powdered sugar, miniature buttered croissants—each in their own section. There was way too many choices for him to select one, and he was investing himself in the beauty that rested within the cases until his friend tapped his shoulder. “Mark, what do you plan on getting? This place looks incredible,” asked Jaehyun.

Mark’s eyes never left the glass case the held the wonders of the pastry store. So far, the goodness that was the cornet pies, chocolate drizzled over the surface, caught his eye. “I’m not sure yet, there’s a lot of things to choose from.”

“May I help you?” asked a worker behind the counter.

Mark saw from his field of view a blurry frame of a woman approach behind the glass and he straightened his posture, tilting his head up to look at the worker as he said, “Ah, yeah. I’d actually like to try—”

Mark’s words cut themselves off short, for his mind went blank at the sight of the worker—at the sight of you. You had a gentle smile tugging at your lips, hair out of your face as a work requirement yet he found it charming, and a powder blue apron hugging your body. Every time you blinked stars would ignite their own luster, enthralling him impotently.

Immediately, Mark obtained a unique taste of nonpareil palatableness on his tongue, and he only craved to satisfy his sweet tooth with you.

You waited for the man to continue what he was about to say, but he was rendered speechless. You tilted your head and looked at his friends, whose attentions were still directed towards the set of macarons. Your sight fleeted from the boy and his friends and you finally said, “Our most popular macaron flavor is lemon sunrise, and our weekly flavor is red velvet.”

Mark’s mouth hung open as if he was starstrucked; quite honestly, he was. Never had he ever seen a girl so beautiful—at a pastry store, of all places. He became flustered, face painting with a translucent pink as he tried to find the right words. “Thanks,” responded Jaehyun. “We should get six macarons—two for each of us.”

“Oh!” You clapped your hands together. “If you get four then you get two free—it’s a part of our grand opening deal,” you informed with a grin.

The further the scene escalated the more Mark’s mind was sent into a whirlwind. He had obtained a sugar rush from hearing your words coat with a sweet honey. “That sounds great, what do you think, Mark?” asked Donghyuck.

“Ah”—Mark shook his head, dragging himself back to reality—“t-that sounds good to me.”

You smiled at him in response, noticing how he responded to his friends whilst gawking at you. “Great, what flavors would you guys like? I’d recommend the lemon sunrise, not because I made that batch or anything,” you jested with a giggle.

Mark’s heart fluttered and he pressed his lips into a thin line. You tried to direct your attention to the two hungry boys that argued over which flavors to order, but Mark was equally as distracting. He had a pink swirling at the apples of his cheeks as if it was a natural blush, gifted with a dewy look—a unique beauty your eyes had never feasted upon. You felt silly: there you were, behind the counter with a dirty apron with blotches of flour on the fabric. It truly was an unexpected encounter.

“We can try it,” he told you, interrupting his friend’s petulant argument.

“Sounds good to me,” you said in response. The boys each told you what flavors they craved and you acted upon their request, picking up each colorful macaron with a set of wooden tongs and slipping them into a small plastic take-away container.

Mark watched you move diligently and gracefully. You had the looks of an angel, and acted like one. Your movements were slow and cautious, afraid to make mistakes by completing a simple request—and the boy was probably watching you carefully. Your gaze lifted up to look at him a few times, to which you locked eyes with his own for a split second before continuing your work.

Mark’s face grew equatorially hot, like freshly baked bread out of an oven to the touch. He was embarrassed to be in such a delightful and cute patisserie in his track clothes. He was dressed in athletic wear, which were baggy polyester clothes, and his hair was an absolute mess as if he had recently awaken from a slumber that lasted for aeons. He cursed to himself for looking like an absolute mess in front of you, embarrassed and wanting to hide. His friends noticed his disposition after a couple of moments, registering his stammers and direct statements—oh, and the obvious pink that tinged his cheeks to two perfect peaches.

Donghyuck stood by Mark’s side as you arranged their macarons neatly, giving Mark an elbow to nudge him to make a move. Mark glared at his friend saying, “No, that would be weird. We just met here, and I look like this!” in an angry hushed tone.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to get her number for you?”

“No!” Mark exclaimed, territorial.

His voice caught your attention and you closed the box, turning your head over your shoulder to gawk at the spectacle. Jaehyun smiled in amusement as you remained dumbfounded to the entire scene that was unfolding behind your back. You pondered for a moment what they were possibly quarreling over, and a part of you hoped it was for the dashing man to ask for you number. You walked to the lower side of the counter, placing the plastic box of treats on the surface as you told them the total.

Donghyuck pushed Mark to the front, giving him the a-class opportunity to ask for your contact information—and to pay. But Mark was at a loss for words again. Each time his mind took a turn it only led to a dead end; you astounded him just from taking his order, and he felt helpless, his mind clouding with sweet strings of fairy floss. It was like he was spellbinded, latched onto you in an enchanted manner and he was unable to free himself—not that it was a problem for him. You waited, but he did not make any moves to even lift an arm to hand you the payment.

“Excuse me,” you paused and recalled his name that his friend had said earlier. “M-Mark?”

At that moment, his heart melted like chocolate out in the sun. Your words were the sweetest treat he had experienced within being inside the store, and he craved for more—to hear you say his name. “Uh,” he started again, “how do you know my name?”

“Your friend said it earlier. Sorry, did it bother you?” You frowned.

“No!” Mark waved his hands dismissively, assuring you of your worries. “I-I don’t mind. You can call me any time, actually.”

Jaehyun pressed a palm to his face as Donghyuck sustained his laughter; Donghyuck’s face contorted in amusement. Mark placed a hand over his mouth from what he had said, aware that it did not make the slightest bit of sense. “Sorry,” he said again. “I mean, well. I’m totally cool with people calling me by my name. It makes things more, uh, casual?” he fibbed, praying that it was a good enough cover.

You laughed at his attempt, brushing it to the side. “Okay, Mark. Your total is eight-twenty.”

Mark nodded and frantically slipped out his wallet, his adrenaline pumping like crazy as he handed you the money. “Here,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks”—you placed the money in the register and slid the container across the surface to the boys—“I hope to see you again soon, Mark.”

Mark beamed childishly, taking the container in his hand. “I’ll come back soon enough, uh—”

You looked down to your shirt, taking your nametag that was pinned on it in between your fingertips and held it out for him to see. “(y/n),” you told him.

“Right, (y/n). Wow, that’s pretty…” he mumbled. “Ah! I mean, these desserts are pretty! I-I’ll be back soon… yeah!” Mark started to take a few small steps away from the scene. “Thanks!”

Then, he exited the store, giving you one final look from the corner of his eye as he stepped out of the savory store. His friends bursted out in a fit of bubbly laughter when Mark was out of their presence, entertained by his scene. “Sorry,” Jaehyun told you. “He’s like that when he’s nervous.”

“And it’s really hilarious!” added Donghyuck. “We’ll see you later, thanks again.”

With that, the two boys followed Mark out the sugar shop, leaving you with nothing but wonder to Mark’s actions, and words. You never realized the blush that was on your face until you caught your semi-transparent reflection from the glass case, and you certainly did not catch the way your smile never faltered from your expression throughout the entire duration of meeting Mark.

You stood at your counter, chin propped in your hand as you imbue the image of him in your mind. He appeared to be straight out of sports practice, yet he held the appearance of a divine being. You wondered then, why would he be nervous? When would be the next time would return? A boy as sweet as that was bound to come back, right?

Glancing out the window to see if he and his group of friends were still in sight, you leaned and leaned, tumbling in shock to the case when your manager catches your attention with a sour exclamation of, “Wipe the tables down, please!”

You shook your head, dragging it out of its gum-like gutter, and grabbed a towel before scurrying to the deserted tables. You wiped the surfaces in large, light circles, your head still turned to the windows to catch a glimpse of the boy and his friends, but they were already off. You sighed, pursing your lips into a pout, and continued to clean the tables.

Outside the store, Mark was dragging his two friends back, his heels digging into the concrete as if it would anchor him from their rugged movement. Mark’s face had blossomed from a small, gentle pink to a heated vermillion—a small bud blossoming into its full flower. But rather than flourishing under showers of rain, the flustered parts of Mark grew from his friends’ incentives for him to return to ask for your number.

“I said,” Mark huffed, “no!”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes and took another step closer to the pastry store. Passerbys that brushed alongside the dramatic scene being created eyed the group of three boisterous boys engaging in their own quarrel. Donghyuck ignored the strangers as Jaehyun grinned at them, as if it would have him pass off seemingly normal.

“You just have to go back inside and ask for her number, or a date. It’s pretty simple,” encourages Donghyuck. He tried to take a few more large steps towards the store but Mark, with a compact grip around his wrist, tugged Donghyuck to his chest with much force—enough to have Donghyuck lose his balance and ram into Mark’s torso.

“I already said”—Mark took a deep breath of air, facing the impact on the concrete—“no! I-I can go back later when I look decent.”

Jaehyun bursted into a fit of bubbly laughter, entertained by his two friends’ argument. “Let Mark loose,” Jaehyun told Donghyuck. He took another macaron from the bag and bit into it with a loud crunch. “You already know when he gets like this he won’t change his mind.”

“Yeah!” Mark spat out, agreeing mindlessly with Jaehyun.

Donghyuck groaned, lifting himself up and giving Mark a helping hand to get him back on his feet. “Fine. I just wanted to help ‘cause this is the only time I’m offering,” Donghyuck grumbled.

Mark grinned at his two friends nervously, his smile cracking as he assured them with a frantic nod of his head. “I got this, bros. Don’t worry.”

“Of course you do.” Jaehyun commented, “You’re a pretty sweet dude on the inside.”

The three boys began to walk back to their dorms, moving on from the annoying conversation topic to convince Mark to muscle up bits of courage to complaining about track events. Despite the athletic thread of words that left Mark’s mouth, his mind was elsewhere, thinking about you and the scene that had occurred. He felt outrageously silly; the moment he had created with you, the lasting first impression, was nothing but raw embarrassment for him.

He wondered if you interest was genuine, or if it was a part of your job to have extremely friendly service; nonetheless, he was not able to stop thinking about you.

Jaehyun had a point stated earlier: that Mark was an amiable, wholesome guy inside. In fact, he was sweet inside and out. Like if one were to peel off the skin of a peach, only a delectable saccharine would await. It only takes the lucky few to be able to get to his core, and you happened to be one Mark was willing to allow.

Mark took one of the final macarons and bit it as regret hung in the air. The burst of lemon and citrus danced on his tongue instantly, the feeling of flavor coating his tongue a sensation like no other. It was delectable, different, and he was hooked to the dessert—and another factor.

As others were hooked to the sweetness and tang of the treats from your patisserie, Mark Lee was interested in something else—someone who carried the same amount of sugar of a plethora of desserts.

The next day appeared quicker than Mark had expected, but the duration of it was slow, as if time was purposely not on his side. Mark had attended his classes dutifully, took notes during lectures and was attentive like the stellar student he was. Frequently, when his mind drifted away he would recall you. Usually when individuals have an encounter in a similar manner to what he had with you, the patron would forget the identity of the worker within a couple of hours. Though, as if your features were carved onto the stone of his mind, he remembered your appearance pristinely, despite you not looking like you were at your peak.

Eagerness was what fueled Mark’s flame throughout the entire day. There was an ache to taste those sweet pastries again, and a shameless craving to see you once more. Sublime tangs of citrus from the macarons still rested on his tongue and it was not satisfactory enough to last a good week. So, he made the choice mid-lecture to return to the patisserie for some more sweet treats.

Directly after his lecture he jogged to track practice with a grin on his face, hopeful and gathering the courage to follow through with his constructed plan. He found his two friends on the track, who were bound to laugh at his face when he voiced it out.

Donghyuck shielded his eyes from the sun, casting a penumbra by his hand hovering over his eyes. “Hold on, you’re going back? You do realize that’s another long walk downtown, and more money being spent to get more desserts, right?”

“Yeah,” Mark said while nodding his head. “But I’m going to get her number today for sure.”

Jaehyun chuckled from the turf, tying his shoes as he looked up to the younger boy. “Are you dragging us with you this time?”

Mark forced a frown, making his annoyance to their comments perceptible. “No, because then you guys would soil my plan.”

“What’s your plan?” asked Donghyuck, belittling his friend’s plan from the start. The nonchalant look that was plastered on his face was a sign for Mark, screaming ‘impress me.’

Mark steepled his fingers at his chin, chuckling. He puffed his chest out in a confident manner and had a gargantuan grin tugging at his lips. “So, I’m going to walk in with a decent outfit on—my game at its best—and go to the counter. When she greets me I’ll smile at her and go, ‘(y/n), right?’ And—”

“Hold on”—Donghyuck raised his hand in the air, pausing Mark’s excited word flow—“that sounds like you hardly remember her name.”

“But doesn’t it sound cool?” Mark questioned, clueless. “I was going to lean on the counter and everything.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, chiming in with, “You’re going to look like an a-class asshole. What are you going to wear, your leather jacket as well?”

“No!” Mark detested. “My hoodie—can you guys let me talk?”

Mark’s two friends looked at each other with the same mutual expression, each raising an eyebrow, aware of how Mark’s “pristine” plan would turn out.

Mark nodded, continuing on his tangent, “Her response would be, ‘Yeah, that’s me. What can I get you today?’ So then I’d reply with what I want, asking her if it was the sweetest treat in the store. Whatever her answer would be, I’d say, ‘Probably not as sweet as your personality.’

“That’ll make her blush, right? She’d be at a loss for words and at the cashier when I’m paying for the pastries I’d say, ‘It’d be pretty sweet if I could get your number too!’”

Mark was acting animatedly, his hands expressing as much enthusiasm as his face. For some reason, hearing his plan aloud was not as poised as he imagined, but he was still under the false belief of it being foolproof. His two friends were narrowing their eyes as if they were searching for the underlying motive of his plan between seams, struggling to discern what made Mark believe that idea of his was pristine. Then, with a slap on their thighs, they were shaking with vociferous laughter.

Donghyuck’s guffaws were enough to fold him over and lose his balance; soon, he joined Jaehyun on the turf in a struggle to gain their breath back. Mark was never one for hopeless romance, yet there he was struggling to piece together the perfect puzzle of a plan—in the worst way possible.

Mark was dumbfounded to their reaction. “What?” he questioned.

Jaehyun took a deep breath, finally regaining his composure as he wiped the tears that began to form at the corner of his eyes. “Dude, I’m sorry, but you should have let Donghyuck ask for her number for you.”

Mark tilted his head, confused. “Why?”

Donghyuck lifted himself back upright, straightening his posture as he said, “Because so many things can go wrong with your plan. Are you sure you don’t want us to go with you—maybe motivate you to do something more… normal?”

Mark held a wide stance, a tight-lipped smile dancing on his solid expression. The track coach called out to the three boys who appeared to be clambering on the turf, like loiters on a foreign territory. The three boys began to jog to their coach, still amused by Mark’s recent episode.

“I’m sure,” he confirmed in between pants. “Trust me guys, I got this.”

Jaehyun chuckled. “Alright, but if things don’t go according to plan you have to—”

“Wait, what if you guys come along and give a good word for me?” Mark proposed, the light in his eye now a hopeful glint.

Jaehyun grumbled, kicking up the pace of his dash towards their coach.

Mark watched in incertitude his friends jogging away from him, mind heaped. He had spent an entire lecture attempting to think of a way to get closer to you, to make the first step, and that was the best he was able to construct. Though, his best might not be the favorable option—as his friends tried to make clear. What was Mark supposed to do, though? He ruffled his hair and went straight to practice, attempting to pour his attention into gaining speed and hopping over hurdles.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

After another enervating practice Mark was out of breath, barely able to find the strength to walk properly to the locker room and tidy himself up. Track practice was already taxing, but he was more than sure that the plan he had fabricated would wilt him down as well. He was scurrying in the locker room, giving himself a quick rinse and tossing on his clothes as if he was racing against time.

The other members in the track team eyed him discreetly, each conjecturing why the track star is moving so hastily despite the frazzling practice. Jaehyun had just finished splashing cool water onto his face, drying it out with a towel as he asked Donghyuck, “Is he seriously gonna go through with the plan he told us?”

Donghyuck slipped on a clean tee, his head turning over in Mark’s direction who was then styling his damp hair. Mark appeared to move with an immense amount of precision to perfect his hairstyle, desiring to look presentable in front of the pastry worker.

“Knowing Mark,” Donghyuck sighed, “probably.”

Jaehyun bit his lip, worried for his younger confrere. “Good luck to him then.”

Mark was slanting his head in all sorts of angles in front of the locker room mirror, checking to see if his locks were quintessentially styled. He flashed himself a crooked grin, taking in his reflection, and it assured him of his thin distress. Mark ran to fetch his bag, bidding his friends a quick goodbye as he began to run out the door.

Waves of heat were visible in the distance, and it layered over his body, causing him to break out in a minor sweat. Mark paced himself to get to the pastry store, preparing himself for his plan every step of the way. Though the more he thought about the plan—speaking to you for the second time—he almost loses it. His heart beated rapidly, lips ran dry and he moistened them with a quick swipe of his tongue. He attempted to distract himself with the familiar architecture, taking in buildings’ details until he managed to be a foot away from entering the pastry store.

Once he was, he stared at the inviting entrance for a prolonged period of time, unable to muscle up the smallest bits of his courage to build a solid ground. He felt as if he was walking on a frail wire, and the slightest incorrect movement would send him tumbling down.

It did not occur to him that his sinewy figure was blocking the only way to enter the store until he heard a gruff, annoyed noise of several hungry individuals clearing their throats.

Mark uttered broken apologies and opened the door for the group of people, realizing that his palms were now clammy. He smiled at the individuals who walked inside, his expression cracking the more his nervous wrecks stacked upon one another. It felt like the electricity that kept him drawn to you had been short-circuiting, and he was afraid that the connection would cut out for good. So, he took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

He tugged at his hoodie and wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead, giving his reflection off the patisserie window a quick look before waltzing inside. The recognizable scent of cinnamon and strawberries kissed the tip of his nose, wrapping around his body like open arms that welcomed him back home. He was clutching on the strap of his bag, breaths becoming shallow as he approached the counter and joined the line. He was recalling bits and pieces of his assembled plan, rehearsing the scripted scene in his mind over and over until it was his turn to order. Mark was shifting his weight back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels, impatient to talk to you again. He was leaning from his place in line, aching to see you work the counter, and there you were.

It was a momentary glimpse of you clad in your uniform, but it was enough for Mark to forget how to breathe. His breath was held in his throat like it was tying itself in knots with the words he wanted to say and his mind emptied itself of anxieties, worries, and excitement—because the sight of you again was catching a glimpse of heaven.

Mark brought himself back to reality when it was his turn to order, but his feet would not move from where he stood. They were rooted in the wooden floors and he was standing so far off the edge of his brittle emotions.

You were wiping your hands with a damp cloth as you said, “Hi, what can I get for—”

But your words were cut short the moment you saw the man who was standing before you. It was the student from yesterday, a recognizable face that you can pair with the name that replayed in your mind over and over like a broken record throughout your shift. You were wondering if he was going to return; if the interest he had displayed the day prior was genuine, and he did. Your body tensed up at the sight of him, blotches of heat forming at your cheeks.

Mark swaggered closer to the counter, leaning against the glass as he said, “(y/n), r-right?”

His cheeks were swirling with pink again; you began to think that it was a natural, gifted blush that he was graced with. The nature your name left his lips felt natural, as if he had met you countless times in the past and this was just another one of those frequent encounters. You nodded your head and smiled. “Yeah. Um, sorry, but can you not lean on the glass case?” you requested.

Mark startled at your words, his plan already going off in its unintended tangent. Like thunder had stricken his body, he jolted out of place and waved his hands in the air to dismiss his behavior. “I-sorry,” he muttered.

You giggled, amused by his flustered self. “Anyway, what can I get for you, Mark? We have a fresh batch of macarons from the recent hour—and you can guess who baked it,” you informed with a wink.

Mark opened his mouth, excited to voice out the next line of his plan until he realized something. “I-you remember my name?”

You tilted your head, using your hands to lean on the counter. “Well how could I forget? You were only here yesterday.”

“Oh, r-right,” he stuttered. Mark shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, twiddling his thumbs together.

A thorough stare full of stupefaction was being exchanged between you and Mark; momentary silence had lapsed. You had completely forgotten that you were working the counter of the pastry store, dressed messily in an apron with your hair pushed back yet again. You adored the way Mark looked in a plain black hoodie; it was a completely different look from how you first saw him. The distant chatter that was music to the area was nothing more but white noise the longer the scene had escalated with Mark—the period of serene quietude.

You dragged yourself back to earth, asking him once more, “What would you like today?”

Mark perturbed at your question, voicing the first thoughts that came to his mind. “Ah, those macarons would be nice.”

“Same as yesterday?” you questioned, grabbing onto a plastic container. You took the tongs in one hand and slid the glass case open, waiting for his final order.

“Yeah!” Mark blurted. “Same as yesterday—my friends really love this store too. I’m just getting them some snacks for tomorrow.”

You smiled, filling up the container with the same order as yesterday’s. “That’s nice of you.”

You arranged the macarons neatly, in the same uniformed style as the day before, and avoided eye contact with the boy. Mark’s gaze was perusing the drink menu, admiring the chalked handwriting on the board as a diversion away from you. The bits and pieces of his formulated plan slipped away, and soon he was on another road that was divergent to the original.

Mark clutched his fists and quickly bursted out, “What else is sweet here? A-aside your…”

You tilted your head up to gawk at him, completing his sentence as you close the container. “Aside these macarons?” you asked with glee.

Mark wanted to press a frustrated palm to his face, annoyed at his reluctance to finish his line. Instead, he grinned, hoping that his embarrassment was not written on his face. Maybe it was just to him, but the air all of a sudden went thick, hard enough for him to breathe properly. “Yeah,” he confirmed, dragging out the word.

Your eyebrows raised and you looked at him past your lashes, walking to the opposite side of the glass case as he followed on the other side. “These fruit tarts are also really good! Well, they’re not the sweetest, but they do taste incredible! If you really want something sweet, then I think you’d like something else instead…”

Mark gulped at your final statement, his imagination running wild. It was an open window for him to say his pick-up line. He puffed his chest out, trying to prepare himself to blurt out ‘Like your sweet personality? Or your sweet appearance?’ but nothing left his mouth. Words were knotted in his throat the same way his heart leaped to it, rendering him speechless as he was unable to do anything else aside watch you lovingly.

But Mark carried on anyway. “Like your”—he locked eyes with you again, immediately becoming flustered at the sight of you and skewed out of the indigenous road—“c-cakes?”

“Yeah!” You beamed. “Our red velvet cakes are pretty good, unless you’d like to try our lemon bites.”

The manner you were speaking was not to convince Mark to purchase more sweets, but to suggest some favorable items on the menu; though, to Mark, he acted upon your opinion and impulsively said, “I can get both—I can share it with the guys on the track team!”

You clapped your hands together and found delectation in his words, granting his order immediately. “Wow, you’re so kind. I’ll have them packed for you and I can meet you at the cashier,” you told him.

Mark nodded and rapidly made his way to the cashier, his fingertips dancing on the marbled surface as he waited for you to return. It did not dawn on him that he forgot the main reason he was there until he saw the amount of desserts he had purchased, for his team apparently. His expression remained unmoved and soon he was disappointed in himself, regretting for not allowing his two friends to tag along. Maybe if Jaehyun and Donghyuck were by his side Mark would of had the courage to ask for your number first thing—without beating around the bush and obtusely purchasing extras.

Your back was facing him as your quivering hands packed his goodies. A sheepish smile was tugging at your lips and you moved slowly, waiting for your heartbeat to slow down to a normal pace, and for your face to wash out the coral hues that came upon quicker than waves crashing onshore. You high aspirations for Mark to return were fulfilled, but you were sowed onto at the start of crossroads; was he there for you, or to get more pastries for his friends? You want to avoid believing in the latter, or perhaps it was a mixture of both. Nonetheless, his presence disrupted your focus whilst working at the patisserie and you tried to calm yourself down by doing day to day tasks during your job.

When you placed the desserts neatly in a small paper bag you walked to the cashier, the same dazzling smile that entrances Mark etched on your face. It seemed like it never diminishes and never had the ability to falter, and Mark mirrored it back. You slid the bag over the counter to him, telling him his total that internally unsettled him. He was rubbing his sweaty palms together as he waited for you to return his change, the question of asking for your number resting on the tip of his tongue, but not spiraling past it.

As you counted his change you wondered if it would be proper for you to ask for his contact information; though, it would not be professional during your job. You pouted and handed him his change, brushing your skin against his own. The current of electricity that was beginning to dim had sparked itself back to life from a simple action, and Mark moved clumsily. He took the bag in hand and shoved the change in his pockets, skipping the fact he had to neatly place it in his wallet.

“Thanks,” you and Mark said in unison.

Quiet laughter poured from your lips and the air was taken out of Mark’s lungs. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “T-thanks for the desserts.”

“And thanks for returning,” you told him.

You watched the way Mark bobbed his head as he took small, slow steps away from the counter; he seemed reluctant to leave, and unable to take his eyes off you like you were a picturesque view from the top of a sunny hill. It was not until he gracelessly bumped into the table and chair behind him for his mind to return to its proper balance. He cursed under his breath from appearing so gauche in front of you; hell, he even looked decent today as well but everything that left his mouth was the polar opposite.

Mark scurried to the door, opening it and hearing the familiar chime on cue. He turned his head back, glimpsing at the angel that worked the counter of the patisserie, and smiled. You were about to handle the next set of customers, but before you did you exclaimed a couple words to Mark.

Mark took a step out the door, freezing when he heard you say, “Come back soon! Okay, Mark?”

Clutching the handles of the decorated paper bag in one hand, he flashed you a thumbs up with another. His hand was a little shaky, and for once he thanked the distance to make it imperceptible to your eyes. “Of course!”

With that, he left the patisserie with nothing but a fluttering feeling in his chest caused by embarrassment, exhilaration—and you.

He stared at the bag in hand and peered at the contents within, sighing to himself. “God,” he whispered bitterly, “what am I gonna do with all of these?”

Morning soared by within a blink and Mark was his typical animated self, enlivening each student he bothered to converse with. He brought the bag of pastries with him to his lectures, ready to give the sweet treats to his friends during track practice—and prepared to face their mockery. As he was trudging to practice he could practically hear their petulant chortles and immature commentary to him straying from his, once flawless, plan.

Mark groaned, stretching his arms to the sky before fishing into the bag to grab a macaron. Angrily, he took a large bite of the treat and munched it down like it was a chore. “Something wrong?” asked a familiar voice.

Mark turned his head in an irksome style, the sight of Jaehyun awaiting him. Jaehyun eyed the familiar bag from the patisserie and his lips curved into a grin of expectancy, ready to hear Mark’s story. “How did it go yesterday? You know, with your perfect plan,” Jaehyun said, badgering on the younger boy unintentionally.

Mark grumbled and tossed the entire cookie in his mouth, chewing it indignantly and swallowing the entire remaining bits. “It went fine,” he fibbed.

“Doesn’t seem like it went fine,” Jaehyun laughed. He opened his mouth to make another witty comment, but Mark shoved the bag of edible delicacy to his chest, throwing the possession to him. “You bought this for us?” he asked instead.

“On accident,” he added rapidly. Mark’s face tinged with red again, his ears flushing madly. He gave the look a child would express when guilty, denying all accusations and queries. “I got distracted and bought more than intended.”

“Did you ever get her number though?” Jaehyun asked, peeking into the bag.

Mark was silent for a few seconds before he spat out, “I said I got distracted.”

“Bro,” Jaehyun sighed, “we tried to tell you that plan was stupid.”

Mark remained silent, unable to fight against his friend’s words. He was expecting Jaehyun to ramble on and on about being right, but instead Mark listened to the sound of Jaehyun digging through the bag and opening the container of macarons, taking a crunch of one of the delicious cookies. It took a while for him to carry on from the topic, but after a large swallow he broke out, “These are actually pretty good. You know, I sort of want to go back. Come with, I’ll be your moral support while I’m there!”

Mark blenched out of disgust towards Jaehyun’s proposition. As much as he would adore the support—needed the help—he had to ask for your number himself without distractions. Well, as if your features alone were not a substantial enough distraction for Mark anyway.

“You think she’ll question why I’m there three days in a row?” Mark avowed, “Because I would.”

Jaehyun placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Nah, dude. She’ll just appreciate the business. Come on, let me help you out!”

“No,” Mark shook his head and mumbled. “I think I have a new plan.”

Jaehyun halted his stride and looked at his friend in disbelief, an eyebrow cocking upwards out of interest. “What is it this time?”

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

Back at the pastry store, you had your elbows propped on the counter impatiently, chin cupped in your palm. You were watching the clock tick, listening to time pass by as the ring of the bell that hanged at the front door jingled. It was a slow day, not many customers present. Then again, the time period prior to the start of evening was always desultory.

Frankly, boredom was the only factor you had to worry about whilst working at the patisserie. Aside from the fear of messing up a batch of pastries, of course. You attempted to distract yourself by cleaning the counters and wiping tables to the point they were immaculate; it was a constant routine of sitting and waiting, and cleaning and lounging.

Typically, you watched the clock and shrugged off the slow passage of time—until late afternoon rolled around. When business was starting to kick itself up, that was the time Mark showed up to your patisserie, or maybe it was a blatant assumption from the two days you had noticed. Both times he was out of breath, and both he was a stuttering, flustered mess. You hoped that it was because he was a little nervous to talk to you, for that would mean he was equally interested in you the way you were in him.

