Nct Mark Lee - Tumblr Posts
[10:07pm] “whatever it is, we can fix this-” he moved towards her, attempting to grab her hands, as a gesture that everything was going to be alright. she immediately responded by backing up, shaking her head. “y/n...” he said cautiously. “i-i’m sorry, please let me make it up to you, i’ll do anything,” he pleaded.
“it’s too late, mark,” she said, moving past him to grab her suitcase that was already packed with all of her stuff. “it’s been this way for a while,” she stated as she opened the bedroom door and left. he stood there, speechless and heartbroken. and that’s when the tears started falling. he knew a while back he messed up, he just never did anything to fix it.
wowowow user rnjfy posted wowowow this drabble is inspired by lauren spencer-smith’s song!! it’s really good and has me on my knees
fingers crossed — lmh.
in which he said he loved you but he must’ve had his fingers crossed.
—
the soft music rang throughout the fancy and definitely busy restaurant was a big contrast to the harsh pounding of your heart against your chest. the ice in your drink had melted—and the condensation had started to roll off the cool glass and onto the red cloth that lined your table.
“ma’am? if you’re not going to order anything, we’ll need to give up the table…” the assigned waitress looked at you with pity swirling in her eyes. this was the second time she’d approached you in the half hour you had sat and stared into nothing.
you could feel the embarassment creeping up your neck—but you swallowed it down as you smiled up at the young woman.
“sorry. you probably need the table… i’ll take my leave then.” after briefly bowing to apologize for any inconvenience, you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as the cold wind greeted you.
you [7:16]: i’m at our table! the food looks really good, come soon! xx
no response. you wondered why you hoped for anything different, when all he seemed to be doing with you now is tolerating your presence. you terribly missed your boyfriend, but with how tonight was going you weren’t really sure how to feel.
the jingle of your keys sounded terribly loud as it echoed through you and your boyfriend’s empty apartment. you noticed the spot on your shoe rack where mark’s shoes were supposed to be—empty.
“as usual,” you mutter to no one in particular. the word ‘empty’ seemed to start to become a constant in your life.
your feet felt sore as you placed your keys in the small bowl you two had set up by the door.
“you suck at pottery.”
mark’s loud laugh surrounded the two of you as he struggled with the clay in his hands.
“dude! it’s crumbli—folding? what the hell!” he giggles as he tries to perfect the small bowl. your eyes lingered on his dark hair, his bangs falling slightly over his eyes.
“you suck at pottery.” you confirmed with a small nod, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes—a small smile curling at the edge of his lips.
“it’s just a unique bowl!”
your heart felt constricted in your chest. the small homey apartment that you two shared used to be close to what you would call your sanctuary.
now, you feel so so suffocated by the memories that would wash over you as you glanced over the decorations, furniture, artwork and other things that were scattered across your living space.
you walked slowly. the realization of what you need to do sinking in. your gaze catches the small couch that you both paid for.
“what d’you wanna watch?”
mark curls his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest as he flicks through the movies and shows netflix had to offer. you could hear his heartbeat going a mile a minute, but you leave your focus on the tv sat across from the two of you.
“what about friends?”
laughing loudly, mark quickly scrolls back up to the ‘watch again’ portion and clicks on the series you desperately loved.
burying his nose into your hair, “how are you not tired of this show?”
he giggles softly, the sound of the laugh track blending in with the silence of your apartment.
gulping down the memory, you start towards your shared bedroom. the sight of mark’s favorite guitar sitting next to your bed makes you uncomfortable, the tears in your shaky eyes seemed to be endless.
“y/n! c’mere. i wrote a song and uh… i wanted you to hear it, if that’s okay?”
the blush on mark’s face was something burned into your head. it was the most adorable sight and you never wanted to forget.
you nod, your hair bouncing at your shoulders as you sit next to him, watching as he clears his throat and fixes his fingers on the neck of his guitar.
his rough voice surrounds both your figures. the chords and the words—all of them blended so well together. they screamed mark, and you felt like you were falling in love all over again.
your movements felt robotic. you barely processed that your closet was now empty. mark’s clothes hung on their own, taking up only half of the large closet that occupied the left-hand side of your room.
the shine of your framed picture catches your gaze—it sat on your bedside table looking lonely now that you had taken your jewelry and other various knick knacks off the wooden table.
you pick it up shakily, your fingers caressing the smooth frame. the picture of you and mark on your first date, a concert. he had a bottle of water in his hand and his arm was slung around you.
his smile haunted you now, the look of love in both of your eyes felt taunting. your heart hurt even more.
a part of you longed to stay. to give yourself to mark, because at the end of the day, he’d come home. home to you. whispering apologies and empty promises of a next time.
but you were tired. and you’ve tried. you tried to stay. you tried to love him even when you knew he didn’t love you anymore.
the soft click of your apartment door sends a painful ripple from your heart to the rest of your body.
you stand there for a moment, your eyes closed as you whisper your last wish into the dead of the night.
i wish you said you loved me, when you didn’t have your fingers crossed.
—
in your face writer’s block!!!! i’m finally back with a drabble and hopefully this pushes my writer’s block fully away >:((( shares & likes are appreciated! i love you all <333
wowowow user rnjfy posted wowowow this drabble is inspired by lauren spencer-smith’s song!! it’s really good and has me on my knees
fingers crossed — lmh.
in which he said he loved you but he must’ve had his fingers crossed.
—
the soft music rang throughout the fancy and definitely busy restaurant was a big contrast to the harsh pounding of your heart against your chest. the ice in your drink had melted—and the condensation had started to roll off the cool glass and onto the red cloth that lined your table.
“ma’am? if you’re not going to order anything, we’ll need to give up the table…” the assigned waitress looked at you with pity swirling in her eyes. this was the second time she’d approached you in the half hour you had sat and stared into nothing.
you could feel the embarassment creeping up your neck—but you swallowed it down as you smiled up at the young woman.
“sorry. you probably need the table… i’ll take my leave then.” after briefly bowing to apologize for any inconvenience, you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as the cold wind greeted you.
you [7:16]: i’m at our table! the food looks really good, come soon! xx
no response. you wondered why you hoped for anything different, when all he seemed to be doing with you now is tolerating your presence. you terribly missed your boyfriend, but with how tonight was going you weren’t really sure how to feel.
the jingle of your keys sounded terribly loud as it echoed through you and your boyfriend’s empty apartment. you noticed the spot on your shoe rack where mark’s shoes were supposed to be—empty.
“as usual,” you mutter to no one in particular. the word ‘empty’ seemed to start to become a constant in your life.
your feet felt sore as you placed your keys in the small bowl you two had set up by the door.
“you suck at pottery.”
mark’s loud laugh surrounded the two of you as he struggled with the clay in his hands.
“dude! it’s crumbli—folding? what the hell!” he giggles as he tries to perfect the small bowl. your eyes lingered on his dark hair, his bangs falling slightly over his eyes.
“you suck at pottery.” you confirmed with a small nod, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes—a small smile curling at the edge of his lips.
“it’s just a unique bowl!”
your heart felt constricted in your chest. the small homey apartment that you two shared used to be close to what you would call your sanctuary.
now, you feel so so suffocated by the memories that would wash over you as you glanced over the decorations, furniture, artwork and other things that were scattered across your living space.
you walked slowly. the realization of what you need to do sinking in. your gaze catches the small couch that you both paid for.
“what d’you wanna watch?”
mark curls his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest as he flicks through the movies and shows netflix had to offer. you could hear his heartbeat going a mile a minute, but you leave your focus on the tv sat across from the two of you.
“what about friends?”
laughing loudly, mark quickly scrolls back up to the ‘watch again’ portion and clicks on the series you desperately loved.
burying his nose into your hair, “how are you not tired of this show?”
he giggles softly, the sound of the laugh track blending in with the silence of your apartment.
gulping down the memory, you start towards your shared bedroom. the sight of mark’s favorite guitar sitting next to your bed makes you uncomfortable, the tears in your shaky eyes seemed to be endless.
“y/n! c’mere. i wrote a song and uh… i wanted you to hear it, if that’s okay?”
the blush on mark’s face was something burned into your head. it was the most adorable sight and you never wanted to forget.
you nod, your hair bouncing at your shoulders as you sit next to him, watching as he clears his throat and fixes his fingers on the neck of his guitar.
his rough voice surrounds both your figures. the chords and the words—all of them blended so well together. they screamed mark, and you felt like you were falling in love all over again.
your movements felt robotic. you barely processed that your closet was now empty. mark’s clothes hung on their own, taking up only half of the large closet that occupied the left-hand side of your room.
the shine of your framed picture catches your gaze—it sat on your bedside table looking lonely now that you had taken your jewelry and other various knick knacks off the wooden table.
you pick it up shakily, your fingers caressing the smooth frame. the picture of you and mark on your first date, a concert. he had a bottle of water in his hand and his arm was slung around you.
his smile haunted you now, the look of love in both of your eyes felt taunting. your heart hurt even more.
a part of you longed to stay. to give yourself to mark, because at the end of the day, he’d come home. home to you. whispering apologies and empty promises of a next time.
but you were tired. and you’ve tried. you tried to stay. you tried to love him even when you knew he didn’t love you anymore.
the soft click of your apartment door sends a painful ripple from your heart to the rest of your body.
you stand there for a moment, your eyes closed as you whisper your last wish into the dead of the night.
i wish you said you loved me, when you didn’t have your fingers crossed.
—
in your face writer’s block!!!! i’m finally back with a drabble and hopefully this pushes my writer’s block fully away >:((( shares & likes are appreciated! i love you all <333
wowowow user rnjfy posted wowowow this drabble is inspired by lauren spencer-smith’s song!! it’s really good and has me on my knees
fingers crossed — lmh.
in which he said he loved you but he must’ve had his fingers crossed.
—
the soft music rang throughout the fancy and definitely busy restaurant was a big contrast to the harsh pounding of your heart against your chest. the ice in your drink had melted—and the condensation had started to roll off the cool glass and onto the red cloth that lined your table.
“ma’am? if you’re not going to order anything, we’ll need to give up the table…” the assigned waitress looked at you with pity swirling in her eyes. this was the second time she’d approached you in the half hour you had sat and stared into nothing.
you could feel the embarassment creeping up your neck—but you swallowed it down as you smiled up at the young woman.
“sorry. you probably need the table… i’ll take my leave then.” after briefly bowing to apologize for any inconvenience, you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as the cold wind greeted you.
you [7:16]: i’m at our table! the food looks really good, come soon! xx
no response. you wondered why you hoped for anything different, when all he seemed to be doing with you now is tolerating your presence. you terribly missed your boyfriend, but with how tonight was going you weren’t really sure how to feel.
the jingle of your keys sounded terribly loud as it echoed through you and your boyfriend’s empty apartment. you noticed the spot on your shoe rack where mark’s shoes were supposed to be—empty.
“as usual,” you mutter to no one in particular. the word ‘empty’ seemed to start to become a constant in your life.
your feet felt sore as you placed your keys in the small bowl you two had set up by the door.
“you suck at pottery.”
mark’s loud laugh surrounded the two of you as he struggled with the clay in his hands.
“dude! it’s crumbli—folding? what the hell!” he giggles as he tries to perfect the small bowl. your eyes lingered on his dark hair, his bangs falling slightly over his eyes.
“you suck at pottery.” you confirmed with a small nod, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes—a small smile curling at the edge of his lips.
“it’s just a unique bowl!”
your heart felt constricted in your chest. the small homey apartment that you two shared used to be close to what you would call your sanctuary.
now, you feel so so suffocated by the memories that would wash over you as you glanced over the decorations, furniture, artwork and other things that were scattered across your living space.
you walked slowly. the realization of what you need to do sinking in. your gaze catches the small couch that you both paid for.
“what d’you wanna watch?”
mark curls his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest as he flicks through the movies and shows netflix had to offer. you could hear his heartbeat going a mile a minute, but you leave your focus on the tv sat across from the two of you.
“what about friends?”
laughing loudly, mark quickly scrolls back up to the ‘watch again’ portion and clicks on the series you desperately loved.
burying his nose into your hair, “how are you not tired of this show?”
he giggles softly, the sound of the laugh track blending in with the silence of your apartment.
gulping down the memory, you start towards your shared bedroom. the sight of mark’s favorite guitar sitting next to your bed makes you uncomfortable, the tears in your shaky eyes seemed to be endless.
