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#mark smut
vixlentnabi · 3 days
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NCT dream NSFW links!
Mdni !!!
›‹ !
Jeno treats you like a brat whenever you act out to him, this time was no different. he loved how you squirmed under his touch.
Jaemin loves when you ride him, especially when he sees your tits bounce infront of him. He couldn't resist sucking on them
Renjun is so whiney when he fucks you, he just loves burying himself into you.
Chenle fucks your thighs whenever you’re too tired to fuck.
Mark got so needy seeing you in tight little shorts he couldn’t help himself.
Heachan loves teasing you, and you love his fingers.
Jisung playing with you during a movie date.
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sxcret-garden · 23 hours
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NCT Dream getting pussy drunk [M]
ღ NCT Dream all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut reaction ღ warnings: none
Author’s note: idk, i just had this idea last night and it had to get out askldöfjkdas
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Mark:
doesn't get pussy drunk all the time, but when he does, it happens quickly
it's more likely when he's actually drunk
like that one time you're sitting on his face, your front facing his body, and the second he dips his tongue into you you can see the bulge in his pants growing
a few more licks and this guy is almost fully hard, that's how much it affects him sometimes
has his hands all over you as far as he can reach - like he just got that much more needy
hums at your taste and could cum from that alone, while he's desperate to figure out where to best hold onto you
has you falling apart on top of him eventually, and will get even more eager with his face still burried in your pussy if you start getting him off too
he's whining at all the sensations coursing through his body now, and you bet this guy is gonna cum within a minute
but even then he still needs to taste you, so you can be sure he won't be satisfied until he's made you cum a few more times
Renjun:
doesn't get pussy drunk easily, so when it happens for the first time he's so embarrassed afterwards???
like he does not know how to process the way he acted when he felt this carnal need to taste you more overtake him and cloud his mind
does everything in his might for just one more lick, and if you're feeling playful this might just be the best chance you could get to make him beg
he seems like a completely different person all of a sudden, grabbing onto you desperately and wanting nothing more than to bury his head between your legs
pure ecstasy running through his veins when he feels you clench around his tongue, almost crushing him in between your thighs when your high crashes down on you
he can't think straight at this point, all he knows is he needs more, and he needs it now
Jeno:
he just will not let you go when he gets pussy drunk, whether you're lying beneath him or are on top of him, riding his face
this guy holds you close with all his strength because he might just get addicted to the way it feels when you cum on his tongue
and maybe you should be grateful at this point that he doesn't get pussy drunk all that often, because you're in for an intense ride
loves the power he has over you when he overstimulates you, and will only give you space to breathe when it's apparent it's getting too much for you to handle
otherwise he'll just keep going, his tongue greedily fucking one orgasm after the other out of you until you're nothing but a whiny, shaking mess
though once it dawns on him what kind of state he just put you in, he'll suddenly become very soft, and he'll make sure to give you all the aftercare you could ever want
Haechan:
gets pussy drunk so easily, it happens almost every time he eats you out
like this guy just can't get enough of you, and there's just something about him having his face buried between your legs and your taste on his tongue that drives him crazy instantly
but most of the time he won't make sure you can't escape him, he might whine a little, but otherwise he'll just hope you'll let him have his fun for as long as possible
really he just wants to please you, and your taste drives him insane - he's way too in the moment to think about what may or may not happen even a second from now
and it just makes him soooo horny too
if you let him he will certainly start touching himself too while eating you out, but he won't permit himself to cum before you aren't 110% satisfied first
Jaemin:
I'm convinced this guy gets drunk on you in general, so imagine what it'd be like if he's pussy drunk on top of that
this is definitely gonna trigger both a very caring and a very possessive side of him so you're in for a ride...
gets pussy drunk fairly often though, so he's learned to keep himself in check most of the time
intense eye contact as he eats you out, his hands on your hips to keep you in place
he takes pride in knowing he can drive you crazy with just his tongue, though he will eventually add his fingers too to get you from one orgasm to the other
so soft when he lets you rest in between, asking if you're okay and if you want more (no matter how much he needs to taste you more, he won't rush into more than you can handle)
and then when you give him the okay he's eating you out like there's no tomorrow
starts slow and builds up his pace just right, because this guy has spent countless nights studying your reactions to everything he does to you to make sure he makes you feel as good as he possibly can
Chenle:
doesn't get pussy drunk all that often actually
but when it happens you will know
strikes me as the type who has fun teasing you and getting a little rough with you, so usually he'll make sure to keep you in place as he gives you the bare minimum just so he can get the gratification of hearing you beg for him
so when he suddenly goes super soft after finally letting you cum on his tongue you don't know what's going on for a second???
until you see the look on his face and hear him asking you if you want more in the most caring tone ever
it's clear a switch inside him flicked, and now all he wants to do is please you and take care of you, all thoughts of teasing you long gone
that doesn't mean he won't have you seeing stars in no time - he still knows what he's doing and he's doing it well
it's just that instead of being a little shit, he'll simply continue eating you out until you're a shaking mess underneath him, however long it'll take him
Jisung:
gets pussy drunk so quickly, he won't even know that he is when it first happens??
all he knows is that you taste so so good and he could spend forever eating you out and-
it'll dawn on him only wayyy later what just happened, unless you point it out to him
will simply keep going when he's reached that state, following only his urge to taste you more
is gonna make you cum on his tongue and then immediately continue - only when you start squirming and whining from the overstimulation does he stop for a moment
checks in on you, and when you tell him to slow down, he's trying, he's really trying, but you just taste so good, how could he not become a little greedy?
only when you suggest riding his face instead, so you could control the pace better, does the overstimulation fade into pure bliss
and this guy here too couldn't be happier, like he's just in heaven the entire time, wanting nothing more than to eat you out forever
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ratedfleur · 1 day
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nsfw links | mark lee edition
mark lee x male & fem reader genre ౨ৎ explicit
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[link] - sometimes, mark just likes to get all pretty and stripped down before touching himself at the thought of you behind the camera.
[link] - whenever mark wants you to get on top, this meant that he would let you do whatever you wanted at whatever pace you set and he couldn’t complain about it.
[link] - mark has always been a sucker for cumming on your tits because to him, it was as if he had made a mark on you, claiming you as his.
[link] - he didn’t really want to be honest and give into his wants but sometimes mark just wants to have you on top so he could see all of you as you’re riding him.
[link] - mark had always been a hair puller when he fucked you from behind because this way, he could make his point that he wasn’t kidding about fucking you.
[link] - you knew that mark was up and ready to go for another round when you realize that he had been fondling your breasts, waiting for you to notice that he was now rock hard inside of you.
[link] - mark simply liked to fuel you up just to get you to fuck him hardly, put him in his place because he likes it better to be fucked that way.
[link] - though mark fucked like a beast, he knew well that his kisses would soothe you when you’re on the verge of sobbing.
[link] - sometimes, mark is a little too big for you to take because of how hard and fast he was fucking your hole.
[link] - mark just wants to be a little tease and force his cock down your throat, liking the way you gag and how your throat contracts around his cock.
[link] - a little obsessed with your panties, mark likes to make you wear tiny bikinis during sex just for him to strip off of you later on.
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© RATEDFLEUR — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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taexoxosgf · 24 days
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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
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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
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foolsunz · 5 months
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𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥…
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— nct dream as different kink based scenarios.
content warnings: smut, unprotected sex + more. this is pure self indulgent filth. word count: 2,6K.
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౨₊ৎ Mark
fingering, BEGGING (</3) and edging.
you let a whimper and a soft ‘please’ escape you, wanting to come so bad already, but unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, mark, has other plans.
leaning down, he places a soft peck on your stomach before placing several open mouthed, hungry kisses on your inner thighs, so close to where you want him.
“tsk, i thought i taught you better than that, princess,” mark quips, the condescending tone sending waves of heat up your spine.
he gathers the cum leaking from your cunt and pushes it back inside, causing a loud moan to escape your parted lips.
mark watches as your hips buck and squirm from every breath on his lips on your glistening cunt. getting lost in your eyes, he finally seals his lips over your clit again and begins sucking, softly.
“y/n, you have to use your words…”
you feel your lower lip trembling, and your eyes already having tears welling in them. “please, baby—” you beg shamelessly, breathless moans escaping you and filling mark’s ears, making his cock twitch.
he flicks his tongue from side to side so your only reply will be another moan, another plead.
“p-please.”
“please what?” he smiles devilishly, draping your legs over his shoulders as he inserts a second finger in your dripping hole. he circles his tongue around your throbbing, swollen clit, working his two fingers into your tight hole. “words, sweetheart. tell me what you want.”
your pleading and screams get louder as mark’s fingers move faster, his thumb working your clit in circles. He pushes another finger in, finding your sweet spot as your thighs begin to shake. “please…make me come— please, markie.”
you let your head flop back on the bed; just panting and moaning as he presses three fingers inside you.
“mhm, you look so pretty like this,” he smiles, gazing up at you, “sucking all three of my fingers in. fuck, i bet you want my cock. bet you want me to fuck your throat raw until you can’t speak for a day, hm?”
“yes! fuck, mark, please—‘m gonna cum,” you moan.
each thrust of his fingers causes you to lose track of time and space and you can’t help but feel the tears pooling in your eyes.
mark waits until you’re on the cusp of your orgasm to stop his ministrations, and take his fingers out in one swift movement.
“no no no no, why— fuck, why did you stop?” you cry, your body arching off the bed as much as you can to try and get any touch from him.
you whimper when he gently pushes you back down.
tears stream down your cheeks, a pathetic pout etched on your face, and mark can’t help but smile as he kisses the expression off.
“please,” you’re saying, over and over again in a small, desperate tone.
“please, baby— please, please, please,” you beg a few more times, but in that defeated, small voice that means you know for a fact you won’t get what you want.
knowing if you beg enough, then maybe, just maybe, he’ll give you what you want.
but you better pray for it.
౨₊ৎ Renjun
spitting, praise kink, body worship and pet names !!!!
“shit, princess,” renjun starts, sucking harshly on your clit with his skilled tongue, “look at the mess you made.”
you groan, wanting to retort, but you’re lost for words. renjun doesn’t say anything, he merely gazes up at you, a mixture of your arousal and his spit glistening on his chin and dripping down his defined jaw.
“you’re fucking dripping,” he smirks mischievously at you, “i can’t wait to watch you fall apart, pretty.”
you babble incoherently, turning into a crying mess as he sucks on your clit like a lollipop, until you begin to shake, quivering uncontrollably as you mewl his name like a mantra.
“shh, shh. you’re doing so good, baby girl, you look so pretty. just keep going like this, okay angel?” he whispers breathily. “can you do that for me?”
crying out at the praise, you can’t help but nod hesitantly, causing him to smile as he begins tonguing your aching hole while his two fingers work on your clit, rubbing vigorously.
finally you hear him continue to praise you, whispering sweet nothings against your clit as he finger fucks you; and your senses can’t help but get overwhelmed.
there’s too much going on, and all you can - and will focus on, is renjun, renjun, renjun.
“fuck, junnie—” you whine pathetically, clenching around his long fingers and making him groan against your cunt.
just before you can come, renjun kisses up your body, making you whimper as you quiver around his hot breath against your lips.
“say ahh, baby girl,” he smiles, gripping your cheeks and slapping them, demanding you to: “open your mouth.”
you let a gasp escape you as you part your lips, letting him spit in your mouth before firmly grabbing your jaw and following up with a question of, “who do you belong to, huh?”
“you!”
“mhm ‘s that right?” he smirks, mocking you as he smears the spit all over your lips and face. “yeah? that’s a good fucking slut.”
his fingers thrust faster inside your hole and his thumb continues to rub your clit, determined to make you come and make you see stars.
you cry out in pleasure, and when you orgasm for the fourth time, renjun comes, untouched, his cock pulsing against your thigh as he writhes in pleasure; the feeling of you cumming enough to make him come undone, his cum staining his boxers.
౨₊ৎ Jeno
face fucking, degradation & corruption/innocence kink. 😵‍💫
“more jen,” you beg pathetically as you look up at jeno with the prettiest doe eyes.
you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out flat and inviting more of him in as he slowly slides his cock inside your small, soft mouth.
but it isn’t enough for you. “please, ngh i want— i need more.”
it’s like a switch is flipped, your usually sweet and careful boyfriend who always treats you like you’re made of glass, finally snapping and becoming rough with you; animalistic moans escaping him as he begins fucking your face.
“greedy fucking slut,” he snarls, tangling his fingers in your hair as he thrusts his cock down your throat. “you want more, huh? i’ll fucking give it to you.”
he moves his hand from your jaw to the back of your head, holding you steady as you keep bobbing your head and swallowing around his length.
“take it, slut,” he growls, thrusting harder and almost forgetting it’s your mouth he’s fucking, and not a toy. “shit… baby, that feels so good.”
you gag around him, drooling all over yourself as mascara cascades down your cheeks and your perfectly applied red lipstick a mess, all smudged from having your plush lips wrapped around your boyfriend’s dick.
you feel your throat beginning to burn and you can barely see his face due to the tears welling in your eyes, but you still want more. you want to please him, and take him - all of him; wanting him to move faster, deeper, until you’re a trembling mess and can’t breathe.
jeno hisses before yanking your hair harshly and thrusting back into your mouth, “you’re such a dirty little whore… fuck— you love choking around my cock, don’t you, slut?”
humming in agreement around him, he lets a loud whimper escape him as he bites his bottom lip.
he can’t help but wipe away your tears as he fucks your tight throat and pretty face into a drooling, needy mess. your boyfriend moans loudly, tangling his fingers into your hair before increasing his pace.
“oh yeah?” he growls, pushing your head down to make sure you choke around him and taste every inch of him. “let’s see how much you can take before you start crying like a little girl and beg for air.”
౨₊ৎ Haechan
dacryphilia, squirting (!!!!!) and pet names 😫😫
“please fuck— yes, hyuck, nggh don’t stop,” you mewl, barely able to make out coherent sentences as you babble nonsense with the need to cum.
you know at this point, your brain is purely focused on haechan’s mouth on you; the way he grinds against the mattress to relieve himself as he pleasures you with his mouth and fingers, the sweet sounds escaping the both of you…
you know you aren’t going to last long.
haechan gazes up at you through hooded eyes, you can feel him smirk against your cunt as he devours you, listening to your pleas.
he’s more than practiced at making you fall apart and making you cry and scream his name, which is why he has a new mission to be fulfilled: to make you squirt.
and, since he knows your body better than you do, he knows the only way to make that happen, is to edge you first.
so that is what he decides to do.
his wet lips closes around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly as his eyes focuses on the expressions you are making, taking in each of them in and memorising what makes you feel good.
and without a warning, he inserts two of his fingers inside of you, curling them and hitting the spot you love oh so much.
you can’t help but scream his name and arch your back for more.
“that’s the spot, huh pretty?” he smirks, moaning as he feels your walls clench around his digits. “shit, you like it when i touch this spot, don’t you?”
you bite your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks as you desperately hump haechan’s fingers, his wet tongue, and his pretty face; searching for release.
with every breath you take, soft whimpers and ‘oh my god’s’ leave your lips.
“you gonna come for me, princess?”
you nod vigorously, lust practically plastered in your eyes as his fingers and tongue begins to match the pace of your rocking hips.
“h—hyuck…” you whimper as you twitch, moaning as he leaves bite marks alongside the many other bruises that litter your body from his mouth. “god, i’m gonna—fuck!”
you sob when you feel his breath against your core, “let it go, baby,” he growls as he sucks and licks your clit with a moderate amount of pressure. “cum for me.”
he smirks when he sees tears sliding down your cheeks, “you’re so so so beautiful when you cry for me, angel…”
“so fucking pretty,” he moans, the thrusts of his fingers getting rougher and rougher every time you let out a sound.
“fuck— baby girl, i wanna see you shower the fucking sheets… wanna watch you cry, hear you scream. let it all out, baby, soak my fucking hand.”
“no, wait—” you start, but it’s too late.
you feel the sudden sound of fluids gushing down the side of your knees, soaking your inner thighs as tears of humiliation burn down your cheeks.
you feel embarrassed, mortified in fact but, hyuck merely makes a seal with his lips and sucks your clit so hard that it’s enough to clutter your vision as you gush around his fingers and mouth.
“shit— that’s it, squirt for me. fuck, just like that, that’s my girl.”
౨₊ৎ Jaemin
overstimulation, face sitting & auralism <3333
“fuck— i need to taste you now,” he groans, his lips immediately finding your tits, pulling down the cups of your bra to get better access to your nipples. he latches on to your nipple, sucking firmly while kneading the other in circular motions. “c’mere baby, sit on my face.”
he wastes no time in finding your swollen clit with his tongue, wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his face deeper into your wet pussy.
as he sucks on your clit, he looks up at you; his eyes focusing on you and your facial expressions.
he loves the small gasps and moans you let out, but he wants you to scream for him.
“are you holding back?” he asks, his tongue swirling around your clit faster, his moans causing vibrations that had you whimpering his name.
“don’t. i wanna hear your pretty little moans.” he adds, urging you to scream for him.
you feel yourself getting closer to your release as he speeds up his ministrations, and when you finally come with a scream of his name and a yank of his hair, he laps up your spill of juices dutifully, cleaning up every last drop as you come down from your high.
“oh? you thought i was done?” he poses, “no no, baby, you can take one more for me, right?”
౨₊ৎ Chenle
exhibitionism & dumbification 🥵
“chenle,” you plead, your voice thick with tears as you try your best to stop yourself from rolling your hips against his, “there’s people nearby— oh my god, we’ll get caught.”
“fuck them,” he groans into your ear before looking up at you, his deep voice and gaze sending shivers down your spine. “let them walk in, I don’t give a shit.”
you feel your thighs begin to quiver and shake as he continues having his way with you, fucking and using you like a rag doll, and just when you feel your legs almost give out from under you, chenle grabs your hips and wraps them around his waist as he keeps fucking you.
for a quick second, you’re grateful, but that’s until you realise this new angle has his dick drilling even further into your cunt.
“oh my god,” you cry out, “we can’t— chenle… you’re crazy.”
he just smiles at you, looking into your eyes; knowing they’re saying a differing story. thrusting his hips in deeper, he hisses as your hot walls squeeze around him, groaning loudly before he begins rubbing your clit in fast circles.
“tell me to stop,” he purrs seductively, kissing at your jaw before trailing kisses along your neck, “fuck— say you don’t want this as much as i do, and i’ll stop.”
the way your eyes roll into the back of your head has the blood rushing right to chenle’s cock. you both know for a fact you won’t tell him to stop, and when he begins thrusting faster, setting a relentless and merciless pace, you can’t help but give in and moan his name like a prayer as you fall apart.
“that’s my fucking girl,” he smirks proudly, picking up his pace, letting his movements do the talking for him. “shit, that’s it, baby… scream my name, let them hear you.”
౨₊ৎ Jisung
breeding and dacryphilia <3
“you wanna cum?” he questions, placing your legs over his shoulders as his pace quickens, a choked moan falling from your lips at the feeling.
you nod vigorously, your voice already slipping into a little whimper as you squeeze your eyes.
“fuck, baby… ‘m gonna fill you up good,” he purrs, thrusting forward, loosening his grip on your waist until his cock is fully sheathed inside your gspot.
“that’s the spot, right baby?” he growls animalistically, teasing you with a few shallow, yet powerful and merciless thrusts, as you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to feel more of him inside you.
“oh my god, jisung— fuck, right there,” you moan, feeling his groans echoing throughout your body, as he leans forward, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaning down to kiss you deeply, hungrily; biting your bottom lip and making you gasp. “please, i want you to come inside of me.”
“yeah, babe?”
jisung smiles devilishly, quickening to a brutal pace as he trails a hand down to massage your throbbing clit.
“want me to fill you up with my cum over and over again? get you pregnant?” he whispers, loving the way your entire body shakes and reacts to the thought of him knocking you up.
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© foolsunz 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, modify, or take credit for any of my works.
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matryosika · 6 months
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NCT127 + NCT DREAM: When they first slide it in
Members included in order — Jaehyun, Mark, Haechan, Johnny, Jeno and Jaemin. Genre — Smut headcanons (18+) Wordcount — 1,100 words Includes — Fem!Reader, suggestive content. Mentions of penetrative vaginal sex, use of petnames, dirty talk. Author's note — First NCT post! This was completely inspired by Juno's (@hyunsvngs) post on OT8 (skz) and the faces they would make when sliding it in. It's such a good read and if you missed it, pretty please go check it out! Wanted to do my own version with some NCT members, so here it is. This is mostly to try and fight back my writer's block, but I hope you all like it.
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Jaehyun: 
Eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted, definitely. 
He is the type to let out quiet but deep sighs, and keeps his gaze fixed on where your bodies connect —when he first slides his dick inside of you, he needs to watch. He loves to see how your pussy swallows him full, loves to see it disappearing inside of you. If he is fucking you in missionary, his head would fall down to enjoy the show. But, as soon as he bottoms out, he is quick to lift his eyes up to see you. He needs to see your facial expressions, to hear those gasps and whines you let out whenever he hits the deepest spot between your walls. 
Big fan of kissing your jaw and neck while he waits for you to adjust to his size, all whilst emitting quiet but deep groans. I honestly sense he is the type to ask you a question or two before moving inside of you, like a sweet “are you okay?” or “are you ready?”. But like in a whisper, barely even letting the words out. When you just nod, he hums, looking for your approval. “Mhm? Can I fuck you now baby?” 
Mark: 
It really depends on his mood. 
If he’s acting all dom, like he is in control, he would try to act in control of himself as well —eyes close shut, and teeth digging on his lower lip. He is also definitely the type to whisper a long “fuck” as he bottoms out for the first time that night. But when Mark is too needy, and desperate, and he doesn’t really care about holding himself back, that’s when you see his true expressions when he first slides his dick inside you: hazy, lost gaze. I should add that he is also most likely to go a bit crossed-eye/blank eyes right before closing them slowly, immersing himself in the feeling. I can actually hear him saying “shit, just like that baby,” as your walls squeeze him just right. He would try really hard to make eye contact with you, but can you even blame him for not being able to? I just know his dick is always too sensitive, and it takes all effort within him not to come right then and there after first sliding himself inside you.  
Haechan:
Oh he really fucking tries to hold himself back. Much more than he would like to. 
Haechan tries to appear all collected, but he can feel his heart beating on his throat and his cock twitching when the tip is barely even in. He is the type to slowly close his eyes, almost at the same time he slides his dick right in; also lets out a deep sigh along with all of it. He would pretend he is unaffected by how warm and slippery you are, but his hands would betray him shamelessly  —if he is holding you by your hips, he would grip them almost painfully; if he is holding your hands, he would squeeze them too harshly. I also feel like Haechan is the type to curse under his breath or whisper things to himself when he first feels your walls clenching tightly around him. A “so fucking tight” might escape his lips, or an almost whiny “oh God”.
Johnny: 
He talks you through it.
It’s not necessarily because I see Johnny mostly as a dominant, but I feel like he loves to take the lead in situations like this. He is the type to make sure you’re really comfortable, that he feels just right inside you. All of his psyche is focused entirely on you, so it’s no surprise that he can control all of his facial expressions and body language to admire and take care of yours. And because he is so in control of himself, I can’t really picture any instinctive or involuntary gestures from him. Nothing but one: a fucking deep, almost predatory gaze. His eyes never leave yours.
If, by any means he cracks, I can picture him as one to slightly part his lips and let out a quick gasp. 
If he sees you crying, or whining, his eyebrows would go from a straight line to a subtle furrow and he would want to know how you’re feeling, “too much?”, “slower?”, “talk to me, pretty”.  I can also almost see his jaw getting tense when he bottoms out, feeling how your walls are squeezing his dick ridiculously aggressively, “want me to stretch you out for me?”, “You’re still so tight, baby. Weren’t my fingers enough?”
Jeno:
One word: veins.
I can honestly picture Jeno’s facial expressions in such a very specific way. He is definitely the type to let out a somewhat twisted smile when he feels how tight you are for the first time that night, the veins on his neck and forehead/temple becoming too prominent as he tries to regain the control your body has taken away from him.
Cheeks and nose flushed, and a really piercing gaze that makes you feel so small —whether you’re on top or underneath him. Jeno would be damned if he loses eye contact with you, he is the type to fix his gaze on yours as he slowly bottoms out inside of you. Also asks you questions to make you realize how cock-drunk you’ve become, despite him being barely in: “did you miss it, baby?”, or “how badly you want me?”. He doesn’t expect any kind of answer from you whatsoever, but he still scoffs under his breath when he sees how fucked out you’re by so little. 
Jaemin:
Eyebrows so furrowed, eyes closed shut and lower lip caught between his teeth.
Jaemin definitely lets out a deep groan, or even a desperate whine, followed by a sweet “oh baby”. He slides his dick in and bottoms out painfully slow —to tease you and himself, of course. Like Jaehyun, only when he bottoms out does he open his eyes to see your face in pure bliss; he might even offer you a complicated, small smile at the sight of pain imprinted on your face. He takes his time prior to fucking you, and he just enjoys the feeling of your cunt cockwarming him. If your eyes start to tear up because of the big stretch his dick is providing you, I can definitely see him as the type to wipe your tears one by one while he gives you words of affirmation. Also feel like he is one to give you instructions on your position to feel his cock better. “There, baby. You’ve taken me before, open up your legs for me more, yeah?”
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lucyandthepen · 7 months
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salted caramel | lmh ( m )
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you hadn’t been aware that mark’s jealousy followed the rules of baseball — three strikes, and he snaps?
read the first part here!
pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader verse: college!au rating: r warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mc’s stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this “plot” to get to where it gets word count: 20.3k
a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days… i’m so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if it’s actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbeta’d but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope it’s something that you can enjoy, and i couldn’t pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!
if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!
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You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side — or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.
You can’t really help it; he’s still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just can’t do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Mark’s aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, you’d easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you don’t think there’s any pressing need to remind him — not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. You’re certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head — something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.
It also should be unmistakably clear that you’re head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, he’s got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) — but if he doesn’t notice then, you can’t hold it against him; Mark’s mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.
He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure you’re there right as he gets out — a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Lee’s admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, you’d correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. You’re Mark Lee’s girlfriend.
It’s a fact you don’t mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart — boyfriend — his eyes still widen, like he’s hearing it for the first time. It’s cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesn’t believe you.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter; you’ll just keep telling him.
You don’t have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish he’d look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.
However, hanging out with him doesn’t always mean you’re just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and you’ve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.
The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that you’d only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. He’s supremely outgoing, a trait you can’t say you mind, but there’s an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.
The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that they’ve come to know you as that girl Mark didn’t teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something you’ve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but you’re the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.
Again, you don’t mind it; new people aren’t an issue to you, and you’re also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways they’re alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, you’ve come to learn, through the conversations you’ve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know they’re all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment there’s even a spark of dissent from one person — and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.
Today is no exception.
“Dude, you’re crazy,” Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, he’s the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latter’s will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. “The ninth was the worst, hands down.”
“Art and rendering were so solid.” Donghyuck raises a finger, and you’re not sure if it’s to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You don’t want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latter’s face to speak up. You presume that’s why everyone else isn’t stopping them — or maybe they’re just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. “Intuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?”
“Depth? Do you even hear yourself right now?” Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. “What kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. And—”
“There’s a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.”
“The open world was a disaster,” Chenle plows on. “It was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. It’s quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. That’s exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.”
“I thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.”
It’s a singularly amusing sight — Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like he’s waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going ‘I actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,’ but that just goes unnoticed by either party.
“You once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldn’t scale. Don’t say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.”
“Unlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. That’s also probably why some people — not naming names — just can’t appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.”
Donghyuck doesn’t even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.
“You’re fucking impossible!”
“Can you guys relax?” Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. “You’re making a scene over a dead game franchise.”
“It’s not dead; they’re on hiatus,” both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before he’s fully folded his arms across his chest.
Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. You’re thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation — especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if he’s trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuck’s opinion is ‘borne of ignorance.’ When they’re all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the barista’s station, where he’s busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid that’s already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.
The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and he’s got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they don’t catch any stains. You’re pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, he’s aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. You’d bet a month’s allowance he’s doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.
And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like there’s nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.
You smile back, but when he turns away to take someone’s order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.
Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.
The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you don’t have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.
“Got anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?”
“What?” Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. You’re sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but you’re just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. “Uh — no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about… sorry, what were you guys talking about again?”
“See, that’s how normal people act,” Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. “Instead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” You’re quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. “I’m sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.”
“And if you had, I’m sure you’d have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,” Chenle sniffs, but he’s looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, who’s still ignoring him, save for the fact that he’s now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesn’t feel like such a great upgrade).
“Nah, she’d be on my side. ___________ looks like she’d appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?”
“Uh…” you say smartly.
“Man, shut up.” Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. “Got me so pissed off I need to pee now.”
You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts — which you don’t — Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. It’s only when he’s out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.
“Actually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isn’t it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?”
“To be honest, I’ve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,” you admit, and even though you’re not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. “Too bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or I’d weigh in, too.”
“Not a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?”
“No one is, Hyuck,” Jeno snorts, shaking his head. “You two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.”
“Fair. I nurture a love for old franchises.” Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how he’s managed to tick off one of his most important ‘to-do’ points of the day. “So what’s your poison, ___________?”
“What’s that mean?”
“You a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good ol’ fashioned LoL?”
“I honestly don’t have the hand-eye coordination to play,” you confess. “I know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person would’ve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didn’t throw me out.”
“She even tries to play with him,” Donghyuck whistles lowly. “Dude, how’d Mark get a chick like you?”
“Meaning?”
“You’re way too good for that dope.” His laugh is light and good-natured. “Never thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl — which he’s called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but… I get it. Doesn’t make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.”
“Sorry to put you through that.” You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuck’s just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, who’s pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. “I guess it won’t help if I say your friend over there’s my dream guy.”
“It absolutely will not,” Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. “But tell you what — if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, I’ll find you someone else more your speed.”
“No thanks,” you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. “More than that, I’d just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.”
“We can help you with that too,” Jisung volunteers. “Jeno taught me the basics. I’m sure he can teach you too.”
“Yeah, and I’m guessing you’d be a better student than mister “how come you didn’t tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myself” over here,” Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.
“I’m pretty good at sneak attacks myself.” Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. “We’ll take care of you. Mark won’t know what hit him next time.”
“What’s happening to me next time?”
You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.
“We were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here who’s just too nice to turn you down.” Donghyuck lies like it’s second nature; you wonder if that’s a Finance major thing or just a him thing.
“And you’re offering that to someone who didn’t ask for it?” Mark snorts, nudging Chenle’s bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.
“She’s so caught up in your sticky little web that she can’t struggle against you.” Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. “I’ll save you, so don’t worry. Mark can’t keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, I’ll come a-running to free you.”
There’s a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuck’s as quick to let go as he is to hang on.
“We were just talking about PUBG,” you correct, and Mark’s eyes snap to you. “I was asking for help — you know, so I won’t drag you down the next time I join in?”
“I don’t mind whatever you do in-game.” He’s quick to comfort you, even if you don’t actually need it, but it feels warm and cold “I’m just glad you wanna try it with me.”
“No, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you don’t have to keep avenging me after five minutes,” you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you don’t realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.
“Then I’ll teach you next time.”
“No, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, I’ll even beat you.” You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. “Uh… I can beat him, can’t I?”
“If you play different teams, yeah,” he confirms. “Trust me. I’ll help you kick his ass.”
“Or we’ll both kick yours,” Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. He’s massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You don’t miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuck’s face nor the way he mouths ‘sap’ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.
“Yo, hotpot at seven? Renjun’s asking,” Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. “Jaemin can’t make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.”
“I’m down,” Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenle’s eyes shoot heavenward, like he’s already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.
“Can’t,” Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. “Pre-test tomorrow.”
“Dude, it’s a pre-test,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to study if they’re just testing how much you know before studying.”
“Gotta study all the same.”
“I gotta pass too,” Jisung looks actually apologetic. “I promised my mom I’d help her move some stuff to my aunt’s place tonight.”
“Boring,” Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. “Lovebirds?”
“Rain check,” Mark shakes his head. “Family dinner. My brother’s home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us can’t make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesn’t have study group either.”
“If that’s even what that weirdo’s doing,” Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. “Fine; I’ll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I can’t coordinate in six different private chats ever again.”
“You can put my name down already,” Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. “Two names, actually.”
“I’m good on Monday too. When we see each other again, I’ll bring some prospects for you to sift through,” Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. “Cool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.”
“I’ll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,” you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.
“How the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?”
“I’m pretty sure she once told me I… what did you say?” Mark glances at you amusedly. “I had some moves, I guess.”
“You mean stutter and blush in her presence?” Donghyuck can’t decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. “And that won you over?”
“Most powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,” you shrug, grinning. “Had me from the first ‘um,’ and he’s had me ever since.”
“You lucky son of a bitch,” Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Mark’s face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.
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The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just aren’t quick enough to read the signs, as usual.
But in your defense (again), it hadn’t felt all that significant.
“Fuck, this is spicy,” Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle that’s broken by a laugh that’s not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe he’s just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.
Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenle’s part; he’d even texted you just to make sure he’d gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you can’t help but wonder if he’s not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.
“That’s why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,” Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaemin’s messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if that’s actually impossible. “You’ve got super mala breath now.”
“Don’t know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,” Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.
It’s nice, you think, that Mark’s friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes they’ve made at his expense, they’ve been consistently open to having you around. You’re not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.
They’re even louder outside Starbucks, you’ve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Mark’s friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when they’re already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and there’s a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.
Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you can’t help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that you’d been so drawn to him, but they just don’t know that even they’re victims of Mark’s natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.
But even when he’s mostly distracted by conversation, there’s a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if you’d adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (you’d always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Mark’s sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where they’ve rolled under the table, making sure you’re bump-free when you resurface.
And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what he’s doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder — you’d even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjun’s alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like he’s worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that he’ll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.
But it’s hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until there’s just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly it’s much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like he’s trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach — his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you can’t really decipher. Like he’s writing a message just for you.
It makes you feel like no matter what he’s doing, a part of his mind is always on you.
“You guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think it’s called,” Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isn’t swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. “I think it’s coming out in a week or two.”
“I’d be okay with it,” Renjun shrugs, although he doesn’t look enthused. “Kind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but I’m down if you all are.”
A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesn’t immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.
“If I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,” you warn. “Remember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.”
He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. “Yeah — we’ll pass, I think.”
“Scaredy-cat,” Donghyuck teases, and you’re surprised that Mark doesn’t come to his own defense. There’s something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose there’s also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.
“Actually, I’m the one who can’t handle it well,” you smile in apology. “Sorry. I don’t have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.”
“In short, you don’t want Mark to see you scream and cry,” Chenle deduces. You can’t even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.
“Bingo.”
“Well, we can solve the problem,” Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention for no good reason. “__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he won’t see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.”
“Thanks for the offer,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But it’s not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.”
“It is to me,” Donghyuck winks, and you feel Mark’s hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like he’s trying to make a fist but can’t quite get to that point out of personal restraint. “Or better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you won’t be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions you’re going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? It’s a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.”
You’ve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers aren’t just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although it’s hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.
“Should we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?” You ride along with the joke.
“No way. You’re the one calling the shots.” Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. “Okay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; who’s got the better punches?”
You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you can’t really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Mark’s palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.
“It’s a complete knock-out,” you finally announce, grinning. “Championship belt goes to Mark.”
“Man, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, I’d propose in a day, max,” Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.
“Man must’ve saved a nation or something in his past life,” Donghyuck grimaces. “No way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey — got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe I’ll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.”
“I would actually deck you, so don’t even try it,” Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. You’re flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesn’t often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.
The bill’s split eight ways, but Mark’s fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; it’s one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor — landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.
You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.
The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommate’s in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; you’ve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. You’re not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Mark’s friends, it’s even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.
Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; it’s cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Mark’s form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.
A part of you wonders if you’ll be able to do this — lean in, flush against him — when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize you’re more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.
“Sorry,” Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. “Isn’t hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?”
You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. “Not really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are — and how big the group is. It’s usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and they’re definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.”
“Yeji and Jisu,” he echoes. “Your best friends. I haven’t met them yet, have I?”
“Not yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we can’t get our schedules to align right just yet.” Your hip collides gently with his. “Should I let you, though?”
“One day… I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.”
“I’ll tell them, then. They want to meet you.” You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper that’s completely unnecessary. “They want to know if you’re as cute as you look in your pictures.”
Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. “How do they know what my pictures look like?”
“I stalked your Instagram and showed them,” you answer simply. He throws you a funny look that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “They liked that one with the Spider-man costume.”
“Please don’t,” he groans, passing a hand over his face. “I should have taken that down, but I didn’t think anyone would care.”
“Why? I like it.” Your hand’s the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.
“I can’t ever understand what’s going through your head,” he chuckles, and you think it’s unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. “You saw that and still wanted to date me?”
“Mark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. It’s kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.”
You’re just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like you’re caught in motion.
“I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”
“What?”
“I just look over at you and feel like it’s not real. Like you’re going to disappear, and I’m just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesn’t even know my name.” He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isn’t done talking. “And I’m going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you won’t ever feel that same way.”
“You know I’m right here, though, don’t you?” Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. “You can feel me. I’m here with you.”
Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you — a habit of avoidance you know he’s trying to correct. “Sometimes I have to wonder if they’re right.”
“If… who’s right?”
“Them.” He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. “The guys. You know — when they ask me how I got a girl like you… the truth is, I don’t even really know. They can’t believe it, and it’s so crazy to me that I still sometimes can’t myself. So I start wondering if—”
You don’t let him finish this time; it’s rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what he’s about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you don’t create the same distance, and Mark’s hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.
“They’re wrong,” you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. “So stop wondering and just be with me.”
A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, he’s nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.
“Next time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, there’ll be consequences.”
“Are you threatening me?” His laugh is colored with incredulity.
“Yes.” Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. “Maybe I’ll ground you for a week, or something really childish.”
“I’d take it if you were with me.”
“That’s not how it works,” you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. “You’d be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, I’ll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.”
“If that happens, promise me one thing, then.” He maneuvers your stance until you’re both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. “Don’t sit next to Donghyuck.”
“And let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.”
“No, really.” Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. “I don’t want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I don’t deserve you or that he’ll help you find someone better.”
“You know he’s just joking — and I’m just joking, right?”
“Just promise me.”
You pause, wondering if it’s in your best interest to tease him for whatever act he’s pulling, but there’s a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. He’s really waiting for something — an answer. The right answer, maybe.
“I promise,” you finally say, and you know you’ve said the correct thing when Mark’s lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like he’s sealing in your vow.
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On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.
The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when you’re not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No — maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time you’d spent in there, he’d thought up yet another way to push Mark’s buttons. You just didn’t really know the exact minute he’d first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.
You don’t know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesn’t even get in trouble, let alone fail. You’d only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You don’t expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, you’d spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, you’d already come to realize that it doesn’t matter because he had only attended one lecture — the first one — thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyun’s handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.
Now that you think about it, that’s probably how he does it.
You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You can’t help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because you’d much rather do things that are important to you — like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like it’s the first time you’re saying something so sweet to him, except he’s definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Mark’s face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until he’s basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.
“You should really be more legible with your strokes.” He has the audacity to chastise you as if he’s the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.
“You should really come to class more often,” you bite back, although there’s no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if there’s a chance you’ll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.
“Would if I could.”
“You actually fucking can,” you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. “Can’t you just take a picture?”
“Nah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.”
“So take a picture and then write it down carefully.”
“With your ridiculous handwriting? I’d probably fail.”
“So come to class and write it yourself!”
Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but she’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence it’s hard to imagine you’d wanted to smack him two minutes ago.
“Jung Jaehyun,” the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well — and not in a great way. “I see you’re back in here after your probationary period.”
“Sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.” He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. “I promise I won’t get in your way again today.”
“And this one—” She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyun’s pointing at you and mouthing ‘this one’ with excessive mirth in his eyes. “Isn’t another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?”
Jaehyun says ‘we didn’t defile anything’ at the same time you say I’m going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.
“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you two,” Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.
“Please, Jaehyun,” you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. “Just hurry up. Release me.”
He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. “I would like to set the record straight and make it known I didn’t fuck anyone in the library.”
“What’d you get probation for, then?”
“Just making out.” You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while he’s still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. “What are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?”
“Has it ever occurred to you,” you grumble, raising your head. “That some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?”
“No,” comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and you’d find yourself waking up in Mark’s arms instead, but you have no such luck. “By better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone else’s bedroom? That’s real defilement, by the way.”
“How’d you hear about that?” You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. “Fucking Youngho.”
“You doing that too?”
“Shut — please, would you hurry?”
He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witch’s cackle. “Almost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together — like, together together?”
You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyun’s nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. “Yeah. What’s it to you, though?”
“Nothing. You’re lucky.”
For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. “Yeah — yeah, I am.”
“I bet his friends don’t seem to think so.”
“Is this something you know because it’s a guy thing or because you’re so nosy that you just can’t help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?”
“A bit of both,” he chuckles. “Mostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.”
“I noticed that too — a bit, anyway. But it’s just banter, I think.”
“Probably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; it’s like… the perfect ammunition for teasing. But I’m pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.”
“What about yours?”
“I get it,” he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like you’re climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. “I’ll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?”
“Or how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while you’re taking advantage of my goodwill?”
“Sounds like too much effort on my end,” he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. “Later, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way — not the girlfriend way, please.”
You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. You’re so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.
“Oh, fuck— Jesus, I’m sorry, I wa— wait, Donghyuck?”
“Great to see you too, ___________.” He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. “You in a rush?”
“I was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.”
“His shift’s probably almost over. I’m headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.” When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. “Were you in a study group, or something?”
“No,” you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, who’s now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where you’d left him. Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.”
“Oh, Jaehyun, yeah.” Donghyuck snaps his fingers. “We were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I don’t know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?”
“Not really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.”
“It’s funny,” he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Jaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.”
You can’t help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. “What do you mean, my speed?”
“Not sure.” He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “Someone who’d fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers men’s health magazines to be classic literature.”
“That’s your impression of my social circle?”
“You know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Like… you asked him out. Not even the other way around. That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?” You know he doesn’t mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. “A girl can’t ask a guy out?”
(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until you’d cornered him in Youngho’s room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)
“Nah, dude. Like… a girl like you asked a guy like him out.”
“I didn’t ask him out because he was a guy like that,” you say pointedly. “I asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldn’t have asked anyone else out if it weren’t him.”
Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. “You really like him that much, huh?”
“I’m crazy about him.” His nose scrunches up like he’s been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. “Can you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably don’t like it—”
Donghyuck’s chuckle is light and easy. “I’m not teasing him because I hate it; let’s be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. I’ve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.”
“Then why are you—”
“Because he’s Mark.” A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. “And teasing him is my favorite thing to do.”
You shake your head; you can’t help your amusement, but you’re not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isn’t much you can say to change it either.
The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesn’t aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. There’s barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose there’s a measure of wit in that, but it’s also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide you’ve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.
He’s in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because he’s planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.
“Mark!” The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.
“Hey, you.” His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. “Did you have a busy afternoon?”
“Unfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?”
“I passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Design’s pretty dope.” He nods towards the elevator. “You wanna head up for a little bit?” You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.
“Hey. Can’t you see we’re having a riveting conversation over here?” Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Mark’s shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. “Have some respect.”
“Is the conversation so riveting that I can’t take my girl for the evening at all?”
You mouth out a no, but Donghyuck’s flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Mark’s hand away from your hair. “Yeah, man. At least let us finish up.”
“What’s this even about?”
“How Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,” Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Mark’s jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you can’t keep your voice straight because you’re adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. “Oh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this — and he was giving her the bedroom eyes… I wouldn’t have blamed her if she folded, honestly.”
“Mark, no,” your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. He’s slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dog’s gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. “He’s just kidding—”
“Then he got all close like this—” Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Mark’s face turn a violent shade of red you can’t remember having seen from him before. “Spoke all low — you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? ”
“He’s just messing with you,” you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuck’s hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you can’t inhale properly.
“And he said ‘you’re the hottest chick I’ve ever seen—’ then you know what he did, Markie?”
Mark doesn’t respond; you’re not even sure if he can, considering his Adam’s apple is bobbing dangerously like he’s one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you don’t know what else to do; you know Donghyuck’s teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but you’ve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didn’t involve a math problem or eating you out. “No, really, nothing hap—”
You don’t even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuck’s too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.
“Oh, Jesus,” Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. “Your face is priceless, man.”
“Not funny,” Mark grumbles, and there’s a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like it’s barely controlled.
“Also not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.” Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Man, don’t even worry. She’s downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her out—”
“Anyway.” Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like he’s worried you’ll catch Donghyuck’s crazy. “If that’s all of it…”
“Yeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.”
Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuck’s earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesn’t even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated ‘bye’ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.
It’s a slow elevator, given that it’s an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. You’re not unaware of how tight Mark’s grip is on your hand, but you don’t comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, you’re raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.
“Nothing happened.” You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. “He was just messing with you because he thinks it’s funny.”
“Yeah, I know.” Even if he says it like that, there’s still lingering doubt in his voice. “Were you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didn’t show up?”
You nod. “He was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I can’t believe he hasn’t been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.”
“No kidding.”
You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Mark’s dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; you’ve seen him all of two times, and it doesn’t look like he’s here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that there’s no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.
You work in relative silence; it isn’t anything unusual since you’ve done this a million times, and you’ve come to learn that small talk isn’t necessary when you’re just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But there’s a weird aura around Mark that you’re not sure how to place; he doesn’t seem like he’s mad, but there definitely seems to be something off — a problem, at least, that you’re not sure you know how to ask about.
So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.
“Pizza or Chinese?” You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like you’ve just woken him up from a dream. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, sorry.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“We just had pizza, so I’m thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.”
You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. “I mean, what are you thinking so hard about?”
“Nothing.” His answer’s a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know he’s lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “He didn’t ask you out, right?”
You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. “What would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.”
Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. There’s a red flush on his neck that’s only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. “I know. I don’t like it all the same. I hate… even thinking about it, actually.”
“Really — nothing happened. If you don’t count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there — which I’m sure you’d agree doesn’t count as anything in favor of him.”
“I heard Jung Jaehyun’s kind of a playboy.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Nothing. I don’t know.” His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. “It means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have — I don’t know. In the end… I just worry.”
“Don’t you trust me?” Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.
“No — I mean, yes, absolutely. It’s — I mean, it’s just—” He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. “I trust you, without a doubt. I don’t trust other people — not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, or—”
“Or Donghyuck?” You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. “Mark, you know he’s only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.”
“It’s not funny if it’s about you,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. “I know. I’m trying to control it. Sometimes… I don’t know why it gets under my skin. I guess it’s because it could happen — you… finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.”
“And if I said I hate it even more than you?”
His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way he’s running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until you’ve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.
The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Mark’s lips, and you hate that it’s all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until you’re realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.
Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm — short and firm.
“Stop doing that.”
His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and what’s left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. “Stop being jealous? I’m… I’m trying.”
You shake your head. “Stop being sexy when you’re jealous.”
The ‘what’ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, there’s a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before he’s able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know — everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesn’t know it.
You’ll never grow sick of the taste of him, you’re sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. It’s familiar and comforting, and it’s only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is — the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.
You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoever’s listening for the gift of Mark Lee.
“Mark,” your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. “You know, right?”
His ‘hm’ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and there’s a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.
“If it isn’t you,” you whisper. “Then there’s nobody else.”
You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like he’s trying — much too hard, and for no good reason — to stop himself from tipping over. You don’t like that either; if he’s there, you think, you should take him over the edge.
“But if you want them to know so badly, then…” You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your claim on me?”
You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. There’s a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way he’s handling you, but you feel it anyway — all of his tension’s concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if he’s worried anything less will cause you to disappear.
“Every time you worry, remember you can do this.” You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. “You’re the only one that can.”
His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. “I know. It’s just not fair.”
You hum in questioning, but he doesn’t answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark he’d surely left, already starting up the same routine. You’d let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. It’s almost a mistake, seeing him like that — lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth he’d been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing — no, that isn’t accurate.
A mouth made for you to kiss.
“What’s not fair?” You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.
“How badly I keep wanting you,” he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. “And how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.”
His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like he’s careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but there’s a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you he’s thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.
“I touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.” His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. “I think about kissing you and it feels like everyone’s thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you don’t know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When I—”
He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesn’t want to continue — doesn’t want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you can’t let it go. “Tell me.”
“When I think about fucking you,” he breathes out, voice barely audible. “Whenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me… I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and it’s driving me crazy because… because they can’t.”
It’s there again, flashing in his eyes — a determination that reads almost like fury.
“They can’t,” he repeats, his voice firmer. “I won’t ever let them. Never.”
You don’t stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does — the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and it’s harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.
“It doesn’t — doesn’t matter,” you manage to whimper out. “How many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.”
His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.
“God, please,” he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. “Please, tell me.”
“Mark, I’m yours.” There’s no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something you’re reinforcing as fact, something that can’t ever change. “I’m always going to be yours — no one else’s. I’ll never let anyone have anything that’s yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. I’ll never say no to you. Only you — always you.”
You know something’s different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, they’re tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear — feel — something there — a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before he’s carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.
You’ve been in Mark’s room before, so there’s absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesn’t matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Mark’s crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldn’t want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you don’t really know why he’s already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.
“Never,” he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. “I’m never going to let anyone take you, ever. You’re all mine.”
His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark he’d left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. You’re usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.
Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but it’s all he seems to need for now.
Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. You’re unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they don’t move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesn’t take the hint — or, perhaps, the bait — keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work — the blooming dark patch you’re sure he’s left where your skin tingles the most.
“If I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t ask for it?”
He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between ‘Mark’ and a sob.
“I want to, so badly.” He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. “I’d want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. I’d want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And I’d want you to say it proudly — that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.”
“Why don’t you?” His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesn’t believe you, too — how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.”
Another laugh escapes him, but there’s more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.
“Show you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?”
“Do you not want to?”
“I want to, and I don’t.” He pauses, slightly amused, and you know he’s remembering the first time you fucked. “I don’t them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I don’t want them to look at what’s mine, but I just want them to know it is.”
“Then you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.”
He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; you’re bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.
“Can’t.” He decides finally. “You’re too pretty for that.”
You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs — not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.
“What about something like this?” You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. You’ve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. “Would you let them watch me do this for you?”
“Let me think about it,” he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You don’t have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.
“Think faster,” you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t even want them to watch me jerk you off?”
“At least give me a full minute.”
You laugh lightly, whispering a ‘fine’ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesn’t need the lubrication, realistically; his precum’s already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.
Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one you’re always up for; there’s something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you can’t reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so — his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesn’t stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and you’re not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.
You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; you’re grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. It’s slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that you’re not really used to, but you don’t care; Mark’s sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.
The room’s filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Mark’s hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isn’t guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he can’t; he wants to feel like he’s fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.
It’s relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize you’d been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.
“It’s… still a no for me.”
Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You don’t want to ask; you just don’t want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like he’s apologetic.
“Even just this — you’re too pretty when you do it.” His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. “I can’t let anyone see what you look like when you’re like this. They’ll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And you’d only do it for me — right?”
You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.
“God, I wish you could see yourself; you’d know what I mean,” he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises you’re making. “How pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when you’re kneeling like this for me — how happy you look when you’re sucking me off. I can’t share that with anyone. Fuck — not ever.”
Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered ‘shit’ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until you’re finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.
His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.
“So pretty,” he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Pretty as hell, fucking perfect — and you’re all mine.”
You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves today’s taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like you’ve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.
His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; it’s like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if he’s worried it’ll fade in a few minutes’ time if he doesn’t give it attention.
“Show me.” Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. “Show me how pretty you are for me.”
His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.
You think he’s about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesn’t happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. “Pretty enough for you to fuck?”
“Do you have to ask if you already know?”
“I want to hear it anyway.”
His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesn’t really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.
“Your pussy’s too pretty not to fuck,” he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. “Seeing it like this… makes me think there’s no way anyone can resist. It’s exactly why I can’t let anyone see you like this.”
You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know it’s nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. “How should we let them know, then? That I’m all yours.”
His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance he’s in. He’s grown quiet, but there’s a thoughtfulness in this pause, like he’s seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him you’re just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You can’t help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isn’t completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.
“Mark, what—”
You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question — he’s tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen — excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.
Mark’s silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesn’t ask, but you can tell he’s wondering if he’s gone too far— if you think he’s crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just can’t know the smile that passes your face.
Finally, he tries to speak up. “We don’t have to— I just meant—”
“What’s your passcode?”
He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. “Your birthday.”
Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you — you don’t even remember when he’d taken it, but it’s a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. It’s grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.
“What’s funny?”
“Just thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.”
“To what?” He sounds bemused.
“The view of me you have now.”
His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a ‘fuck’ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.
You open Mark’s contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you don’t recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesn’t ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far you’re willing to take it, how much you’ve bought into this crazy idea.
“Mark,” you call out, and he hums in response. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“With my life.”
“So if I called Donghyuck right now—” His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and you’re slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. “How much of a show would you want to put on for him?”
He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget you’ve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.
“Just… enough for him to know you’ve always been mine.”
Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name — Lee Donghyuck — and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.
The wait feels like an eternity, with Mark’s finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. “Yo, Mark.”
His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and you’re willing to bet he’s in the middle of an action movie. You’re proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.
“Hi, Hyuck.”
“___________?” He sounds genuinely confused that it’s you that greets him. “Where’s Mark? You okay?”
“He’s right here with me; don’t worry.” Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. “We’re totally fine. What are you up to?”
“Watching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?”
You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesn’t let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.
One moment, you’re listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuck’s side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you don’t bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.
“Hello?”
He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You can’t help it; you laugh too, but it’s quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.
“Now, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?”
“You kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,” you evade his question with another one. “Should I tell you why, if you’re that curious?”
“No way. Have fun, weirdos,” he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.
You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but you’re distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuck’s name flashes across it.
You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you don’t even get a ‘hello’ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.
“But pretending I am,” he says, as though he hadn’t hung up the call a few seconds ago. “Exactly what kind of answer would I get?”
“The kind that’ll hopefully shut you up for good,” Mark pipes in instead of you.
“What’s that even going to sound like?” Already, Donghyuck’s activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Mark’s buttons. This time, though, you can’t say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. “I bet you can’t even get her to yawn, man.”
Mark doesn’t have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, it’s not something you’ve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.
“You okay?” He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuck’s still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know you’re being honest.
“Fucking big, Mark.” You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. “You don’t like knowing he’s big?”
“I just hate that fucker,” Donghyuck quips back easily, but there’s no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.
“Well, I’m crazy about him,” you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. “I’m crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. I’m crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when he’s inside me, how he stretches me out — fuck—”
Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you haven’t fully adjusted, and you’re even tighter now from what you’re saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace — hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.
“Mark,” you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know he’s there. “Mark, fuck, it feels so good—”
You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and it’s with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.
