𝗚𝗢𝗧𝟳 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 𝟭

parents ; mark

mark as boyfriend

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Taking a small peek at your boyfriend who was nervously wringing his hands together in his lap, as he looked out the car window, watching buildings fly by. Smiling slightly at his nervous expression, you felt the tinniest bit guilty for springing up this surprise visit out of the blue, not giving the poor man the slightest time to prepare.

 A small gesture of support, you took his hand, stopping him from worrying. 'You'll be fine, jeez, don't freak,' you said reassuringly, still keeping an eye out on the road.

He stays as silent as a statue for a while before the flood of thoughts pours out. 'Easy for you to say,' he huffed. 'What if your parents don't like me? What if they don't approve of our relationship? What if they kick me out of the house, keep you in house arrest and I can never see you again for the rest of my life??' the stream of never ending questions pouring out of his mouth. 

Patiently, letting him finish his rant, you shook your head laughing. 'First of all, they would LOVE you, you're like, the son-in-law of their dreams,' you stated matter-of-factly. 'Secondly, if they ever kick you out of the house I'll disown them,' you said, but looking at his alarmed expression you quickly reassured him. 'I'm joking I'm joking,' you chuckled. 'Finally, I'm 20 Mark, my parents can't exactly ground me anymore can they?' you said logically, just as you turned into your neighborhood, your parent's house being the first in the row.

 Parking the car smoothly, you get out if the car, while Mark remains rooted in place. Sighing, you open the door for him with an amused expression on his face just as the front door opened, allowing a sliver of warm, yellow light to seep from the house, two figures waiting for you expectantly.

'Come on,' you grinned, taking his hand almost having to drag him out of the car.

Stepping into the house, the smell of cinnamon and peppermint washed over you, like a gentle wave, reminding you of the times when you would have tea with your parents on Sundays. Eyes sparkling you ran up to hug your mom. 'Mama!' you shrieked, hugging her while your father looked at you fondly. 'Are you baking?' you asked excitedly.

'Yes yes you little monster,' she grinned ruffling your hair. 'I made you your favorite cinnamon cookies,' she said, taking her eyes off you to take a good look at Mark.

'So is this Mark?' she asked you in a matronly tone, giving him a reassuring smile.

Standing slightly stiffly, he bowed to both my parents. 'Nice to meet you Mr and Mrs (Y/L/N)' he said softly, shooting me 'WHY DID YOU GET ME INTO THIS' look which you completely ignored, plastering an angel's smile on your face.

'Well, sit down dear,' she invited Mark to sit on the couch with you. 'I'll just be out with the cookies,' she grinned winking at you, as your dad took his usual place near the window.

'That's right Mr (L/N)' he says, trying not to look nervous as my dad began to grill him.

Where he lived, when we met, how often we met up, although he ALREADY knew all the details. Thankfully he was stopped by my mom who brought out a plate of warm-from-the-oven cookies, steam wafting from it smelling strongly of cinnamon and butter making my mouth water just looking at them. In a flash, your hand reached out to grab one, but not before your mom whacked you lightly with the dish towel laughing.

Now there missus,' she said wagging a finger in your face. 'Let the guest eat some,' she said, holding out the still warm cookies to Mark. Huffing you slightly, you watched jealously as he took a cookie before munching into it.

Finally being allowed to eat, you snatched a cookie from the plate triumphantly, enjoying the strong flavor of cinnamon and the buttery texture across your tongue, balanced out with just the right amount of sugar.

'These are delicious Ms (Y/L/N),' Mark said, his eyes shining.

'Thank you dear, I made them because (Y/N) said she was coming down, you're lucky to have tried one, she usually gobbles up everything before anyone else can get at them,' she winked, causing you to nearly to spit out the cookie in your mouth.

'Mom,' you muttered, blushing scarlet.

'Is that really?' Mark asked a small smirk forming on his face as he reached for another one.

'Oh yes, goodness, she had quite the appetite when she was younger,' your mom said teasing you.

'Mom!' you protested slightly louder.

'Oh no please continue Ms (Y/L/N) I would love to hear more,' Mark's rare cheeky side coming out, clearly siding your mom despite your stuttered half formed words of protest.

So, the night grew on with humiliating story after humiliating story of your childhood, your cheeks growing redder by the second, until you realized you had just about enough.

'Well, it was nice seeing you again mom,' you said quickly gathering your things, dragging a grinning Mark behind you, giving her a long hug, long enough for her to whisper in your ear: 'I like this one, he's a keeper,' she whispered cheekily, causing you to pull away, stifling your giggles with the back of your hand.

'Bye mom, bye dad love you!' you cried slightly surprised when your dad, gave Mark a strong pat on the back.

On your way back, Mark was all smiles, the complete opposite of when he first came. 'See I told you it wouldn't be that bad,' you said, in that 'I-TOLD-YOU-SO' tone.

'Hmm yeah,' he agreed grinning while looking at you. '(Y/N)-ah,' he asked suddenly, causing you jump a bit.

'Hmm?'

'Can I marry you?' he asked out of the blue causing you heart to nearly stop.

'W-What?!' you asked looking at him dead in the eye.

'I mean can I marry you so that I can see your mom often and get those amazing cookies of hers?' he asked turning glassy eyed just thinking of the cookies.

'Oh My God you jerk!' you laughed hysterically, hitting him on the arm. 'So NOT funny Mark Tuan,' you nearly screamed.

'I'm just kidding babe,' he laughed taking your hand this time, pressing a kiss against it.

'But really can we go back for the cookies?" he asked pouting at you.

Rolling your eyes, you grinned. 'I'll make them for you everyday if you want dummy,' you laughed all the way home as he continued to gush about your mom's homemade cookies.