“y/n! c’mere. i wrote a song and uh… i wanted you to hear it, if that’s okay?”
the blush on mark’s face was something burned into your head. it was the most adorable sight and you never wanted to forget.
you nod, your hair bouncing at your shoulders as you sit next to him, watching as he clears his throat and fixes his fingers on the neck of his guitar.
his rough voice surrounds both your figures. the chords and the words—all of them blended so well together. they screamed mark, and you felt like you were falling in love all over again.
your movements felt robotic. you barely processed that your closet was now empty. mark’s clothes hung on their own, taking up only half of the large closet that occupied the left-hand side of your room.
the shine of your framed picture catches your gaze—it sat on your bedside table looking lonely now that you had taken your jewelry and other various knick knacks off the wooden table.
you pick it up shakily, your fingers caressing the smooth frame. the picture of you and mark on your first date, a concert. he had a bottle of water in his hand and his arm was slung around you.
his smile haunted you now, the look of love in both of your eyes felt taunting. your heart hurt even more.
a part of you longed to stay. to give yourself to mark, because at the end of the day, he’d come home. home to you. whispering apologies and empty promises of a next time.
but you were tired. and you’ve tried. you tried to stay. you tried to love him even when you knew he didn’t love you anymore.
the soft click of your apartment door sends a painful ripple from your heart to the rest of your body.
you stand there for a moment, your eyes closed as you whisper your last wish into the dead of the night.
i wish you said you loved me, when you didn’t have your fingers crossed.
—
in your face writer’s block!!!! i’m finally back with a drabble and hopefully this pushes my writer’s block fully away >:((( shares & likes are appreciated! i love you all <333
wowowow user rnjfy posted wowowow this drabble is inspired by lauren spencer-smith’s song!! it’s really good and has me on my knees
fingers crossed — lmh.
in which he said he loved you but he must’ve had his fingers crossed.
—
the soft music rang throughout the fancy and definitely busy restaurant was a big contrast to the harsh pounding of your heart against your chest. the ice in your drink had melted—and the condensation had started to roll off the cool glass and onto the red cloth that lined your table.
“ma’am? if you’re not going to order anything, we’ll need to give up the table…” the assigned waitress looked at you with pity swirling in her eyes. this was the second time she’d approached you in the half hour you had sat and stared into nothing.
you could feel the embarassment creeping up your neck—but you swallowed it down as you smiled up at the young woman.
“sorry. you probably need the table… i’ll take my leave then.” after briefly bowing to apologize for any inconvenience, you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as the cold wind greeted you.
you [7:16]: i’m at our table! the food looks really good, come soon! xx
no response. you wondered why you hoped for anything different, when all he seemed to be doing with you now is tolerating your presence. you terribly missed your boyfriend, but with how tonight was going you weren’t really sure how to feel.
the jingle of your keys sounded terribly loud as it echoed through you and your boyfriend’s empty apartment. you noticed the spot on your shoe rack where mark’s shoes were supposed to be—empty.
“as usual,” you mutter to no one in particular. the word ‘empty’ seemed to start to become a constant in your life.
your feet felt sore as you placed your keys in the small bowl you two had set up by the door.
“you suck at pottery.”
mark’s loud laugh surrounded the two of you as he struggled with the clay in his hands.
“dude! it’s crumbli—folding? what the hell!” he giggles as he tries to perfect the small bowl. your eyes lingered on his dark hair, his bangs falling slightly over his eyes.
“you suck at pottery.” you confirmed with a small nod, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes—a small smile curling at the edge of his lips.
“it’s just a unique bowl!”
your heart felt constricted in your chest. the small homey apartment that you two shared used to be close to what you would call your sanctuary.
now, you feel so so suffocated by the memories that would wash over you as you glanced over the decorations, furniture, artwork and other things that were scattered across your living space.
you walked slowly. the realization of what you need to do sinking in. your gaze catches the small couch that you both paid for.
“what d’you wanna watch?”
mark curls his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest as he flicks through the movies and shows netflix had to offer. you could hear his heartbeat going a mile a minute, but you leave your focus on the tv sat across from the two of you.
“what about friends?”
laughing loudly, mark quickly scrolls back up to the ‘watch again’ portion and clicks on the series you desperately loved.
burying his nose into your hair, “how are you not tired of this show?”
he giggles softly, the sound of the laugh track blending in with the silence of your apartment.
gulping down the memory, you start towards your shared bedroom. the sight of mark’s favorite guitar sitting next to your bed makes you uncomfortable, the tears in your shaky eyes seemed to be endless.
“y/n! c’mere. i wrote a song and uh… i wanted you to hear it, if that’s okay?”
the blush on mark’s face was something burned into your head. it was the most adorable sight and you never wanted to forget.
you nod, your hair bouncing at your shoulders as you sit next to him, watching as he clears his throat and fixes his fingers on the neck of his guitar.
his rough voice surrounds both your figures. the chords and the words—all of them blended so well together. they screamed mark, and you felt like you were falling in love all over again.
your movements felt robotic. you barely processed that your closet was now empty. mark’s clothes hung on their own, taking up only half of the large closet that occupied the left-hand side of your room.
the shine of your framed picture catches your gaze—it sat on your bedside table looking lonely now that you had taken your jewelry and other various knick knacks off the wooden table.
you pick it up shakily, your fingers caressing the smooth frame. the picture of you and mark on your first date, a concert. he had a bottle of water in his hand and his arm was slung around you.
his smile haunted you now, the look of love in both of your eyes felt taunting. your heart hurt even more.
a part of you longed to stay. to give yourself to mark, because at the end of the day, he’d come home. home to you. whispering apologies and empty promises of a next time.
but you were tired. and you’ve tried. you tried to stay. you tried to love him even when you knew he didn’t love you anymore.
the soft click of your apartment door sends a painful ripple from your heart to the rest of your body.
you stand there for a moment, your eyes closed as you whisper your last wish into the dead of the night.
i wish you said you loved me, when you didn’t have your fingers crossed.
—
in your face writer’s block!!!! i’m finally back with a drabble and hopefully this pushes my writer’s block fully away >:((( shares & likes are appreciated! i love you all <333
wowowow user rnjfy posted wowowow this drabble is inspired by lauren spencer-smith’s song!! it’s really good and has me on my knees
fingers crossed — lmh.
in which he said he loved you but he must’ve had his fingers crossed.
—
the soft music rang throughout the fancy and definitely busy restaurant was a big contrast to the harsh pounding of your heart against your chest. the ice in your drink had melted—and the condensation had started to roll off the cool glass and onto the red cloth that lined your table.
“ma’am? if you’re not going to order anything, we’ll need to give up the table…” the assigned waitress looked at you with pity swirling in her eyes. this was the second time she’d approached you in the half hour you had sat and stared into nothing.
you could feel the embarassment creeping up your neck—but you swallowed it down as you smiled up at the young woman.
“sorry. you probably need the table… i’ll take my leave then.” after briefly bowing to apologize for any inconvenience, you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as the cold wind greeted you.
you [7:16]: i’m at our table! the food looks really good, come soon! xx
no response. you wondered why you hoped for anything different, when all he seemed to be doing with you now is tolerating your presence. you terribly missed your boyfriend, but with how tonight was going you weren’t really sure how to feel.
the jingle of your keys sounded terribly loud as it echoed through you and your boyfriend’s empty apartment. you noticed the spot on your shoe rack where mark’s shoes were supposed to be—empty.
“as usual,” you mutter to no one in particular. the word ‘empty’ seemed to start to become a constant in your life.
your feet felt sore as you placed your keys in the small bowl you two had set up by the door.
“you suck at pottery.”
mark’s loud laugh surrounded the two of you as he struggled with the clay in his hands.
“dude! it’s crumbli—folding? what the hell!” he giggles as he tries to perfect the small bowl. your eyes lingered on his dark hair, his bangs falling slightly over his eyes.
“you suck at pottery.” you confirmed with a small nod, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes—a small smile curling at the edge of his lips.
“it’s just a unique bowl!”
your heart felt constricted in your chest. the small homey apartment that you two shared used to be close to what you would call your sanctuary.
now, you feel so so suffocated by the memories that would wash over you as you glanced over the decorations, furniture, artwork and other things that were scattered across your living space.
you walked slowly. the realization of what you need to do sinking in. your gaze catches the small couch that you both paid for.
“what d’you wanna watch?”
mark curls his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest as he flicks through the movies and shows netflix had to offer. you could hear his heartbeat going a mile a minute, but you leave your focus on the tv sat across from the two of you.
“what about friends?”
laughing loudly, mark quickly scrolls back up to the ‘watch again’ portion and clicks on the series you desperately loved.
burying his nose into your hair, “how are you not tired of this show?”
he giggles softly, the sound of the laugh track blending in with the silence of your apartment.
gulping down the memory, you start towards your shared bedroom. the sight of mark’s favorite guitar sitting next to your bed makes you uncomfortable, the tears in your shaky eyes seemed to be endless.
“y/n! c’mere. i wrote a song and uh… i wanted you to hear it, if that’s okay?”
the blush on mark’s face was something burned into your head. it was the most adorable sight and you never wanted to forget.
you nod, your hair bouncing at your shoulders as you sit next to him, watching as he clears his throat and fixes his fingers on the neck of his guitar.
his rough voice surrounds both your figures. the chords and the words—all of them blended so well together. they screamed mark, and you felt like you were falling in love all over again.
your movements felt robotic. you barely processed that your closet was now empty. mark’s clothes hung on their own, taking up only half of the large closet that occupied the left-hand side of your room.
the shine of your framed picture catches your gaze—it sat on your bedside table looking lonely now that you had taken your jewelry and other various knick knacks off the wooden table.
you pick it up shakily, your fingers caressing the smooth frame. the picture of you and mark on your first date, a concert. he had a bottle of water in his hand and his arm was slung around you.
his smile haunted you now, the look of love in both of your eyes felt taunting. your heart hurt even more.
a part of you longed to stay. to give yourself to mark, because at the end of the day, he’d come home. home to you. whispering apologies and empty promises of a next time.
but you were tired. and you’ve tried. you tried to stay. you tried to love him even when you knew he didn’t love you anymore.
the soft click of your apartment door sends a painful ripple from your heart to the rest of your body.
you stand there for a moment, your eyes closed as you whisper your last wish into the dead of the night.
i wish you said you loved me, when you didn’t have your fingers crossed.
—
in your face writer’s block!!!! i’m finally back with a drabble and hopefully this pushes my writer’s block fully away >:((( shares & likes are appreciated! i love you all <333
request for established relationship!mark pls where reader comforts him while he’s in quarantine and reassuring him about the whole tds2 situation :((((
omg omg this is so !! i feel so bad for the dreamies, and i really hope they were able to find their own comforts through this situation :( thank you for the req op ! i hope you enjoy < 3
warning/s : hurt / comfort, sobbing!mark :(
you are enough — lmh.
in which you being there for him was simply all he needed.
“baby? what’s going on?”
your tired voice filters through mark’s phone. he hears the confusion and exhaustion clearly even though he’s not with you physically. he tried to look for any sign of annoyance in your voice but—
“mark? are you there?” your continuous sincere concern could’ve brought him to his knees.
a sob rips through his lips, “y/n—“
and it was as if a bucket of ice cold water was dumped right on you. your eyes widen as you hurriedly sit up with your phone pressed to your ear.
“baby, hey. why’re you crying?” your tone is light as mark listens to the ruffles of your sheets. he faintly hears you moving about before his screen lights up with a notification.
y/n <3 is requesting to video call with you!
a small smile tugs itself onto his lips as he hesitantly presses the camera icon on his phone. he’s wearing a black jacket with the hoodie up and despite him only showing half his face, you could tell that he’d been crying for a while before calling you.
“there’s my favorite boy. what’s going on, hmm?” your face was illuminated by the yellow light of your lamp. your hair was a mess and your eyes were so so tired, but all mark could do was sob even more at the love and concern you had for him that seemed to overpower anything else.
you watch as his face crumples, his head tilting lower so you wouldn’t see him.
