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nctsworld · 8 months

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fever pitch

✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k

SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!

RATING | mature

AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!

TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen

Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.

Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.

Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—

Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.

But one in particular catches your eye.

Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.

In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.

You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.

And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.

Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.

“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.

Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.

Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”

Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”

Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.

“Want your usual?”

“Yes, please!”

However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—

“WATCH OUT!”

With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.

“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”

“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”

Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.

“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”

You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.

Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”

Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.

Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.

“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”

“How would I know how to reach out to you?”

He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”

You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?

“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”

His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”

“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.

“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”

Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”

He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.

“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”

At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”

Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.

Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.

While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”

Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”

Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”

Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.

Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”

When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”

He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”

You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.

“Your head good though?”

You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”

In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”

Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again.

But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.

On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?

Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”

Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”

“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.

And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.

“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”

The camera’s now on Mark’s face.

The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.

He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.

From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.

Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.

He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.

Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.

All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.

“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”

Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.

Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”

Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?

“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.

But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.

The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow.

You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.

Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.

Because for you, it’s game time.

Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?

The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.

As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.

This is perfect timing for you too.

However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—

And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.

Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.

But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.

Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.

“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”

His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”

He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.

“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”

At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.

Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”

“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”

After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”

You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.

Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”

“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.

“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”

“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”

“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”

“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”

This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market.

“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”

Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”

“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”

As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”

Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”

“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.

Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually.

“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”

Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.

“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.

Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.

“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.

“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.

After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.

“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.

“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.

He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.

“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”

“Yes, definitely!”

Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.

“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.

Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.

“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.

Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.

“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”

After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.

As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.

In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.

He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.

Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.

“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.

You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.

Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.

He twists around with his visor open.

“Ready?”

You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.

Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.

On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.

In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.

Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.

The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.

Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.

However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.

You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.

The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.

By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.

When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.

Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.

“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”

As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.

Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.

Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.

“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”

“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.

After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”

Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”

He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.

“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”

Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.

Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.

He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...

Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.

You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.

And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.

Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.

An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.

You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.

“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”

“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.��

The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.

At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.

Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.

Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.

The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.

His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).

It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.

Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.

Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.

Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.

Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.

“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”

It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”

He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.

“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.

“Neither do I.”

And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.

Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.

He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.

When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”

You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.

It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.

“Mark, please, just—”

Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.

The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.

With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.

As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.

“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.

“Huh?”

“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.

You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”

“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.

“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”

Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.

His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.

You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.

Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.

But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”

Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”

Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.

“You close?”

You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.

It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.

“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”

Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.

When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.

“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”

“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”

In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.

Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.

Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.

God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...

“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”

He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”

You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.

Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.

Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.

More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.

As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.

Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.

“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.

But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.

“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”

You hesitate with closed eyes.

“Could I... ride your arm?”

Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.

“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.

Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”

“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”

“Yeah?”

Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”

Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.

Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”

He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”

You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.

Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.

His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.

“This okay still?” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”

You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.

“Oh, God,” Mark pants.

You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.

“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”

It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.

Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.

Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.

The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.

Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.

He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.

At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.

He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.

Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.

As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.

There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...

And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...

It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.

He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.

Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.

EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER

Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.

Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.

With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.

“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.

The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”

“Oh, my God, Chenle...”

“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”

You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”

“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.

Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.

Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.

“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.

“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”

Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”

Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”

“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”

You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.

“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”

In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.

After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”

You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.

“And you have me,” you add jokingly.

He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”

The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.

Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.

Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.

You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.

You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.

That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...

Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.

But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.

And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.

He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:

“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."

Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.

Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.

All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.

You immediately say yes.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee fanfic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #yn brainrot

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lisired · 1 month

Text

can you keep it down?

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.

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.

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.

#mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #mark lee x reader #nct imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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midmourn · 3 months

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you storm out after a fight

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre angst warnings language and just general warning for angst note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 ( library )

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catboyieejeno · 4 months

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mark lee + domestic

♫ play love it by dean...

waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.

it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.

cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.

after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"

chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.

you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.

you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.

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martiniblues · 6 months

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spidey boy ; 이민형

pairing spiderman!mark x female!reader

synopsis mark has tried to hide his secret identity from you for as long as possible, to keep you safe, of course. little does he know that you’ve untangled his web of lies long ago and will do anything in your power to get him to admit it. just when you've had enough of him lying to you, he ends up getting caught in the act trying to save your life.

genre established relationship, fighting (if you squint), lots of fluff, slight violence and cat-calling, slightly suggestive, mark calls reader “my girl” and “pretty girl”.

wc 2.9k

“do you think that spiderman guy is actually as good as everyone says he is?” you ask mark, who lay peacefully in your lap as your fingers ran through his hair.

you two had been hanging out after school, as you usually do, watching random channels while you both indulged in each other's day. however, you had articulated this hangout the night prior.

a few days ago, you had aimlessly been searching through mark’s backpack in hopes of finding your calculus notes, which you had so graciously let him borrow, only to stumble upon a very familiar red and black mask balled up in the bottom.

at first, you thought mark had hit peak fangirl. he was obsessed with the superhero after all, completely drawn to the tv or newspaper whenever spiderman was mentioned, but so was every other human being in your city.

so when you began noticing how mark’s late-night appearances and “fashionably late” activities began lining up with the famous building-swinging superhero, your mind put the pieces together.

you tried to understand his point of view and why he wouldn’t reveal this very key detail about himself. it hurt you, though, feeling as though there was something in you that made him not feel comfortable enough to expose himself to you.

so, you compiled a plan to get the truth out of him organically, or as organically as this could be.

“wha… what do you mean?” your boyfriend’s head quickly snapped up, turning on his palm to face you with a questionable look knitted into his features.

a smile teasingly pulled on your lips, knowing you had hit a sore spot in his ego. how couldn’t he be proud of himself? after all, he was known as the hero of your city.

“i don’t know,” you continued, leaning back against the couch, watching your boyfriend swing from building to building on the screen in front of your bodies. “he just seems too full of himself, like cool you can swing from buildings and hang upside down, but we have police and firefighters for a reason!”

it took everything in you to not break character, slowly watching mark’s face grow red at your painful statements. he just looked at you, eyes blown wide and brows pulled so close together that you were certain he could get stuck like that.

with a small giggle, you reached out, brushing your thumb between the crease in his brows and bringing it down to caress his cheek.

“what’s with the face, baby? don’t tell me you're obsessed with him too.” his face slowly relaxed as your soft hand held his face, but his brain was still scrambling with your previous statements.

how could you find him not absolutely amazing? he could swing from buildings and hang upside down!

“you don’t think he’s cool? not even a little bit?” mark’s eyes followed yours to the screen. spiderman now being shown saving an older woman from getting mugged.

“i think he’s cool, i guess.” you looked back at your boyfriend only to find his eyes already on your face, his previous expression appearing again. “babe, you can’t be serious.” mark leaned back, feeling completely bewildered by your nonchalant attitude towards his heroic duties.

“it’s not that big of a deal."it’s not like you’re spiderman, so why should it matter if i like him or not?” you titled your head away from the screen to watch his eyes grow wide, and you could audibly hear his breath hitch.

