synopsis! — you ask your loving boyfriend to pick an outfit out for you while you’re shopping!
g! — fluff, lots of sarcasm, gn! reader, established-relationship, more fluff.
wc! — 1.6 k
an! — based on THIS ask! thank you for requesting, sorry for any mistakes, I wrote this at 3 a.m., enjoy!
↬ CHAN
he treats the whole thing like it matters more than it probably should. the store is quiet, late afternoon light slanting through the windows, and he walks beside you with his hands clasped loosely like he’s trying not to rush. when you tell him he gets to choose, he blinks, then smiles brightly at you, “really?” he gravitates toward textures first. his fingers brush fabrics, testing softness, stretching cuffs, rubbing material between his thumb and forefinger. he picks things that feel lived-in already—oversized knits, muted colors, clothes that look like they’d hold warmth long after you leave the room. he keeps holding items up to your body without fully committing, stepping back, tilting his head. you notice how often his eyes flick back to your face, like he’s checking for permission even when you gave it to him already.
in the fitting room, you hear him pacing. when you step out, he stills completely. it’s quiet in that way where the moment seems to settle. his shoulders relax, a breath he didn’t realize he was holding finally leaving him. “yeah,” he says softly, “that looks right.” he comes closer, adjusting the sleeve just a little, fingers warm and careful. the outfit isn’t flashy. it’s comforting. like something meant to be worn during long nights and slow mornings. you catch him smiling without meaning to.
↬ MINHO
he doesn’t react much when you tell him he gets to choose. just a glance, sharp and assessing, like he’s already thinking ahead. “okay,” he says simply, hands slipping into his pockets as he walks. he moves through the store with purpose, barely stopping. when he does, he picks up an item, weighs it in his hands, then either tucks it into his arm or puts it back without explanation. he doesn’t ask your opinion. you asked for his.
what he chooses is practical but flattering. it’s simple. jeans and a thin, loose shirt that feels like gentle kisses at your skin. when you step out wearing it, his eyes flick over you slowly. there’s a pause. then a faint smirk. “yeah,” he says, “figured.” he doesn’t gush. he doesn’t elaborate. but he steps closer, tugging lightly at the fabric, approving. later, when you wear it again, he notices immediately. doesn’t say anything. just reaches out, fingers brushing your side as he passes. that small, knowing smile says enough.
↬ CHANGBIN
he’s confident about it. when you hand him the choice, he doesn’t hesitate. he scans racks with purpose, pulling something bold but balanced. something that frames you rather than overwhelms you, reaching for dark professional looking attire. when you step out, his reaction is immediate. his posture shifts, eyes darkening with appreciation. “yeah,” he says. “that’s it.”
he circles you slowly, nodding, adjusting your collar with gentle hands. “you wear it like it was made for you.” you can’t help but giggle at your hype man, “i do, huh?” and he eats it up, smirking at you and grabbing your hands in his, “of course you do! there’s no question, the designer must have had you in mind when he made this.” his seriousness draws sharp laughter from you, smiling back. you tousle your hair a bit, posing for him. immediately he backs up, holding his hands out to form a picture frame with you in the middle. it’s a private photoshoot with his favorite person, and you’re in for the ego trip of a lifetime. shopping with him feels secure. decisive. later, he tells you he picked it because it matches your strength. every time you wear it, he looks proud.
↬ HYUNJIN
he takes the responsibility seriously the moment you tell him. his expression shifts, focus sharpening as he scans the store. he moves slowly, deliberately, fingers trailing along fabrics as if he’s reading them. he doesn’t reach for many things—only the ones that catch his attention for a reason he can’t quite explain.
he studies silhouettes, how clothes might fall when you move. colors that would soften against your skin instead of overpowering it. when he holds something up, he steps back, head tilted, imagining it on you before committing. he barely speaks, but you feel how intentional he’s acting, like an artist immersed in his painting. what he chooses is understated but striking. clean lines, soft structure. something elegant without being stiff. when you step out wearing it, he freezes for a moment, breath catching. “you’re beautiful,” he says softly, almost like it slipped out before he could polish it. he steps closer, brushing your wrist lightly. “this suits you too well.” the outfit feels deliberate. like it highlights you instead of wearing you.