You’re not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phone’s speaker — labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and it’s all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. “I’ll never get tired of how pretty you are — how pretty you always sound for me. Doesn’t she sound pretty, Hyuck?”
“Fucking pretty,” Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet ‘fuck me, harder, harder,’ in response.
“Can you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?” It’s almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Mark’s addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attention’s fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. “Bent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?”
“I’m doing it right now.”
“It’s a thousand times better in person. Trust me.”
The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Mark’s hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.
“Mark, I…. I’ve been— s-since—”
“Not yet,” he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. “Hold out for me a bit, okay? Please. It’s not enough. Not yet enough.”
You wonder if ‘enough’ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isn’t helping you stop it the way your body seems to think it’s supposed to. It also doesn’t help that Mark’s fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual — but not unpleasant — roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.
“Hold on for me a little,” he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper ‘can’t’ to him over and over. “Do it for me. Tell Donghyuck — tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.”
You don’t even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.
“It’s not enough,” you echo — and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that it’s true. “Not enough — need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cock— until no one else can fuck me but you—”
“What,” Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. “The fuck.”
You don’t have to explain; your babbling’s doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. He’s jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Mark’s cock. The change doesn’t go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.
“How much tighter can you get?” He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud — there’s a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. “Does it feel that good?”
“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. “So good I’m going to lose my mind. Let me — God, please, let me—”
“Not yet,” Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort — a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you don’t even really need. “Just a little more. I need to see it.”
“See what?” Donghyuck’s voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your head’s light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. You’ve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.
His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, there’s something triumphant in his gaze.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he coos, so lovingly it’d be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldn’t feel it yourself. “I’ll never get enough of your perfect pussy — so perfect that it was made to take me.”
“See what?” Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.
Your inhale’s shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you don’t ever break away from Mark’s gaze, even as you speak.
“His cock fucking me in my stomach.”
Donghyuck’s ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. There’s no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls that’s constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.
Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. You’re only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.
“God, I need to feel it,” he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. “Please — do it for me.”
Even with your brain muddled, you don’t even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. “Love seeing my cock inside you.”
He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously can’t feel his cock under your palms, but you don’t have to anyway; the fit’s tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like he’s fucking your whole body, like he’s pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more — the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.
“Love feeling me inside you,” he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that he’s also barely hanging on. “Love seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.”
You mouth out a disbelieving ‘what the fuck’ that earns you a simple smile, but Mark’s unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.
“Dude, I wanna see it too,” Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. “Put her on video.”
“No way,” comes Mark’s swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. “This is just for me.”
“Selfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.”
“The point wasn’t really ever to share.”
Mark’s hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless — it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you can’t escape anyway — not that you really want to, anyway.
“Mark,” you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. “I can’t anymore — I really—”
“I got you,” he murmurs — something you’ve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. He’ll be here until you break, until you can’t take anymore. “One second, okay?”
“Bro, what? Are you serious—” Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesn’t matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach — for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuck’s complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Mark’s gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.
“Can’t let him hear you cum,” he murmurs against your mouth. “That’s only for me, isn’t it?”
You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one I’ll cum for — the only one that can make me.”
Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.
“Do it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.”
You don’t think it’s possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the wind’s knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mind’s so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.
Mark still doesn’t relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details you’ve come to know so well — the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. He’s close too, so close he’s just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You don’t know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch — pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked — just to get him there.
“Will you mark me up one last time?” You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. “Mark me — inside.”
His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. “I— no, you know I can’t…”
“Do you want to?” You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until you’re sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. “You can, you know — make me yours, from the inside out.”
“God — we can’t; you know we’d be in so much trouble.”
“But I’d let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?” Your fingers toy with his, almost like you’re having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which he’s deep inside you, already aching for release. “Fucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach — making sure no one else can fill me up?”
“Jesus,” he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.
“Think about it,” you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. “And every time you do, remember one day, you will — because you’re the only one that can.”
He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and you’re met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.
“Even when you do that, you’re fucking pretty,” he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. “How much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?”
He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, and you don’t have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too — the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.
When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; he’s breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.
A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesn’t even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.
When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark he’d left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise that’s already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.
“Just… can’t get enough of you,” he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; it’s gentler, situated just under your jaw.
“You don’t ever have to think about having enough,” you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. “Just always think about having more.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where you’re wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity — if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuck’s name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.
“Seriously,” he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.
“We kind of left him hanging, to be fair.”
“No fairness.” Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. “He got more than he deserved today.”
You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle ‘be right back’ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.
He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because it’s ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though there’s already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.
You think it’s the last you’ll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.
“One day,” he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. “I’ll really make you all mine.”
“Dummy.” Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Every single day, considering I’ll never get tired of it.”
You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; it’s your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his — like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you — to make sure he won’t let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again — a truth, a fact, and a promise.
“I already am.”
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jenosz · 3 months
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jealous dreamies fwb texts pls?? maybe like a ‘he’s into you’ situation? whatever you think is best thank you! 🥰
he’s into you, nct dream texts.
giggling n kicking my feet i need all of them so bad. tw: becomes suggestive like every damn time sorry HAHA, here’s my masterlist! tysm for requesting <3 (ps this made me wanna start a fwb jeno series help)
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© jenosz 2023
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lisired · 15 days
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can you keep it down?
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pairing: neighbor!mark x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, dilf!mark, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, thigh slapping, forced submission, implications of brat taming (in progress), praise, degradation but it’s more like banter, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy)
summary: The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.
word count: 10.4k
a/n: 4/4 of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
The first time you met Mark, it was right outside your door. 
It was late at night - debatably early in the morning - and you had been in the middle of bringing yourself to the third consecutive orgasm in a row when loud knocking interrupted you. Part of you was tempted to ignore whoever was determined to beat down your door, but it was ceaseless and frankly, you were growing annoyed. 
Swiftly you slipped on the closest pair of shorts and marched to the front door in large strides, swinging it open once you finally arrived. Then, your eyes met Mark’s. 
He was a mere stranger to you then. But what you saw made you want to know him. What you saw made you nearly forget that you were on the brink of orgasm only moments ago. A pair of beautiful brown eyes stared back at you. 
“Hey,” he greeted, voice gruff. “Sorry to bother you, but can you keep it down? I live right next door and with all the noise I can’t sleep.”
For a moment you only blinked, processing his words slowly. You weren’t aware that you were being that loud. But then again, you were in no state to properly register your actions - you were delirious with pleasure and had blocked everything else past your senses. 
When you finally processed his statement, your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed. “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry, I had no idea. I’ll try to be quieter from now on.”
He gave you a courteous nod and replied, “No worries. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
And that was it. When you shimmied back out of your shorts, you didn’t even feel energetic anymore, only overcome by exhaustion and the burdensome fact that you had work in the morning. You groaned and flopped against your bedsheets, letting sleep swallow you whole. 
But the image of your new neighbor was reoccurring. There was something familiar about him, like you had seen him once before. And there were things you noticed right off the bat about him. For one, he was an older guy. Not old, but evidently beyond your years. And if the shorts he wore was any indicator, he was likely a father. 
That made the chain of thoughts about him increase, and you didn’t even know his first name. There was instant intrigue and desire to get to know your new, next-door neighbor. 
Though visions died quick, and dreams were killed even quicker. When you saw Mark swallowing some girl’s face only moments before she left his apartment on your way to work some days later, you rationalized yourself and decided to take it steady. It was certain that you were sure of what you wanted, but you respected his relationship. You were a great deal of things - delusional and a homewrecker weren’t on the list. 
The second time, it was when you least expected it - at a local cafe. 
Mark sat across from you, coffee cup in hand. Awareness of someone’s sudden presence made you shudder, and it slightly soothed you when you realized it was your hot neighbor. Your heart was still beating fast. 
You played it cool. “Are you stalking me, neighbor?” 
Amused, your neighbor let out a chuckle that was like music to your ears. “My name is Mark,” he introduced himself, smiling blithely. “And don’t flatter yourself, neighbor. I saw you here coincidentally and sat here because I had one good question for you.” 
With an eyebrow arched, you casted Mark an identical smile. It amused you that he spoke to you as if you had been long friends, though you didn’t mind. You had been intrigued by Mark the moment you first laid eyes on him, and had been incapable of taking them off him since. 
“Mark,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. You played along and bobbed your head after a few moments, deciding you liked his name and gave him yours. “What do you have to ask me, Mark?” 
Mark leaned over the table, voice an octave above a whisper as he asked, “Who’s fucking you so good that you can’t be quiet?”
He leaned back out and eyed you smugly when you blinked in surprise. His bluntness had caught you off-guard and he was proud of it, but you refused to not quickly recover.
Feigning indifference, you replied, “No one. Most of the time it’s just me and my toys. I have a hectic work schedule so it’s rare for me to find time to mess with people.” 
Much to your misfortune, it was true. Working a busy office job meant that you had little time for even short-lived flings or one-night stands, much less the commitment of a serious relationship. It was difficult to recall the last time that you had gotten laid. With work taking such a humongous toll on you, your only way of relieving all of your pent-up frustrations was with sex toys. 
That response was a clear shock to Mark, and in return you took pride in it. He was expecting you to be taken, but now that you had essentially implied that you weren’t dating anyone, he felt free to make a move on you. It was an indirect way of asking you if you were single. He also didn’t expect the same girl that flushed red when he confronted you about your noisiness to meet his boldness, but it was a welcome surprise. Mark could tell only fun things would come out of knowing you and becoming your neighbor. 
Mark took a long sip from his cup, then asked, “What do you do for a living?”
“I work a variable job as an executive assistant that spends an ungodly amount of time behind a computer screen doing everyone else’s job for them,” you smiled tiredly. 
He threw you a playful grimace and glanced at his watch for a split-second, but you had his undivided attention again in no time. “Damn, no wonder. You must like things rough.”
That took you by surprise, but you didn’t dare show it. “You have no idea,” you grumbled, playing it safe. “What about you?”
Mark grinned with pride. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”
“Must be fun.”
“I can’t complain. It’s a stress sometimes, but it pays the bills.”
You chuckled. “Amen to that.” 
It felt forbidden to be interested in your potentially taken neighbor that you only met a couple of days ago, yet here you were talking to him about your sex and work life. To make matters worse - and if that comment about you liking things rough was any indicator - you might have somehow also piqued his interests. 
Maybe you were just reading too much into his words. After all, you were his noisy neighbor that kept him up at night. He was probably just curious as to why you seemingly made enemies with silence. 
Mark glanced at his watch again then rose from his seat, and you figured he had places to be. “I’d better get going. I have to pick up my son.”
“Your son?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. The confusion was fake, of course. You had a hunch that he was a father, but you had never seen or heard the child to confirm your suspicions. 
“Yes, my son,” Mark gave you a hard stare that you couldn’t make out. “It’s Friday and he stays with me this weekend so please, if not for my sake then for his, keep it down.” 
You gave Mark a nod. He bid you farewell and made a break for the door, the chime of the bells letting you know that he was gone. He had wanted to stay for a bit, play for a little longer, but decided it was a good thing he didn’t get much of a chance to make a move. For now, Mark was intent on observing you. He wanted to figure you out a bit more before he went to first base. 
But damn was he interested. There was something about you a couple of moments ago that he was attracted to, how you seemed equally bold as he was. A stark contrast from the first time he met you, but he figured that he had simply caught you at a bad time. 
That was the thing, though - Mark didn’t know you. He needed more time before he could be sure you were worth it.
For at least the weekend, you obliged Mark’s wishes. As aforementioned, you were a great deal of things, but you weren’t petty for the wrong reasons. Or outright odd. It wasn’t like you were loud for the sake of it, you truly just never realized what you were capable of. 
Over the course of those days, you continued to think about Mark. He had cut deep in your imagination and now there was a permanent scar that refused to heal. It was silly, being so hung over a guy you hardly knew and couldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. 
Mark was giving you a headache. You weren’t one to be indecisive over what you wanted, but that wasn’t the case here. From the moment he showed up at your doorstep, you knew that you had to have him. The problem was that you wanted to outline boundaries. There were places you were able to step and then there were places you weren’t. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away because of your urges. 
The third time you saw Mark was the following weekend, bumping into him in the halls. You were going to apologize, but then his face fell into your vision. And thus, you noticed something completely new about it. 
“You have a stubble,” you commented, nearly gawking. 
Mark bobbed his head, grinning. He found it interesting how you gazed up at him as if you’d never seen a man with a stubble before. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you don’t shave. Shocking, I know.” 
“I kind of like it.”
He snickered. “Only kinda?”
More than kind of - and while you weren’t afraid to admit it, you ignored his question. The stubble was the completion to Mark’s physical attractiveness that you hadn’t even known you would be into. He was already hot as hell, though now he was somehow even hotter. 
He shot you a smug smile, unable to miss the way that you leered at him. You found him attractive. It was no secret and Mark wasn’t sure if you intended for it to be or not, though the way that you were unabashedly fucking him with your eyes gave him a huge hint. After last weekend’s encounter, you didn’t strike him as the type to shy away very easily. Confident. 
So was he. 
“You’re just standing here watching me like you want to eat me. Do you like it that much?” 
There were a couple of routes you could take with that question. Either you could be honest and tell him how you felt, or you could beat around the bush. You chose the former. 
“Sight for sore eyes,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes. He held eye contact with you as well as the expectation that you would break, but you proved him wrong. You kept looking him in his eyes as you said, “I love it. I think it suits the fuck out of you.”
Mark raised a brow, intrigued by your response. “Mm,” he hummed. He moved a step closer to you and asked, “What else do you like?” 
Your breath began to speed up and so did your pulse when you picked up on how close your bodies were. You were hyper aware of the proximity and it was slowly killing you, setting off visceral reactions in your body. Another inch and his lips would be brushing yours. It felt like a test on your behalf - to see how you would react and if you would chicken out - and you utterly refused to back down from the challenge. 
Deflecting, you tore your eyes from his lips and asked back, “Initiating a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway?” 
He cocked his head to the side. “Do you wanna come in, then?”
“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” you faked a pout, the most subtle sullen undertone hiding in your sentence. 
Mark resisted a grin. It was probable you were indirectly determining whether or not he was single. But the tiniest hint of sadness in your voice suggested that you might have genuinely been under the impression he was in a relationship. 
“What girlfriend?” He threw you an utterly confused look. “I haven’t been in a relationship since the birth of Christ.” 
You stared at him with genuine surprise. “I saw you sucking some girl’s face like last week.” 
“And have you seen her around here again since?” Mark scoffed, amused. 
What he was implying began to sink in gradually and you realized that you had made an awfully large assumption the other day. Though in your defense, people making out with their hookups like that was completely unheard of to you. It looked too passionate, especially for the morning after. When you had nothing to quip, Mark made a face at you that made you want to sink into the ground, and added, “She’s not my girlfriend - she was a fling. We had sex the previous night but I’m sure you weren’t able to tell because unlike someone, I know how to be quiet.”
Was. That meant not any more. 
Affronted, and refusing to take that, you took a step back and shot, “Maybe your dick game is just weak if she’s that quiet.”
“You wanna find out?” Mark cocked his head to the side with an exasperating smile, taking a step forward for every step you took backwards until your back hit a wall. It was obvious that you were trying to get a rise out of him and he wouldn’t take the bait. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Mark’s hands were on either side of you and his gaze rooted you in place. Neither of you seemed to give a damn that you were in public and in the view of a security camera. You kept staring at one another, pupils dilated with obvious want. Now that you were aware that Mark was single you deemed it perfectly safe to cave in to your desires, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to - yet. It was funny how whenever you finally got what you wanted, it was never enough. 
You smiled softly, matching the little smirk on his face - you didn’t want him to think that he had an advantage over you, and whether he did or didn’t wasn’t relevant. “Are you saying that you want me?” 
“I do want you,” Mark confessed without a care. He had no true intention of sleeping with you just yet, wanting to get to know you some more, but it wouldn’t hurt to admit that he was attracted to you nonetheless. “Do you want me?”
Seductively, you leered at him, then purred, “So bad.”
“Then, stop deflecting.”
With one little breath, you said, “Fine,” then closed the tiny gap between the both of you and your lips. When he kissed you back, your hands sought for his neck and his hooked around your waist. 
As you kissed Mark it only became more fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in attempts to maintain dominance over the other. Yet neither of you would cave. Both of you were fighting fire with fire and it was like nothing that either of you had ever experienced before. Mark displayed a clear need for power and control, and while you weren’t against letting him have it, you were never one to give it away that easily. 
You tugged on Mark’s hair, wanting to feel him as close as possible. His calloused hands began to wander all over you, kneading your skin and making you moan softly into his mouth. You could feel him grinning against your lips. His touch was like fire and your body was already burning with lust, desire, and everything in between. It had been so long since someone last touched you like this, kissed you like this. Mark was filling in all the little gaps and empty spaces. 
A rough pull at his locks made Mark groan into your mouth and he pinned your hands above your head, up against the wall. He got rougher, as if he was trying to fit you into the wall - or maybe force you through it. But the fervor was welcome, and although he had pinned your hands above your head, you still kissed him with as much eagerness as you were humanly capable. 
You pulled away when you had your fill, knowing that if you kept him close to you any longer you would make a move for his clothes, and your exhibitionism kink only extended so far. The both of you stared at one another with sheer lust, but there was an almost telepathic understanding between you. We have to wait. 
Out of breath, you casted Mark a flirtatious wink and smile before parting and said, “See you later, Mark.”
Then, you sashayed back to your apartment. When you felt his eyes boring holes into your back, you simpered to yourself. You had planted the seed; now all you had to do was let it grow. 
Days of messing around with Mark turned into weeks, but both of you were yet to succumb to your temptations. It was like you were waiting for the other to give in first and neither of you wanted to grant the other that satisfaction. 
But of course, after planting the seed you had to water it and give it sunshine. In other words, you continued to flirt with Mark, maintaining his interest. And in return, he maintained yours. From anyone else’s point of view it might have seemed silly to be resisting each other when it was clear as day that the lust was mutual, but you and Mark were too alike. Too much pride, and too much adoration for all things thrill and tension.
Even when he wasn’t in your company, Mark was on your mind. It had only gotten worse the moment you kissed him. In the beginning you only thought about him occasionally - mostly whenever you saw or heard him - but now he was creeping into your head during your downtime and that was a problem. Your thoughts consisted nearly completely of him. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was all you could think about. 
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One weekend, you surprisingly encountered Mark at a playground. He appeared shocked to see you, but only let it show for a brief moment.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re the one stalking me. What in God’s name are you of all people doing at a playground?”
“Please. You’re not that special. I don’t have the time or energy to stalk anyone, baby,” you drawled with a hint of amusement. You pointed at a little girl. “You see that little girl in the purple shirt on the slide? That’s my niece. I’m babysitting her for my brother and sister-in-law. Today’s their anniversary and they wanted peace.”
Mark bobbed his head, understanding. “Of course. You can’t have any of that around a child. How old is she?”
“Just turned six about a week ago.” 
“Around my son’s age,” he remarked, then pointed towards the set of swings. A couple of children played over there, but only one young boy was in the group. And he looked almost just like someone you knew. “He’s right there on the swings. Six, but he’s nearing seven.”
He was absolutely adorable. You were already thinking about play dates between him and your niece. She was lovely and enjoyed meeting new people, bless her pure heart. 
You smiled softly with awe. “Stole your whole face. There’s no way in hell you could deny that boy.”
Mark snickered, shoulders shaking. “Damn right. My little mini-me,” he sighed happily. He took his eyes off his son for a split-second to glance over at you. You looked beautiful, as always. And you were watching your niece with so much intent and care that he doubted you had even snook a glance of your own his way. “Fond of kids?” 
“I babysitted throughout college,” you replied pensively. Reminiscent. “Believe it or not. I thought it was my calling because I was so responsible and the parents always praised me, plus it was a huge step towards individuality. Grew up with a lot of siblings and relatives, too, so I’ve always been around children.” 
Mark grinned, satisfied. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was only curious because he was interested in you, and before he jumped too far ahead he needed to know what you thought about children. It was a relief that you had so much tenderness for and resonated so well with them. That gave him all the more reasons to want you by his side. “What about you?” he asked, adding when your face scrunched about with confusion, “Do you want kids of your own?” 
There was no reluctance in your answer, like you had already thought long and hard about the question before. “Someday. When I’m married and sure I’ve chosen the right person to settle down and have kids with. And when I have a less demanding job so that I’m able to take care of my family and spend time with them,” you said, smiling wistfully. “My parents were busy people. They weren’t around a whole lot so me and my siblings practically raised each other.” 
Mark gave you a look. One you could make out as pity. You thought his response would be predictable, but it caught you by surprise. “You don’t want to be pitied, do you?” 
You blinked, genuinely unsure of how to respond for a moment. Then you broke into a broad grin and said, “Nope.” 
“I feel for you anyways,” Mark gave a playful nudge to your side with his elbow. “And I think you have beautiful visions for the future. I can tell you’re gonna be a great mother.” 
You thanked him in a way that was positively bashful. For a while, you and Mark chatted about whatever the hell you wanted - topics in relation to the children, personal life, and everything in between. After the day you and Mark kissed, a more mutual effort to get to know each other blossomed. Mark told you everything there was to know about his job. Most of the time he worked from home without much need for overseer authorization, and set his own hours. As someone who loved being in control, it suited him. 
It was alarming that you had gotten so personal so fast. You had only known each other for a month, more or less, and only really began talking a couple of weeks ago. Yet you felt comfortable enough to share a certain level of information that you normally would conceal. 
You were becoming close in every sense of the word. The tension between you and Mark never fizzled out, it only seemed to grow more, and more, and more, until it would eventually explode in your faces. By then, you would have no choice but to confront it directly. You couldn’t wait. 
Mark wrapped his arm around your waist, and peered down briefly to look at it. Contact drove you crazy. You loved having Mark’s hands on you, even in non-sexual ways. 
He pulled you into him and asked, “How long are you keeping her?”
“Just until five. I’m taking her to her grandma’s after this,” you replied, shifting your gaze back to the playground. But a smug smile tugged your lips. “Why?”
There was a shine in Mark’s pretty brown eyes. It was almost five. Voice tickling your neck, he leaned in to say bluntly, “Because I wanna take you for a ride. Are you down?” 
You casted him an observant glance over your shoulder. What Mark wanted was clear, or so you thought, but you were in the mood for playing hard to get. As per usual. “Dunno. What kind of ride?” 
“The kind where we get in my car and go whatever the road and a full tank of gas leads us,” Mark shrugged. “It’s a yes-no question, doll. Are you down, or not?” 
Doll. That was new. You had reached the pet name stage, calling each other ‘baby’ a couple of times, but ‘doll’ was new. It also had you wishing that you were both alone so that you could do something about how badly you craved Mark in that moment. 
“I’m down. Meet me outside the complex at six?” You questioned, peering up at him yet again. You smiled when you met his eyes, unable to resist the urge. Mark made you feel good inside, all warm and gross. It was a delight to know you were still capable of feeling such a way. After all, it had been so long since the last time. 
Mark nodded and smiled back. “I will. Child-less, so that we can have peace of our own.” 
You giggled into his chest. You could smell his scent, and it was heavenly. 
At six o’clock, Mark was waiting for you downstairs like he said that he would be. And he was child-less. You both were. 
Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his car for you and shut it once you were completely inside. Of course, it took more than simple courtesy to impress you, but something about it was making you giggle. Something you couldn’t pinpoint.
Mark gave you a look once he settled in the driver’s seat. “What’s funny?” 
“Chivalry,” you sighed, smiling. “Apparently, it’s not dead.”
Mark was amused, but held back a snort. You were occasionally ridiculous, but just the right amount. He could tolerate it. 
As he gripped the steering wheel, the car jerked to live underneath his fingertips, and soon you were both rolling. You said nothing for a little while, Mark focusing on the road and you peering out the window. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he cut on the radio and began to hum the song that was currently playing. 
You glanced at him witheringly, but he was unbothered. Then, you teased with a grin, “Oh, yeah. Show out, Beyoncé.” 
“Stop being a hater,” Mark groaned, then went back to singing. 
After some moments of teasing, you were finally content and gave it a rest, relaxing into the leather seat. You were happy. If anyone had told you a month ago that you’d be in your new neighbor’s car listening to him sing songs from the radio, you would have called them insane. But you weren’t stupid and you knew better than to vulnerate yourself to a stranger. You told a couple friends about him and realized why Mark had seemed familiar - because he was. One of them knew Mark and was able to vouch for him, assuring you he was a good guy. That was why you felt so goddamn free. 
It was peaceful, being alone with Mark. Whenever you weren’t both determined to get into each other’s pants, that was. But there was none of that right now - only the scenery whirling by at the pace of the lightning, the radio prevailing over the silence, and Mark by your side. And you by his. It felt too damn nice. 
“You never answered my question that day.”
“Hm?” you gazed at him, confused. By his sentence and sudden will to ignite conversation, although you didn’t mind. “What question?”
Mark’s hand left the steering wheel and dropped to your thigh, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by you. He didn’t move it, but you couldn’t ignore his fingers on your skin. “I asked you, what else do you like?” 
“About you, or in general?”
He shrugged. “Whatever gets you talking.”
You gazed through the windshield, pretending to be pondering deeply. “Well, in general, I like a bunch of things. I’ve got a penchant for poetry and music. This tends to shock people, but parties aren’t my scene. I’m a more reserved person. I love the color blue.” 
“Why blue?”
“Because it looks amazing on me,” you winked. 
“Mm,” Mark glanced at you fleetingly through the rear-view mirror. That was when his fingers started moving, kneading your thigh. “What else?” 
“Hm, well,” you began, pretending to be unbothered by his touch. In reality, you were melting with every move. “About you, there’s a lot for me to like, too. You’re confident, smart, funny, sexy,” then you licked your lips and added, “And an excellent kisser.” 
Mark grinned, hand still massaging your bare skin. “What a sweet-talker you are. Keep going,” he whispered, then gave your thigh a little squeeze. 
But you were honest. There were too many things you admired about Mark that led you to becoming drawn to him in such a little period of time. Just as easily as he had been able to make you tell him things, you had persuaded him into opening up. There was still so much to learn about each other on deeper levels, but time was your best friend. For now, you decided that you would tell him what you already knew. 
“I like the way you put so much care and effort into what you love. I’ve heard you talk about your son, your friends, your job. You never neglect anything,” you confessed, smiling fondly as you recalled the conversations you’d had. “I like how we’re similar, too. I think that’s part of the reason why we feel comfortable moving so fast. We’re cut from the same cloth. We both know what we want and when and how we want it, and we’re not afraid to go get it. It’s like playing a damn game of tug of war whenever I’m with you.”
“Or a very calculated game of chess,” Mark added, shaking his head with amusement. 
You giggled. “But there’s something about you that’s so… alluring. I’m attracted to it. You’re a hardworking borderline control freak that’s unafraid of sincerity. I love it.”
“Romantic. I’m swooning,” he deadpanned, throwing you a playful glare. 
“And you’re the right amount of sarcastic.” 
“And that’s what gets you going?”
“Baby, please. If I could kiss you right fucking now, I would,” you admitted. 
Mark said nothing, but his fingers kept fondling with your flesh, and your breath kept getting out of control. He gave your thigh another reassuring squeeze, letting you know he heard you. 
Forest views took over. You pressed your fingertips to the window glass and watched as the rapid blur of scenes that once consisted of neon city lights turned green. Moss-coated branches replaced them, last rays of sunlight filtering through them as you neared the woods and the gravel roads turned to dirt. 
“Woods, very spooky. Are you gonna kill me and hide my body out here?” you asked him humorously, watching as he drove you through the wild.
Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, “And dump it in the lake.” 
“Lake?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.” 
You did see a lake. Mark parked his car near some trees and once he helped you outside, led you down a trail until you reached a bridge. It was long and stretched above a medium body of water. Blossoming flowers lived in the grass and the scent was earthy. You stretched ever so slightly over the railing and saw yours and Mark’s reflection staring back at you. 
There were little fountains in the lake. Creatures made the water ripple and you watched with Mark’s arm wrapped around your waist as the smell and sound of nature filled your senses. Ducks pecked around the land edges of the lake in hunt of food. 
“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled in awe. The clouds and setting sun peered down on the water and you wished that you had your camera on your person. It was a sight too gorgeous to let become nothing more than a memory fading at the back of your head. 
Mark bobbed his head in agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he said, “It is. I come here from time to time whenever I need to clear my head. It’s a nice place that I’ve always wanted to share with someone.” 
“You trust me enough to share it with me?” you teased, palms on his chest as you gazed up at his face. “I mean, like what if I get arrested for tax fraud and every time you come here all you can think about is your old neighbor that got sent to prison for evading her taxes.” 
“Then, you better do your taxes, or else I’ll be right after you when you get out. For attempted murder.” 
You made a face of faux fear. “Shiver me timbers!” 
Somehow, Mark pulled you closer and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Any closer and you were sure he would be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. It was safe to say that you had a little crush on your neighbor. You wanted him to an extent that words couldn’t capture. 
There was something different with Mark. Linger was the perfect word to describe how his every action affected you. When he kissed you, you could still feel his lips on you moments afterwards. His every touch lingered on you, even the barest ones. You could taste him on you, his scent lingered on your body - it was too much. But Mark was too persistent. Even if you wanted to, and you didn’t, you couldn’t get away. 
Mark looked at you as if he wanted to kiss you, but to your misfortune, he didn’t. Instead his lips parted to say, “Watch the sunset with me.” 
Obediently, you turned to face the railing, which pleased him. He moved behind you and tightened his grip on your waist. 
The sunset was beautiful, even more so with Mark’s company. The two of you made conversation, all the while watching how the sky that was once a pleasant array of colors dulled a deep indigo. The sun descended below the horizon and its reflection in the water was replaced by the moon.
And you - the moonlight illuminated every inch of your face. Mark had always thought that you were gorgeous, but the moonlight made your beauty criminal. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. 
“I can’t control myself anymore,” Mark growled. At first, you were confused, but when he whirled you around and pressed his lips against yours, you quickly understood. 
Mark backed you against the railing, cornering you. Kissing him was too much fun. It was the same battle, the same fervent effort to compel one of you to submit to the other’s touch, yet both of you always held out, keeping your white flags lowered. Mark had never met anyone that challenged him this much, and you had never met anyone so desperate to prove a point. 
When one of you pulled away, you not only were breathing heavily, but dangerously turned on. Your despires were no longer pure wants - they were needs. 
“Mark,” you exhaled through shallow breaths, “Please.” 
Mark cocked a brow, incredulous, yet amused. “You’re begging?” 
You nodded, casting him a needy glance that nearly made him want to give you everything you wanted then and there. It wounded your pride to beg him to do anything, but you weren’t necessarily above it anymore. Lust made you do anything - and it was flowing rapidly through your bloodstream. “Please, I want it.”
That much was entertaining to him, although Mark still didn’t want to give himself to you yet. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to have sex with you, but he wanted to bide his time. He wanted things a specific way and hooking up with you in his car simply wasn’t ideal. 
Mark shook his head. “I’m not fucking you in my car.” 
You pursed your lips and fought back the best way you knew how, huffing, “Why not? Don’t wanna fuck up your expensive seats? Car sex virgin?” 
“My first time was in the back of a car,” Mark told you matter-of-factly, being sure to smile in the most menacing way possible. It was only deserved for the way you left him that day that you kissed him. You wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but you thought he didn’t deserve it. “And everything I wanna do to you can’t happen in a car. You’ve been patient all this time, baby, you can wait a little more.” 
“Ever the elaborate controlling perfectionist are you,” you drawled, faux aggravation to your tone.
Mark entwined his fingers with yours. “But you love that about me.”
“I never said that.”
“Oh? Must I remind you of your little love confession in my car earlier?” he teased. 
You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. But I will be expecting a four-page love letter detailing everything you like about me in the mail signed ‘Markie Pooh’ soon. I like to be courted.” 
Mark gave your forehead a chaste peck, grinning as he joked, “I’ll enclose it with a kiss.” 
You giggled. 
Soon, Mark drove you back home and you were kissing him goodbye. It was a dramatic farewell, considering you lived right next door to him, but tonight had been magical and you were wondering where the time had gone. All you wanted to do was freeze time and kiss Mark on that bridge forever. 
But you were also sick to your stomach that he still wasn’t in your guts. And tonight, you had a plan that would undoubtedly make him snap and give you what you wanted. 
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Last night, you gave yourself the release that your body was begging for, since Mark refused to fulfill your desires himself. And you made sure to be loud so that your intentions were obvious - ever since the last time he asked you to keep it down, you began doing an impressive job at suppressing your noises, muffling them into your pillow or biting your lip. But not last night. You called it being petty for the right reasons. That was what you were, and rather proudly. 
For a little extra flare, you moaned Mark’s name. As much as it was you being petty for the sake of setting him off, it was also a self-indulging experience. Fantasizing about your neighbor was what brought you to the edge quicker than anything, and you came harder than ever with the thought of him on your mind. 
Mark didn’t text you the following day. Usually, you would find time through your hectic work hours to chat, and you would spend the better half of your lunch break typing away at your phone, but it was radio silence. 
It was weird. Maybe you and Mark were alike in more ways than you thought, and he was also extremely petty. But for the wrong reasons, in your opinion. 
When you came home from work, Mark was standing outside his door, waiting. He leaned against it and stared you down. 
“Had fun last night?” 
Pretending to be oblivious as to what he was referencing, you played dumb and answered, “You mean, at the bridge? Of course. When are we going again?” 
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mark chastised, glaring. “I heard you last night. You seemed like you were having a good time, you know, moaning my name and all like a slut.” 
Never had it ever crossed your mind that you would enjoy Mark calling you a slut, yet here you were, becoming more and more aroused the longer you pushed his buttons. With his commitment to patience, you typically never got much fun out of it, but right now he was approaching his limit and you were anticipating every second of it. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, searching for your keys and acting as if you were paying him no mind. 
Mark wasn’t having any of it. For weeks you had all been all over each other, the mutual lust long-established, though now you were suddenly disregarding him and it was with one clear intention in mind. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks, but he would play along with your little game. And he was going to win. 
The little remaining bits of restraint he had suddenly exhausted and Mark gripped your wrists, ignoring the sound of surprise you uttered as he dragged you into his apartment. The door slammed shut in your trail and he pushed you up against it, pinning your arms above your head as he began to kiss you with urgency. 
Kissing Mark was exhilarating. Whenever his lips were flush against yours, it was as if time stopped. Everything seemed to slow down but the dangerously rapid thud of your heart against your chest and the spreading wildfire in your body. You made an attempt to free your wrists from his seemingly tightening touch, writhing against him with desire to touch him, yet whatever strength you had Mark had more and you were unable to overpower his might. 
“Mark,” you exhaled, pulling away to catch your breath. “I want to touch you.” 
He hummed, an idea slithering into his brain. “If you want to so bad, then beg.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly incredulous, yet the feeling dissipated when you remembered who exactly you were talking to. Scowling, you said, “I begged you once and now you’re getting too used to it.” 
“If you want to get your way when it comes to me, then you better start getting used to it. Now, do you wanna get your pretty little hands on me, or not?” 
You sighed. “I do.”
Mark gave you an expecting look. “Then, beg.” 
“You want me to get on my knees, too?” you deadpanned, shooting him a sharp glare that he seemed utterly unbothered by - and it exasperated you. 
The grin on his lips then was infuriating. “Don’t worry, you’ll do that later.” 
Ignoring the very obvious implication of those words, you made a face, but the look in Mark’s eyes when you met his gaze was so goddamn commanding. The dominance to his aura that you had been so intent on destroying was finally getting to you. 
“Please,” you whimpered, trying to ignore how pathetic you sounded. “Let me touch you, Mark, please.” 
Satisfied, Mark let go of your wrists and his lips immediately fell back on yours, the need to kiss you resurfacing. It was like resuming, pressing play and pause. There was something about hearing and seeing you beg - especially against your will - that he found so arousing. You were so resistant to his dominance and it was all too entertaining to see you finally succumb. 
Your hands raced to his shirt and with his own assistance, you hiked it above his head, hands flying to his chest afterwards. For a moment, your eyes opened to ogle at him, wallowing in the sight of his bare skin. Mark began to tug at your blouse and you both began to undress one another, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you both headed to his bedroom. 
By the time you got to his bed, you were stripped down to nothing but your undergarments. Lying flat on your back, you watched as Mark took his sweet time to crawl over you. His hand moved at an agonizingly slow pace from your thighs, to your stomach, to your clothed breasts. You felt as if your breath was stuck in your throat as you anticipated what he would do next, and he finally leaned in your ear, whispering, “You do look good in blue.” 
He kissed you there for a little longer, heated and passionate, then pulled you up and said, “Get on your knees.” 
Submissively, you sank to the floor without a fight, which both pleased and surprised Mark. Though the little sly grin playing on your lips was a good enough indicator that you were planning something. And you were. Any other time you would have refused to listen to him without first making an attack on his pride, but you were skilled with your tongue and had a line of people you’d been with to show for it. 
You were resolved to make him unravel - and you would. 
The bulge of his dick was prominent through his underwear, of which you tugged down in desperate haste. You had wanted a taste of him for only God knows how long. 
His dick sprung against his stomach and by then your mouth was watering. You took him into your palm, smiling up at Mark as you began to leisurely pump him. Your efforts to tease him only became worse, intentionally letting your lips graze the head of his dick every now and then, giving him false hope that you’d finally get to the best part. 
“Don’t tease me, doll. You won’t like what’ll happen if you keep up,” Mark warned. 
“Punish me, Mark,” you said, smiling broadening. 
He wasn’t given the chance to respond before you took his cock into your mouth, a little grunt leaving his mouth instead. You were taking him into your mouth bit by bit, efforts to tease him still lingering. Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and held it behind your neck. 
Mark, a man of patience, was beginning to lose the thing he clung to most. He used your hair to force you down on him some more. “Stop fooling around and take it, baby. Put your mouth to good use for once.” 
In pursuit of spiting him, you fooled around for a moment longer, though finally gave up contentedly after you figured that you’d frustrated him enough. Soon you were steadily bobbing your head up and down his length, cheeks hollowed, his fingers gripping your hair to control your movements to an extent. 
The wet sound of your mouth sucking his dick and his little noises of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom. You smiled to yourself slyly at a thought you were having. Mark was a groaner. 
He sounded heavenly. You were quick to discover his weaknesses, catching on to how he became noisier. Mark wasn’t the loudest guy that you’d been with, fairly moderate, but he was still unable to hide the signs that said loud and clear you were making him feel good. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and saw how pleasure was written all over his face, lips parted and his eyes closing from time to time. 
That drove Mark borderline insane, you peering up at him like that - and you had already known that it would. At the end of the day, Mark was simply a man, after all. And you had men all figured out. 
“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised, pushing your head down a little more. 
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and you stroked him all the while sucking him off, tasting pre-cum on your tongue. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was a pleasure. There was no denying he was close. 
When Mark noticed you slowing down in efforts to tease him, he was displeased and decided that he had enough of your schemes. The loosened, relaxed grip on your hair suddenly tightened and he began to thrust into your mouth, taking control. You were good with your mouth and able to take it deep, but the sudden movement caught you off-guard and you began to gag. 
“Just when I praise you, you decide you wanna be a little fucking brat,” Mark spat, pulling your hair again. “You just can’t listen, can you?”
You glared up at him, tears pricking your eyes, and the sight made him let out a laugh. He knew as well as the next person that you liked acting tough, but with tears in the corners of your eyes and a cock in your mouth, you looked nothing short of pathetic.
He shot you a withering look, adding, “You always act like you have the whole world in the palm of your hands. You try to get under my skin because you want to see me succumb to the same tricks you play on everyone else, but you know I won’t give an inch and you don’t know how to handle it. Wish you could see how pathetic you look when you shut the hell up and take my cock.” 
Right now you wished that he would shut the hell up, but oddly enough, his words were turning you on. You silently prayed that he wouldn’t catch on to how wet you were getting with every passing moment. 
Mark was close. His sentences became raspy, deep groans and his pace was relentless, merciless. Like he was trying to bruise the very back of your throat. It took everything in you not to choke out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction in seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He was already enjoying this too much. 
Mark groaned, “Fuck. You gonna swallow it, babe?”
As a way of saying ‘yes’, you hummed around his shaft and the vibration was making him lose his mind. You swiftly moved one of your palms to wipe at a streak of tears on your cheeks before he noticed. 
You doubted that he did. Mark was in another world, eyes closed as he was overcome by pleasure. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was everything and he was out of control, movements unrestrained. He came in your mouth with a grunt, giving your hair one last violent tug as his climax struck his body. You milked him dry, taking every bit of his cum in your mouth that you could possibly manage. 
There was a noise when you rolled him out of your mouth, looking him in his eyes immediately afterwards. Mark was breathless, and so were you, but he could only smile. 
You gave him a look, voice slightly hoarse from the throat-fucking as you asked, “What?” 
“Nothing,” he replied, smile unfaltering, but it was obviously something. “I’m simply enjoying the way you look with spit and my cum on your lips and chin.” 
You rolled your eyes and wiped yourself clean with the back of your hand. “And I was enjoying the way you looked like you were on the verge of losing your shit.” 
“Funny how you’re only quiet when you have a dick in your mouth.”
Wittily, you retorted, “Maybe I would shut up if you fucked me.” 
Instead of giving you an immediate response, Mark pulled you back onto the mattress, hovering above you as you lay flat on your back. “Mm-hm. That’s why you were moaning my name so loud last night, right? Because you wanted my dick?”
One of his palms slipped underneath the band of your underwear and you let out a little cry of surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against your arousal. You were holding in your breath. It had been so long since anyone had you like this and you were touch-starved, feeling completely deprived of sex and nearly the memory of what it was like. 
His free hand gave a loud, resounding smack to your thigh, and you yelped. “That was a question, doll.” 
“Yes,” you choked out. “Please. I want it so bad, Mark.”
“So wet, all for me,” he sighed with bliss. His fingers were now plunging inside your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. You hadn’t been this wet in ages. “How long has it been since you were last with someone?”
“I don’t know, like three months,” you guessed, not really wanting to think about it when his touch was all you could focus on. “A really long fucking time, basically.” 
Mark made a face, surprised. “No wonder you’re so damn needy.”
His teasing did nothing to help and you were quickly growing impatient. There was no need to explain why it had been so long, you were certain he already knew. With your work schedule there was rarely time to meet new people and you had no one to come home to. But Mark made it too goddamn easy, and considering how hard you worked, you could use a good fuck. 
“It’ll be a year by the time you fuck me,” you grumbled, impatient. What more did he want you to do? You sucked him off, begged, and yet he was still torturing you by resisting. It was like he was deliberately trying to get you to lose your goddamn mind, and knowing Mark, you wouldn’t put it past him. It was working. 
Mark said nothing, looking at you blithely. And hungrily. There was still a layer of clothes obstructing the view of your bare skin, and greedily his hands flew to the band of your underwear. You bit back a whimper at the feeling of being suddenly empty, but Mark tore your panties past your ankles, and your bra immediately followed as he tugged on the straps. 
The sight of your naked body had Mark’s dick throbbing and he swore then that you were Aphrodite. You were driving him past the brink of insanity. He had envisaged your body in his dreams and fantasies, though nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked sprawled out on his sheets and he could only think one thing. Goddamn. 
That was it for him. He was still resolved to tease you to sheer hell, but he could keep playing your games while inside of you.
You made a tiny gasp when you felt the head of Mark’s cock prod your folds. The sight of your pussy was his kryptonite - you were dripping with arousal. You wanted him so badly and he wanted you just as much. He pushed the tip in with a raspy groan and made a couple slow, shallow thrusts. 
Then a couple turned into too many for you to count and you were becoming impatient. More than you already were. “Mark, hurry the hell up,” you grumbled. 
“Mm, no. I think I’ll keep going like this,” Mark teased. After the way you treated him only moments ago, he wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “I told you, you weren’t going to like what happened if you kept teasing me. Now look.” 
Just like he said you wouldn’t, you weren’t liking this. He was agonizingly slow, not deep enough, and it was all deliberate. Karma was a fucking bitch. 
“Fuck you,” you spat, insincere. 
Mark was totally unbothered, seemingly paying you no mind as he replied, “That’s no way to talk to the man who you’re so wet for. Ask me nicely and maybe I��ll reconsider.” 
Holding back a groan in fear of his changing his mind about reconsidering, you tidied up the sentence you were preparing to say to him and fixed your tone. “Mark, can you please move faster?” 
“Don’t you sound so sweet when you ask like a good girl,” Mark sang. Before you could muster a response, he finally thrusted completely into you and you moaned. The way your pussy gripped him was his vice, and you stretched to accommodate his size. 
In no time he also discarded his formerly slow pace and adopted a new, speedier one. The way he was pounding you was so deep and perfect and you grabbed his shoulders, desperately needing something to cling to.
This type of experience used to only exist in your head. More often than not, you winded up touching yourself to the thought of the man before you as a way to cope with your stress and lechery. You would close your eyes and picture his dark hair matted by sweat, his face scrunched up with pleasure. You would imagine the noises that he’d make when he finally felt the grip of your pussy around his dick, the way your body responded to his every touch. It got you off too quick, tempting you to march over to his apartment and demand he finished the job. 
But you never did. You wanted to see him lose his patience - and you did. 
“Pussy’s so damn tight,” Mark groaned, which made you grin smugly. You knew that already. 
Mark leaned low and began to press soft kisses into your skin, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipples. He found you utterly beautiful, no flaw in his eyes. The breathy sounds you were making in response felt like hearing an angel. 
Although you were enjoying yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing and said, “Don’t be gentle with me, baby.”
Mark smiled softly. “I don’t plan to be, doll.” 
When Mark was finished with your breasts, his mouth replaced them, beginning to latch roughly onto your neck. Which made you sigh out in bliss. The feeling of his teeth digging sharply into your flesh made you certain that he was going to leave Mark’s, and you were too fond of it. You wanted Mark to make you his. 
Everything was too much in the best way possible. You were intoxicated by the feeling of Mark’s bare cock between your walls, striking the sweetest parts of you. Your mouth parted in too-loud moans of his name. 
He gripped your throat, looking you dead in the eyes as he commanded, “Be fucking quiet.”
That made you clench around his length. At first, your eyes widened, but you recovered swiftly and your lips curled into a broad smile as you met Mark’s gaze. The look on your face right then made his cock twitch. 
“You like that, huh?” he asked, tightening the grip around your neck. You couldn’t get a single coherent word out, choking, but the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head was more than the perfect answer. 
Mark let go of your throat after a moment and began to watch the way your cunt swallowed him whole. It was satisfying to have you at his disposal like this. He was hell bent on taming you, no matter how many fucks it took; the more the merrier. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt - warm, wet walls clamping tightly around his size - and he knew deep down that there was no way in hell this would be the last time. 
There was no going back. He was set on you; you on him. You were different from anyone he had ever been with before, you were a challenge. Brats were something he never thought he would be fond of, wallowing in the fact that most women bent to his will. But you caught onto his behavior fast and opposed it, resolved to break down his walls, and he was game. Mark never went down without a fight, though neither did you, and he liked it too damn much. 
Taming you was fun. It was something he never knew that he needed until you suddenly came into his life, providing him a little thrill and excitement on a silver platter. You were so much like him that it was all too easy to read you, to find out what made you tick. And making you feel defeated was what he got out of trying to put a leash on your wildness. 
Not too long after, you were moaning in a chant, “Mark,” his words forewarning you to be quiet going in one ear and out of the other. You couldn’t help it. It felt perfect. He was so deep and so thick, making you feel full. 
“Brat,” Mark hissed, shaking his head. But with how utterly disobedient you were he didn’t bother to scold you again, taking matters into his own hands by picking your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “That’ll shut you up.” 
There was an instant sound of protest and likely you cursing at him, considering how you narrowed your eyes at him, but there was no way for him to tell. Mark smiled tauntingly. “Can’t hear you, babe,” he said.
You raised your middle finger in a silent retaliation, but Mark retaliated back even quicker and lifted your hands above your head, pinning them down to the mattress. You felt so fucking powerless, yet Mark had so much power over you and your body. It wasn’t fair. 
It wasn’t long before you could finally sense your orgasm building up, a dam on the very verge of breaking loose. Everything felt otherworldly and you swore that you were no longer breathing. Like you were gone, but your body was still physically alive and well. Pleasure ripped through every last vein in your bare body and consumed it in its entirety, swallowing you in its mass. 
Mark’s pace was merciless, and when he moved one of his hands to wrap around your throat, so was the tight squeeze on both sides. It was damn near bruising and your eyes were fluttering, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were internally begging that he wouldn’t. 
Your panties fell from your mouth and you took the opportunity to ask with a struggle, “Can I please cum, Mark?” 
“Let go for me, babe,” Mark grunted, resisting the urge to comment on how pathetic you sounded asking for permission in your hoarse little voice. It came to him as a pleasant surprise, and a satisfying sound that left his dick throbbing. 
There was no need to tell you twice. You came with one last cry of his name, back arching as you began to come undone. It was explosive, your entire body reacting to the intensity of it. Your toes clenched and your pussy gripped relentlessly around his shaft. You swore that you were beginning to see stars. 
Mark pulled out and came on your stomach with a deep sexy groan, the sight and sound of you at your very climax triggering his own orgasm consecutively. His hands loosened their grip and set you free, and soon you were both lying flat on his bed, panting heavily. 
“So,” he began through shallow breaths, and you braced yourself for whatever he could have possibly said next. “How’s that for a weak dick game?” 
You glanced at him confused, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter after you recalled what he was referencing. You had insulted his game. “I take it back,” you replied. “It’s alright.”
Mark raised a brow. “Just alright? Like I didn’t have to put your panties in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop screaming my name?” 
“I was not screaming.”
“You were screaming. And…,”
Before he could add anything else - and you knew he would, refusing to let you live anything that happened today down - you smashed your lips against his and carded your fingers through his hair, effectively shutting him up. Mark kissed back with joy, smiling against your lips. All of the other kisses that you two shared had consisted of rough, unrestrained attempts at dominating one another, but this was slow and sweet. It was gentle, and dare you say loving. 
“One more round?” you asked when you pulled away. 
Mark snickered. “Don’t tempt me, baby. If we start with one it might become two.”
You licked your lips and grinned. That was useful information. “Nope, I’m tempting you. Now give in.”
Mark gave your lips another kiss, but immediately became distracted once he caught another glimpse of the swell of your breasts. “Damn, baby,” he sighed contentedly, running his hands over the shape. “I just fucking might.” 
Temptations. Oh, how dangerous they were. But caving into them might have been the best decision you’d ever made - and Mark was living proof. 
He was your temptation.
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pjsfvs · 2 months
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breeding kink hc - Mark Lee
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paring : husband!mark x afab!reader
warnings/tags : very nsfw, mentions of pregnancy, oral sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluff, breeding kink, Mark going AT it
summary : mark will do whatever it takes to get you pregnant.
a/n : this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday on 1/27 but i posted the Sunoo hc instead. Also, if you have any requests, you can leave them in my inbox! and don't leave hate comments for me to see. if you don't like it just block me and leave.
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Having a child together was always something Mark and you knew would happen for you. Brushed lightly on the subject, you clearly remember the way Mark’s eyes would light up when you’d mentioned earlier in your relationship, that you wanted children.
Now, married in bliss with your second anniversary approaching, Mark had started to get a little impatient. You both knew you wanted to get pregnant eventually but hadn’t quite decided concretely exactly when just yet.
For Mark, a family always seemed a distant dream. However, when you’d walked into his life, he knew he wanted it with you.
In the beginning of your relationship, you used condoms during sex. It worked at the time, but eventually, after a conversation together, you decided you’d get yourself on birth control. Mark and you were pretty serious, had a solid foundation for your relationship and knew you wanted to be together for the rest of your lives,
And part of you wanted to take that step in your relationship; no matter how minor it may be. Sex was already something so intimate between you two, but to remove the barrier of a condom and really feel each other closer? It felt natural. Felt like something you trusted each other with.
Little did you know, that decision would spark a little something in your man…
For Mark, the first time you’d had sex using birth control, he swore he fell a little further for you [if it was even possible]. To know you trusted him to cum inside, that you weren’t scared, or fearful of anything going wrong meant so much to him.
Often during sex, he’d find himself thinking how much power his seed really had. On birth control, his cum buried deep inside your cunt meant nothing more than the mutual trust you two shared, a symbol of how deep your relationship had gotten.
But if you were off birth control? If the sex was unprotected?
Mark’s cum held great power. He could put a baby in you. Your baby, that you made with the embodiment of love your bodies yield to each other. The thought alone made Mark shiver each time, shuddering with a tingle of anticipation when he’d spill his hot loads inside you each night.
“Mark?” You’d asked one night, after a steamy quickie before bed. You rested your head on his bare chest as he heaves down from his high, a heavy palm rested to the bare skin of your exposed back.
“Yeah, baby?” He returns, kissing the top of your tousled hair softly. His palms are gently soothing over your bare hips, the same hips that would someday, hopefully carry the live of your child.
And that same night, the conversation happened. You’re both ready for a baby, you both want a baby with each other.
Mark is ecstatic, can’t wait to watch your pregnant belly grow as he showers his love on you, taking care of you each step of the way. Mark is already the perfect husband, and you best bet that it would heighten tenfold when you’re pregnant.
You have sex every single day now, sometimes multiple times a day. Sex with Mark was always fantastic, always had you practically on the verge of tears to how well he’d fuck you when he needed to, how well he’d make love to you when he needed to. If anyone knows how to strike the perfect balance, it’s Mark Lee.
“You gonna give me a baby, kitten?” Mark rasps, hastily pounding into your needy cunt from above. His biceps rest on either side of you and they look massive this way, a dark, almost primal darkness in his eyes on some nights like this. You’ve been trying for about a month now, and Mark is growing impatient. Part of him fears deep inside that as always, something will go wrong; deprive him from the life he wants with you. You make sure to assure him, however. Assure him that it’ll happen for you.
“Ye-yes baby, put a baby in me Mark…” You whimper, begging underneath him, soft legs tightly wrapped around his waist to give him optimal access to your deepest parts. Mark’s cock twitches inside you, and you know he’s close. Every single time, you shake and shudder to the feel of being pounded by him, the way his creamy, succulent cum fills up inside you to the brim.
It baffles you the amount of cum the man carries, how much he spills after each fuck. You can definitely feel him fill you up and it turns you on so fucking bad as you desperately pull him close, peppering needy kisses all over his face as he makes you cum as well.
“They say the more orgasms you have, the better the chances of getting pregnant.” Mark whispers, slowly delving between your drenched thighs. He licks a long stride up your aching pussy before circling sloppy, wet circles to your clit. You’re not sure if Mark’s theory is 100% accurate. Nonetheless, you know Mark thrives off making you feel good, he wants you to enjoy the process more than him. After all, you are the one who’s going to be carrying your baby for months on end, bearing all the pain and discomforts that come your way.