“but…” he quickly let out before catching himself, looking at the tv to see his segment disappear. “but what?” you teased, beginning to feel bad for your ministrations.

he looked back at your face, sighing heavily. “nothing, just like the guy a bit," he said before lying back in your lap to hide his face from you.

this was going to be a lot harder than you thought.

“hey baby~” mark cooed as he stepped into your apartment, takeout bags in hand. you quickly sprung up from your spot at the counter, running to hug your boyfriend after not seeing him for awhile.

after your first attempt to disclose his true identity was unsuccessful, you held off from bringing up the topic for awhile.

but you had finally decided to take a different approach this time.

“i missed you, pretty girl.” the nickname made your cheeks heat up as his cold hands held your face in front of his. he inspected you lovingly, relishing in the fact that he could finally hold you without school being in the way.

“missed you too," you replied before kissing him softly. mark dropped the plastic bag on the counter beside him, pulling you firmly against him. his lips were almost enough to make you forget about your plan.

almost.

“god, i’m hungry.” you pulled away, making him laugh at your cute antics, and he joined you on your couch to eat. as you sat, you pulled off your (mark’s) sweatshirt to reveal the key details of your plan.

mark quickly noticed the black spiderman logo displayed across your chest, at a loss for how quickly your opinion of him changed. “you like?” you asked, flaunting the red baby tee you had bought earlier that day.

“i- i thought you thought spiderman was stupid." he nearly choked on his food, trying not to blush at the image of his girl repping him like this.

“i never said he was stupid, mark. i just thought he was overhyped, but i now understand where all the love is coming from.” you looked down, ogling at your new shirt, sure of its effect on your boyfriend.

“oh…” he tried to fight the grin, trying to cover his lips, but couldn’t contain his relief. “glad you finally came around, baby.” he smiled before shoving his face with more food.

“you’re not jealous?” you asked, beginning to take on step two of your plan. “he is a guy, after all.”

this made mark actually choke on his food. “what? why would i be jealous about that?"

“i mean, your girlfriend wearing a shirt for some muscular superhero who is most definitely sickly hot under that skin tight suit he wears while saving lives." you went on swirling your fork in your food, looking up every so often to see mark’s cheeks darken at the compliments.

he held his head down, but not enough for his flushed ears and cheeks to go unoticed. “why are you so red, baby? i still like you more, you know; spiderman can’t take you away from me.” you reached over and combed your fingers through his hair to feign worry.

“that is, unless he happens to swing by and sweep me up with his insane muscles.” you winked, making your boyfriend turn into a tomato.

“yeah, you wish he would do that.” mark joked, trying to deflate his growing pride, which you continued to boost.

“what? are you saying i’m not worthy of spiderman’s fantastic biceps picking me up and swinging me through the night sky?” mark looked at you quizzically.

you couldn’t be serious, could you?

mark discarded his food, crawling over to trap you beneath his body. "fantastic, you say... and what are these?” he made reference to his own muscular arms peeking through his fitted white tee.

"marvelous," you replied, sliding your fingers softly over your boyfriend's muscles. how lovely it was that you didn’t have to dream of spiderman’s biceps as they sat right in front of you.

“better than fantastic in my book.” mark smiled before catching your lips in his.

your spiderman shirt was soon discarded in that moment but continued to linger in mark’s head days later.

“i’m just gonna go grab a few things. i promise i won’t be long.” you stood in your doorway, attempting to run to the store to get a few things before it got too late.

mark hated this.

“why cant i just go get it or go with you?” mark wrapped his arms around you from behind, making it increasingly difficult to slide on your shoes. he kissed you all over your neck and face, held your hand, pulled at your jacket sleeves, and even attempted to block the door entirely to try and get you to stay, but you were as determined as you ever were.

“i’m a grown woman, mark. i can run down the block by myself.” you turned around in his arms, reaching for your keychain next to his head on the wall, hanging by a hook.

“it’s dangerous out there. wouldn’t want my pretty girl getting hurt.” he slouched against the wall, still holding onto your hand as your whole body nearly made it out the door.

“good thing spiderman will be there to save me from any danger.” you teased him before slamming the door in his face, preventing him from getting anymore words out. not that he could form any from your statement anyway.

as you made your way through the isles of the tiny convenience store down the block from your place, you began to notice a dark figure popping into your vision.

a man decked out in all black and wearing a dark baseball cap pulled down just enough to hide his eyes followed your trail through the store.

he just coincidentally needs the same things, plus it’s freezing outside. that’s why he’s covered up so much, you thought. you can't say much about covering up with your giant black puffer jacket nearly swallowing you whole.

as your shopping trip continued, you couldn’t help but notice the figure not picking up a single item they inspected.

how weird, you thought.

“have a nice night!” the sweet cashier bid you goodbye before you quickly made your way out of the store.

as you exited the glass doors, the figure from earlier greeted you outside. your steps increased in speed as you noticed the figure continuing to follow your path.

you: mark could you meet me outside

you: creepy dude won’t stop following me

you: dude answer the phone

you: mark come on this is serious

you huffed, knowing the figure was still following you from a distance and aggravated by mark ignoring your texts.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone at night?” the figure spoke from your side, somehow managing to come up beside you without you noticing.

you stayed silent, pretending to be interested in the cement beneath your feet.

“hey! i’m talking to you!” the voice barked, noticeably irritated by your lack of interest. “i asked you a question, bitch!” a hand grabbed your wrist tightly, stopping you in your tracks.

thinking it was the figure, your body froze seeing spiderman right in front of you. stumbling back, you watched your hero step in and fight off the creepy man, knocking him over before webbing him to the alley wall ahead.

“try and speak to her again, and you’ll get much worse than a few webs on you.” the familiar voice of your boyfriend came out deep and threatening, making your breath hitch. you had never heard him speak like that.

while the bum continued to try and yell through the webs plastered over his mouth, spiderman turned to check on you.

“everything all right? he didn’t touch you or hurt you, babe- i mean, mam?” the fumbling of words made you laugh slightly, knowing the dork under the mask.

“i’m all right, thanks to you, spiderman.” you swooned, so caught up with the fact that your own boyfriend was spiderman and that he had practically beaten and webbed a man to a wall for you.

“what could i ever do to repay you?” you asked, trying not to trip over your own feet at the way the suit hugged mark’s muscle so well. more than any t-shirt ever could.

“just doing my job, as always.” spiderman leaned his body against the wall smoothly, resting his head against his fist. you two stood there in a few seconds of silence, both not knowing what to do.

“you better get headed home; it’s getting late.” he coughed, finally breaking out of his daze.

“no swinging around the city for me?” you asked, pretty disappointed that your boyfriend was about to make you walk home alone. “no can do, web swinging with lovely ladies is a daytime activity only; i wouldn’t want anyone to miss it.” he pulled his body from the wall, shooting up a web to hang from a sign above your heads.

“what a shame. guess you’ll just have to give me a show of the city another day," you replied, watching as mark swung his legs over the sign to hang upside down effortlessly.

definitely trying to impress me, you thought.

“i can see what i can do.” he crossed his arms over his chest before you stepped forward on your tiptoes, placing your hand on his cheek, making him short circuit.

