tags. fluff, drabble. childhood friends to lovers. 390 words.
inspired by when life gives you tangerines. i also imagined this mark while writing...
"oh my god, you follow me everywhere!"
from elementary school, all the way to university — mark lee follows you everywhere. it started with playing in the same sandbox. now you're both adults in university, yet he's still here. always.
"wanted to have lunch with you," he says. you could even hear the pout in his tone.
"you're such a loser."
you sigh, shutting your book and placing it on the grass beside you. you're sitting behind the ncit library building, where maple trees veil over every spot. you lean against the branch, mark mirroring your action. he's still pouting.
still, he unwraps two bento boxes — of course, he brought two. well aware of your skipping-lunch-tendency. mark picks the shrimps off your box only to peel them and place them back into yours. he then peels a tangerine, popping one slice into your mouth.
with your mouth full you utter,
"are you going to follow me until i'm all grey and wrinkly?"
"if you'd let me."
oh. you couldn't stop your eyes that trail towards his lips, gaze lingering. a hue of pink spreads across your cheeks, to which mark takes notice.
"why are you all red?"
you pat your cheeks with your hands, "i'm always this red!"
"no you're not."
he inches towards you, bringing a palm towards your forehead. "are you getting sick? is your dorm room too cold?"
immediately, you shake your head, avoiding eye contact. but mark isn't mark if he doesn't constantly worry about you.
"what's wrong, yn?"
"i..." you mutter. "wanna kiss you..."
ahhhh. mark's blinking, processing your words. shame fills you, as you mentally curse yourself for saying the words out loud. now the poor guy in front of you is short-circuiting.
"you don't have to —"
mark's lips crashes against yours. it's clumsy, nervous, and it tastes like tangerines. but you kiss back anyway, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
it's perfect. he's perfect.
when you pull away, his eyes are glazed over, affection swimming in his brown hues. he caresses your cheeks with the tenderness only he's ever given you.
"this is so stupid but," he whispers, "i'll peel all your tangerines until we're grey and wrinkly. if you'd let me."
a/n; my man so sexyyyuhhh🤤 also title is ib lala del rey
cw: lowkey slice of life, the stoner mark agenda has returned, edibles but no one takes them, reader likes pink, freaky kisses
summary: ur dealer couldn’t be bothered to meet u at your spotttt caught a vibee baby r you coming for the ride ..?
rubbing your arms for warmth, you looked around expectantly. getting out of your car at all when it was this eerily dark outside had to have been the second most stupid thing you had ever done. what was the first? agreeing to a meet your dealer at his HOUSE instead of just at the mall like you usually do. you figured mark was pretty chill and that you would be totally safe — but it’s cold outside and the moon was being shaded by clouds and it’s almost 8pm. all that and mark’s rude ass can’t even answer the door. you pulled your phone out of your pocket to dial mark’s number for the third time with one hand while the other was tucked under your juicy couture jacket.
“hey man, i'm outside and i already knocked.” you started knocking again, “can you call me back so—”
the door flew open, “hello?” you were met with a tall man’s frame; he was sporting a healthy head of auburn hair and a dark graphic t-shirt. “are you lost?” it almost looked like he was fighting back a smile.
yeah, you did not need to be dealing with this right now. no way you knocked on the wrong door.
“does, uh, anyone named mark live here? he said this was his house.”
the guy frowned at you in confusion, “um… no, i don't know a.. mark. sorry.”
heat rose up the back of your neck from pure embarrassment as you looked down at your feet, “oh god, i am so sorry to bother you. have a good night.” you turned to make your awkward escape.
“wait.” he attempted to stop you in your tracks. the guy at the door’s apologetic frown was replaced by a lazy smile, as if he’d had that expression this whole time “i’m playing with you, come in side. mark headed out some time ago, he’ll be back soon.”
the dirty look you gave this man was so sharp it could cut rock. there was just no reason for him to have done that. like at all. 'i'm playing with you' ??? you don't even know this man. but alas, you wordlessly walked past him into the front room of mark’s house when he moved to the side. you were already here and it was cold outside so.
mark’s house was nice as hell. looking around his crib, you could tell he was really into neat maximalism — like there was shit everywhere, but it all fit right into place, like it was made to be there. he was super rich off selling beats and demos so his front room was big just like the rest of the house; spacious and looked like something from pinterest.
you pulled your eyes away from one of mark’s nicely decorated walls to where his friend had taken to sitting on the couch. you both spoke at the same time;
“when is mark getting back again?”
“what was your name, princess?”
the pet-name made heat rise to the surface of your skin. you kept your cool though. “mm, you tell me yours.”
“what? but i asked first..”
“if you tell me, you get my answer as a reward.” you shrugged at him and smirked up at you quizzically from mark's accent couch.
“you're crazy… i’m haechan.”
you scoffed at his childish response, “ok. i’m y/n.” you held your hand out for him to shake and you should have known what he was going to do. he gently pressed his lips to the back of your hand. you weren't mad at him, but he was really trying it.