↬ JISUNG
he makes it chaos immediately. the second you tell him he’s choosing, he gasps dramatically and announces he’s taking this responsibility “very seriously.” the store becomes his personal playground. he darts between racks, throwing commentary over his shoulder, holding up ridiculous things just to see your reaction. but beneath the jokes, he’s paying attention. he watches how you gravitate toward certain fabrics, how you wrinkle your nose at others. when he finally settles on an outfit, it’s unexpectedly good. relaxed, a little oversized, something that looks like it could be stolen from his closet but tailored to you. when you come out wearing it, he goes quiet. the grin softens into something warmer. “oh,” he says. “okay. wow.” he steps closer, hands hovering, then lightly tugs at the hem. “you’re not allowed to look this good in something i picked.”
he spins you once, laughing, then pulls you into his chest. shopping finishes quickly after that because he’s already decided. later, he keeps teasing you about how you owe him for his “excellent taste,” but every time he looks at you in it, his eyes linger just a second longer than before.
↬ FELIX
he’s nervous from the start, bouncing on his heels, laughing too much. “okay, but you can’t judge me,” he says, already judging himself. the store is bright, music humming overhead, and he looks overwhelmed by choice. he keeps pulling things off racks, then immediately putting them back. “no, that’s too much.” “wait… maybe?” he asks your opinion but then backtracks, flustered, hair falling into his eyes. eventually, he starts choosing with instinct instead of logic. bright colors, something that catches the light when you move. something he thinks will make you smile.
when you step out of the fitting room, his entire face lights up like he forgot how to breathe. he laughs, hands flying to his mouth. “oh. oh no.” you raise a brow, worried, but before you can say anything he continues, “that’s… you look unreal.” he turns away for a second, pacing, rubbing the back of his neck. he keeps peeking back at you like the sight might disappear if he stares too long. when he finally comes closer, he gestures vaguely. “i thought it would look nice but i didn’t think i’d be looking at heaven.” the outfit feels warm, comfortable, a little playful. it suits you in a way that feels natural, like it belongs to your movements. he beams the entire checkout line, cheeks pink, still laughing under his breath.
↬ SEUNGMIN
he doesn’t rush. he listens. when you tell him he gets to choose, he nods like he’s filing the information away. the store is calm, almost empty, and he walks slowly beside you, thoughtful. he chooses something practical. comfortable. something that looks like it would last. when you step out wearing it, something vulnerable flashes across his face before he hides it behind a small smile. “that looks… really good,” he says, quieter than usual.
he reaches out, fingers brushing the sleeve, grounding himself. the outfit is something he would wear. seeing you in clothing so similar to his jumpstarts his heart because it feels like you’re growing closer. he coughs a little to hide the blush creeping over him, “okay, let’s take that sweater off now. it’s white, don’t ruin it yet.” you roll your eyes, waving away his comment and noticing how soft the cuff truly is. he pays quickly, almost protective. he insists on carrying the bag. outside, the air is cooler, and he tucks you closer without thinking. later, when you wear it again, he notices immediately. he smiles every time. like it reassures him.
↬ JEONGIN
he acts like it’s a joke the moment you tell him he gets to choose. eyes widening, hand to his chest. “me? fashion authority?” he laughs, already backing toward the racks like he might trip over his own feet. the store smells faintly like clean fabric and air conditioning, the kind of place meant for slow wandering. he keeps pulling things out just to comment on them. “too cool.” “this feels like something a cartoon villain would wear.” “okay, wait, this one’s actually soft.” his fingers linger on that one longer. the teasing never fully stops, but you notice he starts checking sizes more carefully, smoothing it out before holding it up to you.
what he ends up choosing is simple. cozy. an oversized hoodie layered with relaxed pants, something meant for comfort more than attention. “i just want you to feel good,” he says, shrugging like it’s obvious. when you step out of the fitting room, his smile comes instantly, greeting you with the familiar crinkle of his eyes. “yeah,” he says, nodding. “that’s you.” he steps closer, tugging lightly at the sleeve. he pulls you into a hug right there, laughter muffled against your shoulder. later, when you wear it again, he notices immediately. “hey,” he says softly, pointing. “my pick.” there’s pride in his voice, but you’re just glad he didn’t stick you in something cartoon villan-y.