“thanks again, spiderman.” you spoke, leaning into him to place a quick kiss on his mask-covered cheek.

“of-of course. any day, mam,” his voice cracked at your actions, making you laugh as you turned away to walk home.

mark hung in bliss before realizing he was supposed to be at your place, not saving your life in a spidey suit.

you rushed through the door, dropping your bag on the ground and making a beeline to your room. the only place with a window mark could slide through without getting caught.

you swung open your door to reveal a maskless spiderman half way through your bedroom window, eyes wide, body frozen.

you froze in shock, almost surprised that your plan had finally worked. "gotcha," you smiled, leaning against your door frame satisfied.

“uh…” mark scrambled, attempting to put his mask back on as if it would make you forget seeing his face entirely. as he tripped and tumbled around your room, you slowly made you way behind him.

“mark,” you began, attempting to get him to calm down. “baby,” you turned him slowly as he finally got his mask back on. “mark? who’s mark? that your boyfriend or something?” he attempted to deepen his voice to throw you off.

he realized this was unsurprisingly unsuccessful, noticing the smirk that continued to show on your face. “you know him, don’t you, spiderman? he’s the boy who just kicked ass and saved my life less than ten minutes ago.” you said, gently pulling off his mask to reveal your boyfriend’s face.

he stared at you, not knowing how you felt. “look, i can explain this all,” he nervously let out as he looked anywhere but your eyes.

before he could explain, you kissed him softly, wanting to ease his worry and express your gratitude. he saved your life after all, and not just by being spiderman.

“i’m not mad, not at all.” you looked into his eyes, noticing how at ease he seemed to be at the relief of your words.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i was so scared you wouldn’t want to be with me or be scared of me,” he ranted, trying to make you see his side in case you had lied and were even the littlest bit mad at him. he hated when you were mad at him more than anything.

“why would i not want to be with you? i love you, mark, so much, it’s crazy.” you pulled his face into your hands in disbelief at his words. “and plus, how could i be scared of such a handsome, strong, crime-fighting superhero who so happens to double as my boyfriend. if anything, people should fear me,” you joked, ripping a laugh from his lips.

“how long have you known?” he asked, pulling you closer by your waist. biting your lip, you looked down, trying to hold back your laugh. “remember when you borrowed my notes for class and forgot to give them back?"

you didn’t even have to finish, seeing the realization wash over his face as the words fell from your lips.

“yeah, maybe putting your suit in your backpack wasn’t the best place.” you both laughed at the situation at hand; mark was completely dumbfounded.

“so that’s why you talked such shit about me and bought that stupid shirt!” he continued to put together the pieces, gripping your waist tighter as he laughed at his own stupidity.

"ding, ding, ding!” you replied, pulling away slightly to take in his whole look, still not being used to see him like this up close. “yeah, definitely need to see you in this more often now."

mark flushed, turning into putty in your presence. your eyes traveled all over the intricate details and meshing of the suit. how it hugged his body and made him look completely unreal.

“do a little spin for me, doll.” you teased, wanting to ease up all the pent-up emotions still hanging in the air. mark giggled at your stupid comment but did as you asked nonetheless, turning slowly for you.

turning completely to the back, not a second went by before mark felt a harsh slap on his skin. “fuck baby! what was that for?” he whined, reaching down to rub the irritated spot.

"sorry, i couldn’t help myself when you have an ass like that, mark lee.” you smiled at his pained expression, putting your arms back to lean against your vanity, still ogling at your boyfriend’s physique.

“guess i really do need to wear this more around you.” he placed his hands on either side of you, trapping you beneath him.

“maybe the story time can wait till later.” you breathed before his lips pressed themselves to yours.

“i love you so much, my girl."

“i love you too, spidey boy.”

now you had mark completely to yourself, spiderman and all with no secrets left to hide.

note | more spider!mark WHAT CAN I SAYYY WHAT CAN I SAYYY. he’s literally my fav mark to write ever like pleaseee get him as the korean peter parker asap!!! anyways, hope you loved this and my request box is always open <333

#nct #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct 127 fic #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #nct mark #nct mark lee #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct angst #mark lee angst

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haechansdoll · 9 months

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so perfect, i can't stop - ml x reader

Pairing : Lee Mark x f!Reader

Description : Mark is too horny, and he uses you non stop

Warnings : sex,sex and sex.

“you’re gonna lose it as soon as I put my cock in your pussy” Mark sneers, gripping the plush of your thighs and scooting you closer to his stiff, bare cock. your hands find homage on his shoulders, as he grabs a handful of your ass lifting you on his length. he doesn’t realize the heat cascading from your cunt, your folds brushing across his cockhead, “fuck.” He whispers. His fingers bleed into your thighs, eager hips bouncing subconsciously on his cock—sliding down till your flush against his lap. “jesus fucking christ angel.. didn’t know you were such an eager little thing.” You blush, and he smirks.

“Don’t be shy.” He says, tilting your chin up as he bottoms out releasing a sultry moan, “you been hiding this perfect pussy from me this whole time? fuck.”

He wishes he could just keep you still, allow his cock to immerse in your sweet juices, tight velvet walls milking him dry, caresses your skin with his tongue—keep his fingers dancing on the skin but Mark just can’t do that. he has to feel more—his hips bucking up, cock curving against your spongy spot and you’re unraveling, whimpering when he takes the plunge and rams his cock harder upwards inside you. “want me to fill this pussy up, huh? feel my cum in your tummy for fucking days?”

Mark’s eyes grow dark, dropping the facade of pussy drunk and fully feral, leaning down to sink his teeth into your neck and slamming a hand down to move your hips harder on him, “never gonna fuck you with anything else but my raw cock princess, fuckin’ perfect for me.” you whine and moan against him, barely containing yourself.

“M-Mark—slow down” your whimpers left dull on his ear, mark raises his level of vision back to your disheveled face. “c-can’t help it angel—pussy so fuckin’ good” he throws his head back, his usually brown orbs clouded into a pitch black haze. He’s struggling—hips so sloppily drilling into your cunt. he’s thinking of the aftermath, your hole spilling out his cum and the wetness—how fucking wet and warm your hole will be when he pumps load after load inside you.

“fuck!” your ears vibrate against the shrill moan he echoes through the room, Mark drags his body back down mindlessly pounding into you. a high—the ecstasy laced bliss induced from his raw—untouched cock dragging against your velvet walls. and the tightness—have you always been this tight? he can’t stop thinking of those fucking thoughts. How much cum could you really take though? would Mark have to push it back in or just pump another load? The questions pile up while Mark feels your pussy clench around him and that’s where everything goes numb. A shiver that starts at the back of his neck, crawling its way to his cock and he finally—fills your cunt to the brim, gasping when he’s quick to pull out. He’s mesmerized by his seed oozing out of your messy hole and Mark is already pushing his cum right back in with his cock because what’s a better way to make it stick then with another pretty white load?