It does pull at your heartstrings how much Mark cares, how desperate he is fulfilling the deed of getting you pregnant.
If on your bed, before sex, Mark puts a pillow under your hips to angle them up slightly while he pumps in and out. “Can’t have any drip out,” He smirks, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as his throbbing cock stays positioned inside you, cocooned by your warm, pulsing walls after release.
Cockwarming has become almost a daily occurrence. After he’s came inside you, Mark keeps his girthy member inside your cunt for a couple of minutes as you both come down from your highs. He’ll rest his head in the haven of your breasts, arms wrapping around you as you pull him close, kissing his head to happy dreams of this wonderful, loving man fathering your children someday.
Mark insists that you have sex a couple times a day, and you fear he’ll eventually get sick of having you if you don’t slow down a little
“I’ll never get sick of you,” He whispers into your neck, softly kissing the skin as his arms hold you so dearly tight. “I love you, you know that, right?”
“I do.” You whisper, cupping his cheek. Mark is the sweetest man you know, and you best believe he’s only gotten sweeter since you’ve started trying.
Sometimes, when lounging next to each other, or when he’d come up behind you in a tender hug as you cook breakfast, Mark rests his hands on your belly; dreaming of how heartfelt it would be the day your baby would be in there,
“You’re gonna look so beautiful sweetheart, carrying our baby.” His deep baritone would soothe in your ears as he slams into you, your breasts bouncing to his pace as his hips snap into you hard, senselessly. His balls slam your core so hard each time, and the sounds of skin slapping skin fill the house very often nowadays. “Gonna show you off to the entire world,” He moans, cupping your breasts & kneading them with a firm force, yet cautious not to hurt you, as his mind drifts to the thought of how full they’d look, swollen holding milk
Mark and you have possibly tried every sex position there is at this point. Doggy style? Mark fucks into like a rabbit from behind, cock grinding your cervix to the deepest parts before slipping out entirely, only to plummet back in
Your legs on his shoulders as he fucks into you relentlessly? It’s one of his “trying to conceive” favourites, allows his sperm to take advantage of gravity
Face to face lying beside each other? Mark practically melts each time you do this one. The entry of his cock is so deep this way as you hold each other’s gazes, your leg draped over his waist as his arms pull you closer, rosy skin flushed together with a thin layer of sweat.
From behind as you lay on your stomach? Mark’s eyes roll to the back of his head in this one. He enters you from behind, pounding in as he grinds your g-spot repeatedly, almost always giving you two orgasms before he cums deep, deep inside.
Did I mention how loud Mark is when he cums
He moans, throaty groans fleeing his lips as he practically growls in your ear. The way you clench around him is too much, your pussy is too tight; too warm and he’s far too in love with your body (and all of you, ofc). Far too drunk on thoughts of pounding you pregnant for him.
Sometimes Mark can get so dirty while fucking you.
It surprises you sometimes that your sweet, loving, wholesome husband can say such sinful things
“Gonna make a baby come out of that tight little pussy.” He drips, biting small love marks into your skin as he thrusts, marking your body as his breeding ground.
I mean he is a literal assassin so you do get that he can be a bit brutal sometimes
He tracks your periods and the days you’re most fertile (not that it matters too much since he fucks you into oblivion each day haha) but on days where you’ve ovulating, he makes sure to go deeper, harder, and get in multiple rounds for optimal chances of conceiving.
Mark cumming inside is so special now. You can’t help but shiver each time you feel him explode deep within you, knowing that that load might be the one to do the trick.
You’re an advocating member of the “Make Mark a daddy 2024” campaign.
And when your period is late…you tell Mark with beaming eyes and swear you’d seen a glistening glow in that chocolate gaze, unlike anything you’d ever seen before.
You buy multiple tests together, Mark's hand holding yours the entire time. The thought that your baby might be growing inside you, right now, this second as you stand at the checkout counter has his smiling like a goofy idiot.
Your goofy idiot, of course :)
You take the tests together in the master bathroom of your bedroom. Mark is on edge and you have to hold his hand to reassure him, explaining to him that if its only a false alarm, you’ll keep trying because you want this with him. You need this with him.
You want a family and it’s never going to change.
But when all the tests come back positive, Mark is on the brink of tears.
You both are, holding each other tighter than ever as you both cry into each other’s necks, kneeling in a bundle of cuddles on the bathroom floor. Mark kisses each inch of your face, peppers delicate kisses to your tousled hair, offering squeezes to your hand when you let out a soft sniffle at the sheer happiness.
This is a moment that will forever be engrained in your minds.
It was finally happening; you made a baby.
You’ve never seen Mark this happy before, feeling as if everything in his life has finally fallen into place. This is what all the pain, all the hurt, all the sin that lingers in the shadows of his past had been leading up to. A family with you, free of evil, free of any grim that lingers.
A life where the only Mark Lee that the world knows, is the Mark who loves and is loved by his wife, and the Mark who is a father.
The most loving, caring, amazing father he could ever be.
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primehyuck · 6 months
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dress
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aka Mark thinks you look really pretty tonight (very “only bought this dress so you could take it off” / “can we hear it for the dress” esque )
word count: 3.5k
contents : pretty much pure smut, pussy worship, soft dom mark, oral (f receiving) , body worship - mark thinks you’re REALLY REALLY pretty, mirror sex (kind of), lots of pet names, established relationship, mark seduced me as i was writing this
“Don’t you look pretty?” Mark smirks at you from where he leans against the door frame and you smile softly at him in the mirror, taking off the jewelry you’d worn to dinner with your friends that evening. You place the items gently inside the white vanity he’d had made for you when you moved in together the year before.
“Thanks, baby.” you take him in, fresh out of the shower in sweats and a big t-shirt. He looks too hot for his own good, his hair the longest it had been since you’d met, freshly bleached strands curling over his eyes.
“Did you have fun?” He slinks up behind you, warm fingers toying with the thin strap holding your dress in place, his left hand shutting the top of the vanity before pressing heavy to the front of your hip.
You nod “It was nice to have some girl time, as much as I love spending evenings with the boys.” you scrunch your nose earnestly, thinking of Mark’s best friends who had treated you like family since day one.
“I’m glad, though you should have seen the look on Jisung’s face when he learned you’d be at dinner with your old roommate and he was stuck cooking for the rest of us” he murmurs and you can feel the smile on his face as he rests his cheek on your shoulder. The combination of his warm breath on your neck and thick lashes blinking over your skin makes you shiver “I was sad that I missed you before you left.”
“We ended up going for a cocktail before dinner,” you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair and he lets go of the dress strap to trace up the inside of your arm. Mark turns his head to press his lips to your shoulder, pretty brown eyes blinking at you in the mirror once before skimming down the reflection of your body.
His gentle fingers drifting over your arm make your skin tingle and you can hardly breathe when he grips your bicep firmly, supporting your arm as he kisses over the shape of your shoulder, all the way to your elbow and back up again.
“Is this new?” He mumbles, the hand on your hip moving to tug at the hem of your dress. You nod, and he smiles before guiding your raised arm down to rest at your side, fingers lacing through yours. You watch in the mirror as he drags his nose into the crook of your neck, tilting your head to the side to make space for him there.
“Pretty,” his eyes catch yours in the mirror again.
“You already said that.” you tease weakly, failing to keep your breathing under control.
“My bad,” Mark chuckles quietly, left hand stretching to rub your thigh, no effort needed to hike the short dress up enough to expose your panties “I mean, you look gorgeous. Good enough to eat.”
You're surprised your knees don't buckle when he shifts his hand between your thighs to cup your clothed core.
“You think?” You mumble, turning to face him rather than his reflection. He blinks slowly at you, nodding once before his lips are on yours.
His kiss fills your lungs and you both moan. The fingers that were warming your core finds your shoulder to spin you toward him without loosening his grip on your hand. He presses you against the vanity, free hand finding a home on the back of your neck while he brings your joined fingers down, rubbing over where his cock strains against his pants. Your dress rides up to your hips when he pushes your ass firmly onto the surface of the custom table, lanky fingers digging into your skin.
“You’ll have to let me take you somewhere in this, love showing you off” he mumbles against your lips before trailing his own over your chin and down your throat “somewhere I can fuck you while you're wearing it.” You feel his cock jump at his own words, arching your chest into him when he licks gently over the swell of your breast on display beneath the low cut neck of the dress.
“Anytime,” you gasp, the hand not pressed between your bodies pulling gently at his hair in an effort to bring his mouth to yours again. He complies easily, pushing your intertwined knuckles into your clothed pussy and you feel him rut against your forearm at the damp spot growing there.
“Shit, the thought of me fucking your perfect pussy in public turns you on that much?” He stops kissing you for a second to tease meanly before taking both of his hands away from your body and you have to plant yours on the vanity to stop your head from banging into the mirror behind you.
“I want you to fuck me now” you pout, reaching pathetically for the fabric of his baggy clothes, but he’s just out of reach. You huff at him, quickly going for your own dress.
“Be patient baby, please. You’ve been able to see yourself all night.” he tuts, having to step between your legs to hold your wrists still “let me spend some time with the dress, too.”
You whimper when he drags your hips to the edge of the sleek wood to grind you against him, “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”
You take advantage of his hands being on your hips to wrap your fingers through his damp hair, dragging his mouth to yours. Mark’s hands are everywhere; pulling your dress up to your waist, leaving hot prints in the wake of his fingers, gliding over the skin of your thighs before hooking beneath your knees to keep your legs open. When you try to wrap your arms around his neck he easily pulls out of your desperate grasp, but you can see the wanton look in his heavily lidded eyes.
“Gonna make you feel as good as you look,” he rasps and you nod eagerly. His fingers drag over the straps of the dress before deciding against it, leaving your upper body covered “If that's even possible.”
He pulls you off of the vanity and guides you to the bed, keeping your body flush to his until he lays you back onto the mattress. The mirror hanging on the wall above the desk tilts down so you can see your reflection from the edge of mattress, the way Mark had specifically designed it.
“That’s better, want you to watch.” he smiles, glancing behind him to make sure the only part of yourself you can't see is what he's blocking with his own body as he drops to his knees between your legs. He rubs the heel of his palm into your clothed center, fingers digging into your pubic bone while he peppers kisses up your legs. His hand keeps your hips from bucking up when he licks heavily into the crease of your thigh before he moves his palm to press a wet, open mouthed kiss to your underwear. He sucks the fabric between his lips before his strong fingers pull your underwear up tight against your pussy to perfectly outline your already engorged clit and Mark’s cheek rests heavily where his mouth had just been on your thigh.
“Shit, baby.” he groans, stretching the fabric of your underwear in his fist, shifting it side to side and watching your lips move with it “I did this to you?” he asks gruffly, face sliding further up your leg until you can feel his breath on your soaked core.
You choke out a weak affirmation as he releases your panties, moaning when the stretched out fabric sticks to you. Your whole body shudders when he leans forward, nosing over your clit and inhaling deeply, dark lashes fluttering prettily against his cheeks.
“Mark, please-“ you gasp when he opens his mouth fully over you, dragging your panties away from your skin with his teeth and sucking at the ruined fabric.
Sometimes Mark feels a little pathetic between your legs, completely intoxicated, essentially trying to drink the taste of your pussy off of your underwear. The fact that he's so desperate for you, and yet he still has complete control never fails to inflate his ego, and as always it has his dick straining painfully against his sweats.
He moves the limp fabric to the side and uses two eager fingers to pull you apart, exposing your clit and Mark swears he sees it pulse, the idea making pre-cum leak from his dick like a broken faucet.
“Could stare at this pretty pussy all day,” he murmurs, not even looking up at you “but then I wouldn’t be able to taste it.”
You both let out sighs of relief when his tongue finally makes contact, laving over your wet folds. He moves urgently, wanting to touch you everywhere but settling with one hand palming gently over your inner thigh, the other keeping your hole open for his tongue to fuck into. When you open your eyes to look down you see his own closed gently, blissed out as he sucks your clit into his mouth.
Your eyes flicker toward the mirror, gaze following the firm circles Mark is tracing into the skin of your thigh, the callouses from hours of guitar make goosebumps rise on your skin. You wish he’d take his shirt off, the black material stretches over his strong shoulders as he moves his mouth over your pussy. You lace your fingers through his blonde waves, his moan vibrating through you when you tug at his scalp. He moves his mouth over you with intention, wetting his chin and nose as he buries into you, never spending too much time in one spot in an effort to spend as long between your legs as possible.
“Fuck, baby, I’m already so close.” you gasp, the few minutes of teasing wound you up like a clock, the gentle flick of his tongue over your clit enough to make your entire body shake. He looks up at you, blonde curls getting caught in his lashes. The deep brown of his hungry eyes is almost enough to make you cum until he suddenly pulls away.
“No, no, no,” you wiggle yourself toward his mouth and he has to close his eyes for a moment to restrain himself, wanting almost nothing more than to make you cum on his tongue over and over and over.
“Needy girl,” he leans away from you and you whine again until you realize it’s to tug his shirt off and toss it to the side. Both hands press back into your legs as soon possible, rubbing over your shins and thumbing into the pit of your knee before gliding up your inner thigh.
“You’re teasing me.” you pant, your own hand threatening to sneak down to rub over your spit soaked clit but he stops you, glaring.
“I don’t think so, baby.” he deadpans “you can make this easy or you can make this hard.”
“I make you hard.” You smirk, attitude overpowering your need to orgasm and Mark tilts his head in surprise.
“You know eating your pretty pussy does more than just make me hard.” He raises an eyebrow, reminding you gently of all the times he’s cum from grinding into the mattress while going down on you “makes me fucking crazy.”
Your breathy laugh turns to a moan when he puts his mouth back on you, nose buried in your skin. He drapes your thighs over his bare shoulders and it takes what feels like less than a minute of his tongue rolling over your clit to get you right back to where you were. You groan angrily when he pulls away again.
“Why?” you can barely get the word out, feeling your legs move up as your boyfriend shrugs beneath them.
“I told you to watch” his arms reach from around the outside of your legs so one hand can push your chin, directing your eyes to the mirror while the other drifts over the soft silk of the dress that might as well be suffocating you. You watch the muscles in his back flex, your toes pointing to dig into his shoulder blades.
He follows your gaze, guiding your leg down onto the mattress and shifting his tosro out of the way so you can see yourself, swollen and wet from the torment of his mouth.
“Tell me what you see.” He commands softly, the hand supporting your leg moves quickly to rub over your soaked center and you blush when you realize you can hear his fingers gliding over you. You both watch the reflection of his middle and ring finger slowly pushing into you. You’re so wrapped up trying to keep your eyes from fluttering shut that you barely notice the way his breathing quickens, mouth dropping open slightly, cock twitching as your pussy sucks his fingers in.
“I see you-“ you begin to choke out but he shakes his head, crooking his fingers up into your g-spot and cutting you off.
“No baby, tell me what you look like.” He turns his head to kiss the thigh still draped over his shoulder, fingers hooking up and dragging over your g-spot at a painfully slow pace.
“I look, fucked,” you moan when he nibbles at the soft skin his lips just passed over “desperate.”
“Hmm, what else?” He dips his head in to press his swollen, pink lips to your clit, smiling when you squeak weakly “tell me what I want to hear, angel.”
“I look,” you whine again, back arching off the mattress when he takes his fingers out of your fluttering walls in favor of rubbing them over your clit, so gently you’re not even sure you’d be able to feel it if you weren’t so worked up “pretty.”
You watch the back of his head nod in agreement, stroking his fingers over your clit in a lazy circle before dipping down into you once and traveling back up.
“That’s right,” He coos, free hand groping at your tits, thumb brushing over your perked nipple as best as he can through the layers covering your upper body “what makes you so fucking pretty?”
“My mouth,” you whimper, relief washing through your body when he keeps his fingers inside of you “my tits,” your hand reaches to cover his and he smiles up at you, expectant eyes waiting for one more answer “my pussy. You make me feel so pretty, Mark.”
His chin and nose are covered in your slick, moaning at the taste when he licks over his lips, forehead falling weakly onto your pubic bone, rubbing his nose against your throbbing clit as he nods in agreement.
“My gorgeous girl, every part of you is too fucking pretty for me” He moves back to face your body again, taking his fingers from your pussy and replacing your knee over his shoulder, reaching up to meet his other hand on your chest. He palms at your breasts through the dress, shoulders breathing heavily beneath your legs while he curses himself for not at least taking your bra off, dying to tug at your nipples beneath the silky fabric. Sometimes his attempts to edge you become self-torturous, but the way your whole body shivers when he rubs his nose into your clit harder makes it worth it.
You test his patience by pushing at his head, trying to get his mouth back where you want it and he concedes, but let’s go of your breasts to traps both wrists in a single hand. His pink tinged cheeks make your heart skip a beat as you watch him rub his face in your pussy, sucking your clit into his mouth eagerly before licking back down into your hole.
“Please, please, please,” you beg and he looks up at you with those pretty brown eyes when he hears your teeth chatter, pulling away with a moan that makes your back arch toward his mouth. He drops your wrists, unable to stop himself from palming over his pants, pre-cum forming a wet spot on the crotch almost as soon as he dropped to his knees for you.
“I got you, baby.” His voice is barely audible over the ringing in your ears. He uses the hand that isn’t on his dick to spread you as far apart as his fingers can manage “fuck, look at that pretty clit.” he’s sure of it now, your clit is literally pulsing, body begging for an orgasm that he can’t wait to taste. He glances up at your shivering figure, straps of your dress fallen off either shoulder, chest rising and falling dangerously quick.
A cool blow of air through his pursed lips surprises your system, entire body spasming as your orgasm hits. You think you hear your boyfriend’s “no fucking way” before his tongue starts fucking eagerly into your dripping pussy, pressure from his nose on your clit making sure the orgasm lasts so long you have to push him away.
“That was fucking incredible, I didn’t even touch you” Mark stands, stripping off his pants and forcing himself into you before you have the chance to take a breath.
“Oh my god,” you gasp at the same time he chokes out “so fucking tight”, making quick work in stripping you to rub his hand over your chest. His head falls back, mouth falling open when the aftershocks of your orgasm make you squeeze around him.
“Kiss, please.” you have pins and needles in your fingers when you lift them to his shoulders, pulling him toward you eagerly to catch his mouth. A sturdy hand cups your cheek, kissing you deeply as he begins to move his hips. His tongue is hot and heavy on yours as he fucks into you, catching every short inhale in his mouth. You want to cry when he pulls away, but are quickly overwhelmed by how fucking good he looks.
His strong chin juts out when he stares down to where his cock slides in and out of you with eyes so heavy you’d think they were closed if he didn’t mumble something about “your pretty pussy was made for me, so fucking wet”. His abs are drawn in tight, your arousal shining on the skin of his lower stomach and you reach out to touch him, dragging your fingers over the dark patch of hair growing below his belt line. He slows his assaulting pace to lean into your touch, grabbing your wrist and drawing your slick soaked fingers up his chest and into his mouth, sucking lewdly and shutting his eyes. His hair is a mess thanks to your desperate hands, sweat dripping down the side of his neck.
“So fucking dirty baby, know I'm addicted to the way you taste,” he grunts, dropping your hand in favor of spreading your legs as far as he can “the way you feel.” He slows his hips almost to a stop, dragging his cock out of you intently, listening to the sopping suction sound you make together when he slides back inside just as slow.
“Hear that, pretty baby, how much your pussy needs me?” eyes focused on where the angry, pink head of his cock prods at your entrance “can’t believe you’re real, and you’re all mine.”
“All yours,” you whisper, not trusting your voice “all yours.” his lips pull up smugly, but his eyes shine with adoration as he brings his thumb up to your mouth and watches you eagerly suck on the digit before dragging it down your quivering stomach to land on your clit.
“That’s right,” he can’t help the deep groan that tears from his chest at the look on your face when he starts to rub in smooth circles, your eyes fluttering shut “shit, you’re so fucking pretty. Look at yourself, want you to see what I see.”
He forces your eyes toward the mirror, hips picking up speed again while his thumb stays working over your swollen clit.
“Fuck, you��re gonna make me cum baby. Always make me feel so fucking good.” you moan at his words, thighs clenching around his hips “need you to cum with me, show me that you can take it all.” he practically begs, and you feel white hot pleasure shoot up your spine, the pace of his hips and thumb on your clit working easily with his hot words in your ear.
You make a noise between a moan and a scream, nails leaving indents in his shoulders, grinding your hips up toward his sloppily. His bicep shakes under his weight, fucking into you viciously, eyes focused on the blissed out look on your face that he knows is because of him.
“That’s it, take that fucking cock baby, take it.” all you can hear beneath his words is static sound when you feel him tense before he thrusts into you for a final time.
You can’t even hold your eyes open when he drops to his forearms to grab your flushed cheeks, kissing you lazily, letting you melt into him while he softens inside of you. You hum happily when his soft lips drag over your nose and cheeks, compliments falling on ringing ears and for a second Mark is nervous that he broke you.
“You okay, baby?” he rubs gently at the mascara smeared under your glazed over eyes and you smile softly up at him with a nod
“So good,” you assure him, lifting your neck to kiss him again and he happily obliges, laughing against your lips as you cage him in with your legs when he tries to pull out, murmuring a genuine “don’t go.” that makes his heart flutter in his chest.
“Not going anywhere, don’t worry.” he promises.
———
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hazyhae · 3 months
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roomie high | lmk
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stoner!roommate!mark -> roommates to ???
summary: looking for a weed-friendly roommate lands you in a living situation with mark lee. you find it harder and harder to mask your attraction to the man, and soon find that weed isn't the only thing you'll be getting high on.
wc: 3.8k 18+ mdni
cw: afab!gn!reader, weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, unprotected penetrative sex but he pulls out, oral (reader receiving), baby as petname, mark calls reader dude, reader calls mark markie, instigator friend haechan, masturbation, slight voyeurism (mark catches reader mb), multiple orgasms
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when you asked around if any of your friends knew anyone looking for a weed-friendly roommate, you didn’t expect to end up living with mark lee of all people.
you and mark weren’t friends per se, but you weren’t exactly strangers either. you had mutual friends and the two of you always exchanged a wave whenever in the same area, but you’ve never actually talked. you knew his name because of your friends, and you assumed it was the same for him.
what sets you apart is the fact that you’ve been attracted to him since the first time you saw him light up a joint at one of your mutual friend’s hangouts.
you remember the way his eyes never left the person he was talking to as he inhaled, taking a second to let it settle before turning his head to blow it off to the side.
the vision of him engulfed in a hazy cloud of smoke has not since left your mind, wishing you were the person reflected in his glossy eyes.
when you had to find another apartment after your lease ended due to their newly-implemented no-smoking policy, your only criteria for a new roommate was a) not being a murderer and b) weed-friendly.
you had asked your friends at another one of the hangouts, and your loud-mouthed friend haechan knew just the perfect person to ask.
you cringe, remembering how he called mark over with a loud voice. you were face to face with the person you had been admiring for a while, as a potential roommate no less, and haechan’s loud mouth blabbered on about your situation until you made him shut up.
mark lived in a two bedroom apartment, and his old roommate moved in with their partner, so he needed someone to fill the empty room. he was honestly perfect for your situation.
“i mean, i’m cool with it, if you are..?” mark asked, beady eyes staring into yours. you felt like you were dreaming.
“..yeah, we can talk about it after today,” you had responded, chiding yourself for the awkward pause. you needed to find a new place to live fast, and as far as you knew, mark lee was no murderer.
and so you sealed your fate to live with the object of your affections.
if you thought mark was attractive before living together, it’s even harder now to hide your attraction now that you’ve gotten to know him better.
4 months of living together has given you plenty of time to bond, and at some point you do find yourself becoming more comfortable with mark. you find your work schedules align pretty well, so you often end your nights with a meal and a smoke session.
you think back on the first time you smoked together.
“hey dude, uh.. house-warming smoke?” he had asked shyly with his cute lopsided grin after you had finished moving in the last of your things. his eyes were darting around, holding a shoebox you assume held his weed supplies.
never being one to turn down a smoke, you accepted, and it took everything in you not to stare. the way he rolled the joint so quickly with a concentrated face had you questioning your self control. how can someone be so endearing?
weed always does the job of breaking the ice, and after passing back the joint back and forth, you found yourself in comfortable conversation with your new roommate. thus settled your new routine.
as much as you told yourself afterwards to keep it cool, it’s kind of hard now that you see that same sight that made you fall for the man in the first place almost every night in your living room. and now you are the person in his sights.
it’s so easy for you and mark get lost in your high thoughts, and the conversations often go until the late hours of the night. a lot of those nights, the two of you will knock out cold on the couch.
while you think your platonic connection could help you to calm your feelings down, these times you bond with him only lead to the opposite.
everything about mark when he’s high gets you riled up.
his glazed over, hooded eyes, the deep breaths he takes as he lets his high settle, the deep groans that leave him when when he stretches after being sunk into the couch for too long.
it all goes straight to between your legs.
you’re ashamed to admit it, but a lot of the times after mark’s knocked out for the night, you can’t help but stumble into your bed, shoving your hand between your thighs to relieve the ache that is a direct result of mark lee.
it all feels so different when you’re high. your senses are heightened, feeling the pads of your own lubricated fingers running up your slit thinking of the man who made you this wet, wishing it were his fingers instead.
you find that you always cum a little harder when it’s mark on your mind, and after some point, you can cum only thinking about him.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
after another night of smoking and relieving your sexual frustrations after he’s fallen asleep, you feel of twinge of guilt when you wake up to a groggy mark in the living room.
it’s difficult to act like everything’s normal when there’s nothing more you want than for him to stuff you full.
“if you’re making coffee can i also get a cup, please? i’m gonna be fighting for my life at work today..” he asks while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. he’s just so cute, and you just feel even more ashamed at the not-so-innocent thoughts you constantly have about him.
you head to work for the day, and towards the end of your shift in comes the very friend that got you into this living arrangement.
“so have you fucked your roomie yet?” haechan teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“hyuck, i’m going to need you to stop talking.” you glare at him.
“what?? i’m not the one making goo-goo eyes at mark fucking lee,” haechan snaps back too quickly.
“i swear if you say a fucking word to him, you’re dead.” you start to inch closer to him.
“i’m just trying to support you, my friend. i heard his dick is hu-”
you slap your hands over his mouth. “let’s stop it right there.”
haechan bursts into laughter at your anger, and you want to kick him out but this shift has already drained all your energy.
just as haechan is about to start teasing, you see a very familiar head of blonde hair making its way to you.
“mark?? what are you doing here?” you are surprised to see him at your work place. he’s only been here a couple of times and he always texted you before he would come.
haechan daps up mark, looking between the two of you with a grin.
“i got outta work a little early so i thought i’d come by and we can get take out for dinner on the way home?” as much as you see him at your apartment, something about him coming to get you from work just feels so intimate.
“take out sounds good with me!” haechan butts in a little too happily before you can say anything.
you and mark give him a look. it’s not the first time he’s invited himself over. he’s smiling at the two of you for a moment before laughing again.
“i’m just kidding guys, you should see the looks on your faces.” he turns on his heel to head back to his own apartment. “wouldn’t want to interrupt anything, see you later cuties!”
your friend is gone before either of you can say anything. mark looks confused, and your face burns at haechan’s insinuations that there’s anything going on that he’d be interrupting.
“wha- interrupting? interrupting what?” mark turns to you with a confused face.
even his confusion you find endearing, but you are quick to change the subject. “he’s just being stupid, what do you wanna get for dinner?”
mark nods, chuckling. “hmm i don’t know. what do you want?” he responds, mind trying to settle on a dinner spot.
you. i want you. your thoughts ring.
