warnings: smut, mdni, mature themes, mlm, mlw, protected sex, unprotected sex, jerking off, masterbation, mutual masterbation, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), sub/dom/switch dynamics, yaoi, sexuality mentions, switch!jeno dom leaning, switch!haechan sub leaning, dom!yangyang, switch!reader sub leaning, 4some, power imbalance, orgasm denial, edging, squirting, multiple rounds, riding, choking, crying, anal, male penetration, p in v penetration, voyeurism, nipple play, overstim, cursing, petnames, possessive!jeno. not proof read. lmk if i missed any
summary: perv yangyang, jeno and haechan x fan!reader
requested!
you walked up to the fan sign table, after waiting weeks for this day you were finally meeting 2/3 of your ult biases. jeno and haechan. dream were having a concert in your city the following night and you had been lucky enough to get a slot for the album fansign today. the first person you approached is mark, the oldest and leader and the rest of the table going in age order, your eyes scanned jeno and haechans briefly, excited to be able to have them right next to each other and play them off one another. you greet the mark and renjun, a little nervous but still playful, then you move to jeno, he looks up at you with his eye smile and he can tell your nervous by your shaking hands.
“hi, don’t be shy”
“i— i’m trying… this is my first time meeting you, you are one of my all time favourites”
“ah just one of them? there’s more?”
he fake pouts and you giggle and point to the boy next to him
“and yangyang oppa too”
“why did it have to be haechan? you know he’s competitive”
“i like you both together, i can’t have you without him and i can’t have him without you”
“ah i see, so we’re like a package deal?”
you laugh and cover your face with your hand, he watches as it tremors, small with pretty rings and delicate nails
“i like your rings, can i see?”
he reaches forward and gently takes your hand and inspects
“you’re shaking, it’s okay, don’t have to be nervous, is there anything specific you want me to write?”
“you can write whatever, whatever you want to tell me”
he quietly nods and lets go of your hand so he can sign your album, he scribbles it down then turns a few pages, writing something else down and closes it before you can read it
“what did you write?”
“you’ll see”
“oppa stop playing games”
he shakes his head with a fake innocent look on his face
“is there anything you want to see at the concert?”
“can you and haechan oppa make a hand heart together?”
“i’ll see what i can do, but he might get shocked that i actually complete it, i like to leave him hanging”
“you’re always such a tease, such a meanie”
“ah im a meanie? should i be nicer to our haechannie?”
“yes~”
he smiles and sits back like he’s thinking, then pats your hand again
“if he behaves, i’ll think about it”
“okay fine… now i have to convince him to be on his best behaviour so i can see it”
you both look at haechan, he’s waving to the crowd and being a tease as he waits for the next person, you
“good luck with that”
you blush as you shuffle along, not missing his eye smile as you move to haechan. he welcomes you with his bright smile, and immediately teases you for your blush
“oh you’re nervous”
“oppa stop it~”
he just giggles
“is this your first time, i haven’t seen you before?”
“yeah, i’ve been to a few concerts, but never one of these, ive always been too shy”
“what changed?”
“i needed to ask you something”
he leans in close, not wanting to miss your request
“when you and jeno do a hand heart can you kiss his cheek?”
he starts laughing, a proud smile on his face
“i can definitely do that, but he doesn’t like when i try kiss him, he also doesn’t like completing my hand hearts”
“you have to try, i really want to see it”
“is jeno your favourite?”
“and you”
“i don’t like sharing”
“i don’t usually either, but you guys are a couple, i can’t separate you”
the words leave your lips before you realise and your eyes bulge when you do
“oh we’re a couple? like dating? since when?”
“i— i didn’t mean it like that— i just mean you guys are a pair”
he has a teasing smile back on his face as he nods along in understanding
“i see i see, me and jeno are dating, does he know this?”
“oppa! i didn’t mean it like that”
“i think you did, it’s okay, i’ll make sure to kiss him, to kiss my husband, just for you”
your face heats up, you absolutely love nohyuck, it’s your favourite ship of all time, and hearing haechan tease and play around like this brings a blush to your face. he signs your album, flicking through some of the pages, smiling then handing it back and you continue down the lineup. when you get back to your seat you scan all the pages they signed, then the page jeno signed secretly, it’s a picture of both him and haechan, “we can share” written across the page with a little smiley face. when you look back up jeno catches your eye and sees the blush on your face making him laugh. as the fansign continues jeno and haechan make more of an effort to play around together, haechan being his usual clingy self and jeno letting him.
the following day at the concert, you are stood at barricade, watching their sound check, haechan spots you in the crowd, smiling and bringing jeno over in front of you, jeno whispers something to haechan making him laugh and they both wave at you and you wave back while filming. they keep doing fan service in your direction throughout the sound check and when the actual show begins too. you hope neither of them have forgotten your requests, a hand heart and a kiss on the cheek, until you can see them walking over to your section, eyes scanning for you again, jeno reaching up to start one half of the heart, haechan smiling and leaning into complete, while landing a big obnoxious kiss to jenos cheek, catching him off guard, your hands shake and you scream happily along with the rest of the crowd at their display of affection. haechan winks at you with his lop sided smirk and jeno just shakes his head at haechan, pointing to you, wagging his finger as if to say “you tricked me” or “you happy now?”
you and your friends happily watch the rest of the concert. shouting dancing and singing along and when you’re back at the hotel you look through all your videos, rewatching all the nohyuck interactions over and over.
over time you start attending more fansigns, winning fancalls with both jeno haechan and yangyang, attending wayv concerts, asking yangyang during your calls with him when the next time he’ll see jeno and haechan, when you can expect nct nation and he laughs and tells you it’s a secret, tells you he can’t give too much away. but he can tell you’re desperate for it, can see you want nothing more than to see your 3 favourite people interact and be all over each other again.
“you really like us huh?”
“oh yeah, i was eating good when 90’s love dropped”
yangyang laughs and nods along
“ill see what i can do”
“i’ll be waiting”
“i know you will”
months go by, almost a whole year. and then the nct nation announcement drops. you are so excited, you start planning and saving, you and your friends booking the hotels near the venue in preparation. once your tickets are secured you book time off work and of course your travel. wayv have another fanmeet just 2 weeks before and you get tickets for that as well. and of course yangyang recognises you
“we finally getting that nct nation”
“i guess your waiting paid off”
“i definitely manifested it, it only took me 11 months, but i got there”
“i hope you got tickets”
“oh of course, even if i didnt i would’ve found my way in there, nothing is holding me back from seeing my yangnohyuck”
“yangnohyuck?”
“you, jeno and haechan obviously”
“i see i see, you speak with them quite a bit don’t you?”
“i apply for their fancalls every comeback, during their most recent comeback i lost haechans call and jeno said he’s going to make him jealous, so i can expect him to be sulking the next time i see him”
“don’t act like you weren’t sulking too”
“i wanted to rip my hair out”
yangyang laughs again, and the way he looks at you always makes you blush, he has eyes like he wants to devour you, always flicking from your lips to your chest then your neck, then back up at your eyes
“i would be jealous too if i was him, don’t like missing out on speaking to our pretty girl”
your eyes widen at his boldness and you laugh awkwardly
“yangyang… not infront of the kids”
you gesture to the fans behind you and he laughs
“do i make you nervous?”
“a little when you talk like that”
“yeah but you like it, right?”
“yeah”
“thought so”
he signs your album, handing it back and you thank him, and he squeezes your hand before you’re walking away.
when nct nation finally arrives. you are wandering around the city near the venue, not actively looking for members, but you definitely wouldn’t shy away from asking for a photo if you did spot any. as you’re walking near your hotel, you can hear your name being shouted, you stop in your tracks, waiting if you hear it again. when you don’t you keep walking until you hear it again, you look around, you can’t see anyone, but you know that damn voice… then a black mini van is pulling up slowly, about to turn into the parking garage of your hotel, you look at the van and the window is rolled down, yangyang, taeyong, haechan mark and jeno in the van, haechan jeno and yangyang excitedly waving and calling your name. you laugh and blush and wave back, all your confidence from before now suddenly gone. until haechan beacons you over to the van
“yn! your dreams came true!”
“what are you doing!”
“come here!”
you look inside the car, mark and taeyong just watching you, haechan speaking up again
“just come!”
“go inside! there’s people who would kill me out here if they saw me!”
all of them start laughing and jeno says something to the driver, the driver rolling his window down and nodding you to follow them into the garage. you look around, there doesn’t seem to be any significant signs of crazy deranged fans, so you quickly walk behind the van into the parking garage, when the car comes to a stop one of the staff members tries to push you back, you sigh as you let him manhandle you, not wanting to cause trouble, until jeno is getting out of the car rapid
“wait wait! she’s with us, stop! she’s good!”
the staff member looks to him, then the manager and driver as they both get out of the front
“she’s with them, let her go”
he lets you go and you straighten up your outfit, everyone else piling out of the car, mark and taeyong nodding to you before following the staff member inside, leaving you with the manager jeno haechan and yangyang.
“so is it everything you’d hoped it would be?”
“yangyang what are you talking about?”
“well? us? your three favourite people”
you slowly pan to their manager then back to them
“uh… sort of…”
“are you staying in this hotel?”
“yeah, i promise i’m not a stalker”
haechan speaking up now
“don’t lie”
you laugh at him
“i’m not! this hotel is just convenient for the venue”
“sure, sure”
jeno watches you as your eyes flick between them, then he lands on the manager, having a conversation with just their eyes
“can we walk you to your room? just in case there’s any fans who try kill you?”
“definitely not because you want to know what room i’m in right?”
“oh that would be absurd~”
you smile and the manager lets you in through the staff entrance and walks you to the corridor, all of them following you to your room
“well, this is me”
“you alone?”
“my friends are in there, they’re sleeping, we traveled all night”
jeno nods
“you should get some sleep, you have a busy weekend”
“yeah, sitting in the crowd is hard work”
“i wasn’t talking about that”
“what were you talking about?”
the three of them share a look before he pats your head as they start to walk away
“jeno?”
“we’ll see you tomorrow yn”
their manager looks back at you nodding before taking them back to their rooms, before leaving them he talks with them
“what do you want me to do?”
“get her info, she needs the best treatment, move her seats, get her the best package, her and her friends”
“write up an NDA too, make sure her friends are escorted back to their rooms after the show, and if she wants to see us, she can meet us backstage, we can bring her back with us”
“are you sure? you think you can trust her?”
“we can trust her”
their manager nods and leaves them, all three of them going into jeno and haechans room, yangyang speaking as he gets comfortable on the bed
“so how are we going to do this?”
“well you know me and jeno have no problem getting freaky, and we all know she ships both of us hard, and she is obsessed with you”
“so what we fuck as her and yang watch?”
“not exactly, we can all just kinda fuck each other”
“haechan i love you bro im not putting my dick in you”
haechan smiles sickly sweet
“i can put my dick in you yangie”
jeno kisses his teeth before speaking up again
“that’s enough, only my dick goes in you, and your dick only goes in her”
“jeno~ i love it when you’re jealous~”
“guys im serious, we need some sort of plan”
“me and you, we rile them up, get them all hot and bothered, i know how to get this one to submit in like 6 seconds”
“oh my god it is NOT that fast”
“oh yeah?”
jeno pushes haechan back to lie flat on the bed and kicks his legs apart, thumb finding his nipple through his shirt and he rubs harsh little circles making haechan moan as yangyang watches with a lop sided smirk
“don’t try me baby”
“fuck… okay”
“shit haech you’re easier than i thought”
“shut up”
haechan sits up with a huff jeno speaking up again
“like i was saying, me and you, we get them both all needy, once we have them right were we want them we can just tease and edge them both for a bit”
“no- why? what the hell, why am i getting edged?”
“because it’s so fun to break you haechannie~ plus you always cum super hard after”
haechan pouts again crossing his arms, the thought of getting edged for no reason, not even as a punishment, frustrating and also exciting him, especially knowing you’ll be in the same boat as him
“you sit her between your legs, play with her pussy as she watches me jerk him off, then after we’ve had our fun, we fuck their brains out, then as a treat, we let them fuck each other, see which one of them has it in them to dom the other after all that”
“that’s l sounds like a good plan”
“excuse me you and i both know i have dommed you in the past”
“i never said you couldn’t baby, im just saying, you think you can pull yourself out of subspace? after all my teasing and edging? whoever wins gets a special treat
jeno lightly cups his face, bringing him in close
“what’s the treat?”
“that’s a surprise”
“i can do it…”
“yeah?”
haechan nods and sighs as jeno brings him in to close the gap and kiss him
“fuck maybe she’s onto something, you guys are kinda hot”
jeno laughs and breaks away from haechan
“are we all in agreement?”
“what if she says no?”
“don’t worry i’ll still fuck you, can’t give you too much blue balls”
jeno brings a hand down to squeeze haechans obvious boner making him flinch and whine and yangyang laughs
“and what about me?”
“you got a fist?”
jeno smirks and yangyang looks down at his dominant hand, then back up to the pair of them
“i can’t wait to see this desperate attempt at him domming”
“don’t you have your own room to go to? or you wanna stay and watch him suck me off?”
“alright alright, i’m leaving~ my room is down the hall, so just keep the noise down, i know you’re a loud mouth”
he pinches haechans cheek teasingly before walking towards the door, haechan throws his slipper at him as he leaves the room, leaving haechan and jeno to their own filthy business. as yangyang enters his own room, he seems so lost in his thoughts, hands are constantly rearranging himself in his pants thinking about not only you, but his two friends, thinking about both of them and how often they both must do this, how naturally they both indulge in each other, how right now haechan is gripping the sheets and bucking up into jenos mouth, how tomorrow night he’s going to have you, his pretty fangirl, naked in between his legs, his hands in your drenched cunt as you both watch jeno ruin haechan.
kun watches him, curious as to what has got him in such a trance, his eyes flicking to the boys crotch just once
“yangyang ah, what are you thinking about? stop touching your dick right in front of me”
“huh? …oh i— sorry”
“how was lunch? sorry i missed it i was so jet lagged”
“hm?”
“lunch? you just got back from lunch with mark taeyong haechan and jeno right?”
“oh! yeah lunch was fine…”
even the mention of their names had goosebumps rising on yangyangs skin, he tries to start up a conversation to try and distract himself, but all he can think about is you jeno haechan and himself.
“you know that girl? the one from the fansigns?”
“yang you are going to have to be a little more specific than that”
“you know, yn? she likes me, she’s got the long hair, she was at the fansign two weeks ago, she said she was coming tomorrow?”
“hmm i don’t think i remember her face”
“what? how can you forget her face?— anyway, we drive past her on the way back from lunch”
“okay? is there more to this story?”
“uh… no, not really”
“i think you should get some sleep”
“yeah, maybe… what time is rehearsal tomorrow?”
“we gotta be there 7:30am, sharp, the vip soundcheck starts at 2, so everyone gotta be done by 11:30”
“alright, i think im gonna shower quickly, then take a nap”
“good idea”
yangyang walks into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, and sees for the first time, just how raging his hard on was, kun definitely saw it, even though he tried his best to adjust himself, it was obvious, is that why he asked if there was more to the story about you? why he asked him to stop touching his dick? or was he just curious? did he notice? surly not, no he definitely noticed, he saw him touching himself, he saw him trying to hide it. yangyang sighs and closes his eyes in embarrassment, and before he could stop himself from speaking he’s shouting through the walls to kun
“did you see?”
“see what?”
“my— my dick?”
“yeah… just get in the shower”
why the fuck would he ask that? why was he bringing attention to it?
“fuck sake…”
yangyang curses under his breath and starts stripping, turning the water on. he hisses as the water hits down on his sensitive tip, closing his eyes again as his hand wraps around himself and biting his lip, trying to conceal any moans, it doesn’t work as the small echoey room enhanced every little noise he made, even the water has the sounds ricocheting off the walls and kun is on the other side awkwardly trying to ignore them as he puts his headphones on. yangyang now shamelessly beating his meat in the shower he shares with his best friend, his leader, wrist twisting and jerking over himself at the thought of two of his best friends fucking each other, and of course you, the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and so desperately in love with him. he knew it was unprofessional, he knew there was a power imbalance, he knew it would be cruel to give you the night of your life and most likely never see you again, he knew he couldn’t ask you to abandon your whole world to follow them and their dreams, but the image of you he has in his head, sprawled out and crying for him, begging, watching desperately as you look over at jeno and haechan, looking up at him with those big eyes, all of it was ruining every ounce of composure he had left.
he keeps jerking himself off, groaning and whining when hot ropes of cum spurt out on the tiled wall, he jerks himself through his orgasm, slowly bringing himself down from his high, he was not envious of you or haechan, knowing you’re both going to have this feeling ripped away from you however many times tomorrow night. then he realises he has to wash himself off the wall
“shit…”
he catches water in his hands, hurling it at the wall as the shower head is mounted to the wall brackets, he keeps going until it’s all washed off, quickly wetting his face and hair, lathering shampoo and conditioner on while washing his body. quickly before stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist, he checks himself in the mirror to ensure “yangyang jr” is well and truly down, before stepping out of the bathroom, kun locks eyes with him and raises his eyebrow then back down at his laptop as yangyang starts to blow dry his hair lazily. he steps into a clean pair of boxers once he’s fully dry and puts on some lotion and moisturiser before climbing into his own bed. he faces away from kun, and closes his eyes, but his mind is wide awake. and they start going back to the three of you and he thinks to himself
“don’t… don’t go there, think of something else yangyang, think of literally anything else… not now, do not get fucking hard again…”
he opens his eyes, peeking out the window, it’s still day light, only 3pm, and he starts listing off things he can see outside, trees, busses, how many red cars have gone past? 7? 8? oh now it’s 9, is that person here on vacation or are they walking back from work? i wonder how many people out there are fans- fans like you- NO! yangyang focus… what kind of bird is that? maybe a pigeon? oh that one was definitely a pigeon, don’t think he’s friends with that bird there? or maybe they’re rivals, which one has the best bird nest? do you think they flew far or do they live around here? yangyang what the fuck are you doing? just go to sleep
yangyang let’s his mind shut off, even if it’s just for 20 minutes, he wakes up feeling like he slept for 20 years, he shoots up, panicked, thinking he’s late for rehearsal, kun shocked by the sudden movement beside him
“bro! oh my god what time is it? am i late?”
“yangyang you have been asleep for less than 30 minutes, chill”
“oh… jesus christ…”
“are you actually good bro? you can’t be this frazzled tomorrow, we got 2 full shows this weekend”
“no i’m good, im so good, i just think the jet lag is getting to me”
“alright, as long as you’re okay… you wanna maybe grab some food? i’m getting hungry, i know you ate not that long ago, but i was looking at the hotel menu, looks pretty good”
“yeah, yeah let me put some clothes on and we can head down to the restaurant”
both of them get up out of bed and start changing into better clothing, clothing suitable for a hotel restaurant and when they’re ready they make their way down. once seated they order their drinks and food, when their meal comes yangyang almost chokes when he sees you and your friends walking into the restaurant, kun is facing away from you, but yangyang has a clear sight of the door, you smile and wave at him as he starts reaching for his water and you walk away with your friends who are none the wiser that they’re both sat there.