Mark inhales a long drawn out breath, steadily hoisting you over his cock for the second time that night. He flickers his eyes to you before casting his gaze back down—he wants to watch his bare cock disappear inside your pussy, something that he will never grow old of. “s-shit” he groans, brows furrowed while you sink down completely, pink dusts his cheeks and his body falls limb under you. he’s’ mortified how much his cock is twitching, swelling at the head while he just basks in the feeling. Once a sign of nerves coats his arm, he immediately throws it over his face gasping when you start to bounce on his cock.

Mark can’t look at you right now, it’d be too much. ..one thing is going raw —but your slick guiding his cock inside your spongy walls but it’s another just to see you. your fingers gripping against your mounds, hips faultlessly moving to a sedate pace while your slick paints his thighs. Marks eyes knock white under his arm, slinging the limb aside to cast it on your hip, “god your pussy is so fucking good” Mark stutters, dragging your cunt on his length. he almost looks disoriented—the way his face has grown a sheen sheet of sweat, cheeks bright pink and his lips—so pretty and glossy, puffy and small gusts of air excluding from it. “don’t stop please, fuck!” Mark screws his eyes shut, he’ll relish this feeling in his mind—carelessly bouncing you on his cock, and even if he came, he won’t stop—even if his cock is spent, tip so sensitive and aching for a break, he cannot simply stop.—not when it feels this fucking good.

Mark feels like he can’t breathe, lungs persuading blue as he continues to slam his cock in your hole, head tipping over and crashing into your neck but you only let out a whimper. “p-princess” he mumbles in your skin, shakily gripping your thighs and spreading them apart, “i think im gonna cum” you feel him shake as he spills inside of you. Deep groans coating your neck, the mess accumulating on your thighs, you can call out his name but he won’t answer—almost like he’s mute, mouth filled with gasps and gurgles and his cock—swelling and dragging along your walls. he knows it’s not enough—just one more time. He thinks. He needs more reeling his hips back to push the cum deeper and deeper. “s-so good for me—fuck—pussy made for me” Mark is barely moving, hips shifting on their own as he continues pulling airy moans to the surface. struggling to hold on to your body while he dives headfirst into another high, senses overcome by pure desire—he’s chasing another tranquil abyss. knees digging into the sheets below you, arms wrapped around your body and his face pressed firmly against the crevice of your neck. He can’t go back now.

#dirty thoughts about mark lee #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct #mark lee hot #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #mark nct smut #mark lee imagines #mark lee fluff #mark lee soft thoughts #mark lee hard thoughts #mark lee sexc asfff

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lavandiors · 2 months

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( 📁 compose with love. by lee mark ＿ ⭐ O1O1 )

where you accompany mark while he composes new music, but under the comfort of his arms you can't help but fall asleep.

𓍯 . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ─── pairing. lee mark x fem!reader. genre. fluff, cuddles, established relationship, mark being in love. warnings. a little suggestive (really little).

lily notes. i love mark, i really think he would make a very clingy boyfriend. he is my clingy boy. <3

you couldn't help but sit on his lap when you saw him. mark was so focused on composing his music, he didn't notice his glasses slowly slipping off his nose.

his brown hair stuck to his forehead thanks to the hat he was wearing. his glasses fell down the bridge of his nose as he leaned over your shoulder. his hands hit the table in search of creating melodies while his tongue hummed inside his mouth.

while one of his hands hit the table, the other emanated heat on your waist, caressing it with his thumb or lightly squeezing the flesh.

you placed your hand on his, caressing his fingers with yours. you heard him sigh for your soft hands between his hums. pleased by your soft touch.

you settled further between his legs, mark suddenly tightening his grip on your waist at your movements.

he sighed "don't move so much, baby" he told you, you were hitting his point and it distracted him.

you giggled "sorry" you kissed his cheek briefly, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

he quickly kissed you back before continuing with his music. you stared at the ceiling as his throat next to your ear continued to work his vocal cords with melodies.

your waist was completely wrapped thanks to his arm, caressing your side from top to bottom. mark loved touching your skin, he loved feeling you in his arms.

and although he was more focused on composing, he could never stop paying attention to you. you were his warm stove when it came to affection. because you lit an effervescent fire in his chest.

when he saw you, touched you, kissed you, felt you.

he was composing music like a machine right now, because you were there. you were his inspiration, his oxytocin was produced by you, by your presence. you were his muse.

he turned to look at you slightly when he felt a sigh leave your lips and your head become heavier on his shoulder. you were falling asleep.

he couldn't help but smile when he saw your face. calmed down. in peace. your muscles didn't show even a hint of tension. you were calm in his arms, comfortable, safe.

his hand left the table to envelop you completely. composition could wait when it came to you.

he kiss your cheek silently, once, twice, three, four times.

"my beautiful girl," he murmured, feeling peace rushing through his body. his body and mind belong to you. his thoughts are yours, because you are the only thing that wanders in his mind.

he rested his forehead against your face, while his arms continued to surround you protectively. his hands sought yours, intertwining your fingers.

words were not necessary for mark, he felt you and could swear that you transmitted your love for him with your presence.

as he fell into the limbo of sleep, with you in his arms, he kissed you again. a warm, loving and sticky kiss, that conveyed more than a thousand words.

"i love you, my muse" he whispered before falling asleep.

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xrenjunniesx · 17 days

Note

could you do one where reader reacts to their smoothie mv cuz i’m addicted fr

text reaction to smoothie MV

// bf!dreamies

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prettyrenjunn · 1 day

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𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄

mark lee x reader

11. kink shaming

ooml masterlist

guys seriously i have NO inspo and this was the last chapter i already had saved PLSSSS SEND ME IDEAS literally anything bc i have nothing

@p4tyaraujo @thisisnotjacinta @defzcl @celestialbeomgyu @kittydollzz @molensworld @haezyhyuck @cloudmrk @inthetangerine @sunghoonsgfreal @simpforarmihn @pnkified @dokgrayson @miniature-tragedy @yyangj3lly @herebyaccident0 @sleepyvic @choerubies @nmlee @n0hyuck @threeinchminimum @imsodazed @artstaeh @idkwatodoanymore @luvtyunn @alethea-moon @xyzsiissnnsnsjs @bunnyjaycheoluwu (taglist closed)

#nct dream fanfic #nct dream imagine #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fic #mark x y/n #mark lee fic #mark lee fanfic #mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #mark x you #mark lee imagines #mark x reader #mark fanfic #nct smau #nct dream smau

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ratedfleur · 23 days

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nsfw links | mark lee edition

mark lee x male & fem reader genre ౨ৎ explicit

[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.

#mikha’s works.#nct #nct mark #nct mark lee #kpop smut #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct smut #mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark smut #mark x reader #mark imagines

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p0ckykiss · 1 month

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good morning love - mark lee

summary -> mark appreciating you in a sleepless state and playing the guitar for you.