“why are you still standing up? sit down next to me,” he tugged at your hand that he was still holding. “markie won't be long, he said he went to get some special little baggies for customers.” well, markie better hurry his ass up.
you really couldn't make this up. you sat dow n next to this overly flirty stranger that you just met at your plug’s house while you waited for him to pick up some damn ziploc bags. you sat sideways, facing towards him on the couch and he mirrored your actions.
sigh. better pass the time. “so, who are you to mark? his boyfriend or..?”
haechan furrowed his brows “he hasn’t told you about me? i'm so hurt. we’re good friends. i literally flew out to see him.”
“well, obviously not that good if i've never heard about you.” you laughed and he elbowed you gently.
“that's mean.” he smirked, “what are you to him, anyway? just a customer?”
your mouth dropped open slightly. okay then. “actually, he’s my plug and we went to high school together. i wonder when my plug is getting here so i can go the fuck home...” you said that last part under your breath.
“am i not good enough company?” his voice became momentarily raspy with faux sadness at the idea.
you smiled in his face. “nope.”
“wow, well lucky for you, i like ‘em bratty.” he smiled back at you innocently as if those nasty words didn't just come out of his mouth.
“excuse me… i’m not ‘bratty’” you waved finger quotes at him, “i just don't like to entertain bullshit.”
“okay, my bad, my bad.” he paused turning away from you. peace at last? he turned back. “so… what are you doing later?”
“it’s 8 o’clock in the evening.”
“so... nothing then?”
you sighed. markkkk… you thought, save me from myself.
“yeah. i’m not doing anything later. why, you wanna hang out with me?” you mocked. seconds after saying you don't entertain bullshit, mind you.
“oh my god,” he feigned excitement, “are you asking me out?”
you couldn't help but laugh at him. and you really wished you hadn't because it took away the seriousness of your statement; “you're so annoying. is this how you get girls?”
“no, this is actually a new technique i’m testing.”
you laughed again… “don't try this on nobody else.”
“yknow. you’ve got a real attitude.” he raised a brow at you.
“and do.”
“and when i’m being so nice to you...”
“lucky me!”
“i think you liike me.” he practically just sang to you.
you scrunched up your face in pure disbelief, you couldn't help but laugh at his audacity. “cut that out.”
haechan leaned in a little closer “that wasn't a ‘no’.”
“well, it wasn't a ‘yes’ either.” you put your hand against his chest in the weakest possible effort to push him away from you. he wrapped his hand gently around your wrist against his chest.
“you.. don't like me?” his voice dropped by an octave, slowly inching slightly closer to you and without realising it, you were doing the same.
“no…”
“no?” his lips were by your left ear, just about grazing the skin “you sure?”
your voice was barely audible. “mhm.”
“mmm…” he hummed against your skin, pressing his lips to your jaw, “i don't believe you.”
shit, you didn't believe yourself either. the sounds of his low voice made you shiver. giving in, you wrapped one of your hands around the back of his neck to stop his lips from lifting off of you and he took this as a silent plea for him to to keep going. with his newfound confidence ( if he could gain any more ) he dragged his tongue flat against your neck before leaving an open mouthed kiss there.
“you smell so good…” haechan moaned kissing upwards on your neck, working towards your parted lips. he brushed his lips against yours, tongue darting out just slightly to tease you. “you want me?”
goosebumps rose on the surface of your skin. you couldn't bring yourself to respond. that'd be accepting defeat entirely too fast.
“hm? you want me to touch you?” one of his hands moved to cup your jaw as he moved his plush lips against yours, gently sucking your bottom lip between his teeth before pressing another peck to your lips.
“i-i—”
the sound of keys rattling in the door startled you out of haechan’s warm hold and thrust you back into reality. he moved his hand from cupping your jaw to the pocket of his jeans and you pushed yourself to sink backwards into the couch. the two of you were the perfect picture of having done nothing wrong or suspicious at all! ever!!
“honey, i’m home!” with laughter in his voice, mark pushed open the front door holding two heavy looking bags. he started making his way towards the kitchen, damn near dragging the bags on the ground, when his eyes registered you on his couch.
he smiled at the sight of you, “yo, how'd you get in? i assumed you'd be late, so i took forever.” right.
“i let her in.” haechan slightly puffs his chest out proudly when he says this.
you squinted your eyes at mark, “your phones broken?”
“no, dude, like five minutes after i entered the store, it died. like ran out of battery.” you could only sigh. got all this money for this fancy, uncomfortable ass couch but he doesn't have a charger in his car? right. luckily for mark, though, something about his naturally joyful demeanour made it impossible to be pissed off at him for any more than like 20 minutes. and that was about as long as you had been… hanging out with haechan. “i got you guys some stuff!”
“aw, thank you..." you kinda bad for giving him that attitude now. "uh, your house is nice, by the way. very arty.” you got up off the couch and followed him into the kitchen, haechan trailing not too far behind you.
mark attempted to suppress a big smile, turning his head towards you to say, “thank you.” before placing the bags on his kitchen island. “i feel bad that i took so long now.”
leant forward against the table and looking at his feet almost shyly, haechan decided to pipe up, “honestly, that might have been my fault. i asked him to pick me up some groceries to cook with.”
you turned to him slowly, “you told me he was just getting ziploc bags…”
“i wanted to ease your mind.” haechan shrugged.