“let’s get some noodles from down the street, i’ve been craving them.” you push your desires to the back of your mind and get excited at the thought of the comfort food. mark smiles warmly at you.
“sure, it’s on me tonight!” he offers excitedly. your face gets warm.
“thank you, markie.”
“anything for you.” his voice is just a bit too tender for your heart to take.
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at home, the two of you light up before digging into your food, but something about mark today is a little different.
he’s always nice, but he’s going out of his way to be even nicer.
it’s a little too cold in your living room, and he goes to his room to put on a hoodie. to your surprise, he also brings one back for you. when he sees your confused face when he hands it to you, he starts sputtering.
“oh shit, uhh, wait my bad you totally could’ve just gotten one of yours.” you shake your head, feeling grateful and also wanting to seize the opportunity.
“no, i’ll take yours, too lazy to get up. thank you,” you beam at him.
settling into the couch, you’re having trouble lighting the joint, so he puts it in his own mouth, lighting it before holding it up to your lips so you can take a hit.
he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you, or maybe he does, but you’re too caught up in the feeling of being wrapped in mark’s scent, cuddled into his hoodie as you slowly hotbox the apartment.
it’s a friday night, so you two can smoke as much as you want, having the weekend off. and smoke you do.
as the night progresses, the two of you have made your way through 3 joints, and mark holds his pipe in hand ready to light up a bit more.
you’re honestly both high as shit, and you both know it too. every little thing on the tv is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen, and your noodles are long gone.
you look at mark through hooded lids, admiring how he takes a long drag from his pipe, handing it to you before letting the smoke seep from his lips. you take a hit and set it down.
“i’m about to be glued to this couch for the next 24 hours,” mark drawls out. he readjusts himself on the couch, letting out a sound that’s a borderline moan, and it doesn’t escape your ears.
if only he knew that was the icing on the cake sending you back to your room to take care of the growing aching between your legs. mark slowly dozes off, softly snoring, and you know that’s your cue to escape to bed.
you wobble into your room, the high still fresh and raging as you lazily push your door to close and immediately settle into bed with your hand shoved into your pants.
mark’s smell is still very much so embedded into his hoodie, and it only serves to heighten your imagination.
your mind jumps to a vision of mark and you on the couch, with you bouncing on his cock as he lets out his delicious groans into your ear.
you think of his tender, “anything for you,” from earlier today, and how much of a gentleman he was. it just riles you up more as you insert your fingers into your entrance.
when mark falls asleep after smoking, he’s knocked out cold for the night, so you aren’t worried about him waking up. you think you’re holding your voice back, but your mind is hazy from the weed and your moans are not as quiet as you think.
mark is fast asleep on the couch, but a sudden vibration of his phone laying on top of his chest jolts him awake.
“what the…” he rubs his eyes, moving to get up and go to his room to lay in the comfort of his bed. he’s still so high, and he almost misses a soft cry coming from the direction of your room. almost.
he turns his head to your room, seeing your door slightly open with the warm light from your bedside lamp peaking through. he thinks he’s hearing things until he hears it again.
but it’s not just a cry, it’s the sound of a name.
his name. in your voice.
“m-mark. oh fuck, mark.”
there’s no way what he thinks is going on is happening, but as he approaches the door, his suspicions are not only confirmed by the repetition of his name, but the view of you that comes into his vision.
you’re on your bed, wearing only his hoodie and underwear that currently houses your hand. your legs are spread and your head is thrown back as you moan out his name.
mark’s mouth goes dry, and he immediately feels himself harden. this can’t be a high dream, right? he pinches himself. nope, not a dream.
he swallows thickly as he processes everything going on in front of him. sober mark would be more hesitant, but high mark says fuck it. you’re literally calling out to him.
you don’t even notice your roommate come in until you feel a dip in your bed. you gasp, immediately closing your legs as your head snaps up to make eye contact with the intruder.
you look up to see mark, his eyes intense as they meet yours.
“mark! oh my fucki- get out!” you start to ramble, shocked at this situation. “i swear it’s not what it looks like.. i just-”
“what does it look like, baby?” mark comes closer to you. you immediately stop at his words, mouth opening in shock at the petname. mark continues.
“that you’re getting your pretty little self off while moaning my name? what are you thinking about?” he settles in front of your now curled up form.
“or, who are you thinking about? cause i think i can guess who,” he says lowly, lips forming a slight grin as he peers into your widened eyes.
this isn’t just a product of being high out of your mind, right?
you sit up slightly.
“mark.. you aren’t weirded out?” you ask hesitantly.
“why would i be? in fact, let me show you how i’m feeling.” time seems to slow as mark grabs your hand and leads your hand to his sweats. you gasp as you feel how hard - and big - he is.
“sorry for the interruption, but let’s get back to it? i’d love to give you a hand, baby,” mark backs up, pulling you by the waist until you’re propped on your back atop your pillows. he settles between your legs.
“all wrapped up in my hoodie, just like a present,” mark says lowly, his eyes moving down as he lifts up the bottom of his hoodie to meet your soaked underwear. “is all this for me?”
you’re still in shock, honestly, but even this is a high fever dream, you’re taking full advantage of it.
“it’s all for you, markie,” you manage to let out.
he immediately jumps into action even in his high state, getting on his stomach to go down on you. he doesn’t even bother taking off your underwear. he’s tasting you as your panties get even more soaked, your arousal combining with his spit.
mark uses one hand to move your panties to the side, and you gasp at the direct contact.
“oh god mark, feels too fucking good,” you moan out. your body is already feeling so good from the amount of weed coursing through your blood, but mark’s tongue is sending chills throughout your entire being.
your eyes roll and toes curl at the pleasure, hands coming to grip his hair as he lets the mixture of his spit and your juices flow down his chin onto your bed.
mark buries his nose into your clit, looking up at you, and as if you sense him staring, you look back down to meet his eyes.
the sight of him gripping your thigh with one arm as his other hand works to get you off is something beyond your wildest dreams, and it has you cumming only seconds after locking eyes.
mark stares up at you in wonder, groaning as you throw your head up and let out a cry, legs shaking around his head as he helps you ride out your orgasm.
when he sits back up to admire his work, he swears he could cum then and there. in his sights is you still in his hoodie, eyes teary, panting from the pleasure he gave you, and underwear absolutely soaked.
“fuck, baby, you tasted too good.” he’s so hard it hurts.
as you come down, you look up at him, catching his breath, lips still shiny, and eyes absolutely piercing. the haze of the high is still there, and you both know exactly what needs to come next.
“mark, fuck me, please.”
“…anything for you, baby,” mark replies. he takes off his shirt and sweats, and your hands move to take his hoodie off of you when he stops you.
“no, keep it on. i need to fill you up like this,” he says, tone slightly pleading. if he was already beyond turned on seeing you get off in his hoodie, fucking you in it would be a whole different story.
“condoms?” he asks.
“i’m on the pill, and i haven’t fucked anyone in a really long time,” you reply, getting slightly impatient. you just want to feel him.
mark doesn’t realize it straight away, but he’s so happy to hear that. “me too, baby.”
he lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to coat himself in your arousal. you moan out at the teasing, still sensitive from earlier.
“stop teasing, need you so bad mark,” you groan. he grins.
“shh, need to take my time stretching you out, baby.” he latches his head onto your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in. just the tip has you seeing stars.
“fuck mark, w-why are you so big..” the stretch burns, but he slowly inches himself in, letting you adjust.
“you’re so t-tight,” he chokes out, teeth clenching as he feels your walls start to engulf him. if he moves too fast, he knows he’ll cum too soon.
as he bottoms out, the two of you moan into each other, his forehead resting on yours as you both feel each other.
“can i kiss you, dude?” mark asks a bit too innocently for the situation you’re in, and your resulting laugh sends a vibration through you that has you both moaning out.
“i can’t believe you just called me dude when your dick is literally inside of me right now, of course you can kiss me,” you give him the okay, and right away his lips are on yours.
the kiss is sluggish yet deep, and he starts to move his hips ever so slightly as he deepens your kiss further. his hips start to pick up more speed gradually, and you separate from his lips as you gasp out.
you’re moaning his name and he’s moaning yours, both of your thoughts unable to form coherently. the only thing you have in mind is each other and how good you both feel.
his hips start to rut into you more desperately, his pelvis hitting your sensitive bud as deep groans leave his throat.
you’re getting lost in the rocking motion, feeling drool leak from the side of your mouth. his cock reaches a place so deep inside of you no other has reached.
mark is also feeling it, mind spinning as his breaths leave him harshly. he’s knows he’s not gonna last long.
“fuck baby, i need you to cum on my cock.” he punctuates his words with his hand resting on your lower stomach as he starts to thumb at your clit.
your eyes shut tight at the feeling, already reaching another high. the band in your stomach tightens and tightens as mark rubs harsh circles in tempo with his quickening thrusts, and in a second the band snaps.
you cum hard around mark, and mark almost has to stop from how tight you’re gripping around him, walls pulsating as you ride out your high. relieved at you finishing and unable to hold back any longer, mark pulls out and finishes, cum landing on the hoodie you’re wearing.
he collapses next to you, and the two of you catch your breath as you come down from both your sex and weed highs.
mark’s too fucked out to realize he came on his own hoodie, but you’re the one to point it out. already feeling your eyes droop with fatigue, you tiredly joke with him.
“markie, you came all over your hoodie, how am i supposed to stay warm tonight?” you hope he’s picking up what you’re trying to say, and luckily he does. he sits up, tugging the hoodie off your form and tossing it to the side.
“nah dude, i can do a better job than that old hoodie.” mark lays back down, gathering you into his arms. you lay your head against his chest tucked under his chin and close your eyes.
both of you have cooled down, and the feeling of his skin on yours is just what you need. the warmth from mark’s body wrapped around you lulls you to start dozing off.
mark calls your name.
“what is it, markie?”
he’s silent for a second before you feel his chin shift atop your head. he’s smiling.
“round 2 in the morning?”
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ ⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
thank you for reading!! this is the fastest fic i've written so far so hopefully it's okayy. happy new year!!! ♡ in luv with mark lee rn
-coco :)
2K notes · View notes
hrt4yongie · 3 months
Text
things i think mark would say in bed because i need him and i like seeing you all suffer:
“so fuckin’ good, babe.”
“cmere pretty girl.”
“yeah? you like that fuckin’ cock?”
“so gorgeous for me baby, fuck-“
“you look so good taking me.”
“use your words. tell me what you need, honey.”
“yeah? close?”
“there we go, take that cock like a good girl.”
“fuck you feel like heaven, babe.”
“let it all out for me, honey.”
“there’s my girl.”
“i got you, baby. i got you.”
“yeah? feels good right there?”
“mhm. just like that.”
“you look so sexy all laid out for me, mama.”
“don’t hold it. lemme see you~”
“yeah? wanna cum?”
“keep going, mama. use that fuckin’ cock. make it yours.”
“love you so much, pretty girl.”
1K notes · View notes
tyonfs · 10 months
Text
the marriage and baby project
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❝ this thing cries? god, what a cockblock. ❞
PAIRING ▸ mark lee x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, angst, college au, sort of a fake dating au, sort of a roommate au
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual tension, mark is a virgin, reader is a born again virgin(??), dirty talk, big dick mark agenda, golden hour reference ifykyk, oral (m. receiving), protected sex this time, also no real babies were endangered during the marriage and baby project just a robot one
SUMMARY ▸ mark lee has had the biggest crush on you for years, so, naturally, he’s over the moon when you’re both partnered for a group project. however, he underestimates just how close two people can get when they have to pretend they’re married for a month while taking care of a fake baby.
PLAYLIST ▸ nonsense by sabrina carpenter • golden hour by mark 
WORD COUNT ▸ 13,291 words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ IT’S HERE! reparations for mark sort of?? anyways i hope you guys like it ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately
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MARK LEE HAD TERRIBLE LUCK.
At this point in his life, it was almost set in stone. In some parallel universe, there was an eleventh commandment reinstating this. He had friends like Park Jisung to tell him that his misfortune wasn’t that bad, but following a chain of recent events (and walking into plenty of awkward moments), Mark concluded that not only was his luck complete shit, but his best friend was a complete liar, too.
These series of unfortunate events only worsened when Mark found out he was paired with you for a group project.
Not just any group project, but the marriage and baby project. Over the next four weeks, you and Mark would play the role of a (hopefully) happy, married couple. Together, you two would be responsible for a fake baby that mimicked the real needs of an actual infant. At the end of the unit, the professor would grade him based on his parent logs and by gauging if the RealCare Baby doll was still in good shape.
The only reason why Mark took Family and Consumer Science was because his friends told him it would be an easy A for a general education requirement he needed to fulfill. No one clued him in on having to become a married man and father.
“Hi, Mark,” you greeted with a smile, sliding into the seat next to him. “I guess I’m Y/N Lee for the next few weeks.”
He felt his heart drop to his stomach.
Here was a brief rundown: you were essentially a femme fatale, a drop-dead gorgeous it-girl; and Mark was a loser who was somewhat good at playing basketball. On top of that, Mark harbored the biggest crush on you since forever.
Forever dated back to high school. The first time he laid eyes on you was during the only other class you two ever shared: AP Literature. Introductions were on the very first day, and when everyone went around sharing their passions and interests, Mark couldn’t take his eyes off of you when you gushed about how much you loved gardening.
Although Mark never spoke to you much, he had always thought you were the most breathtaking individual he had ever seen. That was probably why he was malfunctioning right now. He had never gotten the opportunity to be around you like this, mostly because you were dating Vernon Chwe up until last year. All he could do was admire from afar helplessly, eyes lingering as you strode down hallways.
Chenle told him that there was a definite shelf life on relationships like yours and Vernon’s—relationships that were mostly physical—so he was confident you two wouldn’t last. And he was right. When you and Vernon broke up, Mark felt bad seeing your teary eyes, but an ugly part of him had been waiting for it to happen.
This situation, however, was like winning the lottery. Not only was he partnered up with you, but he had to play the role of your husband? Things like this never really happened to Mark, so he figured some misfortunate was coming his way soon.
“Hey, Y/N,” he managed to get out.
“I like your hair today,” you complimented.
“I didn’t do anything to it.”
Somewhere, in the depths of Mark’s subconscious, a metaphysical Zhong Chenle was screaming, “She’s flirting with you, dumbass!” whilst stabbing Mark with metaphysical pitchforks lit on fire.
“Come up and get your babies,” the professor, Dr. Han, instructed. “These RealCare infant simulators use wireless programming to track and report on your behaviors, which is why I had you all sign those consent forms.” She held up one of the dolls for everyone to see. “I’m not gonna require you all to keep your dolls in a car seat, but I will be able to see records of misuse, clothing changes, temperature changes, whether you’ve rocked, fed, or burped your baby, or respond to its cries.”
Great. He had to walk around campus with a plastic baby. Mark’s friends were never going to let him live this down.
He wondered if the RealCare infant could play basketball.
He turned to face you again. “Do you want a boy or girl?”
“Mark Lee,” Dr. Han chided, and he nearly jumped when he saw her standing right beside his desk. “You don’t get to choose the gender of your child in real life, so I’ll be randomly assigning each couple a baby.”
“I don’t think we’ve considered the possibility of gene editing.”
“You can take that up with Congress.”
She handed Mark one of the dolls, and he assumed he was now the father of a girl when he saw the pink onesie. He also got a bag with several care items for the baby, and he shuddered at the thought of having to leave basketball practice to change his baby’s diaper.
“What should we name her?” you asked, peering over at the plastic bundle of joy.
“How about Paula?”
Mark paused after you went silent. All he could think of was the character from Earthbound when he suggested that, and you were probably too nice to say that you hated it.
You hummed in thought. “Hey, she shares a name with one of the characters from Earthbound.”
Pause. You, of all people, knew the cult classic Super Nintendo Entertainment System RPG, Earthbound? You knew Earthbound? If Mark didn’t already have a crush on you, this would have been the moment that made him fall for you hard.
“W-wait,” he stuttered pathetically. “You play Earthbound?”
“I did as a kid,” you explained. “I don’t remember much of it now, though. Paula was one of the main characters, though, right?” You scooted your chair a little closer. “So, are we naming her Paula?”
“Yeah, we can do Pau—”
“Group three has claimed the name Paula for their baby!” their professor announced. “The rest of the groups can come up and write the name of their baby on the board.”
“Who else was thinking of Paula?” Mark muttered, looking back to see said group, consisting of Jung Sungchan and Shin Yuna, who were fiddling with their baby.
You two eventually decided on naming your baby Frisk, which was the result of talking about other indie RPG games. Thankfully, the name wasn’t taken by the time Mark claimed it on the board, so you two were set with your newly-minted family. The professor had told every couple to come up with a plan on taking care of the baby, so you and Mark figured out a schedule before leaving class.
“So, I’m taking the baby back to my apartment, right?” Mark clarified while he walked with you down the hallway. “I have basketball practice right now, but if you could take care of her until I’m done, then I can take her home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Uh…” Mark was blanking. “My apartment?”
“Where is it?”
“Like, the student apartments on Sixth Street—Room 301.”
“Alright, I’ll head over there. I have to stop by my place to pack first, though.”
“Wait… what?”
“We’re married now, right?” You cocked your head to the side, as if you were confused. “Give me your keys. I’ll wait for you at home.”
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Maybe Mark was downright stupid, but he handed over his keys to you without a second thought.
He handed over the keys to his apartment. You two weren’t even that close for him to trust you so wholeheartedly, and here he was, acting like he had no other care in the world, no concept of safety.
For some reason, he only realized how irrational this was halfway through basketball practice. When Johnny Suh passed him the ball, he figured out mid-dribble that there was a possibility that you could rob him.
What would you even take? His deodorant? There was a pretty sweet air fryer in the kitchen that his parents got him, but it wasn’t expensive enough to rob someone’s house for. Mark was definitely in over his head because he was 100% confident that he didn’t have anything of value to you.
“Dude, are you good?” Zhong Chenle asked, patting his back firmly. “You’ve been off all practice.”
“I’m a married man now,” Mark muttered.
“Oh, nice,” Chenle replied, feigning interest before leaning over to Kim Jungwoo and whispering, “Get him some ice for his head.”
(“On it,” Jungwoo affirmed.
“Bro, don’t actually get me ice,” Mark tried, looking defeated as he watched Jungwoo walk away.)
He shot Chenle a withering look. “It’s the marriage and baby project.”
Those were the only words his best friend needed to hear. After all, it was Chenle’s fault that Mark ended up in that class, anyway. If he didn’t suggest it for Mark’s GE requirement, then Mark probably wouldn’t have had to suffer through an entire semester of it.
“Who’d you get?” Chenle asked, a wide grin stretching across his face as he pried for information.
As of late, Chenle had been overbearing about Mark’s love life. His friend was constantly pushing him to talk to girls, despite Mark’s insistence that he didn’t want to talk to anyone but you. Of course, even after declaring that, he had never actually made a move on you. He was far too shy and you were far too pretty.
“Y/N,” Mark muttered.
“Y/N,” the point guard repeated, staring his friend down until his eyes were big as discs. “The Y/N? The one you’ve been crushing on since forever?”
“Yes,” Mark replied pointedly, “and let’s not make a big deal about it because absolutely nothing’s going to happen.” After recalling his conversation with you earlier, he paused for a second before adding, “Even though… nevermind.”
“What?” Chenle pressed.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t pull that shit on me. You know I can see right through you.”
“Okay, fine.” Mark huffed lightly. “She’s crashing at my place until we’re done with the project.”
“Don’t lie to me either.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Mark, I’m not an idiot.”
“Dude, I’m serious,” he insisted, but there was no convincing Chenle until Mark had actual, physical proof. “When have I ever lied to you?”
“Remember when we played Two Truths and a Lie, and you—”
“Okay, clearly lying is required for Two Truths and a Lie, so that doesn’t count.”
“Well, that’s true.” Chenle rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess you don’t have any reason to be lying about this, but there’s no fucking way Y/N, of all people, is living with you. That’s gotta be straight out of a rom-com.”
“You’re living with who?” a voice called from behind Chenle.
Johnny Suh, captain of the basketball team and one of Mark’s best friends, strode over and slung an arm around Chenle’s shoulders. He had quite a few inches on both of them, and it made interrogations far more intimidating. This was exactly the time when Johnny would start grilling Mark for more information. Unlike Chenle, Johnny was persistent.
“Y/N,” Chenle answered before Mark could start denying. “They’re paired up for that lame baby project.”
Johnny raised his brows, impressed. “Dude, it’s your chance.”
“Chance for what?”
“To get pus—”
“Don’t say that!” Mark exclaimed, cheeks burning bright red. He felt like he was going to faint from how embarrassed he was. “I like her in a very… a very respectful way.”
“Oh.” Chenle snorted. “Good luck with that.”
With that, Chenle made some comment about being parched, and he jogged off to the water fountain. Mark’s eyes followed him, but his face was set in a frown. His friend’s good-natured comment seemed backhanded, and Mark had a weird feeling about it. So, he turned to Johnny.
“What’d he mean by that?”
Johnny grinned. “He means Y/N’s going to break you.”
(Jungwoo, who had been gone for a majority of the conversation, approached the trio and said, “I brought the ice pack.”
Mark could only sigh. “Jesus Christ, Jungwoo.”)
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chenle (douchebag #2): did you break yet?
mark: no
johnny (douchebag #1): did you break yet?
mark: no
chenle (douchebag #2): how about now?
mark: no
Naturally, gossip traveled faster than light, so the entire basketball team soon found out about Mark living with you. Everyone seemed to agree that you would break Mark, too, so they all started placing bets on when it would happen.
Johnny was betting on a week, but Chenle held out hope, wagering ten dollars on Mark lasting a week and a half. Mark still had no idea why they thought you were going to break him, but he was starting to understand when he walked into his apartment to see you in shorts and a bikini top.
“I was gonna go to the community pool,” you said. No greetings, just straight to business. “I can take the baby with me, if you want.”
Mark was too distracted by the two suitcases by the door to respond, though. He just glanced from you to the luggages for several seconds before he asked, “You were serious about living here?”
You tilted your head, confused. “You don’t want me to?”
“No, it’s fine, just…” Mark shook his head. “It’s nothing. Enjoy your swim.”
“You’re not coming?”
“Uh…”
“Come on,” you urged, grabbing his hand and tugging him a little closer. “You can watch Frisk while I swim.”
He swallowed hard. Something about you being in minimal clothing and getting in water didn’t seem like it would bode well for Mark. His seemingly innocent crush on you was now tainted, like ink blots splotching white paper, growing bigger and bigger.
“Sure,” he ended up saying. Mark decided not to go against you for now; he would use this opportunity to find out what the fuck was going on in your head. “I’ll put my backpack away real quick.” When he got to his room and flicked the lights on, he raised his voice so that you could hear him. “By the way, I can take the couch! You can sleep on my bed.”
He set his backpack next to his desk, but when he turned back to head to the living room, you were standing right at the doorway. His heart jumped a little in his chest, and he was sure your stay would result in him being predisposed to cardiac arrest. The RealCare baby was nestled snug in your arms as you frowned back at Mark.
“Married couples sleep together,” you said.
“B-but we’re—”
“We’ll have to go to couples therapy if you’re gonna be so distant.” There was a hint of a smile on your face, and Mark couldn’t tell if you were joking or not. All he knew was that you were crazy. Crazy and incredibly hot. “That can’t be good for the baby.”
You must have been hellbent on breaking him.
“Yeah, okay,” Mark breathed out. He supposed he would have to sleep with all his clothes on for the next few weeks. “That works for me.”
“Great!” you chirped before taking Mark’s hand and grinning. “Rub sunscreen on my back?”
The sun wasn’t even out.
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Mark decided he wouldn’t tell Chenle or Johnny shit.
The moment you shimmied off your shorts at the poolside, Mark was pretty sure you were already breaking him. It was bad enough that he let his hands linger when he rubbed sunscreen on your back (with no sunlight to be seen), but your bikini bottoms were offering him too good of a view. Mark distracted himself with his phone, feigning a sudden interest in tomorrow’s weather when he felt a splash of water against his cheek.
He looked up to see you on the poolside, smiling up at him coyly. “You have to hold our baby with both hands.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, shuffling to put his phone away and move the doll into a more comfortable position.
“Sit,” you insisted, patting the concrete right in front of you. “It’s no fun if you just watch.”
Mark nodded and kicked off his Nike slides to the side. He sat down at the edge of the pool carefully, adjusting Frisk in his arms so that she wouldn’t get wet, and he dipped his feet into the water. He didn’t expect it to be so warm, but he was glad that he had an excuse to explain why his face felt so hot.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Mark started, meeting your gaze with his nervous one. When you hummed inquisitively, he continued, “Why are you so into this whole marriage and baby project? I mean, I don’t think any of the other groups are going this far for a good grade.”
He thought his direct question would leave you unnerved. Instead, you just smiled.
“I don’t know,” you said. “I just feel like it’d be fun to be Mark Lee’s wife for a few weeks.”
“And… so you wanna live in my house?”
“Of course!” You straightened up, looking visibly shocked. “I’d feel horrible for Frisk if she had to be raised by separated parents.”
“Oh, uh, right.” Mark was still befuddled, but he nodded along to your words. “So, what else are you planning? I’m not gonna wake up to breakfast in bed, am I?”
“That depends.” You leaned closer and Mark could hear his heart thumping in his chest. “What’s your definition of breakfast in bed?”
If Mark was good at keeping a straight face earlier, he certainly wasn’t doing so hot right now. After realizing the implication in your words, his jaw hung open comically. He didn’t have the mental capacity to string any words together and formulate a response. There was just white sound ringing in his ears.
“You good?” you asked.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I just feel hot.”
“Then why don’t you come swim with me?” You grabbed his hand and tugged gently, encouraging him to get in fully. “The water’s nice.”
“What about Frisk?”
“Frisk will be perfectly fine. It’s just for a bit.”
Mark let out a shaky exhale. He didn’t want to get his hopes up or anything, but this offer felt like it would quickly escalate if Mark engaged. Alarms went off in his head. He knew this was much too fast for him to keep up with, but his body moved against all rational thought. Before he could stop himself, he was already putting Frisk down.
He pulled his shirt up and over his head.
You were eyeing him like a hawk, taking in his toned body as he revealed more skin. Mark almost felt shy to undress himself in front of you, but he quickly realized how much more nervous he was going to feel once he was actually in the pool with you.
With a light grunt, he lowered himself into the water. The smell of chlorine overwhelmed him for a moment, but then Mark was focused on you and how cool the water was. It did feel nice, as you told him, but now he was terrified of getting an erection.
Once, Mark walked in on Jeong Jaehyun fucking a good friend of his in a hot tub. That was how he knew pool sex was not out of the question.
“Whoa,” you mumbled, reaching out to run the pads of your fingers down Mark’s abs. “You’re so ripped.”
He tried not to shudder under your touch and instead opted for a laugh. “Are you lying to make me feel good?”
“What?”
“Like…” Mark was fumbling for words, rummaging his brain for something that didn’t sound stupid. “I feel like you’re just saying stuff to get in my head.”
“Get in your head? Why would I do that?”
His throat felt dry when he swallowed. “I don’t know,” he mumbled before clearing his throat and saying, “I just feel like you’ve never shown this much interest in me before, so…”
Your face clouded with puzzlement. Mark wondered if you were offended by him questioning your genuinity, and he seemed to be correct when you pulled back with a frown. Your hand dropped back to your side, yet your touch still lingered across his skin.
“You’re cute, Mark,” you said simply, as if you were stating a known fact. “There’s no way girls haven’t told you that before.”
No, girls hadn’t told him that.