“i-i just feel like i’ve disappointed them, our fans.” hearing his pained voice even just through your phone was excruciating. you wished of nothing more than to hold him in your arms.
“they’ve been waiting so long—we’ve been waiting so long. the guys and i have been practicing so hard and yet i just had to go and mess things up—“
“hey, hey. none of that now.” your gentle voice stops his spiralling thoughts as he stares at you through his phone. he sees the light frown you now have on your face and how you’ve started so pout a little at the conversation you two are having.
“you didn’t mess things up, okay? these things happen for a reason. no one’s disappointed in you—especially your fans. they love and care for you so much and prioritize your health just as much as the guys and i do.”
he watches as you smile gently at him, “have you opened twitter? everyone’s wishing you a speedy recovery. not one person is saying anything about being disappointed in you.”
your words were slowly putting his heart at ease. he was always surprised at the way you seemed to be able to calm his heart down no matter how far you seemed to be from him.
“i love you, my sweet boy. and they do too. we all just want you to get better and we know you’ll be able to come back even better than ever!” your giggles fill his quiet room as you imitate his opening performance of ‘beatbox’.
“i love you so much, my y/n.” he whispers into the phone, more tears pricking at his eyes—but now, they were because of your abundant love for him.
your smile warms his heart, the look in your eyes was something he wished to cherish forever. “i’m sorry i can’t be there with you.”
mark immediately shakes his head, his eyes shining towards you.
“your presence is more than enough for me.”
—
rather short !! but i hope you enjoyed this nonetheless op ! :DDD
dear lord when i get to heaven please let me bring my man 🙏
Ure so funny because someone asks for a smutty one shot and probably expects the bare minimum but u go all out with a plot and freak shit 😂 With that being said...do your best with a Mark smut shot I can't wait to see what u do with it
MARK LEE (마크리) — DO AS I SAY (18+)
✧ MDNI!
your university had a way of swallowing you whole, but you welcomed it. it wasn't that you were detached or indifferent, but you had mastered the art of restraint. no one saw the tears you never cried, or the secrets you cradled like fragile relics. this place—the sprawling campus of glass and ivy—was a sanctuary for people like you. people who wore masks, hid their sins behind designer handbags, and attended charity events only to gossip about who slept with whom. it was a twisted ecosystem, where loyalty was paper-thin and friendships were only as deep as the amount of money spent over dinner.
you had a circle, too. a group of friends who mirrored you in more ways than you liked to admit. their laughter was loud, their wallets even louder. it was always about excess—who could drink more, who had the latest luxury item, who flaunted their wealth the loudest. but you? you were different. you were quieter, more calculated. you didn't feel the need to shout for attention because it came to you naturally. people were drawn to you, inexplicably, like you held a secret they were desperate to know.
mark lee was one of them, an outsider who somehow managed to worm his way into your world. he was loud, confident in a way that made you pause. he wasn't like the others, with their inherited wealth and privilege. mark had clawed his way into this school, thanks to a scholarship he barely mentioned. the scholarship wasn't just any grant; it was paid for by your father, a token of goodwill to silence a scandal at mark's previous school. money exchanged hands, victims were silenced, and mark became part of this elite institution—an unspoken debt hanging between him and your family.
he was everything you shouldn't want. his presence was a direct contrast to the smooth, polished edges of your life. he didn’t fit into the mold of your carefully curated existence, yet you were drawn to him, inexplicably, maddeningly. his rough edges intrigued you, like something you wanted to smooth out, only to find yourself cut by them instead. and donghyuck, your boyfriend of ten years, could see it. he always did. he watched as your eyes lingered a little too long on mark’s frame, noticed the way you tilted your head just so when mark spoke to you.
donghyuck was a puzzle you had long since stopped trying to solve. your relationship had become a habit, a well-worn routine you couldn’t break free from, not even when your heart wasn't in it anymore. he argued too much, pushing you with his opinions until all you felt was exhaustion. you stayed because it was easier. because after a decade together, walking away seemed like an impossible task. but he wasn’t blind, he saw the way mark fascinated you, and surprisingly, he didn’t mind. in fact, he indulged you, watching as you and mark explored the boundaries of desire that donghyuck himself couldn’t reach.
it was twisted, but you all enjoyed it in your own way. donghyuck took a strange, almost voyeuristic pleasure in watching you with mark, hating himself for liking it yet never stopping you. mark, for all his rough edges, reveled in the attention, in being the object of your desire. and you? you simply allowed yourself to drift further into the tangled mess of it all, feeling nothing but a hollow satisfaction.
but secrets have a way of catching up. no matter how carefully you tried to bury them, they clawed their way to the surface, desperate to be seen. that night—on the eve of the end of your first year, when champagne flowed like water and celebrations ran late into the night—everything began to unravel. a girl, one you hadn’t even noticed before, had stolen from you. not something trivial like a necklace or a piece of clothing, but something far more dangerous. a piece of evidence.
evidence that could send your father to prison, the same man who had orchestrated mark’s scholarship, the same man who controlled more than half the people in that room. she had stolen it, and you hadn’t even realized it until it was too late. but donghyuck had. he always did.
the locker room was dimly lit, a mix of fluorescent light and shadows that stretched across the cold, tiled floor. you pressed mark against the wall, his breath hot against your neck as your lips met in a bruising kiss. his hands roamed your body, desperate and needy, while your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, never close enough. the taste of him—of adrenaline, of something forbidden—ignited a fire in your veins, pushing you deeper into the moment.
“god, you taste like trouble,” he breathed against your lips, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. his voice was low, rough, and it made you feel powerful, like you were in control of something wild and untamed. “you like that, don’t you?” you whispered back, your lips brushing the skin of his jawline as your hands traveled down his chest. his pulse quickened beneath your touch, and you reveled in the way his breath hitched.
“i like everything about you,” he groaned, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you even closer, your bodies flush against each other. his words were almost inaudible between the sounds of your heavy breathing, the slick sound of lips on skin, and the soft moan that escaped him as your hand trailed lower, teasing. “you’re obsessed,” you teased, your voice a breathless whisper against his lips. you could feel the weight of your words sinking in, could feel the way his body responded to every little move you made, like he was entirely under your spell.
mark’s response was a muffled curse, his lips crashing into yours with a renewed hunger. his hands slipped under your shirt, fingers tracing lines along your skin that left you burning for more. his touch was demanding, urgent, but just as you were about to let yourself get lost in him, a noise cut through the air—a sharp, metallic clang that echoed through the locker room. you both froze.
your eyes darted to the source of the sound, and you felt your blood run cold. donghyuck stood at the far end of the room, a piece of metal glinting in his hands. for a moment, it didn’t register. your mind was still clouded by the heat of the moment, but then you saw her. the girl. she lay crumpled on the floor, her body still and lifeless, blood pooling beneath her head. the piece of metal donghyuck held was stained red, the same red that dripped onto the floor in a steady, sickening rhythm. your breath caught in your throat as the scene unfolded in front of you, surreal and horrifying all at once.
donghyuck, calm as ever, looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, as if nothing had happened, he casually tucked the metal back into his pocket, his movements almost practiced. without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving the girl’s body behind like a discarded thought. the room felt suffocatingly quiet in his absence.
mark’s expression shifted from confusion to sheer horror, his face pale as his eyes darted between you and the lifeless body. you could see it in the way his hands trembled, in the way his chest heaved like he was struggling to breathe. “we have to—” his voice cracked, barely a whisper. “we have to tell someone.” you turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest, but not from fear. no, you were already calculating. donghyuck had done this for you. for your father. and if anyone found out, if anyone so much as breathed a word, it would be over. for all of you.
mark’s horror-stricken eyes remained on the body, unmoving, wide with disbelief. the girl’s blood had stained the sterile white tiles, her body lifeless in the shadow of donghyuck’s impulse. but you didn’t flinch. you didn’t blink. you didn’t even tremble. “no,” you said, your voice calm, unnervingly so. your gaze never left him, a slow, deliberate exhale escaping your lips. mark blinked, stunned by your composure, his brow furrowed in confusion. his chest heaved with frantic breaths, but all he got from you was a cold, calculated stare, one that sent chills down his spine. he opened his mouth to speak again, but you didn’t give him the chance. with swift, silent precision, you took his wrist, dragging him away from the scene before he could protest, the metallic tang of blood still thick in the air.
through the narrow hallways of the locker room, you led him, the sound of your heels echoing off the walls in rhythm with his shallow breathing. he stumbled behind you, still in shock, disoriented by the events that had just unfolded, by the way you hadn’t even reacted. his mind screamed at him to do something—to call for help, to alert someone—but his body refused to obey. instead, he followed you blindly, mesmerized by your grip, your unwavering control. you stopped only when you reached the deeper part of the locker room, where the maze of lockers gave way to a long wooden bench. you pushed him down onto it, your gaze heavy and unreadable, your silence more commanding than any words could ever be. mark collapsed onto the bench, his knees trembling beneath the weight of it all.
he should have been thinking about the dead girl, about the crime he’d just witnessed, about donghyuck standing there with that bloody piece of metal. but he wasn’t. he couldn’t. all he could focus on was you—the way your dress clung to your body, the heat radiating off you as you stood over him, unbothered, in control. his heart pounded in his chest, but it wasn’t fear that fueled it. you smiled, but it was a shallow, practiced thing, a facade that you wore like armor. you bent down slowly, your fingers threading through his hair, soft and gentle, almost tender as you tugged him closer. his face pressed into your stomach, and though there was fabric between you, he could feel the warmth of your skin, the press of your body against him. his breath hitched, his mind a mess, but all he could think about was you.
“you love me, don’t you, baby?” the words left your lips in a soft purr, so smooth and calculated that it made him dizzy. mark’s lips parted in shock, his thoughts spinning. he should have been focused on the horror of the moment, but the feel of your body against him, the scent of your skin, drowned everything out. he couldn’t think straight. his voice stammered out, broken, unsure. “yeah, of course i do.” your smile widened, a sweet, almost cruel thing, as you lifted his face from your stomach. the grip on his hair didn’t loosen, though. it stayed firm, your fingers weaving through his locks like you were in control of him now. his pulse raced beneath your touch, his body aching with a need he didn’t want to acknowledge, not now.
“that’s a relief,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper as you straightened up, stepping back just enough to let his eyes roam over you. his breath caught in his throat as you peeled the dress off with slow, deliberate movements, letting it fall to the floor in a soft heap at your feet. you stood before him in nothing but a bra and panties, your skin bathed in the low light of the locker room, your confidence unwavering. he couldn’t tear his gaze away, every inch of you captivating, intoxicating. his hands twitched, desperate to touch, but frozen by the weight of what had just happened.
your eyes glittered with satisfaction as his gaze devoured you. you took a step closer, lowering yourself to him, and your lips found his in a kiss that was hot and heavy, filled with a heat that made him dizzy. his hands moved instinctively to your waist, pulling you closer as your tongues met, each movement deliberate, each touch fueling the fire inside him. he groaned against your lips, your bodies pressed tight together. you pulled away slowly, your lips brushing his cheek as you whispered, “that’s why you can’t tell anyone about what you just saw.”
his expression faltered, confusion clouding his mind as the reality of the situation tried to claw its way back into focus. his breath hitched as the gruesome image of the girl flashed through his mind again, but the sight of you, so close, so irresistible, was enough to dull the horror. “he killed her,” mark rasped, his voice barely audible. you didn’t flinch. Instead, you took his hands in yours, guiding them over your body, letting his palms brush over the swell of your breasts, down your waist, over the curve of your hips, until they rested on your ass. the heat of your skin, the softness of your body, drowned out any rational thought. “yeah, shame on him,” you purred, pausing just long enough to let him squeeze, to feel the weight of you in his hands.
you leaned in, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered, “but we can’t let him go to jail. it’s over for me if he does.” you shifted slightly, letting his hands stay on you, letting him feel every inch of you. “and you don’t wanna lose me, do you?” the thought hit him like a punch to the gut. the idea of losing you, of you slipping away, made his stomach twist painfully. he didn’t know if it was the intensity of his feelings or the heat of the moment, but the thought of it broke him, made him weak. he shook his head, his voice barely a whisper as he answered, “i don’t—i won’t tell.”