→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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Hot Wheels [M]
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Tags: 15.9k, 90's AU, Co-Workers to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Smut 18+
Collab: Now That's 90's
Summary: There has been something brewing between you and your part-time co-worker (full-time hottie), Kim Mingyu. Endlessly flirting on the clock at Wheelies, making out in the back of the movie theater, rolling around in the sand with a mighty good man...no other 90's dreamboat could ever compare.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf (consensual) sex, fingering, low-key breast play, making out (in public), hickey talk, Mingyu is hung (obvs), he's also portrayed as 'taller' than the mc in interactions, mild to moderate language use, gyu's roomies are sloshed at the end (unrelated to smut or main characters), that should cover all the bases...
Fridays at the roller rink are always busy but this is the first official skate-night of Summer Time ‘99 and it’s like opening day all over again. The schools let out just a few hours ago, releasing hoards of teenagers with pent-up energy loose on your small town and there is a line out the door waiting to get into Wheelies to jump-start their next few months of freedom.
Thankfully, the owners prepared and bought a whole new stock of skates so when you inevitably have to help out at the rental counter you’ll have enough to go around without having to argue with some sixteen-year-old about not having their size.
For now, you’re on the floor making sure everything is running smoothly, gliding around in circles with your hands in your pockets. It’s not too packed just yet even though you can see the steady stream of kids filtering through the doors after hitting the ticket booth. Mothers are packing up their little ones knowing it’s time to head out before it picks up pace and the exchange in skaters coming on and off the floor keeps things pretty even for a short while.
As you pass by the DJ booth for the hundredth time this evening, Vernon pauses to make a goofy face at you while he sets up his equipment. He’s probably the one person who enjoys the summer nights the most because he gets to put on light shows and mix tracks to his heart’s content.
After letting the floor empty a bit more, you come to a stop in front of him for a quick break, crossing your arms and resting them over the top of his carpeted booth.
“You gonna play something special for me tonight, Nonnie?”
He rolls his eyes but grins all the same. “You ask me that every night.”
Laying your head on your arms, you look up at him with a pout, “And yet, no romantic song dedications to your favorite Wheelies girl,” you pick your head up and bat your eyes at him, “I’m starting to think you want to break up with me.”
“I promise if I want to end our made-up relationship, I’ll tell you like a real man. Besides,” Vernon laughs and tilts his chin up, looking at something behind you, “I think you’ve been seeing other people. Hotter Wheels if you catch my drift.”
“Heh, I think he hates that name,” you turn, catching sight of Mingyu ducking into the locker rooms to change out and stow his bag, most likely coming straight from hockey practice. Vernon is back to messing with things when you turn, humming, “Lets be real. I only like boys who don’t like me, Nonnie, that’s why you’re the one.”
“What if he’s like you and only goes for girls who don’t want him?”
At that you laugh, preparing to depart as the floor begins to steadily fill again. “Well then, he’ll be lonely forever because I am pretty sure everyone wants him.”
“Including you?”
Very stealthily, you flip him the bird.
Vernon just laughs it off and gets back to work as you skate away, toying with the whistle tied around your neck. You can tell he’s about to get started with his new set when the lights dim and the carpeted walls and floors outside of the polished skate floor start to glow. The little whirls and shapes coming to life with a neon purple hue.