“mm.”
mark looked between the two of you with an skeptical look. “do you two already know each other?”
you spoke over each other;
“feels that way.”
“no.”
mark furrowed his brows, “sure, ok. let me get those pot brownies.”
“brownies? i thought you'd be here for the hardcore stuff.” haechan huffed out, earning a push to the forehead from you.
"hardcore stuff— shut up." you scoffed at him, making him chuckle softly.
mark hovered around in his open fridge, seemingly looking for something before grabbing a container full of brownies out of there. “well, since you’re here, you wanna pick it out yourself? you get first dibs on this new batch.”
“oh my god, yeah.” you picked up an edge piece. “you're the best. what’d you get me at the store?”
mark laughed loudly at your bluntness. “i literally just almost forgot all about that,” he started rifling through the bag; “ta-da!” holding up a bunch of bags where the ziploc funtion was a polka-dotted pink instead of the usual clear or plasticky electric blue.
“waah.. cute.” haechan gawked.
“oh my godd!” you put your hand over your mouth, “how did you know i liked pink?”
he scanned over the pink track-set you had on. “uahh.. i guessed.”
smiling big, you leaned over to wrap your arms round him, triggering a scoff out of haechan. “thanks, they're adorable. i’ll put my brownie in it.”
“so, how long were you waiting outside?” mark set his elbow down and the island and rest his chin in his hand, “a long time?”
“not too long. your friend let me in.” you gestured toward haechan beside you.
“you know my name…”
mark raised one of his brows with a laugh, “i’m starting to feel like i should have hurried home, what the hell happened?”
“she's playing hard to get.”
you ignored haechan, turning to your dealer and whispering, “i think he has a crush on me.
“wow, ok.” mark scratched his head. “i don't know if i like this dynamic.”
“which dynamic?” a confused frown painted haechan's features. but he knew damn well.
mark's pointed finger switched between the two of you. “whatever this is. i’m getting, like, some sort of vibe.”
haechan shot him a knowing smile, “yeah? what kind of vibe?”
mark stared back at his friend suspiciously, and then his eyes found yours and you immediately avoided eye contact.
“aw, what the fuck guys!”
you leapt to defend yourself, “what??”
“you guys had sex on my accent couch?!”
“god, no.” haechan barked out a laugh, “no one’s fucking on that ugly couch. just a little heavy petting.” he shrugged off that last part like it made things any better. which it kinda did, but not by a lot.
you decided to soften the blow a little. “heavy petting is a huge overstatement.”
mark just sighed. and you could almost see him trying not to laugh. “god, well, i wish my job was as easy as you guys!”
“how long did it take you to come up with that one?”
“um. not long.” mark rubbed his forehead, “on my couch though? dude...”
haechan walked around you to stand face to face with mark on the opposite corner of the kitchen island you were gathered at. he dropped one of his hands onto his best friend’s shoulder. “relax, your couch is dry. surprisingly, because i’m pretty good at what i do.”
“mind you all we did was kiss so why would the couch be in any other state?”
haechan turned around giving you an incredulous expression while mark leaned to the side behind him, silently pretending to throw up.
“alright, well, thank you for the contraband.” you joked, walking over to give mark another hug. you then turned to haechan. “you want one too?”
he rolled his eyes playfully, “if you insist, c’mere.” he pulled you into a slightly too-long hug before pulling away and smiling at you. “i’m gonna text you, okay?”
you laughed. “i bet you are.”
after you left mark’s house, mark the silence of your absence settled on the house. haechan took this as a good excuse to slip out of the kitchen, unscathed. and he would have gotten away with it if he didn't start whistling ‘inconspicuously’ on his way out.
“donghyuck-ah.”
“woah,” he stopped in his tracks putting his hands up in defence at the full first name, before turning around “am i in trouble?”
“bro, she's my friend. don't make things uncomfortable.” he sighed.
“what do you think i’m going to do? i think she’s pretty, i wanna get to know her; is that a crime?”
“i don't know what you're capable of. you got her to kiss you within the half hour i was out of the house.”
haechan smiled, “i don't even know how i did that… we must be made for each other.”
꒰ annas note: ꒱ small drabble based on what lia said about mark :3 as the #1 markf i had to do my man justice.. (i take any excuse to write for him) and this was super cute!! i had a lot of fun writing hehe.. i hope i did it justice..
you and mark sat cuddled up in bed, legs intertwined as he held his phone up, a story on the bright screen. you look up at him after having your chest on his head, “mark.. does this not seem too childish?” you ask softly. you had asked if he could read you a small bedtime story and he agreed, happily.
mark looked down at you with a soft smile gracing his lips, “of course not sweetness, whatever helps you sleep a little better right?” he always did the most for you, no matter how busy he tends to be or if he’s too tired, he always drops everything for you. and you were always grateful.