Perhaps Mark was overshadowed by the rest of the basketball team members, but he never experienced girls flocking to cheer him on like they did for Johnny Suh. He was never the one to stay back to talk to someone who had been eyeing him the whole game. Sure, Mark got a few looks here and there, but no girl had outright told him that he was cute.
Until you, he supposed. He had received a lifetime of attention from you today. This was quite possibly the most significant point of his college experience so far.
Whenever Mark and his friends talked about girls, he would always quietly listen. He never had much to share, especially not when Jungwoo had stories that rivaled Casanova himself. No one cared enough to hear about Mark’s pure little crush on you when they could hear about the threesome Jungwoo had with two cheerleaders.
Plus, you had been with Vernon for so long. Mark held his tongue most of the time out of respect. Even if you weren’t part of the conversation, he didn’t want to talk badly about Vernon just because he liked you. It would have been pathetic of Mark to talk big when, in reality, he was a coward.
“Only you,” he replied in a soft voice, almost embarrassed.
You looked genuinely shocked when you asked, “Really?” That coy smile returned to your lips when you shook your head and moved to wrap your arms around Mark’s neck. You simpered, “Poor, poor Mark. You really have no idea.”
“Idea of what?”
He shivered when your breath tickled his ear. “Any girl would kill to be in my shoes right now.”
That had to be an exaggeration. Mark didn’t condone murder. Plus, you were barefoot.
“I have a feeling,” you continued, “that you’re not as innocent as you pretend you are.”
Was that the impression Mark gave off? It wasn’t that he was trying to present himself as some goody two shoes, but he was far tamer than the rest of his friends.
But maybe you were implying something else. Something more carnal.
If you were implying that Mark hadn’t let a single dirty thought rack his brain, then you were gravely mistaken. Mark Lee was still a man—a man who oftentimes thought with his dick. Of course, he tried his best to never think of you in indecent ways, but what good was his willpower when you were stripped down to a bikini in front of him?
Mark let out a shuddering breath and held you back by your shoulders. “Y/N, I don’t think us being this close right now is a good idea. We’re in public, like—”
“So?” You laughed, moving his hands from your shoulders to your waist. Mark had to keep his large hands from fidgeting, especially when you moved in so close that your chests were nearly touching. “I don’t see anyone else out here.”
“Someone could walk through those gates at any moment.”
“Then I hope they enjoy the show.”
One could call you desperate.
Mark wouldn’t call you that, though. There was no desperation in your tone; you were just confident—someone who marched to the beat of their own drum. It was like you had zero shame in any of the things you said, so Mark wouldn’t dare call you desperate. Especially not when he liked you too much for his own good.
There was no way he could resist your advances, not when you were looking at him with those bedroom eyes. Mark could only close your eyes and anticipate what he had been waiting for his entire life when you started leaning in.
Right when your lips neared his, though, Mark heard a splash right next to him. At first, he brushed it off, but then the gurgles and cries snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. The mechanic wailing made his heart drop to his stomach.
“Oh shit,” you whispered.
Your maternal instincts kicked in when you dunked your head in the pool to save the plastic baby. Mark, on the other hand, turned around with a scowl. He leaned over the poolside and shook his head in dismay.
“This thing cries?” he muttered to himself. “God, what a cockblock.”
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“Uh… is it okay?” Mark asked, trying to wrap his head around why you looked so distressed over the fake child. “Or, well, are you okay?”
“It?” you repeated, scowling at Mark’s unintentional dehumanization of the robot infant. “You’re referring to our baby as an it?”
“Sorry.” Mark hoisted himself up and out of the pool. He sat beside you to examine the doll, and it seemed as if the RealCare infant was still in good shape. There was no noticeable damage done by the water, so you two seemed to have lucked out. “I’m sure nothing’s gonna happen to our grade. Maybe she’ll think we gave her a bath!”
You didn’t meet Mark’s eyes, and your voice was no louder than a whisper when you said, “Hopefully.”
“What’s wrong?” He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently in an attempt to comfort you.
“I’m a horrible mother.”
“You’re not a horrible mother.”
“I am an utterly horrible mother.”
“It’s a doll, Y/N.”
“It’s our child, Mark!”
“If you’re a horrible mother, then I’m a horrible father,” he insisted. For a moment, you just looked up at him with perplexed eyes, so Mark sighed and sat down in front of you. He crossed his legs and placed a hand on Frisk’s plastic leg. “This means we can just learn how to be good parents together—little by little. We’re not gonna get everything right the first time. That’s how parenting works, right?”
Slowly, a smile crept to your lips, and Mark had never been so elated to see your eyes gleam so cheerfully.
“Thanks, Mark,” you said, punching his shoulder playfully. It actually hurt like a bitch, but Mark steeled his nerves so that he didn’t look pathetic in front of you. “You’ve really got a way with words sometimes.”
For a moment, he felt like this moment you two shared was almost beautiful. A little dispute resolved shortly after common understanding was the perfect thing to bond over. Sure, you were a little strange at first, but Mark was starting to think that maybe—deep down—you could be vulnerable, too.
But then you crushed his notion into shards of glass when you asked, “So, are you a virgin?”
Mark let out a strangled noise that sounded like a cat drowning. He lamely hit the center of his chest with his fist to regain his composure, but your sincere smile was already morphing into a smirk, and Mark felt like his world was capsizing. Once again, he had reverted back into a complete loser. His moment of glory was over.
“Um… define virgin.”
“Someone who hasn’t had sex,” you answered.
Oh, that probably made sense.
He tried to divert the topic with a pathetic whine. “We were just having a moment.”
“A moment has to end eventually.”
“You could’ve ended it with a gentler transition,” he grumbled, “but, yes, I’m a virgin.”
You frowned. “How?”
“What do you mean, how? I just haven’t had sex.”
“But we had a baby together.”
“A plastic baby for a group project,” Mark deadpanned. He wondered when you would ever stop blurring the lines between fantasy and reality, even though it amused him. He turned the question on you, asking, “Are you a virgin?”
He knew damn well you weren’t, but you replied, “Yeah.”
Mark narrowed his eyes. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Y/N, I’m not stupid.”
“I’m a born again virgin.”
“Oh my God.” He wanted to die. “You are not a born again virgin.”
“I’m not sure you can make that decision for me.” You then grinned like a Cheshire cat, a clear indication that you were going to say something that would wind up having you redirected to a psychologist. “We can lose our virginities to each other.”
Mark tugged a hand through his hair and, almost embarrassed by how choked up his voice sounded, whispered, “Are you insane?”
“Maybe so.��
And Mark ended up laughing. Laughing hysterically to the point where he thought he was going crazy. He probably looked and sounded like a madman, but you were eerily calm. You had finally pushed him off the edge, and he hated to admit it, but he was certain that you had finally broken him. It only took less than a day for you to pull apart the strings of his sanity—an impressive feat, really.
Except you hadn’t broken him quite in the way Johnny and Chenle were probably expecting. Whatever it was you did spurred Mark Lee to grab you by the back of the neck and lean down to kiss you hard.
And when he pulled back, breathless and frazzled, your lips curled into a grin that could make flowers bloom and birds sing.
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And, so, it carried on like that for the next week.
Mark and you lived together for an entire week with not too many complications. Sure, he was getting irritated from the baby waking him up every night, but it wasn’t as terrible as the intense sexual tension that he could do nothing about.
You would always subtly make a move on Mark, who would attempt to reciprocate and proceed to either get interrupted by Frisk or something else. So, Mark would wait until you were asleep to jerk off in the bathroom. He knew that you would be fully willing to help him out, but he still couldn’t tell what your intentions were, so he felt unsure about starting something with you.
However, that didn’t stop Mark and you from making out with each other whenever you could. After the first kiss, you two couldn’t get enough of each other. Mark was eager to run his hands down your body while yours were dangling loosely around his neck. You would practically jump into his arms, allowing him to carry you until you were pressed against a wall or thrown onto his bed, and then he would lose himself to the taste of your lips.
Until Frisk would start crying again.
“Anything noteworthy?” Chenle asked during practice, dribbling his basketball while keeping his gaze fixed on his best friend.
“I kissed Y/N again,” Mark said, “because she was driving me crazy… again.”
“As one does, I guess.” Chenle threw the ball to Mark, who caught it swiftly. “Good job, dude. Maybe you’ll finally get laid.”
That was how Mark’s updates had been going for the past week. Chenle was more impressed the first few times, but now his response seemed scheduled, like he was expecting it.
The first night was truly the strangest encounter. After you and Mark shared a frenzied kiss, he took off his jacket to cover you up after noticing the goosebumps running down your arms. Then, he walked you back to his apartment (and sprinted back to the pool afterward because he left Frisk at the poolside).
The heated poolside kiss offered the perfect opportunity for you and Mark to spend the night together, but he couldn’t get a grip on himself. He ended up tucking you in his bed and sleeping on the couch. It took a while for him to fall asleep, though, because all he could think about were how soft your lips were against his.
But it was all so wrong.
Mark felt like he was the punchline of some sick joke. Whatever you were doing to him was messing with his head, and he couldn’t seem to figure out if there was any genuinity in your actions. Sure, you two shared a fraction of a moment when you started breaking down over the plastic baby, but it was almost immediately shattered by your frivolous question.
From being the pathetic college student who pined after you for years to becoming the object of your every desire, Mark was quite confused. He was questioning every single word that slipped from your lips, every action that threw him in for a loop. It was painstakingly miserable.
“I don’t wanna get laid like that.” Mark scowled. “Especially not with our baby crying every other minute.”
Chenle’s eyes widened, and he stopped dribbling the ball after Mark threw it to him, choosing to tuck it under his arm. “Whoa. Sounds like you’re not very happy.”
“Great observation, Chenle. Maybe psychology’s up your alley if statistics doesn’t work out.”
Chenle chose to ignore the jab and pointed out, “You don’t normally argue back like this.”
“We should start calling you Sherlock.”
“Dude, you’re mad.”
“I’m telling you she’s crazy, not—”
“No, Mark, you’re mad,” Chenle repeated. “You’re angry. I’ve never seen you heated before. You usually just take whatever comes at you, or you just laugh these things off.”
Mark sighed heavily. “I guess parenting takes a lot out of a person.”
“Maybe this is a good thing,” Chenle tried. “Maybe now you’ll get over your weird obsession with Y/N.”
“I don’t have a weird obsession with—”
Mark felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and he turned to see Johnny Suh standing right behind him. The basketball team captain’s eyebrows were raised.
“Trust me, dude,” he said, “you do have a weird obsession.”
Mark spluttered, offended. “Does everyone think this?”
He looked around to see most of the basketball team members nodding in agreement, but they looked away and got back to their drills as soon as Mark made eye contact with a few of them. Mark had never felt so distressed in his life, not even when Jisung’s stupid cat ate his pet goldfish last year.
“Mark!” a voice echoed from the entrance of the gym. His head whipped around to see you sauntering over with Frisk in a baby carrier. “You’re taking the baby home today, right? I’m going to the gym for an hour.”
Mark felt like an idiot for fixating on the way your gym shorts hugged your thighs deliciously. He could only think of how he would just tear them off if no one else was around. Maybe he could have you ride his thigh—
Actually, before that, Mark needed to move past first base with you. It was difficult getting more than five minutes together when parenting duties arose.
He was starting to see why everyone thought he had a weird obsession.
“Uh, yeah,” he stammered out while taking Frisk from your arms. “I’ll take her home after practice ends.”
“Alright, thanks,” you replied, getting on your toes to peck Mark’s lips gently before turning on your heels. “Bye, babe.”
“Dude, she’s insane,” Chenle said in awe as he watched you head out of the gym.
“Insane,” Mark affirmed, “and so fucking hot.”
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Later in the day, when you had finally put Frisk to sleep, Mark decided to bring up what you did in front of the entire basketball team. It had been on his mind all day; not because you kissed him but because you kissed him in front of his friends. Screwing around privately was much different from being affectionate in public.
“That was quite the stunt you pulled earlier,” he mentioned. When you responded with a questioning hum, he clarified, “Kissing me in front of the entire team.”
You were preoccupied with your reflection in the hallway mirror, messing with your hair to see what looked better. Mark was trying not to ogle so openly at the gym shorts that you were still wearing. He was almost starting to feel guilty for thinking such dirty thoughts.
“Oh, well, I saw the way you were looking at me,” you said, “so I just did it.”
“Looking at you?” he asked thoughtlessly, and then he only realized you had turned around because he couldn’t stare at your ass anymore. Now he had been caught and shame was burning on his face. “Uh, sorry, I was just—”
“You’re looking again,” you observed.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just—”
“You don’t have to apologize, Mark.” You walked over and straddled his thighs, as far back as possible so that you were sitting more on his knees. This was bad; Mark was going to get a boner if you kept this up. “You can just make it up to me.”
“I got a really big, um…”
You smiled in that coy way that made all the blood rush to Mark’s cock, painfully tenting his pants in the most uncomfortable way. “Got a really big what?”
He swallowed thickly. “Problem.”
“Need any help with that?”
Mark let out a happy sigh and his words spilled out faster than he could even process them. “Haven’t even taken you out for dinner yet.”
“Mark.”
“It’s the principle of the matter. I mean, I guess I made you ramen the other night. That has to count for something, right?”
“Mark.”
“No, that can’t count for anything. I have to actually pay for a proper dinner at a proper restaurant with—”
“Mark!” you exclaimed once again, and he snapped out of his ramblings to look down at you. All the blood was rushing to his cock when he watched you slowly lower down to your knees. In a softer voice, you asked, “Do you need any help or not?”
“Please.”
His voice came out with an edge of desperation. Mark didn’t know he had it in him to beg like that, and it would have embarrassed him if he wasn’t already yearning for you. While you didn’t directly tease him, the little curl of your lips made Mark’s face feel hot.
Your fingers slid past his waistband, and you started tugging at his pants with one hand while the other worked on his zipper. Mark rushed to help you, unable to contain how eager he was to feel your pretty lips around his throbbing cock. It was almost painful how he ached for you.
All he wanted was for Frisk to shut the fuck up for ten minutes—just ten minutes—so that he could receive the head of his life. Mark made a silent prayer that the robot baby wouldn’t start crying for milk and interrupt the moment like it always did.
Once you and Mark finally managed to yank his pants and boxers down to his ankles, you knelt back down and stared at Mark’s cock, watching it twitch sporadically. At first, he worried that you were underwhelmed by the size—maybe even having second thoughts on giving him a blowjob.
It was when he noticed your shy body language when he decided to ask, “Everything okay?”
“You’re so fucking huge,” you said after a moment of hesitation. “Like, I’m almost worried I won’t be able to take it all.”
Sometimes, Mark truly couldn’t tell if you were real or some sort of manifestation of his every desire and fantasy.
He started to lean toward the latter after he watched you lean forward to spit on the head of his cock, moving your hand up and down his shaft to lubricate him.
With a few experimental kitten licks to the head of his cock, you wound up taking his head into your mouth. Mark let out a groan immediately, internally begging you to just stop teasing and take the rest of him in. His cock was nearly throbbing from all the teasing. If you ever decided to really edge him, he would be a goner.
“Y/N, please,” he mumbled, cupping your cheek with his hand to urge you to take in more.
Your soft lips, painted cherry red, moved down on his cock. Mark couldn’t even think straight as you swirled your tongue around his length, taking your time along his thick veins. A breathless laugh escaped his lips; he was desperate—needing more.
Mark’s face was pinched in pleasure, trying to conceal the deep groans that dared escape his throat. He ended up giving in, though, because your tongue snaking around his girth was almost too much for him to handle. Then, you started to speed up, which Mark suspected was encouraged by his moans.
It felt as though the walls were crashing around him, so Mark stood up, leaving you perplexed and looking up at him with his cock still in your mouth. Somewhere between that, he managed to kick his jeans and boxers off his ankles completely. You were still bobbing your head back and forth, and the sight was breathtaking.
So, Mark did the only thing he could think of, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair at the back of your head and started bucking his hips into your mouth.
You let out a muffled cry, although it was clear you were enjoying Mark taking charge by the way you gripped his thighs and hollowed your cheeks out. There was a fire burning in Mark that he had never ignited before—something that woke him up, or woke something in him up.
“Yeah? You like that?” he taunted. Mark never expected such filthy words to come from his mouth, but he couldn’t help himself. “You’re such a good girl for me.”
Heat prickled his skin, and Mark had never had someone get him off, but he was sure this was it. Countless nights of beating off couldn’t compare to this moment—not when it was you, on your knees, looking up at him with those hazy, glazed-over eyes. Mark ran his thumb over your lip, smudging your lipstick further, and then it was all over for him.
Tiny shocks of pleasure coursed up his spine, and before Mark knew it, he was cumming in your mouth with zero warning. The feeling was so intense, all at once, and then it started subsiding. Aftershocks of pleasure came in waves, but Mark was so drunk on the feeling. He probably should have mentioned his incoming orgasm to you, but now he couldn’t even think properly as he watched you swallow down his load.
You stayed on your knees, keeping your gaze fixed on him as you pulled your lips off his cock.
Mark groaned at the sight. “Fuck,” was all he could muster before he knelt down and reconnected his lips with yours in a rushed kiss.
Dizzy. Hot. Frenzied. Mark felt like his surroundings had melted away, and the world was just you and him. He pulled you up to your feet, keeping his palms on your cheeks, and moved you carefully to his bedroom.
You pulled away to take off your shirt as you sat at the edge of Mark’s bed. You and Mark had cuddled a few nights on the same mattress, but being able to fuck you was completely different. Even though your dynamic was already strange, sealing the deal like this would change everything.
But Mark wasn’t complaining.
“You know,” he decided to admit as he pulled off his t-shirt, “the guys think I have some sort of weird obsession with you.”
“Well, are you?”
You kicked off your pants, and you were left in a black lingerie set that Mark couldn’t take his eyes off of. The way the fabric hugged your every curve made his brain go haywire. Maybe it was because Mark was a virgin, but he was freaking out and you two hadn’t even gotten started.
In response, Mark nodded. “Yeah, a little.”
You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you. Mark’s lips were slow on yours, lazily slipping into your mouth and licking as he pleased. He sighed happily into your mouth and felt his heartbeat skyrocket when your smile grew against his lips.
This kiss deepened, this time with more fervor, and Mark groaned into your mouth when he felt your nails rake down his back. He spread his slender fingers out to run his hand down the front of your body, shuddering lightly once he was at your stomach. Any lower and Mark would be in dangerous territory.
You pulled away to ask, “Are you nervous?”
“This is my first time,” Mark replied, “and it’s a little scarier doing it with someone who’s more confident than I am.”
“I’m actually pretty nervous, too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, because I was going to ask you not to fuck me.” You pulled him closer so that you could press a kiss to his jawline. “I want you to make love to me.”
Mark’s jaw went slack at your words. All of a sudden, he wondered if the passage of time moved slower because five seconds of watching you shy away felt like an eternity.
Mark was uncertain. He had always been uncertain of many things in his life. He wasn’t very confident in himself, which was something he was working on. In fact, he was still half-expecting you to walk out on him at any moment.
But Mark was certain of one thing: He liked you a lot, and he wanted to give you anything you wanted.
He leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” You grinned before attempting to wriggle out of his grip. “Let me get on top so I can help you, Mark.”
“O-on top?” he stammered, and he wanted to hit himself for sounding so pathetic. It seemed to get a giggle out of you, though, so his worries washed away.
Mark sat back against his pillows. His blushes normally started at his chest before creeping up to his collarbones, so he really hoped you wouldn’t be able to see just how flustered he was. It was impossible to contain when you crawled toward him, though, sitting up on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Condom,” he reminded in a whisper.
“I have the implant.” You held up your arm and pressed down on the fleshy underside. “Wanna feel?”
“Um…”
“Come on, touch it,” you urged. “It’s like X-Men, except my mutation is no fertilization.”
“What if I accidentally turn it off?”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, Mark.”
Mark allowed you to take his finger and poke the contraceptive in your arm. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but his eyes went wide when he realized how hard it was. He loosened his grip on you so that he held you more gently with careful hands.
“It doesn’t hurt?” he asked, frowning.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said with a smile. “Why? Are you worried?”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said. “I just wanna make you feel good.”
You took Mark’s hand and moved it down to the apex of your thighs, sighing softly when his fingers brushed against your clothed cunt. Mark started with gentle prods before his fingers were nearly clawing to get your thong off. He wanted nothing more than to drown his fingers in your cunt.
He pulled out to undo your bra slowly, moving the straps down your arms first before he snapped the band behind you. A sigh fell from his lips when your bra slid down your body, and he quickly tossed it aside so that he could really look at you.
“Take off your thong,” he mumbled, tugging at the band eagerly.
You raised your hips and Mark helped you remove your last garment, and when you were completely bare in front of him, he was sure he could die a happy man. His fingertips ran down your body, looking at you with perplexed eyes, like he was trying to figure out if you were real or some otherworldly being beyond his imagination.
You lowered onto him slowly, and he tipped his head back and groaned as you did. Mark couldn’t explain how he felt. The squeeze was slightly painful, but feeling you all around his cock was wonderful. His eyes went a little unfocused as he stared at the spot where you two were joined, and Mark found his fingers digging into your hips.
“Jesus, Y/N,” he rasped out. “You feel so fucking good.”
“I can set the pace,” you whimpered out, although you already looked way too caught up in your own pleasure to move. “Just give me a second. You’re so b-big.”
“Then I can do everything for you.”
Mark didn’t hesitate before he grabbed the back of your thighs and flipped you around so that he was suspended over you, using one hand to keep himself up while the other was gripping your hip. The swiftness caused him to bottom out unintentionally, and it left you both gasping and moaning at the deeper penetration.
He started thrusting at a steady pace, breath hitching every time he watched your face twist and contort in pleasure. Mark slipped out a few times and had to regain his rhythm afterward, but soon he was starting to get the hang of it. The feeling was phenomenal; he felt like he was breathing in stars that exploded into little supernovas in his head. And it was even harder to keep his composure when you looked so fucked-out underneath him.
Mark’s hand flew up to grip the headboard, and he laughed a little breathlessly because this was what he dreamt of for years. This was the very image of his wet dreams of you, and it was unraveling right before him. Those fantasies, though, couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing.
Neither of you were much of talkers—just far too lost in each other’s bodies to do anything but moan and whine. When your legs wrapped around his waist, Mark felt impossibly deeper inside of you. Each thrust felt like an electric current running under his skin. The buildup of pleasure was making him feel hotter and hotter until he felt like he would explode.
Mark had never been into spirituality, but he truly felt like he had ascended to some higher plane when his nerve endings met rapture and he came inside you. The release left him breathing hard, almost stuttering to a stop before he realized that you still needed to cum, and he sped up again to get you to your orgasm. Still, he was slow enough that you could feel his thrusts deep inside of you. Right where you needed him.
“Mark,” you breathed out, but no other words were forming on your lips. You reached out without any sense of direction, so Mark lowered his head to kiss you with more assurance than he had ever felt in his life.
One hand on the headboard, one fighting down your hips, and his body pressed flush against yours as he made love to you. Mark admitted that he had gotten a little carried away at first, but now he wanted to go as slow as you needed.
“T-that’s it,” you gasped out. “Right there.”
You arched your spine, and Mark held the small of your back to keep you there while you fell into your orgasm. He fucked you through your orgasm, sparing your lips for the time being and showing your neck some love so that he could hear your delightful moans. He made sure that you were able to ride your high out for as long as possible, releasing his grip from the headboard so that he could rub your clit in small, precise circles.
The room soon fell silent, and Mark just watched your chest rise and fall with a small smile. He tucked your loose strands of hair behind your ear and leaned in for another kiss.
And, since the universe wanted Mark to be miserable, Frisk started crying again. Her mechanical wails were heard in the distance.
Mark let his head drop, burying it in the crook of your neck before he sighed heavily. Then, he rose up again to gather his garments from the floor. You did the same with great reluctance, and this was probably the first time Mark had seen you so frustrated to deal with Frisk. There was unspoken tension in the air, but you both knew your project grade had to be dealt with first. Aftercare could come later.
“I’ll get the baby,” he muttered.
Just as miserable as he was, you nodded in understanding. “I’ll get a clean diaper.”
As Mark was walking down his hallway, he froze dead in his tracks and his eyes widened.
“Wait,” he announced, and he was confident the stars aligned and constellations formed for this pivotal moment, “I found the clit.”
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On a Friday night, Mark decided to take you to get ice cream instead of going home straight after basketball practice. It had been a rough week, so he figured you two needed a break. Frisk had been crying nonstop all night, and it was causing you both to lose sleep. It had gotten to the point where Mark’s eye bags were so dark that it looked as if someone had punched him on both sides of his face.
“What’s your favorite flavor?” he asked, hands in his pockets as he firmly held onto his phone. He needed to pull it out as fast as he could before you tried to pay for the ice cream. Thankfully, Mark was quick with Apple Pay.
“Mint chocolate chip,” you said. “You?”
Mark’s nose scrunched up at the thought of eating mint chocolate chip ice cream willingly. “Mine’s cookies and cream.”
“Why are you making that face?”
“Because mint chocolate chip is terrible.”
“No, it’s not!” you argued. “Cookies and cream is literally the most basic flavor.”
“Well, at least it actually tastes good. Can’t really say the same for your dairy toothpaste.”
Thankfully, you were so adamant on defending your low quality ice cream flavor that Mark was able to pay for your ice creams without you noticing. The cashier even chuckled at the banter that kept going back and forth, not even stopping when Mark whipped out his phone to pay for the two cups.
“We literally have nothing in common,” you continued bickering, not ceasing even when you and Mark got a table outside. “I hate basketball, I don’t like gaming—and those are pretty much the top two things you love!”
“I thought you played Earthbound.”
“I did, but that’s different. You play first person shooter, not RPGs.”
Mark shrugged. “That’s fine. I don’t like shopping or watching Single’s Inferno, so I don’t expect you to like basketball or gaming.”
“But what do we talk about then?” You sighed. “We have absolutely no common interests to talk about.”
“We’re talking fine right now, aren’t we?” He paused to wipe the smear of ice cream off your bottom lip with his thumb, and then proceeded to lick it clean himself since there were no napkins nearby. “You had a little something.”
“Oh, thanks,” you replied, blinking several times before you snapped back into reality. “Are we talking fine? We were just arguing over ice cream flavors.”
“I’m not having a bad time, though,” he said with a shrug, scooping some ice cream into his mouth. “I liked you even when I knew jack shit about you.”
“You did? Since when?”
“Uh…” Mark was sure his cheeks had gone bright red. “Like, one or six years ago?”
“One or six?” you asked, eyes wide as saucers. “That’s a very big timeframe.” You were deep in thought as you ate your ice cream, pondering on his words before asking, “So, like, high school, right?”
Mark nodded shyly. “Around then—yeah.”
You laughed, and Mark’s face grew hotter from embarrassment. It was like he was being made fun of, like you thought his feelings were some spectacle to laugh at. Maybe you were going to say he was “cute” for feeling that way or something, and that was probably worse.
But Mark pushed the discomfort down. He tried to believe that you were just so surprised that you couldn’t help but laugh. It didn’t matter, anyway; you two were mostly good now.
“Yo,” you said, frowning as your eyes unfocused. “I feel like we’re forgetting something.”
Mark chewed on that thought for a moment before he frantically leapt to his feet. Panic bubbled in his chest when he realized what—or who—exactly they were missing.
“The fucking baby’s still in the car.”
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Mark had not ever felt such intense parental fear in his life.
Well, he supposed he hadn’t felt parental fear ever, actually. Not until he realized he left his robot baby (which happened to be 45% of his grade) in his car. Three spine-chilling minutes that made Mark question whether he was even any good at being a dad.