“yangyang? oh my god are you okay? do i need to give you cpr?”
“no— i’m good— i just— breathed too quick— while swallowing… sorry… im good”
“what has gotten into you? walking around upstairs touching your dick, jerking off in the shower, acting strange, now choking on your food… don’t have a crush on one of the hotel staff?”
“what? no! gross- also can we not talk about my dick? we’re trying to eat”
“fair point, my bad”
they pair of them keep eating and he looks around trying to find where you’re sitting, it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t find you again. when both men are finished kun pays and they head back upstairs to their room
the next morning yangyangs alarm rings in his ear, both of them sitting up groggily, getting ready for the day, yangyang packing some spare clothes for later tonight, some extra cologne too as well as some condoms he secretly sneaks into his bag without kun knowing. once escorted into the back of the venue they meet up with the rest of the members, jeno ans haechan huge smirks on their faces when he struggles to keep eye contact. after their 4 hour long rehearsal and soundcheck, they all meet back stage, jeno haechan and yangyang sitting in a green room themselves
“i could barely sleep thanks to you too”
“aw yangie were you up all night thinking about us?”
“yes i was actually, thinking about you being a whiny fucking brat, thinking about tonight, thinking about watching you and her fall apart”
“haechan it seems yangyang was more into us than we thought”
“don’t tell me that the thought of me watching didn’t excite either of you”
“oh jeno was loving it”
jeno slaps haechans ass
“watch it”
“do you think the manager has spoken to her yet?”
“he went this morning, with new tickets under her name for her and her friends, some passes, not sure if he gave her the NDA yet, she would’ve been with her friends”
“i saw her yesterday, at the restaurant in the hotel”
“did she say anything? did she look like she knew about the NDA?”
“was hard to tell, she just walked past me and waved, and i was choking on my chicken so i couldn’t really tell”
“you are so weak”
“am not! i was just surprised”
“are you ready for tonight regardless?”
“bro i’ve been getting hard every 20 minutes thinking about it you tell me”
“i can’t lie we both have been the same, there’s something about her”
their conversation is cut short when yuta hendery and jisung walk in
“oh- sorry didn’t realise you were in here”
“hyung, there you are, are we playing league tonight?”
“no, sorry i have plans tonight”
“are you two seriously fucking each other again? you blew me off last night too”
“sorry jeno was too busy blowing me off last night”
jeno elbows haechan
“a little bit of decorum? like even just a tiny bit?”
“jeno you know our haechannie is insatiable, decorum doesn’t exist when he wants his meat beat”
“oh yeah trust me i know”
“why are you guys calling me a slut?”
“cause you are one hyung”
haechan just rolls his eyes and pushes out the room, hendery looking to yangyang
“are you fucking him too?”
“what? no of course not”
“then why is your dick hard”
yangyang rolls his eyes but the lump in his throat is getting harder to swallow, maybe he did want to fuck haechan? or did he want jeno to fuck him? would you want him to get involved in them? nohyuck was your ship and you seemed very specific about it. would he ruin it for you? he gets up and follows haechan, ignoring the laughs from his members
“haechan! wait!”
“what do you can call me a slut too?”
“i’m not going to calm you that, calm down”
haechan turns around and spots his hard on
“yang are you… hard? did you get hard at them degrading me?”
“not… specifically, but like i said… i can’t keep thinking about last night and what we talked about”
haechan looks past yangyang and spots jeno catching up to them
“jeno ah, this one’s hard again”
“will you stop?”
“oh yeah? lemme see?”
before yangyang can protest jeno has a strong hand on his shoulder and turns him around, eyeing his bulge
“fuck me, you weren’t kidding, need some help?”
“no— i… are you serious?”
“do i look like im joking?”
yangyang looks around, before dragging them both into a near by room, checking to make sure its empty before letting them both pile in and locking the door
“get on your knees, and help me out, both of you, you caused this, now you’re both gonna fix it”
both of them get down on their knees, all 4 hands coming to fumble at yangyangs fly and pants button, before they’re tugging his jeans down with his boxers. he looks down at both their submissive faces
“jesus i knew this little brat would be easy to crack but you? look at you jeno, so pliant”
yangyang pats jenos head as they both stare up at him with big eyes.
“you, suck me off, i know you’re good at it, and you, suck and play with my balls, show haechannie you’re not as tough as you look”
both men immediately get to work and do as their told, yangyang laid back against the couch, legs spread as his dick slides in haechans mouth with ease as jeno licks and fumbles with his balls beneath haechan.
“such good boys, that’s it, get me off”
both of them whine at the petname, the sensation causing yangyang to moan.
“fuck, if she could see you know what do you think she’d say? huh? our pretty girl you both better give her the attention she deserves, don’t be selfish, understand? tonight is about her, not me, not either of you, her, you gonna give her what she wants?”
both of them hum around him while nodding their head yes as best they can
“good, so get it all out of your system now, she’s out there, you know that? just over those walls she’s waiting in line, excited, she’s got to have signed that NDA by now, she’ll be pressing her legs together, wishing she could just touch herself and here we are, doing the one thing she wants to see most in the world, you guys feel lucky? feel proud yet?”
haechan pulls off of him
“so fucking lucky… jesus…”
yangyang groans and buck his hips as he feels jeno suck his balls deep into his mouth
“fuck… look at him haech, isn’t he so good?”
haechan looks down to see jeno, tears in his eyes as he desperately tries to get yangyang off.
“he’s so good…”
“that’s right. now get back to work, i wanna see my cum in that mouth”
haechan goes back down on him, head bobbing and hands twisting as they both work yangyang until he’s letting go, jeno desperately wanting to feel him shoot his load down his own throat, but he doesn’t dare step out of line or go against yangyangs wishes, watching as haechan holds the creamy white seed in his mouth
“jeno look, are you jealous? your haechannie got his mouth full and it’s not yours”
“a little… but i want it too”
“take it then, take it from him”
jeno regains just a little dominance, pulling haechan to him before he has a chance to swallow, tongue darting in and collecting as much of it from haechans mouth as he can, both of them passionately making out right there in the floor in front of yangyang.
haechan sits pack with cum over his chin and lips, swallowing the tiny bit left over in his mouth
“not fucking fair, that was mine and you know it, worked hard for that”
“shut up, you got most of it”
“i absolutely did not, you fucking stole it”
yangyang watches them bicker and haechan lunches forward from his knees straddling jeno right there on the floor, in between yangyangs legs
“all you did was suck his balls, that nut was mine”
“what you gonna do about it”
“i need someone’s cum in my mouth”
yangyang watches as they argue in between kisses, before haechan has jeno pushed back against yang
“hold his arms, he’s not pushing me off”
yangyang holds onto jenos arms as haechan yanks down jenos sweats letting his cock spring free. he immediately shifts so he’s on the floor in between his legs, yangyang with a strong grip on jenos wrists and another in his hair
“sit still for him, it’s the least you can do after taking his nut”
“you told me to do it”
“and now i’m telling you to sit still”
jeno groans and whines as haechan goes down, deep throating him, throat fully accepting of his size.
“fuck me he knows your cock like the back of his hand, good job baby, taking him so well”
“only i call him that”
“not anymore”
jeno whimpers as yangyang tugs on his hair and they both watch haechan victoriously suck jeno off. yangyangs hand goes from jenos hair to his broad chest, hand squeezing his peck, then thumb brushing his nipple making him thrash
“our ynnie is going to have a field day, i don’t think she realises just how lucky she is, do you?”
“s— she does, she knows how l— fuck! lucky she is… shit… keep going baby, please”
“yeah? you might be right”
haechan doesn’t stop until jeno is spilling down his throat, proud smile on his face as he drinks it all down before anyone has a chance to take it from him this time. yangyang releases jeno and he’s heaving hard
“did so good haechan, two cocks in 10 minutes, better make sure that throat is lubed up for your performance tonight”
“trust me, it’s been lubed up real nice”
“i think it’s only fair you get your dick sucked, been such a good boy”
“who gets the pleasure?”
he has a teasing smile on his face and before yangyang can speak up, jeno is getting him into position
“don’t piss me off, you know only i suck this fucking dick baby, i don’t care if you just had me begging and whimpering, the only mouth that goes here, is mine, you understand?”
“fuck— y-yes jeno…”
“maybe yn if she’s real good tonight, would you like that? like having our pretty girl suck what’s mine?”
“if you let her”
jeno smiles at that before tugging haechans shorts off in one swift motion and yangyang watches as jeno pumps him a few times before sinking his mouth down on him. haechan immediately starts squirming and whining as jeno focuses on his tip, a raging red colour, glossed over with precum and spit. he can see jenos back muscles flexing and contracting through his tight shirt, just watching the pair of them, his hand finds his own cock as he watches, never in his life did he think that watching two of his friends get each other off would make him so unbelievably hard, even after both of them just had him in their mouths, sucking him off.
he knew his members, he knew the reputation all of nct has, countless ships, impossibly endless possibilities of different pairings and dynamics, he knew a lot of them were experimental with one another, and he had participated a few times with some of the wayv members briefly before (ten and xiaojun) but these two never crossed his mind, he was for sure a firm believer in markhyuck and nomin, and of course seeing jeno and haechan together like this doesn’t rule out all other possibilities, but it was certain that these two were more than just random hookups to fill a void, or get some kind of fix. did any of them have any specific labels? gay? bi? curious? horny? a mix of all of the above? he knew himself he was bi curious, with a stronger lean to females, and haechan was a lover of all people, but jeno? is this the right time to ask? no it definitely isn’t, jeno has his mouth full, also it would definitely kill the mood. yangyang snaps himself out of his thoughts, just watching the show in front of him, while tugging at himself. haechan watches yangyang with tears in his eyes, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard and his hands fly to jenos hair.
“you look so pretty like this, haechanie”
haechan bites back a smile, obviously loving the attention and bucks into jenos mouth making him gag a little
“try sit still for him baby, be a good boy”
haechan whines as he tries to ground himself and his hips to the floor and jenos big hands come to his thighs to keep them spread out
“i— im gonna- fuck! jeno im gonna cum!”
jeno doesn’t let up, on hand snaking up to hold his chin in place, keeping his gaze directly on yangyang as he jerks off, he sucks haechan in hard making his eyes roll back as he shoots his load into his mouth, with a string of curses and fucked out high pitched whines and breathy moans. jeno sits back on his heels with a smirk as his wipes some cum from his lips bringing it to haechans mouth for him to lick clean.
“atta boy…”
they’re brought out of their daze as they hear yangyang letting go from above them, ropes of his cum covering his hand, and fingers, once he’s calmed down he’s drawing haechan in with a sticky cum soaked finger
“come here, get a proper taste, since i was such a meanie last time”
haechan happily sucks and licks his palms and fingers clean, all three of them sitting with their pants around their ankles, dicks softening, both haechan and jeno still on the floor as yangyang remains on the couch. they look so cute like this to him, no matter how dominant they can be for each other, or submissive, both of them look up at him as if he holds all the power, both completely succumbing to what he says and asks of them.
“we should get out of here, they’ll be looking for us”
the two others nod and stand, pulling their clothes back on and they watch as yangyang stuffs himself back into his pants before all of them leave the room behind. haechan going off to 127’s green room, jeno going to dream’s and yangyang going to wayv’s. when haechan gets back his eyes are still glossy from his tears and cheeks still rosy pink from all the panting, taeyong laughing as he sits down
“and where were you? we’ve been waiting for you for 20 minutes”
“i was busy”
“busy, oh yeah, who with?”
“none of your business hyung, let’s just get ready for tonight”
johnny speaking up
“you might want to dry those eyes now, before you get your make up done and it starts to run”
haechan huffs and wipes his eyes and cheeks with his shirt. he locks eyes with yuta who has a look on his face that tells him “i know what you did and who you did it with” he just looks away pretending to be innocent.
the show starts, and you and your friends are having a great time, they couldn’t believe you had “won” new vip tickets, especially at such short notice, they had no idea of the real reason you had been moved and upgraded, all you could think about was the NDA you had signed that morning, the same manager from yesterday finding you in the hotel that morning, exchanging numbers after he had upgraded your seats, then getting your email, and within 20 minutes the 10 page long NDA was in your inbox. you had briefly scanned over most of it, something you normally wouldn’t do before signing an important legal document, but you got the gist; no recording, no pictures, no secret devices or hidden cameras, no disclosing anything that happens outside of the people it happens with, no anonymous reporting, no rumours, no allegations, this had to be kept very secret, and you were able to change your mind at any point, each clause laid out as you read over the document, which you had no problems with, so you signed, emailing your version back over to his manager, then he is texting you with details about where to meet him at the venue, so you can get in with him, he will escort you to your seats, and escort you out of the venue, as you had been upgraded to the most premium version of ticket there is, almost none being sold through retail ticket sellers, reserved mostly for artists and family. you had lied to your friends about what kind of tickets they were, saying that you also knew some staff from the venue from previous concerts and that’s why you got an escort, just staff taking care of you guys.
your friends are either really gullible or extremely chill because they don’t ask any questions, just following you in through the venue with the staff and you secretly thank who ever is looking down on you that they just keep their mouths shut. during the show you and your friends get lots of interactions, all of them have plenty to gawk at tonight and post all over social media, but all you can think about is what could possibly be in store for you later. jeno haechan and yangyang spending a considerable amount of time sending fan service in your direction, posing for your phone camera, haechan clinging to jeno just for you. when the backing track for 90’s love starts you are up out your seat screaming along to the lyrics, jumping around and waving your lightstick as all 3 of your men perform, they smile as they watch you and the crowd, but mostly you. you film as much if it as you can with shaky hands as you’re too occupied with dancing and screaming along to the track, watching as the song draws to a finish. and you sit back in your seat, pressing your thighs together.
as the show finishes up and the crowd starts to leave you tell your friends to wait, someone will collect you guys and take you out safely. they all nod and again, keep their mouths firmly shut, as if asking questions would erase the entire night of fun they just had. you spot the same security and manager from before coming to your section, ensuring you all go out safely and start walking you all towards the back of the venue, straight across from the hotel staff entrance.
“alright you ladies all you have to do is show the staff these passes and they’ll let you in and back up to your room, ma’am come with me a second, we have some gifts for you to collect”
your friend opens her mouth, about to say they can wait on you, but you just look at her with sharp eyes
“you guys go, i’ll meet you back in the room in a bit, i have my pass, they’ll let me in”
she nods and your little friend group start walking with a security towards the hotel. the manager leads you backstage, towards a green room, its empty, just a laptop on the coffee table
“i need to confirm the signature, and have you sign a paper copy”
“that’s fine”
he brings up your electronic signature on the document and you confirm it’s yours and you sign the paper copy
“now what?”
“they’re are just getting ready, i’m going to take you up to one of their rooms, i’ll have to come back here and collect them and bring them to you, will you be okay in there on your own for now?”
“yes, yeah that’s fine”
“alright, come with me”
he takes you to the hotel entrance and you both show your staff id passes, and he brings you to haechan and jenos room, unlocking it with his key
“make yourself comfortable, you can use the shower or anything you need, i’ll bring them soon, if you change your mind while we’re gone, leave this pass on the table, and i’ll collect you outside the venue tomorrow to bring you to your seats, you have my number”
“okay, thank you”
he shuts the door and you’re alone, you try not snoop, but it’s hard not to, just picking up small things like cologne bottles, moisturisers, perfumes, small details that make them, well them. you check yourself out in the mirror, hoping you still look fresh after the concert, you consider taking the quickest shower of your life, but it’s too risky, you don’t want to mess up your hair or makeup, also using someone else’s shower without them knowing seems wrong, so you just reach into your bag and spray some perfume again, hoping to look and smell pretty for them. you pace around the room, flicking the staff pass against your manicured nails out of habit, looking out their window, sitting on the bed, on the chair by the desk, your friends start calling you and you put your phone on dnd, wanting 0 distractions.
40 minutes have passed since their manager left you, 40 minutes of thinking and pacing, you think about what you’ll say when they first walk in, how do you stand? do you sit? how do you greet 3 idols who are about to rock your world? a handshake? is that too formal? is a hug too informal? is a simile smile and wave too awkward? do you make small talk first or jump straight into bed? all these thoughts are flowing around your mind when the door unlocks and creaks open, and they all walk in, you realise your still sitting on the desk chair and you stumble up onto your feet
“h—hey… hi… sorry”
all three of them smile fondly at you, not flashy desire filled smirks, just nice genuine smiles, yangyang speaking up first
“you’re cute when your nervous, but please, relax, we can take this at your pace, we haven’t done this before either”
“okay… thanks, that actually does make me feel better”
jeno steps closer to you, he feels more bold than he’s ever been in his life, he is an introvert, so making a move like this with a practical stranger is new for him
“are you okay? can we get you a water? something to eat? do you want to sit down?”
“i’m okay, we can sit”
he takes your hand softly and all three of you walk to the bed, it’s designed for 2 people, 3 max, so haechan awkwardly lies at the foot of the bed making you laugh
“you’re kinda in my spot you know”
“sorry pretty privilege”
“am i not pretty?”
“okay princess privilege”
“am i not a princess”
you roll your eyes but wave your hand at him, prompting him to come closer, you move and he squeeze in between jeno and yangyang and you sit on his lap
“better?”
“much better, good thinking”
you smile and look down
“you okay?”
“yeah, i just don’t really know how to start this… what do i do now?”
“you wanna start with a kiss? or we can just talk for a bit?”
“a kiss is good”
haechan smiles and puckers up as he leans in and you kiss him, letting it deepen and he takes the lead, both other men watching you like hawks. when you break away for air yangyang tucks your hair behind your ear and you look at him, leaning in. he meets you half way as you’re still straddling haechan, holding your jaw as he kisses you passionately, then when you break apart you turn to face jeno, only to find him already making out with haechan
“holy shit…”
the pair of them break away with a small laugh
“you like what you see?”
“yes, yes do it again”
you push their heads together making them laugh and kiss again and yangyang watches you stare them down
“you should’ve seen them this morning”
“w…what?”
“they’re always all over each other, i honestly didn’t believe it until i saw it, you’re onto something with these two”
“i knew nohyuck was real i felt it in my bones”
the pair of them break away laughing again and jeno brings you in for a kiss too, you let him take control and guide your head where he wants you, when he pulls back he kisses your nose
“told you we could share, right pretty?”
“right”
“good girl~”
you bite back a moan at the pet name, letting your eyes flutter closed, haechan speaking up
“oh she liked that”
“so do you”
“call him a good boy, please”
“well, he would need to be good in order to hear that, isn’t that right”
jeno looks at haechan expectantly and he nods
“yes”
jeno turns back to you, knowing smile on his face
“see? sit up for me baby, i’m gonna need his lap free”
you sit up out of haechans lap crawling to yangyang who welcomes you with open arms, snuggling into your neck and leaving kisses there
“are you okay if i touch you? can i take your skirt off?”