-> another repost from my old account!

the plain white bed sheet, wrinkled and warm, looked so lovely with you laying on it–thought mark. lusciously laying there in a sleepless state, eyes closed and lips dry. yet you looked as beautiful as ever.

his eyes kept moving down, examining you.

oh, your bare-less neck, covered in only a couple moles. he felt the need to mark it–to kiss it with his plump pink lips. there, only lay a gold necklace with a small jeweled heart. it looked cheap and plain yet it made you look rich; beautiful.

mark absolutely loved it on you–when his lips met the cold metal when kissing you all over.

mark glanced at your hard nipples poking out of your thin cami top. he loved how it made you most comfortable to sleep without a bra, to feel free. this light pink flowery top you were wearing made you look innocent. it was pretty, thought mark.

his fingers delicately grazed your open stomach and underwear band with his hand scratching you ever so slightly.

mark watched you start to stir awake, your face now turning to the wall. mark barely smiled and finally stood up from his bare knees, moving to sit on the floor. he picked up your beige-colored acoustic guitar against the wall and strung a couple chords, looking to see if you awoke.

nope.

mark started to softly play in the tune of your recently most loved song–that being ‘get you’ by daniel caesar. he admired this song too, finding it so calming and breathy. the soft words spoken about diving into your lover and worrying about losing them. constant worry of just being so lucky to have you. wondering, what did he do to find you?

mark hadn’t thought of finding his true lover, he knew it was impossible, but he’s always wanted to love someone. he envied those who had someone to go home to holding someone in their arms like they were too scared to let go. mark wanted to feel that love so bad. it came sudden when he contemplated if he was even good enough to be loved. the time just taking forever.

“through drought and famine.. natural disasters.. my baby has been around for me,” mark started softly. he softly tapped the chords and bobbed his head to the rhythm. he looked behind and saw you now sleepily staring at him.

you flashed him a small smile, looking at mark as you lay on your right arm. mark blushed and teeth-ily smiled back at you.

“good morning love, did i wake you?”, mark spoke, stopping his singing. “mm-mmh”, you mumbled softly, “keep singing for me”

“but then you’ll fall back asleep”, mark frowned. he didn’t listen to himself and turned back to play. his bare shoulders tensing against the cold air; his slender fingers delicately strumming over the same strings.

you loved mark so much, god, it felt like too much. like, you couldn’t even love him enough. like there wasn’t enough room in your heart to love all of him.

was love supposed to feel this tight? did it sound obsessing? probably.

but, well, mark just felt the exact same way.

it always felt perfect when you were both together and you never want it to end.

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midmourn · 3 months

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they cheat on you in your dream

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre humor, fluff warnings none, i think? note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 ( library )

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blue-jisungs · 4 months

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late night comfort

author's note. how is he even real :(

summary. your boyfriend reassures you that you’re perfect in his eyes, no matter what

warnings. reader is just having a bad day :( ,, not really a warning but female pronouns + mark calls reader pretty, my girl etc + not proofread, sorry!!

word count. +- 800

mark opened the door and almost right away took off his shoes and threw his bag into a corner. the hour wasn’t late, they managed to finished their work as scheduled so there he is, 8:30pm sharp, back home.

the tv in the living room is off, there’s no rattling of cutlery or music playing on the speakers. but your shoes are right next to his. the sight makes his heart flutter just when he hears–

“markie?”

he smiled at the nickname, locking the door.

“yeah, it’s me! are you in bed already?” your boyfriend asks and right away goes to the bathroom. good thing he took a shower right after practice and switched into new clothes, so now he just needed to clean his face and…

“myeah” you answered, something off in your voice.

mark worked quickly on his face care routine, skipping two steps only to finish it earlier. then, he almost jumped into the bedroom and grabbed his pjs.

“is something wrong?” mark asked, frowning. you’re on your side of the bed, facing the window. not turning or even peeking at him. buried under the duvet, you sighed.

“nope, just tired” you murmured.

your boyfriend almost tripped over his own legs because he rushed too early to take a step while his pants were halfway on. only because he feels like there’s some hidden meaning to your words.

“wanna talk about it, dude?” mark asked and the mattress dipped under his weight settling down.

“not really. good night, markie” your voice is muffled by the duvet.

“hey, no. at least give me a kiss, huh? i missed you like crazy, pretty, and all i see is your… well, technically the back of your head” mark joked and stretched his head, still sitting straight.

there’s silence.

“did i do something wrong? come on, i’ll die without a kiss from my girl” he whined, half-jokingly and half-seriously.

“i don’t… i don’t feel pretty today” your voice is quiet but still clearly bouncing off the walls due to the comforting silence in the room.

“what?” mark couldn’t believe his ears. you, the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on, doesn’t feel pretty today? that’s ridiculous. and heartbreaking.

“so no kiss, sorry. i’ll kiss you as much as you want tomorrow, i don’t want you to look at me now” you said, voice bitter.

“what are you talking about? no, please… you looked so angelic this morning and i bet nothing changed. did anyone tell you something?” be grunted, brows furrowing “i’ll beat them up”

“with respect, you’d lose. no, it’s just… one of the days when i look in the mirror and instantly tear my gaze away” as you spoke, mark hated the fact that your back is facing him. that he can’t see you and your adorable face.

“i know” he finally said, voice small “i had those days too. but i promise, you’re so so so beautiful, du– baby”

there’s a small movement and mark laid his hand atop your shoulder.

“can i see you? just for a split second? i missed your pretty face, seriously” mark whined.

your chest moved while letting out a deep sigh and you slowly, shyly even, turn around to peek at him through your arm. mark’s face instantly lit up, ebony irises scanning your features and a toothy smile showing his pearly whites in a boyish manner.

“ha, i thought so. you’re as stunning as ever. as if jit even more beautiful! wanna know why?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. you nod slowly, curious “because you’re laying in my bed, next to me, in our shared home”

“if i give you your goodnight kiss will you lay down and shut up?” you joked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. and mark saw that a relief washed over you. he nodded dramatically and you sat up, covers falling off your shoulders. pulling him by his shirt to close the distance, his lips almost instinctively landed on yours. the kiss is short but sweet, a form of saying ‘thank you, i love you. i needed to hear that’.

and mark felt it, knew it.

wrapping his arms around you and suddenly pulling you back to the laying position, with your head perfectly laying in the crook of his face.

“to me, you could be even covered in ketchup and mustard and you’d be still the prettiest dude ever–” mark started, only to be interrupted by the laughter erupting from your chest.

“okay, okay. i got the memo, silly boy” you poke his chest and feel him smiling from above you “same applies to you though…”

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl

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achocosun · 1 month

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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.

#𝐬𝐨𝐥's menu ᵎ #mark lee x reader #lee mark x reader #nct dream #mark lee #nct dream x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee fluff #mark lee drabble #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader

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sincerelyneo · 22 days

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no judgement | l.mk

“i can be your lover or your shoulder to cry on, you can be whoever you like”

💿now playing: no judgement by niall horan

❯ summary: Mark’s shocked to see you at his front door step crying, but he isn’t surprised. You do this all the time - get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute that asshole dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. And he will. He always does.

❯ pairings: mark x fem!reader (brief mention of yuta)

❯ genre: friends to strangers to lovers? smut, angst

❯ words: 4.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, protected sex, lowkey sub!mark, hookup, rebound sex, glasses kink, big dick mark bc yes, oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, slight begging, yuta is an asshole for the plot, reader is also kinda mean, mentions of cheating (not between mark + y/n), slight unrequited love, use of ‘pretty girl’, reader uses she/her pronouns.