But there was something that pricked at your mind that screamed otherwise.

You dug your face into your palms as you helplessly thought about him again. To scratch the image of Mark from your mind seemed like one of the many impossibilities in the world, but it was as if his beauty was carved onto the walls of your brain, marking his appearance there for a good while. And maybe that was why you were hooked. His hair messily styled intentionally, the attire he chose to wear—how it went straight from a sweaty track practice outfit to modish street wear—and the graceful color of peach echo creeping onto his cheeks. It made your heart flutter to recall him and his gorgeous features.

And it also made your heart flutter knowing that he was going to return to your patisserie; but when?

Today, you managed to look decent: your hair was not pushed back for the specific hour and desired encounter, the apron was not dusted with a plethora of flour, and you swiped apricot gloss over your petal-like lips.

You were lost in thought until you heard the ring of the entrance, causing you to shoot yourself up and blurt out a welcome to the incoming guests. Princely hopes were high for one of the familiar patrons being Mark, but you were out of luck. With a puff of air you welcomed each guest and began taking their orders, preparing for the long hour before his arrival.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

It took a busy hour for Mark to make an appearance at your pastry store. He was preparing himself at the entrance again, building up valor to hold a decent conversation with you. Rehearsal after rehearsal of his new plan, his mind reminding himself to not get distracted and purchase more pastries, he finally had the strength to dutifully exhibit his gallantry.

Mark entered with a ruckus, accidentally swinging the door open with too much force and hitting a nearby chair, sending it a few inches forward from its spot. His gasp was marked on time with the jingle of the store bell.

“Welcome to—”

Mark was leaning against the door, a bright grin etched on his face as he attempted to quickly cover from his messy scene.

“Welcome back,” you corrected, a smile dancing at your lips.

You began to finish the current customer’s order expeditiously, rapidly exchanging goods and money, and scurried to the opposite side of the floor to greet Mark.

“Welcome back,” you blurted.

Mark tilted his head, confused. “You already told me that.”

“Oh.” You turned your head away, unable to fight the blush of embarrassment that began to creep onto your cheeks. It was a momentary glance, but it was enough for you to catch the perfection he was wearing. A simple outfit, it was, but he looked incredible in a plain white tee and black ripped jeans.

The boy laughed and said, “Of course I’m back.”

“Three days in a row.” You grabbed onto a nearby rag, fiddling with it as a way to relieve your fragments of nervousness.

Mark thought aloud, leaning forward to the glass case as if he wanted to inspect each dessert. “Third time’s a charm,” he thought aloud.

You hummed, attempting to decipher his words. He was not mistaken. It was the third encounter with the charming, young boy and you hoped it was the time your courage would seep past your shell. “For what?” you questioned him.

“Uh,” Mark hesitated, “nothing. I just really like the pastries here.”

“And that’s why you keep coming back?” you edged on. A part of you hoped for him to continue on with your thread of words; the other wanted to cower from being far too abashed.

Your hopes were satisfied when he said, “I come back for someone too.”

You were tongue-tied, mind unable to think coherently the longer he lingered in your presence. There was a saccharine scent that hung in the air, and it was not the typical swirl of cinnamon and strawberries, but a sweetness that emitted off the boy before you.

Staring at Mark Lee, the only separation being the glass case, he managed to look greater each day, endearing by the second. Unable to fight your imaginative aspirations, you thought that you and Mark were the perfect ingredient for each other.

Mark’s raging heart was erratically pounding against its ribcage, aching to be set free from its confinement. The way you were gawking at him made his stomach twist, and peachy hues to chase onto his face.

“Your face is always pink,” you commented risibly. “You’re lucky to have a natural blush like that.”

Mark startled. “N-natural? Oh, it’s not—I mean, yeah. T-thanks,” he stammered.

Mark egged on his thoughts to find their way to his voice. He was badgering his own being to go through with his plan of complimenting you, the dashing pastry worker, and then saying ‘I love seeing these sweet treats, but I want to see more of this sweet girl.’ He would then follow through by asking for your number to schedule a date, but recalling Jaehyun’s words that battered on Mark’s plans, he felt discouraged.

“Would you like the usual order?” you asked him, interlocking your fingers together.

Mark nodded, mesmerized by your appearance. It was the first he saw you without your hair pushed back, and you locks had fallen perfectly when you began to look down, reaching for a plastic container for his macarons. He swallowed his breath, lips parting at the sight.

“Are these for your friends again? How did they like the cake yesterday?” you asked him.

“Great! I-it was great—they thought it was delicious,” he spat out. Mark pressed a palm to his forehead, annoyed with himself. Gosh, he was making himself appear like a total mess. He was not even present to witness their reaction, what was going through his mind?

You slid open the glass case and reached for the macarons with tongs in hand. “I’m happy to hear that. I’ll pack a few extras—some new additions to our flavor chart—for you and them to try,” you informed. There was a thin thread of silence that had lapsed after your statement; you and Mark were both afraid to say another, to start a separate topic as if it would tumble the ground that was built down to rubble again.

Mark was standing across from you the entire time, following wherever your shadow went until it reached the cashier in silence. Instead of his head being blank from the sight of you, a trillion different scenarios of words flying out of his mouth was present, and he was unable to sort out what was the proper statement as he stood before you. His plan was long forgotten the longer the scene progressed; he was only capable of watching your movements, taking in each trivial detail.

You packed the macarons with care, sorting them neatly into the container with a gentle touch. Lush lashes that were a blanket on your eyes swept over the high point of your cheeks, a look of innocence provocative. An ache to break the silence prodded at your being, but it seemed as if the choice of words was tossed into a jar and shaken fervently, rendering you speechless. It was the day you bothered to look good—the day you finally asked for his number, or even to meet up after your shift, but you were far too hesitant to try.

You peered up at the returning customer for a brief moment, but a brief moment was all that was needed for your heart to pirouette like butterflies in the open. Mark’s gaze was elsewhere, perusing the menu, and the look of childlike curiosity was endearing to the heart.

At the cashier you slid over his plastic container filled with macarons and paused before telling him the total. He paid as if it was a formidable action, creating an artificial struggle to slip out his cash as a grueling method to stall time. Though, after what felt like hours, he finally slid the payment on the table and you took it out of his seize, giving him his change.

Mark had the container beneath his palms, the goodies still resting on the surface. His eyes were batting all over the place, his lashes like lush, onyx wings. His mouth was parted as a questioned lied on the tip of his tongue; you stared conscientiously at the parting—how inviting it looked, but you shook the thoughts out of your brain and opened your mouth to speak.

“Can I—” you both said in unison. You retracted, taking a step back and dismissively waving your hands. You urged him to continue and he clamped his mouth shut.

Mark announced, “Sorry, you first.”

“Ah, I”—your head turned to the front entrance when the chime rang, incoming customers with empty stomachs ready to have their cravings satisfied. You sighed, upset that you were still at work, unable to ask Mark for a future meeting, or any contact information for the time being—“I was just going to say ‘have a great day.’”

Mark’s smile, the grin that you thought would never falter, had diminished for a fraction. Disappointment filled the void that was created in his stomach; he was not sure what to expect. Immediately, he assumed his hopes were too high for you to question him for another encounter—to promise a fourth meeting elsewhere. But he struck out three times, and he was nothing but dispirited.

Mark clutched the plastic container in his hand and crinkled his nose. “Thanks,” he hesitated, beginning to walk to the exit. He brushed by your incoming customers, sight not leaving your bustling figure as you washed your hands and prepared for the group. Your back was facing him and he muttered, “You too.”

You were drying off your hands when the final thought appeared in your mind. “Oh!” you reminded yourself. “Mark, come back soon—”

But he was already two feet out the door, the entrance closing and the chime ringing—a signal that you missed your chance, yet again. You pouted, pushing your hair back with a headband as you greeted the new faces with a feigned expression of jocularity.

Mark did not return to your pastry shop the next day—not that you expected much for him to do so to begin with.

You pondered if the fractions of chagrin were truly sketching on his face as he made turned his back to leave the patisserie, and his absence confirmed everything. With your elbows glued to the counter, chin propped in your hand as your method to pass time, whilst staring at the ticking clock, you waited for an occurrence that was never going to arrive.

Mark’s arrival to the lively patisserie was a mood-lifter for you, a stimulant that brought out genuine optimism and outshined the shadows of dread that began to form. You really were unsure what—it was about Mark—that drove you crazy for him. Well, if one considered that people like him were a rare advent that seemed to occur every blue moon, it was prominent enough. Mark appeared like a typical boy-next-door the moment he walked in; despite wearing clothes dampened with sweat and hair far too ruffled to pass off as decent, he still caught your eye with his innocent, young features. And his personality—the way he had displayed himself—sold you in for him completely. His candy-coated words drew you in like it was an enchantment, and there was an unconventional, stupendous sweetness that danced on your tongue each time he spoke.

He, as a whole, was breathtaking.

As the days continued to progress, one absence leading to another as the twenty-four-hour period rolled by, you started to fall under the umbrella of assumption that Mark was not going to return any time soon.

✾  ✾   ✾  ✾

“You’re trying too hard!” exclaimed Jaehyun, swatting Mark’s back as they walked together to practice. It had been a good four days since Mark had last seen you; he had been dodging his friends’ questions like crazy, and he had not been vocal about the occurrence, or his feelings, until Jaehyun egged on him with all his might.  “Just take it easy and go with the flow. Things will all come together afterwards.”

Mark rolled his eyes at Jaehyun’s comment, annoyed at it as well as himself. Maybe it was the wrong choice to expose the truth to Jaehyun. Just a few minutes ago Mark had torn down his stellar act and unleashed the true, honest sweet boy he was. Words poured from his lips like a cascade from a prodigious deluge, tackling how he missed his chances, thoughts wither to nothing like his plans, and how you appeared galled at his exasperating attempts to catch your eye. At first Jaehyun laughed, for the situation was far too risible. After all, putting it in Jaehyun’s words, Mark had came back three days in a row to a pastry shop for a girl—but came out with everything but her.

Mark mumbled, “You’re kidding, I thought girls like pick-up lines?”

“Not lines like yours.” Jaehyun patted Mark’s back again and then tugged him closer by his sleeve. “Listen to me, just listen to me once and see how things will go.”

“Can you go with me for moral support?” Mark requested innocently.

Jaehyun chuckled, continuing his quick stride. “That was an offer for four days ago, not today. You’re on your own buddy.”

“Gagh,” Mark let out, stretching his arms to the sky. “You know, Jae, what if I mess up the flow?”

“You don’t mess up the flow—one does not simply mess up the flow,” he said, creating air-quotes with his fingers. “You’re seriously trying too hard. Imagine what Donghyuck would say to you right now!”

Mark was becoming incensed with himself as Jaehyun gave him a piece of his own plan. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“Mark,” Jaehyun smiled over his shoulder to the younger boy, “you got this. Go back there, pretend you’re at the patisserie for the macarons again—you’ve done it three times, you can do it again—then drop the question.”

Mark gripped onto the strap of his duffel bag, releasing the remaining bits of anger onto the simple action. “Fine,” he breathed. “I’ll go right after practice.”

Jaehyun grinned. “Get me the lavender-honey macarons, by the way! I heard they’re a new flavor.”

Mark felt a vigorous urge to eat his words, for he was acting without his brain again. He had to prepare himself to face you again, but the three hours of track practice was not enough for him to collect pieces of his mind out of the gutter. Tenacious as he was, he was not capable of pushing himself to go back to the patisserie you work at. Occupied minutes built into hours faster than expected, and they stacked onto three hours—of him being insistent.

Inside the locker room Mark was pacing back and forth, glimpsing at his face in the mirror and directing his gaze towards his quivering digits. Exchanging the air deeply with his lungs as a measure to calm him down, he recalled Jaehyun’s words—the advice he thought he would never take. “Am I really trying too hard?” he whispered to himself, bitterness evident in his tone. “With my plans, maybe…”

Jaehyun and Donghyuck were joking around with the rest of the members on their team on Mark’s flustered self, each surprised to their own extent at how Mark had withered down into a gentle boy. Mark, the stellar track star who was confident in all, lacked in the department of courage when it came to a girl—a heavenly body that was you.

“I’m telling you,” Jaehyun whispered to his teammates, “he needs to stop coming up with plans.”

Donghyuck chuckled. “Knowing Mark, he cannot act without a plan.”

“It’s different for track,” muttered Jaehyun. “And besides, look at where that had gotten him—”

Mark groaned, digging his face into his palms. The sound of exasperation echoed throughout the area, bouncing off the walls. He walked a lap around the entire locker room before grabbing onto his bag and heading straight out the door, preparing himself for the fourth, and unpromised, encounter.

His teammates each shared a fit of bubbling laughter, utterly amused by Mark’s display. After all, to have their poised, sanguine coach exhibiting his softer side—it was a sight not many would expect, or even catch.

Mark was constructing different lines in his mind, each separate depending on where the situation with you might lead. He was ready, not leaving room for fault, and took many deep breaths. He knew it from the first encounter that he wanted to get to know you more—it was a feeling that had his heart race, air spun out of his lungs—and he acted by it cautiously. He gawked at his reflection off the windows of buildings he passed occasionally to check his outfit, to hair as if the wind was to disrupt his locks, and huffed.

Mark was almost at the patisserie.

You were staring at the clock again, catching a glance every so often as you got through the major deal of hungry customers. Sweat was dripping from your temples as your hands worked at a speedy pace; you packed their orders dutifully; your focus still managed to disrupt. It was far past the time Mark would arrive, and you were not sure why you had high hopes of him appearing; after all, he had not made a grand entrance for four days. You sighed, finishing off the recent customer at the cashier and handed them their order, wiping your sweat off with a towel. Giving your hands a quick rinse, you told the customer that stood by the counter, “Be there in a second!”

There was no response.

You gulped, afraid that you might have an angered customer, but when you turned around after wiping your hands dry all the fear had blossomed into a surprise.

It was Mark—of all people who decided to show up. Your eyes instinctively went to the clock, and you were well aware that it was past his designated time that he usually arrived. “Mark!” You thought aloud, “I’m glad you came back.”

Mark startled. “I—you, what?”

Iotas of bashfulness came to you within a heartbeat, like the mere sight of him was the major trigger to bring down your walls and reveal your true self—the you that admired Mark in several ways. You approached the glass counter, leaning a little to see if there were any customers behind him; to your luck, there were none.

You smiled at the familiar face, and the galvanized boy grinned brightly at you.

“You’re back,” you told him. “W-we have a new flavor of macarons. Honey lavender!”

Mark laughed. “Yeah, Jae told me he heard from a couple of people. I’m actually here for some of those…”

It was hard to keep your smile pressed on your expression. He truly was back for the pastries—and not you, you assumed. “Great. Um, how was practice?” You motioned to his bag.

Mark had a sudden invigoration, gawking down at his duffel bag. His hands flew to the thick strap, gripping onto it to relieve the prodding fragments of embarrassment. But he let go, taking a deep breath. “It was fine. I had stuff on my mind for the past few days.”

You waited patiently for him to continue.

Mark was rubbing his clammy palms together, his eyes scanning the menu as a ploy to avoid yours, and his face was already tinging with a pastel pink. He tried to muster up all the courage within him, attempt to draw the right words and thread them together intricately to form the perfect question, but there was nothing but silence chasing the scene.

You stood across the counter from him, your fingers drumming on the marbled surface in heated anticipation for his words. You tried to fight the smile that crept to your face, but it surfaced nonetheless from excitement of seeing the boy once more. You swallowed your breath as Mark ate his words, nervous.

“I had someone on my mind,” he added.

The feelings you wanted to hide, the ones you attempted to store away in a vault, had bursted out. He was referring to you—he had to be.

But, you mindlessly drove away from the topic. You commented with a quirk of your lips. “You must really like our pastries.”

Mark shook his head and pursed his lips. “N-no—I mean, yeah. I do! But there’s something else here I like—you know, someone.”

Then, after hearing the bell of the entrance ring due to an incoming customer, it was as if the question had sprung to his mind. Mark opened his mouth, scared to speak, but even more terrified of your response. “(y/n), I was wondering if, um—well you see…” he began.

You tilted your head, trying to latch onto what he was trying to say. You wondered if he was finally going to ask the question you had been aching for, if it would be as satisfying as a sweet treat.

Mark smiled, anxious, and he began to twiddle his thumbs together. Soon, his eyes met yours and his mind went blank—it was a white canvas all over again that began splattered with the beautiful colors of your appearance, and personality. You were dressed in a casual outfit once again underneath that powdered apron, and your hair was pushed back in a flawless manner—it was not your best appearance, but it was enough to drive Mark insane. He felt himself get a sugar rush from glancing at you and your candy-coated lips.

“Is… everything alright?” you asked him, bringing him back to reality. “You’re really red.”

A skittish smile danced at Mark’s lips as he responded with, “You are too.”

Your eyes widened at his comment. You pressed a palm to your cheek, feeling your warm temperature; the blush was evident, painted on your face like summery emulsions. Then, you were just as embarrassed as Mark.

“W-what can I get you today? We have some freshly baked macarons, so you came just on time for those… Ah-but you already told me that you wanted the honey-lavender…” you told him, trying to avert away from the topic. Your heart was beating rapidly; it ached to free itself from its cage as you tried to act decent in front of the customer. You grabbed onto wooden tongs and prepared yourself to take his order. “Sorry, what would you like? I was wondering about something else.”

Mark hummed in thought. Your simple greeting, question lingered in his mind. Your voice was sweet—it was a treat itself, and he wanted to take more. “Yeah, I was wondering if”—Mark stopped to take a deep breath, calming himself down by eyeing the pastries; he finally mustered up every ounce of courage that resided within him—“you’d like to go out sometime?”

Your smile remained in place, expression ran niche as you took the time to comprehend his words. Did he just ask you on a date? Your mind was not able to wrap around that fact; you were ecstatic, excited to be living your fantasy. The heat in your face increased immensely and your heart started to pound erratically. It was enough for you to take a small step back and drop the wooden tongs to the immaculate floor.

“You, what?” you asked for clarification. You thought this was a dream that had spurred itself to life; like a princess finally living her fairytale.

Mark cleared his throat and puffed his chest out, his eyes meeting yours attentively. “I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date sometime,” he confessed, taking things on the easier side—slow and steady.

Your face was hot, pink, and you wanted to dash away from the scene, but Mark’s gaze spellbinded you in stance, unable to even avert your gaze from his own. His voice was dulcet, each syllable that came out of his mouth was coated in its own organic sweetness. It was honey you ached to stir into your baked goods.

“I”—you fluttered your eyes, unable to even voice the evident response for a couple of seconds—“yes.” You smiled at him, your expression loosening. It was the question you spent days fantasizing about, if the athletic boy would come back for more than the delicious pastries that were offered at the store. And as if magic was real, the fantasy had become a reality. “That’d be nice.”

Mark’s eyes were clamped shut as he waited for your response, almost like a young child ready to get scolded for committing wrongdoings, but he experienced the opposite. His eyes flared open wide when you said yes; his stomach flipped and heart did pirouettes; a bright grin graced his face. “Really?” he asked.

You nodded your head, gushing. “Yeah,” you confirmed, your heart racing from glee. “After my shift.”

“W-when’s your shift over?” he questioned eagerly. Mark was bouncing on his feet, unable to calm himself down from your agreement. His voice began to raise and the tone of it became similar to an agitated child. Heads were turning his way, but he was unable to give the slightest care.

“In about ten minutes,” you informed him sweetly.

Mark beamed. “I can wait ten minutes. In the meantime”—his eyes scanned the bakery case, looking over the assorted macarons—“mind if I have two lavender-honey macarons?”

You picked up a clean set of tongs and picked up his order, placing it in a crisp white bag prior to handing it to him. “Of course, here you go.”

Mark reached over the counter to grab onto the bag; his hand brushed over your own and the sheer contact made you dizzy. He slipped out his wallet and paid for the goodies, but afterwards he remained rooted at the counter, directly across from you again. “Is something wrong?” you asked him.

“No,” he assured. “Here, take it.”

Mark unfolded the paper bag and grabbed one of the ordered contents from inside, holding it in between his thumb and index finger. The scent of lavender sweetness kissed his nose, and he held it out to you, a few inches away from your mouth. His head was turned the other way, lips were pursed in a childish manner as he handed you the macaron he had ordered.

“Wha—”

“I-it’s for you,” he interrupted.

Your gaze casted downwards to the treat, making your mouth water, and you thanked him for his kindness. You looked around the store, wondering if he was creating a spectacle for those to watch, but not a single soul was gawking. Willingly, you leaned to the macaron and opened your mouth, taking a bite as he held the dessert in the air.

“Thanks again,” you said in between chews, covering your mouth with a hand. With the other you took the remnants of the cookie, swallowing and finishing what was left.

“Any time, (y/n).” Mark started to walk to an empty seat by the window of the patisserie, a miniature hop present in his gait. You watched his bunny like motions and began to clean up the counter, then tend to the guests that soon arrived in search of delectables.

The smile that Mark had given you never left your face, as if it was a virus to have a positive expression to never falter. The grin that Mark forever kept was stained on your own being, and you worked diligently with happiness, at least until the end of your shift.

Mark was unable to help but gawk at you as you served the rest of the customers, your co-workers flying in and out to restock the glass counter with more treats. He was finishing his honey-lavender macaron, watching you as if you were a perfect girl ripped from a cinema—and to him, you practically were.

He hung his head low, refusing to believe that Jaehyun was right: Mark was trying far too hard, but the effort all paid off in the end.

When you finished your shift you walked right over to him, twirling to catch his attention. Mark shook his head as if it was a dream. Your hair was not pushed back and he had the full view of your casual outfit, without the messy apron, of course, manifest. Mark was well aware of your perfections, how no matter what attire you were to be clad in you would be the epitome of admirable. But still, Mark had, yet again, forgotten how to take a simple breath.

You caught the way Mark was marveling at your being, and his loving gaze made you feel discomfited. Taking charge of the situation, you greeted him with another, “Hey.”

Mark stuttered, catching his breath. “Hi there, (y/n). Uh, wow. You look stunning.”

“Thanks,” you said, unsettlement causing your voice to shake. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of your jacket, a purse hanging off your shoulder, and the lovely glow was lingering on your skin. Then, something came to your mind that made you giggle.

Mark tilted his head, confused—a silent request for you to elaborate.

You asked him risibly, the corner of your lips quirking upwards into a smirk, “So, do you actually like our pastries? Or do you like me?”

Mark chuckled at your inquiry; for once, an easy answer flew from his mouth as if he had been waiting for that question for ages. “Is both an option?”

You nodded your head. “Of course it is.”

“Then I like both.” Mark rose from his seat, tucking in the chair as he began to lead you out the door of the patisserie. He shifted his duffel bag around his physique awkwardly, bringing it to the back and making himself comfortable. You shadowed his being eagerly, excited and unable to fathom the recent turn of occurrences. All the work that had been spread out throughout a four-day span had compacted its effort into a single scene, a simple conversation, and you were unable to feel anything else but joy.

He opened the door for you, allowing you to step outside first before he joined your side, the familiar peachy tint creeping onto the apples of his cheeks. There was a period of silence, but it was not the awkward, stiff silence that was experienced through the first encounter or second—it was a comfortable quietude, a homelike feeling within each other’s presences. And as the feeling of home had erupted, there was a tangy modicum that appeared in your mouth.

A sweet taste rested on your tongue, and being by Mark’s side, sundry looking at him laudably, you realized it was the flavor of a new saccharine love.

[markberries]

stars in his eyes  ﹒  ml

info﹕mark lee was originally just a name to you — until the day you found out you had many connections with him.

genre﹕fluff, angst, comedy, slowburn, mark x f reader, slight yeonjun x reader, annoying bsf jaemin, university au

wc﹕21k+

warnings﹕mentions of underage drinking

an﹕omfg its FINALLY done. PLEASE ENJOY

when people hear the name mark lee, it’s almost as if a light bulb turns on in their head, the cogs of their brains rotating and immediately recognizing the infamous name. his heart was as big as his smile, although he was a little shy towards acquaintances, he has always been kind hearted and thoughtful towards everyone.

seeing mark lee was like an unspoken routine for people of your university; always late to his classes, people would see him running across campus, textbooks nearly falling out of his bag as he waved to friends he passed by. him being a music major, it wasn’t odd to see him sitting at a table on campus, headphones in his ears as he bounced his head to a song he was working on.

in all honesty, you had no connections to mark lee, or so you thought. he was just a name you knew, a face that you could point out in the crowd due to seeing the young man stumble throughout the uni halls. 

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” a voice says to you as you make harsh contact with them, knocking you down to the ground. you let out a huff of frustration, the stranger holding out his hand for you to take.

you look up, eyes meeting a pair of chocolate brown ones that belong to mark lee. your mouth was slightly parted, staring up at the young man. you reach out to grab ahold of his hand, him pulling you up gently. you dust off your knees, the boy clearing his throat.

“again, sorry,” mark mutters out, picking up the items that had fallen out of your bag when you had dropped to the ground. 

“it’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing the built up saliva in your mouth. the boy looks back to you, squinting his eyes, before they widen again and his mouth forms into an ‘O’ shape.

“i know you,” he states. you lift a brow, adjusting the strap of your tote bag on your shoulder.

“do you?” you reply casually.

“yeah, um, you’re y/n, right? i’m not sure if you remember but we met in high school? senior year?”

you were never good with recognizing faces, or names, and mark’s name didn’t seem very unique to you. you thought hard, trying to remember him, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on how you two had met.

“we like, made out at san’s graduation party?”

your face went a bright red, and you fought back the urge to bury your face in your hands.

san’s graduation party was the first time you had actually drank, and the times that you’ve taken sips out of your parents’ drinks does not count. you weren’t much of a rulebreaker, but you were so happy to finally be out of hell, that you downed seven shots that night (with no previous experience of being drunk, as you were seventeen). the memory of the night was foggy, but you distinctly remembered pulling the hand of someone else to an empty room, and locking lips with them.

“oh my god,” you say to yourself, recalling the events in your brain as you deadpan at mark’s face, “that was you?”

at this point, he’s sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, and you silently wished that mark hadn’t mentioned the party at all. mark laughs awkwardly, “i had no idea that you went here.”

“yeah, to be fair, i had no idea we went to high school together,” your face was hot, a pink tint was spread across your cheeks from embarrassment.

mark used to be a tad shorter, with an evident baby face and chubbier cheeks. he still had that same baby face, but with an enhanced facial structure. it was no wonder why you hadn’t recognized him in the first place. 

“it’s alright,” he says to you, clearing his throat. he checks his phone for the time, then glances back up to you. 

“i should get going, i’m probably going to be late,” he mumbles, grasping at the straps of his backpack. you nod, not knowing what to say next.

“see you around, mark lee.”

—

the next moment that you bumped into mark lee was on a saturday afternoon, when you were leaving your apartment that you shared with your friend, jaemin. you had just locked the door, before turning around to see mark lee walking out of the elevator, grocery bags in his arms as he fumbled to get his keys out.

“mark?” you say, and he slightly jumps at the sound of your voice, eyes darting over to you. his hair is disheveled, a black hoodie pulled over his head as he stared out of his black rimmed glasses. he reminded you of a lost puppy, an extremely socially awkward one.

“oh– hey, uh, y/n,” he manages to get out, trying to make his way to his apartment that was two doors down from your own.

“you live here?” you ask, a surprised tone coating your voice.

“yeah, i do,” he replies, awkwardly trying to unlock his door without letting the groceries fall out of his hands. you glance down at his keys, then back to him. his eyebrows are furrowed in frustration as his lips are formed into a frown. 

“need help?” you finally say, and he looks over to you with pleading eyes. 

“please?”

you walk over to him, taking the keys from his hands and quickly unlock the front door for him (you also take notice of the watermelon doormat that was under your feet), holding it open as he waddles in quietly, placing the groceries on the ground next to him so he can turn back to you.

“thanks a lot.. i would invite you inside but, it’s kind of a mess right now,” he admits, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head and telling him it’s fine. 

“welp,” you finally say, offering a kind smile to him. “guess we’ll be seeing much more of each other?”

mark thanks you once again, before softly closing the door as you walk away from his apartment. you exhale, eyes lingering on his front door for a short amount of time. you then turn back towards the elevator, pressing the down button, the arrow on the silver button lighting up a dim red.

maybe it had been too soon to say you had no connections with mark lee.

—

the third, unplanned meet up with mark lee was in the city public library, twenty-four hours later. you were tracing your fingers along the covers of sappy romance novels, searching for something new to indulge in for the next few weeks. you had read some of the classics, me before you, the fault in our stars, pride and prejudice, you felt as if the list went for hours.

reading for you was like time travelling or living another life (as it is for countless others), and you enjoyed the bubbly feeling that grew within the depths of your stomach when the main character and love interest finally got together. 

the romances that lay in the books you have read, was much different than the love stories you could tell about your life. in your opinion, dating was like work. finding someone you took an interest in, learning about them, developing trust together, only to not work out in the end, and then starting all over. it was a vicious cycle that you never took pleasure in partaking in, and you settled with the fact that maybe it was better to wait.

you had some experience with relationships, your first post-secondary boyfriend was a business major named jung jaehyun. he was handsome, kind, and not to mention he was awfully popular with the ladies. the one thing people did not warn you about before entangling your life with jaehyun’s, was how dedicated he was to school, and what he was willing to give up for it.

as most people can guess, jaehyun had ended it with you almost five months into your relationship, saying you were too distracting from his classes. you were never the type to try and interfere with someone’s life goal, so you didn’t fight the break up. 

relationships in university wasn’t your thing, after that. you believe that it was better for you to finish your studies, and then figure out what to do with your dating situation.

the love that was in books was so deceiving, yet so beautiful. they left everyone with high standards and unachievable objectives, so when your hand grazed against that of mark lee’s when reaching for the book, the time traveler’s wife, you nearly laugh at the cliche moment that usually only appears in that of a romance novel.