relief washed over you, and it showed in the way you smiled, the way you pressed your lips to his once more. this time, the kiss was hungrier, more demanding. it felt like a reward, like a promise sealed with heat and desire, and mark let himself sink into it, unable to resist you, unable to think of anything else but you.
your fingers grazed his scalp as he sat on the bench, trembling under your touch, caught in the storm of emotions you so easily controlled. his mind was a whirl of confusion and panic, the image of the dead girl flashing briefly before his eyes. but it faded, again and again, every time you touched him, every time your skin brushed against his, pulling him back under your spell.
you could feel his tension, the way his body shook with the weight of what he’d witnessed, but you knew how to make it disappear. he was already on edge, lost in you, in the heat of the moment. his gaze followed the path of your fingers as they slid down his chest, slow and deliberate, until they reached his waist, where his breath caught in his throat. you knelt down before him, taking his face in your hands and tilting it up so his eyes met yours. “you’re okay,” you murmured, your voice soft, as if you were soothing a frightened animal. “i’ve got you.”
his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes darting to the side for a fleeting moment, as though the gruesome scene in the locker room was haunting him, begging him to act. but then your hands slid lower, over his chest, his stomach, until they stopped just above his hips, your fingers tracing the line of his waistband. the panic in his eyes dulled, replaced by something deeper, more primal, as you tugged him closer to the edge of the bench.
the soft click of your heels echoed in the silence as you placed a foot on his thigh, balancing yourself delicately. his breath hitched again as his trembling hands reached for you instinctively, but you grabbed them and placed them firmly at your waist, guiding him into touching you like you were his to worship. “you love me, right?” you purred, watching him nod, wide-eyed, desperate to please you. your hands slid to his belt, and you slowly undid the buckle with a deft flick of your wrist. “then show me.”
mark’s eyes darkened with hunger, his previous fears fading as he focused entirely on you. his hands moved on their own now, running up and down your sides, feeling the curve of your body. you slipped out of your heels, and his lips pressed reverently against your ankles, trailing kisses up your calves as he pulled your shoes off. his touch was soft at first, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid to break you, but as you cupped the back of his neck and tilted his head up to meet your gaze, the heat between you grew.
“you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, his voice trembling with reverence. you smirked, enjoying the way he was beginning to unravel beneath you, his mind drifting away from everything else but you. his lips traveled higher, over the bend of your knees and up your thighs, until they reached the hem of your panties. he hesitated for a moment, his mind flickering back to the blood-stained scene in the locker room, the image of the girl’s lifeless body gnawing at his consciousness. but the moment you tugged at his hair, pulling him closer, the thought evaporated like smoke. he was too far gone now, too lost in the warmth of your skin, the scent of your body, the taste of your lips.
“don’t think about her,” you whispered, your words wrapping around him like a command. “just focus on me.” you didn’t have to say it twice. his lips were on your skin again, hungry and eager, as he worshiped every inch of you. his hands slid over your breasts, squeezing gently, and you let out a soft sigh, arching into his touch. the more he touched you, the more his fear slipped away, replaced by the need to lose himself in you completely.
he felt your hands move lower, grazing over the bulge in his pants, stroking him through the fabric just enough to make him gasp. his breath was ragged now, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. “you’re doing so good,” you whispered, your voice soothing but firm, guiding him into submission. “just relax.”
he let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he surrendered himself to you, to the sensation of your hand stroking him, calming him, making him forget everything else. his hips bucked involuntarily as you continued your ministrations, the tension in his body building until he couldn’t think straight anymore. you palmed his painfully hard dick through his boxers, touch gentle as you pulled them down, allowing his cock to spring free, twitching and aching with an overwhelming heat in your hand.
his lips found yours again, desperate and sloppy, as he pulled you closer, his hands roaming over your body with increasing urgency. you kissed him back, just as messy, just as hungry, fueling the fire between you. he moaned into your mouth, his hands squeezing your ass as you pressed against him, the heat between you becoming unbearable with his hips shakily bucking into the warmth of your hand. “you don’t wanna lose me, do you?” you murmured against his lips, your breath hot against his skin. he shook his head frantically, his voice hoarse as he rasped out, “no, i don’t.”
you leaned back, straddling him on the bench, your thighs wrapping around his waist. your hand slipped away from his cock, reaching back to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts spill out, heavy and full. his eyes went wide with lust, and you knew he was yours, utterly and completely. “then prove it,” you whispered, leaning back to give him full view of your chest. his eyes devoured you, and without a moment’s hesitation, his mouth closed around one of your nipples, sucking and biting gently, making you gasp with pleasure. you could feel the weight of his heavy, bare cock twitching against your thigh, grazing your panties that desperately needed to be pulled off.
you reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it slowly, watching his reaction as you brought him closer to the edge. he moaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “so good for me,” you murmured, the words a dark promise in the quiet of the locker room. he nodded, his eyes glazed with lust as he took your other breast in his mouth, his tongue circling the sensitive peak. the feel of his hot mouth on your skin made you wetter, your panties soaked with desire. you needed him to fuck you, to fill you up and forget all about what he had seen.
you slid off the bench, pulling your panties down to expose your bare, wet pussy. mark’s eyes snapped to the sight, his breathing growing more ragged as he took in the vision before him. you stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, and guided him to his knees. his eyes searched yours for reassurance, and you gave it to him, a nod of your head and a smirk that promised everything would be okay. he leaned in, his breath hot on your skin as he kissed along your inner thigh, his tongue tracing the delicate lines that led to your center. you spread your legs wider, granting him full access, watching as his tongue flicked out to taste you. he looked so needy, so desperate for every bit of you, and it only turned you on even more.
his tongue darted out, licking along your slit, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. your hand found his hair again, your grip tightening as you pushed him closer, urging him to devour you. he didn’t need much convincing, his mouth moving against you with a hunger that was almost animalistic. you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the tension in your body coiling tight like a spring ready to snap. you knew he could feel it too, the way his grip on your hips tightened, his tongue moving faster, more insistent, but you couldn’t let go just yet, not with the sight of his cock pressing into his stomach. he swore he could cum untouched at just the sight of you.
you leaned back against the lockers, one hand in his hair, the other playing with your clit, guiding him, telling him exactly what you needed. his eyes never left yours, watching as you grew closer to climax, as your breath grew ragged and your legs began to tremble. your moans grew louder, echoing off the tiles, mixing with the slurping sounds of his mouth on you, and you knew he was getting off on it too, on being the one to make you feel this way. you felt yourself start to come undone, the warmth spreading through you like a wildfire, your body tightening around his face as he licked and sucked and assaulted your cunt, staining his jaw with slick.
mark’s eyes glazed over with desire as he watched you shudder and come, his tongue still lapping at your juices as if he couldn’t get enough. your hand in his hair tightened even more, pulling him closer as you rode out the last waves of pleasure. when you finally released him, he looked up at you with a dazzling smile, proud of himself for making you feel that way. you stepped closer, stroking his cheek with a gentle touch that belied the power you had over him.
his cock was now a throbbing ache, begging for release, and you knew it. you stepped closer, guiding him to stand, and bent down to kiss him again, your tongue tasting yourself on his lips. he moaned into the kiss, his hands automatically reaching for you, grabbing onto your ass and pulling you closer. your kiss grew sloppier, more desperate, as your hands reached for his zipper and pulled it down, freeing his cock. it sprang out, thick and heavy, and you couldn’t help but let out a little gasp of surprise.
you pushed him back down onto the bench, your body straddling him once more. your hand wrapped around his length, stroking it with the same expertise he had used on you. his eyes rolled back in his head as he felt you position yourself over him, his cock poised at your entrance. your pussy was still pulsing from your orgasm, and you knew he could feel it, could feel how wet you were for him. you looked down into his eyes, watching the need in them grow stronger, the fear and horror of what he had seen fading away as you lowered yourself onto him.
his cock slid into you with a groan, filling you up completely, stretching you out until you felt like you might split in two. you began to rock your hips, riding him with a slow, steady rhythm that had him panting and cursing underneath you. his hands found your breasts again, squeezing them as he watched you take him deeper and deeper. your eyes never left his, the intensity of the moment keeping you both locked in a silent battle of wills. his thoughts of the girl were gone, replaced by the overwhelming desire to please you, to make you scream his name.
you leaned in, your breasts brushing against his chest, and whispered, “so sweet to me, always listening,” your voice was a siren’s call, luring him deeper into your web of seduction. he nodded, his eyes glazed with lust, and you felt a thrill of power run through you. your hips picked up the pace, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the locker room. “i'll do whatever you say,” is all you needed to hear. he was lost in you now, his eyes never leaving your face, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you fucked him harder and faster.
his thumb found your clit and began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles, and your moans grew louder, your movements more erratic. your orgasm was building again, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. you could feel his cock swelling inside you, and you knew he was close too. “cum inside me,” you panted, your voice a desperate plea. “i want to feel you fill me up, promise me you won’t say anything.” his response was a grunt of agreement, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, sending you spiraling over the edge once more.
you threw your head back, your eyes squeezed shut as you came, your body spasming around his cock. he followed you, his hips bucking up into you as he filled you with his hot cum, the sensation making you clench around him even tighter. your walls pulsed around him, milking him dry, and he let out a guttural moan of pleasure, his body shaking with the force of his climax.
for a moment, you both sat there, panting and sweaty, his cock still buried inside you. then, with a sly smile, you leaned down to kiss him, your tongue darting into his mouth, tasting yourself on him. he kissed you back, his hands still gripping your hips tightly, his breathing uneven. he didn’t have to speak, his silence was what you asked for in the first place. you got what you wanted, you always did.
✧
a/n: elite was such a good show until it wasn’t
after reading all ur mark fics i need more 😩😩 how about bsf mark and reader and reader teasing mark till he loses control 🤭🤭
BAD TASTE — MARK LEE (마크이) (DRABBLE)
✧ MDNI (18+)
you had known mark lee for as long as you could remember, ever since his family moved to korea when you were both just kids. your mothers, best friends in their youth, had practically sealed your fates as companions the moment they introduced you to each other. and from the beginning, mark was different. a bit softer than the other boys, a bit louder, and always with that boundless energy that no one could ever match. but the neighborhood kids didn’t seem to care about any of that.
mark, with his wide smile and hopeful eyes, had no one to play with. his big, round eyes would search the playground for someone, anyone, to run to, but no one was ever waiting for him. they teased him for being different—his canadian accent, his constant need for attention. it wasn’t fair, but kids rarely are. you were the one who stood up for him, the one who made sure that mark wasn’t left standing alone by the swings with that forlorn expression he tried so hard to hide.