“mhm, yeah take it off, please…”
he helps you shimmy out of your skirt, then looks to you asking permission to take your thong off too and you nod yes, both jeno and haechan watching, you feel a little shy as everyone else is still fully dressed, that is until jeno is yanking haechans pants down with his boxers. your mouth waters at the sight, not only at how gorgeous haechan looks like this, cock springing back against his stomach, but how easily jeno can take control. of you of him, it was all so exciting to you. haechans head rolls and he turns to face you, locking eyes. a hand reaching you to yours to rub soothing circles on the back of your hand. it warms your heart just a little, even though despite his compromising position, he’s still looking out for you and ensuring you’re comfortable.
yangyangs hand slides up your thigh as he pushes your legs apart and his fingers spread your folds.
“god baby… you’re soaked”
“s—sorry…”
“don’t apologise baby, nothing to be sorry for, you’re doing so good for us”
when his thumbs finds your clit your whole body jolts and you squeeze haechans hand, eyes flicking back to him and jeno, who’s slowly starting to stroke him, yangyang helps you sit up and move back between his legs so you have a clear view of the other two, head resting against his shoulder as your back sinks into his strong chest, your legs hooked over his own as he has you spread out for both jeno and haechan to watch as his fingers work you open. pads of his fingertips rough on your clit then his strong slender fingers pressing into you, you and haechan lock eyes as you both whine and thrash, moaning out as you both get stimulated, jeno using his free hand to hold your chin towards him
“you feel good baby? yangyang making you feel so good?”
“yes! so good oppa… fuck!”
jeno and yangyang share a look, they work both you and haechan out at the same time, and you get close to the edge before haechan does and yangyang pulls his hands away from where you need him. you shine out and buck your hips, haechan wants to laugh, but he knows he’s seconds away from facing the same fate. yangyang rocks you against him gently
“i know, i know baby, im so cruel huh? i’m sorry”
when he can tell your orgasm is well and truly ruined, stripped away, that’s when he touches you again, fingers back in your folds making you heave and twist as much as you can, thighs shaking over his own, you watch haechan convulse, twisting and squirming and jeno releases him, watching as he cries out, arms flying to his crotch to try and relieve himself but jeno traps his hands
“don’t you dare”
“please… jeno please”
“don’t touch”
he bucks up against nothing as jeno sits back and watches.
“he’s so needy isn’t he princess”
“nghhh… mhm!”
“but you’re just as bad~”
he flashes you that famous smile, patting your cheek gently. the pair of them get you and haechan wound up again and again, ripping orgasms away from you. you’ve lost count by how many by now, also lost count of how long you’ve been here, could be 1 hour, could be 10, you’re so fucked out you have no idea. you’re snapped back into reality when you can feel your orgasm approaching again, looking up at yangyang with pleading eyes
“p— please, can’t take it… need to cum”
“what do you say jeno? have they suffered enough?”
“mhm, poor babies are sweating”
“t—thank you… fuck! yangyang! ah! nghhh!”
yangyangs fingers are relentless as the thump into you. curling and stretching just right, pushing right up against that spongy spot inside of you before you’re orgasm washes over you, squirting and spraying your release all over yangyangs thighs and the bed sheets
“oh fuck baby… weren’t kidding, needed that bad huh?”
“yes… holy shit… fuck— fuck i’m sorry!”
“what did i say before? hmm? don’t apologise, don’t be sorry”
“i’m embarrassed… it’s all over the bed”
“don’t worry baby, i can sleep in haechans bed, don’t need to worry about that”
you turn and hide your face in yangyangs chest and he holds you close
“you’re alright, you did so good for us baby, just breathe okay? you want some water?”
“yes please… i’ve never done that before”
“it’s okay, its normal, just means you felt so good, just lay here, i’ll be right back with some water for you okay”
he lays you against the pillows and you watch as jeno brings haechan to orgasm too, hot ropes covering his abdomen and jenos fist. haechan reaches over again and pats your thigh, grounding not only himself but you too. yangyang comes back with a glass of water and you sit up and drink yangyang gives you time to catch your breath as you watch jeno strip haechan of the rest of his clothes then his own. you drink the water with shakey hands and yangyang stands beside you rubbing your back
“you done?”
“no… no i just need a minute, please”
“of course, take all the time you need baby”
you watch as jeno helps haechan onto his knees, his face is flushed but his eyes are blown with lust and desire. you watch jeno pour lube in between haechans cheeks and you swallow hard, you can’t believe what you’re about to see, about to be apart of, the noises you’re going to hear. jeno lubes himself up too, pumping himself before lining up with haechan, and he starts pushing in slowly and haechan immediately starts whining and moaning in that high pitched broken way, eyes watering as his arms shake as he struggles to hold himself up.
you look to yangyang and pass him your glass, lifting your arms up and taking your shirt off
“you sure? we can wait a little longer”
“i’m sure, please fuck me oppa”
“alright baby, how you want me to fuck you?”
“c-can i ride you?”
“sure baby, let me get rid of these, and get a condom yeah?”
“o—okay… hurry, please”
he smiles as he stands up and removes his clothes, grabbing a condom from his bag, ripping open the foil and rolling it down on himself before getting back on the bed, you can’t get haechans moans out your head, wanting to watch as jeno fucks him, asking yangyang to turn slightly so you can see everything when you’re on top. you hook your legs over his lap, letting him line himself up with your entrance, sinking down. you’re whining and hissing as gravity does most of the work for you. your eyes lock on haechan as he squeezes his eyes closed as jeno pounds into him, his sounds are so guttural and pretty, filling your senses along with the sound of jenos balls slapping against him. yangyang starts thrusting up and you start to bounce to meet his thrusts and you cry out, haechan opens his eyes to watch with jeno, all three of them mesmerised by the way your tits bounce with you.
“fuck isn’t she so pretty haechanie?”
“y— nghh! yes! so fucking pretty! ah! jeno!”
“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well, such a good boy”
both you and haechan moan out at the pet name, you can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe your own luck, your 3 all time favourite people all fucking each other and you, praise and filth fill the room as well as the strong squealch of both you and haechan getting stuffed full. your breath hitches as yangyang spends up and you fall forward, catching his lips on a hot steamy kiss. when he can tell your legs are giving out, he changes your position, moving you on your knees infront of haechan, face to face. you reach out and cup his face bringing him in for a kiss, drinking each others moans, it’s sloppy and messy, spit interlacing and dribbling down past your lips and chins. both of you choking on moans as you lick at each others lips and tongues. jeno and yangyang now pulled each other in for a make out session as they drive their hips into you.
haechan drops down, arching his back as he gets closer to the edge, and your hands fly to his hair, twisting and twirling his locks and you look up at jeno with your fucked out eyes, glossed over and submissive, letting him watch as his friend buries himself as deep as he can go inside of you
“you okay princess?”
“yeah… feel so full… so good oppa”
you can feel yangyang press a soothing hand down your spine.
“you’re doing so good baby, such a good girl for us”
you moan out making jeno and yangyang laugh but their hips are unwavering
“you’re clenching like crazy baby, shit… you gonna cum?”
“yes… please let me cum, please i’ve been so good”
“i know you have baby, been such an angel for us, cum whenever you’re ready baby, i’m right behind you”
you squeeze him tight, tighter than before before your creaming around him, and he praises you, before he stills inside you, hips pressing deep and hard against your ass as he unloads into the condom and you’re crying out, you would’ve done anything to him have raw and feel him paint your walls, but you know this is how it has to be. he pulls out and snaps the condom off, and throwing it in the trash. he holds you close as you watch haechan cum over himself and the sheets
“see? not the only one who makes a mess”
you watch in aw as jeno brings himself to orgasm, pressing deep and releasing into haechan making him shiver with a sense of familiarity and desire. jeno catches his breathe, pulling out and watching himself spill out. you crawl over to jeno, getting in his lap with shaky legs and kiss him before pulling back to watch him spill out too.
“fuck… jesus christ…”
“it’s hot right?”
“yeah… i knew i wasn’t crazy”
jeno laughs a little as haechan lays on his back again, remembering the plan, trying to muster up everything in him to try and switch into his dominant headspace, sitting up he holds your hands pulling you into him
“one more? have you got one left in there?”
“yeah… you?”
“yeah…”
you both collide in another messy kiss, fighting for dominance as each of your tongues dart out and lick at the others. yangyang and jeno jerking each other off as they watch, jeno speaking up
“who ever wins gets my mouth”
both of you now fighting with new found urgency
“that’s not fair he must get your mouth every single day! this is my once in a lifetime chance”
“better win then, princess”
you growl as you manhandle haechan, pushing him back down onto his back, hand wrapping around his neck, squeezing slightly and he moans out. you smile victorious, spitting down in his open mouth for good measure and his eyes are rolling back. you line yourself up with him, none of you even noticing he hadn’t put a condom on, all 4 of you too lost to concentrate on such minor details. sinking down on him hard and fast, making him cry out. you were determined to win, not give haechan any opportunity to flip the tables and have you pinned, so despite your thighs and knees burning from your previous attempts at riding yangyang, you push through the pain, push through it all to have your thighs and ass slapping his own as you meet him. you clench and squeeze, writing your name out with your hips, rolling, dropping gyrating, anything you can do, pulling out all the stops, every trick in your sleeve you’re doing just to ensure he remains as fucked out as this, and in jenos defence, not even haechan works this hard for head being the brat that he is, so he was definitely going to give you what you wanted regardless.
you keep working on haechan, whining and crying out at the pleasure. you steady yourself using his shoulders. it’s so much, feels so good and you’re so sensitive, and he’s the same, eyes rolling back as you don’t let up
“fuck! shit— baby fuck!”
“you’re so big haechan fuck!”
you can tell that goes to his head as he starts to smirk, so you tighten your hand back around his throat, smirking as the look on his face melts into submission again and it’s not long before he feels you cumming around him
“fuck… oh shit!”
you pull off of him just in time for him to release over his stomach.
“fuck… that was so good”
“shit baby, you don’t have to tell me that”
jeno pushes you down
“i know you’re sensitive baby, but you got one more left? you earned it alright”
“please, jeno please! fuck!”
he pushes your legs up and apart and sees just how much of a mess you are down there
“fucking hell baby… look at this pussy, so fucking pretty, so messy baby”
you whine and push you hips up towards him and he wastes no more time and pushes his face into your folds as he laps you up and your back arched off the bed, you’re covered in sweat, spit and tears. haechan coming up to bring one of your nipples into his mouth, and yangyang starts kissing you again, taking advantage of your slack jaw as his tongue explores your open mouth. all three of them drink in your reactions and sounds, jeno holding your thighs apart with his strong hands. he feels you twitch and clench around his tongue and he comes back to sucking your clit into his mouth, pulling back as you squirt again and scream into yangyang’s neck.
jeno runs you through your orgasm, letting the waves crash over you to a slow stop. you’re crying by this point, overstimulation too much, all three of them soothing your hair and skin yangyang helping you sit up and handing more of your water
“here baby, drink this, you’re okay, you’re safe”
you drink up, dehydrated and worn out. leaning against him as you chug the water down, jeno gets up and gets a wash cloth, bringing it back a little cold and damp as he pats you over with it, before cleaning between your legs making you flinch
“i know, you’re doing so good, just a little more, just cleaning you up”
you sniff as haechan plays with your hair
“you alright? you okay?”
“yeah… i just— that was a lot”
“i know, you did amazing, i’m impressed”
you laugh a little out of breath, as jeno stands back up and throws the wash cloth back into the bathroom sink. when he comes back you’re practically asleep.
“can you pass me my stuff? i need to go…”
“you’re about to pass out”
“exactly, just give me my clothes, i need to get back to my room… friends are waiting”
jeno speaks up
“do you want to sleep here?”
“i would love to, but you guys will be up at the ass crack of dawn, and i’m exhausted i need sleep”
“alright, let’s us help you yeah? can stay here tomorrow night? we have a rest day after tomorrow”
“okay…”
the three of them help you get redressed and you get up on shaky legs and the three of them walk you back to your room, it’s now 3 am, middle of the night, no one around, they watch as you get your key out, they kiss your cheeks and lips before walking away back to their own rooms. you open the door, all your friends waiting up, worried
“where the fuck have you been?”
“why was your phone on dnd?”
“it’s 3am yn!”
you walk in and collapse into the bed, thinking of a lie
“sorry, me and the stag started talking, and we went for a drink at the bar, got carried away, had too much to drink, i’m exhausted and need some sleep, i’ve got us the same tickets for tomorrow, sorry for worrying you guys”
they all just share a look and nod yes, not wanting to push or ask anymore questions. as you get undressed you secretly thank whoever is looking down at you again, glad that no one asks anymore questions pressing questions, as much as you want to be honest with them, you really don’t know if they would be able to keep quiet about this and you can’t risk that.
you get undressed and into some pyjamas, getting comfortable in bed and drifting off to sleep. jeno was right, you had a long weekend ahead of you, and your tummy bubbled with excitement at the thought of doing it all over again tomorrow.
warnings: fluff, play fights, hair pulling, protective!dreamies, mentions of periods, taeyong and johnny cameo, bts bullying scandal mention! mentions of alcohol consumption. that’s it i think?
summary: dreamies x 8th member!maknae!reader before the poly relationship.
requested!
mark:
• before your relationship started with the members and you were still just the groups maknae, and not yet their shared girlfriend, mark was just as nurturing towards you. like he is and was with all the dreamies, and with you he was always more lenient. you could always get away with teasing him or trying to kiss his cheeks
• didn’t let any of the dreamies or the older 127 members tease you too much, a little playful teasing was fine but if he could see you blushing or getting embarrassed for real he was stepping up and speaking up, “don’t say that to her” or “let her play the game, she’s not that bad, look at her pouting”
• has a very hands on approach when helping you with work, always stays in the studio with you when you record, talking over choreography with you, he has a lot of patience for you, and you’re the only one who can get away with teasing him as much as you do. just a small smile as you joke around with him.
• overseas he roomed with you then too, but you stayed in separate beds, when flying and travelling he is your seat mate, lets you fall asleep on his shoulder or lap.
• during your rookie era you got your first period and you were surrounded by your male group mates and male staff, you didn’t know who to talk to, but mark could tell something was very off, you had left for the bathroom 40 minutes ago and there was still no sign of you, so as the leader he was tasked with going to find you, he knocked on the ladies room a few times “yn? yn are you alive?” “go away mark!” “jeez… are you pooping? it’s okay if you are” “i’m not pooping! oh my god! i just— i can’t come out…”
• poor mark doesn’t know what’s going on. “uhh… okay, i’ll go tell them” he leaves and goes back to the practice room, “she says she can’t come out” his manager saying it’s not good enough and you need to come back, and he leaves with a sigh as he was sent back to get you, “yn it’s me again, i need you to come out they’ll shout at me if i come back without you” “mark please just leave me alone… or like get an unnie, i need to speak to a lady” “what? why? just come out come on you’re wasting time and you’re gonna get in trouble” “mark if you tell me to come out one more time i will climb out of the window and run away and never come back”
• he’s walking around looking for a female staff member, but he can’t find any, only finding taeyong. “hyung, can you help? she won’t come out and been almost an hour” both of them now outside the bathroom door “yn i got taeyong hyung” “THATS NOT AN UNNIE” “I COULDNT FIND ANY” “yn it’s taeyong, can i come in? are you alone in there?” “don’t come in…” “it’s okay, i know what’s happening, you don’t have to say it in front mark if you’re embarrassed, but do you have anything with you?” “…no” “what’s happening?” he ignores marks question “do you need clean clothes?” “yes…” “yn ah did you pee yourself?” taeyong pushes mark away “oppa i’m embarrassed, i can’t go back in there, and now im in trouble, i need to speak to an unnie, i have spare clothes in my bag, but i don’t have anything else” taeyong instructs mark to get your bag and promises to find you a female staff, to wait there. when he comes back he has a makeup artist and mark is giving her your bag with your clothes. 20 minutes later you’re walking out with the staff member, your face is red from crying and embarrassed and you’re sulking “sorry for shouting at you” “why were you in there so long?” taeyong tells him to leave it, just go back to practice. you thank him and the makeup artist before following mark back to the practice room. after practice you’re held back and scolded for running off, and back at the dorms mark keeps asking what happened.
• “i got my period, like my first ever one, i didn’t know what to do, it was all over my clothes, there, are you happy now?” “oh… ooohhhh… aw man now i feel bad for shouting even more, you could’ve told me” “i was embarrassed!” he makes you promise to tell him next time, even if it’s just him, so he can make sure he doesn’t say anything wrong, and also make sure you had everything you needed in the company building and at the dorms. “just tell me next time, i won’t make it awkward, and i don’t want to be invasive, it’s private i know, but it’ll save you getting in trouble again, don’t need to disappear like that again” “okay fine… i’m sorry”
renjun:
• struggled to communicate a lot when he first joined the company, both of you would constantly be getting mad at each other for not understanding one another.
• “no, over there, that’s my water bottle!” “i don’t know!” “renjun oppa what do you mean? im literally telling you that one is mine!” “im not korean! im still learning!” you roll your eyes and pick up your water bottle
• when his korean got better you would still bicker, just about other things, you guys definitely acted like cousins or siblings in the beginning, bickering then making up then teaming up on someone else.
• after your debut and in the following years your dynamic shifted from less sibling rivalry to protective best friends, whenever renjun needed you to back him up you would, regardless of his argument, and he would do the same with you
• you had secretly learned a lot of mandarin to try understand him and chenle better, but you had learned the wrong dialects so they would both tease you for that.
• as you got older he would help you with mandarin and you would help him with korean, most of the teasing stopped, and just remained playful instead of intense. he no longer pushed away your skinship and instead was welcoming your hugs and cheek kisses with open arms and a content smile, something shifted when you were 19, not yet an adult but still older and mature, he could really tell you were blossoming into an incredible woman, and it really drew him in even more.
• try and find someone prouder of you than him, because you won’t, okay maybe the other members but they don’t count, they’re all on the same level as him, but anyone else is no comparison. he is really enamoured by you and how talented you are, and just how captivating you are.
• always complimenting you and your stage presence, he is always saying the stage is your true home, and that getting to be beside you up there is a real honour.
jeno:
• was quite quiet during trainiee days, both of you prepubescent, neither of you really knowing how to interact, he was shy, and you hadn’t really ever been around boys before, especially not older boys, and especially not as many as there are in nct. it definitely overwhelmed you being the only girl in the whole group, but when you were just with your unit, just you and the dreamies, it seemed less scary.
• you and jeno didn’t have a lot in common but he always smiled softly at you which you reciprocated always. after a few months of training, your rookie era and eventually you’re debut, both of you had gotten a lot closer, he was still a little shy, but he did the best he could to be a good friend and member you could learn from
• he was pretty well behaved and he’s a little older, so sometimes you would drive him crazy with your antics. he would rarely scold you, that’s not his job, but he did try and keep you on the right path, but he never snitched if he saw you doing something you shouldn’t.