“oh sorry— y/n?” his voice chirps out, retracting his hand away from yours. you take the book off of the shelf, then you turn, looking at him.

“mark, hey,” you smile, holding the book out to him. “did you want this?”

“no, it’s okay,” he shakes his head, pushing the book gently towards your chest, returning the smile on your face with his own. “just looking around.”

“what brings you here?” you ask, attempting to make small talk with him. he begins pointing towards one of the library tables where a couple of boys, around your age, sat.

“my friends wanted me to come study with them, i ended up finishing up the assignments i needed done, got bored and decided to check out the romance aisle.” his eyes wander to his friends, then back to you. “funny how we keep meeting like this, though.”

you hum in agreement, wondering how many times you would be running into mark lee this week. 

“any recommendations?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the wooden shelving. you take a moment to scan the other books around you, before your eyes land on paper towns by john green. you swiftly pull the book out with a single movement, handing it to him.

“this is a good one for beginners,” you comment, and he stares at the cover for a small moment, but he’s quick to look back at you. mark felt like an open book to you, even if you barely knew the boy. his face went neutral, as if he was thinking hard, but then he began to speak, filling the short lived silence.

“could you listen to a song for me?” he blurts out, and your eyes widen out of surprise. 

“it’s like— a song i’m writing for composition, i need an unbiased opinion, and my friends would be too nice to say anything mean.”

“and what makes you think i’ll say something mean?” you ask, almost in a teasing manner. he begins jumbling up his words, obviously a little bit flustered.

“um, sorry, i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that we don’t really know each other—“

you laugh, placing a hand on mark’s shoulder, “i’m kidding. you can show it to me today, if you want.”

mark lets out an audible sigh of relief, then pulls out his phone from his jacket pocket. he unlocks it, opening the contacts app and giving the phone to you. you quickly punch in your information, handing it back to him with a smile.

“just text me whenever, and i can come over to listen.”

mark nods, putting his phone away again. “right, forgot that we’re practically neighbours. i’ll text you later then.”

the air becomes quiet again, mark’s grip on the book you handed him becomes tighter as he inhales sharply. “i should get back to my friends.”

“oh yeah,” you reply back, straightening out the wrinkles on your skirt. “i have to get back home as well.”

mark clears his throat, “see you later?”

“yeah, see you later,” you say, your eyes forming into small crescents.

—

you sat up in your bed, back resting against the cold, wooden headboard. your eyes were fixed on the words that were printed of your newly checked out book — a soft tune playing from your laptop in the background, lyricless for the sake of keeping you focused, but still calming. 

there’s a small amount of light peeking through your white window blinds, emitting from the pink and orange sunset. it set the serene mood for you, and it made it easier for you to pay attention to the novel that sat in your hands.

you tap your fingers on the book cover to the beat of the music. you cherished the days that you could sit back and relax without any disruptions, as any normal person would. there’s a small breeze that flows throughout your room through the small crack of your open window, whistling it’s way through the space. 

sadly, your perfect afternoon was ruined as your roommate, na jaemin, bursts through the door.

“what are you doing?” he asks casually, waltzing in with no care. he takes a seat at your white desk, bag of chips in hand. 

you sigh, taking a mental note of the page you were on, before placing the book down on your night stand. “reading. you ever knock?”

jaemin gives you a sly smile at the comment, “i never knock with you.”

“yeah, i know, still hoping that it’ll change,” you remark, crossing your arms over your chest. “so, what do you need?”

jaemin had been your roommate for nearly two years now, and you had grown accustomed to his shenanigans within the small household. he just loved gaining attention from you, and often asked you to hang out with him. you didn’t mind, but you would act like you did.

“wanna go see a movie later? i’m bored and have no plans,” he asks, chewing his snack loudly. you roll your eyes.

“cry about it, i promised mark lee that i would listen to a song he’s working on for a project of his,” you inform jaemin, and he snickers in response. 

“mark lee the music major? you two have something going on there? i’ve never seen you two together,” he tells you. you throw a pillow at him, smiling in victory when it hits him in the face. 

“no, we don’t. i just found out that we were old acquaintances, that’s all. i barely know the guy, we’ve only had like, a few conversations.”

“yeah, okay, whatever you say,” jaemin snorts. you throw another pillow at him, but this time, he dodges it. you hear a “ding” from your phone, and you’re quick to check it.

unknown number [5:27pm] hey, mark here

“who’s that?” jaemin asks, walking over so he can plop down onto your bed beside you, back against your headboard as well. he leans over, in an attempt to check the message.

“it’s mark,” you answer, earning a couple of eyebrow wiggles from him. you narrow your eyes at him, deciding whether you should ignore jaemin or hit his arm. you choose the latter, making him yelp in surprise. you stick your tongue out at him.

you [5:28pm] hi, what’s up?

mark [5:28pm] did you want to come over now? my roommate isn’t home

“ooh, his roommate isn’t home,” jaemin coos at you. you look over at him with a glare.

“wanna get hit again?”

“sorry!”

you [5:29pm] sure, just give me a little. ill be over in a sec

mark [5:29pm] okay :)

you sigh, getting up from your bed and grabbing a pair of white socks from a bin beside it, slipping them on.

“you’re gonna spend time with mark instead of me?” jaemin pouts, obviously trying to act cute. you cringe at him, throwing on a dark green hoodie.

“i would choose anyone over you,” you say jokingly, making jaemin try his best to pout harder at you. you make a fake puking noise, before heading out of your bedroom, towards the front door.

you slip on a pair of black slides, leaving your apartment and walking a few rooms down to mark’s suite. you knock a few times, hearing a bunch of rustling behind the white door shortly after. there’s the sound of footsteps, then the door unlocks and swings open. there he was, mark lee in all his might, standing in grey sweatpants and a white tee. he’s wearing the same round black rimmed glasses, the same glasses that you barely saw him wear at school.

“y/n,” he greets you with a smile on his face as he holds the door open for you, motioning for you to come in. his apartment was the exact same layout as your own, only it was much more minimalistic compared to your shared one with jaemin. you enter, taking your shoes off at the front.

there was not much to it, no paintings hanging from the white walls, no plants lying around, it was just a simple apartment. you walk further in, following close behind mark as he made his way to his own room. you bite your lip, asking yourself if it was weird to be in mark’s house.

when mark brought you to his room, you were amazed with the sudden change of atmosphere it held. he had smart lights on his walls, the type of smart lights that were shaped into triangles. they glowed a soft hue of blue, and he had instruments scattered around the area. 

two monitors for his computer sat on his desk, with a regular white keyboard, and a piano keyboard. he sat down in his chair, but not before pulling up a second, smaller chair, next to him. he pats the area, signalling for you to sit.

you happily oblige, taking a seat next to him. he makes a few clicks with his mouse, opening an application on his computer. you watch him diligently, staying silent as you didn’t want to distract him. finally, he turns to you, a black headset that was connected to his computer in his hands. he hovers it over the top of your head, before bringing it down to place it over your ears.

“tell me if it’s too loud, okay?” he says kindly. you nod your head, giving him a thumbs up. he takes it as an okay to start playing the song, and quickly presses the space bar with a loud “click” of the keyboard. 

when the music starts playing, mark eyes you carefully, looking for any sort of reaction out of you. he’s leaned back on his chair, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. you shyly smile at the attention he gives you, but you stay on task. you cross your left leg over the right, taking the headphones and pressing them closer to your ears.

the melody starts off soft, fading in from the background. it reminds you of the type of music you would hear in a pretty cafe, or something you would find in jaemin’s “chill” spotify playlist. then, the beat grows louder, but the escalation seems perfect to you. you anticipate a beat drop, sitting on the edge of your seat as you stare at the screen in front of you.

then finally, when the beat drops fifteen seconds in, mark’s voice comes onto the track. he’s singing in a low voice. you never would have imagined that mark had a singing voice in him. it was smooth and it made you bop your head to the beat. 

then, his rap came. it flowed so effortlessly, as if he didn’t even need to try. at this point, you were tapping your foot to the song and nodding your head, wishing you knew the lyrics so you could sing along. mark smiles at your genuine reaction, the feeling of nervousness seemingly overcoming him as he straightens his posture in his chair.

the audio mix was balanced, mark’s voice fitting well with the aesthetically themed music. it was soft and it was just him rapping and singing about the hardships in life, but it didn’t stop you from being astonished by how much talent the clumsy boy had.

you hadn’t noticed that you were smiling when the song had ended, a small one, but nonetheless authentic. you slowly removed the headset from your head, placing it on the desk in front of you. 

“honest opinion?” mark asks, wincing to prepare himself for any backlash he could possibly receive from you. 

“it was amazing,” you gush, bewildered by how he wasn’t famous yet. his face lights up, cheeks turning pink.

“your voice is just— wow. seriously, post this somewhere, to youtube or something.”

mark begins growing a tad shy from the shower of compliments you begin handing to him, and you can’t believe how humble he is. he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, a habit you noticed he had, his lips curling up into a smile.

“you really think so? you’re the only person i’ve shown this to.. so..”

“i’m serious,” you deadpan, beginning to stand up from your spot. “i could listen to this song all day.”

mark follows your actions, walking you towards the front door as you continue to give him feedback the entire way there. you slip your shoes back on, and he opens the door for you again.

“thanks for doing this y/n, it really means a lot,” he says to you, leaning against the door to hold it steady.

“any time.”

when you arrive back to your apartment seconds later, you admit to yourself that there’s a lot more to mark lee than what meets the eye. you find yourself a bit intrigued by his gentle and clumsy demeanour, wondering if he was still the same person when it came to being his friend or not. 

“that was a short date,” jaemin’s voice calls out loudly from his room. you rub your temples with your fingers, eyes closed while you kick your slides off. you let out a small “tch”, walking to your bedroom.

“it wasn’t a date!”

—

two days later, you tapped your foot against the concrete inside your university building, sipping on your third hot coffee of the day. your laptop sat in front of you, two words typed across the screen for your two thousand word essay that was due tonight, at 11:59 pm. you were growing extremely fidgety as the volume of people’s voices kept increasing in your head.

your professor for your premodern japan class had never been the type to be flexible when it came to assignments, which made the fact that you forgot about your essay even worse. you were on the verge of biting your nails off, caffeine coursing through your veins. 

you feel a tap on your shoulder, making you jump in your seat to look at the culprit. mark is taken back from your actions, backing up a bit. 

“you good?” he asks, and you nod at him.

“i’m fine, you just scared me. that’s all.”

“oh,” he purses his lips, taking a seat across from you. he places his backpack beside himself, and you watch him the entire time. he notices, freezing.

“sorry, did you not want company?” 

you shake your head, taking a sip of your coffee again. “no, that’s okay. you can sit here if you want.”

he smiles, pulling out his own laptop from his bag and setting it on the table. he plugs in his white apple earbuds in silence, but then opens his mouth to speak again.

“i just want you to know that it really means a lot that you enjoyed my song, and you said that you would listen to it on repeat so.. i sent it to you.”

your eyes light up, and you rush to pull out your phone from your bag. you turn it on, and just like mark had said, he had sent you the audio file just eleven minutes earlier. 

“oh— thank you, now i can listen to this until i get sick of it,” you tease, emailing the file to yourself so you could upload it onto your computer. he sends you a shy smile, looking down in his lap. 

“you’re really nice,” mark states, in a small voice. it’s cute. it was similar to that of an elementary school kid, when they would ask someone to be friends with them. 

“thank you,” you beam, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

the air thickens as it fills with silence once again, the sound of mark’s and your fingers typing at your laptops louden. you were switching between writing your essay and harshly gulping down your caffeinated drink. you decide that reading stories is much different than writing your own, and it irritates you.

at this point, you’re biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously, the coffee making you much more jittery. you’re snapped away from your thoughts when you hear a voice call out mark’s name from behind you, his eyes shooting up to the sound. a girl walks up to him, she was tall and had the legs of a model.

“morning,” she chirps. you eye the two, watching as they interact and how mark’s face turns pink, but you’re quick to return to your assignment. 

“hey,” mark greets her back. “what’s up?”

“nothing really, just wanted to say hi,” she replies, her voice high and filled with positivity. she was pretty — extremely pretty, the type of girl that most people would grow insecure from just looking in her general direction. 

“oh,” he nods, “by the way, this is a friend of mine, y/n.”

she looks over to you, a bright smile on her face. the apples of her cheeks were prominent, along with her defined cheekbones. “nice to meet you, i’m yoojung.”

“hello,” you greet back, trying your best not to seem rude. 

“we’re still on for tonight, right?” mark’s question is directed to yoojung, so you don’t pay attention to what they say.

“of course. i’m gonna go now, talk soon!” she waves goodbye to mark and you, walking off towards the exit of the establishment. when she leaves, you smirk at mark.

“girlfriend?” you ask him, and he shakes his head.

“i wish.”

—

you left the study hall nearly two hours later, after the short conversations and small “get to know each other” with mark. it was fun, getting to talk to him. you had learned that a friend had persuaded him into becoming a music major, and it didn’t take long for mark to realize he loved what he was doing. 

mark and you ended up leaving together, settling that it was entertaining to have the presence of another around. the building you two lived in was walking distance from the university, so it took you two around fifteen minutes to arrive.

“i’m home,” you announce, shaking off your oversized black button up leather jacket. you open up the messy closet a few steps away from the door, taking a coat hanger and putting your jacket up. your sweaters and coats were the only items hanging up in there — jaemin usually just threw his jacket on the back of a chair, calling it a day.

“hi, honey,” jaemin flirts, in a joking manner. you scrunch your nose up as you walk farther into your apartment, towards the shared living room, where jaemin sat.

“that was disgusting,” you tell him, making him giggle. you wish you could say that this behaviour coming from jaemin was irregular, but it was something he did on a daily basis. being na jaemin’s best friend and roommate meant having to deal with his playful shenanigans everyday, and there have been numerous times where you have felt second hand embarrassment from his constant attitude.

“would you prefer another pet name?”

“i would like it if you called me by my first name,” you tell him, placing your white tote bag on the dining room table beside the living room. you take out your computer, charging cable, and phone, only to find that your wallet was missing. you rummage further, searching through the random nearly empty gum packages and varieties of lip balm that you had for safe keeping.

“shit,” you mutter, letting out a huff of frustration. must have dropped it while walking home.

you begin to grow a bit worried, not wanting to deal with cancelling your current credit card and debit card due to the loss of your wallet. you barely carried around cash unless it was absolutely necessary, but you had still lost your id, license, and other numerous cards.

“be right back,” you say to jaemin, fast-walking back to the front door. it should be fairly easy to find your missing item if no one had taken it, as you took the same route to and from the uni. you hope that people had enough human decency to at least leave the wallet where it was, but you knew that was rare.

you swing your door open in a hurry, only to be met with the face of the same black haired boy who you had hung out with earlier. his hand was in the form of a fist, as if he was preparing to knock. his eyes are wide, stuttering out a sentence out of surprise.

“mark?” you question, squinting your eyes. you eye the ground around him, trying to check if your wallet was at his feet.

“um, i was just coming over to ask if you wanted to come see a movie with me? the girl i wanted to go with cancelled on me, and all my friends are busy so..”

“i’m sorry, but i kind of lost my wallet and i need to find it right-“

“oh,” mark’s eyes light up, reaching into the back pocket of his black jeans, pulling out your lavender coloured wallet, decorated with white embroidered flowers, “is this yours?”

“oh my god,” you exclaim as he hands it to you, “where did you find it?”

“i found it right now, outside of the elevator when i was coming over,” he explains to you, nodding his head.

“thank you so much,” you say, and he assures you that it was no big deal.

“so,” he starts, the tips of his ears turning pink. “did you want to tag along? i understand if you don’t.”

you stop to think for a short moment, one thing you hated was how socially awkward you were around people you barely knew. you were never good at maintaining conversation for a long period of time, and your social battery ran out way too quickly. it was the reason why you didn’t have many close friends, and it made you wish you were as outgoing as someone like, jaemin.

“hm,” you pause, maybe it wouldn’t be that weird. you had already spent ‘quality’ time with mark, if you could even call it that. it would be nice to have another friend. 

“what movie?” 

mark’s eyes and nose crinkle as his lips form into a smile. “it’s a horror movie, hope you don’t mind?”

“okay, i’ll go. what time does it start?”

“uh, in like 30 minutes.”

—

luck was on your side tonight. the time you spent with mark was anything but tense. it was different, compared to the study session you two had earlier in the day. you two shared a number of similarities and interests, and you found that mark held a talent for making you laugh. not to mention how contagious his own was.

horror movies never were your thing. you forgot how easily spooked you were, and how high your senses were while watching them. every little thing made you jump, whether it was the slightest sound or shortest scene. mark, on the other hand, seemed unphased. he had sat there for a majority of the time, shoving popcorn and snacks into his face.

“dude, i’m surprised we didn’t get kicked out,” mark laughs at you, making you lightly smack his shoulder.

“i can’t help it — i’m just not good at keeping quiet while watching scary things,” you explain to him, trying to justify why you screamed during the jump scare. you two exited the theatre together, mark still eating some of the leftover popcorn. 

“i wouldn’t have brought you if i knew you were gonna scream that loud.”

“shut up,” you retort sharply, rolling your eyes in his direction.

“i’m kidding!”

when you two make your exit together, the sky was already dark. it would have been much prettier if the street lights weren’t drowning out the twinkle of the stars. the warm summer breeze is gentle when making contact with your skin, making you inhale deeply. the faint sound of car engines revving makes up for the quiet walk towards mark’s car, and you notice that you two had a habit of going silent while together.

you also notice how mark’s eyes glisten under the dimly lit lights, and there’s something about it that you find deeply attractive. you’re able to shake off the thoughts quickly as you two enter his car, because you had never been the type to crush on someone you barely knew.

“something wrong?” mark checks on you, catching sight of you zoning out. your eyes snap from your hands that were fiddling in your lap, to mark’s face. 

“no, just thinking,” you smile, and he nods his head in understanding. from sitting next to mark lee, you’re able to point out the simplest things about him; his honey smooth skin, sprinkles of light that shined in his eyes, and the lone eyelash that sat on his cheek. you don’t say anything, though. it’s better that way.

—

during the next four weeks, mark lee’s presence takes a toll on your life. for the better, that is.

he insists that you two should study more together, commenting that you were much quieter while focused compared to his group of friends. you were a bit reluctant about it, still not the bestest friends with him, but you felt bad and gave in. the sessions were barely held at school or a library, it was usually just in either his or your apartment.

jaemin would not stop complaining about how much time you ended up spending with mark, constantly whining for not giving as much attention to him. you would always pull his hair and tell him to shut up, though. 

mark enjoyed walking to his and your tuesday and wednesday morning classes, stopping by to grab coffees before reaching the school. you two would part ways, then meet up after class to walk back home. it was like an unsaid ritual between the two of you.

during the time you two spent together, you observed the way you both opened up to each other. he would become more giddy, while you would drop sarcastic comments off the tip of your tongue.

“how bad was my kissing in high school?” mark drops the question casually, laying in your bed with his phone in his hands. his eyes wander to your own, while you nearly spit out the water you were sipping.

you recall the event, even though you wished you hadn’t — mostly because you wanted to forget. it was an embarrassing and low moment for you, grabbing the hand of a stranger and making such intimate contact with him. as stated before, you were not a rule breaker, or a “wild one”, as most say. you usually stayed within your comfort zone, and you liked it that way.

“i, um,” you stutter. he gives you a goofy grin, very interested in hearing your response.

“it wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t bad.. does that make sense?”

he sits up, placing his arms behind him to hold himself up. he tilts his head to the side, the dark green tee he had decided to wear today complimenting his eyes. 

“huh? what does that even mean?”

“i don’t know, i can’t remember that much!”

you swallow. that was a lie. you do remember, you remembered it because you had been thinking about it for a couple of days. you don’t know why, though. you have no idea what could be the cause of why you kept thinking about how mark’s hands had roamed your body that night, not removing any clothing, but still erupting butterflies in your stomach. you spent minutes trying to remember what mark’s lips had tasted of, before you settled on cherry. his hair was messy and the music playing outside was muffled by the walls surrounding you two. if someone hadn’t come in that night, knocking softly on the door, you don’t know what would have happened.

“was i really not that memorable?” mark asks with a frown, and you shake your head. 

“alright,” he sighs and shrugs his shoulders, laying back down onto the bed with a thump of your mattress. 

mark’s phone makes a loud “ding”, vibrating in his hands. you twirl a pen around your fingers, rereading the neat notes you took for your social development program. 

“who’s that?” you ask, eyes still remaining on your paper as you revise it carefully. you’re slouched against your chair, already growing bored.

“yoojung,” mark replies. your lips tighten, an unwanted feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. an unseen sour expression forms on your face as you shove the emotion back down, crossing your legs. 

you hum in understanding, unable to keep repeating your tedious study sheet. you weren’t able to fathom why mark had seemed so alluring for the past couple of days. with each passing day, you found your feelings becoming increasingly intolerable. 

you aren’t aware that mark is getting out of your bed, throwing his hoodie over his slender frame in a hurry to leave. it isn’t until he’s tapping his finger at the edge of your desk, looking down at you. you blink a few times, focusing your attention to him.

“i’m gonna go pick up yoojung,” he tells you, “her car broke down.”

you nod your head, not saying a word. it isn’t needed, nor did you want to. mark pats your shoulder, signalling a goodbye. he exits your room, closing the door behind him.

you let out a heavy breath when he leaves, groaning to yourself. you stand up from your rolling chair, a squeak coming from the wooden floorboards. you allow yourself to fall face first onto your bed, mark’s scent filling your nose. you scrunch your face up, turning around so your back is against the mattress.

you never liked being in a place where you liked someone, especially when it was someone you so badly did not want feelings for. they took millennias for you to get rid of, and they always gave you a constant want to be with them. you huff, shoving a pillow in your face, having an odd desire to want to yell. you didn’t want to have the image of his brown eyes engraved in your memory, or the fluttering of your stomach that you hid whenever mark would send you a smile.

one thing about you was that you were good at telling people how you felt. throughout the years of high school, you would blurt out confessions to your crushes whenever you felt a faint tug of your heart strings when thinking about them. it was easier that way, it meant if they felt the same way, you could try. on the other hand, if they didn’t, it would be exceptionally easier to rid yourself of your unrequited emotions.

so you ask yourself now, why are you so afraid of telling mark?

was it because you weren’t in high school anymore and that you were supposed to look at relationships more seriously? was it because you were afraid of his answer?

minutes pass as you stay deep in thought. was it because you didn’t want to lose mark for something as petty and small as a crush? or was it because you knew that he felt something for another?

you stare at the ceiling with a neutral expression resting on your face. that was the worst part, knowing that mark liked yoojung. you were already awaiting inevitable rejection from his end, and it was frustrating. you knew it was cruel to want yoojung to be a bad person, so you could tell mark about how awful she was. in truth, she was one of the most attractive and sweetest people you had ever met. 

what wasn’t there to like about her? more importantly, how come mark and her weren’t together yet? you swore that they acted like they were made for each other. the feeling of self pity begins to engulf you, the irony of the truth feeling too unreal.

you desperately wished that life was like a paperback that sat on the white bookshelf in your room. it would have been so much easier if it was fiction, if your life was just lines of ink. reality was bitter, always leaving you unsatisfied. oh, what you would give to be a woman living her dreams on a couple hundred of pages. but that’s all books were; fabrications, illusions, all they did was offer company to the plants that sat beside them on your shelving.

you take the airpods off of your white night stand, opening the case and putting them in your ears. you grasp your phone in your hands, clicking on the familiar file of mark’s song. your eyes linger towards your window, the dark night sky reflecting in your orbs.

you know mark would be an amazing partner, he came off so extremely shy at first, yet he had always been gentle. his eyes always lit up when he saw yoojung, greeting her with a wave of his hand and a bashful smile. he never failed to be interested in what yoojung had to say, ears always perked up when she began speaking. you would often tease him about it, but he never seemed to mind.

you dream of mark lee that night, humming to the sound of his voice, hoping to wake up to the same mark that appeared in your imagination. 

—

“y/n,” jaemin’s voice says your name in a sweet, sing-song, sickening way. you open your eyes slowly, the sudden view of sunlight giving you a headache. you hear the faint sound of your alarm ringing from under your pillow, the annoyingly loud default iphone noise spreading the pain in your skull. 

“what?” you say groggily, sitting up and reaching to hit the snooze button, memorizing where it was put after having to hear the noise for years. you close your eyes again, falling back onto your bed. 

“don’t you have a morning class today? it’s tuesday,” jaemin reminds you. you open your right eye, scowling at him standing in the doorway.

“i don’t feel like going,” you put it out for him simply. “i’ll just ask someone else to send me notes on the lecture.”

you rarely ever missed class. the only time you had ever failed to attend a lesson was when you were deathly sick. you take a guess that your mood had dropped significantly because of how stressed you were, mark lee never leaving your thoughts. 

“really? better tell that to mark, he’s waiting for you,” jaemin informs you. you groan in annoyance, shoving the covers off of you. yawning, you sluggishly begin walking towards the front door. 

mark’s hair is styled neatly, sporting a simple white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, a black and white nike windbreaker topping off today’s look. his eyebrows scrunch up when he sees you in your pajamas.

“i’m not going,” you state. 

mark tilts his head, “why not? are you okay?”

“i’m tired.” 

that wasn’t a lie, you were tired. tired of longing for a boy that didn’t see you in the light you saw him, tired of trying to convince yourself that you just felt lonely and you were just making up your feelings in your head. 

“okay then.. i’ll visit you later?”

you lazily nod your head, eyes already beginning to close again. mark looks as if he’s worried, but you were already on your way back to your bedroom, having the desire to crawl into bed and wrap the covers around your body. you murmur to yourself the entire way there, cursing yourself out and stomping simultaneously.

“what’s wrong?” jaemin’s voice asks, half concerned, half curious. he’s already placing himself next to you when you inch your way back under your blankets. you don’t look at him, but you can tell he’s burning holes into the back of your head.

“nothing,” you grumble, bringing your bed sheets up to your chin. 

“sure,” jaemin says, sarcasm dripping off of his voice. “not like this is the first time you’ve played hooky in years.”

you remain quiet, staring at nothing.

“what is up with you today?” he asks again. you never talked to jaemin about your boy problems, and you sure as hell did not want to start now. the only issue was you knew jaemin would never stop nagging you until you told him something close to the truth. you still don’t talk, you just want to rest your eyes and sleep for the entire day.

“hello? you gonna answer me?” jaemin starts poking at your uncovered cheeks continuously. he’s gentle enough to not hurt you, but irritating enough to make you want to bite his finger off. “this have anything to do with mark?”

it sounded so childlike when you thought about it. not having the energy to attend a class because you were stressed about a boy. if a girl friend of yours had told you the same story, you would brush it off with a shrug. you wearily rub your eyes with a yawn.

“yeah.”

“i knew it.”

you click your tongue in annoyance. you turn your body, laying on your left side instead of your right to see jaemin’s face. 

“so, you like him? are you going to tell him?” he nudges you with a slight, close-lipped smile. you shake your head.

“there’s no point,” you sigh, “he likes someone else.”

“oh,” jaemin responds in a quiet voice. 

“yep.”

“do you know who?” he asks. 

“yeah, kim yoojung,” you tell jaemin. he can’t help but feel sorry for you, emotionally exhausted while lying in bed.

“i see.”

jaemin shuffles his way out of your room, quietly closing the door behind him. you stare into space for a bit. you felt like an idiot, upset about an unrequited crush for a boy you had only known for a month.

you feel even more pathetic when images of mark fill your empty mind. your feelings for mark were the aftertaste you gained after eating something strong, like onions or garlic. it made you scrunch up your nose and cringe, wishing you had eaten something else. 

god, did you wish you liked someone other than mark lee.

—

mark wasn’t lying when he said he would be visiting you later that day. he comes knocking on your door with a drink tray holding two hot coffees in his hand, a few pages of paper in the other. you forgot how good-natured mark had always been, even if he was an introvert.

“hi— oh, mark,” you squeak in surprise, holding the door for him to come in. he steps inside your apartment, taking his shoes off at the front. 

“hope you’re feeling better,” mark pipes, setting the coffee on the counter as you follow behind him. “that’s a white mocha, you like those right?”

he turns around, handing you the pages of paper. “these are your notes from your missed classes, um i knew people in there and i just thought it was pretty convenient.”

your heart beats within your chest, taking the papers from his hand. 

“thank you, you really didn’t have to.”

“it’s fine,” he smiles reassuringly. you hate this, how mark had no clue what he was doing. it felt like a false sense of hope he was sending your way, making your breath hitch. 

“no, seriously, you—”

“i know that you don’t enjoy the hassle of asking around for stuff like this,” he replies. you bask in mark’s presence for a short moment, his casual wear looking oddly attractive today. it makes you feel bad about the oversized hoodie you stole from jaemin and the baggy sweats you were wearing.

you sit down, laying out the sheets of lined paper on the dining room table, analyzing the writing carefully. mark takes a seat next to you, sipping on his own coffee as he watches you. he inclines closer to you, trying to read the writing for himself.

“looks complicated,” he observes, his breath hitting the back of your neck as he leans over you, causing you to straighten out your posture, letting out a cough. he returns back to his position, looking at you with worrisome eyes.