“come on, i’ll race you,” you’d say, grabbing his wrist as you tugged him toward the street, the sound of your laughter echoing down the block. it was always like that—the two of you, running off to the convenience store to buy the cheapest ice cream you could find. sticky hands, melting ice cream dripping down your fingers as you sat together on the curb, legs crossed, talking about nothing and everything. mark would look over at you with wide eyes, licking the ice cream off his hand, and you would smile back, never thinking much of it. at the time, none of it held any deeper meaning. you were kids, after all.
he was terrible at riding his bike, too. the image of him wobbly and flailing his arms every time he lost balance was etched into your memory. mark would cry over the smallest bruise, always a bit dramatic about his scrapes and cuts. “i can’t do it!” he would say, tears brimming in his eyes, the bike tossed to the ground in frustration.
but you, with your quiet patience, would stand behind him, hands gripping his waist, steadying him. “you’ve got this, mark. i won’t let go.” the promise was always there, in every word you spoke, in every gesture. you kept your arms around him, supporting him until, one day, he managed to pedal on his own. and when he did, the look of triumph on his face was unforgettable. he rode off, legs kicking at the pedals, laughing so freely, and you watched, content, never once imagining that such simple moments would later carry a weight you couldn’t ignore.
as you both grew older, those touches—the casual brushes of his hand against yours, the way he’d playfully bump your shoulder as you walked together—still held little meaning. he was mark, your childhood friend, the boy who had once cried over bruises but had grown confident, taller, and magnetic. in high school, something shifted. he had this pull, this charm, that made everyone gravitate toward him, especially the girls. and you? you found yourself drawn to him, too, in ways you hadn’t expected.
you wrote a note, one that held the words you couldn’t say aloud. a confession. but you weren’t sure, not completely. so, you asked a friend for advice, showed him the note, and after a glance, he nodded, giving you the green light. you felt ready, heart pounding, rehearsing the moment over and over in your head. but you never got the chance. that day, he had introduced you to his girlfriend. not just you—his mom, too. your heart had cracked, though you smiled through it, feeling the sting of the moment settle deep. it was a cruel irony, one that only encouraged you to push your feelings aside. you told yourself you didn’t need to confess. what mattered was your friendship, and you would make sure to preserve it. you threw yourself into that, becoming the best version of a friend that you could be.
still, you couldn’t help but plan a small surprise for him one night—a bag of the same cheap ice cream you used to share as kids, from the same convenience store that had witnessed your countless memories. but fate had another cruel twist. you saw him before you reached his door, sitting in his car with his girlfriend, their lips locked in an embrace you couldn’t unsee. he had pulled away when he noticed you, guilt etched in his features, but you just rolled your eyes and forced a smile. you went home that night, shared the ice cream with your family instead, and let that be your breaking point—the last time you would ever cry over him.
their relationship didn’t last long, only a year. when it ended, you asked him why they had broken up, fully expecting him to be heartbroken. but he wasn’t. he shrugged casually, a hint of nonchalance in his voice. “wasn’t working out.” you rolled your eyes at his indifference, clapping his shoulder in that familiar, comforting way. “we’ll drink tonight. you’ll get over her in no time.’
he smiled, nodded, and agreed. he was always up for spending time with you. What he didn’t admit—what neither of you admitted—was that his breakup had little to do with his ex. he had left her because, deep down, he was in love with you. but that confession was never spoken, never even hinted at as the years flew by. your friendship remained steady and inseparable, but so did the tension that lingered beneath the surface, like a secret you were both too afraid to unravel.
the heat of the living room clung to you, suffocating and unbearable, even as the ac hummed weakly in the background, doing little to cool the thick, humid air. you could feel it—the weight of the night pressing down on your skin, sticky and relentless, as if the entire room had absorbed the summer’s swelter and refused to let it go. the couch beneath you was warm, uncomfortable, and every shift in position seemed to generate more heat than relief. you flapped the hem of your shirt, trying to fan yourself, but it was pointless—nothing seemed to work. your skin felt flushed, burning from the inside out, as the alcohol from earlier settled uncomfortably in your stomach.
the television blared obnoxiously, some mindless show that had long since lost your interest, the volume dial turned up too high, each laugh track grating against your already frayed nerves. you groaned, eyes closed, trying to tune it out, but it only pissed you off more, the cacophony of sound wrapping around you like a vice. you could’ve sworn it was getting louder by the second, making the room feel even smaller, more unbearable.
then came the familiar buzz. the vibration of your phone on the coffee table, insistent and unrelenting, had been gnawing at the edges of your consciousness for over an hour. It hadn’t stopped—not once. at first, you had ignored it, trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t worth the energy. you already knew who it was. but curiosity eventually got the better of you, pulling you out of your fog of frustration.
with a low groan, you reached for your phone, flipping it over in your hand, the screen lighting up and casting a dim glow against your face. your eyes squinted at the notifications—yuta’s name unmistakable, flashing in bold text, his messages pouring in from not just one, but three different accounts. desperation oozed from every word, the text practically vibrating with his frantic energy. “it wasn’t what it looked like, baby, please.” “it was a mistake, don’t you know i love you?” “answer the phone, i’ll go crazy if you don’t.”
you exhaled sharply, scrolling through the seemingly endless string of messages, each one a variation of the same hollow plea. you’d read enough. it was as though you could feel the weight of each message, but none of it stirred anything in you except tired indifference. the lies were all too familiar, and you nearly felt yourself drifting off just trying to read through the recycled excuses—the same old, tired script that men like yuta always seemed to follow. you and him hadn’t even been dating that long—four months, maybe? barely enough time for him to matter. and yet here he was, acting as if the world would end without your forgiveness.
you stared blankly at the screen, thumb hovering over the ‘block’ button, but paused. not yet. not out of mercy, but simply because you couldn’t be bothered to deal with it right now. you tossed the phone back onto the table, letting it vibrate against the wood as you leaned back into the couch, the heat pressing down on you once again. johnny’s words rang in your head, an echo of a conversation you had months ago when this whole thing with yuta had started. he had practically pushed you into the relationship, convinced that it would be good for you.
“it’s for your own good,” he had told you, leaning back in his chair with that ever-knowing grin. you had rolled your eyes at the time, half-annoyed at his persistence. “you’re totally pimping me out right now,” you’d teased, feigning a dramatic hurt.
“you need a distraction. you need to get over mark, dude,” he had countered, his voice more serious than usual. he had your best interest at heart, you knew that much. he always did. but you weren’t convinced. “i’ve been over mark for a while, dude,” you had mimicked his tone, throwing the words back at him, though neither of you really believed it. johnny had given you that look—the one that said he knew better, even if you wouldn’t admit it.
of course, johnny was right. you hadn’t been over mark. not then, not now. but you had agreed to the date with yuta anyway, more out of exhaustion than excitement. he had seemed nice enough at the time, a distraction, if nothing else. you let the relationship run its course, despite your lack of real enthusiasm. it hadn’t stopped you from thinking about mark, but it had kept you busy enough to ignore it. mark, of course, had been the first to pester you about yuta. he didn’t even try to hide his disdain.
“he just doesn’t seem like your type,” mark had said one night, the bitterness barely masked by a joking tone as you all sat around having drinks. it was subtle, but you knew him well enough to see through the act. he didn’t like yuta—never had. before you could respond, yuta had shot back, his own dislike for mark just as transparent. “like you know what her type is,” he had argued, a smirk playing at his lips.
mark’s patience had snapped then, a sharpness in his voice you rarely heard. “i’ve known her my whole life. you’ve known her for, like, five days.” you had frowned at the time, guilt gnawing at the edges of your mind. you hadn’t meant to put mark in this position, hadn’t meant to make him out to be a jealous boyfriend. he was just being a good friend. that’s what you told yourself. he’s such a good friend, you thought, over and over, trying to convince yourself. maybe you were just tone-deaf, unable—or unwilling—to recognize what was really going on beneath the surface.
tonight, though, you had finally told mark the truth. you had caught yuta cheating—found him in a situation you couldn’t ignore. the betrayal stung, sure, but not in the way it might have if you had really cared about him. still, you had sent mark a message, telling him everything, expecting him to respond. but hours had passed, and there was nothing. no reply. he had seen the message, that much you knew, but his silence echoed louder than the buzzing of your phone.
“asshole,” you muttered to yourself, though you weren’t entirely sure if the insult was meant for yuta or for mark. your thoughts were hazy, a tangled mess of frustration, heat, and exhaustion. it didn’t matter. the weight of the night pressed on your chest, making it harder to think clearly. you were too damn hot, too tired, and too angry to care anymore.
with a sigh, you reached for the bottle, pouring beer over the remaining soju in your cup. the alcohol fizzed and swirled together, and you took another long sip, telling yourself it was just a little more. but after a few more cups, you’d lost track of how much you’d had. each drink added to the furnace inside you, the heat rising until it felt like you were being boiled alive from the inside out. your skin burned, sticky with sweat, and your body slumped deeper into the couch, the cushion swallowing your discomfort as you groaned into the thick, suffocating air.
after downing your fourth cup, you gave up. the frustration of it all—the heat, the noise, the incessant buzzing of your phone—was unbearable. you tugged your shirt over your head in one swift motion, tossing it aside carelessly. the relief was immediate, a cool sigh escaping your lips as the air touched your bare skin, soft and refreshing against your chest and stomach. finally, you could breathe again.
your eyes lazily drifted toward the television, where the characters of the drama you’d been half-watching continued their melodrama. you squinted, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. childhood lovers, you thought silently as the drama played. it had been seven episodes of this nonsense, and still, bae seokryu hadn’t made a single smart decision. she’d ignored choi seunghyo’s confession, even though it was clear she felt the same way. it was infuriating. why was she still focused on that idiot ex of hers, hyeonjun? even after he cheated on her, she was running back to him like nothing happened.
“what a dumbass,” you muttered under your breath, watching as seokryu entered a restaurant with hyeonjun, leaving seunghyo to wallow in his unrequited love. her best friend is head over heels for her, and she’s this stupid? you thought to yourself. it didn’t make sense. seokryu should’ve stuck around to give seunghyo a chance, even after he broke up with taehui. but no. she was caught up in a ridiculous cycle of bad decisions, and for some reason, you couldn’t stop watching.
your irritation simmered, and you absentmindedly reached for a cigarette, bringing it to your lips. the flick of your lighter sounded like a small victory in the otherwise unbearable night. as the tip ignited and the smoke curled around your face, you took a long drag, savoring the brief distraction. the fogginess in your head felt a little more bearable with each inhale, even as the ringing of the doorbell cut through the haze.
at first, you barely registered it. the ringing was distant, muffled, as if it were happening in another world, far away from the sweltering heat of your living room. you exhaled, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling, and ignored it. but the doorbell persisted, ringing again and again, growing more insistent with each moment you delayed. with a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch, the annoyance already clear in your expression. whoever it was, they were about to get a piece of your mind. you half-feared it was yuta, come to beg for your forgiveness in person, thinking he could somehow charm his way back into your good graces. i could totally kick his ass, you thought, half-sober and full of misplaced confidence. your footsteps were heavy as you approached the door, hands fumbling with the lock as you prepared yourself for a confrontation.
but when the door finally swung open, your breath caught in your throat. it wasn’t yuta. mark stood there, panting, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon. his skin was flushed, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, and his hair clung damply to his face. he looked wild, frantic, like he had raced through the night to get to you, his eyes wide with something you couldn’t quite place.
“took you long enough, loser,” you scoffed, leaning lazily against the doorframe. you took a slow drag from your cigarette, letting the smoke swirl around you before exhaling with an air of indifference. the coolness in your tone barely masked the simmering irritation beneath the surface, but you couldn’t help the hint of amusement that crept into your voice.
mark stood there, still panting, his breath catching awkwardly in his throat as his eyes darted up and down your form. he struggled to regain control of himself, but as his gaze swept over you, it was clear he had already lost the battle. your hair was tousled in the most effortlessly perfect way, the kind of messy that looked intentional, like you had just rolled out of bed with the weight of the world hanging loosely off your shoulders. the mascara you’d smudged hours ago only added to the ethereal haze that clung to you, darkening your eyes in a way that was both soft and dangerous. and your lips—wrapped around the cigarette filter—were plush, slightly swollen from too much biting. god, did he wish he could turn back time.
but it wasn’t just your face that had him flustered. you stood there in nothing but a bra and low-rise jeans, the sweltering heat having driven you to shed your shirt long before his arrival. his gaze betrayed him, flickering across your chest, taking in the way your bra clung to your skin, damp with sweat, the fabric looking too tight, threatening to give way at any second. the mounds of flesh pressed against the cups, straining at the edges, while the curve of your waist slid downward to meet the waistband of your jeans. the denim barely rested above your panties, but the hem was visible, teasing the line of skin that disappeared beneath the fabric.
he cursed himself silently, hating the way his body reacted to you, to this moment that wasn’t supposed to feel so charger. it was different now, and he didn’t know why. “i—” mark stammered, his words faltering as his throat seemed to dry up. his hands twitched at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as if trying to force the words out. “i came as fast as i—” he stopped himself, rubbing his face in a desperate attempt to collect his thoughts. his eyes darted back to you, panic mingling with something else he refused to name. “jesus christ, put a shirt on. you’re so cheap.”
there it was, the weak joke he always used to diffuse tension. his voice came out half-joking, half-choked with something he wasn’t ready to admit, and as he dragged his palm over his face again, you could see the nervous energy in him, the way he tried to play it cool. you rolled your eyes, annoyed. “what a dick,” you muttered under your breath, the sound too low for him to hear, but the sentiment was loud and clear in your head. he’s no choi seunghyo, that’s for sure, you thought. “you’re such a little virgin,” you groaned in mock frustration, flicking the ash from your cigarette onto the ground. the insult rolled off your tongue easily, almost affectionate in the way it echoed years of knowing him. “we’ve taken baths together, dude. don’t make it weird.”
mark’s eyes widened slightly, stunned by the casual way you reminded him of that. baths—those innocent days when the world seemed so simple, when nothing about being close to you felt dangerous. but this? this was something else entirely. something that made the air between you feel thick, and it wasn’t just the heat of the summer night.
you turned on your heel, leaving the door open behind you as you walked back into the house, cigarette dangling lazily between your fingers. the weight of your words hung in the air, heavy and lingering, and mark stood frozen for a moment, caught between following you inside and grappling with the way everything suddenly felt different. you had shared so much before either of you even knew how to speak—but this? this was new. he wasn’t trying to make it weird, not consciously, but his body was betraying him with every stolen glance, every uneven breath. and for once, he couldn’t hide it.
mark stepped in hesitantly, trying to shake off the tension that clung to him like a second skin. he took in the living room, dimly lit, the remnants of a lazy afternoon sprawled across the space—empty bottles on the table, clothes strewn across the floor. a typical mess that felt like home. “i’ve got a hunch you’ll be an alcoholic in your forties,” he started, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to find humor in the simmering heat between you both. “you’ll die with the company of red wine and twelve cats.”
you scoffed, settling back into the couch as you stubbed out your cigarette filter, the smirk on your face not fully hiding the playful annoyance in your voice. “dying with you nowhere in sight?” you mused. “sounds like a dream come true.” he could only respond with a half-hearted middle finger as he plopped down next to you. His body was tense, awkward, like he didn’t quite know how to sit in his own skin around you. your legs were folded beside him, your bare feet poking at his sides, testing him as he shifted nervously, eyes darting to the screen.