You catch the line piling up at the rental booth but thankfully, it looks like they called in a few extra hands tonight to help there and in concessions which means you get to stay on the floor. Rentals isn’t the worst, that would be birthday party hosting, but you also hate concessions so you don’t put up a fuss when you’re asked to help with skates or in the front on the rare occasion one of the sweet old ladies manning the ticket windows is out.
As more people start piling onto the floor you slow your pace and skate backward for a few feet to check out your surroundings and find teenagers everywhere, loud and wildly unaware of their surroundings. They aren’t too awful this early in the night but you’re sure you’ll have to escort someone off the floor before closing time.
You’ll enjoy your leisurely pace for now and it seems Wonwoo is keen to do the same on the opposite side of the crowd. He weaves in and out of skaters bobbing his head to the music. His glasses are sitting lower on his nose than usual and you’re sure he’s broken them again…or his little brother did and he’s waiting for their exact replacement to come in so he can switch them out without his brother noticing and feeling any more guilty.
He’s only eight but Wonwoo is his very best friend. They come in on Saturdays together, one of Wonwoo’s only days off, and he teaches his brother to skate for an hour or so before he lets him loose in the arcade and they leave with matching ice cream cones in hand. They even have matching shaggy hairstyles. It’s adorable.
In truth, you’re fond of many of your co-workers but Wonwoo is definitely in your top three for that reason alone. You get along really well with any easy-going personality, it's the same with Vernon. They are both just nice, quiet guys and the exact opposite of the giant shadow hanging over your left shoulder.
Although, you suppose you get along just fine with him as well.
“Quit checking Wonwoo out, you’re breaking my heart.”
Even before he opened his mouth, the distinct cologne he always wore told you Mingyu was finally on the floor, ready to chase you around for the rest of the night like it was his full-time job. He spent more time trying to charm your pants off than doing what he was actually hired to do but he is so damn charming that he somehow gets away with it.
Besides, this is just a part-time gig for him. Might as well enjoy himself while he’s at it.
When you don’t answer right away, he decides to show off his stupidly impressive hockey maneuvers and he swings around in front of you, casually skating backward without bothering to look behind him. He’s big enough that people can’t miss him and they tend to move out of his path pretty quickly. Now that he sees your face, he’s smirking because you don’t even have it in you to hide your smile tonight. “Oh, that’s pretty,” he coos, “My heart’s healing already.”
You grab his arm to pull his hand away from his chest and he spins around to skate at your side, eyes briefly scanning the floor until they’re back on you.
“I wasn’t checking him out but believe me… you’re going to be absolutely devastated when Vernon finally admits he’s in love with me. Game over, buddy.”
Mingyu looks wholly unconvinced. “Well, he’s had long enough and you’re going to fall in love with me by the end of the week so…” he pinches his lips together like he’s just delivered the real, honest, awkward truth and you’re battling butterflies in your stomach.
“End of the week, huh? Are we sure?”
He gets distracted by an increase in volume but for only a moment because Wonwoo is already on it and the quick, sharp sound of his whistle means Mingyu’s full attention is on you again. “That’s what I have circled on my calendar,” he shrugs, “Nothing we can do about it now but let it happen.”
Mingyu’s sense of humor and playful nature are the literal nails in your coffin. You can handle hot with no personality…this one is hot with an overabundance of personality.
You look up at him, probably grinning ear to ear, “Bet you have little hearts doodled all over it with a hot pink gel pen, don’t ya, Hot Wheels?”
He grumbles something under his breath and it makes you snicker. Wonwoo started that one and it seemed to spread throughout the building like wildfire. Now, even the ticket ladies call him Hot Wheels though you’re sure they mean it quite literally whereas Wonwoo was actually just busting Mingyu’s balls about a particularly embarrassing tumble he took.
“Purple gel pen, actually,” he turns and pouts as you both bank around the curve again, “Lost my pink one.”
“Could always steal another one from your little sister.”
At that, he scoffs, the corner of his lips pulled up into a half-smile, “She threw a Barbie car at my head the last time I visited,” he doesn’t even sound upset…it’s more proud than anything, “She reminds me of you sometimes.”