“do you have a cold?” he asks you, searching for any signs of sickness. you shake your head no, exhaling softly.

“no, just had an itch in my throat, that’s all.”

he places the back of his hand against your forehead, scrunching his eyebrows up. your current situation appeared as if you would find it in the kdramas that jaemin spent so much of his time playing on the television of your living room. you rarely paid attention to them, sneering at him when he would beg you to watch one with him.

you never understood the fuss about it, but now you knew what it was like to be the main character of one. it was disgustingly heartwarming as you avoid locking eyes with mark as he retracts his hand.

“yeah, i’m no doctor but your temperature is fine,” he nods, sipping on his coffee again. 

“how’s yoojung?” you finally speak up, not knowing what else to talk about. plus, you were weirdly curious of how she was doing.

“she’s good,” he tells you with a sheepish smile on his face. you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. “not much going on with her, they did take her car into the shop, though.”

“really? for how long?”

“hm,” he hums with a half shrug, “not really sure, but it shouldn’t be for that long. i offered to drive her around until her car gets fixed, but she said no.”

“sounds like yoojung,” you say, gritting your teeth with a closed mouth.

“should i just tell her how i feel?” mark asks out of the blue. you shift in your spot uncomfortably, but mark is too deep in thought to notice. you pause, only to quickly clear your throat.

“go for it,” you chuckle, a fake smile spread across your face. 

inaudible shaky breaths are leaving your mouth, only out of agitation. the rain outside pitters, droplets of water racing down the window panes quietly. you’re stuck between the ideas of just coming clean to mark or watching him pursue his own feelings. it was so clear that mark was interested in one girl, and one girl only. the only outcome that you had within this game was a losing one, either no longer having mark as a friend, or suffering with unreciprocated feelings in private.

none of the endings seemed appealing to you. you were beginning to wonder if you should just go out and start dating again, but the very thought of the idea seemed childish. you weren’t in high school anymore, so having feelings like this just felt immature.

“is there any new music i can look forward to hearing from you?” you question. 

“maybe,” mark raises his eyebrows twice, “just thinking of a name for a new track. wanna have a listen and help me with the naming process?”

you roll your eyes with a playful smile, extending your hand. he grins back, unlocking his phone and opening the file. he places his phone in your hand, and you’re quick to press play. the melody was slower, compared to the first song he showed you. it was less of computer generated beats, and more of actual instruments. the strum of a guitar welcomes you with open arms, the notes lower pitched and calming.

you inhale deeply as mark’s familiar voice begins singing, the lyrics of the song coincidentally being about a boy who loved someone who did not love him back. you prop your chin on your hand, your expression neutral compared to someone who felt like crying out of self pity.

you tap your foot to the beat, looking down at the table. 

you pause the song, placing mark’s phone on the table. he looks at you with confused eyes, worried that you may not like what he made.

“did it sound bad? it was the beat, wasn’t it?”

you gather your courage, looking mark in the eyes.

“i have feelings for you.”

mark’s eyes go wide in silence. you swallow the lump forming in your throat, fiddling with the black hair tie on your left wrist. the sound of the rain grows louder as the silence prolongs. every inch of your being simmers with regret, seeing mark’s reaction. 

it was humiliating, watching as mark tried to form a sentence in his head as you knew what the answer was going to be. you never held any good expectations for your confession, because you knew it was a lost cause. you just figured this would be the easiest way to get over him. 

your hands grew sweatier as you tried to rub them on your hoodie. you were beginning to think that maybe, telling mark was the wrong way to go. you could have just hid how you felt, and maybe your crush would have gone away on its own. you expected that it wouldn’t have been that hard to distance yourself from mark.

“what?” was the only thing mark was able to breathe out.

you ball the fabric at the hem of your hoodie, tightening the grip of your fists. your breaths are shaky, maybe there was a part of mark that felt the same, but that was just something you told yourself to feel better. 

“sorry to tell you this now,” you apologize, looking down at your legs.

“no, no, it’s okay,” mark leans back in his chair, eyes filled with bewilderment, “y/n..”

you had seen this coming from miles away — you just wished that this had changed how you felt about him weeks before.

“you’re really amazing, and you’re a really good friend of mine, seriously. i cherish you a lot, just not.. that way. i hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”

although you knew the outcome of what was going to happen, that didn’t change the pang of hurt that came with it. maybe this didn’t affect mark, but it affects you. you don’t catch feelings often, and unfortunately, you did for the boy you couldn’t have.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” mark finishes, his pity-filled eyes boring into your own. you straighten your position, offering a small smile towards his direction.

“i know, i think yoojung and you would make a much lovelier couple anyway,” you tell him. it sounds pettier than what is intended. his expression softens.

“it’s not like that,” he tries to explain, but you don’t believe that. 

books are beautiful, they are magical, fascinating, and enticing. life is, simply put, a bitch.

“i have some quizzes to study for,” you tell him, which wasn’t exactly a lie. you just needed a reason to be alone for a bit.

“i can help, if you want, it’s not exactly my expertise but—“

“thanks, but i’m fine.”

you would rather be by yourself than have mark stay with you out of guilt. there’s a part of you that’s mad at yourself for putting this weight on his shoulders, and another part of you is glad. although you thought of it as selfish, it was the best way to rid yourself of how you felt towards him. it gave you the closure that you needed.

“i want to help, really,” it sounds like he’s pleading, trying to give you purpose to have him stay. it’s painfully obvious that he’s doing it to console you. 

“i’ll be fine on my own,” you finalize. you gather the papers on the table and stack them. “thank you for getting these for me. i’ll talk to you later.”

mark is speechless. you know that your reaction was harsh, but you just wanted mark to go. the two of you don’t talk when you walk him to the door, and you don’t reply to his “bye”. when he finally leaves, you bury your face in your hands out of frustration. 

the apartment is now quiet, the sound of the black clock on the wall ticking filling the room. your stomach is turning from the events that went down, anxiety always made you nauseous. 

now that you had finally told mark how you felt, there was one step left; getting over him.

—

the next day wasn’t much better. mark sent you a good morning text, and even though it was something he did everyday, it felt more like he sent it because he was feeling guilty. you didn’t respond, instead you just muted him for the day. you needed the space. 

you made sure to leave ten minutes earlier than you usually did that morning, in order to avoid mark. not seeing his face would make it slightly easier to forget about your feelings for him. mark had showed up to your apartment moments after, asking for you, only for jaemin to say you had left.

you thought about mark all day, wondering what he was doing and if he was thinking about you. you distracted yourself throughout the hours with studying and speaking to other friends, but he would always end up back in the middle of your pondering.

you hate it, how not seeing him affects you more.

“y/n,” your study partner, from your history of the choson dynasty course, impatiently taps her pen against the side of your laptop. you blink a few times, redirecting your focus to her.

“you seem distracted,” she points out. you shake your head at her, inhaling as you smile. 

“no, i’m okay,” you say politely. you push the thoughts of mark lee back to the depths of your stomach, rubbing your hand on your forehead frustratingly.

“before i forget,” she says, “there’s a guy i’m friends with. same year as us, he wanted me to let you know that he’s interested in you.”

you raise a brow, “how does he even know me?”

“he sees us together sometimes,” she chuckles back a reply, “his name is yeonjun? you might know him.”

“sorry i’m just not that interested in dating—“

she cuts you off, patting your shoulder. “you had one bad experience with a uni boy, you never know what could happen. plus, i need yeonjun to stop nagging me.”

you purse your lips. she was right, one bad experience didn’t mean the end of things, but you were unsure. a blind date would be a great way to take your mind off of your horrible memory of last night. with a bite of your lip, you find yourself noticing the pros, rather than the cons of meeting this guy named yeonjun.

“what’s he like?” you ask, a bit curious. her emotion shifts, making it obvious that she was trying to find the right words to describe him.

“he’s nice,” is the first thing she says, “sometimes very full of himself, but overall, he’s good looking. one time he walked into a glass sliding door.”

you hold back a small chuckle. you’re hesitating to give an answer so soon, but you figured that there was no harm. maybe it would be fun.

“you can give him my number,” you tell her, nodding your head once. she squeezes your hand in a friendly manner, “thank you y/n. now he’ll finally get off my case.”

you can’t help but feel flattered, that a guy would constantly ask your friend about you. it’s how any normal person would react to information like that.

she pulls out her phone quickly, her fingers tapping rapidly at the screen. her ringer is on, and you can tell by the sound of the apple keyboard making too much noise for your liking. you aren’t trying to be nosy, but the “whoosh” the phone makes indicates she’s sending a message to someone. 

your eyes flicker to her face when she smiles. she turns her phone off, placing it on the table. “i just sent it to him. he’s kind of nervous, probably freaking out right now.”

the comment itself makes you bashfully lower your head. you feel the hours of staring at your computer screen finally catching up to your brain, straining your eyes. you squint in pain, closing the laptop softly. 

“you okay?” she asks.

“i think i’m going to grab a bite to eat, i’m starving.” 

she nods in understanding. you carefully place your belongings in your book bag, trying not to cause a ruckus that catches the attention of your fellow peers. 

“bye,” you say casually, and she responds with the nod of her head. it’s her own way of saying goodbye. 

by the time you are about thirteen steps away from the table you were at, you’re already taking out your own phone to dial jaemin’s number. although he can be an annoying little prick, he’s someone you can eat in silence with and not feel uncomfortable. you are also aware that this was around the time he finishes his afternoon class, so you knew he would be around.

your footsteps pat against the concrete flooring of the halls, not making much noise. you exit the building through the glass sliding doors, towards a local cafe. the line rings a few times, but you know jaemin always answers his phone. 

“hello?” his voice chimes.

“can you come get food with me?” it sounds like a question, but you mean it as more of a demand. 

“of course i can,” he answers. “where do you want to meet?”

“i’m still on campus, outside by the main doors.”

“behind you,” is the last thing jaemin says, before he hangs up. you turn around, seeing jaemin waltzing towards you, a backpack lazily slung over his shoulder. students are exiting behind him, their talking growing loud.

“miss me?” jaemin jokes. you two walk side by side together.

“you’re disgusting,” you cringe back at him. he tries to pout cutely in your direction, but it just makes the second hand embarrassment grow. 

jaemin pushes the glass door of the cafe open, the bell chiming. he holds it open for you, and the delightful smell of freshly baked bread fills your nostrils.

“welcome!” the cashier beams from behind the white countertops, a bright smile plastered on her face. you wave your hand in greeting, sitting down with jaemin at a two person table beside the glass walls. 

“mark was looking for you, he was wondering why you left without him today,” jaemin tells you, placing his backpack on the floor by his feet. you trace the lines in the wood of the table. 

“i told him that i like him,” you bite your lip. jaemin rests his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“you did?”

you nod, “he said he didn’t see me in that way. kind of avoiding him now.”

jaemin’s expression noticeably softens. “it’s gonna be okay. there’s a lot of guys out there, tons who are more interesting than mark.”

“i know,” you nod again, “that’s why i gave a guy my number.”

it’s no surprise when jaemin’s eyes widen, his mouth parting in pure astonishment. as mentioned countless times, you really weren’t interested in dating at the moment. handing out your phone number on a silver platter was definitely something jaemin did not expect from you.

“what? who?” he begins bombarding you with countless questions, asking how you met the guy, what he’s studying, and he kept dishing them out without letting you answer a single one.

“calm down, i haven’t even met him yet!” you exclaim.

“what? then how did you give him your number?”

you sigh, “my study partner told me that he was interested in me, so i told her to give him my number. i don’t know, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. his name is yeonjun.” you knew it was out of the ordinary, but you barely cared anymore. you felt so stupid for telling mark about your feelings, so you just ended up doing another stupid thing to make up for it.

“first, you have a crush on mark lee, next, you’re giving your contact information out to strangers? my god — my little girl is growing up,” jaemin teases you, placing his hands over his heart. you pinch his arm in retaliation, snorting back a laugh when he winces in pain.

jaemin then stands up, taking his debit card out of his dark blue skinny jeans. “hot drink or cold drink?”

“cold.”

“iced caramel macchiato it is, then,” he responds. he walks away, towards the cash register to order. you bask in the ambience surrounding you, faint music playing on the speakers and conversations of others filling your ears. you don’t mind the volume, it just sounded like background noise to you.

the cafe is pretty, dark wooden tables scattered around the room and soft lights are hanging from the ceiling. there are some small leather couches in the corners of the area. only one is taken, but you know people prefer the tables and wooden chairs with cushions over the worn down couches.

jaemin comes back, placing your coffees and two sandwiches on the table, sitting back down.

“what did you get?” you ask, sipping your sweet coffee. the condensation on the outside of the cup is cold, dripping down and leaving droplets on the table. jaemin pushes his own drink towards you, motioning for you to try it. 

“see for yourself.”

you immediately regret bringing your lips to the straw, you knew of jaemin’s strange coffee order with four added espresso shots. you scrunch up your facial features when the coffee hits your tongue, giving the drink back to him.

“i hate you for making me do that,” you state.

“no you don’t,” he retorts with a smile, taking sips of his own drink as if it didn’t taste like hell.

you hear the same cafe bell ringing, but you pay little to no attention to the sound. jaemin’s head shoots up, eyes darting to whoever had just walked in. you’re too busy checking apps on your phone to even realize it.

“don’t look now,” jaemin tells you, bringing your focus to him. you look at him with the kind of eyes that say, “what the hell are you talking about?”.

“why? what’s wrong with you—“

“if you’re trying to steer clear of mark, i really would not turn around.”

you now understand what jaemin is trying to tell you, and it nearly makes you laugh. it really is stupid in your opinion, but you decide that this is the only way to get over mark. you being you, you take a peek at him, just because.

he looks nice, in a black beanie, a black jacket, blue jeans, and white tee under the said jacket. it’s a biased opinion, of course, because you think mark looks good in anything.

he goes to order, not before pulling out his phone to text someone, though. you had underestimated how much it would take you to not go over and say hi, but you are able to keep your composure.

he’s out of the cafe with a drink in hand as fast as he had entered, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“that was fun,” jaemin snorts, leaning back further on his chair. you kick his foot from under the table, and he reaches down in pain. 

you huff, going back on your phone and deciding to text your study buddy. she responds almost immediately, asking what you needed.

you’re typing furiously fast, eyebrows scrunched up as jaemin merely observed. 

“what are you doing?” he asks.

“asking for yeonjun’s number.”

you don’t know why you were doing this, maybe it was because you saw mark’s face and it reminded you of yesterday. it was like it triggered you, it made you want to find someone other than him. you wanted him to know that his rejection didn’t affect you (although it did). by now, you had copy and pasted yeonjun’s number in your contacts, while jaemin looked slightly worried about your change in attitude.

he’s never seen you like this; weirdly impulsive and making decisions based on your emotions, you are a very logical and analytical person. you always thought something out rationally before taking action. 

something changed in you, and you knew exactly whose face was behind the reason.

—

you smile to yourself, staring down at the texts on your phone. you had been messaging yeonjun for around an hour now, and you were safe to say that he was easily one of the sweetest people you have ever met. 

you had only decided to message him when jaemin and you arrived back at the apartment, and you had been eyeing his contact in your phone doubtingly for a good five minutes.

when you texted him first, he was quite excited. although, he was a little embarrassed that you had decided to reach out to him instead. you assured him that it was okay, and the conversation continued on. you were just happy to find someone new to talk to, who wasn’t your study partner and who wasn’t your roommate.

whilst mark still lingered in your mind, talking to someone as outgoing as yeonjun seemed to be a temporary get away for yourself. you understand that it seemed a bit selfish, knowing that yeonjun took an interest in you, but you knew that it was just a small infatuation. there was no harm in talking to the boy over messages.

yeonjun [3:31 pm] i’m sorry it took me this long to talk to u ! u’re so intimidating in real life

you didn’t think that people actually thought about you as difficult to approach, you just thought your friends said that to you as a joke. now, you realize that you did look a little mean in everyday life. 

you [3:32 pm] dw about it lol i don’t mind

yeonjun [3:32 pm] well im glad i get to talk to u now

it’s quite evident that yeonjun’s personality had a flirty undertone to it, he seemed like the type of guy where pickup lines rolled off of the tip of his tongue with ease. you had both exchanged pictures earlier so you could save them to each other’s contacts. he was smiling largely in his, his hair black and his attractive face looked too perfect to be true. your selfie wasn’t much, just you putting up a peace sign with the corners of your lips slightly lifted. 

of course, yeonjun had taken the opportunity to call you pretty when you sent it.

yeonjun [3:33 pm] do u want to hang out some time? it could be fun !

your eyes linger on his message for a small amount of time, silent thoughts are going through your head. you didn’t want to lead him on — yeonjun seemed friendly (although this was an opinion you had made based off of your text conversation) and you didn’t want to give him a false sense of hope. 

but another part of your mind had you asking yourself, what could go wrong? you could just label it as a friend hang out, not a date. he didn’t even mention that it was a date, he just asked you if you wanted to hang out. 

yeonjun [3:34 pm] did i scare u off? :,(

you [3:34 pm] nono i’m still here !! just trying to see what days i’m free

well, that wasn’t exactly a lie. you were trying to find an open day to possibly meet up with yeonjun, but you were also beginning to second guess your choice.

you quickly click out of your messages with yeonjun, only to be met with three unread notifications from mark. it was from two hours ago, but you were too distracted to even notice that he had texted you.

mark [1:12pm] hii are u busy?

mark [1:12pm] can we hang out today? i have nothing to do

mark [1:13pm] do you want coffee? i’m at the cafe by the school

you realize that mark had texted you inside that coffee shop. it pained you to see that mark was acting like nothing happened, while you were hurting. his texts made it harder to avoid him.

your fingers are frozen, hovering over the keyboard. you shake off the impulse of wanting to text mark back. if mark really wanted to hang out with you, you figured he would most likely just come over and knock on your door. 

you quickly return to yeonjun’s texts, answering him.

you [3:36pm]  are you free tonight ? :)

yeonjun doesn’t text back right away, and you wonder to yourself if it was too soon. you wanted to be out of the house, you wanted to go somewhere you didn’t have a chance of mark waltzing up to you to say hi. it was too embarrassing, and too soon for your liking. you cringe at the thought of yesterday.

yeonjun [3:39pm] SORRY i got kind of excited that u wanted to meet so soon HDJDJFH

yeonjun [3:39pm] but yes, i am free tonight. does 7 pm sound okay, ma’am?

a laugh can’t help but escape the grasp of your lips. you enjoyed yeonjun’s goofy and odd sense of humour, he knew how to keep you entertained and he was good at it. the texts between you two flowed nicely, the timid/serious girl versus the flirty/comical guy dynamic worked great between the two of you.

you [3:40pm] 7pm would be great <3 my address is XXXXXXX

you turn your phone off with the click of your power button, getting off of your mattress to rummage through clothes. you hadn’t been on a date in awhile, and you didn’t think you were going to go on one so soon either. basically, you had no idea what to talk about, what to do, or what to wear. you hoped yeonjun would figure out where you two were going to go.

opening your white doored closet, you face your hanging dresses. praying that you still fit them, you grasp at the fabrics, pushing the pieces of clothing until you could find one that you liked.

you grab a baby blue dress that hangs off of a black coat hanger, slipping it on with ease. it’s an off shoulder short sleeved one, something you don’t usually wear (because jaehyun had bought it for you when you dated) and it goes just above your knee. you like the way it fits your frame, satisfied with your choice. you take a peek at yourself in the bathroom mirror, smiling.

“going somewhere?” jaemin’s voice chimes from the doorway. he’s leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“mhm, i’m going to hang out with yeonjun,” you reply back, brushing the knots out of your hair.

“aw,” he pouts, “you’re finally gonna get some!”

“jaemin?”

“yeah?”

“i’m gonna kick you in the balls if you don’t go away.”

“i’m going!”

—

you tap your foot anxiously as the elevator descends down your building. god — you definitely did not see this coming. it was like you were constantly making irrational choices for no reason; as if you weren’t in control. you had put on a handful of makeup, which was also something that was unusual for you.

a peach and brown eyeshadow was placed neatly on your eyelids, a thin wing of eyeliner on top of it. there were sparkles in the corner of your eyes, a peachy blush on the apples of your cheeks and on the tip of your nose. you had settled on a clear lip gloss, rather than a lipstick.

it felt nice to be confident in how you looked, even if you were just going out of impulse.

“wow,” yeonjun visibly mouths when he gains sight of you walking out of your apartment building. yeonjun was much more attractive in person, standing in front of his black car. 

“yeonjun?” you say, walking up to him. he’s still admiring you, an evident pink colour appearing on his cheeks.

“yeah! you’re just really pretty.”

the comment itself makes you shy. he holds his car door open for you, allowing you to slide in. the seats are leather, and it’s fairly clean inside. the floor mats have little to no dirt on them, and you didn’t even see an inch of bird poop on the outside of his car.

before he starts the car, you notice the familiar feeling of guilt bubbling from inside of you. this was a date, a real date. even though you didn’t want a relationship, yeonjun had the thought in his mind that you did. you just couldn’t lead him on like this, and it was better to tell him now than to let it even grow a tiny bit.

you admit, it’s quite inconsiderate of you to do this. even if you had just met him, lying was never a good start to a healthy friendship/relationship. nowadays, you were having a hard time navigating your own moral compass. 

the car engine revs up loudly, and yeonjun hands you his phone that’s connected to the aux cord.

“here,” he says, placing it in your hand. “i want to know what kind of music you like.”

it’s a simple, but kind gesture. the beginning of this night was much different than the “dates” you went on with boyfriends in high school. they were full of awkward hand holding and prolonged silences, and it always had you dreading to go on the next. 

this felt much more pleasant, especially since you knew the guy was into you, and that you wouldn’t have to worry about much. the only thing eating away at you was the truth, and why you were here. it felt like you were using yeonjun to get back at mark, and you just wanted to clear things up with yeonjun before doing anything.

but you don’t.

—

yeonjun presents you with two admission tickets to an aquarium when he parks the car. you think it’s cute, and you definitely thought that his idea of the first date fit his personality. 

you, personally, enjoyed aquariums. although you didn’t enjoy the strong, fishy smell, you thought it was relaxing and fun to just walk around and see the different types of ocean creatures.

the environment is serene, not many kids or people go to the aquarium at night. there’s a map when you two enter, and yeonjun takes a picture of it to navigate. it’s a bit dark inside, but you don’t mind. it’s warmer inside than it is outside as well, and much quieter.

“jellyfish!” yeonjun exclaims, like a cute little kid. he takes a hold of your hand, almost dragging you to the section of bright coloured jellyfish behind glass. they move slowly, and it reminds you of how you wanted to touch the top of them to see if they were squishy as a child.

“can we take a selfie?” he asks you, pulling out his phone. you smile, nodding to him.

“of course.”

the two of you stand in front of the jellyfish, and he aims his phone high. he smiles brightly, while you take out a peace sign. the phone makes a loud click, and yeonjun seems satisfied with the picture when he goes to view it.

the both of you continue to walk, viewing each creature carefully. yeonjun is a bit more excited than you are, but you have to admit that it was kind of adorable.

“so,” you begin, “tell me about yourself.”

“hm,” he pauses for a moment, “well.. i’m studying music, and i’ve had a little crush on you for two weeks. a little embarrassing on my part, but worth it.”

“i see,” you nod your head in understanding, “and why do you have a crush on me?”

“you’re pretty,” he immediately blurts out. it makes you grow shy, but yeonjun continues on.

“i-i mean, that’s not just it! i know you are really smart and independent.. i admire that about you.”

you know that it was your friend who probably told him all this stuff, labelling you with such kind words. you wondered why yeonjun’s name hadn’t been brought up earlier. you’re also curious if yeonjun knew mark, but you decide not to ask.

mark wasn’t stopping you from having a good time tonight. you remind yourself that you don’t have to be loyal to someone who doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, but it doesn’t keep you from missing him.

“what about you, y/n? anything interesting you can tell me about yourself?”

you don’t think there’s much to know about you. you’re extremely straightforward and you don’t exactly have a lot of unique experiences to bring up.

“not really,” you reply, “i’m not as captivating as you make me out to be.”

the dark blue carpet below your feet doesn’t make much noise as you take steps throughout the establishment. the reflection of the water is bouncing off of the walls, small podiums with information about each marine animal was placed in front of almost all of the tanks.

yeonjun smiles in your direction, “i’m sure there’s a lot to you other than what meets the eye.”

the night continued on, full of laughter and storytelling from the both of you. yeonjun has a few close friends and dozens of hilarious events that occurred with them. his warm aura is amusing, and you find yourself enjoying the company he is able to offer you.

you two took a large amount of photos, mostly because yeonjun wanted to take pictures of everything. he demanded that you two bought matching red crab hats at the gift shop, and you happily complied. he didn’t fail to hand out constant compliments your way, which was also something you didn’t mind. you know that jaemin and him would probably make great friends.

“i think,” you pause, scrolling through the pictures that you took, “this one looks the best.” yeonjun is posing in front of a pair of sea otters cuddled close to each other, the excitement inside of him never leaving his eyes.

“but you aren’t in it,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows to find another one. “what about this one?”

this time, it’s a picture of you two in front of a large, cylinder shaped fish tank. it’s full of a variety of different species, ranging from small sharks to turtles. yeonjun had asked one of the staff members to take it, and you can clearly remember her flushed face when he tapped her on the shoulder. you couldn’t blame her, yeonjun was insanely attractive.

“that’s a good one,” you nod in agreement, satisfied with his choice. on the way out, he quickly uploads the picture to instagram, with a cheesy pick up line as the caption. it doesn’t surprise you.

you’re sure that your makeup was probably ruined from the heat of when you two entered the tropical area, which was full of frogs and they even had a small natured area that was inhabited by birds. one had landed right on yeonjun’s shoulder, and he nearly scared it off by screaming.

you two hadn’t indulged into deep details of your life during the time you spent together, but you did learn a fair amount of information about each other. yeonjun told you he lived in the on campus dorms, and although he was extremely good looking, he had a hard time with girls.

the car ride back home is full of loud music, the kind of music that makes your stomach churn, full of nostalgia. he tells stories, you tell stories, and it’s quite nice overall. it was past nine in the evening, but the amount of cars on the road seemed the same as earlier in the night.

the bass of the music is so loud that it vibrates the side of the car, and two bottles of water are now placed in the once empty cup holders. yeonjun keeps his eyes on the road, but you can tell his main goal is to keep you entertained.

he parallel parks his car effortlessly in front of your building, running quickly to open the car door for you. you can pretty much tell that yeonjun was a raging romantic, or at least he gave you the vibe that he was.

“thank you,” you say in a small voice, making yeonjun wink at you. he hands you your bottled water, walking you to the front door. you pull out your keys, pressing the grey key fob to the sensor. he pulls the door open for you, following you inside.

“i should probably let you go now,” he smiles.

“tonight was really fun,” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, yeonjun’s eyes and nose crinkling with happiness.

“i’m glad you had fun, because i did.”

then it came again — the unbearable guilt that was sitting on your shoulders. mark’s face flashing inside your mind, reminding you that you weren’t doing this to get with yeonjun. you were doing it to get over your moronic crush on mark. you knew that if you were in yeonjun’s place right now, you would want the truth. after the date, it was the least yeonjun deserved.

“wait,” you blurt out to him, and he tilts his head.

“yes?”

“before you go,” you exhale. at this point, you’re chewing at your bottom lip intensely, scared to hurt such a kind boy. “i just— told a guy i liked him. i’m still fresh out of the rejection phase and i don’t know if i can really date right now. i know this is unfair to you and i never should have—“

“hey, hey,” he smiles comfortingly towards your direction. he places a hand on your shoulder, “i get it.”

“we can still be friends, yeah?”

you can’t hide the surprised look on your face, out of all the reactions you could have possibly earned, you certainly did not expect that one.

“how can you not be upset? no offense it was just.. a shit thing of me to do. you can be angry if you want to be.”

yeonjun shakes his head, “i mean, i wish i could have known sooner, but there’s really no big deal. you seem like a pretty cool friend, i really don’t mind.”

you’re shocked, that’s for sure, but grateful. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone as nice as him, and your situation was like a “wrong place, wrong time” kind of thing. it was too bad, really.

“i still think we should hang out more often,” he comments, and you agree.

“text me anytime,” you tell him, “i’m still really sorry.”

“i told you already, it’s fine. my ego is a bit hurt, but i’ll message you tomorrow or something. i wouldn’t mind hanging out as friends.”

he waves goodbye happily, still maintaining the same level of content that he held during the date. you still feel a bit of remorse in your being, and you hope that the person who ends up with yeonjun doesn’t take advantage of him. with intentions as good as himself, you know that it’s easy to get corrupted.

your feet ache a bit, the elevator ride up slower than you remember. your socks are nearly slipping off of your feet into your white converse, making you shift awkwardly as the bright elevator light flickers.

when you finally reach the tenth floor, you sigh in relief. you exit the elevator quietly, careful to not make any noise. when you’re about to insert your keys into the lock, you hear another door click open.

your head turns, eyes landing on those of mark lee’s. he’s frozen, staring at your dressed up figure. there are goosebumps formed upon your legs, and you curse yourself for choosing a dress instead of pants. he clears his throat, eyes unable to tear off of you.

“you’re home,” he states the obvious. you wish you just had opened the door and walked in, instead of standing there while bearing through an awkward, unwanted conversation.

“sorry, i don’t know if you saw my texts but i knocked earlier and jaemin said you were out.”

you purse your lips, your jaw clenched. “yeah, i went to go hang out with a friend.” you don’t owe him a story, nor did you owe him an explanation. you still tell him though, and you’re unsure as to why.