“dude, seunghyo’s such a dumbass,” he groaned, his focus pinned to the show. “i can’t believe it took him so long to confess. it was so obvious seokryu was into him.” you straightened yourself slightly, feeling the alcohol sway through your limbs, rocking you with a soft, fuzzy warmth. “i know, right?” you agreed, leaning forward as if the conversation might ease the strange pull between you both. “seokryu’s just as bad. she should’ve said something a while ago.”
as you spoke, your voice trailed off, and your eyes met his—just a beat too long. the moment stretched, dizzying, like the alcohol had gone straight to your head. you felt the weight of his gaze, the way it lingered on you in a way it never had before, and it made your heart flutter in your chest, made the air between you feel thick and heavy. you broke eye contact with a cough, a sudden need to escape, to move. “you want something to drink?” you asked, voice tight, needing the break in tension more than you cared to admit.
mark laughed nervously, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, betraying the nervous energy that was seeping into the room. “yeah, a beer will be fine.” you nodded quickly, eager to retreat to the kitchen. your hands were shaky as you grabbed the bottles, mind racing, replaying the look in his eyes. what was that? that flicker you saw—was it real? had you imagined it, or was it something more? your heart pounded in your chest, breath hitching as you leaned against the counter. you could blame it on the alcohol later, but part of you wanted to explore it now, just for a moment.
as you grabbed the beers and turned to head back, mark sat back on the couch, his eyes flickering to your phone on the table. the screen buzzed insistently, and curiosity got the best of him. without thinking, he reached for it, flipping it over to see a stream of messages from yuta, the name glaring back at him like a taunt. his jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the phone as more texts kept rolling in. “son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, blood boiling in his veins. his grip tightened until he heard your footsteps nearing, and he quickly set the phone back down, trying to act casual.
“who’d he cheat with?” he asked suddenly, the question spilling out before he could stop himself. his voice was sharp, edged with something darker than curiosity. “is she prettier than you?” you rolled your eyes, leaning over to place the bottle in front of him, the motion slow, deliberate. he noticed, no matter how hard he tried to look away, the sway of your hips, the way your breasts bounced with each step. it was almost like you were doing it on purpose, teasing him without even knowing it. or maybe you did know. maybe the alcohol was making you bold, making you play with fire.
no, mark thought, shaking his head slightly. she’s just tipsy. come on, dude. but then you leaned closer, and his breath caught in his throat. the way your bra clung to you, the fabric barely holding back your chest as you bent over—it was too much. your nipples were stiff, peeking out from the confines of the too-tight bra, and he couldn’t help but stare, his body betraying him. you noticed, of course you did. you bit back a smile, amusement dancing in your eyes as you sat back down beside him, the tension between you electric now. “yeah, she’s really hot. you’d like her,” you teased, taking a long sip from your own bottle, watching him squirm.
mark was halfway through his own beer before he could even think, trying to drown whatever the hell he was feeling. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his voice barely a whisper when he said, “i don’t think so.” you offered him a small, knowing smile, the kind that made his stomach flip, and then you kicked your legs over his knees, your feet resting in his lap. his whole body jolted, tensing under the weight of your touch. “you want a cig?” you asked, your voice soft, almost too casual. you’d never seen him nod faster.
your fingers moved deftly as you pulled out the cigarette, holding it between your thumb and forefinger, dangling it just inches from his reach. mark’s eyes flicked to yours, eager but wary, his smile faltering as you suddenly pulled it back.
“I have a trick,” you murmured, voice dropping to a hushed tone that made his breath hitch. you held the cigarette up between you both, your eyes locked onto his, glinting with mischief. “it’ll make it last longer.” it was the way you said it, the sudden dip in your voice that caught him off guard, made his heart pound a little harder in his chest. but what really did it was the trick. he watched, eyes widening as your tongue slid out, wetting the edge of the cigarette paper in slow, deliberate strokes. the tip of the paper darkened under your touch, the moisture staining it just enough.
was this some kind of joke? mark’s mind raced, trying to catch up with what was happening. did you pick this up off wikipedia, or were you just tormenting him on purpose? but it wasn’t just the act—it was the way you did it. your gaze was half-lidded, dark and sultry, never leaving his. you made sure he felt every second of it, the tension so thick he could barely breathe. your tongue traced the paper one last time before retreating back between your lips, leaving him frozen in place. and that was it. that was when he snapped.
the cigarette slipped from your fingers, falling to the floor, forgotten the moment he surged forward. his hands were on you before you could even react, rough, determined. his fingers wrapped around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he hovered over you, his knees pressing into your thighs, caging you in. your heart raced, breath shallow, your chest heaving as you stared up at him in shock. this wasn’t how you imagined it—no, it was better, wilder, more intense than you’d ever dared to dream.
“mark,” you managed to choke out, but he cut you off. “what are you doing?” he growled, his voice sharp, rough, almost angry as his eyes bore into yours. there was something dangerous in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite place, but it sent shivers down your spine. for a second, you thought he might be furious with you, and maybe part of him was. but then you felt it—the hardness pressing into your thigh, the undeniable evidence of his desire that made your eyes widen. he wasn’t angry. he was desperate.
“you walk around half-naked, tits out like a slut,” he spat, the venom in his words making your breath hitch, your pulse quicken. “did you do it on purpose? did you do it for me?” his voice was low, dangerous, each word laced with frustration and lust. your mind spun, the weight of his accusation making your stomach drop. “no, did you do it for yuta?”
the name made your skin crawl. yuta? the thought of doing anything like this for him was sickening. of course it wasn’t for him—it was always for mark. who else would it be for? “you,” you rasped out, your voice barely above a whisper. “for you.” the tension in mark’s body snapped. his hips jerked forward, pressing his bulge harder against your thigh, and he bit back a gasp, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. that was what he had been waiting for, what he needed to hear.
without another word, his lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce, all-consuming. you gasped against his mouth, but any protest you might have had was lost as his hands moved, roaming your body. his kiss was hungry, desperate, as though he’d been waiting forever for this moment, and finally, it was his. you kissed him back, just as eager, just as desperate, tasting the beer and cigarettes on his lips, mingled with something distinctly him. the sensation made your head spin, and you clung to him, your body arching into his, needing more.
his hands were everywhere at once, rough palms grazing over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. he grabbed at your bra, fingers tugging at the fabric impatiently, as though he couldn’t bear another second without feeling you. “fuck,” he muttered against your lips, pulling back just long enough to tear your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without a care. his hands moved immediately to your chest, cupping your tits through your bra, fingers squeezing greedily as he leaned back in, capturing your lips once more.
you moaned into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his mouth as his fingers worked, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. It only took a moment before he had it undone, your boobs spilling free into his waiting hands. “god, you’re too fucking much,” he groaned, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes roaming over your bare chest with unabashed hunger.
your skin flushed under his gaze, heat pooling between your legs as you watched him take you in. his eyes were wild, dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged pants as his hands continued their exploration. he pinched your nipples between his fingers, rolling them until you gasped, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through your body. “mark, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaky, your body trembling with need. he didn’t hesitate. his hands moved to your jeans, yanking them down your legs in one swift motion, the fabric pooling around your ankles as he knelt between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. you could feel his breath on your skin, hot and heavy, as he stared down at you, his hands spreading your thighs apart and gaze dropping to your sticky panties.
“all this for me?” he asked, his voice gruff, the question almost a demand. you bit your lip, nodding, unable to find the words to answer. you felt his hands at the band of your underwear, hooking his thumbs under the fabric, and then—oh god—his mouth was on you, tongue swiping through your folds, lapping up your arousal like a man starved.
you moaned, arching off the couch, your hips bucking against his face. his mouth was hot, his tongue rough, and you could feel his stubble grazing your sensitive skin in a way that had you arching into his mouth, adding to the sensation. he devoured you, his mouth working in a way that made your toes curl and your back bow. you’d never felt anything like this before—the raw, animalistic hunger of it all. it was like he couldn’t get enough, like he’d been waiting for this moment for years, and now that he had it, he was going to make it count.
his tongue found your clit, flicking and sucking with a skill that had you seeing stars. your nails dug into his scalp, your hips rolling to meet every stroke, begging for more. the room spun around you, the only anchor his mouth, his hands, the way he held you in place as he feasted on you. you could feel it building, that sweet pressure in your core, the tightness that signaled the start of something incredible.
his teeth grazed your clit, the bite of pain mixing with pleasure, sending you spiraling. “mark, i’m gonna cum,” you panted, your voice high and breathless. he growled against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body, his tongue pressing harder, pushing you closer to the edge. and then, with a final, frenzied flick, you were over the edge, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
you collapsed back onto the couch, breathless, your chest heaving as he pulled away, a smug smile playing on his lips. your eyes fluttered open to meet his, dark with satisfaction, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between you shattering into a million pieces. “you’re such an asshole,” you whispered, though you couldn’t keep the fondness out of your voice. his smile grew, turning sweet, and he leaned back in, kissing you softly. “but you like it,” he murmured, his hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach. you couldn’t argue with that. you liked it. you liked it a lot. but there was still that nagging doubt in the back of your mind—what now? what did this mean for the two of you?
he stood, his eyes never leaving yours as he undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and shoved them down. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you felt your mouth go dry at the sight of it. you’d seen him naked before, of course, in passing, in the locker room after gym class, but never like this. never with the intention of having him inside you.
he stepped closer, his hand guiding his dick to your dripping pussy. “you’re soaked, shit,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. and you were. so wet, so ready. he pushed into you, inch by slow inch, the stretch delicious and almost painful. you gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist, holding him close. he felt so big, so much bigger than anyone you’d ever been with. you could feel him in your stomach, filling you up in a way that made you feel complete.
his hands slid up your body, gripping your thighs tightly as he began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. the couch groaned under your combined weight, the sound echoing through the room, mixing with your gasps and his grunts. his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. your eyes rolled back in your head, your body moving in time with his, the friction building, your core tightening around him. his mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of fire as he sucked and bit. your nails scored down his back, leaving marks as his stubble pricked at your neck in a way that had you dripping.
his hands roamed, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, making you squirm and whine. the sensation was almost too much, but you didn’t want it to stop. you could feel him getting closer, his movements growing more erratic, his breaths coming in harsh pants. “i’m gonna cum, baby,” he groaned, his voice strained. “i’m gonna ruin your pussy.” and you were so close, so fucking close. you wrapped your legs around him tighter, urging him on, your body begging for release.
suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you gasping, your pussy pulsing around the emptiness. before you could protest, he spun you around, pushing you face down into the couch cushions. his hand smacked your ass, the sound echoing through the room, making you jump. “keep up with me, i have an idea,” you weren’t too sure of what he meant, you were too lost, desperate to have him back inaide of you. you felt him move around, his rock hard tip pressing against your ass as he retrieved your phone from the table. you didn’t register it until he leaned forward, his cock grazing your cunt once more as he gestured to your phone in his hand. you tried to make out what he was doing, turning your head to see him scrolling with a scoff. “what a fucking pussy,” he wasn’t talking about you, he was talking about yuta.
you didn’t get a chance to speak, to protest, he had slid upwards, kickstarting the voice recording and planting your phone beside your ear. your eyes widened at the realization—he was sick, he was twisted for wanting yuta to hear what he was doing to you, just hours after your break-up. you were sick for wanting it even more.
his cock slammed into your pussy again, and you moaned, the sound captured by the phone’s microphone. “is this all for me, baby?” he grunted, his hips slamming into yours as he pulled at your hips to meet his thrusts, the couch squeaking beneath you. you couldn’t help but bite your lip, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overwhelmed you. the thought of yuta listening to this was fucked up, but it only made you wetter, made you want to scream louder. his strokes grew faster, more erratic, and you felt his hand snake around your waist, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with precision. “tell him how much you love this, tell him how much better i am than he ever was,” he panted, accentuating each word with a thrust.
you whimpered, the heat of his breath against your neck making you shiver. “mark, oh my god, it’s so good,” you moaned, the words spilling from your lips, the truth in your voice unmistakable. “better than yuta?” he prompted, his voice a dark whisper. “yes, so much better,” you gasped, the truth slipping out, lost in the haze of pleasure. his hand tightened on your hip, his strokes becoming more demanding. “that’s right,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “tell him who this pussy belongs to.”
you felt your face flush, the his words turning you on more than you cared to admit. “it’s yours, mark,” you whispered, the words barely audible. “say it louder, baby. tell him who you really want.” he smacked your ass again, the sting mixing with the pleasure, making you squirm. “it’s yours, mark, all fucking yours,” you cried out, the sound echoing in the quiet room. his grip tightened, his thrusts becoming more punishing, each one sending you spiraling closer to the edge. his hand moved from your hip to your mouth, his thumb pressing against your lips, and you opened, letting him slide it in.
his thumb moved in and out, mimicking the motion of his cock, the taste of your own juices mixing with the salty tang of his skin. “tell him how much you want my cum in you, baby. tell him how much you need it,” he demanded, his voice harsh, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. you felt your stomach clench at the thought, but the words tumbled out, unbidden. “i want it, i need it,” you moaned, your voice thick with desire. “send it to him,” you breathed, the thrill of the idea making you wetter. mark’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he reached for your phone, pausing before sending the message with a smug smirk.
the room was spinning, the pleasure building, your body tightening around him like a vice. he leaned in closer, his hand moving to your clit, rubbing it in firm circles as he whispered, “cum for me, baby. let me hear how much you love it.” and with that, you were gone, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, your pussy spasming around his thick cock. he groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, and you felt the warmth of his cum fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge once more.
you collapsed onto the couch, your body boneless, as he pulled out, the sound of his seed dripping onto the floor making you shiver. your cheeks were flushed, your pussy sore and sticky, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. mark stood, looking down at you with a smug look, his cock still hard, glistening with your juices. “that’s what happens when you don’t get what you want, isn’t it?” he said, his voice still thick with lust. “you go running to the first person that shows you some attention.”
his words stung, but you didn’t have the energy to argue. you reached for your phone, the screen lighting up with yuta’s panicked texts. the audio message had gone through, and his responses were no less than mortified. “you really think i did this just to use you?” you asked quietly as you set your phone down, your heart sinking at the thought of him thinking so little of you, of himself.
mark’s expression softened, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “i didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice tender. “i just—i’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, i wanted to make sure he knew—knows—what he’s missing out on.” his thumb traced your cheekbone, his eyes searching yours. “and what about us?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “are we just gonna ignore this?”
you took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling heavily on your chest. the silence between you was deafening, the only sound the faint buzz of the television and the distant hum of the barely functioning air conditioner. you didn’t know what to say, but you knew exactly what was in your heart. “i’ve liked you for too long, you asshole,” you whispered, trying to mask the tension with all your might.
mark’s hand stilled on your face, his eyes searching yours in the reflection of the television. “you idiot,” he murmured, his voice soft with unspoken emotion waiting to pour out. “i’ve liked you even longer, i can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
his confession was like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your heart. “i didn’t think you felt the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. the weight of your feelings had been heavy on your shoulders for years, and finally, they were out in the open.
he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes closing briefly. “i’ve liked you since we were kids, but i didn’t know how to tell you without ruining our friendship,” he confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t want to lose you, so i just hoped you’d eventually figure it out. but then you started dating yuta—” his voice trailed off, his jaw tightening at the mention of your his name.
you nodded, fully aware of the pain behind his words, the same pain he had kept hidden from you for so long. you’d been so caught up in the drama of it all, you hadn’t noticed the subtle ways he’d tried to show you how he felt. the way his eyes lit up when you walked into a room, the gentle touches that lingered just a little too long, the way he’d always been there for you, no matter what. “i really like you, mark,” his grin was unmistakeable, his eyes crinkling in such a soft manner, as if he hadn’t just fucked you. “i really like you, too.” it was everything you had dreamed of, finally coming true.
✧
a/n: this took longer to write than anticipated sorry omg
he could fix me
When Mark and Taeyong don’t have any recent Chinese ancestry and can’t promote with NCT China:
SM:
Chinese Members:
➳ [9:21 PM]
You connected to Mark's speaker in the living room and played music while he was busy doing an Instagram live for his followers - actually, you didn't have any idea what he was doing but it was about his work.
This song was one of your favorites and in just a few seconds, you were so into the song that you were singing and dancing in the living room without a care in the world.
In the middle of the song, you felt hands wrapped around your waist, hugging you from the back. You stopped.
“Continue,” Mark whispers.
And it’s so simple and free how we dance to the music so naturally. Can we stay here forever just you and I? ~
You continued to swing and sing to the music with Mark hugging you from the back.
Oh you make my heart ache, cause you are mine.~
He hugged you tighter hearing that.
➳ Countdown // Mark Lee (Teaser)
Summary: Before everything goes chaotic for your public announcement as CEO to the rising multi-million dollar tech company, you took the chance to travel alone to South Korea for a month, exactly thirty days, and do things you don't usually do (finding some one-night stands for example) in the sea of people who don't know you.
And there you meet Mark, who thinks, or more like assumed, you're there for good and doesn't have a clue you're leaving in 30 days. Strangers turned into friends with benefits seems like a lucky turn for you rather than jumping around with people you don't know every night.
There is another reason why you're alone and having the time of your life in Korea however, it's nobody's concern right now, or is it?
pairing: mark lee!idol x reader!ceo
genre & warnings: strangers to fwb!au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn (ish)
word count: around 5k+ (I am at 3k+ but not even halfway so no promises
a/n: This is not my first time writing fanfic but this is my first time in years? I've posted an excerpt of this story over the weekend through a timestamp post.
taglist: @queenrachelpink @chardonnayyyy @riqomi @aedreamzy
you can send me an ask if you would like to be added to the taglist
LEE MARK FIC REC LIST
s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted
give all these authors so much love please!!!! i had to include as much as possible!! supa long fic rec list ;) recommendation masterlist here
this is (not) easy *personal fav [ friends with benefits!mark x fem! reader ] s,f,a
sweet cream, cold brew [ nerd barista!mark x fem!reader ] s,f
raw. [ established relationship ] s
delphinium , part two [ virgin religious!mark x pagan reader ] s,f
the marriage and baby project [ fake dating au, roommate au ] s,f,a
sunday kind of love [ frat!mark x inexperienced/soft fem!reader ] s,f
flipside [ street racing au, strangers to lovers au ]
cherry flavored thoughts [ perv nerd!mark x popular fem!reader ] s
gorgeous [ college/football au ] s,f
follow through. [ bestfriends to lovers ft. haechan ] s
eyes on you. [ roommate's brother!mark x fem!reader ] s
watch me [ barista!mark x fem!reader, voyeurism ] s
pretty boy [ shy!mark x openminded/playful fem!reader ] s
surviving no nut november [ mark x fem! reader ft. haechan ] s
safety zone [ university au, best friends to lovers, roommates au ] f,a, suggestive
spider boy; 이민형 [ spiderman!mark x fem!reader, established relationship ] f, suggestive
closed doors. [brother's friend!mark x fem!reader, roommate au ] s
jealousy [ almost step-siblings au ] s,a
deal with it [ established relationship, argument au ] s
real talk [ line chef!mark x fuckgirl!reader ] s,f
on edge [ boyfriend's brother!mark x fem!reader, infedelity au ] s
play with me [ bestfriend!mark x fem! reader, car sex ] s,f
give me the greenlight [ street racing au, childhood friends to lovers ] s,f,a
nervously in love [ established relationship ] s,f
across the room *self promo hehe [ idol!mark x idol fem!reader ] s
roomie high [ stoner roommate!mark x fem!reader ] s
suck my kiss [mark x bandmate fem!reader ] s,f
may i be blunt? [stoner!mark x fem!reader ] s
the best man. [ stranger!mark x fem!reader, wedding au ] s
elevator pitch [ frat boy!mark x fem!reader ] f,a
craving you like the devil craves heaven [ priest!mark x succubus!reader ] s
kiss u right now [ best friend!mark x fem!reader ] s,f
this is new [ loss of virginity au ] s,f
rule breaker [ rockstar au, band au ] s
limit. [ gryffindor!mark x fem!reader ] s
mixtape moans. [ shy!mark x cheerleader!reader ] s
make me sin [ churchboy!mark x fem!reader, childhood friends au ] s,f,a
mark me in your heart [ drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader ] s,a
monetary value. [ rich kid!mark x rich kid!reader ] s,f,a
Housemates (Mark)
Before I share another serious post, I’m introducing this short series of NCT members (particularly my biases) as Essie’s housemates. Like most of my writing, this is going to be fluffy and hilarious if you believe it to be.
Fun fact is, Mark’s the first NCT member I wrote a story about. Should I post that here? Let me know! After all, I liked him in Super M first. Not that I don’t love the group anymore, but I am more in love with NCT than any other group now.
Without further ado, please enjoy this feel-good piece and this adorable GIF of him!
Mahal ko kayong lahat! :)
–––
Summary: I was inspired to write this because of this Instagram post. Most of the scenes here, and for the rest that will follow, are based on these scenarios.
POV: 2nd person since this was written last year.
Word count: 1,700 + words
Warning: Aside from the fluff, maybe there’s a teeny bit of angst with Johnny not relating to them. That’s about it!
–––
Since you moved in with Johnny and Mark, your life has never been more exciting. Sure, living with Nini was nice and all, but there were more challenges living with two guys.
First, Mark was a messy guy in comparison to Johnny. The younger guy’s clothing can be seen everywhere in the house – a hoodie on a dining seat, a pair of shorts on the couch, and a t-shirt on top of the shower curtain.
However, it bothered you when he left his pants in your bedroom. “Mark Lee,” you started, “why did your pants end up here in my bedroom?” You held the pair of khakis in your hands and looked at it with disdain.
He gave you a sheepish grin before grabbing it from your hands. “I’m sorry, Essie noona, I thought this was my bedroom when I came here late at night yesterday. I was kind of drunk, so…”
You remembered that you slept over at Ten’s when you had to ask him for help on a project. Johnny was out of town, and Mark was the only one left in the apartment. You didn’t know that he ended up in your bed when you were out, and it made you blush.
“Make sure this doesn’t happen again, okay?” You softened your voice this time, and he nodded in response.
“I’m really sorry about this. How can I make it up to you?” Mark looked at you with puppy eyes and all your irritation on what he did vanish.
“Well, I suppose you can let me choose the movie we’re going to watch later tonight,” you said after carefully thinking of your answer.
“Sure, no problem! Would you like some coffee as well? My treat,” he flashed you a smile as he hung his pants over his shoulder.
“Johnny gets that for me usually, but since he’s not here, why not? You already know my order, right?”
“White Chocolate Mocha with low-fat milk and no whip.”