“this one sound okay?” he showed you his screen and you read a little bit of it, nodding with a soft hum exiting your lips, “mhm, sounds good.” and so he started, his soft voice reciting the words to you. you loved how he sounded, the way he talked, the noises that would leave him.. it calmed you. he has a distinct way of speaking that always made your heart flutter.
“that’s life, no?” he mumbled, stroking your hair softly as you smiled, nodding along to what he’s reading, eyes closed. “thanks markie, goodnight..” you whisper.
“goodnight, sleep well. i’ll be here when you wake up, ‘kay?”
sam so confession, you know how i’m a Johnny bias… well i realized i’m actually a Mark bias too… i NEED NEED mark. Write me anything that pops up into your head.
-🌧️
Morning light spilled through the thin hotel curtains, pale and quiet. The city outside hadn’t fully woken up yet, but Mark had.
He’d been up for a while.
You could tell.
His guitar sat on the chair across the room, a few loose notes scribbled in a notebook beside it. His hair was messy, like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times already. Nerves.
It was the morning before his first real show.
And instead of pacing the room like you expected, Mark was standing at the edge of the bed watching you.
Not subtle about it either.
You stretched slowly under the blankets, catching him staring.
“Been watching long?” you murmured.
Mark didn’t bother pretending otherwise.“Long enough.”
His voice was rough with sleep and thick with desire.
The mattress dipped suddenly as he climbed onto the bed, one knee pressing into the sheets beside you. The energy rolling off him was restless, exactly the same electricity he carried right before stepping on stage.
“Thought you’d be practicing,” you said.
“Already did.”
His hand slid over your waist, slow and confident, tickly the bare strip of skin the shone out from your loose t-shirt.
“Besides,” he muttered, leaning closer, “I’ve got a few hours before I have to be a rockstar.”
Your breath caught when he pulled you closer against him. His hands were warm and slightly calloused from guitar strings.
Mark buried his face briefly against your neck, lips ghosting over the vein pulsing in tune with your fast heartbeat.
“You’re nervous,” you whispered.
He laughed quietly against your skin.
“Terrified.”
The admission didn’t last long before his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer like he needed something solid.
Something grounding.
“Good thing I know how to deal with nerves,” you said softly.
Mark lifted his head, eyes bright now.
“Oh yeah?”
You didn’t answer with words, just pulled him down toward you.
The tension in his shoulders melted almost instantly, replaced by that familiar cocky half-smile he got when the adrenaline started turning into confidence.
“Careful,” he murmured against your lips. “You keep this up and I’m going to spend the whole day in this bed instead of on that stage tonight.”
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mark lee x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and your boyfriend mark go on a coffee date
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: blurb, established relationship, non-idol!au, university!au, fluff
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 344
𝐚/𝐧: i'm not sure if vanilla brew is an actual drink, but it sounds pretty.
[2:45 pm] Delicate jazz music wafted through the room as you lay your head against the window, watching strangers rush through the autumn rain. The rich smell of roasted coffee beans whirled past your nose as you turned to watch Mark, sitting across the small table from you. Mark hummed softly as his fingers tapped a rhythm into the dark oak table. You smiled softly as he momentarily stopped tapping to push his glasses up his nose.
It was a Sunday afternoon, and you were both at your favourite café, waiting for your order. You hadn’t been to the café in a while, as your university schedules were packed. So here you were, on a coffee date, catching up with your long-term boyfriend. You and Mark complained about your schoolwork and laughed as you recalled funny incidents among your friend groups as time slipped away from you.
“One dark roast coffee, and one warm vanilla brew,” the waiter said as they placed the drinks in front of the two of you. You inhaled deeply at the sweet aroma of your drink.
“Thank you,” you and Mark replied at the same time, locking eyes and giggling at your synchronicity. The waiter smiled gently as they placed your croissants on the table, next to your drinks.
“That looks really good,” Mark gestured toward your drink as the waiter walked away. He pulled his sweater sleeves up before taking a bite of his croissant.
“Thank you. Yours does too,” you replied. You and Mark ordered the same thing every time you visited the café, it was basically a ritual of yours at this point.
You both sipped on your drinks as you continued to banter with one another. The chatter around you faded away as you focused only on each other. Dates with Mark always made you feel like you were the only two people in the universe, orbiting around one another as your hearts grew closer.
Mark leaned forward, placing his hands in yours, warm from the coffee brew, as the rain waned around you.
all I need is the air that I breathe, and to love you ft. lee mark !
𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ genre ; non-idol!mark × fem reader. fluff, pure unadulterated fluff. established relationship au. use of pet names (for her: baby, pretty girl / for him: lovie). just a short drabble to get used to posting on tumblr. ugh this turned tooth-rottingly sweet.
𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ word count ; 1.4k (this was supposed to be shorter but well, i got carried away haha)
𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ warning(s) ; none that i see ^^
𖹭⠀࣭⠀⋆ notes ; divider by @mewryn (it's so pretty oml)
laughter. the sound of laughter had to be your favorite music that drifted leisurely throughout the apartment.
be it hushed chuckles over a movie or a funny tiktok your boyfriend sent over to you, the rambunctious cackling that tailed your group of friends when they'd indulged a little too much in drinks after dinners that often than not happened in the home you shared with mark–you cherished them all the very same.
before you moved into the flat on the tenth floor, the highest any residential building went in the street equidistant to both of your workplaces, you had some doubts. mostly concerning how eerily quiet it tended to get even with the faint honks of traffic in the heart of seoul.
you could owe it to your upbringing in the city, never once truly alone despite how easily it was slipping into a faraway headspace. you still did that sometimes but after meeting mark, the use of your headphones that'd found purchase against your ears got lesser and lesser. until you could go days just listening to his little tangents.
of course, it was more because of the fact that you adored how his whole face brightened as he shared with you something, anything he held dear. the way his soft brown eyes twinkled as he animatedly explained his point made you lose all sense of reality.
once in sophmore year of college, he had stopped for half a minute and then chuckled at you staring at him in awe. it had taken him waving his hand before you and a "hello, earth to _______? do i have something on my face?" for you to realize your embarrassing predicament.
only mark didn't seem to find it odd. no, on the contrary he found the gesture endearing. he had that tendency to ramble, everyone told him as much. but for you to listen to every word and hang onto it infused a swell in his heart, a giddy feeling he honestly did not want to suppress.
with mark, everything came in it's most simple form. relationships were not supposed to be easy, each one had it's own complications as did yours. but with him you knew you would always try to work through every rough patch because your boyfriend was willing just as much.
you had put an official label on your relationship in junior year, and not being strangers to the amount of teasing that would ensue from your rather large circle of friends, you had decided to keep it lowkey, letting them find out on their own and ease into it.
but with your streak of not keeping your hands–or lips for that matter—off each other, it took them two weeks flat to figure it out. but that's on johnny and his inability to knock on doors as he strutted into mark's dorm as if it was his own, oblivious to you both tangled in each other's arms on the small sofa pushed against the wall beside the balcony.
to your surprise, no noticeably grand change came with the reveal. in johnny's words, you and mark had always been sort of touchy with each other even as friends. he told you to keep the make-outs to a minimum and nobody else would know for sure.
after graduation, mark had mustered up the courage to ask you to move in with him. he had put a lot of thought into it—scoured for decently sized apartments, looked for help from his older friends and even went as far as to ask your parents for their opinion.
of course, the one answer that mattered was yours but even the fact that he asked your parents made you feel elated. and it definitely earned him their seal of approval.
the hesitant question had followed a meal of chinese takeout for dinner as you leaned your head on his shoulder, watching the movie playing in the living room of his childhood home, an arm wrapped around his waist. you had noticed his skittishness all night and it all came to a head as he played with the ends of your hair.
"i was thinking", mark started, taking your hum as approval to continue while you lowered the volume of the tv. "and seriously you can take as much time to think or even say no, i won't force you."
this time you turned to face him fully, a frown creeping up to your face. "what is it, markie? is something wrong?"
"i– well..." he took a sharp breath, eyes never once meeting your own. "i was thinking maybe you can move in with me?"
the silence that followed only plummeted his heart further down his stomach. mark moved an inch away from you, grabbing the remote from your grasp while shaking his head. "never mind. it's way too soon to think of that stuff, right? that's was a sudden, stupid ques—"
"don't say that. nothing you said is stupid." regaining your voice, you shifted closer to him, your grip sliding up his arm and towards nape as you rubbed the area. his shoulders slouched visibly, irrate heartbeat slowing just a little.
you smiled up at him, deft fingers smoothing across his across his brow and finally resting against his cheeks. it took a little tug for him to finally face you, mouth opening and closing as he wracked his brain for the appropriate words to find him when you spoke again.
"i would love to move in with you, mark."
as much as you loved mark when he's talking, sometimes you took great pleasure in rendering him speechless.
as quick as lightning he held your wrists with widened eyes, stopping the advances of your hands down his perfectly sculpted face. you brushed his knee softly as his adam's apple bobbed with a dry gulp.
mark found it hard to even formulate a thought, let alone speak. just when he'd started believing all of this was a bad idea, horrendous really, your admission nearly made his brain short-circuit.
"woah, wait— no. what?" he stumbled over the words eliciting a giggle out of you. "run that by me again, baby. i don't think i heard you correctly."
swatting his shoulder playfully, you took liberty to throw a leg over his, straddling his lap. "you heard me just right the first time, lovie. i think we should do it, move in together. i mean, we have somewhat stable jobs and it would stop us from inconveniencing your parents or mine. honestly, i love your mother but i got goosebumps when she winked at me on the way out."
mark managed a chuckle, rubbing up and down the sides on your legs on either side of him. this had been your arrangement after college. date nights in either of your houses meant the parents always had to leave unless they wanted to walk in on their not-so-little-anymore kids doing anything reserved for behind closed doors.
suddenly, you found yourself being pulled forwards into his chest as his ecstasy evolved into child-like laughter–carefree and unbound. his arms tightened around your form as you succumbed to your own joy.
mark whispered against your hair between pressing kisses to the crown of your head, "i love you, you know that?"
you peeked up at him, cheeks starting to hurt from the wide smile that nothing in the world could dampen. "do you?"