• you guys became really close very quickly, as he got older and taller he was like a giant teddy bear to you, he would always let you snuggle up on him whether it was on camera or not, and the others teased him for having a soft spot for the two youngest members, always giving in to you and jisung, claiming you both were the cutest out of all the members
• being a few years older he would always try and look out for you at school, whenever you guys got the chance to attend, after the 00line graduated, you slowly stopped showing up to school too. not really having the time to juggle school work and growing group activities, and also not wanting to be anywhere where jeno wasn’t.
• you just somehow always found yourself next to jeno a lot, he felt like such an anchor for you, like he had his own magnetic pull that kept you safe and kept you grounded, even as kids. and as you guided yourself through puberty, and becoming a woman and not just a little kid, he was always there, he was always a constant, they all were, but jeno was the quiet firm presence that you needed.
haechan:
• oh you both brought out the worst in each other. you were the one who was encouraging him to kiss mark. everyone scared as hell whenever they saw you two looming around the corner together. would often get called the shining twins, just the pair of you causing trouble together whenever and wherever you could. you and haechan are both june geminis and it was a recipe for disaster, both of you being able to feign innocence so easily. all of you had a field day bullying bts back stage at music shows, especially you and haechan.
• lots of play fights, you guys would fake wrestle all the time. you were a big instigator in all his mischief and vice versa. always convincing each other to pull fun pranks on the members or play silly games together
• he was very fond of you, someone who could match his energy and have fun and not take things so seriously, he really needed you in those times, being so young and having so much demanded of you, being able to let loose and have a friend right there ready to cause some lighthearted trouble by his side always made him feel better
• you also really need him, he felt like such a safe place for you, all of them did over time, but haechan was someone who you instantly connected with, and you guys would constantly share secrets and worries with one another.
• he was actually the first person you had confessed to, first person you confessed your feelings for everyone, you were so scared, it was so abnormal and absurd to have a crush on all of them, and you thought maybe telling him it would take the pressure off and your crush would fizzle out, but he was very understanding, he didn’t tease, he let you talk, and he even said that he has felt the same too, he felt so connected to you and he knew that only he would be good enough for you, the only other people he would ever trust around you were your members, and told you it wasn’t weird, it was completely natural and okay to have developed these feelings
• he helped you confess to the rest of them, he stood with you while you shook a little from nerves, as the words came out your mouth he was squeezing your hand.
jaemin:
• he has always treated you like a princess, even since predebut, he was always really polite and respectful towards you and as you got older he just kept spoiling you.
• during his hiatus earlier on in your careers, you would always call his home, checking in on him. you were so excited when he came back for go and empathy era, and he was gushing about how much you had grown since your last comeback together.
• he always made sure that you were appropriately dressed and covered when you were a minor, placing hoodies, blankets or jackets over your lap when you wore skirts or shorts. he doesn’t want to make you feel awkward or uncomfortable, doesn’t want to point out why you have to cover up, so he does lie just a little “here, this will keep you warm, i can see you shivering” “thank you oppa, is this your hoodie?” “mhm, just keep it there for now, i’ll get it later” stands back into his position with a smile on his face
• whenever your group would take group pictures with other idols he gently pulls your hand to make you stand in the centre, he doesn’t want any male idols hands on or near you, so he’ll always bring you to stand just a little bit further a head of everyone, “yn~ come stand here, make sure you can be seen”
• the older both of you got the more protective he got over you, he knew as you drew closer and closer to becoming an adult you could handle yourself, but he has this undying urge inside him to keep you safe and hidden from any dangers of the industry. he also knows how media likes to treat young woman so tries his best to shield you from that before becoming an adult officially
• when you had confessed to everyone he couldn’t contain his excitement because he had slowly been falling for you since he had come back from hiatus all those years ago, and there was an agreement with them all that they had felt the same, and they only they would be good enough for you, only they could be trusted around you.
• before you all had actually came to your agreement he was already acting like a protective boyfriend so not much had changed when you did get together.
• he always celebrates any of your own personal wins, like maybe you reached your step count for the day, he’s clapping with a proud smile on his face, or maybe you got a good grade in a subject you thought you would fail, he’s jumping around with you praising you for working and studying hard. he was your cheerleader from day 1.
chenle:
• a lot like renjun, struggles to communicate, especially when he first joined the company in 2016. you and chenle did get in some fights as he was learning korean, he would ask the older members how to say certain words and sentences to get under your skin.
• “how do i say idiot in korean?” “who are you calling an idiot?” “… no one…” mark follows his eye line and sees you sitting on the couch during your break, “i’m not telling you that, don’t call her an idiot”
• mark has had to break up some fights whenever chenle used to get on your nerves “oppa he said my outfit was ugly!” “i never meant that! i don’t know the korean word for pretty!” “yes you do!” when he starts laughing you pull on his hair making him scream and mark is pulling you off him and making you both apologise.
• the more time you spent with him and the more you helped him practice korean and english he realised you weren’t actually that bad, you were actually really sweet and funny and he felt bad for all the trouble he caused you and apologised properly.
• he apologises for all the times he’s purposely annoyed you when you were on your period, at the time he thought it was funny but now he actually knows what it is and what’s happen to you better, nothing about it is funny.
• when you were younger, if you weren’t fighting you guys were always heard screaming and squealing with laughter, and as you get older you really get on everyone’s nerves together, always laughing and cackling with each other, and a rule is established that when you guys travel for an extended period of time you can no longer sit beside each other, because after a long haul flight and you guys were chatting and laughing for the full 14 hours and the staff and members around you couldn’t get any sleep, everyone extremely tired and cranky walking out of the airport while you and chenle continue to laugh and joke.
• he has tried to teach you how to play basketball like 100 times, and you can never remember the rules or points system, and you also can never score, he laughs so hard as you aimed for the basket and it bounces off the board and hit you on the head on the way back down and you ended up throwing the ball at him making him flinch and scream.
jisung:
• when he first met you he was so shy around you, even if you were his member, you were still a girl, he didn’t know what to say to you the first few times you met. but he quickly grew fond of you. during rookie era the 127 members were always gushing over you two as you stood shyly in front of the camera, johnny and taeyong both took special interest in the two maknaes at the time.
• the pair of you were always seen sitting on someone’s lap, jisung awkwardly pulled in and forced to sit while you happily sat down on whoever with open arms for a hug. after debut you and jisung connected a lot through dance, spending a lot of time together practicing, both of you being main dancers he could finally relate to you in someway.
• being over a year younger than him he did expect you to call him oppa, which of course you did anyway, but it gave jisung a bit of a complex, he doesn’t have anyone to call him hyung, if you weren’t there he would be the youngest, so he cherished the formalities a lot, and as he got older he stepped up to the plate a lot when it came to taking care of you and being a strong oppa that you could depend on.
• you rarely ever teased him, he was the closest in age to you, so you felt like you couldn’t get away with as much as you could with some of the older members like mark.
• jisung was really captivated by your stage presence too, he thinks you are the number one performer he’s ever seen, even when you’re so young and physically small, when you’re on stage you have a 10 foot attitude and you demand the attention of everyone. you can command a room, even just the practice room, all staff and choreographers eyes are on you, and he learns a lot from you in that department, sure he could nail the moves and sing and rap the words perfectly, but to be able to sell the fantasy to fans consistently is something he could only learn from you.
• when he becomes an adult he mentions you a lot saying that he couldn’t be the man he is if he didn’t have you to learn from, if he didn’t have you to care for he wouldn’t know what kind of man he could be or want to be, but with you he knows exactly who he wants to be. someone strong and dependable, a man who can take care of the people he loves, someone who can shine bright on stage, and he learned it all by being your oppa.
• despite being the second youngest he really takes care of you, spoils you a lot once he’s fully comfortable, always agreeing with any plans or ideas you have, even if they’re silly. when you become an adult it’s his turn to tease you for how you acted when you got drunk for the first time. “czennie, she is a cry baby when she drinks! she started crying on her birthday after telling us how much she loved us!” “oppa! don’t say that!”
→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo
genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au
synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.
warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)
disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.
an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol
‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.
Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.
Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.
With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.
At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.
“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”
Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.
The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.
That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles.
“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.
When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them.
So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.
“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving.
Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh.
“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang.
It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.
“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”
Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout.
Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.
“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance.
He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.
You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.
The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.
You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.
Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself.
So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.
Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him.
“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work.
Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.
He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone.
“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed.
Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”
How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.
“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”
Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?
Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”
He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.
Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.
Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.
But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.
“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee.
Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.
Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.
“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle.
“Lunch with a special friend?”
“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”
He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.
The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.
“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.
The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.
Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.
“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.
One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.
He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.
“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation.
“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.
“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.
“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.
He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?”
His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there.
Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true.
The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd.
Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes.
‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’
A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right?
Hmm…
Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.
“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.
Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.
Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?
Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.
Pick up cleaners,
fix the leak in the kitchen
pick up order from cafe 7 dream
find a new car inspection place
pick up Venetia’s leave cake
Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.
Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?
Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?
God, no… he was being irrational again!
The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on.
Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake.
Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.
‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’
‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’
Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.
‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’
The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his.
He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife.
The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’
It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.
His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.
Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section.
His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.
Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.
Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.
In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.
The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.
He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.
At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.
His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.
Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.
“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”
It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.
“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”
Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.
He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.
The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.
You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.
Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters.
That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up.
He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.
That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.
That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.
You're not her...
Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.
“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers.
“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.”
Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do.
“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.
Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that.
“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember.
Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect.
“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?”
“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”
Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.
Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.
“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”
He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.
‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight.
A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?
No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.
But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?
Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.
“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine.
01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.
‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.
The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.
He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.
With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.
‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’
“What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.
‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘
00:59 at the time you began writing that.
He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.
He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.
Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you.
The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.
“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck.
Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically.
That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.
Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.
It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.
Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.
“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.
Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.
He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.
You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.
Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.
On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.
With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.
“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.
“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.
“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.
The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.
“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you.
His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.
Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.
Possession is the word he’s looking for.
His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them.
Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.
The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.
Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.
“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.
You believe me like a God,
‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.
I’ll destroy you like I am.
Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.
His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.
“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.
His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.
Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.
Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.
“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again.
Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.
His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.
“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.
In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.
“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.
“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.
“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.
To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.
He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.
The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.
To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.
Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.
Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.
“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.
“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.
With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.
But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.
After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.
Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.
Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.
It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.
“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while.
Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.
Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.
The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”
‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.
How selfish.
“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.
Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.
“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.
‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.
How selfish.
A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.
“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.
You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.
Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.
The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab.
Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity.
You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.
“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?”
“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.
“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.
‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained.
Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.
He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.
Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.
Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.
Misery loves company.
His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.
You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.
“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?”
“Please…”
You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you.
After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.
Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with.
By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.
He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.
Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.
All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.
Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…
‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’
Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.
Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.
Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.
He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.
For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either.
Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.
Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.
‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’
Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.
Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.
He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.
03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.
The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.
“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”
I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.
Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.
This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?
‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’
The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.
Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!
But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.
No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat.
He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace.
He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.
Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.
It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.
He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.
A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.
“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”
Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…
It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration.
“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.
You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.
You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.
“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way.
“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.
You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.
“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes.
You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.
“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich.
Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.
“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”
Fuck.
“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so.
He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability.
“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.
“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.
‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.
Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.
Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?
Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.
“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator.
Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.
Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.
Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.
“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.”
Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.
“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”
A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.
Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.
He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.
It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.
Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.
He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.
Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.
Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.
No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.
The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.
“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat.
Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.
“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.
I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.
Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.
His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.
Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.
So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.
The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.
Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.
Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain.
Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.
Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?
He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.
Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”
It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).
Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.
“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.
“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…”
Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”
Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.
You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.
In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.
History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.
You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.
Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.
Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.
He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face.
And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.
The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.
He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.
The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.
Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.
“Why don’t you love me anymore?”
Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”
“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.
You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.
His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?”
Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.
He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo.
There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.
If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.
“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.
He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?
I’ll betray you like a man.
Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.
“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”
Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.
The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood.
“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.
“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.
Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.
“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.
Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.
“I think we should take a break.”
Selfish, selfish, selfish.
“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses.
“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”
You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be?
“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”
Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.
“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.
You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.
“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.
“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault. You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”
Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals.
Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.
You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.
“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed.
“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain.
"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down.
Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.
He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.
Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly.
“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.
With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.
He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.
Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.
You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.
if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !
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➪ mark lee x cisfem!reader ✩ w.c 8.5k
— NSFW ✩ 18+ minors dni —
✰ NON-IDOL AU
pov: you're a camgirl with a secret admirer who's a little (okay maybe a lot) obsessed
note: y'all do not understand the pain,,, the struggle,,,, the trauma that this fic has inflicted upon me <//3 i quite literally started writing it last year on mark lees stupid lil bday and have been typing away at it for so mf long and have had to dig into the deepest filthiest depths of my brain to finally finish this,,,,, anyways welcome to my twisted mind and we can all blame mark lee my greatest enemy,,,, i hate u… anyways pls make note of the warnings !!! btw don’t ask me what website they’re using idk i couldn’t be fcked to think that hard
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, aka smut, obsessive behavior, viscerally lewd comments, uh lying LOL, wolf in sheep’s clothing energy (good church boy mark lee and his hidden demons <3), honestly both reader and mark r freaky (aww they match each others freaks!), readers thinly veiled shame kink, unsafe sex/no condom, barely any prep lol, not beta read bc im a full send girl (sorry for any typos etc LMAO)
There’s clearly something wrong with user ‘66golden_boy99’ and you can’t quite figure it out. Sure, he seems to be just another fan of your work. And maybe his comments tended to be on the imaginative side.
i wanna dick you down til next tuesday
stuff your guts this thursday and stay buried in you thru the weekend
til youre cryin to me about how you can feel my dick in your throat
how pretty would you cry for me?
That little voice in the back of your head whispers (the one that sounds far too much like Donghyuck), an annoying little I told you so, someone was bound to get obsessed. It wasn’t like you never considered or even feared the possibility.
But these comments, this person, there was something there. You click into a different video, scrolling down to a specific cluster of comments.
i wanna ruin you so fuckin bad
ruin that pussy for anyone else
wanna hear you beg me to stop
until it turns into begging me for more
sound fun sweetheart?
Every video, every clip, every single little teaser you post; there’s a thread from him. His stupid username right there, ‘66golden_boy99’ and a digital paper trail that ranges from being unforgivably horny to borderline demented and most of the time a combination of both.
fuck if i could keep you in a little cage…
i’d fuck u every day all day
turn you into my perfect little pet
made just for my cock
don’t you want that too?
You can’t help but let your mouth gape at that one, a cage? Your head spins at the thought, trying (and failing) to not let your imagination wander.
There’s a certain thrill that crawls down your spine, twisting itself deep into your gut and lodging itself there. An ache that just you can’t quite itch yourself, barely sated by these comments.
So yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with user ‘66golden_boy99’ but that could only mean there’s something wrong with you.
“Mark, read this! Isn’t it insane?” Donghyuck all but smacks him in the face with your phone.
“Oh! Um.” He immediately flushes, no doubt flustered by the nature of the comments along with the fact he’s one of your few friends who still gets a little red in the cheeks by your choice of profession.
Good church boy Mark Lee at your service. Who thankfully plucks your phone from Donghyuck and passes it back to you— most likely to avoid further being subjected to such filth in broad daylight.
“Don’t bust a tit Hyuck, it’s just some dude living out his freaky fantasy while hiding behind a screen.” You knew it was going to be brought up the moment you saw your friends, but you had hoped that Donghyuck would have the decency to not mention it while seated outside a popular cafe on a busy street.
Jokes on you for thinking he could keep his cool about this. The moment you had sent a screenshot to the group chat Donghyuck had been rearing for a fight, overly scandalized and always righteous whenever he thought his friends were being treated badly.
There was no way in hell you’d tell him those comments piqued your debased interest.
“It’s a little creepy.” Jungwoo settles on, stealing a blueberry off of your parfait. “He doesn’t message when you’re live though.”
“Nope, only comments on clips and videos.” You bite back your disappointment, maintaining an almost clinical tone.
“Does he even watch your streams?” Jungwoo questions as he attempts to swipe a strawberry this time, narrowly thwarted by you whacking his hand with your plastic spoon.
“What difference does it make? He’s a fucking perv!” Donghyuck snipes.
The answer is yes, he does watch every single one of your streams. Occasionally donates too, yet no messages. No live interactions.
“Hyuck, my whole fanbase are pervs.” You ignore the glare of an elderly woman as she passes by your table. “When did you become such a prude?”
It’s enough of a jab to send the man into a fit, ranting and raving about how he’s perfectly freaky enough and that his boyfriend(s) is (are) so into how weird and kinky he could get.
“Seriously though, is he scaring you?” Mark whispers, careful to not catch Donghyuck’s attention lest he starts laying into you about your “creepy” admirer again. Mark’s considerate like that.
For a moment you sit with the question, mindlessly spooning around your half eaten parfait. Were you scared? You knew full well you were bound to deal with the occasional creep when you decided to pursue camming as a full-time job after university.
But you weren’t— aren’t scared, initially you had maybe been a bit unnerved. Yet you hadn’t shared the messages because you wanted your friends to “save” you or anything. More so because you were shocked by the sheer audacity and of course by what was being said.
If Donghyuck wasn’t so busy talking about getting spit roasted much to the horror of Jungwoo, he’d be pestering you for the answer too. And you would’ve lied, told him that you were a little nervous but nothing that’d keep you from carrying on as usual.
Instead you have Mark asking, no trace of judgment behind his thick rimmed glasses, just a curious glint with a healthy dash of concern for a friend.
“He’s not.” Is what ends up coming out. It’s simpler than the whole truth, cleaner as well.
You couldn’t admit to one of your best friends that it sent a thrill down your spine, to have someone so obsessed they comment utter depravity on every post you make. That you’ve checked to make sure this mystery creep was watching your every stream. And that there’s nothing you’ve ever wanted more than to be craved so deeply, to be ached for, to be someone’s sole obsession.
“If you do get freaked out or anything, uh understandably so, we’ll figure something out. I’ll beat him up?” Mark offers one of his dorky smiles, and despite his statement inspiring little hope — seriously Mark is way too sweet to ‘beat’ anyone up — you still appreciate the sentiment. Offering him a big spoonful of whipped cream and strawberries for his valiant statement.
“Hey! Why does Mark get fed and I have to fight for a crumb?” Jungwoo cries out only causing you to roll your eyes and spark even more outrage from him.
You're thankful that the rest of the outing goes on without another mention of a certain fan of yours. Though Mark seems to be shooting more indiscernible looks your way than usual, but that’s easy to chalk down as him just projecting his own anxieties onto you.
When you all start to bid farewell Donghyuck wastes a few minutes to preach about the dangers of internet strangers, while Jungwoo goads and teases him until his nagging is turned onto Jungwoo.
Again Mark offers comfort — though you really have no need for it, considering the fact you honestly are enjoying the debased behavior more than you maybe should — and you pretend to appreciate it.
needa fuck you over and over and over
til your pretty lil pussy is gaping open
so i can see the way i paint you up inside
wouldn’t you like that?