“That’s a good boy. Now,” you looked at him sternly again, “leave my room before I kick your butt!”
\\\
In the end, you decided to watch ‘A Serbian Film’. You were up for a horrible mindfuck, and Mark was hesitant on your pick.
“I mean, it’s okay if we watch a silly rom-com. I won’t mind at all,” He offered, scrolling through his Netflix account for a feel-good movie to watch.
“But aren’t you curious why it has a cult following, and why it’s banned?” You asked, eyes sparkling in excitement.
“Essie, don’t corrupt poor baby Mark,” Johnny chimed in, grabbing the DVD of the said film from your hands. He had just arrived from his trip and still had the energy to join you guys.
“What do you suggest we watch then?” You pouted, trying to get the DVD Johnny confiscated.
“How about ‘Benji’?” Mark’s suggestion got the taller guy squealing. “Oh my, let’s watch that! I haven’t watched a dog movie in ages!”
You noticed that Mark was laughing at his hyung’s reaction, which made you smile. His joy was contagious and later, you were laughing along. Johnny couldn’t stop gushing about dogs that eventually, you had to shut him up when Mark has already set up the television.
\\\
There were times Johnny can’t relate to you and Mark. For instance, both of you were almost in tears because of an inside joke only you and he have.
The three of you were eating dinner at home when a cucumber slice fell off your plate. This got Mark laughing, probably remembering the joke you two had about said vegetable one night ago.
You shot him a glare, but he didn’t see it. He kept on laughing until Johnny raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s so funny about a cucumber slice, Mark Lee?” You and Johnny tend to call the younger guy that whenever you berated him.
“Oh, nothing. Please, just ignore me,” He waved his hand to show that he was making a fuss out of nothing, but you weren’t buying it.
All of you continued eating in silence, but another cucumber slice fell off your plate again. “Essie, can you please look where your food is going?” Johnny sounded annoyed as he pointed his fork at the cucumber slice on the table.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you mumbled, using your fork to get the vegetable. When you stabbed it too hard, Mark burst into laughter.
“Maaaark!” You and Johnny scolded, which the younger guy ignored. “But Essie noona!” he wheezed in between his laughter, pointing at the cucumber.
Eventually, you gave in and laughed as well. You had to admit, that was a pretty funny joke that you made.
Johnny groaned at the sight of you and Mark laughing your brains out. “If you don’t want to loop me in, then I’m going to excuse myself,” he said, quietly leaving the table.
You didn’t notice his absence as you and Mark continued to build upon your joke and laugh some more.
\\\
When you couldn’t sleep at night, you were grateful for their presence. Usually, Nini fell asleep on you while you blabbered about the existence of aliens or other conspiracy theories you watched on YouTube.
Now that you were living with the boys, they accompanied you on the couch with their preferred drink of choice – non-decaf coffee for Johnny and melon milk for Mark – and talked to you about anything.
However, there was a time that the older guy was the first to retire from your late-night talks. “I’m hitting the hay,” he said in between yawning. “Night, babies,” he patted Mark’s head while he pecked your cheek.
You resumed talking about crystal skulls as you and Mark curled in your respective corners of the sofa. You were animatedly discussing how they presumably came to be, and when he shared his opinion, you noticed that he also mimicked your hand gestures.
Before you knew it, the sun had already risen. Rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, and you saw that Mark yawned.
“Well, let’s wrap this up,” you started to get up from the couch, “and go to sleep. All it took for you to yawn was the sun, eh?” You kid, making the younger guy chuckle.
“Thanks for spending some time with me, Marky.”
There was no sign of him getting up from the couch. “I’m too tired to get up now. I’ll sleep here,” he mumbled while grabbing one of the pillows beside him.
“Okay, I’ll go now,” you ruffled his hair before going back to your bedroom. “Sleep tight.”
\\\
“Dude, are you going to be there the whole day?”
You heard Johnny say from across your bedroom. You were reading a book, the door of your room slightly open when you heard one of your housemates talk in an exasperated manner.
No one responded. All you could hear was the loud sound of water coming from the shower.
“It’s been an hour already, Mark Lee!” Johnny was pounding on the door already. “I can’t hold it in anymore!”
“Hold up! I’m not yet done!” Mark finally spoke, making the older guy groan. “The other bathroom’s out of service, and I need to shit now!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how hilarious this conversation was going, and even stood up to peek how Johnny was doing. He was crouching on the door, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Please Mark, hurry up,” he murmured, rubbing his stomach.
“Mark, please, Johnny needs to use the bathroom right now,” you shouted, hoping that he will understand his hyung’s predicament. You rushed to Johnny’s side and rubbed his back, which he appreciated. “Thanks, baby, I hope it helps,” he whispered.
A few minutes later, Mark emerged from the bathroom, and Johnny pushed him aside immediately. This made the younger guy stumble, and you stepped aside so he doesn’t fall over you. He fell flat on his face, and he cried in pain. “Johnny hyung, that hurt!” He said, clutching his knee towards his chest. You helped him stand up, and you saw that his ears were all red.
You just helped Mark Lee stand up from a humiliating fall while wearing a towel around his waist.
“Thanks, Essie noona,” he mumbled. You nodded and patted him on the back. “Please try to lessen your shower hours if you can, okay? Unless the other bathroom’s fixed, then I won’t stop you.”
Your words inspired him to make the repairs to the other bathroom to be done as soon as possible as he had a hand in fixing it.
Looks like no one can stop him and his long-ass showers.
\\\
“How about this, Essie noona?” Mark asked, holding up an orange hoodie in front of you.
You were in his bedroom as he wanted your opinion on what he would wear to a blind date set up by Yuta.
“Isn’t that a bit too casual? Where is the date going to happen?” You looked at the hoodie again, which was oversized and had text printed on the sleeves.
“It’s going to be a casual one,” he said, eyeing the garment as well, “maybe at a park or a café? I don’t want to be too overdressed.”
“Get another one. It’s too loud. And why are you asking me this instead of Johnny?”
Mark grinned first before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I want to ask you for a change, noona. I want to know what kind of clothing girls like their men to wear on a first date…”
His comment made you smile since he thought that your opinion mattered. “To be honest Marky, it doesn’t matter. But if you want to leave a good impression, try dressing up a little bit. Maybe a short-sleeve shirt with a vest on top? That’s a bit dorky and cute, just like you.”
When you realized that you told him that he was both dorky and cute, you covered your mouth. You just hoped he didn’t hear it.
“Oh, that’s a great suggestion. Okay, I’ll go with that. Thanks!” He gave you a fist bump, which you returned enthusiastically. “Sure thing, little bro. Good luck on your date!”
You left Mark’s bedroom thinking about how you wish you can tag along, and see how his blind date will turn out.
Maybe you and Johnny can go undercover and spy on him? You rushed into the room beside you, hoping that he will agree with your plan.
–––
FIN
P.S. Plot twist: Yuta is Mark’s blind date! And what could be his inside joke with Essie about cucumbers?
Jamming with Mark
Ever since this Relay Cam – I know there were previous instances of him showing off his guitar-playing skills – I knew I fell in love more with Mark Lee.
I can imagine him pursuing this path in the future, and you bet that I’m going to buy his solo acoustic album. Not that I don’t support Rapper Mark, but I am so whipped for this side of him.
Mahal ko kayong lahat! :)
–––
Summary: Essie and Mark bond over a jamming session, where feelings are left to linger with the songs he decided to play for her. In short, here’s Mark as a guitar-playing crooner and some of the songs I wish he could play.
POV: 2nd person.
Word count: 900 + words. Wow, this is the shortest piece so far!
Warning: There’s not much to say, but the lyrics of some of the songs are in bold. I just want to emphasize them just because.
Recommended listening: Oh boy, we’ve got a lot here! I’ll list all of the songs at the bottom of this page for your listening. I hope you do imagine Mark playing this too!
–––
You always pegged Mark as an R ‘n B-kind-of-guy. You weren’t surprised when you heard him cover Justin Bieber’s ‘What Do You Mean?’ on his guitar one time.
However, when he visited your apartment after being abroad for a couple of months, you didn’t expect him to play one of your favorites.
There was tension in the air when he started strumming ‘All Flowers In Time Bend Towards the Sun’ by Jeff Buckley and Elizabeth Fraser. You felt your heartbeat loudly against your chest, and you had to put a hand over it to calm it down.
That song was heartbreakingly beautiful, and sometimes you felt guilty listening to it. The song was demo leaked after the death of Buckley, never intended for a release. It felt like a secret between two people (who were ex-lovers in real life) that you weren’t supposed to know, but there it was for everyone to listen to.
He looked at you as his signal to start singing. Fraser’s part came first, and you did your best to emulate her famous vocalization. You closed your eyes, feeling the song to the bone.
When Mark’s part came on, you heard a difference in his voice. It was a bit deeper than usual, or maybe he’s channeling some Buckley in him.
The world stopped for you once you got to the chorus of the song. It was just you and Mark on the sofa, eyes locked on each other.
“All flowers in time bend towards the sun, I know you say that there’s no one for you, but here is one.”
As you repeat the lines over and over, you noticed that both of you were moving closer to each other.
Before you knew it, the song was done, and you felt breathless. You noticed Mark was audibly breathing as if the song was too heavy for him to sing.
“Wow Mark, I can’t believe you know this song,” you said, breaking the silence.
“Well, I’ve been listening to your playlist for the past few days,” he said, still a bit breathless.
Your eyes locked on each other again, and you felt your cheeks burn at how embarrassed you were feeling right now. You didn’t want Mark to feel that, so you continued to stare into his eyes, and you noticed that there was a glimmer in his.
“Want me to play another song?” His hands slid back to the strings of his guitar, and he steadied himself on the couch.
“Okay, show me what else you learned how to play,” you said, leaning your back on a pillow.
“It feels like I only go backwards, baby, every part of me says go ahead…” You weren’t expecting him to sing another heartbreaking song from your playlist.
He was now playing the most known Tame Impala song (‘Feels Like We Only Go Backwards’) that has been covered by many artists, but his version sounds similar to Alex Turner’s (of Arctic Monkeys fame).
You shut your eyes and let his playing calm you. Despite your attempts to feel chill, the lyrics bothered you a bit. It felt like he was singing it to you as a message.
To be honest, you weren’t completely honest with your feelings for him. He might be younger than you, but he expressed his desire to be with you. He declared, in front of your best friends Johnny and Key, that he will wait for you.
You felt that you were sending him mixed signals. There were times that you reciprocated his sweetness, and there were instances that you ignored them. He was a sweet kid, but the age gap made you feel uncomfortable.
Once he was done singing, you opened your eyes and saw that he looked concerned.
“Essie noona, why are you crying?”
You didn’t notice it until you felt the collar of your sweatshirt damp with tears. You wiped them away and looked away from him.
“Did I do something wrong?” You noticed that he moved closer, but he was hesitant to touch you.
“No, it’s just…me, being dramatic as always,” you said softly, wiping away all your tears. You didn’t mind if your eyes were a bit red, he has seen you in a worse state than this.
“Aw, don’t say that,” he said, and now he held your hand. You let him, and you were bold enough to let your fingers intertwine with each other. “Thank you Marky, you’ve always been kind to me.”
You shared shy smiles before he kissed your hand. You squeezed his in response before you let it go. It was calloused from all the guitar playing, but it felt warm.
“Do you want me to play another song again?” This time, he asked his question with only a few centimeters gap between you two.
“If you have been indeed listening to my playlist, can you play anything from the ‘Submarine’ soundtrack?” You replied with a smirk on your face, hoping this will challenge him.
It took him a moment to play something, as he was remembering the starting chords of the songs. When he found the one he was going to play, he faced you confidently and started playing ‘Stuck in the Puzzle’.
It felt fitting once more, and you didn’t feel attacked by it. You gave him a thumbs-up, and he continued singing, his emotions showing with each line.
“Fingers dimming the light like you’re used to being told that you’re trouble,” he looked at you for a moment before staring at the guitar again, “And I spent all night, stuck on the puzzle…”
You leaned your head on the sofa and looked at him adoringly. You loved moments like these with Mark – bonding over your love for music and discovering new artists to listen to.
How you wish things weren’t complicated with you liking a lot of guys, your best friend Johnny included…
–––
FIN