“i know,” he inhales deeply, his chest rising. he’s no longer in his outfit from earlier, instead he’s in a matching set of grey pajamas. “yeonjun posted a picture of you together.”

“you know him?” you question, but you already feel like you know the answer.

“we have music composition together, i didn’t know you two knew each other,” he admits, making you bite the inside of your cheek. you were debating on continuing the conversation or just going inside, but something makes you want to stay, keeping your feet planted. of course mark knew who yeonjun was, that was just your luck.

“it was a date,” the words fall out of your mouth faster than they register in your brain. it’s like you’re trying to show off, a choice you were not proud of, but you still let it happen. 

“o-oh,” he stutters out, caught off guard, like always. “i didn’t know you two were that close.” half of you is proud of your choosing of words, the other half is questioning why the hell you were still here. you finally resume unlocking your front door, while you assume that mark can’t seem to grasp the fact that you went on a date.

you’re halfway through the door, until mark’s voice pipes up again.

“boyfriend?”

you stop in your tracks, carefully selecting your next words before shutting the door. it’s not much, but you result in a simple,

“no.”

—

mark doesn’t send you a good morning text the following day. 

all you are left with is the texts from last night, when you were out with yeonjun. they ranged from “wyd?” to “wanna get food with me?”, and although you were technically evading his company, you felt a little bad. you couldn’t forget mark’s shocked face from yesterday, his eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.

but, you did receive texts from yeonjun. he wasn’t lying when he said he would be contacting you the next day. you had slept twelve hours, waking up at noon to see a few messages from the tall black haired boy.

he had spammed you, insisting that you do something to get to know each other better. you stretched your arms and legs, not extremely eager to get out of bed on one of your free days, but it was yeonjun. the guy you had kind of lead on, if you could even call it that.

your eyelids still have a lingering heaviness to them when yeonjun greets you, and you desperately wanted coffee. your coffee addiction may not be as bad as jaemin’s, but you are sure that you would not survive without it. 

yeonjun’s presence changes the energy in the room, lighting it up like a spark. his loud voice and silly demeanour is what catches the attention of many, almost making you want to hang your head low from second hand embarrassment. you knew that the restaurant you two sat in was probably silent before the both of you came in.

it’s funny, you think, about how fun it was to be around yeonjun (even though you two had literally just met). you decide that he’s probably the type of guy who does this a lot, clicking with everyone he met. you have to say it’s an admirable trait to possess, and with a face like his, it will get him places.

“what do you feel like ordering?” he asks, staring down at the menu. you drag your fingers along the plastic covering, humming. the ice in yeonjun’s glass cup clinks as he takes a sip, raising an eyebrow at you.

“i’ve never been here before,” you say, your tongue poking at the flesh on the inside of your cheek, “but the house special looks really good.”

you take a hold of your own glass, sipping down on the cold water. it seems even colder since you had a piece of mint gum before it.

“oh!” his eyes light up almost immediately, “mark knows how to make that, it’s really good, he made it for a potluck once.”

you nearly choke on your water, hovering your hand over your mouth. “mark? why are you bringing up mark?”

“aren’t you two neighbours? he said you two were pretty close,” he replies back casually. you’re a little confused, to say the least. why would mark and yeonjun be talking about you? how do you even come up in a conversation? 

“i mean, yeah i guess. why was he talking to you about me?”

“last night after i dropped you off, he asked me if we were seeing each other. of course i said no, but he told me all about you two living next to each other and that you guys are like, best buds.”

you hold back a sarcastic laugh, “did he now?”

yeonjun nods, taking your menu and stacking it on top of his own. he places them to the side for the server to take. “why? is something going on between you two or..”

you watch as yeonjun realizes what you meant, and you have to admit that he’s a fast learner. his lips form into the shape of an ‘o’, then he purses them awkwardly. 

“it was him..”

“mhm.”

there’s something in you that just makes you so upset for falling for mark. it makes you disappointed in yourself, only because you two started getting to know each other a month back. people say you can’t control how you feel or who you like, but that’s why it bothers you so much. it’s because you aren’t in control.

“he sounded really protective of you,” yeonjun drops the comment casually, waving over a waitress. you don’t like the way your heart beats faster when thinking of mark being protective. your current thoughts seem absurd in your opinion, the feeling of the faint tug of your heartstrings rising in your chest.

“he said you meant a lot to him, not sure if that changes anything..”

it doesn’t, but it’s nice to hear. there’s no change of heart because you know how mark means that, in a friendly way. mark catching you and yeonjun on a date wasn’t going to change that, no matter how much you desperately wanted it to. 

yeonjun orders the food with a friendly expression resting on his face. the ring of the restaurant’s delivery tablet makes you flinch, the sound louder than the chattering of other civilians. it’s cloudy outside, but not raining. the clouds are a light grey, yet it’s still bright outside; the type of bright that when you look up at the sky, it strains your eyes. the waitress leaves with your menus in hand, your eyes glued to a spot on the wall as you zone out.

you used to be capable of containing your emotions, but you weren’t as confident in that ability anymore. you’re sure mark is the culprit, but you don’t think you should keep blaming mark for every single change in you. it’s normal for people’s personalities to adjust and alter, but you felt like this change was too drastic for your liking.

you begin to overthink why mark didn’t text you that morning. the reasonable cause would most likely be that it was obvious you didn’t want to speak to him, and that he was just giving you your space, but you keep going back to a different thought. there’s something that makes you wonder if it was because of what happened last night. it’s a slim chance, but you can’t help but factor that into the situation.

yeonjun talks throughout the meal as your mind wanders elsewhere. the food smells extraordinary, filling your nostrils and making your mouth water, and you’re able to down it quickly. you swear that the food is devoured as soon as it was placed on the table.

“what do you like about mark?”

the question that pops out of yeonjun’s mouth baffles you. it’s not everyday you ask a person you barely know why they like who they like. it’s different, to say the least. something you don’t mind answering but also something you’re not sure if you’re completely comfortable with.

you’re fidgeting your fingers under the table, heart racing just thinking of him. you can’t put your finger on why, it just happens. it’s something you’re also not very used to.

you don’t have to think hard about it, mark is a lovable person. you don’t think there’s anything you dislike about mark, or at least you can’t think of anything on the spot. 

“he cares,” you start, “but not just the normal friend way, if that makes sense? he’s the type of guy who would make a copy of your house key because he knows that you lose it all the time. he tries his best to pay attention to the little details about a person, and never pushes past their comfort zone.”

you think you could talk about mark for ten minutes straight, but you save yeonjun the time and you save yourself the embarrassment. yeonjun nods, processing the words in his brain as he slowly leans back.

“why do you ask?” you finally question him.

“it’s always fun to hear why a person is interested in another,” he replies in a simple, casual manner. “gets a person excited about what they’re talking about.”

he’s not wrong — you can always see the light in someone’s eyes when they talk about things they’re interested in. whether it’s an activity or a person, their emotions stay the same.

“i also needed to know about my competition,” he winks playfully, making you shake your head and smile. if only you had met yeonjun first, you could have happily been in a relationship. but no, you had to meet an idiot who didn’t know the difference between a sweatshirt and a hoodie until you explained it to him.

if only you had met anybody else first.

—

the day passes by quickly, yeonjun’s entire aura making it fun. the hours tick by without you even noticing, and before you know it, yeonjun had dropped you off at home. he waves you goodbye with a sweet grin on his face, his pearly whites flashing and his skin glistening in the sun.

you bid your goodbyes with content, your body aching to just go lie down on your own comfy mattress. jaemin’s snicker is obvious when you enter the house, which is followed by the roll of your eyes. your energy feels like it was drained from your body, you craved nothing more than a three hour nap right now.

your eyelids are heavy, the legs holding you up feeling shaky. you couldn’t help but wonder what mark was doing, it was a bad habit that you just couldn’t quite get rid of. would he try to talk to you today? are you finally getting the space you needed? did you really want that space?

the never-ending questions swirl around in your mind, creating a lingering pain that makes your eyes squint. instead of going to your room, you settle on the couch, plopping down with a groan of satisfaction.

“stop going on dates, i’m gonna lose my best friend,” jaemin whines in an annoying, high pitched voice from the dining table. you stare at the ceiling, the sunlight seeping through the windows. 

“just because i hang out with a guy doesn’t mean we are dating,” you remark, almost in a snappy tone. 

“yeah totally, not like you went on a date with him last night either,” he responds sarcastically, highlighting words in his textbook at the same time.

“it was, but this one wasn’t,” you sigh, “told him i wasn’t ready for that stuff.”

“why? you two would be like an it couple.”

you make a disgusted look on your face from jaemin’s choice of words, staring over at him. “first of all, no. second of all, i just got rejected by mark! not like a few fish and a cute guy can change that.”

“what about binging kdramas and a cute guy who’s name starts with j and ends with aemin?”

“please, for the love of god, never say that again.”

jaemin giggles in his seat, “by the way, could you throw out the garbage?”

you glare at him. he’s looking down at his books, but you know that he can feel your cold eyes on him. “why can’t you do it?”

“i’m lazy.”

you agree to take out the waste, but not without a little fight before it. you had grumbled and complained, but figured it wouldn’t change much. you had rolled your eyes and got up, jaemin watching you with a shit eating grin on his face while you carried the garbage out of your apartment.

jaemin and you shared the housework, maybe not evenly but the both of you still had chores to do around the house. sometimes, it irritates you, but that annoyance is usually long forgotten when jaemin cooks a big meal at night. you do most of the cleaning, while he makes up for it by creating food dishes and doing laundry (sometimes).

you figure your misfortune is just about right when you spot mark, who is also holding a bag full of recycling items that needs to be brought down to the garbage room. you swallow harshly, holding your door open before deciding that you should just wait. 

“hi,” mark says, spotting you with ease. you close your eyes in frustration, turning back around to smile awkwardly at him. 

“hey again.”

you despised this. the unpleasant greetings and tension filled rooms, they certainly did not fit your taste at all. you’re reminded of why you didn’t want to tell mark you liked him, you didn’t want this to happen. you two had been in a good place before, this felt like you were going backwards instead of forwards.

your eyes are weirdly darting around the room, avoiding his gaze at all cost.

“sorry i didn’t text you this morning.. i completely forgot.”

you don’t know why he’s telling you this in the first place, you were the one who wanted space, and you would have to be stupid to not realize that. you guess that you overestimated him. 

you’re pretty much silent for the entire exchange, waiting for him to just go and press the button to the elevator so you could go back inside. 

“weird we only see each other in the hallway nowadays,” he fills the silence, you just smile and nod. you’re unsure of what to say, you never did well in situations similar to this one. you usually made a snarky remark or just ignored them.

“do you want to hang out or something?” out of all the things mark lee could ask, you were certain that was one of the stupidest things he could think of. 

“no, thanks,” you reply, pursing your lips. the exchange of looks you send each other makes your heart pound. he appears hurt, possibly offended, while you wait for the conversation to be over.

the hum of the red exit sign is the only thing you can hear, but only for a small moment in time. you know there’s nothing you can gain from these small interactions, and you’re not expecting your cold attitude to result in the reciprocation of feelings. pushing him away was the best thing you could do for yourself, at least until your own emotions die down.

“will we ever go back to normal?”

you found yourself constantly asking that question as well. along with “how long will it take us to recover?” the unfortunate thing was, you had no idea. you don’t know if mark would look at you the same, would he start seeing you as the girl who had a crush on him, or would he continue to see you as his friend, y/n?

“this is normal,” the lie is painfully obvious, but you weren’t in the mood to have a deep conversation with mark lee. especially with a black garbage bag in your hand, smelling of food stained wrappers and rotten bananas. you don’t know how much time you have wasted, standing outside of your front door hoping that no unknown liquid is seeping onto the carpeted floor from the bag.

“nothing about this is ordinary,” he sighs, “it’s only been a few days, but i’m always wondering when you’ll be able to stand staying in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”

“that’s not for you to determine.”

the contrast of your day spent with yeonjun and your bump in with mark was ever so different, a type of difference that you did not enjoy. your head and heart start to pound a little harder, louder as well. you always knew that mark and you had a habit of sitting in silence for a little bit, but it was usually comforting. this silence made you anxious for what was to come. 

you assume that mark had given up on trying to reason with you, or he had stopped trying to make you feel better, judging by his lack of volume. his eyes are glued to your own, waiting for a move to be made. you’re frozen, your face absent of emotion as you perform your best to maintain calm.

“i’m sorry.”

his voice is soft, barely a whisper, and it makes you feel awful. mark was probably blaming himself for not liking you back. he was just that type of guy, and you knew that. the thought eats away at you, your grip on the garbage bag tightening. your back straightens, an uneven breath flowing out of your nose.

it’s not his fault, and you know it. he can’t help who he likes, and neither could you. you wished you could point fingers at someone for your current state of events, mark, yourself, anyone. the truth was, you couldn’t. it was just bad timing, and bad luck.

“it’s okay,” you say quietly. your face quickly shifts into one full of remorse, but you felt too embarrassed to say anything more. 

“you going to throw out that garbage?” he asks, too casually for the current situation. he points towards the bag of trash, and you look down at it. 

“another time,” you smile softly, making him frown in disappointment. you assume that maybe he had thought of this as your turning point, maybe he expected everything to return back to the way it was. you just couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted to. 

you turn around, entering your house again. your back pressed against the door, you stare up at the ceiling. the garbage bag drops to the ground with a large thump, a hand covering your mouth to muffle a quiet cry. 

you have never cried about feelings not being mutual, but you realize that there were many things you have not done before mark appeared in your life.

maybe your life was like a love story, just not the ones written in your typical romance novels. it felt like a much more angsty, stomach churning, and confusing one. not something you necessarily liked, but it couldn’t be changed.

you bury your face in your hands, stress overcoming you. you then pick up the garbage bag again, hoping mark would be gone by now as you reach to open the door.

to your surprise, mark falls back first into your floor, a bag full of recyclables still being held in his hand. his face is a bright red, stumbling to dust off his legs as he jumps up.

“sorry, i um — i had my back against your door and—“

“you can go now.”

“oh my god, thank you.”

—

the last thing you wanted to do was go on a double date with people you barely knew, roaming around a crowded night market while the smell of overpriced food filled your nose. unfortunately, that is exactly where you found yourself the next night. 

yeonjun had texted you in the morning, practically begging you to be his date for a night. he insisted it was platonic, only because he had bragged to his friends that he had gone on a date with “the y/n” (as they called you). funny enough, they hadn’t believed him, so he ended up spamming your phone at 10 am to accompany him and his friends.

you could barely find your own personal space at the night market. it was flooded with noisy people, the setting sun shining onto their skin. you stuck closely to yeonjun, as well as his friends eunji and woohyun. 

honestly, you had a feeling that the only reason you came was because you felt as if you owed it to yeonjun. yes, you enjoyed his company, but not enough to make you want to go on a double date with him and some strangers. 

“what do you think of this, y/n?” yeonjun turns to you, holding a pair of pink heart sunglasses in his left hand, and a pair of light blue ones in the right. you look at him, eyeing both items.

“weren’t the frog hats enough?”

he pouts, “but these would suit us so well! don’t you think?”

“i don’t think—“

before you can finish your sentence, he’s pushing the pink shades onto your face with no warning. he nearly pokes you in the eye, but it doesn’t seem like he notices. he looks oddly proud of himself, leaning back to see how the glasses frame your face.

“perfect!” he exclaims, clasping his hands together. he puts the other pair of sunglasses on his own face, then links arms with you. he pulls out his phone, raising it to take a picture with you. he also takes it without saying anything, getting the full “candid” effect as you were in the middle of eyeing the food of people passing by.

“i’m buying these,” he says, taking both of the glasses into his hands. you have no time to protest as he darts towards the cash register, leaving you with his two friends that you barely talked to all night.

although everything here fit your aesthetically pleasing mental list, you couldn’t lie about the fact that it was stupidly overpriced. you weren’t exactly dying to spend all your money, so you refrained from buying too much. it was times like this that made you ask yourself why you quit your job as a retail worker.

you really only talked to yeonjun here, you sparked up small talk with eunji and woohyun, but they seemed like they were too focused on each other to care. 

you’re finally given something to do when your phone buzzes in your back pocket, making you flinch. you reach to grab it, reading the first notification that appears on the screen.

mark [8:39pm] you’re at the night market with yeonjun?

of course yeonjun would post about you two tonight. you learned that he really liked to document the things he does, and although you didn’t criticize him for it, it was a pain in the ass when the picture included you. you would either gain constant teasing from jaemin, or random messages from the one and only, mark lee.

you grit your teeth together, staring at the notification on the screen.

you [8:40pm] what’s it to you?

you ask yourself if you were being too harsh on him, and you are sure that your friends would tell you that you were being too hard on mark. you’re staring at your screen, anticipating a response. the noise around you gives you a headache, hearing almost everyone’s conversations. your heart is beating uncontrollably fast, thumbs shakily hovering over your screen.

“y/n~” yeonjun chimes in a sing song voice, happily handing you the pair of sunglasses. his eyes flicker from your phone, to your unamused and obviously irritated face.

“who are you texting?” he questions, eyes squinting. 

“no one,” you reply as casually as possible, about to put your phone away. yeonjun is quick to snatch it from your hands, reading the words on the screen. 

“you’re kind of invading my privacy—”

“mark is here too.”

shit. you swear you’ve been seeing mark way more ever since you decided to avoid his presence, almost like fate wanted to see you suffer from your terrible excuse of a love life. 

“this is your chance y/n,” yeonjun smiles, placing the phone in your hand.

“chance for what?”

“maybe rekindle your friendship? you seem so tense when his name is mentioned— you told me about the situation, you two could be friends again.”

you nearly snicker at the statement. you weren’t even sure if you were ready, so how could anyone else state their opinion on it? you look back at your phone, and yeonjun was right. 

mark [8:41 pm] i’m here too lol

at this point, you just know that fate is deliberately fucking with you. running away from problems was never your style of dealing with things, but then again, this was your first time falling for someone like mark. god — you were just praying that you wouldn’t randomly bump into him, but thinking about the way you two met, you felt like your chances of seeing him were extremely high.

your anxiety starts overcoming you as you whip your head around, making sure that mark wasn’t anywhere near you. odd enough, as much as you dreaded running into him, another part of you wanted to see his face. it may sound cliché, but it felt like your heart wanted him to come up to you and just give you a hug. 

you just craved normality again; normality that mark stripped from you.

“i can’t be here,” you breathe out, tears welling up in your eyes. the built up, overwhelming tension the past few days was finally catching up to you. you sucked in your bottom lip — you were finally breaking. 

“hey, hey, y/n, you’re going to be okay,” yeonjun stands in front of you, engulfing you into an embrace. you bring your arms under his armpits, holding onto his shoulders. you were so tired of feeling this way, that sense of hopelessness. you hadn’t ever felt this way about a person, and you were scared that you wouldn’t be able to get over him.

“it’s just mark, what’s the worst that could happen?” yeonjun says in a comforting tone.

“anything could happen,” you retorted, sniffling into his shirt. yeonjun uses his hand to lightly stroke your hair. the thought that yeonjun was the only person who has really seen your stoic facade crumble makes you want to laugh. you barely knew him, and here he was, trying to seize the amount of nervousness coursing through your veins.

you didn’t know how to stop this constant state of hurt and self pity, you also didn’t know when this avoiding of mark would end. 

“y/n,” a voice breathes out, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. you already know who is standing behind you, which makes you just want to act like you heard nothing. yeonjun was too busy looking at the other accessories that lined the small carts to even notice. you’re unsure if yeonjun was purposely trying to look busy, or if he was genuinely just interested in the pretty jewelry. either way, you couldn’t turn to yeonjun for help.

there’s a small nervous tingle that forms in your chest, which runs through to your fingers. you swallow your pride, turning around. there, mark lee stood in all his glory, holding bags in both hands. 

“hi,” you spew out awkwardly, looking around while smiling uncomfortably. 

“oh,” he says, eyes flashing to yeonjun, then back to you, “i’m sorry if i’m interrupting something.”

almost right on time, yeonjun whips his head back on with a gentle smile on his face, “nope! not interrupting anything. i’ll be right back.”

you made an internal reminder to yourself to scold yeonjun the next time you got the chance. in the meantime, you were stuck with mark, with a huge crowd surrounding the two of you. he was so close to you, just staring with his bottom lip tucked in. you were unsure of what to do, whether to leave or to stay, to say something or be quiet, you were just fighting a battle with your own mind.

“i thought you two weren’t dating?” mark lets out.

“we aren’t.”

“but you spend so much—”

“what are you doing, mark?” you question, but in a rhetorical way. you’re irritated, no, beyond irritated. “you rejected me. you can’t just show up wherever i go and ask if i’m dating someone, do you understand how messed up that is? you can’t keep putting ideas in my head, i’m not ready to open up to you again. why can’t you see that?”

mark is silent throughout your entire rant, possibly taken aback, but he should have seen this coming anyway. 

“my dating life does not concern you, and i already mentioned that yeonjun is not my boyfriend. why do you care so much?”

at this point, you’re sure you’re fuming. you were so frustrated you swore you could feel the tears building up in your eyes, but you ignored it. you were just glad that the crowd was loud enough for your voice to be easily unnoticed, only for mark to hear. you can see his eyes softening as your breath was becoming heavier, your chest visibly growing and shaking.

“i’m so sorry,” he says again. you’re sick of that phrase, hearing it so often made you forget the meaning. 

“if you were sorry you would leave me alone,” you nearly cried. you were done with trying to maintain some sort of friendship with mark, he just didn’t get it. you were so tired of the same routine.

“everyday you text me, every time i see you, is a reminder that this is all we can ever be. it may not be your intention, but you have to understand that it hurts me.”

the guilt in mark’s eyes start becoming more evident, his mouth opens, but no noise comes out. he’s dumbstruck, tears forming in your eyes. he takes a step towards you, and you take a step back. he keeps walking forward, though. he’s close enough so that you can see the details of his skin, and your heart pounds once again.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. you try to push away, but he doesn’t let go. “i’m sorry,” he repeats again, burying his head into your shoulder.

“you can’t keep saying that,” your tears finally begin to fall as you can’t do anything but melt in his arms. your eyes continue to pour out onto his bright blue hoodie while he holds you close. 

“it’s okay,” he comforts you, which reminds you of why you were crying in the first place. you harshly shove him off, forgetting about the other people around you. 

“it’s not okay! you can’t just do that–”

“yoojung asked me out.”

your mouth parts slightly as you stand frozen. you didn’t know if it was possible for your heart to break twice, but if it was, then yours just did. you muster a tightlipped pity smile.

“oh,” you manage to say, dropping your hands. “i-i’m happy for you..”

is this what life was meant to be for you? an endless cycle of heartbreak? were you just never meant to have anyone? you don’t know why you’re so devastated, you knew this would happen. she was just so beautiful and so confident in herself, and mark was mark. he was the typical boy next door (literally). you felt as if all the energy had been drained out of you as you stared at him.

“i said no.”

you expected yourself to be happy in this moment, but there was so much confusion lacing your thoughts. 

“why?”

“because-”

“no.” you stop him, “you’re not about to tell me you said no because of me. you can’t just show up and tell me you said no to yoojung because you like me. i won’t let you. i did not cry myself to sleep several nights for you to come back to me and say something like that. my feelings aren’t a game, mark. and my love life isn’t a book.”

“i would do anything to make it up to someone like you,” he puts his soft hand onto your cheek, as he searches your eyes for any sign of forgiveness. 

god, you hate to admit that this is what you’ve wanted this entire time. for your entire time apart, you just wanted him to do exactly this. you try your best to fight it off though, only because of how embarrassed you were.

“y-you can’t.”

shit. you’re stuttering.

“i’m serious, y/n,” this time, mark puts both hands on either sides of your face.

“i know i’m confusing you right now, i-i know that i put you through so much trying to figure out my own feelings. it wasn’t fair of me! you deserve the best, really.. i thought about it ever since you told me. it messed me up so bad. i couldn’t get you out of my head, i didn’t know if it was because i missed you as a friend o-or there was more to it..”

“stop saying that! you’ve had feelings for yoojung for ages. how can that just go away?”

mark sighs, dropping his hands. “i don’t know, dude. maybe after i started talking to you more and more, my feelings for her eventually just became an infatuation. all i know is when she wanted to be more than friends, i knew that i didn’t want that.”

at this point, you’re more than confused. you’re completely baffled.

“it sounds stupid. i am stupid. i just don’t know how to tell you this, i don’t want to be with her. i want to just be with you, whether or not if it’s as friends again or.. you know. if you don’t see me like that anymore, i completely understand and i’ll try to get over how i feel. but then again, just say the word and i’ll never talk to you again. i promise you.”

there’s an annoying amount of feelings clouding your brain, the grip that mark had on your heart was beginning to ache a little more as the words fell off his lips. in the end, you spent days hurting because of him, and you hate to say that it was never his fault, because that’s the truth.

“you know i don’t want that,” you say quietly.

his eyes widen, “really?”

“i’ve been feeling terrible lately because of our situation, but whether we’re in a relationship or not, the time i spent with you was the most fun i’ve ever had. but you have to understand that it’s taken a huge toll on my feelings.”

he goes quiet again, taking your hand into his. “do you think you would want to be in a relationship with me?”

there it is. what you have been wanting to hear for so long, when he finally says it, you can feel your heart bounce.

you bring your lips to his cheek, giving it a small peck. you’re not sure if that was the right move at the moment, but you’re glad that his lips curve into a cute grin while a tint of pink covers his cheeks.

“i’m kind of new to this.. so was that a yes?” he asks, earning a small giggle from you. 

“i don’t know, i mean if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, then it’s a yes.”

“thank god,” he lets out, pulling you into a warm hug. “i don’t know what my life would be without you. and i swear, i won’t hurt you like that again. i’m sorry i took so long to figure things out, i just didn’t want to mess you up even more.”

his arms are wrapped around your waist, almost like he’s afraid to let you go. the business of the night market thankfully does not ruin your moment, but enhances it. he pulls away but still keeps his arms around you, looking into your eyes.

“can i kiss you?” he sounds so nervously cute, you don’t answer him. all you do is initiate it, leaning in to press your lips onto his own.

it’s relieving, being able to do this years after your first kiss. his lips still taste of watermelon flavoured chapstick as both of your eyes flutter closed. the kiss is soft, it pretty much fit everything you had been dreaming of ever since you started liking mark. 

you both pull away, looking like the happiest people ever. 

“hm, you still use the same chapstick?” mark says as the mood continues to lighten. 

“i could ask you the same thing.”

“fair enough.”

when you pull away from each other to stand side by side, he doesn’t stop holding your hand. he keeps them interlocked, his thumb stroking the back of your palm. 

“would it be weird if we called this a date?” he says into your ear.

“first date and first kiss in one night? you’re feeling confident today, what did you do to the real mark lee?” you jokingly reply, the tears from earlier beginning to dry.

“oh shit you’re right.. is this too fast?” 

the awkward mark returns faster than he left, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“no stupid, of course we can call this a date.”

he sighs in relief, pressing a kiss to your temple.

yeonjun comes back with wide eyes and an open mouth, staring directly at you two. “what the hell did i miss?”

you shrug your arms, “not that much.”

the rest of the night is fun filled shopping, matching rings, and delicious food. as soon as the photos were uploaded, jaemin was quick to call you and scream in your ear about how happy he was for you, and how he knew in the end that everything would work out.

so, yes, you do not think your life is like a romantic novel. it’s quite the opposite, actually, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. in spite of the hurt, you thought it was all worth it, and mark does not hesitate to agree with that statement.

[honeym4rk]

skinship - kisses

in a relationship where your boyfriend finds physical affection rather awkward, you’d best believe it would’ve taken some time for him to warm up to the idea of skinship- skin to skin, a hand on his, cheeks crashing together as close as possible. but the patience comes at a good cost- mark has several ways to close the distance between you.

previous (lightswitch)

summary: it shouldn't be this hard to go about kissing mark.

-

something you never expected at the start of your relationship was mark’s initial hesitance to kiss you.

of course, naturally, it takes some time for two people to cross their own boundaries of comfort, to enter, invade, and conquer another’s territory of personal space. some people forego this careful caution in a budding relationship, and dive right into one another. neither you or mark are some people. 

and it’s not that you think mark is particularly bold: you know he isn’t very upfront and confident in expressing his feelings for you. you’ve known this from the very start, when his friends had to literally push him to ask you out, and the very awkward first conversation you had. you know he can get a bit shy, but part of you always thought, that every now and then, he’d have bursts of the courage that he has when he’s on stage. mark can definitely be suave, and cool, and charming, but mostly when he’s in his element and knows exactly what he’s doing.

right now, in this moment, he has no idea what he’s doing.

the credits of the Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle are starting to roll, and you’re stuck frozen in the burrow you’ve made in the fold of the sofa, head resting on his shoulder as his arm is wrapped loosely around your side. it’s been holding you like this since the halfway point of the movie- you didn’t notice, but he let out a sigh of relief and satisfaction when he succeeded in placing it there. he stretched, arms going as high as they possibly could, before his limb wandered and found its way pulling you closer to him. cliche, he knows, but a win for him nonetheless. he had to hold back his grin when you leaned into his body.

at first, you could feel his fingers ghosting the frayed threads of your jean shorts, like his wrist was stiff and his hand was afraid to open up so his palm would make full contact with the skin of your thigh. but as the movie progressed, and he constantly broke into his cute, little, hearty giggle that somehow sent his entire body into motion, his hand started to ease, fingers drumming on your supple skin, drawing circles on it, accidentally hitting it when he laughs a bit too hard.

he gulps, and breathes, “wow, that movie was not as bad as i thought it was.”