"mhmm. and now that we will live together, i'll remind you everyday, pretty girl. over and over."
sometimes, it scared you how dependent you had gotten on this one single person. finding your chest surging with pride in his every minute success, just as it ached when he hurted.
mark looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. then again, you were sure you'd visit every length to do just that if he so much as asked.
and that night had brought you to this one, sitting against the armrest of the loveseat surrounded by your friends, legs thrown over your boyfriend's as he held you close. you knew he would never let you fall but every fiber in your being appreciated the closeness regardless.
you smiled at haechan's dramatic recounting of some incident in the pub last night, finding comfort in the fingers thrumming to an unknown beat against your hips.
as your eyes wandered to every occupant of the cozy living room of your apartment—yours and mark's—you couldn't help but thank your lucky stars for this chance.
because until you have this little life, this warm, lived-in home, your friends, family and most importantly him by your side, nothing could make you a stranger to the sense of contentment.
genre: mark lee x reader, college au (not that important for the context tbh), friends to lovers, fluff, drabble (900 words)
summary: your friends referred to you as the mark lee interpreter. you weren't sure why, but you understood him- even the words he didn't say.
warnings: none!
To many, you were known as the Mark Lee Interpreter. Such was usually said in jest, but you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest when the moniker was bestowed upon you. Sure, the guy rambles a bit, but if you listen- really listen- he has quite a beautiful outlook on the world.
You and Mark usually conversed in motion. You’ve divulged your deepest secrets to him while on aimless walks. You’ve cracked your wisest jokes to one another while biking. You’ve had entire conversations through your eyes while dancing in grimy bars.
Now was no different, though a more chill variation. It’s Spring, so the two of you are taking a stroll in between classes. The sun knocks the chill off an otherwise too-chilly day, its rays falling on your face like a smattering of kisses. Spring isn’t in its picturesque stage quite yet. The stasis of winter still lingers, trees barren and skies grayish amidst the light that peeks through the cloud coverage. It’s calming.
There’s a creek that runs through the center of campus, a little bridge arching over the widest part. This is where you stood now, watching the water trickle over stones.
“I think about rocks a lot,” Mark says out of nowhere. (Translation: Nature is so beautiful- even the most mundane and minute aspects of it. Even the parts that people forget. I think about forgotten things a lot, like rocks.) You believe it. Mark thinks a lot about a lot of things.
“They’re, like, soooo varied. Y’know?”
You do know. Large rocks. Mountainous rocks. Boulders. Stones. Pebbles. There are many types of rocks. “The ones in the creek look super smooth. It’s… hypnotizing.” Mark speaks as though he’s constantly in amazement, or on the brink of an epiphany. He’s the embodiment of potential, of the hypothetical, of what could be. You think a lot about what you and Mark could be.
Of the many possibilities, you conclude that as long as some form of togetherness is involved, you’d be anything for him.
“I think about water a lot,” you respond.
“What’s your favorite kind of water?” (Translation: Indulge me. How intently do you think about the minutiae of the world? Are you as crazy about water as I am about rocks?)
“Hm,” you say. “Good question. No one’s ever asked me that.” You assume he’s asking you to identify a particular body of water as your favorite. A memory comes to mind.
It was the summer after freshman year. You and Mark went to the beach everyday together. You think of the chilly water that rolled over your toes in the waking moments of dawn. You think of how beautiful the sunrise looked reflected on the ocean. You think of Mark waking up with you, despite not being a morning person. That wasn’t your favorite type of water, no. You specifically liked the sea water that danced on the ends of Mark’s hair. The drops that traveled down the follicle, forming shimmering beads, and dripped onto the sand below. You made a game of watching and counting them that summer. (The highest you got was 47.)
You’re not sure how to consolidate this memory into a sentence that doesn’t sound absolutely insane. You decide to omit the thought entirely. A conversation for a different day, you suppose.
“The ocean. Cliche, I know,” you say. Mark nods to himself, then hums.
The creek beneath you harmonizes with Mark’s humming. He begins walking again, taking your hand in his. This wasn’t too out of the ordinary for your friendship, but it makes your heart do this twisty thing you can’t quite place. It was the one action of his you couldn’t interpret. Mark doesn’t make a big deal about it, nor does he discuss the matter afterwards. It was almost like he was entitled to your hand, clasping his calloused fingers around yours without a second thought.
You’ve never actually looked at your intertwined hands before. The first time he grabbed it (during one of those days on the beach), Mark acted so nonchalant. You figured the gesture didn’t mean much to him. You were scared that, if provided with a visual, you’d never stop thinking about his stupid hands.
This time, you allow yourself a peek. The cuff of Mark’s jacket hangs over his fingers, and he squeezes your hand when he realizes you’re looking. (Translation: You’re finally acknowledging this. Are you here? Can you feel me?)
Your hand is getting sweaty. You pull away to wipe it on your jeans.
Mark can’t believe you’re nervous right now. You’re never nervous around him. The two of you have become accustomed to the wordless ease of your relationship.