Yes, you dig your teeth into your bottom lip, fuck yes.
You had just posted a teaser for your next video, a simple reaction to some random threesome video your subscribers had begged you to watch.
And as always without fail, only a few minutes after you’ve hit post your phone lights up with notifications from ‘66golden_boy99’. You should hate how much you look forward to it— how you’re practically gagging for it (him).
You remember his first thread of comments, remember the scandal that pumped through your veins as the words registered in your brain.
The thrill.
well aren’t you a sweet thing
He had started it off so normally.
you look like you dont care for just any kind of fun
you look like u need to be fucked within an inch of your life
thrown around and violated like a stupid little toy
i could do that
It’s the only time he hadn’t ended with a question. The only statement needed to stake his claim, to solidify his place.
It planted the seed right in your lust ridden mind, the growing need to see more and more. It becomes a sick little ritual, to go looking for his comments just after you tuck yourself into bed under the guise of resting for the day.
You’re desperate enough to reread old ones, to stare at the same comments from days or even weeks ago. Sometimes he’ll throw you a bone, coming back to leave another thread of comments for you to find.
wanna fill you up so bad
make you take it over and over and over
til my cum is dripping outta you for days
so that all that’s in your pretty head is the thought of my cock pumping you full
wanna make it happen?
Maybe it’s the way you’ve never replied to them, or even acknowledge them in a stream. It doesn’t deter him from continuing, his perverted dedication proving something to you. Something twisted and delicious and all too tempting.
need you so bad
just need to use you over and over and over and over so fuckin bad
turn you into my own pretty fleshlight to use whenever i please
just wanna use you all up baby
how much can you take?
Thursday streams are one of your three weekly streams, and while it had marginally less viewers therefore profit than your Friday and every other Saturday ones, it was by far your favorite.
The chat is far more relaxed, which means you have a better chance to interact with viewers, to have a more intimate stream.
It means you can instead sit at your desk, dressed in nothing but an oversized white tee, playing with your hair and batting your lashes. While making idle conversation as your viewers dutifully pay you compliments and donate small amounts as a hello.
66golden_boy99: hey there
“Oh? Golden boy? And here I was thinking you weren’t interested enough in having a live convo with me.” You wonder if he waited for this, a Thursday stream with an even lower than usual number of viewers to finally send his first message in chat. Was your little freak shy? Only able to sling his filth when nobody was paying attention?
Too late for that, he was in your sights now.
66golden_boy99: nah just liked sitting here and watching you too much
“Is that so?” You feign distraction, looking off towards the side as you tap your chin thoughtfully. “But here I am, doing nothing. Isn’t that boring?”
There’s a flood of no’s in the chat, messages ranging from horny to sweet about how some like just chatting and others saying that you should at least take off your shirt.
“My shirt? It’s only been twenty-ish minutes since I’ve started and you all don’t wanna butter me up first? Tell me how pretty I am?” You’re accused of being a tease, which is of course your exact angle. Some of them bite, sending cooing comments about how they’d love to see your shirt off, some going as far as to send in a few dollars.
$200 from 66golden_boy99
it’s okay sweetheart, show em what’ll be mine
Your jaw drops, because while he had tipped in the past, it was never this much. You can’t help the shiver that itches down your spine, ‘what’ll be mine’ he says, like he already has you in the bag.
“Aww you wanna see me that bad? Everyone say thank you to Golden Boy!” You goad, making a show of hooking your thumbs in the hem of your shirt. Slowly you drag the fabric across your flesh, inch by inch exposing how you truly had nothing under your flimsy excuse for clothing.
66golden_boy99: and where’s your thank you?
“That’s right, you were so generous after all, I should give you a little treat to show my appreciation.” Again you flutter your lashes. “How do you want me?”
66golden_boy99: spreading your legs like a desperate slut
66golden_boy99: wanna see you fuck your fingers
66golden_boy99: cmon babe show off your perfect pussy and open yourself up for me
“Anything for you.” And maybe you’re a little fucked in the head for how much you mean it.
You’ve never had a favorite before. Nobody in your chat, comments and so on have ever caught your attention. They’ve never bothered to be so interesting, to be so openly obsessed.
Slowly you let your hands wander, cupping your tits before letting your fingertips dance along your ribcage, inching down, down, down.
You pathetically think of him, wonder who’s on the other side of the screen. It could be some old man, or some greasy incel, maybe it’s someone you’ve met on the street. It could be anyone, and it sickens you almost as much as it excites you.
Carefully, you plant your feet on the edge of your desk, sliding down a few inches in your chair as you spread nice and wide for the camera.
“This what you want?” The words jumble in your mouth as your fingers continue to find their way south. You dig your nails into your thighs, moaning loudly at the bite of them into your tender skin.
Shame was something that had long escaped you in this field of work, only the tastefully faked sense of it ever gracing you these days. But there’s that all too familiar burn crawling back into your chest after almost years of nothing. Scorching away at your insides as your fingers drag along your waiting pussy.
You’re wet, you’re wet and it’s because of some fucking freak on the internet. Your eyes zero in on the chat, hoping to catch a comment from him.
66golden_boy99: fucking perfect for me always so good
It’s all you need to keep going, to let wanton moans tumble out left and right as your back arches into your own touch.
The sense of shame doesn’t diminish, doesn’t fade as you tease your clit and pump your fingers pitifully into your sopping cunt, loudly bemoaning the fact you didn’t grab a toy.
66golden_boy99: you’ll cum just like this baby, no toys, just your fingers and wishing it was me instead
“Nnn- please.” It’s whiner than you’ve ever heard yourself, because goddammit you are wishing it was him. Old man be damned he had a wicked way of speaking, of sneaking into the dark recesses of your mind and ripping you open. Exposing a side of you that you’d long since buried, a side of you craving to be devoured wholly.
Pleasure snakes through your body, dropping down into your belly as you cum with a whimper. You make a show of bringing your fingers to your lips, tongue flicking out to taste yourself, that sick part of you hoping it makes him want you more.
You slump against your chair, mindlessly answering chats as you fix yourself into a more comfortable position. You don’t bother looking for your shirt, letting your viewers enjoy watching your chest rise and fall in panting breaths, admire the way the sweat gleams on your skin.
You hope his eyes are glued to his screen. You hope you’re driving him absolutely insane.
“I fear I might be tapped out for the night, but don’t worry there’s always Sunday.” You manage to get out a real sentence, your brain still a little mushy from the post-orgasm haze. “Sweet dreams everyone!”
You take a moment to let the chat fill with well wishes, a few more donations and scan for a message from one user in particular.
66golden_boy99: good night sweet thing, dream of me
And oh, you just might.
Ending streams were nothing special, just a click of a button and your privacy was all yours again. Leaving you with a plethora of thoughts, a tiny remnant of that formerly elusive shame and a craving for something or more accurately someone.
Send a friend request to 66golden_boy99?
What did you have to lose? What did you have to gain?
There’s a little angel on your shoulder in the shape of Donghyuck, your ever annoying moral compass, telling you to go shower and to never feed into this anonymous man’s delusions again.
While the little devil on your shoulder shaped like Yuta does nothing, sits there and smirks at you knowing full well you’ll choose his route.
You always do.
Sorry Hyuck.
Friend request sent!
Three days go by, no comments, no messages on stream, nothing. Absolute silence.
You can’t help yourself but watch each excruciating second tick by, waiting for something, anything from him. Three whole days of obsessively checking your phone, every social media tied to your occupation and nothing.
It’s like he up and fucking forgot about you. And maybe three days seems too short of a timeline to be losing it, but this is a man who has been all over your account — and notifications — for months.
And he gets scared off by a friend request.
God, you should’ve known better than to trust Yuta, even if he was just a figment of your imagination at that moment. Though the real Yuta would’ve said the same thing anyway, therefore still making this whole ordeal his fault.
But as fun as blaming your friend and obsessing over whether your twisted little admirer would accept your request, let alone give you something to work with nowadays. It was driving you up the fucking wall.
You need a distraction, and you need it badly.
Your usual and immediate reaction to having nothing to do and needing attention would be to ask Donghyuck to go out and do something stupid, but the lucky bastard was on vacation with his boyfriend(s?) probably getting fucked into the new year.
So you’re left to consider your options but Jungwoo is definitely still at work and Yuta just left to visit his family. And your other friends lived too far.
That only left you with Mark. God, you need more friends in close proximity. Not because you don’t like Mark, you adore the man if anything and still consider him one of your best friends. It's just that despite all the years of friendship the two of you just haven’t figured out how to quite mesh conversationally like the others.
You need more spark, conviction. Mark Lee talks like a wet noodle came to life and decided to use ‘yo’, ‘dude’ and ‘woah’ on a permanent rotation.
At least he’s a great listener.
And since he’s one of your closest friends nonetheless, he would have no problem with you coming over to eat his snacks and lounge on his couch while he works from home.
So you shoot him a text.
TO: marky markmarkly sparkly can i cum over ;P
FROM: marky markHaha sure dude!
I told you stop spelling it like that > <
TO: marky markprude
be there in 10
want coffee ?
FROM: marky markSure!
Caramel latte please :3
He even texts like a good and innocent church boy. But he’s definitely had girlfriends, and that one boyfriend, so there’s no way he’s a virgin. Is it possible to be a blushing virgin in spirit and at heart?
“Hey beautiful, what can I get ya?” The barista’s stare is nothing short of sleazy, not even bothering to make eye contact as he tries to magically see through your clothing.
“I’ll take a caramel latte, lemme double check what my boyfriend wanted, hmm just a regular coffee.” And okay it’s a little demeaning to Mark to switch your coffee orders in front of this greaseball.
The boyfriend comment works well enough, if you take the guy opting to just stare at your ass as you walk out the door instead of bullying you for your number a win.
Thankfully Mark's apartment is just around the corner, and somehow you manage to key in the code not once but twice despite carrying two drinks.
“Marky! Coffee!” Immediately he comes tumbling down the hallway, eyes wide with confusion. His hair is sticking up in different directions, his glasses crooked and half-hanging off his face. His sweat stained white tee, and low hanging gray sweats only the cherry atop the homebody trainwreck sundae of a man before you.
“Hey, yo, shit! Uh dude!” He stops a few steps in front of you, scratching his head sheepishly. “I thought…you would take longer.”
“Do I look like Jungwoo? Or worse, Yuta?” You feign offense with a dramatic gasp.
“Nah! Ha…ha, um come on in, it’s a fuckin’ mess but like you know, ‘m swamped with work and…”
You hand him his latte and push past him, barely batting an eye at the nightmarish state of his apartment. There’s mountains of paperwork and books stacked along the walls, empty food boxes, bags and wrappers scattered across the floor (along with any other available surface) and you’re trying desperately to not gag at the state of his kitchen.
“Johnny would clean?” You muse as you kick aside an empty pasta box.
“Johnny would clean.” He sighs. Johnny, being Mark’s roommate, along with (one of) Donghyuck’s boyfriend(s???) is currently on vacation. On top of that, from what you've heard, he’s barely been at the apartment at all the past few months. Definitely too busy catering to every single one of Hyuck’s whims and dramatics.
“I could help?”
“Woah! I couldn’t ask you that, I made this mess on my own. I’ll clean it er.. eventually.” He gestures loosely.
“Mark Lee.” You muster up your best deadpan tone. “I’m so bored I’m gonna chew my own hand off, please let me help you clean your awfully disgusting apartment.”
“That bad?” He snorts.
“I think that pile of dust moved on it’s own.” At least you’re hoping it’s a pile of dust and not some undiscovered rodent that thrives in the apartments of bachelors with piss poor cleaning habits.
“…I think you’re right. Hey um, lemme just shower and change, I think I’m just as gross as this place. We can clean together. So just…” He shoves aside the pile of laundry inhabiting the couch just enough to give you a place to sit. “Sit for a second?”
The poor guy looks like he’s on the brink of a meltdown, and if you didn’t know Mark as well as you do you would’ve called an ambulance. But he just always has that air around him, exhausted and overworked— but always smiling through it.
“I’m in no rush.” You pat his arm before taking a seat in the space he so generously carved out for you. The second Mark walks off to the bathroom you make yourself nice and comfortable, switching on the TV, straightening out some of the magazines and assorted papers on the coffee table.
Mindlessly you even start folding some of the laundry next to you. The thought of taking pictures and sending them to Donghyuck so he could show Johnny just how far his roomie has fallen in his absence promptly interrupts your side task.
But to your dismay you find your phone is barely holding on by a few measly percentages. Looking around the living room you know there’s definitely no hope in trying to find a charger on your own. So instead you head off towards the bathroom, following the sound of the shower pouring down.
“Mark!” You knock harshly, hoping he can hear you okay.
“Yeah?” His voice comes through clear, sounding only a little startled by your sudden presence.
“Need to charge my phone!”
There’s a moment of pause and you can only assume it’s because his room is so hellish he can’t even remember where he put the thing.
“By my bed!”
“Thanks!”
His room is actually better than the living room and kitchen, not by much, but still better. You navigate around the clothes and books strewn about the floor. Giggling at his wastebasket full of balled up tissues and a used up bottle of lotion, you definitely couldn’t wait to tell Donghyuck when he gets back.
Making fun of Mark was an art, a beloved pastime of your friend group. And he always took it like a champ.
You plop down on his unmade bed, looking around for his charger. It’s half under the bed when you spot it, tugging the cord only for there to be a bit of resistance. Carefully you lower yourself to the floor, yanking at the charger and forcing Mark’s IPad to come flying at you.
“Shit!” It lands next to you face down on the hardwood and you pray to whatever gods that you haven’t cracked it. Slowly you pick it up, carefully flipping it over as you prepare yourself for the damage.
“Oh, my god.”
Because it’s not cracked, it’s not even locked, it’s still open to what Mark had been watching last to be exact.
One of your streams, one of your streams with you bent over one of your pillows, both holes stuffed with toys in the perfect position for the camera to see everything. It’s not even a new video, you haven’t done anything like that in months.
There’s a blur in your vision as you shoot up, lightheaded from standing up straight so suddenly. A scorching heat begins to burn in your gut, creeping through your veins.
You can still hear the shower going, and you know it must be wrong, to go through his private device like this but…it’s you. He’s been watching you, one of your most bible-thumping, prude-built friends who can barely look you in the eyes and blushes whenever you or your friends make dirty jokes, has been watching your debaucherous streams and has never said a word.
Sure, Yuta and Jungwoo have confessed to watching more than once and Donghyuck is a fucking mod for your streams. It never bothered you if your friends watched, it wouldn’t bother you now.
But this is…this is different. He kept his viewership a secret, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Was he too embarrassed to say? Was he afraid it’d ruin your friendship?
You close out the video, looking through his watch history which consists solely of your videos, looking at who he follows — you, only you, and you can’t tell if that’s a good thing yet — and now the used tissues in his trash bin don’t feel so funny anymore.
“Oh.” You mutter lamely as you open up his comment history. Fucking oh.
66golden_boy99: wanna fuck you with my tongue til youre squirting all over my face
And your world collapses, punctuated by the sound of the shower turning off— yet that’s lost on your ears. You can’t hear anything but the furious pound of your heart trying to dismantle your ribcage, your blood rushing through your veins and sloshing around your head.
Mark Lee, sweet, kind and innocent. Mark Lee, who stutters just talking about who he likes. Mark Lee, the resident saint of the group.
Is him.
The man who’s been peddling filth into your mind, who’s been haunting you every time you decide to start your stream or post a video, skulking around every comment section with your name on it.
Is Mark fucking Lee.
“Heya! Did ya find…it.” It’s cinematic honestly, the way his stride slows as his eyes frantically flicker back and forth between you and the IPad. “Y-Y-You!”
It’s instantaneous, his face turning a brilliant crimson as he trips over himself to grab the tablet and throw it haphazardly to the side.
His chest is heaving, panic creasing his features as you look him over. He kept the same color scheme, you think emptily, white tank top and gray basketball shorts. It does nothing for your brain as you stare at him mouth agape.
“I c-can explain?” He has the audacity to squeak, to look ashamed even. He’s trying to hide behind his bangs as they fall over his eyes, trying to look so innocent despite his filthy secret coming to light.
“Why didn’t you accept my friend request?” It’s probably not what you should open with, and Mark’s jaw simply hanging open at the question might be a testament to that.
“…What?” His croaks, voice hoarse.
“You didn’t accept it, why? And where have you been, it’s been three whole days? I’ve been fucking waiting for—”
“You’re not mad?” His voice is still uneven, and even a pitch higher.
“Mad? Mad? I’m pissed, you, you idiot!” And you are. Probably. Your mind so fucked from trying to comprehend this newfound piece of info you don’t even know where to begin with how you’re feeling. So mad must be the best place to start.
“For months I’ve been wondering who had the fucking balls to send these freaky borderline insane comments.” He flinches. “Wondering just who the hell was making me feel like, like…that.”
“I—”
“And it was you! Right under my nose, looking at me with those stupid round eyes and big glasses a-and you just pretended like you knew nothing? …I got off to you on stream?” You hate the way your voice sounds so high in your ears, teetering on the edge of full blown shrieking.
“Please, I’m sor…”
“When Hyuck showed those comments were you even ashamed?” You hiss.
He’s blubbering now, eyes pinned somewhere to the ground; half cooked sentences or maybe excuses scattering about the floor with the rest of his mess. It’s all lost on your ears, a million different thoughts in your head drowning it all out.
His hands raise as if admitting defeat, even beginning to back away in a pitiful attempt at escaping but like hell you’ll let the fool get away from you now.
“Goddammit, Mark Lee, look at me!” And he does, his mouth snapping shut and eyes focusing on you. His stupid glasses are nowhere to be seen, giving you an unfiltered front row view of how his pupils are blown wide. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean…what?” You could kill him, you really could because how after all these months of sending you towards the edge with the crudest, filthiest words he can barely say a proper sentence standing before you.
“Any of it! All of it, was it all just talk?” You must’ve hit a nerve. He’s silent again, eyes narrowing for a moment at the accusation. But it slips away, a fickle persona he shoves down.
His hands lower to his sides.
“...What do you want?” His voice is more even, eyebrows knitting together.
You know what he’s asking — he was obvious like that, his heart always worn so proudly on his sleeve — because even now with his disgusting secret out in the open between the two of you. He has the audacity to try to take the gentlemanly route of getting you to explicitly state what you want from him, if you want him.
When all you’ve been waiting for was for him to take.
“What do I want, huh? Let me tell you what I think first.” You know this will definitely make or break what happens next, and maybe even your friendship. But you’re sick of his games, of dancing around whatever the hell was going on between the two of you. “I think you’re all bark and no fucking bite, I think you hide behind a screen because you’re a coward and you probably couldn’t fuck your way out of a wet paper bag.”
His eyes narrow once more.
“You hide behind your good little god fearing boy next door persona when you’re a freak who likes watching one of his best friends get off on camera!”
He takes a step closer.
“I think you’re filthy and depraved, a repressed weirdo with disgusting kinks. A borderline incel!”