“yeah, it was pretty good.” neither of you make an effort to move out of the position. a slight shift could mean this rare moment of comforting proximity that you waited so long for would vanish in an instant, like a bubble popping after floating around in glee. so you force your head to continue facing the screen, eyes boring into the tiny, white words that are scrolling away. 

before you know it, even the credits have finally come to a close, and your eyes are fixated on the next netflix recommendation, Jumanji: The Next Level that’s about to play in 5, 4, 3, 2, 

your head snaps up to turn, still balanced on the ball of his shoulder. when you face him, you’re staring right at him. he does that stupidly attractive thing where he turns his head towards you before his eyes land on yours, and your eyes are now locked on his. you bite your lip to ease just a little bit of your restlessness, and this movement causes his eyes to dart to your lips for just a split second. 

he gulps again.

screw it, you’re gonna have to say something.

“are you gonna kiss me?” oh my god. not that. stupid, stupid, self-sabotage.

his hand flies away from your leg, retreating back to him so he can make huge, sporadic gestures that speak for his panic and awkwardness.

“uhhh, i-” his hand is rubbing at his nose, and though it’s dark and his head is turned away from you once again, the light from the television lets you see the pink tint that begins to dust his cheeks. “i mean, if you, if you, um, want me to,”

you don’t know why you find this so cute- you literally felt just as awkward as he does a second ago, but seeing him freak out somehow fortifies you to prod at him a little more. besides, you realise that if you don’t make a move now, after at least a month and a half of going out with him, mark’s probably never going to. 

your face scrunches up into a chuckle and you don’t take your eyes off him- “well, do you want to?”

“i mean, i-i totally do want to,” his hand is on his chest, and it comes down as he points at you with his thumb, “i’m just really scared that you- don’t? i don’t know,” mark leans forward from the couch to run his fingers through his hair, and you tug at his shirt sleeve multiple times to pull him back.

“i do, mark, i really do.”

“um, okay! great. cool,” he squeaks out, and his movements to almost close the gap between your faces are so mechanic, and panic settles onto his mind and his features, “oh, but i, uh, sorry if i’m a bad kisser or anything, i don’t really get much uh, practice in this, haha.”

you have to turn your face away to hold back a giggle at this cute, shy mess of a boy, before you finally compose yourself, and let one hand gently cup the side of his jaw, and reassuring, “it’s fine. sorry if i’m no good either.”

you smile, and plant the briefest kiss on the corner of his mouth. then you let go. 

“now, how was that?” 

“t-that wasn’t even a kiss!” 

“really?” you laugh, bringing your legs up onto the couch to kneel and face him completely. this time, you hold both of his cheeks in both of your hands before closing your eyes and pressing your lips on his, for a while longer now, and you’re just about to pull away when you feel fingertips ghosting up your jaw, and feel him tilt his head so that his mouth fits perfectly in the crevices of yours. 

“what about now?”

“better.”

he shifts his body to fully face you too, and your mouths meld together just a few more times, and the feeling of his fingers gripping at you, lips chasing after yours, drowns out the background noise of kevin hart bickering with dwayne johnson. you’re melted into this moment, and you don’t want it to end.

-

another thing you never really expected from mark was- well, his fear of sudden pecks, those that catch him off-guard, those that come when he least expects them to. they don’t give him any time to react, or prepare, or take a breath so he doesn’t combust when your lips touch his skin.

you’ve made out a few times with him so far in the couple of times you’ve seen him since that very night, and so you thought that he’d appreciate the quick, little kisses, but you probably shouldn’t have assumed.

he’s getting ready to leave your apartment after another movie night, and just before he walks out the door, he hugs you goodbye, and before he can pull back, you sneak a kiss on the tiny corner of his mouth that’s turned up into a smile. or at least, you try to.

he flings himself out of your grasp, head jerking back so fast and hard that you almost tumble into him from the momentum, and both of you stare in complete shock at one another.

“oh, ummm, sorrysorrysorry, haha, awwwkwaaaard!” your hands fly to the air in surrender as if you’ve been caught red-handed, and your feet take slow, tiny steps away from him.

“that’s my bad, oh my god i’m sorry,” your words are drowned out by his, and every cell in you is cringing from embarrassment and from worry and fear that you’ve done something wrong, something you shouldn't have done, did you go too far? are you stupid for thinking that would be okay?

“sorry, i, uh, i think it’s like, muscle memory to move away because haechan and the guys, well, mostly haechan, always tries to do that kinda thing. i-it’s not you! i swear! you’re great! haechan, not so, you know what i mean? like i wanna kiss you too but in that moment my body prepared for fight or flight, you know? oh my god i’m so sorry.” he’s doing that thing with his gestures again, frantically waving his hands to ensure you visually comprehend that it’s not your fault.

this revelation comes like a knife slicing through the tension that once was, and you hide your face behind your hands in relief, giggling at the stark weirdness of it all, but you also can’t shake off the tinge of sadness from the rejection. it wasn’t directed towards you, you know, but you just can’t help but feel a little taken aback by what happened. 

he grabs your wrists, pulling you towards him, and encouraging you to try again.

“okay, go on. i’m ready now. sorry. just not used to this.” his cheeks are a deep shade of red, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

you’re smiling throughout the entire, brief, kiss goodbye.

nearly six months have passed, and you try to give him a peck every now and then, just to see if he still retracts in fear, and you can see him tense up every time you try. 

so you stop. 

the last time you’d tried was right before he left for tour, and in your endless contemplation of your relationship (you had way too much time on your hands not to fall down the rabbit hole of thinking), you come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just something you don’t have to do to mark. with mark, for mark. besides, there are other ways to express your love for him anyways- he doesn’t cringe when you run your fingers through his hair, or when you wrap your arms around him in a bear hug from behind. probably because he doesn’t mind when his friends do it too. and it’s not like you can’t kiss him entirely, you just have to make sure he’s fully aware of the sparks that are about to fly when your lips touch, instead of the little zaps of static that come when he least expects them to, the ones that he shies away from.

-

it’s been a week since he’s returned. a week since your suffering has finally come to an end, a week since the longing that filled your entire being to the brim finally drained out when your body collided into his when you embraced after what felt like an eternity. it took everything in you not to jump at him when you saw him at your door, so instead of fighting against your growing excitement, you run straight into his arms, hopping as his hands link together to prop you up. 

it’s hard not to tear up- the sight of mark in the flesh is overwhelming and sensational and you’re burying your face into his neck, hands playing with the hair at his nape. what used to be short, clipped ends that pricked at your fingers have now grown into something like a mullet- you remember when you saw photos of him online the other day and started crying because it was a reminder of just how much time was passing without him around. you’re crying, now, too, and mark starts to giggle you can hear just how tired he is from the grogginess of his voice- “aw, babe, are you crying?” 

“no.” he tries to nudge at you so you can pull your head back, but you stick to him like a koala wrapped around a tree until he lets go of your legs and tries to tickle you.

“awwwww, nooo! you’re making me want to cry too!” he whines, and you wipe your tears away on the sleeve of your sweater before finally looking up at his face through your glossy eyes. his face has changed, too. his eyebags are puffy, his cheeks are sunken in the slightest bit, and his jawline is more prominent than you remember it to be. his face feels just a little smaller in your hands when you hold him, and you’re staring, wondering if it’s been so long that you’ve simply forgotten the tactile sense of touching him, feeling him.

before this can spur any more tears from escaping, you’re sent into overdrive, since he crashes his lips into yours. the initial shock flickers out and you take in the jolts of electricity coming at you, the storm of repressed zeal and yearning unleashing between the two of you. it’s been so long and yet you can still remember how mark kisses- when he turns his head to nip at more of you, his arms link around your shoulders, and then the next time one hand cups your face, his thumb trailing up and down your jaw, and eventually his mouth strays away from yours, and he plants kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, and then… he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you for you to know.

you’ve seen him almost everyday since he’s come back- he likes to come over just to catch up on sleep in your room as you study. just so you can spend a little more time in your day with one another. there have been more cuddles, more back massages (you even gave him one this time), more sitting in his lap, and he even tries to pick up the skill of braiding your hair. so far, you’ve stuck to your resolution of not stealing pecks out of the blue- so the only thing there isn’t more of is kisses. it’s good, you think- you let him initiate and then you return, so you’re sure you don’t have to take him by surprise.

tonight, you’re in the middle of submitting an assignment, when you hear your phone ping from across the room. then it pings, again and again, in succession, and you’re about to go over and read the messages before it blows up into a full phone-call, the marimba ringtone blaring through the speakers. 

it’s johnny, and in the split second before you answer the phone, you can only assume the worst has happened- you know mark’s with him, they had a company dinner to celebrate the end of their tour- what, did he get into an accident? did he pass out? did he-

“hello? y/n?” there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, and the curiosity is really starting to eat you alive.

“hey, john, what’s up? is everything okay?” you hear a groan in the background, and it turns into a long, howl-like wail that subsides into sob.

“yeah, uh, not really. you heard that? that’s uh, it’s mark. i think he’s had too much to drink, and it’s not like he’s never gotten drunk before, he’s definitely had more before, but i’ve never seen him this, uh-”

“is that y/n?!” you can hear mark hiccup, “y/n! baaaaaaby babe y/n!” he’s still crying, and you’re so worried. mark hasn’t really expressed much sadness ever since he returned, and most of the time he’s very frank with his emotions- so if he was ever sad about anything, you’d think you would’ve heard about it by now.

you can hear someone else shushing him, and johnny continues- “i think he really wants to see you right now, so can we just drop him off at yours? you can just text me your address, i don’t think he’s in a state of mind to give directions right now.” the sobbing is still ongoing, albeit a tiny bit more muted than it was before.

“um, yeah. of course. i’ll send it to you. is.. is he alright? what happened?” 

“well, i’m not very sure, actually. he was fine at the start, and then started to get all giggly like he normally does when he’s had a few glasses, and then he had a tiny bit more, and got all sappy. and now we’re uh, we’re here. he does keep mentioning that he misses you, though. which i don’t get- since i’m pretty sure he spent the entire week with you, so….”

“right….okay. thanks johnny. has he like, thrown up or anything?”

“uhh, nope. don’t think so. hopefully he doesn’t. or hopefully he does. he’ll probably feel better after.” 

“yeah. you can call me when you get here, i’ll buzz you in. see you!” 

you hang up, and are left alone only with the many questions you have, and wow, you’ve never felt more nervous in your entire life. not when you did that interview for a scholarship, or when you had your finals, or when you drove for the first time. this imminent fear is much more terrifying- especially because you were under the presumption that you knew exactly what was happening. in everything else you feared the unknown, the uncertainty of it all, but this, you feel like you were supposed to know- you thought there was nothing between you and mark, thought he was just as transparent as you had been with him.

this week had been complete bliss for you, having him in close proximity again. you’re treasuring every moment with him much more now, holding everything right to your heart, actively storing every scene of him in your hippocampus for later viewing. what could’ve gone wrong? was that not enough? what’s changed? you can only wander around your apartment as your mind runs wild. is he stressed? is this some cathartic release? does he suddenly hate what he’s doing? 

the wait is painfully long- almost making the four months without mark cease to nothing, and you try everything not to think about him. you submit the assignment, you try to beat your record on minesweeper, you watch a couple of youtube videos but lose interest, and text a close friend for emotional support. before the soul-crushing impatience can actually kill you, you hear the ringing on your intercom, and you’ve never pressed the accept button so fast. 

you don’t even wait for them to ring your doorbell. that would just cause more delay. you open the door right away, and peek outside, and the lift doors burst open and mark’s whines reverberates along the tight corridor. johnny’s carrying him piggyback, and the sight of him like this makes you so, incredibly sad- it pulls at your heartstrings and you feel suffocated by the tightening hold that it has on you. if he wasn’t so upset, maybe you would’ve laughed at how cute and snug he looks stuck onto johnny’s back.

mark’s face morphs into a giddy smile when he sees you, letting out a garbled call for you, and you greet johnny as he slips his shoes off to carry him into the living room and plop him onto the couch. you begin to untie his shoe-laces so you can get his shoes off, and you sigh, “thanks so much for your help johnny. do you need anything? need a glass of water… or?” 

“no, i’m good. taeil’s waiting downstairs, anyway.” 

you walk him to the door with mark’s shoes, placing them right at the entrance. “right. well, um, thanks again! hope you guys get back safe. i’ll see you around.” 

“yup, see you. hope he’ll be okay.”

the door is shut, and you can finally focus all your attention on the boy that’s caused you so much concern in the past thirty minutes. you sit right by his head on the couch, and when you try to get rid of the denim jacket he’s wearing, he stirs.

“baaabe?”

“hey, markie. what’s got you all upset?” you kneel on the floor so you can slip the jacket right off of him, and his swollen, tear-filled eyes are following you as you move. when you get close enough, you’re taken aback because he smooches you, missing your lips completely, and the sweet, gentle kiss lands on your chin. 

it’s the first time he’s ever done that- first time he’s ever gone in for a kiss without you looking- and you have to sit and blink to try and figure out if you’re imagining things.

his hand reaches out for you, lips still puckered as he tries again and again to kiss you anywhere on your face, and as intriguing as it is, it’s more concerning since it’s mark. your mark- the one that didn’t really seem to like it when you did this, the one who pretty much repelled away from any of the sudden pecks you gave him. 

you sweep his hair to the side, and before you can even try asking again, his hand falls limp, and he drawls, “you don’t wanna ki-kiss me anymore.” tears are starting to well in his eyes again, and you have to force yourself not to give up on how confusing this entire situation is.

“what? babe, who told you that?” you’re chuckling, but trying not to, because he’s literally about to cry ohmygodwhat. 

“yoooooou,” he whines, “you haven’t kissed me since i, i got back!”

you brush a tiny droplet from his eye with the pad of your thumb, and then go back to stroking his hair. you try not to show your incredulity, but it’s a little hard when you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. “but i have! we even kissed yesterday, mark! remember?” 

“yeaaah we kissed! but i kissed you.” he’s so funny- even as his eyes are closed and he faces the ceiling, he still has to point at himself and then at you when he says this, and then he pauses and continues, “you haven’t tried to kiss me since i left. like, reeeaaally tried. and i can’t figure out whhhhhy.” 

oh. what? 

“well, markie, right now i don’t really wanna kiss you since you’re kinda stinky,” you try to joke, but his eyes shut even tighter and he’s about to burst into tears again, “noooooo! i’ll go brush my teeth-”

“but didn’t you say you’re not used to it? i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. you didn’t seem to like it very much.”

“but i diiiiiid! i missed you so much when i was away,” a hiccup. “and then i felt so sad,” another hiccup. “because i remembered how sad you got the first time,” and another hiccup. “and then when i got back i was soooo excited for you to do it, so i could do it back to you, and you never did.” his mouth turns into a pout, and his nose sniffles.

this is what he was upset about? no way. there is no way he got so sad because you decided not to kiss him out of the blue anymore. it makes your heart swell in confusion- because, what the hell, mark is just, for the lack of a better word, so darn cute. you can’t believe that this, out of everything you could’ve had a miscommunication about, is what he was hiding from you. 

“awwww, i’m sorry babe. i really thought you didn’t want me to.” you coo, and lean in closer to press your lips to his forehead. “look! i’ll give you sooo many right now!” you kiss him all over his face, and the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile, and he starts to giggle, complaining that it tickles. 

“but why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve done it if you’d asked.” you begin to trace your finger all over his features, stopping at his nose to boop at it. 

he heaves out a sigh, and you can tell he is a mere minute away from dozing off to sleep with how slowly he speaks, “i dunno, it just seemed silly to tell you. but this, it’s probably even sillier.” 

you pinch at his nose. “yeah, i’m glad you know, mark.” 

you know you once said that a small peck on the lips didn’t mean much to you, but right now, it’s your favourite way of showing him you care. just the thought of both of you unknowingly reciprocating the exact same yearning for each other is so amusing, and it gives you butterflies to know just how similar you are to one another. it’s more than simple skin on skin- it’s when two lines, so parallel and alike, tend towards one another and meet in an oblique. and though these lines have to part afterwards, they curve, bend, and loop to find their way back. you’ve never believed in infinity- it’s stupid to think that anyone or anything is completely limitless- but in this moment you can only wish for your lines to join and travel endlessly.

when you return with a face towel to wipe his dried tears and snot away, you give him your sweetest, last kiss goodnight.

-

a/n: ahhhhh lol sorry for taking a while for this update (if anyone's been waiting hahahah) i was busy with exams and decided to finally take a break to finish writing this! i've started to realise that every time i start writing i feel so accomplished, and then by the time i get to the end i just feel like the end product is disappointing aaghdaghag lol

[heartcluez]

heyy can i request dry humping + shower sex with mark 😇😇 thank youu

♡ dry humping + shower sex w mark

synopsis. mark was away for a long time since he was preparing for their comeback, and when he came back, let’s just say he was really needy.

warnings. dry humping, shower sex, dirty talk, creampie (lowkey breeding kink), dumbification(?), fingering, smut

you were in the kitchen, cooking dinner. you hear keys jangling and the doorknob clicking. mark finally came home after what seemed like weeks since his new comeback. “hey baby,” you spoke, smiling at him while you whip your head to look at him.

mark quickly sets his belongings down and removes his shoes as he hurriedly goes over to you, “missed you so much, baby.” he wraps his hands around your waist while his head rests on your shoulder.

“couldn’t wait to get home to see you,” he whispers in your ear, making you feel his hot breath tickling your neck, making you shiver. “mark, something poking me behind my back; can you remove your wallet or something?” you could practically see him grin, “that’s not my wallet, baby,” he spoke with a low voice, sending goosebumps all over your body.

“mark!” you exclaim, astonished. i’m cooking right now,” you playfully smack his arm that was on your waist before continuing to cook again. “so? just focus on cooking, baby, don’t mind me.” mark’s hands crawl down to your hips as he starts to hump you. he peppered kisses on your neck, giving it a few bites here and there, while you could hear him grunt.

his hands slid under your underwear, his middle finger gliding over your slit, making you let out a breathy moan. “you’re wearing my shirt, you look so cute and fuckable in it.” he breathes out. “mーmark,” you cut yourself off with a moan while he inserted two fingers in you, thrusting them in and out. his other hand pushes your shirt up enough to expose your breasts to the cold air.

he started humping you faster, you could tell he was close. desperate for you to cum as well, he curled his fingers reaching your g-spot, making you see stars. his other hand plays with your nipple, pinching them between his fingers. “cum for me, baby, cum for me.” he whines in your ear.

whatever you were cooking was long forgotten now, while you grip the kitchen counter as you lean your head on his shoulder. “fuck baby, m’ gonna cum,” his hips stuttering while he bites your shoulder to muffle his moans. you never reached the summit so quickly before, it’s safe to say you were just as needy as he was.

he cummed untouched, as he groaned out loud. “fuuuck,” mark leans his head back, still humping you slowly. he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, you turned to look at him and saw the wet patch on his crotch. he chuckled, “see what you do to me baby?” he looks at you with hooded eyes, his bulge nudging against your clothed cunt, making you let out a breathy moan.

mark kissed your neck, trailing up to your jawline and to your lips while his hands rested at your waist. “let’s go get cleaned up,” mark grabs you by the waist, now carrying you while you wrap your legs around his shoulder, giggling. he walked inside your shared bathroom, putting you down while he removed his clothes.

you mirrored his actions as you glanced at his cock, it was hard and veiny; the tip was red with pre-cum leaking. mark looks over to you, “yeah, you like what you see?” he chuckled, you were flustered almost immediately looking away while getting in the shower. “don’t be shy baby,” he grins at your flustered self while he gets in the shower as well.

“you look so cute when you’re shy,” he whispers, making you feel goosebumps all over your body. you turn to look at him with big doe eyes, as he kisses your lips, turning it into a make-out session. he puts you against the glass wall while his other hand turns on the shower, the cold water hitting his back making him groan in the kiss.

he pulls away from the kiss, grabbing a hold of his veiny cock, giving it a few pumps before nudging it against your slit. “mark.. please, i need you.” he smiles at you, “oh look who’s needy now. tell me how much you want my cock to fill that little pussy of yours, hm?” he smirks to himself, “please mark, just fuck me already,” you swivel your hips around. “want your cock in me so bad,” you whine.

mark starts slowly thrusting into you. he was addicted to how your gummy walls clenched around his cock deep in your cunt. “fuuuck baby,” he grabs both of your legs before he starts jackhammering into your tiny cunt. the stretch was lovely, burning just right as he moved faster in you. “you hear that? hear how your pussy squelches and makes so many wet noises as i fuck my cock in you? yeah?” you could only nod lazily, too cock drunk to even form a word.

you feel his lips against your shoulder as he kisses you there, leaving sloppy marks here and there. “you’re too much of a dumb slut to use your words huh, baby?” he practically growls in your ear, the degradation was creating a cloud in your brain only pushing you closer to your release. “fuck, mark,” you breathe as he kept on grinding against you, “you feel so good. you’re so big.”

“fuck,” one of your hands is in his hair, the other clutching tightly onto his shoulder as he continues to slam his hips into yours with such force that has you squeezing your eyes shut. “please, please. i love your cock in me, i love how good you make me feel.” you didn’t even know what you were begging for, the only thing in your mind right now was how good he was fucking you.

he leans down to mark your neck, biting and sucking, “you feel just as good, baby. your pussy is practically sucking me back in each time.”

your nails dig further into his shoulder and grip at his hair as he picks up speed. he’s rutting into you so quickly, making you go insane. with each thrust, you can feel the veins on his cock pulsing, and you can't help but buck right back into him.

“shit, mark, i’m so close.” he’s quick to press his thumbs against your clit, “yeah? come on, baby. you can cum. cum all over my dick.”

you let out a silent scream, feeling so overstimulated, “mark! oh my fucking god. i’m gonna cum, fuck fuck fuck.” his cock was pushing against your g-spot repeatedly, sending you over the edge so quickly.

“i can feel you tightening around me, fuck,” he breathes, rubbing fast circles into your clit, “cum, baby. fucking cum all over my dick.”

“fuck!” you let out a high-pitched moan as you fall apart on his dick, your walls clenching around him. he leans his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he follows his release right after you, unable to hold back from cumming inside of you. shooting his load in you, concentrating on dropping every bit of his cum and making sure you get every last drop.

“holy fuckkk,” he let out a long whine, his noises sounding like music in your ears and his cum fills you up so well. “good girl, my good girl.” he praises you, his hands gripping tightly onto your hips the entire time. he grins, and you smile, unable to help yourself as well.

he pulls out, some cum dripping in between your legs as he admires his work. you pout when he pulled out, suddenly feeling empty. you kiss his cheek, as he leans back to catch sight of you. you run a hand through his wet hair. “guess we have to wash again, huh?” he looks at you with beaming eyes. you just smile while nodding.

“yeah,” you kiss him on his lips softly, and he returns the gesture. “i love you, mark.” his cheeks turn pink a bit, and not from the steam in the shower. “i love you, too, baby.”

© heartcluez. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any site

[luvdsc]

a-side.

a new a-side has been released.

pairing :: mark lee x reader ( feat. past wong yukhei x reader ) genre :: angst, fluff / best friend + college au word count :: 3,745 words warnings :: drunk mark attempts to fight yukhei playlist :: it was love (lany) ⋆ 7up (boy in space) ⋆ i.l.y. (the rose) ⋆ heart eyes (coin) ⋆ you were beautiful (day6) ⋆ so, soo pretty (lany) author’s note :: inspired by lang leav’s new book which is referenced at the end and because mark deserves a happy ending ↳ sequel to b-side / can be standalone.

Mark is not a confrontational person. Yeah, he can be incredibly stubborn, and he definitely will say something if he doesn’t like where the situation is going, but he isn’t one to seek out a fight. He’s the one who notifies someone else that a fight is happening and that person would break up the fight. He’s the designated driver, the one who plays it safe, the one who makes sure everyone gets home at an appropriate time.

So then why does he find himself standing in front of Yukhei, empty solo cup in hand?

All he remembers is Donghyuck handing him a cup, telling him it’s some kind of juice. Normally, he isn’t one to blindly trust anything his friend hands him, but for some reason, he went against his gut today and here he is. If you were here, you’d laugh at him. But you aren’t because you have a midterm coming up, and so he made a bad decision. He was always such a lightweight. It was partially the reason why he never drinks at parties in the first place.

“Wong Yukhei!” He loudly calls out, slurring the ending syllable slightly and getting the attention of several people around him, and the aforementioned boy looks at him amusedly. Yukhei detaches himself from his group of friends, pushing himself off from against the wall, and Mark suddenly feels the liquid courage drain out of him when faced with the towering boy straight on.

“Hey, buddy,” Yukhei greets him, “Have you been drinking?”

“Just some apple juice,” Mark says, waving the cup in hand around vaguely, before shaking his head several times in an attempt to clear his hazy mind. “Wait, no, I need to talk to you.”

“Maybe you should drink some water first,” Yukhei suggests, gesturing him towards the kitchen. Mark hates this. Mark hates this so much. Yukhei is too nice. Yukhei is a nice guy, he is his friend, he was supposed to be a good guy.

But six months ago, Yukhei broke your heart.

And that thought, fueled by the alcohol coursing through his veins, makes Mark so angry.

Because Yukhei had you. And then he let you go. Why would he do that? Didn’t he know how lucky he was? Didn’t he know how special you are?

Yukhei thought he was being nice, sitting down with you privately, telling you quietly that he didn’t think the relationship would work out, that the two of you weren’t meant to be, and that he was breaking up with you. He thought he was being a nice guy.

But Yukhei wasn’t there afterwards when you fell apart. He wasn’t there when you cried for nights on end consecutively after dragging yourself to your classes and pretending everything was okay while your heart was buried six feet under. He wasn’t there to pick you up after you drank too much at parties to forget him. He wasn’t there when you stumbled across one of his old tshirts and broke down. He wasn’t there to hear you ask why you weren’t good enough.

But Mark was.

Mark was there when you crumpled to the ground once you entered his apartment to tell him you were dumped. He was there when you needed someone to take you home and help you get to bed. He was there, holding you, when you revealed your deepest insecurity and Yukhei only seemed to confirm it. He was there, but he wasn’t the one you wanted.

Seeing Yukhei standing in front of him, acting so nice as if nothing happened, absolutely infuriates him. So Mark does what every intoxicated person believes is the next logical step. He lunges at Yukhei and throws a punch. Eyes widening, the taller boy quickly takes a step back and narrowly misses his fist.

“Woah man, what are you doing?” Yukhei exclaims, bewildered and hands up. More people are starting to notice and gather around, whispers and murmurs flying out. Jeno and Jaemin emerge, reaching out for him, but he shoves them away. He sees Donghyuck pulling his phone out and calling someone from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t care. Mark takes another swing, and another, and another, but his opponent manages to dodge them all much to his chagrin. Finally, Yukhei grabs his wrist before caging him in his arms.

“Let me go,” Mark says through gritted teeth, struggling as he tries to shake off Yukhei’s tight grip. “I said let me go!”

“No. You’re going to hurt someone flailing like that.”

“Stop being so nice! Stop caring about everyone! Stop pretending to be nice!” Mark manages to wiggle around and elbows him in the stomach harshly. Yukhei curses, hunching over slightly, but he refuses to loosen his grip.

“Mark, what are you talking about? You’re clearly drunk.” Yukhei essentially carries him to the kitchen at this point away from prying eyes, and Mark suddenly deflates. He’s too tired, too angry, too sad. Yukhei warily lets him go, moving to stand on the other side of the counter. He feels the hot angry tears welling up in his eyes and notices the alarmed look in Yukhei’s own eyes when he sees them.

“Why?” He manages to mutter, curling and unfurling his fists several times, before continuing, “Why are you nice to everybody but her? Why do you care about everybody but her?”

Yukhei’s eyes soften at the sudden realization, and he slips his hands into his pockets, lips curling inwards before replying. “I do care about her.”

“Then why would you hurt her? She’s so special, so amazing, and you don’t deserve her, but you had her. And you chose to hurt her.” Mark clenches his fists so tightly that miniature moon crescents form in the soft skin of his palms. His voice wavers at the end, cracking, and Yukhei finally understands.

“Why would you break her heart like that?”

You really wonder if your friends actually know the meaning of “Do Not Disturb” when you told them all you were going to study for your Financial Derivatives class and to not contact you until tomorrow. Donghyuck is calling you for the fifth time in a row, and you’re about to flip your phone upside down to avoid any distractions until you see the text notification beneath the missed calls.

[ 12:27 a.m. ] Hyuck: hey answer me

[ 12:27 a.m. ] Hyuck: y/n pick up

[ 12:27 a.m. ] Hyuck: MARK IS TRYIN G TO FITGT YUKHEI

[ 12:28 a.m. ] Hyuck: FIGHT*

[ 12:28 a.m. ] Hyuck: Y/N

[ 12:28 a.m. ] Hyuck: ANSWER YOUR PGONE

[ 12:28 a.m. ] Hyuck: pghone*

[ 12:28 a.m. ] Hyuck: PHOEN**

[ 12:29 a.m. ] Hyuck: YOU KNOW W HAT I MEAN

[ 12:29 a.m. ] Hyuck: JUST COME

[ 12:29 a.m. ] Hyuck: PLEAS E Y/N

[ 12:29 a.m. ] Hyuck: we’re at nu chi theta

Eyes widening, you freeze, staring at the third text message, as the words light up over and over again in your mind even after your phone goes dark. In a flash, you abandon your textbook, throwing on the oversized sweater hanging off the edge of your bed and slipping on your shoes. You type out a response as you grab your house keys and shove it in your pocket after locking the door.