Mark’s eyeing you again. You pretend you can’t see him in your peripheral vision. It doesn’t work. “Nervous?”
“Not even a little bit,” you say defiantly. You snatch his hand back into yours as if to prove your point. However, this only does the opposite as you begin to literally tremble.
“You’re so funny,” says Mark, running his thumb over the back of your hand. He slowly lifts your hand to his mouth, but he doesn’t kiss it. He simply presses your knuckles to his lips, maintaining eye contact while he does so. Your breath hitches.
“Mark-” is all you manage to say. You can’t meet his eyes, so you look at your conjoined hands as they swing between the two of you. Elation radiates off Mark’s skin. He’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Your hand is so warm,” Mark says. (Translation: I love you.)
a/n: feedback is always appreciated! thanks for reading!
Gostei do prompt "não faz isso, quero ouvir você gemer" e acho que poderia ser interessante ele com o mark, talvez na primeira vez dele com você e que você esteja com vergonha?? ou algo que você imaginar com esse prompt + mark!
enfim, eu adoraria ver isso na sua escrita, obrigada💖💖
GRANDE EVENTO DE 1 ANO DE ANIVERSÁRIO DO NONUWHORE!!!! 🥳🥳🥳
19. “Não faz isso, quero ouvir você gemer.”
contém: boyfriend!mark; fluff; cocky!mark porque a gente não pode esquecer nunca que ele é leonino (e esses são os melhores); apelidos (princesa, amor); linguagem vulgar; smut: morning sex; dirty talk, thigh fuck; mordidas; menção a ejaculação; praise;
contagem de palavras: 1,5k
nota da autora: então, a história acabou saindo um pouquinho diferente kkkkk mas acho que mantive a ideia central. espero que você goste, de verdade!!!! muito obrigada por participar do evento <3
“Princesa”, a voz meio quebrada de um Mark que acabara de acordar te chamou. Ainda levemente adormecida, você a ouviu longe, mas reconheceu quem te chamava e o tom de culpa que ela carregava.
“Hum?”, você respondeu, sonolenta, e sabendo o que viria a seguir.
“Eu não consigo dormir mais… Já são oito horas…”, ele fez a afirmação parecer um absurdo, como se só pessoas malucas dormissem depois disso. Sentiu sua cintura sendo enlaçada pelo braço dele, junto do quadril encontrando o seu e a barba nascendo no queixo alcançar sua nuca. Um beijo, delicado e quase imperceptível. Outro, mais demorado e pesado. Mais outro, molhado e seguido de uma mordiscada tímida.
“Mark!”, você instintivamente o empurrou usando ancas e ele riu.
“É assim que você pretende me afastar? Acho que não vai dar certo”, ele riu sacana e te puxou para perto mais uma vez, se encaixando com cuidado na curva do seu corpo.
“Pelo amor de Deus, é domingo, me deixa dormir!”, você implorou.
“Você já dormiu muito! Olha que lindo o dia lá fora, a gente podia estar fazendo tanta coisa!”, e apontou para a cortina meio aberta que mostrava o azul límpido do céu.
“Foda-se a beleza do dia, eu ‘tô de folga, quero dormir!”, você se debateu, fazendo birra, e ele se calou, mas você sabia que isso não tinha acabado.
Vocês tinham o mesmo problema todos os finais de semana há seis meses, que foi quando ele te pediu em namoro. Ele estava tão nervoso, as palavras saiam da boca sem nenhuma relação sintática, apenas uma grande sopa de “cara”, “tipo”, “é que”, e se você se perguntou se aquele era o mesmo Mark Lee que você conhecia das histórias que corriam pelo campus. O mesmo Mark Lee que não perdia nenhuma festa do curso de vocês - e de outros - e nunca teve problema para falar com nenhuma caloura, nenhuma mesmo, até você chegar. Não que ele não tivesse tentado, você só era completamente inacessível, sempre fazendo a cara mais assustadora quando alguém do centro acadêmico chegava perto nos corredores e evitando todos os trabalhos em grupos possíveis. Só que o professor de Introdução ao Desenvolvimento de Sistemas de Software de vocês não curtia muito essa ideia e resolveu fazer um sorteio de duplas para apresentação de um trabalho, e adivinha quem caiu com você. Evitar que Mark se aproximasse durante todo um semestre foi exaustivo e improdutivo, mesmo ambos não tendo nada em comum além dessa disciplina específica, depois de duas semanas ele já aparecia no seu dormitório toda noite com os lanches mais famosos do campus para você provar e dizer não para ele, a partir dali, se tornou impossível. Esse momento, que vocês vivam agora, nunca seria uma exceção.
“Mark”, você o chamou e ele te apertou mais um pouco, o sorriso dele pressionado contra o seu ombro.
“Dormiu bem?”, perguntou, com a mesma voz manhosa que quase fez vocês ficarem de recuperação, porque, depois de um tempo, vocês passam mais tempo jogando qualquer coisa que ele achava na internet ou assistindo séries longuíssimas que você não lembrava nada da história, já que metade do tempo os dedos dele estavam dentro da sua calcinha.