And another step.
“I bet the second you actually got inside of me you’d cum and cry yourself to sleep in a matter of seconds.” His expression darkens at that, and now you’re starting to think that you should stop.
But where’s the fun in that?
“You couldn’t handle even half the shit you said online, you cowardly little prude, you tiny dicked—”
You don’t realize his hands are on you until you're backed against the wall, one tightly gripping your hip while the other lands on your chest keeping you firmly in place.
“You never shut up. Even in your streams and videos you're constantly yammering on, whimpering and whining and begging.” His voice is low, buzzing around your ears and in your head. You look down at the tent forming in his shorts, mouth drying and watering simultaneously.
“That for me?” Your tongue feels thick as you look up at him through your lashes.
The hand on your chest inches up, until his palm settles against your throat and you're left wondering if he’ll indulge you by tightening his fingers. Even just a little.
“Even now, can’t shut the fuck up.” He moves in closer, until his hardened cock is against your thigh and he’s forcing his knee between yours. “I asked what you wanted, not for you to insult me.”
“You-”
“So I’ll tell you what I want.” And you feel so wildly out of your depth, there’s a cognitive dissonance you can’t quite escape. Good church boy Mark means wholesome activities, ice cream in the park, farmer’s markets and, and–
“And then you’re gonna try again for me.”
“M-Me?” It comes out lamely. Is this really Mark Lee? You think belatedly. Looking at you like he wants to tear you apart inch by inch with nothing but his teeth and tongue.
“I want you on my tongue, on my cock, want you begging for me to stop but it’s all just a filthy fucking lie. I want you to want me to ruin you, this, us.” His voice is raspier, laced with a desperation and craving you’ve never heard before and damn do you need to hear more, so much more.
“So try again. Tell me what you want.” And you can see it, that plea in his eyes for you to just say it. To know you want this as badly as he does, the promise, the threat of him finally letting go looming over the two of you.
“Want.” You grab him by the face, pressing your nose against his and staring into the black depths of his pupils. “Want good boy Mark Lee to die right before my eyes, wan’ you to eat me ‘til nothin’ is left.”
It’s slurred, you’re delirious, so drunk off the way he’s already hard off of you screaming at him (or maybe it was getting caught), at the way he’s demanding you to express your want for him when you’d rather just be on your knees.
But the thing is you always have wanted, craved. That underlying itch to see one of your best friends let loose, the borderline wanting (what you thought was) a random stranger to break into your apartment and do filthy, unmentionable things to you. When you flipped over that IPad thinking you broke it to find yourself being the object of his debauched desire, when you saw his username on the site.
You ached.
It’s stupid and toeing the line of embarrassing with how badly you want, no, need him, how turned on by the fact he doesn’t even know which person to be in front of you. Doesn’t quite know how to be both.
“Let him die.” Is all he can say, having the audacity to take advantage of your stupor to kiss you. To push you back up against the wall and slot his lips against yours, pulling back just to dive back in before you could truly feel his absence. Over and over each one messier, hotter than the last as a debaucherous hunger flows between the two of you.
“You don’t get it.” He mumbles, pressing himself firmly against you, sweat starting to prickle against your skin. “When y-you started camming I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
And suddenly you could see it, vividly. Just behind your eyelids was Mark hunched over in his bed, one of your streams or videos playing in the background as he furiously chased his release. Only to be left wallowing in the shame of jerking it with cheap lotion to you, forced to clean himself off with even cheaper tissues and spending the rest of his night completely alone.
“Your perfect fucking pussy, for everyone to see…when I’ve been waiting.” He rasps, hands finding their way back onto your body. “Couldn’t stand it, couldn’t fuckin’ stand it.”
“Mm, Ma-ark…” Without hesitation he twists his head, allowing himself to sink his teeth at the base of your throat. Pulling away to focus another dark look at you, that heady mixture of unmitigated want and wicked promises swirling in his eyes.
“S’All I could think about, even with our friends.” He noses along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe as his breathing turns ragged. “Wanted to haul you onto the table and fuck you ‘til your head went dumb, ‘til all was left was you squealing like a fuckin’ whore while they all watched.”
There’s a cartoon halo of stars around your head, surely there is, each word from his mouth adding another to the ditzy constellation circling your brain. This is him, this is Mark ‘Golden Boy’ Lee and his once hidden (and so deliciously unhinged) silver tongue.
“Pl-Please, oh fu— please.” His lips are back to working against your throat, and just as you try to reach up and grab at him, to try and sway him into relieving some of the tension building in the air.
He steps back, yanking at your arm.
Yet he doesn’t give you a chance to simply fall, or even react. Instead he uses your off-kilter balance to push you onto your knees, thankful that he’s a sloppy loser when you land on a pile of clothes.
“This.” He doesn’t bother being shy about tugging his shorts and boxers off in one fluid motion. “This is how I want you.”
He pauses, as if to let you admire the view and you’re not nearly above doing so as your eyes roam so shamelessly.
Of course he’s cut, with neatly trimmed hair adorning his groin. And though he's just above average in length, he definitely makes up in girth. You think hazily that calling him tiny dicked was definitely a lie.
Your mouth waters.
He lets out a low chuckle of all things, surely laughing at the way your eyes have widened. And maybe you did let your tongue swipe over your lips in anticipation.
“Go ahead, before I make it hurt.” His words are delayed, understanding creeping in slowly; impaired by having long let that fog of desperation cloud your mind.
You move before you can think, nosing along the side of his cock, pressing a kiss to a cute little mole that you hope to revisit at a later date. But for now you’re flattening your tongue against the base of his shaft and dragging it up his length at a frustrating rate.
He’s heavy on your tongue, thick and heavy and so so hot, and fuck he tastes good or maybe you’re just already addicted. Doomed from the start.
There’s a war raging in your mind, whether to try your hardest to please him with your mouth, all too tempted to hear the pretty, desperate sounds he’ll make and maybe it’ll earn you a bit of praise. Or to tease until he’s pissed off enough to throw any regard for you and your (throat’s) wellbeing out the window.
The latter is far more appealing.
Coyly you look up at him again through your lashes once more, bringing your tongue to tease at the tip of his cock, licking off a bead of precum forming.
“Are you tryin’ to blow me or piss me off?” Ah, so he has you all figured out.
“Haven’t decided.” You reply properly by taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before sinking further down and ignoring the slightly uncomfortable stretch of your lips. You could get used to this.
Languidly you try to mind your teeth as you sink further down, your jaw aching at the unprecedented stretch. Shallowly you bob your head, barely giving anything as you look up to meet his burning gaze.
“Enough.” He groans, clearly sick of the teasing as his hand comes around to hook his fingers around the back of your head.
It’s enough of a warning as your hands come up to grip at his bare thighs, whimpering at the first tentative thrust. Unable to escape, knees aching and you can’t help but wonder how damp your panties will be by the time you get them off.
He’s careful at first, not to be too rough in his movements, trying to be considerate of your comfort. It’s ridiculous, and you let him know as much by stabbing your nails into his thighs only forcing him to accidentally bottom out.
Tears well in your eyes as you choke, gagging around the sinfully thick intrusion into your throat.
“Woah! Fuck, I’m sor-”
He starts to pull away, and desperately you chase after him. But the fucker pulls out, grabbing you by the cheeks to look you in the eyes.
“Do I have to start calling you names again?” Your voice is already wrecked, but not nearly enough, it could be worse, so much worse. If he would just fully let go. “Or are you just scared?”
He blinks at you, once, twice, those stupidly big eyes of his narrowing into something dangerous.
“Two taps if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be.” You barely finish the sentence as he grabs you on either side of your head with both hands, pressing the leaking head of his cock against the seam of your lips, precum smearing across. You barely open your mouth before he’s shoving his entire cock down your throat again.
You can see him, blurred by the tears stuck to your lashes, watching you with such reverence as you pitifully try to relax, still unable to avoid gagging and choking. Yet this time he offers no reprieve, keeps you firmly in place as tears stream down your face and your nails continue to dig into his thighs.
“T-That’s it, choke.” The break in his voice sends something hot through your chest, snaking through the rest of your body and creeping into your veins. How embarrassed would you really be if you came just from having your throat fucked?
“Where are you?” Your wandering thoughts immediately cease, drawn back in by his fingers dancing along your cheekbone before settling at the back of your head.
He doesn’t even have the decency to let you catch your breath after pulling your attention, shallow thrusts turning reckless as he fucks your face with little regard for you— it’s everything you’ve every wanted from him.
It sends another surge of heat down into your belly, pooling between your thighs and now you’re wondering if your poor panties will even be salvageable after this.
“Fuck that’s it, so fuckin’ good for me.” He bites his lip, and a part of you wishes you could be tugging on it too with your teeth.
Use me, use me, use me. The thought fills your mind, leaving room for nothing else but Mark and his cock and your jaw and throat struggling to keep up.
Frantically you tap on his calf, his response instantaneous.
“You good?” He pulls out again, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip to wipe away a mess of spit and precum.
“Need you,” and you could care less how your voice shakes and rasps, “need you in me so bad. Fuck me.”
Your fingers dig into his thighs as you muster up the best pitiful look possible, silently begging for more.
“C-Condom, need, condom.” He huffs, looking around his room frantically.
“Like hell, what happened to painting my insides huh?” Shakily you stand up, managing to push him towards the bed which he doesn’t even bother resisting. “Thought you wanted your cum dripping from my pussy for days.”
And he fucking growls, the sound so wildly animalistic you can barely believe it came from him.
“That what you want? You wanna feel me for days?” You’re on your back in a matter of seconds, his forearms landing on either side of your head to cage you in. He’s staring you down with an uncharacteristic intensity; a predator sizing up his prey.
“Ruin me for anybody else.” It comes out broken, desperation seeping from each word. How much more do you need to bend before he finally breaks?
He’s back on you, a barrage of teeth and tongue assaulting your flesh as his hands leave no part of you untouched, kneading and feeling. Just as you try to bring your own shirt over your head he pushes away your hands, allowing him to take over stripping you bare.
Each caress of his fingers leaves a trail of fire, almost too hot to bear.
“Please Marky, please.” It comes out high and whiny and so very needy. “Touch me more.”
“I’ll give you what you want, just lemme…fuck lemme look at you.” He catches your wrists just as you try to bring your hands up to cover your face, pinning your arms against your sides as his eye shamelessly trace over your figure. There’s a glint of something hungry, swirled with something akin to adoration.
“Y-You like m-me, you’re obsessed.” You
“Yeah, I really fucking am.” He’s grinning, all teeth with a hint of gums that makes your heart somehow pound even harder and you know you’re well and truly fucked. “Like you s’much gonna keep you on my cock forever.”
He lets go of your hands, grabbing at your thighs to spread them apart, callused fingers dragging up until he’s almost carelessly pressing a finger into you.
“Fuck, you can… o-oh keep me!” You whimper as he bullies one, then two more fingers into your throbbing cunt— there’s a determination bordering on desperation creasing his brow in order to prep you as quickly as possible.
“Next time, I’ll spend fuckin’ hours doin’ this.” You whine as he drags his fingers out of you.
His hands hook under your thighs, pressing up and up until he can hook your legs over his shoulders and he’s pressing the blunt head of his cock against your hole. There’s a slight sting as he pushes in, the stretch unfamiliar and despite how wet you are some lube would’ve helped.
But you well and truly could care less.
“I don’t care who sees this, you, I’m the only one who gets to touch, the only one who gets to fuck you like this.” He rasps, bottoming out in one harsh thrust and punching the air out of your lungs.
He’s kind enough to let you catch your breath, indulging you with a few soft kisses along your jaw and nipping at your bottom lip. But it doesn’t last long, following a sloppy kiss with a tentative grind of his hips, then a soft thrust.
Those desperate whines you usually play up for your streams easily escaping your lips as he builds a steady rhythm.
“Yes, yes, yes, Mark.” It’s perfect, every single thrust is perfect, the way you're folded in half, the feeling of his fingers digging into you, the strain of toned muscles under flushed skin; so fucking perfect. “Only you.”
And you mean it, fully, wholeheartedly without any hesitation. Only Mark, if that’s what he wants then you want it too, whatever Mark wants he can have.
“M’Close, fuck, I’m so close.” You whimper, raking your fingers through his still damp hair.
“Already?” It spears through your chest, harsh and burning and tears down your belly.
There’s a split second of perfect silence interrupting the sound of skin slapping against skin, a ringing in your ears followed by the crash of your heart into your ribcage.
Pleasure slices down your spine, rippling through your body in crashing waves and leaving your head spinning.
He fucks you through the high, any chance of a coherent thought spilling right out of your ears, his name garbled and strained as it forces it’s way past your lips.
He slows, as if he’s about to waste both your time and do something stupid like pull out and finish on your stomach. And like hell you’re letting that happen, grabbing at his head with both hands and smashing your lips together, pulling away just enough to stare into blown pupils.
“Cum inside me, you bitch!” His teeth come down on your bottom lip, the bite of iron and tang of sweat and spit swirling together on your tongue dizzying, intoxicating. He slams back into you with a force you didn’t know he had, swallowing down a broken moan from his lips as he spills into you.
“I’m still gonna stream.” The two of you have settled on his now made bed, tucked under the covers. You had no problem letting Mark dress you in a clean tee and boxers, watching sleepily from his desk chair as he made his bed before depositing you in it.
“I’ll still watch.” He hums.
“And comment?” It brings up the matter from earlier, the one you never got an answer to. “Why didn’t you?”
“I…I didn’t know what to do. Uh, it was one thing, hiding, but then I thought you…didn’t…”
“Didn’t?” You raise your head, trying to level your gaze to his.
“Didn’t like m- it, the comments, those messages in chat, all of it. Thought you were just tryin’ to message me to stop. And then I got scared you somehow knew it was…me.” He has that sheepish look smearing his features, a hand coming up to scratch at his nape.
You stare at him silently, watching as his eyes bounce around your face searching for some hint of what you could possibly be thinking.
“Look where that got us, I can’t even feel my legs, oh my god you have to fuck me on stream, please!”
“H-Huh? Live? Yo I can’t just-”
“Think about it, Marky.” Aching hips and sore muscles be damned, you somehow manage to climb into his lap and straddle his thighs. “Fucking me, on camera, for everyone to see just what you do to me. I’d be so good for you.”
You can see it, what little resolve he had starting to crumble, just a little more.
“Don’t you want that?” It’s his words and he knows it, starting to see the monster he’s created. You run your fingers along his jaw, settling one hand on his shoulder while the other comes up to muss up fluffy brown locks. “Stretching me on your fat cock for my pitiful little viewers to see, wishing it was them driving me insane.”
“Baby…” The pet name from his lips is instantly addicting, and you need so much more of it.
“Please.” And now you’re not sure what you’re begging for, your body screams for you to stop, to not roll your hips against his because it’s far too soon to be fucked into the mattress again.
“If, if you don’t stop doing that.” He groans. “You’re not gonna be able to stream tomorrow.”
You blink.
“Wow you really are my biggest fan.”
“Huh?”
“Got my schedule memorized and everything, does that mean we could do it tomorrow? You’ll fuck me on stream tomorrow?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Seriously I–”
“Actually, cancel it.” He’s hooking his hands under your thighs, drawing you closer. “Don’t look at me like that, I said cancel it.”
“Mm, I don’t know if I can go again yet.” But there’s no conviction behind your words.
“You’re fine, I’ll do all the work.” You’re fine he says, it sends a thrill up your spine right into your brain, reworking the entire chemistry in there. It had been there in the back of your mind, slipping in somewhere between finding out his secret and that first kiss.
You’re absolutely hooked, simply addicted, to Mark Lee.
please make sure you log into your twt on the browser or it’ll show up as the tweet doesn’t exist <3 some links also may break over time due to account or videos being deleted/removed !!
mark jerks off to his best friend’s voice during a late-night call.
❛ content 1.7k words, 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, male reader, best friend! mark, phone sex (mark’s side), voice kink, masturbation, reader is oblivious at first.
━━━ ( part two )
mark’s hand was already slick.
it was shameful — he knew that — but by now, the thrill of shame was a part of the arousal.
mark sat hunched in bed, legs spread wide, phone pressed to one ear, breath shallow and uneven. the room was dim. just the soft blue glow of his laptop screen lighting his face, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile, bare thighs tense and trembling.
the call had barely even rung when you picked up, voice soft and just a little rough like you’d been napping.
“hey,” you said. “what’s up?”
mark’s stomach turned over. the second he heard your voice, his grip tightened, his rhythm stumbling on instinct. he sucked in a breath through his teeth.
“yo,” he rasped. his voice cracked. “you, uh… you busy?”
“nah. im just watching dumb videos. you okay? you sound weird.”
weird. yeah. that was one word for it.
he leaned forward a little, curling into himself, phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder while his other hand kept working over his cock. he was flushed to the neck, chest mottled with heat, pulse visible in his throat.
every time he heard your voice through the speaker, it was like a jolt right to his cock — he could feel the way your mouth moved, imagine how your lips would wrap around syllables if he were just a bit closer.
he bit his bottom lip, hard.
“i’m fine,” he said quickly, too quickly, then swallowed. “just… wanted to talk to you.”
he was already so close and that was humiliating in its own right.
your voice was casual, kind. “oh, yeah? what about?”
mark gritted his teeth, hips twitching upward into his palm. “i… i dunno. just missed your voice.”
a pause. you laughed softly.
“that’s weird. you literally saw me earlier today.”
“i know.”
mark closed his eyes, pressing the heel of his palm against the base of his cock to try and slow himself down. it didn’t help. he was throbbing. leaking. his stomach muscles clenched tight every time you said anything.
“but… i like hearing you.”
you went quiet for a beat. “you sure you’re okay? you sound kinda…”
“i’m fine,” mark said again, but his voice broke in the middle of it, strained and raspy, like he was talking through gritted teeth.
he had to pull the phone back a little as a soft, stuttered moan slipped out of him.
shit.
his hand kept moving — too fast now, driven by pure instinct. he tried to breathe slow, tried to pretend he wasn’t literally jerking off with your voice in his ear, but you weren’t helping.
you chuckled again. “you sound like you’re sweating or something. hot in your room?”
“y-yeah,” mark gasped, closing his fist tighter. “hot. so, so hot.”
his knuckles were turning white around the phone. he pressed it harder to his ear, needing to hear every note of your voice. his eyes fluttered shut, head falling back against the wall behind his bed. sweat was already gathering under his arms, on his lower back, on the backs of his thighs. jus toes curled into the sheets, ankles twitching with every slick stroke of his hand.
you kept talking. talking like everything was normal. like your best friend wasn’t secretly jerking off to your voice and biting his fist to keep from moaning into the receiver.
“you been staying up late again?” you asked. “you really sound tired.”
mark choked on a sound that wasn’t a laugh, wasn’t a sob, wasn’t quite a moan.