Mark thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. I mean - it would make sense - the last time he’d checked the clock on his desk it was 12:17 am. So, there’s no way the light knocking on his front door is really happening…right?

He tries to focus on the papers in front of him - a work assignment that was due last week that he’d already managed to get an extension on. He knows his boss will have his balls if he doesn’t have it completed and on his desk by 8:00 am sharp tomorrow (today).

However, Mark’s fears of premature insanity are put to a quick end this time when the knocking is paired with an unnecessarily loud yelling through his letter box.

“Mark Lee if you don’t open this door right now, I swear I’ll kick your ass the next time I see you.”

Now that - the sound of your voice - wasn’t in his imagination.

You bang harder, clear that you're using a fully clenched fist to make as much noise as possible. “I’m serious dude, I’ve kicked your ass before, and I’ll do it again. Now open. The. Door.”

Mark knows he should just ignore you, pretend that he’s sleeping and focus on his work; but, he hasn’t seen you in months, and you are supposed to be his best friend after all. He can’t just leave you out on the street at this hour — he won’t — what sort of friend would he be?

He rises from his desk, removes his glasses, and places them gently on the wooden surface before pinching the bridge of his nose.

You knock (pound) again.

“‘Alright alright, jeez, I’m coming,” he says, followed by a small curse as he ushers through his hallway to the front door.

As he swings the door open, he’s almost hit with a nasty sucker punch to the cheek as you simultaneously raise your fist to knock again.

“Woah there, calm down, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint,” he flinches.

“I think it’s a little too late for that,” you point to the house next door, “That woman has been glaring at me from her window since I got here.”

Mark peers out of his house, the cold night air nipping at the tips of his ears, and sees his neighbour looking down shaking her head disapprovingly at him. He raises his hand in a feeble apology, with a tight-lipped smile to ease the edge, but it doesn’t, he knows it doesn’t and he knows he’s going to have to do a lot of ass kissing in the morning.

“Well, Mrs Kim and her husband have just had a baby.”

He watches you shrug then grimace, “How was I supposed to know that? They didn’t have one the last time I was here.”

It’s now when Mark takes in the person standing in front of him, a mere silhouette of his childhood best friend. You’re barefoot, which already raises questions in his mind, and a bottle of wine is in your hand. Your hair is dishevelled and mascara smudged under the bottom of your eye – which makes sense since he can see the faded redness from where he knows you’ve been crying.

“So, you gonna let me in or what? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

Well obviously, Mark thinks, you’re wearing nothing but a short black dress, covered by a thin sheer blazer leaving your legs completely bare in the middle of winter. Your teeth chatter and he has to suppress the smile threatening to dance on his lips because it reminds him of when the two of you used to mess around in the snow during winter break back in high school.

But he pushes those memories to the side, just like his front door, as he makes enough room for you to slip into his house. As you step inside, you waste no time making yourself comfortable - old habits die hard you guess - remembering how things used to be.

You remove the blazer you're wearing and walk over to Mark's desk, draping it over the back of his chair. Your eyes fall on the sheets of paper scattered across the surface, partially covered by his glasses. You recall that he had stopped wearing them during junior year, opting for contacts instead - a decision you found disappointing. You had always liked his glasses; they made him look kind of... cute.

“I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

Yes.

“Nah, not really,” Mark shrugs following in from behind you.

“Really?” You ask picking up a sheet of paper as you raise an eyebrow, “Marketing campaign for neo gummies, on my desk Monday 8:00 am.”

There’s a smile on your face as you read it because it’s nice to know that the Mark standing in front of you is the same as the one you grew up with. He was always the last person to hand in his college assignments, and school science projects; but don’t get it wrong, he’d always ace them.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve basically finished it.”

Mark’s lying, and you can easily tell by the way his arm reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. It's a mannerism you've become aware of, noticing how he used to do it when you asked him for his opinions on some of your uglier fashion choices throughout high school.

“You sure?” You add, “I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with your boss or anything. Especially now that you live in this fancy-ass townhouse, your mortgage payments must be crazy.”

Mark shakes his head with a smile, reaching for his glasses and putting them back on. “They’re not that crazy…”

You give him a knowing look, his living room alone is practically the size of most apartments in the city. But you didn’t expect anything less from him, he’d always worked hard for everything he had. He graduated with flying colours, found a high-paying job after college, bought a nice house; and you’re sure that one day he’d secure himself a nice girl to live in it with him.

What you’re trying to say is Mark Lee had something to show for himself, which is more than you can say after you took a more leisurely approach to college. Mark had always worked a little too hard for your liking, or maybe you just worked a little too easy for his. Either way, he’s the one with his life put together and you’re just…standing barefoot in his living room, looking a mess, with a bottle of alcohol in your hand.

“Well then, since I’m not imposing, how ‘bout a drink?” You suggest, waving the bottle of wine in the air in an attempt to win him over and distract yourself from your own reality. As shitty as it sounds, you come to Mark to escape the chaos of your own life, so dwelling on comparisons isn't something you want to keep doing.

For Mark though, he knows he shouldn't indulge in a drink – after all, the work assignment on his desk is practically begging to be completed. But he's always struggled to say no to you, and he's well aware that you know that too. It's why you're so comfortable knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning when most of the city is asleep; you know he'll always open up for you.

And that’s exactly why he’s heading into his kitchen and rooting through his cabinets until he finds two wine glasses.

When he comes back into the living room, he finds you standing by the fireplace. It's not unusual, considering you were freezing just moments ago on his doorstep from your attire. However, what catches him off guard is that you're not warming yourself by the fire; instead, you're holding a picture – Mark's favourite one – taken by his parents on the day you got your wisdom teeth removed.

"No way you kept this," you groan, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

"Of course I did. You were completely out of it on anaesthesia, going on about marrying Lee Taemin," Mark replies.

You squeeze your eyes shut, remembering the way you sent the hot senior you had a crush on in your freshman year a DM in your high state. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

But truthfully, that's not the sole reason Mark kept that picture, or why he still chooses to display it despite having hundreds of clearer, better ones of the two of you together. He treasures that particular photo because it was the day you told him you loved him – although you never brought it up again. Mark pins it down to you not remembering from the anaesthetic, but that photo, it’s the last slither of hope he has left.

“Well, I must say, Mark Lee, you have had quite the glow-up since your high school days,” you laugh putting the picture back on the fireplace.

Mark can't believe his cheeks are warming up as if he were that same teenager – pathetic, he thinks. And he wants to say the same about you, but he hardly recognizes you. You're a completely different person from the girl in the picture, and while he loves you, truly, it doesn't change the fact that you're a mess sitting before him.

To his defence, it's impossible not to notice it; he saw it the moment he opened the door and saw your smudged makeup and raw eyes – you’re defeated. And even though he knows precisely why, he still asks.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?"

You swallow, “Can’t I just come and see my best friend?”

“No, you can’t.”