But, when Mark looked over to see how panicked you looked, he realized that you both had something in common. The two of you looked absolutely crazy, sprinting to the parking lot in a desperate attempt to get to their robot baby.
Honestly, Mark felt like his life wouldn’t be as fun without a little crazy.
It was a few days after the car incident when Mark decided to take matters into his own hands. So what if you two had no common hobbies? That didn’t mean you had absolutely nothing in common. He concluded that if he couldn’t find something for you both to enjoy, then he would just do all of your favorite things until something stuck.
That was how he ended up dragging a planter box into his apartment. He had gotten it off Facebook Marketplace for a cheap price after two entire days of stalking the listings. Mark had to drive about fifteen miles to pick it up, so he hoped you would like it.
You looked up from the child development textbook you were reading with inquisitive eyes. Mark was a heaving mess from having to lug the planter box from his car. You set your book down and got up to see why Mark was lingering in the entryway.
“What’s that?” you asked.
He probably looked painfully awkward as he tried to carry the oblong planter box. Mark struggled for a moment before giving up and setting it on the ground, right in the middle of the living room. His mother would have scolded him for getting dirt on his floor so recklessly, so he made a mental note to vacuum later.
“We have nothing in common,” he said.
“Yes, I think we’ve already gone over that.”
“Yeah, but you’re living here. I’m not gonna make you miserable with all my gaming and basketball talk all the time.” Mark gestured to the planter box. “Since you like gardening, I figured you could at least be entertained by this.”
You didn’t respond for a moment, so Mark continued, “Or, uh… you could teach me about plants and stuff,” he tried, but his heart was hammering in his chest. Was he fucking up already? Maybe you didn’t even like gardening anymore and this was all for nothing. “Sorry, I can return—”
“How’d you know I liked gardening?” you cut in to ask.
Mark blanched. “Um… you mentioned it during your introduction in AP Lit. You told the class you liked gardening, so I just assumed you would still be into it… I don’t know.”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah, I do.”
He wasn’t sure if his eyes were just playing tricks on him, but he swore the sun shone brighter when you smiled. Golden rays of light streamed into the room when your face broke into a wide grin, and Mark could see leftover traces of sun in your eyes. So warm and happy that he felt his soul light up.
“Come on,” you said, reaching forward to grab Mark’s hand and lace your fingers with his. “I’ll show you how to grow some flowers. Which ones did you get?”
Mark checked the packet and flipped it over for you to see. “Sunflowers.”
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Parenting was hard.
Almost an entire month of being a father, and the only thing Mark gathered was that parenting was pretty fucking hard.
So, naturally, Mark had to explode eventually. There was only so much a man could stand. From having to wake up multiple times throughout the night, spend basketball practices babysitting, and change diapers between classes, Mark was certain he would suffocate under the pressure of parenting.
And he was anxious.
Anxious about the project. Anxious about Frisk. Anxious about you.
Mark truly couldn’t get a read on you; it was almost impossible to tell if he had peeled back every single layer of yours, or if there were some still left. There were days where he thought you were truly into him, and then there were days where Mark couldn’t gauge where you were at. He felt like he had fallen for someone who wouldn’t ever take him seriously.
That was how he ended up arguing with you in the living room. At this point, Mark was going to have to go to Dr. Han’s office hours because why the hell was the baby allowed to wake them up at four in the morning? He was far too tired to think straight, but Mark’s tired, irritable state left him vulnerable and ready to start an argument.
“See, if you didn’t decide to move in on your own—which you never even asked me for permission, by the way—then we wouldn’t be in this situation right now,” Mark said, tugging a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. “I really don’t understand what you were thinking.”
“I was thinking that a mom and a dad should—”
“We’re not actual parents, Y/N!” he yelled. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but this is literally a group project! We aren’t even a real couple!”
You stiffened. “Okay, whatever. That doesn’t change the fact that it isn’t easier to take care of Frisk when we’re together.”
Mark stood up and walked toward you. “How is it easier? Give me one example.” He stared at you wordlessly while you were finding the words to argue back, but you stayed quiet. “Neither of us can get a good night’s sleep because Frisk wakes up crying every single night. If you stayed at your apartment, then we could’ve switched off.”
“If you don’t want me to stay here that badly, then you can just tell me to go home instead of making me feel like shit,” you muttered.
“I make you feel like shit? You make me feel like shit, Y/N!” Mark replied, exasperated. “You’re constantly making these comments about how you want me, but none of it feels sincere! It’s like you enjoy playing these… these mind games with me.”
“Mark, we’re both tired. Let’s talk about this another time.”
You started walking away, but Mark was on your heels. He knew that if he didn’t get closure for this conversation, then he probably wouldn’t get the chance to talk to you about this again.
“I really wanna talk about this now, though,” Mark pleaded. “Come on, I know you’re messing with my head so just—”
You stopped in your tracks to turn on Mark, venom in your words as you spat, “Listen, why are you so fucking insecure that you’re so set on making me seem like the bad guy here? It’s always ‘you’re messing with me’ and ‘you don’t take me seriously’ while leaving zero room for the fact that shit, Mark, maybe I genuinely like you!”
Shame bubbled under Mark’s skin like boiling magma, hiccuping spurts of lava that threatened to make him go red in the face. You had a point; he had been spinning everything on you, which was the single worst thing he could do as a man. As a friend. Whatever you two were considered, Mark hadn’t been treating you right, but he still hated the doubt that kept rising in his chest.
It had all been too fast for him.
“I know,” he started softly, grabbing your hands so gently, as if they would shatter like glass. “I know, and I’m sorry. I just—it’s hard for me to understand why you want me when you—”
You threw your head back and forced out a laugh, and Mark thought you were going crazy until he realized your exasperation had just boiled over into hysteria. You seemed lost for a moment, just staring up at him with a pained look in your eyes.  
“Why does anyone need a reason to like someone?” you asked. “That’s the whole point, Mark. You’re not supposed to understand why you’re feeling the way you are. The same goes for you. I mean, hell, you wanted me when I was still dating Vernon.”
Mark didn’t know what to say, so he just gawked at you until you continued, “Now, let me ask you the real question here: do you actually like me, or did you just like the idea of me?”
Mark realized he had put you on a pedestal this entire time. From the beginning, he had never truly liked you; he just liked the idea of you—the version of you he fabricated in his head. After spending so much time with you over the past few weeks, he had gotten to know the real you, and it was a stark difference from the person he thought you were.
In short, you were absolutely crazy. You were sort of a mess, didn’t think before you spoke, and it seemed as though you acted upon every impulsive thought you had. Mark was quite terrified of you sometimes, if he had to be perfectly honest. He had never seen or met a woman as brazen as you were.
And yet, he liked you.
Mark liked you so much more than he liked the girl he thought you were.
He liked you, who spoke her mind so shamelessly, not thinking about the consequences of her actions until it was too late. The you that was so outspoken, so unapologetic. Mark adored every little flaw of yours that got on his nerves and drove him mad, and he liked you so much that he preferred the you he had seen now, as opposed to who he thought you were before.
But now, as you stared at him, expecting an answer, he really didn’t know how to express what he was feeling into words. All Mark could do was look at you helplessly, shaking his head because he needed you to know that he didn’t just like the thought of having you.
“Alright, then,” you whispered, clearly upset. You sucked in a sharp breath and then straightened up, looking right into his eyes. “Your name’s Mark. You have an older brother who also went to our high school. You’re from Toronto, Canada, but you’re not a big fan of maple syrup or ice hockey. You like watermelon, though, and you’re also pretty good with a guitar. You aren’t sure about what you wanna be when you grow up, but you like playing basketball, so you’re gonna stick with that for as long as you’re interested.”
Mark’s jaw nearly went slack. He had pieced it together while you spoke, but the answer was just too incomprehensible for him. There was no way you remembered his AP Literature introduction, too.
“What else?” you continued. “Oh, right. You wore that colorblock sweater nearly every day; you played the piano in the band room whenever you and your friends were in there for lunch; and you would always wait behind if someone had to stop and tie their shoes. Oh, and I remember when you wore your shorts the wrong way during P.E. that one time. Everyone laughed at you, even the teacher, but you weren’t even embarrassed. You just laughed it off.”
“I liked you, too, you idiot,” you finished. You stammered for a moment before correcting yourself, “Like—like you.”
There was a long minute of silence with Mark just trying to wrap his head around what you had just unloaded in front of him. With great hesitance, he asked, “When I told you that I liked you in high school and you laughed, was that just because you realized we felt the same way?”
Slowly, the flickering anger across your face fell apart, and your realization that dawned upon you was more sad than shocking. Mark had always felt insecure around you, but now he was truly terrified that he had been misreading you this entire time.
“Did you think I was laughing at your feelings?” you asked. The ice in your stare was quickly replaced with an apologetic gaze. “I’m so sorry, Mark. I really didn’t mean to. I just thought it was funny because we both felt the same way. I was just—”
“No, I’m sorry,” he corrected. “I was jumping to conclusions because I was so insecure. I didn’t think a girl like you could ever like a guy like me.”
“A guy like you?” You frowned, and then you reached forward to cup his face. “Mark, why do you think so little of yourself? I told you, any girl would kill to be in my shoes.”
Mark looked at you—looked at you with all the stars of the universe in his eyes. “I don’t want any girl, Y/N. I want you,” he confessed. “I like you more than I thought I did.” He shook his head and added, “I mean, I liked you before the project, but I had no idea what kind of person you were. I’m saying I like you a lot more now that I know you better.”
A smile stretched across your face, and Mark wondered if you knew just how beautiful you looked when your eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I like you, too,” was all you said, and it was all he needed to hear.
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Today marked the end of the marriage and baby project.
It was a little bittersweet, although Mark thought it was odd that he had spent a month taking care of Frisk only to flip the doll over and power it off. He pretended it was more sentimental than it felt, but he was honestly glad to be done with the project. It taught him a lot, but Mark was not going to miss being woken up in the middle of the night.
You, on the other hand, seemed the most upset when you were handing in your final report. You even held onto Frisk a little longer before giving her away, watching her be piled on top of the other robot babies with sad eyes.
“Would anyone like to share what they learned over this past month?” Dr. Han asked the class. “It can be a simple observation or you can pull something from your write-up.”
Mark didn’t even feel like he was in total control of his body when his hand flew up. He didn’t even want to share his thoughts with the class. But the words were already in his head, not even budging from his memory when most of the heads in the room turned to face him.
“I can go,” he offered, sparing you a quick, nervous glance before standing up.
“Parenting is hard,” Mark started, so matter-of-factly that the class erupted into laughter. He waited for the room to simmer down before continuing, “I felt like an unfit father most of the time. Actually, an unfit husband.” This got a few more chuckles out of his classmates. “Taking care of Frisk felt like a chore. I wanted to split up the tasks with Y/N, but she always insisted on doing things together. We argued a lot because I felt like it was a waste of both our times, but she was right. Parenting isn’t about finding the easy way out.”
Dr. Han nodded with a hum of approval. “You’re right, Mark, parenting is—”
“And,” Mark kept going, “you can’t be a good parent if you can’t be a good partner. It’s sort of like, uh, gardening; you can’t just focus on one flower and let the others around it die. You have to cover all the bases.”
“That’s great, Mark,” Dr. Han said. “You and Y/N still get a C, though.”
Mark let his shoulders drop, disappointed. “Man.”
Mark walked back to his row and slumped in his seat, defeated. You were hiding your smile, nudging his shoulder to let him know that you acknowledged his speech.
The reality of the situation was that you and Mark were called into Dr. Han’s office last week. She initially said something vague about needing to talk to you two about the project, but then she brought up concerns about Frisk’s health. Apparently, she noted the change in temperature while Frisk was locked in the car, which was “a very dangerous situation to put a child in.” Dr. Han also didn’t care for Mark’s explanation that Frisk should have cried as soon as she realized her parents were leaving without her.
Normally, you two would’ve failed the project, but since your reports and final paper were so detailed and you and Mark went the extra mile of living together, Dr. Han decided to take pity on you two. The best she could give you was a C, which Mark didn’t mind considering he half-despised that stupid robot baby.
(He sort of missed her, though.)
“Nice try,” you whispered with a playful smile, “but it’s okay. I give you an A in my heart. Maybe extra credit for the gardening analogy.”
Mark flushed a little. “Thanks, I guess.” He looked over at the stack of papers on Dr. Han’s desk, and then he tuned in for a bit of her concluding statements about the marriage and baby project. “So what does this mean for us?”
Under the desk, you reached over to grip Mark’s hand. He squeezed back and then looked over his shoulder to see an easygoing grin on your face. You shrugged your shoulders and leaned back in your seat.
“I guess we can stop being fake husband and wife,” you said, “and we can start being a real couple.”
Mark snickered, quite pleased with your response as he turned back to face the front of the room.
“Yeah,” he mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. “I like the sound of that.”
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Mark was always nervous before games, but even more so today.
Not only was it the first home game of the season, but he hadn’t exactly been in prime condition ever since he started dating you. He was pretty sure half of his stamina was spent on you during nights, and then he was just sluggish during the day. Since you had finally moved back to your own apartment, he thought he would start seeing you less, but it was quite the opposite; you still came back almost every  night. (Not that you lived very far, anyway.)
He was currently in the locker room changing into his jersey. The rest of his teammates were filling up their water bottles outside the court, and Mark told them he’d catch up with them later.
“Hey there, tiger,” an all too familiar voice called from the doorway.
Mark whipped his head around to see you standing there in one of his jerseys, which he suspected you stole from his closet. He had to admit it looked way better on you than it did on him, and he couldn’t get enough. One of his secret desires had to be seeing you in his uniform, as oversized as it looked on your figure.
Just seeing you there put his nerves at ease.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, a happy grin lighting up his face. “I thought you hated basketball games.”
“I do,” you whined. You walked over and pulled your boyfriend in for a hug. “I like you, though.”
“Wow,” he breathed out. “This means everything to me, Y/N. You have no idea.”
You giggled. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I distracted you a little before your game?”
“I—I don’t know, I…” Mark floundered for words before he caved with a sigh. “Fine.”
You immediately started nipping at Mark’s neck, grabbing fistfuls of the front of his shirt as he let out an appreciative sigh. If he wasn’t careful, he was sure to get carried away, and God knew how badly that would end with his game starting anytime soon.
Just before Mark was about to let a groan slip, though, he heard loud clapping followed by the sound of his teammates singing the happy birthday song.
This wasn’t happening.
Mark pulled away from you to look in the direction of the music. Surely enough, his entire team was walking in with Chenle and Johnny leading them at the front.
“Happy birthday to you,” they all sang in broken unison, “happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Mark Lee—”
“What the fuck?” Mark cut in, and he pushed your hands down when he noticed you were clapping and singing along, too. “You know it’s not my birthday!”
“—happy birthday to you!”
They finished their song with a chorus of cheers and laughs. Mark’s face heated up. Maybe he deserved this. Maybe this was karma for walking in on both Johnny and Jaehyun in the past.
Jungwoo emerged from the middle of the group, holding a cake that read: Congrats you are no longer a VIRGIN.
(It was important to note that the word “virgin” was in uppercase.)
Tasteful.
“Good job, Mark.” Chenle patted his back firmly before turning to his girlfriend. “And thank you, Y/N.”
You gave him a thumbs up before trying some of the frosting on the cake. “Ooh, it’s vanilla.”
Mark was sure his face was red as a tomato. “You guys suck.” He scrunched up his nose when Johnny urged him to try some of the cake, but he ended up complying and taking a bite from the slice he was holding. “I’ll admit the cake’s good, though.”
Johnny laughed before he raised his voice to announce, “Alright, we’re playing soon, so let’s wrap this up and bully him later.”
Chatter rose from the team again, and they all started filing into the gym. Mark hung back to let out a groan and bury his face in your chest.
“It was a good cake,” you tried, carding your fingers through his hair.
“Good cake,” he agreed. “A little wordy, though. They could’ve just written ‘virgin’ and crossed it out.”
“You can do that for my cake,” you suggested. “My born again virgin cake.”
Mark let out a sound that was between a groan and a laugh. He really couldn’t get enough of you, even when you were making fun of him. Despite how many times you both agreed on having absolutely nothing in common, it was surprisingly easy to talk to you.
After an entire month of all the pain and suffering that came with taking care of Frisk, he came to the conclusion that maybe parenting really was a gift. Even if that gift happened to be wrapped with barbed wire.
So maybe Mark Lee had terrible luck, but one thing was for sure: he really hit the jackpot with you.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ if you made it all the way to the end i will kiss your cheeks!!! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed the marriage and baby project ♡ at first i meant for this to be way more romcom but it got a tiny bit angsty unexpectedly :’) basically mark crushing on reader slowly turning into mark falling in love with the reader for who she is because <33 mark lee <33 
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BONUS ▸ 
“I got here as fast as I could,” you said, trying to catch your breath through your words. “It actually happened?”
“Yeah, look.” Mark placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you to his small balcony, gesturing to the golden flowers atop their tall stalks. “The sunflowers finally bloomed.”
4K notes · View notes
mrkis · 8 months
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birthday treat. (m.l)
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PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 1.9k
SYNOPSIS: giving birthday boy mark his birthday treat
CONTENT WARNINGS: established relationship, 18+ content, kissing, light nipping, swearing, ass grabbing, oral (m receiving), blowjob, slight face fucking, unprotected sex, praising, creampie, cockwarming.
authors note| happy bday to my lil love♡
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You couldn’t hide your excitement as Mark walks through the front door of your apartment, tired face lit up in surprise and awe at the birthday decorations that covering your walls, green and red balloons filled with helium pressed to the ceiling and he jumps back in surprise as you pull the thread of the party popper, the confetti spraying him in the face.
He laughs, dropping his bag down by his feet as he opens his arms wide when you come running towards him, throwing yourself into his embrace and wrapping your own arms around him as tightly as you can.
Mark exhales softly as he returns the hug, nuzzling his nose into the crevice of your neck and breathing in your scent as he rocks your body from side to side, laying small, delicate pecks on your skin and you grin widely, leaning back from the hug to take a good look at him.
He looks tired, unable to keep eye contact with you for too long without his eyes fluttering close for a few seconds and reopening, dark prominent circles underneath. It makes you frown seeing how tired your boyfriend is, knowing he’s giving it his all during his schedules on the limited amount of sleep he’s getting. 
You almost feel a little guilty for asking him to come over after his schedule was over, knowing deep down that he should’ve gone straight to the dorms to get some well needed rest. But you missed him, and you didn’t exactly want to miss his birthday
You move your one hand to cup his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb as you whisper, “Happy birthday”
Mark gives you a sluggish smile, “Thank you, baby” He presses his lips to yours in a kiss for a few seconds before he trails them down your throat and you smile at the loving touch, goosebumps trailing down your spine when you feel his hands dip underneath your shirt and the warmth of his palms on your lower back. 
He nips at your skin, causing your head to tilt to the side to give him more access and your lips curl into a grin when his hands slip downwards, fingers splayed across your ass and gripping gently to pull you closer to him.
“Are you tired?”
“Not really” Mark answers, but he doesn’t stop his movements, pulling you flush against him as he nips down harder on your skin. “A little, I don’t know”
“Why don’t we go to bed?” You suggest, trying to keep yourself calm and collected when you feel his mouth brush over the sensitive spot on your neck as he makes his way back up to your face, lips brushing over yours. “Let you rest for a while and we’ll celebrate your birthday tomorrow?”
“I’m not that tired” Mark tells you as he reconnects your lips and you sigh into the kiss, arms tightening around his shoulders. It’s sweet and soft, the slow movements of your mouths, but when you curl your hand at the nape of his neck, his mouth moves hungrily against yours.
His tongue slides over yours and his chest vibrates with a low moan, the grip on your ass tightening as he tries to pull you even close despite you being as close as you could possibly be. 
You allow him to do whatever he wants, your breath getting caught at the back of your throat when he sucks on your tongue, when he nibbles down on your bottom lip and pulls it, when he rubs his front against yours and you feel his hardened cock beneath his jeans.
“Mark” You call out his name as you break the kiss, staring at him and noticing how his eyes are still closed, his lips swollen and wet, breathing heavily from the lack of oxygen. You gently tug at his hair and he tiredly opens his eyes, finally looking back at you. “What do you want?”
“You” Mark answers, licking at his lips. “I want you. I need you. I’ve missed you”
You smile at his babbling and take his hand in your own, leading him towards your bedroom and he follows behind closely, hovering behind you as he drags his feet across the floorboards, squeezing your hand every so often. 
When you reach the bedroom, he’s already heading towards the bed as you close the door, dropping your hand to pop the buttons on his jeans and pull down the zipper, ridding himself of the clothing and stumbling over his own feet. 
He palms his cock over the front of his boxers and you almost drool at the sight, having not seen him in person like this for such a long time it makes your thighs clench together, watching as he rubs himself over the fabric as he looks at you, waiting for you.
“How do you want me?” You ask him quietly and he groans at the question, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
“On your knees. Please” His plea makes a warmth spread through your chest and you smile, walking over to stand in front of him before slowly dropping down to your knees and looking up at him. He finds you so beautiful, so angelic with your pretty eyes staring at him and he becomes flustered for a moment, licking his lips nervously as he tugs his boxers down his legs, tensing under your touch when he feels your fingers ghost over his thighs.
His cock slaps against his stomach once freed completely and he wraps his hand around himself, pressing his lips together tightly when he taps the head of his cock against your lips, moaning softly as you stick out your tongue to get a taste. 
“Put it in your mouth” 
You don’t hesitate to do so, spitting on his cock for extra lubrication before taking him in your mouth, reeling at the groans that erupt from his chest as he drops his hand from his cock to rest it on top of your head. 
He doesn’t grab your hair, nor does he control your movements as he allows you to do as you please, taking him further into your mouth and swallowing around him, almost choking as his hips accidentally jerk forward and his cock thrusts down the back of your throat.
“Fuck” Mark curses between gritted teeth, neck straining as his head tilts back. 
The sounds he makes for you has your mind whirling with arousal, wanting nothing more than for him to cum down your throat, wanting to swallow every last drop he gives you. So you change your pace, bobbing your head faster on his cock and using your hand to pump the rest of him, the other fondling his balls which makes him whimper softly, thighs trembling at the touch. 
“You’re so good to me, you know…” He suddenly praises you under his breath, stroking the top of your head as he looks down at you. “My girl, yeah?”
You hum, the vibrations around his cock causing him to moan loudly and the grip on your head becomes a little tighter, holding you still as he lazily rolls his hips forwards and you do your best to swallow around him, trying your hardest not to gag on his size. 
“I’ve missed you, missed your mouth… pretty mouth” He whispers, licking at his lips as his hips begin to stutter, edging closer and closer to his orgasm and your chest swells with pride. “Baby, you’re going to make me cum if you keep looking at me like that”
“I want you to” You tell him as you pull your mouth off of his cock but continue jerking him off, smiling as he thrusts in your hand. “Cum on my tongue. You deserve it”
“Wait,” Mark’s fingers wrap around your wrist and you stop your movements, staring up at him confused as he breathes heavily. “Can I cum inside you? I want to cum inside you”
Your lips stretch into a smile as you nod, standing up from your kneeling position to quickly rid yourself of your clothes, dropping them carelessly to the floor as Mark lays across your bed, resting his head on the pillows as he stares at you tiredly with his hand outstretched.
You take it, allowing him to pull you on top of him and he moulds his lips with yours, craning his neck to kiss you deeper as you settle yourself above him, resting your thighs on either side of his hips and he lets go of your hand to grip the flesh of your thighs, squeezing the skin between his fingers before he trails behind you, grabbing at your ass desperately and you fight the urge to laugh, lining the head of his cock at your entrance. 
Breaking the kiss, your brows pinch together at the stretch, your palm flat on Mark’s chest as you ease yourself down on him and Mark gasps, mouth falling open as he draws in a sharp breath. 
“Fuck, Mark” You gasp once he fills you up completely, buried to the hilt and you would struggle to kep yourself upright if it wasn’t for Mark’s grip on your ass, squeezing you reassuringly and you begin to start rocking your hips.
There’s a crease in his brow as he furrows them, mouth ajar as moans and grunts spill from his lips, the tightness and warmth of your pussy making him unable to think straight and his fingers flex across your asscheeks, rolling his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, 
Your pussy pulses around him as his eyes meet yours, filled with love and adoration that would’ve made you start crying if you weren’t so horny and desperate to cum—and for him to cum inside you.
“Feels so good,” Mark tells you. “You don’t understand how much I’ve missed being inside you, baby… I’ve missed feeling you like this. Think about it all the time… It’s crazy how much I’m into you”
“I hope so” You smile, grinding your hips down and rubbing your clit against the smooth skin of his pelvis. “I’m crazy about you too”
“Makes me feel like one lucky guy” He dumbly grins up at you but it slips away in almost an instant when your walls clamp around his cock, and he curses under his breath, his hips fucking up into you faster. “Do you love me?”
“Always”
“Tell me you love me,” He begins to pant, hands moving from your ass to grab your hips, pressing his thumbs into your side. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum, baby… Tell me you love me”
You repeat the three words like a mantra as you rock your hips faster, your own orgasm building up and your voice starts to break, tears brimming in your eyes at the pace he fucks up into you and he whispers those three words back to you.
He’s filling you up in an instant, spurts of cum painting your walls white as your own orgasm washes through your thighs quivering around his frame and you struggle to keep yourself upright. He’s trembling beneath you, breathing heavily as his cock pulses, unable to control the jerking movements of his hips but gasps due to the sensitivity he feels. 
“Jesus Christ—fuck” Mark’s body goes limp, chest and cheeks flushed, hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead, eyes almost ready to give in and sleep. You even go to move yourself off of him when you see his tiredness kicking back in but he’s whining, tightening his grip on your waist. “Wait, no, baby. Stay”
“Stay?” You can’t help but laugh as you push his head out of his eyes, stroking his cheek affectionately. “We can’t stay like this”
“Please?” He asks again and you feel yourself crumble as you see his pleading eyes. “Just for a few minutes… I’m not ready to let go of my girl yet”
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©mrkis
2K notes · View notes
taexoxosgf · 4 months
Text
FORMULA 1
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PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader
WORDS 3.5k
SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.
WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol
NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb
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You spot Mark across the airport track.
Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.
Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.
You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.
You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.
ML: Enjoying the view?
ML: I know I am
You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.
ML: Come here.
You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.
ML: Baby don’t be like that
You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving
You: Bye
Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.
People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.
There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.
There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.
Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.
You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.
Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.
The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.
You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.
“Leaving so soon?”
You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.
“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.
Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.
All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.
You know what this means.
I don’t even want to think about it.
There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.
You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.
Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.
“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.
‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.
You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.
His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.
As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.
The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.
Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.
You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.
“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.
You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.
“Since when do you like good girls?”
Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.
He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.
“I did until I met you.”
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“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.
One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.
You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.
Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.
His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.
You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.
His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.
“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.
“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”
“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.
He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.
You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.
Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.
“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.
“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.
You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.
He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.
His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”
He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.
“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.
His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.
You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.
“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.
“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.
Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.
Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.
As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.
“Don’t tease, slut.”
“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.
As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.
“Spit on it,” he demands.
From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.
Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.
Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.
The feeling was literal heaven.
Oh, how you could never get used to this.
His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.
Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.
Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.
A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.
“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.
You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.
As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.
“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.
“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”
Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”
This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.
“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”
Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.
“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.
Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.
The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.
“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.
His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.
“Fuck.”
You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.
Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.
“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”
You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”
“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.
“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”
His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”
“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.
“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.
“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.
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