“mmh—yeah. c-can’t sleep…”
“you should take melatonin or something. or stop watching porn at 3am.”
if only you knew.
mark was panting now, trying to keep it quiet, but every breath was a tremor. his thighs shook with tension, every muscle in his body drawn tight like a bowstring. he sped up again without meaning to, his body begging for release. it wasn’t just the friction. it was you — your voice, your laugh, the way you sounded like you were half-asleep and smiling through every word.
and fuck, he wanted you to hear. even if it ruined everything.
“hey,” you said again, more curious now. “you really okay? you sound like you’re—”
“i’m f—fuck,” mark hissed through his teeth, a broken sound slipping out before he could stop it.
his back arched. he turned his face into the pillow beside him and bit down, hard. his whole body jerked with need.
“s-sorry, sorry—”
you blinked on the other end. “mark… are you… are you sick or something?”
“n-no,” mark whimpered, voice cracking again.
his chest was heaving, cock twitching wildly in his hand now. the wet slick noises of it were starting to get louder — he was so close it hurt.
“just… ngh—just don’t stop talking. please.”
you paused, clearly confused.
“mark, you sure you’re okay? your voice sounds—like you’re in pain or something. you’re not crying, right?”
he almost was.
“no—n-not crying. j-just…”
his fingers slipped, the slick glide of his palm stuttering for a second. he couldn’t do this much longer. every syllable you said was like fuel thrown on the fire. his entire body was one big live wire, and all it would take was one more second of your voice, soft and unknowing in his ear, and he’d—
“oh fuck—fuckfuck—ah—” he gasped suddenly, louder than he meant to.
he couldn’t stop it. his hips jerked up off the bed, his legs kicked once, hard, heel catching on the sheet.
“shit—”
“mark?”
bit it was too late.
he came with a guttural noise halfway between a gasp and a whimper, hand still pumping as thick heat spilled across his abs, wrist, stomach. his thighs were trembling, whole body shaking, the pleasure rolling over him in uncontrollable, stuttering waves. he clenched the phone so tight it creaked in his palm.
your voice cut through the haze.
“…wait. are you—holy shit. were you jerking off?”
mark froze. his face was bright red, chest heaving, jaw slack as the last pulses of pleasure shook through him.
he didn’t answer. he couldn’t.
the silence stretched — the only thing in his room now was the sound of him breathing. hard and shallow. still a little shaky, his hand still cupped over the base of his cock, half-hard and twitching against his sticky palm.
the mess was cooling on his stomach, and he was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating somewhere between orgasm and panic.
“…mark?”
you sounded different now. not angry. not teasing. just… surprised. confused. and a little quieter. your voice had dropped half a note, softer in a way that made his throat close. mark swallowed.
his voice cracked when he finally said it :
“y-yeah.”
one word. barely more than a whisper.
he shifted in bed, feeling how damp the sheets were under his thighs, how raw his skin felt, sensitive to the air now. still holding the phone, mark let out a low, shaky breath and forced himself to speak again.
“i was. i… i was jerking off.”
silence.
god, he wanted to disappear. the shame was burning. he shut his eyes and dragged a hand down his face, fingers shaking slightly. his cock gave a small, involuntary twitch in his hand even now. he should’ve hung up. should’ve made up some lie. should’ve said anything else.
instead, he added : “i couldn’t stop thinking about your voice. it—fuck, it made it worse. better. i don’t know. i just—needed it.”
there was a pause on the other end. but this one felt different.
“…damn,” you finally said.
the word came out low, cautious.
mark’s breath caught. he squeezed his eyes shut.
“you’re mad,” he mumbled, voice hoarse. “i get it, i’m—fucked up, i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have called—”
“no,” you cut in fast. “no, i’m not mad.”
mark blinked. “you’re… not?”
“i mean…” you hesitated. “that’s kinda… hot.”
mark sat up straighter, heart kicking into a full sprint again. “what?”
your voice was a little different now. lower. a little breathy. “you really called me… while you were doing that?”
mark nodded before realizing you couldn’t see it.
“y-yeah.”
he was still hard. somehow. his body didn’t know how to stop with you still on the phone, your voice suddenly filled with something heavier. curiosity? tension? hunger? whatever it was, it sparked like a live wire right in his chest.
“you… wanted to hear me that bad?” you asked.
and mark could picture the look on your face now — confused, pink-cheeked, maybe biting your lip the way you always did when you were trying to process something fast.
“i did,” mark whispered. “i wanted to imagine you in my ear. i already was. but when i actually heard you… i couldn’t stop. you sounded so warm. like—like you were laying next to me.”
“shit,” you mutter, your breath hitched now. “that’s…”
mark gripped the phone tighter. “what?”
“kind of really hot,” you admitted. “like, weirdly hot.”
something inside mark broke open at that.
his hand reflexively slid down over his cock again — not stroking yet, but holding it, grounding himself in sensation, in your voice and the feeling of still being on the edge, desperate for more. his stomach clenched, hips shifting under the blankets.
“are you…” he tried. “turned on right now?”
a soft exhale from you bedore you anwser.
“yeah.”
the sound mark made wasn’t even a word. just a needy gasp, like he’d been underwater and your answer let him breathe again. he rolled his hips forward a little into his palm, dragging his fingers lightly over the head of his cock. still sensitive. almost unbearable.
“can i come over?” you asked.
mark’s breath hitched. the thought was overwhelming, making his cock twitch even more.
“yes,” he said immediately, too fast, too eager. his voice cracked on it, raw and wet with want. “yes, please—fuck, i want you to.”
there was a pause — not hesitation, but heat. you were quiet for a second, and he could hear you shifting on the other end, probably sitting up now, heart racing like his.
as an idol, dating is complex. heeseung knows that, yet he dated you anyway. but the rules he keeps for you are strict: if you see him out in public? you dont know him, keep it silent.
or, in which you are dating lee heeseung, a popular idol. but you're struggling to cope with the fact that your relationship has to be secret. yet, he always manages to make it up to you.
idol!이희승 x f!reader ⛶ smut make up sex unprotected p in v (wrap it up) marking spanking anal (?) petnames (baby, sweetheart) praise emotional manipulation hes lowkey a masochist lmk if more ENHYPENIS7 (👀) dada come back
notes ts so ass but its for my babeh yuni @4jwon i am so sorry i cant write dirty talk for my life
drabble wc: 974
heeseung was a good boyfriend, he really is. but you feel neglected with him. sure, his schedule is packed, you understand. as an idol, he has concerts, tours, fanmeets and fancalls. It isn't new to you that he barely has time for you.
but this might be the final straw.
its your birthday. your birthday. he had promised time and time again to be there for this special day. he reassured you through calls and text messages. now you’re in your apartment with friends. and he still wasn't here.
the nagging pit in your stomach grew. you check your phone, no happy birthday message. you open his contact, walk into the bathroom and call him.
“hi, baby,” his voice comes out from the other end, “whats up?” whats up? you wanted to yell at this motherfucker for being able to sound so unbothered while you're over here wondering if he even likes you.
"its my birthday today! i mean- i get you're busy, but not even a fucking message?" you rant into the phone screen, voice rising with every word, "do you even love me or something?"
you hear the bastard laugh, "yn," he coos, "of course i didn't forget. i'm coming to visit next week."
"really?" you almost feel a flicker of hope, and he hums in response, "mhm."
then he hangs up.
oh, and, everything he just said was a complete lie.
not only did he completely forget your birthday, he also hadn't even thought of visiting. and to add onto that, you sounded like you were finally done with his shit.
so, in an effort to keep you with him, he bought a quick flight to where u were and cancelled everything else on his schedule.
but don't worry, you can always trust him on making it up to you. always.
-
heeseung showed up to your door unannounced, dressed casually, no gifts or bags in his hands as if his prescence was the gift itself. the moment you opened the door, he stepped in like he owned the place.
"hi," he said casually, and you fought the urge to grit your teeth, "sorry about, well, everything. but i'm here now, no?"
yeah, he was most definitely the world's greatest boyfriend.
"yeah, you're here now," you bit out, crossing your arms and plopping down on the couch, glaring up at him. he frowns and sits down next to you, so close that your thighs were touching, "come on, don't be like that."
you scoff, looking away from him, "how could i not? you literally forgot my birthday," he gently grabs your chin, slowly tilting your head to look at him, "baby, i said i'm sorry, isn't that enough?"
god help him, but you just looked so damn adorable when your mad. the way your lips jutted out into a cute little pout, the way your eyebrows furrowed and the way you just frowned was enough to get him going.
"you're so fucking egotisical," you hissed, looking away from him and rolling your eyes. fuck, he's dying to see your eyes roll, but in a completely different context.
"look, i've got just the way to make you feel better, eh?"
-
said way was fucking you into the mattress.
you were bent over the bed's edge as heeseung drived into you from behind, the sight of his thick girth disappearing in and out of your greedy cunt was driving him insane.
and those noises you made? he was sure that he can cum just from hearing you whine like that.
despite him filling you to the brim, a slight bulge showing up in your lower belly whenever he slams back into you with a lewd slap of skin on skin, he wasn't sure if you're quite full enough.
with his free hand, he gives your full ass a sharp smack, making you cry out into the pillow that your face was shoved into, and he spreads your cheeks apart.
the moment he sees the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, thrusts hard enough to make it feel like the room was shaking.
he inserts his thumb into your rear end, making you feel impossibly fuller.
"fuucckkk," he moans, hips moving erratically. the sound of the headboard hitting the concrete wall of your bedroom was moving rhythmically with the slap of skin on skin.
his other hand goes from your hip to tangle in your hair, and he presses more firmly against you to hold you in place.
when he pulls at your hair, making you arch your back and look up at him, he lost it right there. this. his world narrowed down to this.
a clear string of drool connected your lips together, and tears were streaming down your pretty face. poor baby.
"hee..." you whine out, trying to grind back against his cock. he grins down at you, "yeah, baby, i know. you were feeling so neglected... fuck, im so sorry," he lets out a groan.
"come onnn," he drawls, putting double the effort into his sloppy thrusts, "let go for me sweetheart, come allll over this dick, yeah?"
you let out a desperate little whine before that knot in your lower belly finally snaps, "oh, fuck!" you moan, your orgasm crashing over you. he fucks you through it, leaning down to groan out dirty praise.
and when he comes, he collapses on top of you. his arms snake around your waist as he flips you two over. his cock, still buried to the hilt inside you, softens as his breath comes in deep exhales.
"see?" his lips curl into a smug and infuriatingly cute smirk, "said i'd make it up to you. happy late birthday," he nuzzles into your neck, peppering the skin with soft kisses.
Pairing: Husband Doctor!Jaehyun x Wife CEO!Reader | Single dad! Jaehyun
Preview: Jaehyun hated her. Why does he need a wife when he's happy with his daughter? Another nuisance, just like his first wife. And she hated everything about him. But they clearly can't stay away.
Genre: Arranged marriage, Slow Burn, Single dad! Jaehyun | Enemies to Lovers | Humor | Domestic | Smut, Tension
Word Count: ~9.3k
___________________________________________
PART 1: THE MARRIAGE THAT LOOKED GOOD ON PAPER
Your lawyer had said it was a “mutually beneficial merger.”
You said nothing, mostly because you were too busy fixing your lipstick before the press conference that announced your arranged marriage to Seoul’s most annoyingly attractive surgeon—Dr. Jeong Jaehyun.
He, on the other hand, stood beside you like you were a mild inconvenience. Like he had better places to be—like an OR table or a luxury car headed away from this mess.
“Smile,” you hissed through your teeth as cameras clicked.
“I am,” he replied, deadpan.
You glanced sideways. “You look dead.”
He looked back. “That’s still a smile compared to you.”
The flashbulbs exploded. You two were golden. On paper, of course.
The marriage was arranged for reasons that made sense to your board of directors and his hospital’s board of trustees. Power couple image. Medical research grants. Business sponsorships. Tax benefits.
You? You were Seoul’s youngest and most intimidating CEO, known for firing underperformers in stilettos. You didn’t need a husband.
He? He was a brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon with a God-complex, a tendency to ghost family events, and a four-year-old daughter named Jiyeon who looked like a doll and talked like a drill sergeant.
The man was cold. Distant. But unfortunately, stupidly good-looking. Which made it worse.
The wedding was private, clinical. A few papers signed. A few photos taken. Your designer dress was stunning, and so was his smug silence.
The next day, you moved into the penthouse apartment you were now legally required to share.
You saw the child before you saw him.
Jiyeon sat at the kitchen island, eating Cheerios from a pink bowl.
She looked up at you with big round eyes and said, “You’re the lady who married my Dad. ”
You blinked. “Yes.”
She nodded like a CEO. “Okay. I’m not allowed to watch horror movies. I like strawberries. And don’t touch Mr. Bubbles.”
“Mr. Bubbles?”
“My bear” she said, pointing to a stuffed animal on the counter.
Right then, Jaehyun walked in—hair messy from post-call exhaustion, in scrubs, rubbing his eyes.
He looked at you like the flu.
You looked back like antibiotics.
“Morning,” he said, voice gravelly.
“Afternoon,” you corrected. “It’s 2 p.m.”
He gave a faint smirk. “You really don’t know how to rest, do you?”
You ignored him, turned to Jiyeon. “I brought you strawberry jam.”
She grinned. “Okay, nevermimd I like you now"
At work, you crushed negotiations and led meetings like a queen. At home, your mornings began with accidental run-ins and arguments about kitchen cabinets.
He liked silence. You liked music.
He liked Jiyeon’s toys in one corner. You let her play wherever she wanted.
He liked routine. You liked control.
You both hated each other.
But Jiyeon?
She made it hard to stay angry.
One night, you came home late from a board dinner, heels in hand, headache pounding—and found her asleep in your bed, Mr. Bubbles’ tucked beside her.
A sticky note on your pillow read:
“You looked sad this morning. I saved you a place. — Jiyeon”
You didn’t cry.
You just laid down beside her and let her tiny hand wrap around your finger.
And somewhere around night fourteen, Jaehyun came home early, leaned against the kitchen counter while you reheated soup.
“You work too late,” he muttered.
“You don’t say much.”
Silence.
Then he added, “She likes you.”
You turned, surprised. “She’s easy to like.”
He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze unreadable.
“She didn’t like my ex.”
You blinked. “Was she her mother?”
A long pause.
“No. Her mother left before Jiyeon turned two.”
A strange ache stirred in your chest.
And that was the first time Jaehyun ever told you something personal.
No sarcasm. No sharp wit. Just the truth.
Later that night, you passed each other in the hallway.
He didn’t say anything.
But his hand brushed yours.
And he didn’t pull away.
PART 2: TENSION BETWEEN WALLS
You’d thought it was easier—pretending.
Pretending the apartment wasn’t too quiet. That you didn’t hear Jiyeon’s tiny feet running to greet him. That your heart didn’t shift, uninvited, at the sight of Jaehyun brushing her hair back like he’d done it a thousand times.
You weren’t looking for softness.
But somehow, it kept slipping through the cracks he never meant to open.
He came home late that Tuesday.
Jiyeon was asleep on the couch, curled up with Mr Bubbles. You were in the kitchen, pacing, still wearing your pencil skirt, blazer flung over a chair.
Jaehyun entered silently, a gym bag over one shoulder, shirt clinging damp to his skin from a post-op workout.
You stared at him. “You forgot to text.”
He blinked. “Didn’t know I had to.”
“You didn’t. But Jiyeon waited by the door for two hours.”
That silenced him.
He exhaled, dropped the bag, and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice quieter than you expected. “There was a code blue. I couldn’t leave.”
Your jaw locked, arms crossed. “I’m not asking for explanations. I’m just—”
“Worried?” he cut in, gaze sharpening. “Or mad because it disrupted your schedule?”
You bit your cheek. “Do you always push away people who care?”
He didn’t answer.
Just looked at you.
And for a second, neither of you breathed.
The tension in the room pulsed like a heartbeat. You could see it in his eyes—that restrained edge, that wall he kept up even when he wasn’t trying to.
Then he said, “She listens to you more than me.”
You blinked. “She’s four. She likes strawberry jam and picture books. That doesn’t make me her mother.”
“No,” he agreed. “But she smiles when you come home.”
Your heart stuttered. “That’s not love.”
“No,” he murmured. “But it’s the beginning of something.”
The next night, you found him asleep on the couch, Jiyeon curled against his chest. His arm wrapped protectively around her, lips parted slightly, brow relaxed. It was the only time he ever looked peaceful.
You brought him a blanket.
You didn’t wake him.
You just stood there for too long—watching the man who was supposed to be your husband feel like the stranger you were starting to understand.
At breakfast, he poured your coffee without asking.
“You drink it black,” he said, not looking up.
You stared. “How did you—?”
“You mutter in the mornings.”
You blinked again, flustered.
He finally looked at you, and it wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t guarded. It was… warm.
You looked away.
This wasn’t in the plan.
PART 3: FRACTURES AND FLAME
The event was meant to be formal—clinical, even.
Your company’s healthcare merger dinner, filled with glass clinks and conversations too polished to mean anything real. You wore navy silk backless, sharp heels, and a CEO’s smile. Controlled. Charming. Unshakable.
You hadn’t expected Jaehyun to come.
But there he was—tall, poised in black, medical charm polished with just enough distance to draw eyes without asking for them.
He stood out like a mistake you wanted to make twice.
Your assistant whispered, “Is that your husband?”
You gave a tight smile. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Jaehyun, on cue, raised a brow from across the room. Heard it.
You stood beside each other for the first half hour, exchanging polite pleasantries with investors. He only spoke when needed. Let you lead.
But his eyes?
They didn’t leave your face.
Not once.
Enter David Seo—your firm’s latest clinical advisor and an old college flirtation turned slightly unhinged admirer. Handsome. Wealthy. Dangerous in that loud, performative way Jaehyun never was.
David leaned too close as he spoke to you, fingertips brushing your lower bare back once. Twice.
Jaehyun’s glass tapped the table with a soft clink. Not loud. But pointed.
When David asked, “Are you happy, though?”—Jaehyun was no longer beside you.
He was behind you.
Shoulders squared.
Voice calm. “She is. But thanks for checking.”
David blinked. “Doctor Jung, I presume?”
Jaehyun’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Funny. I don’t recall you being relevant in her life.”
“Jaehyun —please.”
David scoffed and walked off with a muttered “territorial.”
You glared. “Was that necessary?”
Jaehyun’s gaze was hard. “He was touching you.”
“I can handle it.”
He stepped closer. “I know. But you shouldn’t have to.”
That silenced you.
Because it was… sincere.
And it rattled you more than his jealousy.
Later, in the town car home, silence sat thick between you.
You looked out the window. “You don’t get to be jealous.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then, softly: “I’m not jealous.”
You turned to him.
He added, “I’m angry. That someone thinks he can touch you like you’re available.”
You scoffed. “I am available. Our marriage is fake, remember?”
His voice dropped to a low murmur.
“Don’t say that in past tense. Not when you look at me like that.”
You turned your head quickly.
But you didn’t deny it.
PART 4: FRACTURE
The hospital walls blurred around him.
All he heard was the voice on the phone.