“Sempre tem como melhorar, né?” ele soltou um risinho apertado com seu tom de sarcasmo.
“Sabe com o que eu sonhei?”, você balançou a cabeça e segurou a mão dele que apertava a sua barriga. “Sonhei que a gente ‘tava brincando de esconde-esconde. E eu era muito ruim, porque não te achei nenhuma vez”, você não precisava se virar para saber que nesse momento seu namorado tinha um bico feito com os lábios.
“Ou… Eu era muito boa, já pensou nessa possibilidade?”, você provocou sabendo como Mark era competitivo.
Ele riu, cheio de si, “Claro, sempre há a possibilidade.”
“Você precisa parar de achar que é bom em tudo, Mark.”
“Mas eu sou. Uma máquina de última geração.”
Você empurrou sua bunda contra o colo dele. “Você é bem ruim em resistir a isso aqui”, e repetiu o movimento, se esfregando um pouco mais no membro adormecido.
Mark gemeu, sacando sua jogada. “Entendi, você quer provar um ponto…”
“Quero”, e parou, esperando o que ele faria a seguir, mas morrendo de vergonha de ter tomado a iniciativa. Você conseguia ouvir ele pensando e sentia o volume dentro da calça crescer.
“Que isso, amor… O que te deu hoje?”
“Talvez alguém tenha me acordado antes da hora… E fazer isso enquanto eu não te encaro é mais fácil”, você foi sincera e automaticamente perdeu a coragem que você tinha acumulado desde o dia anterior, quando você queria deixar claro que adoraria passar a noite com Mark dentro de você, mas não conseguiu, perdendo seu namorado para o video game.
“Você vai mesmo me fazer morder a língua”, ele se grudou a você de novo, deslizando a extensão rígida bastante óbvia por conta do short fino no meio da sua bunda e enfiando a mão dentro do seu pijama, segurando um dos seus seios como se eles fossem a última esperança da terra. Os dentes seguram a pele da sua nuca e do seu pescoço enquanto ele beliscava seu mamilo, ativando os todos os sentidos de ambos.
Você suspirava pesado, contendo a vontade de gemer e pedir que ele te fodesse logo, porque sua calcinha já tinha virado sopa. Se limitou a segurar a mão dele por cima do seu peito, apertando com mais vontade, e ajudando a fricção que ele fazia em você, aflita por mais.
“Droga, você ‘tava tão certa”, você o sentiu se afastar de você, descendo a roupa de baixo dele e sua, e o membro quente pressionado mais uma vez contra o vão da sua bunda. Ele deslizou com cuidado, assistindo seu quadril fazendo o movimento contrário, em um sincronia ensaiada, e apertou sua cintura com força. “Eu nunca vou me acostumar com como você é gostosa, principalmente com essa atitude”, sussurrou mordendo sua orelha e soltando o hálito quente que arrepiou até pelos que você não sabia que tinha.
“Mark…”, você sabia que hoje não ia conseguir se conter, principalmente se ele fosse usar esse tom com você.
“Você vai gemer meu nome hoje? Diz que vai…”, te provocou, direcionando o membro com as mãos para o centro das suas pernas, mas sem te penetrar, o deslizava entre os lábios ensopados com mais facilidade que o normal e suas coxas automaticamente o apertaram, dando uma sensação parecida com a que ele tinha quando estava dentro de você.
O ritmo vagaroso provavelmente ia te matar. Ele não tinha pressa pra se movimentar e nem pra beijar seu pescoço e morde-lo, soltando a pele lentamente. A ponta gordinha resvalou no clitoris implorando por atenção e foi o bastante para te fazer abafar o chiado com as costas da mão.
“Não faz isso, quero ouvir você gemer”, ele pediu, segurando a mesma mão e aumentando um pouco a cadência em que fodia sua coxa. “Se eu não te torturar, você promete que geme pra mim? Promete?”, e sua cabeça confirmou com tanta força e rapidez que fez ele sorrir, boquiaberto com o quão molhada você estava e o quanto isso o deixava mais maluco pra te fazer gozar.
Como prometido, ele passou a estocar com mais vontade o espaço apertadinho que você criou para ele, escorregando por toda a sua intimidade, e te fazendo gemer alto, sem
calcular nenhuma das suas ações. “Eu vou ficar viciado nessa porra, vou te querer assim toda vez”, disse se referindo ao jeito que sua garganta liberava os sons mais dolorosamente estimulantes. Pensar em fazer de novo fez seu corpo erupcionar em um longo e paralisante orgasmo, te deixando completamente travada e sentido todo o tipo de prazer enquanto Mark era o único a balançar a cama em um frenesi que o levou ao limite logo em seguida. Seus líquidos e os deles se misturavam no tecido da roupa de cama que colava na sua pele do mesmo jeito que Mark se agarrava a você.
“Você consegue me olhar agora?”, perguntou, retomando o que você disse anteriormente. Seu olhar encontrou o dele, rapidamente, e voltou a encarar o canto da parede. Ele riu, perdido pela expressão cansada e envergonhada no seu rosto. “Você tem vergonha de dizer que tá com vontade, amor?”