His words carry a double-edged sword, both an accusation directed at you and an expression of the hurt he's experienced from your repeated instances of ghosting him over the last few months.

You begin pouring yourself a generous glass of the wine you brought along. If you were going to have this conversation with him, you weren't about to do it sober.

“Yuta broke up with me.”

And there it is. You always do this – get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute the asshole in question dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces.

And Mark hadn't forgotten the name Yuta; in fact, it had been seared into his mind ever since you posted a picture with him on your Instagram account, looking all lovey-dovey. And then Mark had gone into full stalker mode – because of course he did – he always did. But the thing with Yuta was that he was one step ahead. One particularly awful day at work, when Mark wanted to check your account, he found himself blocked.

Honestly, Mark doesn’t blame Yuta, he’d be lying if he said all his thoughts about you were completely innocent, but you’d never blocked him over a guy before. He's accustomed to the isolation, the ghosting, and the personality changes that come with you getting a new boyfriend; but being digitally blocked by you was a new low. It's safe to say Mark had already formed his opinion about your new ex-boyfriend: he was definitely an asshole.

"Why did he break up with you?" he asks, not out of genuine concern, but rather out of selfish relief. Still, he knows it's the right thing to do.

“He found someone else, or I found him fucking someone else,” you spit bitterly, “and do you know what? That fucker didn’t even give me a chance to grab my shoes before he kicked me out.”

You take a long gulp from your glass, the liquid burning slightly as it goes down your throat, and then you flop back on the sofa. Your movements are heavy, weighed down by more than just the alcohol in your system. As you sink into the cushions, a wave of emotion crashes over you, threatening to engulf you completely. It's a moment of vulnerability that you've been holding back, and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You try to fight them, push down the rising tide of emotions, but it's futile.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he reassures, quickly taking a seat beside you on the sofa and resting a gentle hand on your thigh, where he begins to rub small, soothing circles into your skin, just like he used to do. "You can stay here tonight."

You groan into your hands, you can’t believe you're acting like this – pathetic – and it has you immediately defensive. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, so quiet Mark almost misses it.

“Like what?”

“All judgy.”

“When have I ever judged you, Y/N?” he questions, his tone gentle, “I’m always your shoulder to cry on, we’re past the judgement stage,”

"I don't cry that much," you protest weakly.

“Well…” he starts, that teasing look in his eye you love.

In response, you push his chest playfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Because you’ve missed this – missed him.

And that’s the part that always stings the most: how effortlessly you two slip back into each other's company. Despite not speaking for a couple of months, it's like you didn’t lose any time. And perhaps that's why Mark finds it so easy to keep forgiving you, and why you find it so natural to slide in and out of his life and then expect him to mend your broken heart.

Mark grabs the hand you used to push his chest and looks at you seriously but gently, “Seriously, Y/N, you can just be yourself with me, just like it’s always been.”

His words resonate with you, stirring something deep within the pit of your stomach. You meet his gaze with glossy eyes, and in that moment, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion. Without hesitation, you lean in and press your lips to his.

It's a tender kiss, soft and sweet just how you expected Mark’s lips to be. And he melts into it just as much as you do, if not more so. It’s like he craves it, like he’s hungry for it. And he is because you – his first-ever crush, the girl he’s been in love with since he could remember – is pressing her lips to his. The teenager in him is jumping up and down right now.

Just as you're about to deepen the kiss, your face bumps into his glasses, causing both of you to pause as they sit askew on his face. Mark blushes and begins to fumble with them, but just as he's about to take them off, your hand wraps around his and stops him.

“Mmmm. Keep ‘em on,” you bite your lip as you reposition them on the bridge of his nose. “I like them.”

“I didn't realize you had a glasses kink,” he teases.

“Neither did I...just like them on you.”

That triggers something inside of him because his tongue lightly sweeps over your bottom lip where he nips it with his teeth. One of his hands reaches up to cup the nape of your neck; the other finds its way to the hem of your dress, intrusive fingers brushing over your bare skin, making you gasp.

He stills.

Did he just fuck this up? Was he reading it wrong?

There’s a fraction of a beat where you just breathe against him, and Mark feels a twinge of self-consciousness. And just when he’s about to apologise, you dive into him and all reservations are thrown out the window as you give him the green light.

His hand wraps around your waist and he pulls you over his lap to straddle him. It gives him all the access he needs to grab your thighs and lift you up as he stands. He keeps your lips connected as he wraps your legs around his waist, pressing into you just enough to feel the swelling in his crotch.

If you thought he was hungry for it before, now he’s starving.

Your arms wrap around his neck, your breasts crushing against his chest. Your hips start to move against him without any control, almost like it’s instinctual. You suck on his tongue and he groans. And God if it isn’t the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he says into your mouth, “Are we really doing this?”

You smile against his lips, “We’re doing this.”

You both take that as a confirmation to go harder, kissing like you’ve been starved of each other for years, and Mark supposes you have. His body moulds to yours and you feel his hand wander to your ass making your dress lift as he carries you out of the living room.

When you see him heading for the staircase you know exactly where his head is at, and when he opens his bedroom door with you still in his arms, you feel wetness pool right between your legs.

He drops you on the bed so gently and carefully not to hurt you – because even though he’s so goddamn horny right now – he’s still Mark. When your back hits the whites of his sheets it gives you a moment to look at him, his chest is heaving, lips swollen and cheeks flush. His hair is tousled and it makes your blood run cold.

He looks like pure sex. Hot sex. Good, filthy, all-night-long sex. And you want him, more than you’ve ever wanted any man before in your life.

Mark kneels on the bed in the space between your legs, coming close enough to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, and you wonder if he sees you the same way you see him right now. He brushes your cheek gently with his thumb and you lean into his caress and plant a small kiss against his palm.

His lips meet yours again as his hands slip between you two. They glide up your leg, to your stomach to under your dress, where he finds you not wearing a bra as your nipples pebble under his rough hands.

Instinctively, your arms stretch over your head, reluctantly breaking the kiss so he can tug the material off and over you, lips crashing back together as you roll your hips into his with desperation and need.

Mark groans when he pulls away to look at your naked chest in front of him, it’s a picture he thinks. One that needs to be hung up in an art gallery or some shit – actually now that he thinks about it – he hates the idea of you being on display like that for someone else.

His fingers wind themselves in your hair, a delightful shiver skittering along your body as you soften into his touch. You can’t help but grin suggestively as you look him in the eyes, top teeth holding down on your lower lip as your hands creep low enough to hook into the band of his pyjama bottoms.

Mark practically whimpers as your hand teases at the elastic, “Please.”

The plea has you smiling wider, knowing exactly what he wants. You remove his bottoms without a second thought, the same time he strips from his t-shirt. His cock springs free, thick and long and straining so eagerly for you.

You get a thrill knowing you’re the one who’s made him this hard and that makes you want to please him badly. So you do, taking control and flipping him over to be underneath you. He gasps at the motion and then he almost cums untouched at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, lowering yourself down just enough to kiss the tip of his cock.