“Dr. Jung, your daughter’s been in an accident—hit by a distracted driver near the school exit. She’s stable. But she’s asking for you.”
He didn’t remember how he got there.
He barely remembered throwing off his white coat, running through traffic, or leaving his car at the ER entrance with the keys still inside.
His chest cracked open the moment he saw the door labeled Pediatric Trauma – 407.
And then—
Her voice.
Soft. Frayed.
“Sweetheart, you’re so brave. I’m right here, okay? It’s gonna be okay.”
He stepped in like the air wasn’t heavy with fear.
You sat on the bed beside Jiyeon, her tiny hand gripped in yours, your blouse torn at the shoulder, a gash on your forehead bleeding down the temple. Your blazer draped over her legs. You looked wrecked—but calm. Like you’d been crying for hours and were holding it in just for Jiyeon.
Jaehyun stopped in the doorway.
You turned.
And for the first time—there was no sarcasm. No teasing. Just you. Holding his daughter like she was yours.
“She wanted ice cream..” you said softly. “The cab drove through a red light. I protected her the best I could Jaehyun. I'm sorry.”
His knees almost buckled.
He knelt beside the bed and brushed Jiyeon’s bandaged forehead. Her eyes fluttered.
“Dad…”
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
Her fingers loosened from yours—and slowly found his. She fell back asleep.
Later that night, the nurse gave them clearance to leave.
But Jaehyun didn’t drive home.
He booked a nearby hotel. For Jiyeon’s comfort, he told himself. For rest.
But truthfully—it was because his hands were still shaking.
You stood by the window, changed into one of his spare shirts, hair damp from the hospital shower, bruised and tired and more beautiful than he ever remembered.
“You could’ve died,” he said, quietly.
You looked at him. “So could she.”
“She asked for you before me.”
“She was scared.”
“I’m scared.”
The confession was quiet. Raw. And terrifying.
You didn’t reply. Just walked over.
“I thought I lost her,” he murmured. “And then I saw you with her—and it hit me. She’s not the only one I’ve been afraid of losing.”
You looked up.
And in one moment, every wall shattered.
He stepped forward, cupped your face gently—brushed his thumb over the cut at your temple like it hurt him to see you hurt.
And then—
His lips found yours.
Not gently.
Not softly.
But like he was making up for every second he hadn’t.
You reached up and cupped his jaw. “You don’t have to be afraid. Not with me.”
His breath hitched at that, and then he kissed you — slowly, reverently, like he was trying to memorize the way you tasted in case this was all a dream.
He lifted you onto the counter gently, standing between your knees as he kissed you again, slower this time — not with urgency, but with weight. Your fingers slid into his hair, his hands resting on your thighs, thumbs rubbing soft circles against your skin like he was grounding himself in the reality of you.
“I want you,” he whispered back. “But not just like this.”
“Then how?”
He pressed his forehead to yours. “Like I’ve finally found my home.”
Your eyes stung, but you smiled.
“I want you too,” you breathed. “Like that.”
The world faded around you as he lifted you from the counter and carried you, lips brushing your temple, your shoulder, your hand. He laid you down in bed like you were something fragile — not weak, but precious. His shirt fell away, yours followed. No rush. No tension. Just layers falling away until only skin and breath remained.
His touch was slow. He kissed down your collarbone, between your breasts, over your stomach — pausing at every place his fingers had once only brushed. He whispered soft praises, nothing crude, just tender confessions: You’re so soft. I’ve never wanted anyone this way. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make you feel safe.
When he finally entered you, it wasn’t the stretch you noticed first — it was the way his eyes didn’t leave yours, not even for a second.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him as he moved inside you with the kind of patience you didn’t know existed. Every roll of his hips felt like a promise. Every brush of his lips, a vow.
It built slowly — heat pooling low in your stomach, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes because it wasn’t just pleasure anymore. It was release. It was love.
You whispered his name like a prayer.
And he whispered yours back like it was the answer to everything he’d been missing.
When you came, it was soft and trembling, your breath catching in his mouth as you kissed him through it. He followed, moaning low and deep into your neck, his arms tightening around you like he was terrified to let go.
But he didn’t move away after.
He stayed on top of you, inside you, his fingers tracing your face like he was trying to remember this version of you forever.
“I love you,” he finally whispered, voice breaking.
You touched his lips with your fingers.
“I know. I feel it.”
And in that bed — skin to skin, heart to heart — you weren’t just lovers, or husband and wife.
You were something softer. Something sacred.
You were his again.
And for the first time… he let you be.
Final Epilogue – “Moonlight & Laughter”
The birthday dinner had ended with cake crumbs on everyone’s clothes and frosting in Jiyeon’s hair, but none of you wanted to go home just yet.
So Jaehyun had driven the four of you to the quiet park near the hospital, the one that stayed open late — the one with the soft lanterns that hung from the trees like sleepy fireflies.
Now the air was crisp and cool, the sky navy and full of stars. And you sat on a picnic blanket in the middle of the park, the soft hush of grass beneath you, your newborn cradled against your chest.
Jiyeon was running in wild little circles nearby, her pink dress now stained with ice cream, her laughter rising into the trees like music.
“Dad! Look!” she shouted, pointing to the stroller where Jaehyun had tucked the baby’s diaper bag. “He smiled at me! Baby smiled!”
Jaehyun, sitting beside you, chuckled and called back, “That’s because you’re his favorite.”
“I know!”
She bent down and kissed her baby brother’s forehead — all sticky fingers and warm cheeks — and whispered, “You were my birthday wish”
lip gloss and pink (m) | home | writing masterlist | fic rec library
includes/warnings hard dom!yangyang, fem!reader, semi public sex, dubcon (attempt), anal, drunken sex, innocent!reader, plus sized friendly!reader, perv!yangyang, savior complex, virgin!reader, pink and white aesthetic!reader, being watched, ass eating, cum eating, licking, more clothed sex, unprotected sex, fingering, stealing of virginity, filthy talk, wall sex, corruption, etc
wc 2.1k
a/n i’ve never written anything dubcon! so this is a first for me! if the dubcon part isn’t very good, i’m sure the smut is ;)
pink glossy lips. pink glossy lips that wrapped around the lips of the beer bottle, the fowl taste travels down your throat and into your tummy.
your friends are all laughing and drinking and eating the baskets of wings that sit in the middle of the table, forks poking into wing after wing and shoving messy wings into their own mouths, sauce smearing on the corners of their lips but they’re too intoxicated to care. your slower though as you pick at a wing, cleaner with the sauce unlike your friends.
you weren’t one for drinking. not at all, actually. you’ve drank maybe once or twice before, but those times were on new years and your grandmothers birthday party where she wanted to give you alcohol at only eight years old. she thought it would be funny, to “expose you to the real world.” at that time you swore to never drink alcohol again. that was before you made friendships with this group. the group that peer pressured you into drinking several different types of alcohol, that you later threw up on the sidewalk walking home.
your outfit tonight was pink. like the innocence that dappled on your cheeks and the innocence on your plush lips. thats what caught his eye from across the bar. he almost spilt the drink he was shaking on himself from the distraction of you. you, a mere stranger to him. a cute stranger with the cutest little plumpest belly. your color palette was pink and white, even the color of innocence. couldn’t he wait to get that little white crop top off of you…
you visibly cringe as another quarter of the bottle enters your insides, and it tastes as awful as ever. your onto your third wing of the night, the powerful flavors burst in your mouth making your eyes widen. you reach for your water to only find out it being the beer.
you spit it back in the bottle in a panic, it doesn't really soothe the heat the wing brought to you. you hear a soft giggle behind you, one you don’t recognize. all your friends are completely oblivious to the outside world, the world that welcomes you with an inviting hand. so, you take it.
“you seem very uncomfortable there. are you a drinker?” the red haired boy asks you, a soft smile on his lips. god, he can’t wait.
“er… no.” you say, climbing out of the booth with the help of a stranger, wearing a shirt with “buffalo wild wings” in big white letters on the front. you conclude that he works here.
“if you want, i could mix you up a drink if you want. its a simple little drink i highly recommend for new drinkers.”
seems trustworthy enough.
you blindly follow your savior to the empty bar, where he slips behind and starts fumbling with the bottles. the sounds around you disappear as you focus on the soft clinks of the bottles as he hunts for what he needs.
“so what’s your name?” he asks.
“y/n.” you respond, arms rested on the smooth bar counter.
“im yangyang.” he says, turning around with a bottle im hand, flashing you a precious, gummy smile. if only you knew. “unfortunately i'm missing another component of the drink. want to come to the storage room with me?” he points over his shoulder to a direction you can only assume is the storage room he talked about. “i’m sure i can sneak you in.” he chuckles and leaves the safety of the bar, and wraps around to your barstool. he offers a black polished set of nails.
“oh sure.” you say, hopping off of the stool with his assistance. you feel like two little kids on their way to a magical journey.
the storage room was only several footsteps away as all you really had to do was traverse through the high-top dwellers as they munch on their wings and adding to their collection of glass bottles for the poor servers and bussers to collect.
the two of you disappear into the storage room and yangyang closes the door behind him and twists the lock.
he sets the bottle from the bar onto one of the backup tables that were shoved against the wall across from the door.
“sit here.” he hoists you up on one of the low washing machines, catching a little sight of the mess underneath that little pink plaid skirt, your little pink undies that he couldn’t wait to rip off. your legs swinging back and forth, careful not to smack the washer too hard and break it, watching as he hunts for the final bottle. “so, were those guys your friends?”
“you can say that.” you reply, jumping at the sounds of the corks popping off, one of them skyrocketing and smacking the ceiling of the room, earning a childish and amused giggle from you.
so innocent. “so you don’t drink, but they brought you for some drinks?” you nod slowly, and watch as he frowns and pours small amounts of both bottles into a shaker, and he mixes the drinks. it doesn't take him very long, so he adds a little cherry to the top and a ring of hershey's syrup. “this is what i call a chocolate vanilla drink. it’s my specialty, and its very popular with non-drinkers.” he stands in front of you, and hands you the glass of the alcohol.
you tip the glass up and you already cringe, expecting a fowl and nasty taste. but instead you're greeted with a pleasant taste. a vanilla taste with hints of chocolate and even strawberries. it was like a perfect haven of flavors.
“whaddya think?” he asks, positioning himself in between your legs, and watches as you take another sip. “good enough for another sip i see.” he comments, a smug smirk on his face. “let me have a taste.” he says, but you were mid sip. so the logical solution?
he presses his lips to yours. you almost choked on the drink, but he takes it from you. the drink gets thrown back and forth between your mouths before he steals all the alcohol and swallows it. when you pull away, he helps you down from the washing machine. he grabs your hand and leads you to the table the bottles were just on earlier.
“bend over.” he commands, which, you do. intoxicated by his alcohol and intoxicated with his presence, you can’t really disobey him. you couldn’t push him away, even if you wanted to.
you feel him push up your skirt, his hands groping your plush ass and slaps his hand across your cheeks. you feel his warm breath against your hole, his fingers reaching to move your panties out of his way and let it fall to your ankles.
you suck in your teeth as the cool air hits the hole in between your cheeks, clenching and unclenching nothing. your body knew exactly what it wanted. his tongue makes contact with your hole, drunken moans escaping from your glossed lips, fueling the boner that was no longer so small.
the warmth of his tongue makes your legs shake and your unsure of the stability of your legs let alone the table. the loss of his tongue makes you whimper in defeat to only have it replaced by his long, slender fingers that you clench onto immediately.
“fuck, so tight.” he groans. “imagine when i shove my cock into that cute little hole of yours. think you can take it?” he swaps his fingers with his tongue and his fingers snake up to your pussy folds, his two fingers rubbing circles and threatening to enter.
“oh please.” you beg, your arms reaching to below the table, gripping on to the metal legs and support beams for dear dear life, already feeling hella stimulated with just his fingers and skillful tongue. you grind yourself on his face, earning another slap and a squeeze to your ass.
“gon spank this pretty ass of yours red raw.” his voice is muffled from it practically being buried in between your plump cheeks, hand coming in contact for another smack to your rear. he’s smirking as he watches your cheeks jiggle with each hit, and basks in the sounds of your whimpers and cries.
“m’gonna cum!” you cry out, your sweet white liquid coating his hands. you risk a glance back to see his veins visible, the rolled up sleeves of his pearl snapped company shirt absorb your ropes of white, well aware he would have to go back out in public, wearing your cum.
he licks a stripe up your ass, stopping at your hole to lap up the rest of your release, nothing but a smile on his lips as he stood up and pressed his growing bulge to your bent over for him.
“you feel this? this is what you're doing to me. ever since you walked in this joint.” he growls, rubbing himself against you. his hand grips your face and forcefully turns it to make you look at the corner of the room, a small black security camera settled in the tippy top of the crevice, witnessing everything that was happening. “think we can give them a show?”
your forced to oblige to your savior as he fumbles with his belt. your not sure if he’s drunk or just excited because he struggles a little, keeping your begging, begging hole waiting. the zipper of his jeans is loud and its his turn for something to fall to his ankles, his black boxers following his jeans.
“hold tight baby.” he cooes, and you listen to him as your grip on the metal tightens. his tip itself struggles to slip inside your tight tight hole, the stretch was painful and it oozed a little amount of scarlet red blood to drip down your leg. “little princess is a cute little virgin hm? never had a big dick like me hm? don’t worry y/n. you’ll feel better after i’m done with you.” with a growl he pushes himself in slightly more, getting by inch by inch inside of you, slowly stretching you out further and further. the pain was tolerable with the alcohol that surged through your system.
he was finally able to push himself balls-deep inside of you, skin-on skin. he gave you some time to adjust and get used to his size, before slowly pulling out and slamming himself back inside. you stumble forward, but his grip on your waist holds you along with your grip on the table. he slaps another hard smack to your ass, each smack getting harder and each new smack leaving a large white print on your cheeks.
“not gonna let you fall.” he reassures you, pulling out and slamming himself back inside, this time much harder. “little girls gonna get a creampie from her hero.” he says, pressing his nails to your skin to form crescent moons. marks he wished he were permanent. marks to simply claim a cute little stranger as his fuck toy.
you didn’t know what it felt like to have someone shoot a thick seed in you. but you began to grind yourself on his hips to get closer to your curiosity, but another sharp sting and you cry out as he spanks you again.
“please.” you whine out, unsure of what you were begging for. his thrusts became more violent and more aggressive to you, your worst fear becoming true: the table underneath you snapped.
you were almost sent to the floor when his strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you up. “said i wasn’t gonna let you fall.” he grumbles, using his hands to make you stand up, flipped you around, and pressed you to the wall. this new angle allowed him to push even deeper inside of you, the wall muffling your moans as he pressed his hand to your face. “fuck.” he groans, pressing his lips to your neck, his teeth capturing your skin and sucking on it gently. “m’gonna cum. ready for it babygirl?” the pet name rang in your ear, your legs are on the verge of snapping and letting you fall. his free hand slipped forward to rub your pussy, his fingers pinching your clitoris, giving you another sensation.
“i’m about to cum.” you shriek, your hands pressed against the wall, trying to grip on to nothing as he was slamming into you. you cum on his cock and on his fingers, which was like sending him into a frenzy.
his thrusts quickened, and he felt his high coming closer and closer. finally, he came inside of you, feeling his seed mix with yours and drip down your legs.
“looking so pretty for me.” he whispers in your ear, his hand massaging your folds peacefully, helping you ride out your high.
“perhaps,” you begin, speaking with heavy breaths, “i should drink alcohol more.”
"Oppa, look!" Boyoung tapped his arm to get his attention, pointing to a dressing room. "You should totally do a challenge with them."
"Hm?" Taeyong furrowed his brows, squinting to read the name on the dressing room door. "Xlov? Oh, that's the group one of the fans requested, and the one you featured in their MV with, right?"
"Right," she confirmed with glee, grabbing his hand. "Come on! Let's do challenges together! I want you to meet my new friends, and also -" She whipped around to face him with a small smile. "One of them especially looks up to you and respects you."
"Ahh, if that is the case, then..." Taeyong nodded determined, looping his arm with hers to knock on their hoobae's door.
"Hello~!" Boyoung entered first, beaming as she accepted Xlov's warm and loving greeting.
"Ah, our super star!" Wumuti cooed, cupping her face briefly in endearment before bringing her into a hug. "I didn't know you were coming today?"
"Nice surprise!" Hyun cheered, hugging her next.
"Well, of course I came! I want to come and support you guys!" she scoffed, hugging Haru next.
"Will you be doing our challenge with us, then?" Haru wondered hopefully. Boyoung sent him a deadpanned look.
"Duh,"
"Sorry, just making sure, haha..." He scratched the back of his head shyly, making Boyoung soften her gaze when she looked at all of them. It saddened her to see them being wary with who they could do challenges with in their industry.
"So, speaking of challenges," Boyoung cleared her throat, accepting Rui's hug next. "Someone wants you guys to do a challenge with them."
"Oh?" Rui raised an eyebrow when Boyoung looked at her pointedly.
Pulling away from Rui, Boyoung went to the door, opening it to reveal Taeyong.
Xlov's jaws dropped.
"TAEYONG SUNBAENIM!" They all exclaimed, bowing 90 degrees instantly.
"Hello!" Taeyong greeted back shyly, bowing just as respectively.
"Oh my -" Rui gasped, looking between Boyoung and Taeyong. "Wow - I can't believe - what do I do?"
"Oppa is doing promotions same time as you guys," Boyoung shrugged, "And both of you guys are my friends and loved ones. Why not have two worlds collide?"
"Thank you for being friends with Boyoung too, and taking care of her," Taeyong added sincerely, entering the room to shake each of their hands. "I always get happy and excited when I hear her make friends outside of the company."
"We should be thanking her, for wanting to be our friend!" Wumuti retorted, sending a grateful look her way. Boyoung shrugged shyly.
"We all know how it feels to be judged by the public..."
"Ah, don't we all..." Taeyong wrapped an arm around her shoulders, ruffling her hair while he was at it. "So! I was wondering if you guys would be interested in joining me in my dance challenge -?"
"YES! OF COURSE, WE WOULD LOVE TO!" Rui squealed, jumping in her spot excitedly. "I'm a big fan of yours, Sunbaenim!"
Boyoung beamed at being able to fulfill Rui's dream of meeting Taeyong.
roald dahl was antisemitic and misogynistic. george orwell was openly homophobic. edgar allan poe married his 13 year old cousin. dr seuss cheated on his wife (and was racist as well as antisemitic!). hp lovecraft was racist as fuck.
anyways they’re fucking dead it’s not like you’re enabling their behaviors in the afterlife or something. then again I think they bleed into the books so uh keep an eye out for that
the difference between these old white guys and jk rowling is that the former group is all dead. jk rowling is alive and using your money to oppress trans people
Hi hi, when is the first instance of "Race Start!!" when Ji Suk Jin is ousted??
I don’t remember the first time they said “race start” but it was close to episode 97 - that’s the time they pulled off Ji Suk Jin’s name tag and it said Race Start underneath.
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