[ 12:32 a.m. ] you: on my way

When you arrive at the fraternity, Donghyuck is waiting for you outside. He grabs your hand, and the two of you enter the house, him shoving his way through and you following close behind. Your eyes scan all the faces around you, but you don’t see Mark anywhere. Donghyuck stops in front of you, and you nearly crash into him. He’s asking Jeno something, but you don’t pay attention, searching the room for any glimpse of your best friend, until you hear his name coming from Jeno, who gestures towards the kitchen. 

You let go of Donghyuck’s hand, pushing your way through the other bodies before finding yourself in the kitchen. Your eyes meet Yukhei’s first, and his eyes widen in surprise. He starts to say something, but you brush past him, making a beeline to Mark who finally looks up when you call out his name. You reach out, cradling his face in your hands gently.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” You turn his face from side to side, checking to see if there are any bruises, before snapping. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

His mind is hazy, and he’s having such a hard time concentrating, but his eyes manage to focus on you in front of him. You’re standing there, wearing his sweater, and he can’t think of anything else but―

“Beautiful,” he mutters, reaching out and boldly pressing his fingertips against your cheek, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your cheeks warm up and your heartbeat quickens at those words, but you push his hand away from your face. “Stop distracting me, and answer me! Why would you do that?”

“Because he broke your heart!” Mark bursts out angrily as he throws his hands in exasperation before his shoulders sag and he’s gazing at you once more. “He hurt you.”

Your expression softens, a wave of warmth and affection blooming in your chest and curling around your heart for your best friend. He looks so vulnerable and so defeated, refusing to look at you, as he braces himself for your reaction. You gently grab his hand, intertwining your fingers. He hesitantly meets your eyes, and you squeeze his hand gently.

“Let’s go home, Mark.”

Unlocking your front door, you pull Mark into your apartment. His arms are draped around you, and he nuzzles his face in your hair. The alcohol effect seems to be nearly gone after walking home in the cold night, but he remains somewhat tipsy. Your breath hitches in your throat when he presses his face in the crook of your neck, and you carefully untangle his body from yours as you take off your shoes and he follows suit albeit stumbling slightly. He nearly topples over, peals of laughter bursting from his lips, and you smile softly, admiring the carefree expression on his face.

You gently tug him to your bedroom before carefully pushing him to sit on the bed. He plops down with no resistance, looking up at you with those sparkling doe eyes of his. His eyes glitter even in the yellow glow of the bedroom light, absolutely starstruck, as he gazes at you, swinging his feet slightly as they drag across the carpet in front. You move to get him a pair of comfy pants to change into, but his hand clasps around your wrist. 

“Wait, I have to tell you something.”

You stop and turn, looking at him expectantly, but he pouts adorably. “You gotta come closer. It’s a secret!”

You indulge in his request and step closer to your best friend. He pulls you down until you are face to face. Mark leans closer, and you hold your breath until he’s so close that―

“Boop!” He nudges his nose against yours before his eyes crinkle in the corner as an earsplitting grin erupts across his face. He giggles happily. “I just booped you!”

You splutter, sudden heat blazing across your cheeks like wildfire, before a wide smile makes its way onto your face. “Silly boy.”

Mark lets go of your wrist, leaning back on the pillows behind him. You walk towards your dresser and pull out a pair of sweats―one of the several pairs he left here before―before going over and handing them to him.

“Here, change into these.”

He acquiesces, standing up, and begins to tug off his jeans. You quickly avert your eyes, leaving the room for a few moments and returning with a wet washcloth. By the time you return, Mark has somehow miraculously put on his pants correctly, tucked himself under your comforter, and pulled the covers up to his chin. His head peeks out over the top slightly, his dark hair a fluffy and mussed mess sticking out here and there, and he’s clutching onto your spare pillow, eyes fluttering shut.

“Hey, we gotta wash your face first before you fall asleep,” you say softly, kneeling next to him. He opens his eyes sleepily, burrowing himself further in your bed. You push back the covers slightly before carefully wiping his face. His nose scrunches slightly, and your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. You stand up to put away the cloth when his hand shoots out and grabs your wrist for the second time tonight. And perhaps it is because of the last traces of alcohol running through his veins but he is feeling brave enough to ask.

“Will you stay?”

You hesitate, eyes darting from the space next to him to the door. You were planning to spend the night on the couch, and you are about to refuse his request when his hand slips into yours.

“Stay please.”

So you do.

You place the washcloth on the nightstand and slip under the covers. He pulls you closer, throwing one leg over yours before snuggling close. And you don’t know how to explain it, but it simply feels... right. You brush the stray strands of hair away from his face, and he opens his eyes, peering into your own for a few moments, before he whispers quietly, eyes drooping as sleep starts to take over.

“Wanna know a secret? A real secret?”

You smile at him, turning to your side to properly look him in the eye. “Is it another boop?”

“No,” Mark whispers indignantly, and you laugh. He’s momentarily distracted, admiring how pretty you look when you laugh, eyes crinkling in the corners, mouth shaped into the loveliest of smiles, the sweetest sound falling from your lips.

“So what’s the secret?” You nudge him, eyes sparkling. You look so, so pretty, and he desperately wants to stay awake, but his eyelids are feeling so heavy. Still, he manages to answer you.

“Oh! Well, you wanted to know why. And I said it’s because he hurt you. Well, that’s the half truth.”

You change your position, propping your head up on your hand, as your other hand reaches out to tap his nose. “And what is the other truth, Marky?”

He sleepily smiles at you before closing his eyes and reaching out to hold your hand. And four little words slip out between his teeth before sleep finally overtakes him. 

“Because I love you.”

It’s past 4 a.m. and you still can’t sleep. Mark’s confession echoes in your head over and over again, and you can’t help but wonder if he really meant it. You glance over at your best friend. Small puffs of breath escape between his lips as he sleeps peacefully, curled up next to you.

The sudden brightness of your phone screen catches your attention from the corner of your eye. You reach over and pluck the device from the surface of your nightstand, squinting your eyes to see the sudden influx of messages.

[ 4:09 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: hey it’s yukhei

[ 4:09 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: idk if you blocked me but i hope you’re doing okay. and i hope mark is okay too. he’s a good guy

[ 4:09 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: i wanted to say sorry. i hurt you and i shouldn’t have. i shouldn’t have given up on you like that. i should’ve tried harder

[ 4:09 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: i know it’s a shitty thing to apologize through text but i don’t think you want to talk to me in person. and i don’t even know if you’ll get these but

[ 4:10 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: i’m really sorry

[ 4:14 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: and mark is right

[ 4:14 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: you are special

[ 4:14 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: i’m sorry it took me too long to realize that

[ 4:15 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: you deserve to be happy

[ 4:16 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: the next one who gets to love you is lucky

[ 4:16 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: whoever you fall in love with is lucky

[ 4:19 a.m. ] DO NOT CONTACT: mark is a very lucky guy

It’s half past noon when Mark finally awakens, slightly disoriented. Struggling to sit up, he finally props himself up on his elbows, looking around to find the familiar surroundings of your room. The reasons why he slept in your bed are somewhat hazy, but all he remembers is you. Rubbing his eyes, he carefully gets out of bed, shuffling out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen in search of the one person who would have all the answers to the questions circling his mind.

Mark finds you sitting at the table, study supplies scattered around you and textbook open in front of you directly. When you finally notice your best friend, your throat goes dry. You had rehearsed what you were going to say and how you were going to act during the hours he was asleep, but all of it has completely flown out the window when you are actually confronted by the sight of your best friend.

“Um,” his voice cracks, and his cheeks warm up at the mistake. He clears his throat. “How did I get here? What happened last night?”

You decide to tell him the truth. “You drank last night and tried to fight Yukhei. Hyuck called me to come pick you up.”

Mark groans, sinking into the chair across from you. He presses the palms of his hands against his eyelids, the memories materializing one by one. You hesitate, fiddling with the pen in your hands, studies long forgotten. “You... you said it was because he broke my heart.”

He stiffens in his seat, inhaling sharply, and you press on, biting your bottom lip. “But you told me later on that was the half truth. You said the other truth was because―”

“Because I love you,” he says softly. He loves you, and now you know. 

“Do you mean it?” you murmur, hands curling in your lap. You almost don’t want to hear his answer, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. For some reason, you simply know that you won’t be able to bear it if he says it isn’t true. Somehow, his rejection would hurt more than anything. And you’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly miss his quiet reply. It’s only one word and three letters, yet it makes your entire world spin.

“Yes.”  

He finally lifts his head for his eyes to meet yours. For some reason, he doesn’t feel so afraid anymore. At last, his heart is out and vulnerable, yours for the taking if you so choose. His eyes don’t bore into yours, searching for confirmation of your reciprocation, but rather, they gaze into yours, shining with utter adoration for you and contentment with simply loving you.

And in that moment, you finally recognize the way Mark looks at you, the way he has always looked at you. It’s the way Yukhei had looked at you long ago, the way you used to look at Yukhei.

It’s the way you have been looking at Mark after all this time.

It’s the way you’re looking at him now.

It’s love.

FOUR MONTHS LATER.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I― Yukhei?”

An automatic apology is already rolling out onto the tip of your tongue until you glance over and recognize who you accidentally bumped your shoulder into. He smiles at you kindly, albeit hesitantly, and you smile back at him warmly, pausing in your tracks.

He slides his hands into his pockets as he shifts his balance to one side. “Hey, how have you been?”

“I’ve been good! A little busy with classes, but I’m finally done with my midterms. How about you?”

“Pretty much the same, I just have one last midterm tomorrow, and it’ll be over.” He cocks his head slightly. “So what are you up to now?”

“Mark’s class is getting out soon, and we’re getting lunch together.” You beam at him, and Yukhei finds himself relaxing, grinning. He had almost forgotten how easy it is to talk to you, falling into a familiar banter that the two of you used to have, almost like riding a bike again after a long time.

“How are the two of you doing?” The words slip out of his mouth from pure curiosity, but he realizes the potential awkward situation belatedly and quickly backtracks. “Wait, that’s a little weird for me to ask, forget I said anything.”

You laugh freely as your mouth twists into another lovely smile. A small tendril of nostalgia blooms in his heart at that sight. It wasn’t the sad type of nostalgia, but rather, the surprising, almost happy kind that he encounters when he finds the teddy bear from when he was five stuffed all the way in the back of his closet shelf.

“No, it’s okay. Everything’s been, well, perfect. He really makes me so so happy.”

“That’s great. I’m really happy for you and him.” There’s nothing but clear sincerity in his voice, and you thank him before spotting your boyfriend coming out of his lecture.

“Oh, he’s out! I gotta go, but let’s catch up sometime!” You call out to Yukhei as you run towards Mark, and he waves you good bye. He doesn’t fail to notice the way your eyes completely light up, sparkling like a thousand suns, cheeks raising as your lips quirk upwards into the widest smile he has ever seen from you, when you catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. 

Mark easily catches you when you throw your arms around him, laughter bubbling, before the two of you pull apart. He intertwines your hand with his, squeezing your fingers tight. You gaze at him adoringly and boldly press a kiss to the corner of his lips, leaving him spluttering as his cheeks burn scarlet red. You pull him along towards your lunch date without any further hesitation, and Mark happily follows, quiet giggles escaping between his teeth, as he peeks down at your interlocked hands ever so often, grinning so brightly.

Yukhei smiles fondly, eyes softening as he watches you for a few moments, before turning and walking away.

Love looks pretty on you.

[jaeminlore]

Fight For You | Mark

summary: you and a certain knight make an interesting deal words: 6.8k category: adventure universe, flUFF, lots of sword fighting  warnings: blood mention, stitches, cuts

"I don't understand why you're making me tend to your healer's duties. I can't believe you're ignoring your job for a lady-in-waiting." You spat the words towards your childhood friend, Jeno, in the desperate hopes that he would rethink his decisions and return to help you.

Instead, he just gives you an exasperated sigh, "Listen, I know you didn't come to the kingdom to be a healer, but Prince Jaemin's wedding is drawing nearer and soon all the visiting ladies will go back to their villages. I want to spend as much time with her as I can before she leaves."

He passed you something between a pout and the gaze of a lovesick puppy, making you groan, "Jeno, I came here to be a knight. This is a wonderful kingdom who accepts female knights and now that I've finally gotten the opportunity, you ruin it with your lovesick attitude."

"I will take that as a compliment," Jeno said, eyes trained on his bag. "I'll only be gone for a month."

"The wedding is in four months! How long do you have to be with her?" You knew your outburst was a bit much, but honestly, you hated to think of being left here to tend to wounds when you could be out fighting for the prince.

Jeno bit his lip and avoided your question, "It'll only be a few check ups here and there, and if anyone needs actual potions, they're all labeled very easily. As soon as I come back I'll talk to Jaemin about you fighting for a place with his knights, just like I promised."

"I think you've been hanging around with Donghyuck too much. Where is that conniving servant anyway?"

Jeno snorted and pulled his bag over his shoulder, "He and the other servants are cleaning the castle from top to bottom to prepare for the royal wedding. Our queen-to-be is a bit on the uppity side. Oh! I forgot!"

You sat on the healing cot while Jeno grabbed his coat. He turned to you and completed his thought, "The knights are having a tournament today."

"Can I go?"

Jeno looked pained, and he shook his head, "You need to be here in case anyone gets hurt. They're fighting for the title of the King's Guard. Only five will get the chance to become Jaemin's men once he is crowned, you know."

"Yeah," you glared, "I know, because that's what I came here to do: fight in a tournament like that. Can't you go see your lady some other time? Is she that important?"

"To me, yeah," Jeno said almost casually, but his lips were spread with joy, "I promise I'll make it all up to you, okay?"

"You had better," you hissed.

As soon as Jeno was outside the city gates, you promptly turned the sign hung on his door from "open" to "closed". You were going to go see the tournament, and if you could, you were going to fight in it yourself. If they asked, you could tell people that you were a traveler from a few villages over.

With nothing but resolve to simultaneously achieve your dreams and spite Jeno, you grabbed your cloak and sword before scurrying to the outdoor arena.

You never understood how Jeno could stand being cooped up all day, surrounded by herbal scents and coughing patients. He was always a bit on the quiet side, but that didn't vouch for his reasoning behind never going outside save to travel.

Right now outside seemed like the best place on earth. The wind played with the messy ends of your hair as if you two were friends, and the birds and horses chirped and neighed as you passed; their own form of kind greetings.

The outdoor arena was already partly filled with people who hoped to get the best seat. For a moment you caught the eye of Renjun, the kingdom's librarian, and waved. He had been friends with you and Jeno as well. You wondered if you three would reunite once you were given knighthood.

You made your way past the different banners and stalls, where traders took the opportunity to sell their goods to the hungry and excited customers. Once you finally made it just behind the arena, where all the knights were gearing up, you felt excitement flow through your veins. Nearly everyone was half naked, running around with chainmail in their hands and calling out for squires to help them.

Others were securely attaching pennants, bearing the symbol of their noble blood, to their lances. More than that, some simply had pennants made of burlap, and you recognized the symbol as a sign of a peasant, own who became a knight solely from hard work and not from royal blood.

You figured you wouldn't be let into this round. You weren't even a knight yet, and they wouldn't let someone so unannounced enter their tournament. It was stupid of you to assume so. Still, the buzz of activity made you hyper aware and excited, so much so that you knew you had to stay and watch.

There were two older men beside you, one helping the other with his mail shirt. You couldn't help but overheat their conversation: "They've let the rookie in."

"Rookie, Sire?"

"Mark Lee," he spat, "that child who  hasn't even graduated from squiredom. As if he could ever win in a tournament like this."

"Prince Jaemin has always had faith in the weak, hasn't he? Don't you remember the rumor of him having a peasant lover from the village? The poor boy doesn't know how to be thankful for his birthrights."

You tuned them out, feeling unsettled by the way they spoke about the prince. Surely these men wouldn't win, right? Not when he and his assistant spoke to harshly about his monarch. Shouldn't they reap what they sow?

"Y/n! What are you doing here?"

You turned at the sound and felt relief for the sight of a familiar face.

Renjun sent you a gentle smile and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand. "What brings you here?"

"I'm on healer duty while Jeno goes out on dates," you deadpanned, still bitter about the way fate had dealt your cards. "Why are you at a tournament? Thought you didn't like violence."

"I don't," Renjun admitted, "but my friends is taking part in the duel, so I thought I'd cheer him on."

"That's nice of you," you hummed, letting your gaze move back towards the open arena, which was nearly filled. Any time now they'd be announcing the first jest of the night, and you'd get to see some real knights in action. You'd get to see who you'd be up against in the near future.

The next few hours were filled with the sounds of clashing metal and yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. By the time it had come down to only two knights, you were rather excited to see that the one you had been rooting for this entire time was in the finale. The other part of you deflated when you saw that the other knight wore the same coat of arms as the one who had bashed the prince. There was no doubt he was one of those man. You wished you knew him by name so that you could say something.

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of the starting horn. You watched with rapt attention as the two knights went at each other's throats, quite literally.

The other knight, your favorite in his fighting, was much smaller than the other one. His frame reminded you so much of a teenage boy that you naturally assumed this was Mark Lee, the wonder boy good enough to compete without having been knighted.

This realization sparked something inside of you. If he was good enough to do it, then certainly you were too. You'd been training all your life for this type of thing.

You were brought back to reality when the crowd shouted in surprise. A quick glance showed that Mark had been nicked in the shoulder. He only had a vest of chainmail, and his arms were unprotected save the thin cotton of his shirt. You thought you could seriously bet that his armor wasn't good, and it was proving to be a huge disadvantage; a weakness.

He fought bravely, though. You watched him block and stab and slice his way through the fight. If the rules would've been first blood, he would've been long out considering the fact that he was unprotected for the most part. He had small injuries all over his body, and it didn't take a seer to notice that his strength was quickly deteriorating.

The rules were a fight until one couldn't go on, or till a physician halted the fight. Both knights seemed far to stubborn for the either option. You also realized that you were the physician in this scenario, and there was no way you were gonna halt it.

You eyed the square they were confined to: four dropped handkerchiefs strategically placed in a larger square of the arena. If Mark could just push his opponent back, the man would be shamed as a coward for leaving the square and Mark would make it by default.

One look at Mark said that he was soon going to fail. His ailments were many, and it was quite strange to see blood drip down his arms and off his fingertips. The moisture caused him to lose grip on his hilt more times than necessary, and by the third round his efforts were simply sloppy.

The older knight must've known he was going to win at this point, but delivered one final blow as an act of pride, slicing through Mark's arm once again. From your angle, you could see that it was nearly the same wound. It was just enough to make him bleed, but not enough to make him look like a barbarian in front of the prince. In fact, if you hadn't heard his conversation beforehand, you would've seen it unbiased and assumed it was a fair fight. Hiding a wound within a wound was something horribly barbaric and you couldn't believe you were witnessing it.

Mark fell to his hands and knees, coughing and groaning from the pain of the blow. You watched him for a moment before you caught Renjun's eye in the crowd. He made a shooing motion with his hands, and it took you a moment to remember that you were the healer, and it would be up to you to tend to the young knight's wounds.

You ran back to Jeno's small healing room and quickly flipped the sign from "closed" back to "open".

When Mark arrived, his helmet was off. You quickly took in his dark hair matted down to his forehead with sweat. Then your eyes trailed down to his cotton shirt and pants, torn and ripped, blood appearing in more places than one. Even his lip was bleeding, and you remembered when the older knight bashed his shield against Mark's mouth.

The red cotton shirt clung to Mark's skin, thanks to a mixture of sweat and blood. You eyed it before turning to the squire that helped hold him up, "Help him onto the cot. I'll need to grab something from the back."

You returned with sewing scissors (the only ones you could find in the moment) only to see the young squire gone, and Mark sitting atop the cot. Mark opened his mouth, and the first words his said to you came out boyish and clear, "You aren't Jeno."

"Thanks for noticing," you replied dryly, rather tired of explaining where Jeno was. "He's out for a bit."

"Oh."

Mark didn't seem like a talker. Maybe, quite honestly, he was too weak and tired from the fight.

After explaining that you'd have to cut the shirt off of him to avoid hurting his injuries, you began snipping through the grubby fabric. "That was some fight."

"You saw?" Mark looked up from watching you cut his sleeves. "I was so close to beating him that I could practically taste it. Then he got in one good hit and it all just went down from there."

"You wouldn't have gotten hurt so many times if you had just parried his freaking blow."

Your sudden onslaught of critiques made Mark jump slightly. He eyed you as you peeled his shirt off him, his skin nearly covered by blood and dirt. "I tried to block. He used my weakness against me. Twice."

You grabbed a rag and a bowl that you had previously filled with warm water. You recalled the burlap pennant on Mark's lance from the first round. He was both a squire and a peasant. He was already weakened from the beginning. You couldn't bring yourself to say that, though. "You should invest in better armor."

"Yeah," Mark winced slightly as you grabbed his hand and lifted his arm.

You muttered an apology and dipped the rag into the warm water before running it down Mark's skin, clearing it of the blood and grime. "Do you get free armor when you become a knight? Is that why you're the only one who doesn't have good armor?"

If Mark was surprised by your knowledge of his noble status (or lack thereof,) he didn't show it. "It's more about me not being a noble, and not being able to pay for much other than my training."

You ran the rag down his chest, surprised to see that it looked even thinner without the dirt. He look malnourished, almost.

You caught his eye and noticed his involuntary shiver as you stared. His eyes were black, like two onyx stones had been morphed into them. He blinked, and your thought train stalled.

You were back to the present. "Is that why you're so scrawny as well? Your blood status?"

Mark shrugged, but thought better of it when pain began to shoot through his arm again. "The squires and knights all live in the same place. It's like a monastery, without the peacefulness. We all eat from the same plate essentially, so if the older knights decide to take your food from you, you have to deal with it."

"I bet it all started with that big knight you were fighting, huh?" you asked almost bitterly.

Mark hissed in pain when you began to thread a needle through his skin and stitch him up. He turned his eyes to the ceiling and breathed in deeply, struggling to keep the conversation going. "H-How did you know it was him?"

"He said some rude things before the match. He doesn't have much respect for you or the prince."

"Well I'm a different story, but if he speaks against the prince then it's treason."

You finished patching Mark up in silence, both of you lost in thought after his last comment.

Finally, all that was left was his busted lip. You leaned forward and dabbed it with a new, clean rag. "You were my favorite out there," your confession went unannounced, unprecedented as you stared at Mark, waiting for some kind of reaction.

When he only gulped and averted his eyes, you continued to talk and tend to his wound at the same time. "I think I saw a bit of me in you. There is a signature to your fighting, did you know? It's like you can sense the passion you have as you fight. It's like people can watch in peace because they think, that's a person who will protect our kingdom."

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized all you had just said. Somewhere in your chest, your heart started thumping wildly in embarrassment.

"What's your name?"

"Huh?" You almost started at the sound of his voice.

"Your name. You know mine, don't you? It's only fair." He stood up, and you saw noticed that he was about a head or two taller than you.

"I'm Y/n."

Mark gave you a gentle smile and grabbed your hand. He opened up your palm and pressed a few coins against your skin before closing your fingers around it. "Thanks for helping me. I owe you one."

"But you just paid me," you said.

"That was for the injuries, not for the free encouragement."

He turned and walked away at those words, surprising you at the apparent spring in his step. He had just gotten his pride handed to him on a silver platter, what was he so bouncy for?

"Son, where is your shirt?" Mark's father eyed his son's bare chest disapprovingly.

Mark wrapped his cloak around him more modestly and smiled, "The tournament was today and my shirt got damaged."

He didn't want to worry his parents more than necessary. They already let him go off to learn how to become a knight, losing one of their best full-time employees. If they knew he was getting hurt to this extent, they wouldn't let him compete in the next tournament. The said tournament was in three days, which meant Mark didn't have much time at all to get better and hopefully find gauntlets and shin guards. Right now, he was weak from the blood loss of the tournament and the hunger of not being able to eat all day. He sincerely hoped his mother would ask him to stay for dinner, because he was too anxious to ask, and he certainly wasn't going to get any food back at the grounds.

Mark hurried upstairs to change into a new shirt. He rolled up the sleeves and headed outside to wear his mother and a few workers were cutting watermelons from their vines. He was quick to grab his own hatchet and begin hacking away at the tough vines. His father soon came out and rejoined them, having been inside for a quick restroom break when his son walked in.

"How was the tournament, Dear?" Mrs. Lee smiled at her son, but Mark could see it falter when her eyes met his busted lip. "Did they hurt you?"

"Just a few scratches, Mom. Nothing to worry about. I was in the final round, but the other knight bested me." Still, he couldn't help but feel proud about his progress. Surely now he could beat the others, since the biggest threat was out of the way, and he had already beaten each one before. The thought itself made him anxious to get back to practicing.

Your words drifted through his head, about how he needed to be better at blocking. He wondered how you knew so much about swordsmanship and fighting, and whether or not you had any tips for him.

He set a ripe watermelon to the side and began to work on the other one, head low to hide his blush. If he were being honest, his main agenda was to see you again. But that made him feel stupid, as if he should worry about someone else when his entire future was in jeopardy.

Okay, not literally, but becoming a part of the prince's personal team would be the greatest thing to happen since befriending the prince himself when he was a child.

"You'll deliver these up to the palace, won't you, Mark? If your arms are okay to do so?" His father pushed a wheelbarrow filled with watermelons towards the road.

The palace was only about a mile from his home, convenient for the royal agriculturalists. Still, with his arms covered in stitches and his muscles burning, he wasn't sure just how far he could go before he was forced to stop. "Of course, Dad. I don't mind."

Mark often thought he was too kind for his own good. By the time he made it back to the palace, his arms were burning, and every entrance to the knight's quarters was locked up for the night. Mark considered knocking, but decided against it, thinking finding another place to sleep might serve better than enduring the hazing he'd get for coming home late.

His arms were giving him the most trouble, the pain of the cuts giving him the urge to throw up. He thought of heading back towards Jeno's. He'd be home by now, right? You said he'd only be out for a bit.

He had already made up his mind by the time he got to Jeno's place. Actually, his arms decided for him, because if he didn't get some kind of remedy for this pain he was going to fall over onto the cobblestone ground.

"Mark? What happened?" Your voice sounded blurry. Mark felt himself shaking, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. Maybe he was already on the floor. Most of his pain had gone to his head, and when your hands went under his arms to get him up, he felt a white hot pain cut through his muscles. He leaned against your shoulder and grimaced, struggling to stop the pain. To stop anything.

He awoke to the sound of birds chirping, the smell of iron, and a wet rag being applied to his forehead. It disappeared, replaced by the cold of the morning against his now damp forehead.

His eyes couldn't open yet. It felt as though someone had placed a heavy blanket over his eyelids, and it would take a lot of extra strength to lift it.

He felt a warm hand scoop under his nape and tilt his head up. Then the rim of a bowl or cup was pressed against his lips. Once he finally understood, he parted his lips and allowed the warm soup into his system. Maybe this would help him wake up.

After he drank all he could and the hand released him, he fell back into a deep sleep.

You handed Mark a bowl and spoon as soon as he sat up, a wince along his eyebrows. "Drink this. It's herbal."

Mark obeyed, taking small sips as he looked around the room. "Where's Jeno?"

"What do you mean? I told you he'd be out."

"Oh, well I just thought you meant for the day. How long?"

"He's gone for a month," you huffed, "which sucks because now I'm stuck here when I could be in the tournament."

Mark froze, spoon against his lips, "You're a knight?"

You waited until he finished his spoonful before taking the bowl away from him and grabbing your supplies. "I want to be. Scratch that, I'm going to be. I just have to get into the tournament before it's over."

"Each one is three days apart. Do you think I can make it to any of them?" Mark looked at you, hope clear in his eyes and you didn't have the heart to tell him the truth.

As the chief physician and healer, you had to anyway. "That's barely two weeks, Mark. You'll be lucky if you're healed in a month. And what did you do that made you get dirt and sweat inside of your cuts? Wrestle pigs?"

You peeled his shirt off of him as he told you what he did after leaving your care. This time you kept his shirt intact since his wounds weren't overly messy. They were infected, though. "You're such an idiot. Why would you go farming and lifting heavy fruit in the hot sun right after I gave you stitches? Now I have to redo them and clean them and it's gonna hurt you way more than it's gonna hurt me."

Mark hissed as you pulled the stitches out one by one. His eyebrows furrowed, "You should've told me what I can and can't do. Isn't that your job as a doctor?"

"I thought you'd be in too much pain to consider manual labor!"

Mark glanced up at the ceiling, and you noticed his eyes becoming watery. You softened. "I'm sorry that it hurts. I'm trying to be gentle."

"It's not that," he mumbled, voice strained. "It's just that now I've lost my chance to fight in the tournament, and I'll never become a proper knight because of it. I'll never be in the prince's league. Instead I'll be that one knight that has to stand outside of the castle and tell the other guard when to drop the drawbridge."

You giggled, and found that the sound made Mark's lips quirk into a smile. Truly, becoming a knight was his dream. And just as much as it was yours, a part of you knew what you should do. You could tell that Mark not only loved fighting, but he loved protecting and he loved his kingdom. The way he spoke about it with such passion told you that he wanted this for more than just fame and glory. For more than the reasons you wanted it.

"If you want, I can fight for you," you said.

"What?"