The teasing touch sends a chill right through him. He leans back on his arms just to see you, eyebrows strained as he concentrates, glasses slightly fogged – he wants to remember exactly what you look like like this. You’re intoxicating, strong enough for him to get drunk on.

“So pretty,” he murmurs under a soft breath and you blush.

You lick your lips, focusing on his cock, flattening your tongue from the base all the way up to his head, where the slit is leaking with pre-cum. You hear him suck in a breath and it makes you smile.

You like knowing he’s needy, teasing him to ignite small reactions, but continuing to do so would only be hell for you; because right now you want nothing more than to suck on his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever taste.

You wrap your hand around his shaft and don’t waste another second before your mouth is sinking to suck on him. You manage all you can – there’s a lot of him – and use your fingers to move up the length you don’t swallow, stroking him painstakingly slow.

As you kiss and lick at him, Mark is going mad because it’s your mouth. Your mouth is wet and hot and currently wrapped around him good enough that his thighs have started trembling.

It’s not long before his hands find your hair and he helps you to slide more of his cock inside, knowing exactly when to stop instead of making you take too much. But he’s big and thick and your mouth barely covers him – which he hates – it feels like a reminder that he’s not made for you.

The thought has him letting out a growl, which catches you by surprise from the whimpering mess he was seconds ago. The grip he has on your hair tightens.

“Fuck, Y/N, suck me harder…” The dirty words sound dominant at first, but they trail off as you continue sucking on him, a lot like you’re melting him, and you fucking love that idea.

The thought of having him be so desperate for you is making you wetter and needier. And it’s that need that has you reaching up to graze his nipples with your fingers. Mark finds the chill of your cold digits distinctive, responding with a mewl that rings between the walls of his room.

You can't believe such a small touch makes him so…responsive.

Every tug on his sensitive peak is enough to pull a sound from his pink lips, enough to make him writhe his hips and edge his cock further into your mouth.

You twist and pinch and watch as Mark’s face twists in the feeling, mouth dropping open to release a stuttered breath. It’s so sensual - so carnal.

You pull off his cock with a sickening pop, looking up at him with spit-covered lips. “Who would have guessed your nipples would be so sensitive?”

Your hand stays at a steady pace, stroking him slowly as you speak. Mark shivers from the loss of your warm mouth around him, but there’s still a part of him that’s glad you stopped. But not because he doesn’t want this — he does, so badly — but because he was starting to feel his cock’s overwhelming urge to twitch with his orgasm. And there was no fucking way he was going to cum before he’d even buried himself inside you.

In a cooling breath, he replies, “Only sensitive for you.”

Warmth flushes on your face, and the arousal soaking between your legs begs to soak his cock. He’s so cute when he is all red-faced and whiny, eyes closed tightly as his brows knit together. And you suppose his own state of neediness triggers yours.

“Want you inside of me now, Mark,” you pant, “Need it.”

“Fuck~” his voice drips like honey as he moans, hands moving to grab at your waist to flip you under him.

You push yourself further up the bed and he crawls after you. It’s only now he realises the lace barrier still on your skin standing between you and his cock. Your panties are dark blue and they look so pretty against your skin.

He leans down, kissing the inside of your knee, letting his fingers slip up your ankle to cradle your smooth calf.

“Sometime tonight,” you tease.

But Mark likes to go slow, he likes to savour in your sight, study your body to remember every detail for his next late-night fantasy. He wants to bask in you being so bare and so ready for him — not your ex-boyfriend — him.

He skims his hands further up your bare legs until he slides your underwear down and disregards them somewhere on the floor. Then, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing your chests together skin to skin. He likes it like that — being so close and so intimate with you that it's almost raw.

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom. You don’t take your eyes off him once as he rips it open with his teeth and rolls it down the entirety of his length. Heat pools in your stomach because this is happening — and that makes your pussy throb.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside of you, breathless. You can’t help but sink your head back into the mattress, eyes closing.

“Eyes open.”

You lazily blink them open.

“Eyes always on me pretty girl,” he demands, thrusting into you.

You’ve never felt anything like him. You feel so full. He’s everywhere. Even your lungs and head are filled with him.

“Taking me so well pretty,” he groans.

His praise has you gushing, whining with the feeling of him stuffing you. It’s not awkward like the first time having sex with someone can be. It feels like you’ve always been doing this.

“You’re okay?” he asks.

He sounds calm, but you can see the restraint that he’s barely holding on to by the tightening in his jaw, and the tension in his brow.

“More than okay. Just fuck me, Mark. Please.”

He brushes his lips over yours and whispers, “Oh I plan to.”

You smile, but it’s quickly gone as he starts to move, fucking you slowly, then quicker and quicker, and harder and faster. The headboard is banging against the wall, surely denting it, and you know if the neighbours weren’t already pissed about your knocking they’d definitely be pissed now.

And selfishly, you can’t find it in you to give a shit because he’s like a machine, working thrusts into you at all the right angles to elicit sweet moans from your lips.

You’re panting and groaning like a bitch in heat. Mind fuzzy with euphoria as your flesh slaps loudly together. If college you knew that Mark Lee, your best friend, was about to give you an orgasm she would have laughed in your face.

But, God, the man can fuck.

He urges you onto his cock harder, clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, each time your hips connected in powerful thrusts.

“Oh God, Mark,” you try your best to keep your eyes open, but the pleasure is threatening to consume you.

“That’s it. Cum on my cock pretty girl. I won’t come until you do.”

The idea makes you want to hold off forever, let him fuck you for hours just to bask in the feeling of your closeness. However, your body disagrees with that sentiment, and suddenly you’re cumming hard.

“Shit,” he hisses, feeling your walls flutter around his length.

Mark doesn’t slow down though, he fucks you through your orgasm like a madman, hammering deep to the hilt to chase his high.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N…shit…fuck…” He growls a sound so erotic in your ear, you feel like you might cum again.

He sags onto you, his body heavy but not crushing, his skin warm against yours. You touch your fingers to his cheek.

“I don’t think I can move,” he says, breathless.

“So, don’t.”

The tips of Mark’s ears turn red at the suggestion, but eventually, he figures he needs to move — much to his dismay. He eases out of you, catching hold of the condom and pulling it off his cock. He rolls off of you and out of bed to put it in the trash before he’s back next to you, arms engulfing you in a hug.

You look up at him and he presses a kiss on your lips before pulling back. “Are you staying?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I asked first.” He says.

“I’ll stay if you want me to stay.”

Liar.

Mark swallows, “Okay well, I’ll get us breakfast in the morning then, yeah?”

He says it but he knows come the morning you’ll have slipped out in the middle of the night because this isn’t the first time he’s had sex with you.

Mark has always been your rebound. Yes, he’s your best friend, but he’s also your favourite hookup call when your boyfriend’s being an asshole.

And he knew that when he first heard you knocking on his front door. He knows you'll never change – and strangely, he's content with that, he’s accepted it. Because even though he knows you'll move on again, he doesn't mind keeping your secrets safe until the next time when you want a man to heal your heart.

Because Mark will settle for being a pity fuck if it means he gets to be a constant in your life.

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