"I mean, we're both around the same size," you rambled, pressing some disinfectant into his wound to distract yourself, "and I can act like my right arm is a little janky, because of the injury. I can wear a visor over my face and pretend I'm you. They won't know the difference. And I was watching the fights remember? I bet you I know each one of those knight's weaknesses, and can win against any of them. What do you say?"

"Isn't that illegal?" Mark asked, teeth slightly clenched from the sting of the medicine.

"I mean, only if I get caught. And I'll have you know I'm very sneaky. You'd win anyway, so it's not cheating."

Mark opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again before you finally placed your palm under his chin and closed his mouth for him. "You'll catch flies, you know."

You grinned as red spread to the tips of Mark's ears. He quickly jerked his chin away from you. "How about we wait until the very last tournament. If I'm not healed by then, you can fight for me."

You held your hand out, chest tingling with excitement of potentially competing, even if it wasn't for yourself. "Deal."

Mark spent most of his time with you from then on. He tried to return to his parents farm and help them with the farm — with the royal wedding coming up they needed all the help they could get preparing food — but once they knew the extent of his injury they made him return to you until you cleared him of all injuries.

This worked out in your favor. Mostly because Mark could reach the shelves you couldn't, and that was helpful when you needed balms from the highest shelf.

It worked out in Mark's favor too, because he was able to tell you everything he knew about the other knights, and certain quirks he had while fighting that the officials might be able to pick out.

It also turned the two of you into close friends. Especially when Renjun dropped by for a visit, and was able to tell you both stories about each other. Apparently Mark knew almost everyone you did, the only leverage he had was that he and the prince himself were very close.

"You're close to the prince and yet you aren't instantly his guard?" you asked him once while the two of you were chatting. He had once again tried to visit his parents, and they only sent him back with a basket of fresh strawberries and instructions for you to stop letting him come back.

Now the two of you were munching on strawberries and talking about your friends.

Mark plucked the leaves off the top of his strawberry before popping it into his mouth. He licked his lips and looked at you, confused, "Prince Jaemin still wants everyone to have a fair chance."

"What, like that knight that clearly broke the rules of conduct by nearly slicing your arm off?" you nearly growled the words, biting into a strawberry rather violently.

"What did the poor strawberry do?" Mark asked, eyes filled with mirth.

His question went unanswered as a voice came from the front of the room. You glanced toward the curtain, behind the counter that was settled for people to walk up to.

You tossed the remainder of the fruit at Mark's chest. "I've got a customer."

Hurrying to the curtain, you were surprised to see a girl around your age. Her hair looked freshly cut, and her eyes were bloodshot. You noticed the ruby gem on her finger, and pondered whether or not she was a lady who had vied for the prince's hand. "Do you have anything for a fever? My grandfather has a horrible cough."

"Of course," you said, "Give me a second."

It only took you a moment to find the proper vial and label, and you brought it back to the front. "If this doesn't work, I would suggest coming back with Jeno is back. It could be something worse."

"Thank you. My village's healer is out with a cold himself, so I couldn't ask him. I'll ask him first before I travel all the way to the kingdom."

She seemed nervous, and you couldn't help but notice the way her eyes darted around. "Are you looking for someone?"

She gave you a cautious look. "Jaemin. But don't tell anyone I was looking for him. Please."

"I-I won't," you promised, something telling you that you shouldn't. You wondered why she hadn't used formalities.

When you returned, Mark noticed your worried brow. "Who was it?"

"Just someone from the village. Fever."

Mark nodded. "'Hope they feel better."

"Me too."

You leaned against the counter, examining your checklist of deliveries to be made around the kingdom. "Everyone is getting a cold this week," you mumbled to yourself.

"Hmm?" Mark's hum vibrated against your back as he leaned on you from behind, his chin finding a place on your shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Jeno's work, apparently," you mumbled, ignoring the way his chest felt against your back. He was warm, and his voice being so close to you felt comforting. "I'll be so glad when he returns home next week."

Mark's hand slid down your arm, landing atop the one you were writing with. "Can you stop?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored."

You laughed when Mark wrapped his arms around your waist and squeezed tightly, his nose brushing against the nape of you neck. "Well go take a nap or something. You're almost cleared from your injury, you know. I can probably take the stitches out this weekend."

"But the last tournament is tomorrow." Mark let go of you and settled for leaning against the counter, injured arm resting more delicately than the other.

"Well you aren't fighting with stitches in. Doctor's orders."

"You aren't a doctor," Mark teased. "You're just friends with one."

"And no one but you and Renjun know that so let's keep it a secret, okay?"

Mark huffed. "You're so difficult. Can't you just let me fight and stitch me up later? I can heal for as long as I want after that."

"Mark, if you fight now you'll risk hurting your arm even more. If you tore a ligament or something I doubt I'll ever forgive myself. Now there's one tournament left, okay? I'll win it and you can go on to be one of the greatest knights of the kingdom." You ignored Mark's pout and grabbed his hand instead, swinging it back and forth between the two of you.

You weren't sure when you had both gotten so touchy with each other. Mark wasn't exactly a huge fan of affection, and you weren't exactly craving it, but you liked the way his hand felt in yours. And you liked it when he held you close sometimes, even if it was just playful.

It was kind of bittersweet that by next week he'd be living out your dream and you'd be stuck playing healer's assistant until another opportunity came along. It was kind of bittersweet that you were slowly falling for Mark, and he was already set to leave your life so soon.

Mark smiled, his nose scrunching is a way that reminded you of a cat. "It's gonna suck hiding out in here until the tournament is over."

"Just be ready for me to come back," you said, "I have a feeling we're going to have to do a quick change so you can take off your visor and receive the reward."

Mark nodded. "Thanks again, Y/n, for everything. I still owe you."

You shrugged. It was getting increasingly easier to do things for the boy in front of you, and you weren't sure whether or not that was something to be proud of.

You didn't know the tournament would be so daunting. Shakily fighting your way to the final round, you were surprised to see how much each knight had improved since the first tournament. You also noticed that the knight you were up against was the other knight who was talk about the prince before the first tournament. It angered you that he was so good. Him and his friend, since they obviously didn't share loyalty for the future king.

They shared the same violent way of fighting, though. With every blow sent your way, you had to be twice as fast to dodge. You had surprise on your side, since your fighting style was a bit different from Mark's. You were able to successfully land a few blows, pushing him almost to the edge of the square before he managed to bounce back and attack angrily.

You noticed him breaking a lot of rules, but however subtly and sneakily, so that the judges might look past it. The only reason you knew he was doing was because your point of view was different: you were right in front of him.

The sound of metal clanging together brought you out of your thoughts, and you realized that you had been fighting on autopilot for awhile. You wondered if the fight would ever end. If you could ever get him to give up.

Arms aching from the heaviness of Mark's sword — of course you couldn't use your own — you swung it against the man, using every bout of energy you had until he was finally stumbling in place.

Out of nowhere, he swung again, sword making contact with your arm, in the exact place Mark had previously been hit. You bit your lip until you tasted blood, knowing that if you cried out your identity would be uncovered.

It was a low blow, as the fellow knight knew he was too tired to go on. He had hurt you out of spite, and then fell to the ground and announced surrender.

As soon as the judges deemed you (Mark, technically) the victor, you darted out of the arena, legs pumping with adrenaline as you charged for the healer's room.

"Your arm!" Mark said as soon as you entered.

You tore off your armor and handed it to him, "It's fine. Go collect your prize before they give it to the other guy."

Mark looked conflicted, eyes darting to your arm one more time, before you shooed him off. "Go!"

He ran out the door, leaving you to finally collapse on the cot, back against the stone cold wall. There was something about a cut to the upper shoulder that stung so badly. Any subtle movement of the arm felt like a one way ticket to hell because of it. You wondered how Mark had lifted watermelons in this stage. You also wondered how both men had managed to attack the exact same spot on both you and Mark. Why, more than how.

You found yourself unwilling to get up and disinfect the area, and hoped that sleeping off the fatigue of the fight would give you strength to clean it in the morning.

Instead, Mark interrupted your plans. He came back far more quickly than you would've thought, worry painted all over his face. "Are you okay? Is it just your arm?"

You nodded, squirming into a straighter sitting position. "He got me in the same place his friend got you. Coincidence, right?"

Mark walked around the room, grabbing all the supplies he had seen you use throughout the weeks. "They're cheaters. I'm telling Jaemin as soon as I fix you up."

You chuckled, "You aren't a healer, Mark."

"Neither are you," he muttered, concentrated on cutting the sleeve off of your shirt.

He worked in silence, following your verbal instructions on how to disinfect your arm and stitch it up. Every time you winced, he pressed his lips against your shoulder, a panicked and silent apology that made your insides warm. "There," he finally said when he was finished, "now you just have to rest as long as I did, which sucks. And I'm sorry," he muttered, looking guilty all of a sudden. "I shouldn't have asked you to do something so risky for me."

"I volunteered, remember?" you said gently, bringing the hand of your good arm up to run through his hair. You rested your palm against the back of his neck and watched his expressions change from worry to calm to confusion.

He suddenly quirked a smile and leaned in closer to you, where you could smell the strawberries on his lips and you were sure he could smell the sweat on your skin. "You know, Y/n, if you had taken your own advice and just have parried the freaking blow, we wouldn't be in this mess for a second time."

You gasped in surprise when he followed up his statement with a kiss, his soft lips pressing fervently your own. Tentatively, you kissed him back, nerves coiling and uncoiling with the feeling of warmth his lips brought you. His hands cupped your face, fingers digging into your hair as he pulled you closer towards him, a desperate sigh escaping his lips.

The sound made your toes curl, and you opened your mouth to capture his bottom lip between yours. He tugged gently on your hair, urging you not to stop whatever it was that you were doing.

"Um. Excuse me."

The new voice made you jump away from Mark, landing on your bad arm with a wince.

Mark helped you into a less painful position before turning around. "Hey, Jaemin. What's up?"

You wondered how he seemed so chill in front of the prince himself before remembering that the two were close friends.

Then it hit you that your future kind had just witnessed you playing tonsil hockey with one of his knights. Scandalizing, really. You bowed, half out of respect and half to hide the shame, "Prince Jaemin."

"You can drop the formalities!" He said brightly, "I bring good news."

Mark jumped onto the empty spot beside you and took your hand. "What is it? You stopped the wedding?"

Jaemin suddenly frowned, "No. But I have two months, and that's plenty of time to stop a wedding."

"You don't want to get married to Lady Gwen?" you asked.

Jaemin wrinkles his nose. "No. Today she told me that my eyes were too far apart. First of all, what does that even mean?"

You giggled at the prince's casual way of talking. He brought an ambience of comfort into the room.

Jaemin's hook his head, "Anyway, I came to tell you guys that the judges might be stupid, but I'm not. I know that wasn't Mark out there, and with how quickly he darted back here, I'm assuming it was you."

Mark bit his lip, "I-It was my idea."

Jaemin waved his hand through the air. "I don't care. I'm here to offer you both the top positions in my circle. Everyone else will be bumped down a position."

"Won't that mean someone has to go?"

"Yeah," Jaemin grinned, "And Renjun may have snitched to me about a few knights and their opinions on how I run things. So I kicked them both out."

"Jaemin—"

"I know," the prince rolled his eyes, "and yes, I'm totally playing favorites here, but is it my fault that my best friend and his girlfriend are the best swordsmen I have? I say nay. And what I say goes since I'm the future king."

Mark snorted. "Okay, Your Highness."

Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest and nodded assertively. "I also came to tell you that there will be no kissing when I am around, or during duty."

"Fair enough," you said.

Once the prince left, Mark brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. "No one has ever done for me what you did today. I really do owe you, okay?"

You turned to him, "Well, my price is pretty high. I want at least one more kiss and some watermelon from your parents' farm."

"I think something can be arranged," Mark laughed, lips already reconnecting with yours.

[sungbites]

MARK LEE AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

pairing : bf!mark x gf!reader genre : fluff, est. relationship warnings : so domestic, self insert, crying, kissing, umm mark = best ever synopsis : headcannons that bf!mark would do wc : 1.7k a/n : this is the pure fluff as promised but its also a self insert :3

secretly selfish. mark was selfish but never in the way you would’ve thought. he was selfish in the way that he always wanted to be the person you talked to the most throughout the day. as much as he loved when you would tell him about the day you had without him, part of him wishes that you spent that day with him because he wanted to be with you all the time. the guilt of this selfishness eats him alive so he never tells you, and instead just acts all casual about the day you had without him but a part of you just knows how much he yearns for that. 

his attentiveness. mark had multiple ways of loving you, but there was one in particular. he was such an attentive person that he noticed every little thing about you. when the two of you first starting dating, you were in school and he noticed that you were always in the library day and night so because of that he got you a portable lamp so that you were never bothered with the lack of light. it was those little things that mark noticed that made you fall for him. from fixing your outfit for you to bringing you what you’re craving during your lunch break, he knew you like the back of your hand. 

there would be times where he would pick up on something that you weren’t sure you yourself knew. “you’re doing that thing when you’re upset! oh come on babe” he whined out, dropping his head in your lap as you two cuddled on the couch. you snorted and raised your brows, “i do not have a thing when i’m upset! you’re so dramatic” you teased, running your hand through his hair. he raised his head and looked at you closer, “you do, you do this thing with your eyes.. cmon it’s so noticeable” he said, making you furrow your brows. you shook your head and sighed. “stop making that joke though! my labubus are adorable” you groaned and mark only smiled, sitting up softly to position himself closer to your cheek, “whatever you want” he mumbled, kissing your cheek then your face all over. 

private but never secret. both you and mark were quite open people, so when the two of you started dating there was a mutual agreement to not make your relationship too public where everyone knew about you two. just public enough that everyone knew you were his and he was yours. it remained that way as you two spent more and more time together. occasionally when you would be out with friends, you two would hold your hands underneath the table, your intertwined hands in marks lap as he rubbed circles on the front of your hand. sometimes when you were walking in public, his hand would rest on the small of your back, signifying that he was still close by and right with you. neither of you were ever big on pda so that wasn’t an issue either. despite all these things, everyone just knew the way you looked at one another, grazed hands, and smiled at each other, that you two were together. 

gifts when you least expect it. it wouldn’t ever be a special occasion, but randomly mark would come home with a gift for you. it ranges from a trinket he saw at the convenience store or a necklace so expensive that it could buy a mansion. marks heart was very big, he was a very charitable man but to him, spending money on you wasn’t charitable but rather one of his rights that he had a privilege of doing as your boyfriend. 

you heard the apartment door open and close, signifying that mark had come home after his day out. “hey baby” he sighed, the smile in his voice clear as he made his way to the couch where you sat. you looked up at him from your laptop and smiled, scooting to make room for him. “have fun?” you said, watching as he sat down next to you. he nodded, kissing your cheek. he took a small box out of his jackets inner pocket, looking to you. you already knew and smiled softly, “you didn’t have to, you know that?” you watched him, the biggest smile on his face as he opened the box, revealing a ring with small gems. “yeah but, i wanted to” he mumbled, slipping the ring onto your finger, looking back up to you. “thank you” you mumbled, looking into his eyes. “anything for you” he mumbled back, leaning into you peck your lips. 

quiet nights. there would be days where both you and mark arrive home overstimulated and tired from the day both of you had. for you it would be work and for mark it would be the endless hours he spends in the recording studio. in those nights, the two of you would lead a very quiet night. you silently cooking dinner as mark kept you company, helping you whenever you needed it. he would clean up the kitchen and dishes afterwards as you run a bath for the both of you. the bath would be quiet as well, marks bare chest against your back as he rubs your arms, pecking light kisses against your shoulder. the night would end with the two of you in bed, limbs intertwined as he runs his hand through your hair, getting lost in you. 

“love you” mark mumbles, pressing a kiss on the top of your head as you moved closer to him, your head laying on his chest. “love you too” you mumble back, his soft snores lulling you to sleep. 

laughing at your dumb jokes. you could admit that you weren’t the funniest person ever and mark knew that sometimes you did feel insecure when no one laughs at your jokes. so when the two of you are out with your friends and you say a joke, he laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. mark has a very contagious laugh so this makes everyone else laugh as well. you know that sometimes he just laughs because he doesn’t want you to feel alone but that makes it better because he cares about you so much to notice the little things. 

never wanting to be apart. mark and his closest friends would plan a trip atleast once every 3 month but it was always overnight and at least for one weekend. obviously he wouldn’t want to bring you around because his other friends wouldn’t bring their girlfriends since it was strictly only them. when this time came around he would constantly be texting you about anything since he hated being apart from you. you thought it was cute because you missed him as well but he was just so adorable. 

my love: they’re sending me chenle and jeno to the supermarket i can’t believe this  my love: i can’t even cook baby what do i do 

you: just help chenle get what he needs he’ll probably be cooking  you: or you guys could call jaemin

my love: wait ur right  my love: i miss u so bad baby  my love: they’re making me drive maybe i should just abandon them and drive back to town  my love: they can just uber 

you: babe don’t do that TT you: i miss you more my love  you: the cat we feed on the way home also misses u lots 

my love: :(((( my love: the resort place is really nice .. should i ask renjun to send me the link to the airbnb

you: why? if he booked it then you guys can just book again through him 

my love: baby come on my love: my girl deserves to be taken out and spoiled all the time 

you: focus on getting groceries idiot……. 

my love: we WILL bookmark it  my love: hope work is good, missing u so much 

you: work is work babe you: i miss u more  you: but i wouldn’t be opposed to the vacay 

my love: YESS  my love: don’t work too hard baby  my love: gotta go now, love u  my love: call tn? 

you: ofc and i won’t, love you more

my love: <333

hating when you cry. mark didn’t cry often, you weren’t sure when the last time you saw him cry but he always feels the urge whenever you cry. mark loves hard so when he sees you crying as if the world is falling apart to him his world is falling apart. it’s not like you cried often but he knew you were the type of person to pent things up and letting it all out so when that did happen it was a little messy. he wipes your tears away from your face and holds you close to him, letting you cry it out. he knows you need it so he never tries to stop it but instead silently gives you his comfort. 

writing poetry for you. there would be times where the two of you would be sitting next to each other doing your own respective work. in those times mark would slip you a small piece of paper, smiling as he watched you read it. he made music and at times he would be writing lyrics but sometimes he got too caught up in you and wrote small poems for you to cherish and adore as he does you. those poems could be on slips of paper or post it notes he leaves around the apartment but it reminds you that his love is everywhere for you to see. 

soft sweet kisses. marks love was sweet and warm, just for you. his kisses also followed that same feeling. he wouldn’t kiss you in public because he knew you didn’t like that but when the two of you are alone whether it be in the car or back at your shared apartment, his kisses were frequent. it could be a soft peck against your lips just for a quick goodbye or a slow and sweet kiss that spoke more than words ever could. he would hold you by your waist, soft lips moving against yours, smiling softly. those kisses leave your cheeks flushed and heart beating at a rapid pace. for some reason those kisses meant so much more to you than any words he muttered to you.

taglist : @kisseudoll @hyuckworld @lqfiles @ronniee-26 @aerifim @17ericas @polarisjisung @sunghoonsgfreal @ayukas @snwydoie @remtrack (bold cannot be tagged)

dream taglist

© all rights to sungbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[nerdlvr]

wedding night w mark

(MDNI)

mark x reader , newlyweds , first time , shy sex , desperate mark , shaky nervous mark , husband material mark ofc , sappy romantic love , missionary, slow sensual sex , kisses lots of kisses, unprotected sex womp womp , requested here , not proof read since i am unofficially but officially coming back

sounds of quiet giggles and rushed kisses filled the hallways of the venue. you and mark crashing into every wall trying to keep your lips connected. mark groaned as he bumped his leg into a flower pot,

“shhh mark they’re gonna hear us!”

mark laughed as he brought he hands forward to cup your face, quickly planting a loud kiss on your lips,

“my love, we’re the guests of honor, i think they’ve noticed we’re gone by now.”

yes, of course the guest have noticed, who wouldn’t notice the newlyweds slipping away for some much deserved alone time.

somehow between kisses you and mark had found your way into an empty bedroom, hopefully it wasn’t one of your guest’s rooms, because by the end of tonight it would be ruined.

mark was quick to drag you towards the bed, giggling as you tripped on the ends of your puffy dress. he sat at the edge of the bed placing you in between his open legs, admiring you.

“you look like a princess, my princess.”

you smiled down at him cupping his face with your hands before planting a soft kiss to his lips,

“your wife mark, not a princess.”

he giggled into your light kisses, your lips tickling his face,

“even better baby, my wife. all mine.”

you hummed in agreement, a small smile on your face as you heard mark groan softly above you, your lips trailing down his neck.

his hands came up to hold your waist, pulling you closer into his chest,

“f-feels good baby, ke-keep going,”

you continued to work your lips on his neck, your hands coming up to loosen his tie, his buttons following soon after.

his hands held yours, stopping your movements. you leaned back to look at him, his cheeks already pretty and pink, a soft glow in his eyes,

“i want you baby, so bad. let me have you, please?”

you pecked his pouting lips, holding his hands tightly in yours,

“i’m all yours mark.”

his blush spread further down his neck, heart beating hard against his chest as he let go of your hands, reaching to unzip the back of your dress. you giggled as he struggled, a light huff escaping his lips,

“stop laughing, i don’t wanna ruin your dress!”

you reached back to help him out, immediately unzipping the dress and shrugging it off your shoulders. mark felt the air leave his lungs as you revealed yourself to him, no bra underneath, just you, bare and beautiful.

he reached forward to hold your breasts, a soft moan leaving your lips at the feeling of his cold hands,

“can i?”

you nodded quickly, gasping as he latched onto your nipple. mark thought this might be one of the best moments of his life, right after marrying you of course. he swirled his tongue around the hard bud, sucking gently to savor the taste of your skin. you threaded your fingers through his hair gently tugging at the strands.

he was quick to pull the rest of your dress down, detaching himself from your chest so that you could step out of the confines. you stood in front of him, only your white lace panties covering your core. mark didn't waste any time in picking you up, laying you down of the soft bed before kissing down your body,

"my girl's so beautiful, so beautiful baby, and all mine."

you bit your lip to hold back your whines, his soft lips leaving goosebumps on your skin as he got closer to your core. a light kiss to your clothed cunt was enough to have you whining in his grasp, a light chuckle leaving his lips,

"feel good baby?"

you nodded quickly,

"yes mark, please, keep going."

he leaned into your core, kissing the wet area lightly before slowly pulling your panties to the side. your breath was tense as you rested on your elbows, watching mark's every move. his lashes fluttered as he brought his eyes up to meet yours, his tongue poking out shyly to get a taste of you. you jerked your hips up at the sensation, moaning softly. you brought your hand up to cover your face, embarrassed by your movements. mark sucked on your clit gently, hands coming up to grip at your tits,

"don't hide baby, you're so perfect, taste so good, fuck."

all you could do was whine in response as mark dove back into your cunt, lapping at your juices like a man starved. his hands explored your body, flicking at your nipples, rubbing your waist, massaging circles into your thighs. mark meant it when he said he wanted all of you.

you felt a strange feeling in your lower belly, the muscles of your legs tightening with every flick of mark's tongue,

"mark- mark i think i'm close, oh my- please- feel like i'm gonna-"

he brought his hand down, fingers coming to rub quick circles on your swollen clit,

"it's okay, just let it go baby, i'm right here."

your toes curled as you felt the band in your stomach snap, your hips slightly rising from the bed as you chased mark's rough fingers.

"justtt like that, mhm, feels good right baby?"

you moaned in agreement, chest heaving as you relaxed back into the bed. you reached for mark's unbuttoned shirt, pulling him towards your lips. the kiss was sloppy, your muscles weak and mark's just starting to fire up. he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you up towards his chest, your core rubbing against his clothed length. you felt him grind into you, the fabric of his suit pants burning your sensitive clit. you winced at the overstimulation a whine leaving your lips as mark continued to kiss your exposed skin,

"sorry angel, can't wait anymore, need you so bad."

he reached down to his pants, shaky hands working at his belt and zipper as sweat built along his hairline. he quickly shoved his pants and shirt off, only his cheetah print boxers left on his body. you let out soft laugh, shocked by his choice of underwear. he looked down towards his crotch groaning loudly,

"shit, i forgot! haechan told me-“

“mark, those are gonna be on the floor in two seconds i dont care what stupid bet you made with haechan, please just do something.”

he was quick to take his boxers off, equally as desperate as you,

“fuck, you look so good oh my-.”

mark looked down between your legs, his cock twitching at the sight of your soaked panties, white lace practically invisible. he brought his thumb up to rub at your slit, his finger harsh against your swollen bud. you sighed at the feeling hands coming down to hold mark's length.

"shitt baby, wait- wait."

he moved your hands, taking a hold of his own length and laying it on your core. mark moaned at the sight of you, laid out in front of him perfect hair now a mess, nipples perked up and your legs tense as you waited for his next move.

he leaned down against you body, face coming to rest in your neck, his breath shaky. his hand guided his length to your entrance, panties pushed to the side.

"i love you so much baby, i swear-."

he slid into you slowly, your walls burning at the stretch. your arms wrapped around mark's back as he eased into you. his loud moans filling your ears.

"fuck, fuck, fuck- so tight, oh my-"

the feeling was strange, the slight burn leaving fast as he finally filled you completely. he moved his face from your neck, wanting to see your face,

"feel okay baby?"

you nodded quickly, blushing at the realization that your makeup was probably a mess, hair that was once neat now a mess against the sheets. mark brought his hand up to move a stray piece of hair from your face, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips,

"i've never seen anyone as beautiful as you ba- fuck, don't squeeze around me like that."

you giggled as his head fell to your chest, hands clenching your hips as he pressed his hips harder against yours. you moaned at the feeling of him deep inside you, tip kissing your cervix.

"mark, baby, please move."

he nodded against your chest, a small mhm leaving his lips as he slowly dragged his length out of you. mark was a mess, grabbing at your skin, sweat building on his entire body as he tried not the cum.

his thrusts were slow but harsh, each thrust pushing you further up the bed. he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you in place as his thrusts became quicker,

"feel s' good baby, made for me- baby you were made for me- god."

"yes, yes, yes mark, please don't stop- please."

mark thought he was losing his mind. the feeling of you squeezing around him with each thrust, your nails clawing at his back. mark wanted you to cum around him. no. he needed you to.

"come on mama-"

he moved his hand down to your core, fingers starting to rub circles on your sensitive bud.

"mark, oh my- mark feel so good, please- fuck."

he watched you squirm under him, leaning down to plant wet kisses all over your chest, his thrust and fingers relentless. his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to hold in his cum, stomach tightening as your wet pussy clenched around him, your orgasm building quickly.

you threaded your fingers through mark's hair pulling him away from your chest and towards your lips. the kiss was messy, teeth clashing as his thrusts shook you,

"i love you mark, love you so much, i want you to fill me up baby, i'm all yours mark, all yours."

your sweet words and your sweet pussy were enough to drive mark off the edge, his hands gripping you tightly as he filled you to the brim,

"shitt, y/n- fuck, you're all mine baby- fuck, love you so much."

you squeezed your legs around his waist, your second orgasm of the night making your head fuzzy. you gripped onto mark as your mouth fell into a silent moan, only the sound of mark's heavy breathing filling the room.

you winced as he slowly slid out of you, cum dripping from your core,

"you're so perfect angel, so perfect."

he placed a kiss onto your lips and then another on your cheek then your forehead, and then your lips again,

"mark-"

"i just lost my virginity to the girl of my dreams and i made her cum twice!"

you giggled as he leaned in to give you a kiss, softly pushing him away,

"i married a dork! oh my god!"

he held your hands down, kissing all over your face,

"your dork baby, your dork."

your dork indeed.

[hyucks-archive]

[16:54]

you shake your head, blinking your dry eyes a few times in an attempt to keep yourself alert. although you're very much enjoying jisung's story time, you can't control your eyelids that are gradually getting heavier and heavier.

mark notices the small change in your smile - yes, you are still very much in a good mood, but he can tell that you're tired. he shimmies himself a little closer to you, whispering in your ear, "tired?"

you turn to him, your smile a little wider than before. "a little," you admit. mark crosses his legs, tapping gently on his left thigh, "want to rest?" he offers.

nodding your head, you lean into the floor, resting your head against mark's leg. he shifts a little, doing his best to ensure that you're comfortable. "goodnight," he whispers, pressing a soft peck to the side of your head.

you close your eyes, jisung's loud and excited voice still going on about how he saw a dog on the street playing with a bird. you didn't really mind the noise from the reactions and conversation between the guys, since it did serve as white noise for you to fall asleep to.

but then, suddenly, you feel mark's cold hand cupping your ear. you keep your eyes closed, and you don't move.

mark looks down at you, a small smile plastered on his face. he doesn't want his noisy members to disturb your sleep.

a good year into your relationship and yet, the smallest gestures he does still makes the same set of butterflies from a year ago, flutter about in your stomach.

you'd think this is the sweetest he can be, but mark always surpasses your expectations.

you feel and hear the vibration of his phone, indicating an incoming call. mark looks at the caller id, then looks back at you. he needs to answer the call, so with his free hand, he reaches for your limp arm, gently raising it by your wrist. he removes the hand he had cupped over your ear, and places your own palm over your head. you hear his muffled, "hello?"

you try to hold back a giggle, knowing fully well how red and shy he'd get if he knew you are awake through all of this. he ends the call quickly, and once you hear him say, "okay, bye," your hand is removed and replaced by his hand, once again.

unable to hold yourself back anymore, you open your eyes to see him staring down at you, his loving gaze shifting into a questioning one.

"you're so cute," you tell him, pulling him in for a quick peck.