When you go to respond, a young boy accidentally skates too close to you and his wheels knock into yours throwing you both off balance. You catch him by the arm, meeting his panic-stricken eyes, and wait to hit the floor but you rock back against a hard chest and thank all your lucky stars Mingyu was there to save you. The older you get, the harder the floor feels.
“I’m so sorry!” The boy exclaims once you’re all steady again, “I’m not good at this! I promise I wasn’t trying to take you out!”
His genuine concern is sweet and you laugh it off. “It’s totally okay and nobody got hurt,” you tell him and he takes a deep breath, “Wanna go around together a few times?”
The boy’s eyes shine and he nods his head rapidly. Mingyu drops back a few paces and you hold out your arm, elbow tucked into your side. “Okay,” you pat your forearm, “Hold on here…there you go…and we’re going to push off at the same time with the same foot. Hey, Gyu,” you call over your shoulder and he comes back up to your side, waiting for your instructions, “Will you skate a little ahead of us so he can watch you?”
“For sure,” Mingyu grins, picking up speed until he’s far enough away to slow his pace again and remain ahead of you.
The kid is a bit wobbly but he’s trying really hard and it makes you smile. You remember when you first learned to skate and how intimidating the rink was though you were around eight and he looks to be around fourteen. There wasn’t a floor full of bigger, faster kids to compete with though so you think maybe you got off easier.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage him, “Watch him go around the curve to get a better idea of how to steer yourself.”
Mingyu banks it beautifully, as usual. It’s surprising to most people that someone his size could skate so fluidly especially after learning that he only started playing hockey in his early teens. It was just something he had a natural talent for and trading out blades for wheels hadn’t altered his ability to move with grace whatsoever.
You work through the turn together, a little less smoothly, but you make it around and he lets out a short laugh. “He makes it look so easy.”
“Yeah, well he’s had lots and lots of practice and likes to show off.”
Your eyes settle on Mingyu again and as if he can sense you watching, he turns over his shoulder and winks which is not solely witnessed by you because the kid chuckles, following through the next curve with more confidence. “Is he your boyfriend? He’s kinda cool.”
The question catches you off guard and you laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Not my boyfriend but yeah…I guess he’s kinda cool.”
He looks up at you…almost mischievously you’d think, if you knew him better. “I think he wants to be your boyfriend,” he snickers, “He keeps looking at you.”
You huff out a laugh, placing your hand over his before swinging you both into a stop out of the way. “I’m starting to think this is all a ruse and he’s paying you to put in a good word.”
The kid laughs and shakes his head, “No, I’m just nosey and a really lousy skater,” he says, looking up at Mingyu who’s come over and stopped next to you, “Thanks a lot for helping me out,” he looks a little sheepish, hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, “There is this girl at school I like and she’s a figure skater. She asked me out on a date at the ice rink when she comes back from vacation with her family in two weeks and I said yes even though I’m probably going to make a fool of myself. Figured I should start practicing now and falling on wheels is less intimidating than falling with knives on my feet.”
You laugh softly and Mingyu grins, shaking his head. “I admire your dedication to getting the girl, kid. Listen, I coach a youth hockey league at the ice rink down the road and have a free hour a few days a week that I use to practice myself. I’d be happy to teach you if you want.”
The boy’s eyes light up. “That would be so cool!”
Mingyu chuckles, “Alright, awesome. Are one of your parents here with you? I can go talk to them and give them my information.”
“Yeah! My grandma is sitting over there,” he points to the corner where you both make out an older woman sitting alone with a book in hand, surrounded by way too many boisterous young people.
You meet Mingyu’s eyes and both make a face. “Yikes, okay, let’s go save grandma.”
The boy thanks you again and starts to merge back into the flow of skaters as Mingyu smiles at you, pushing off with a ‘Don’t miss me too much’ and a stupid kissy face.
His grin is wild and gorgeous when you wiggle your fingers and whisper, “Bye, lover boy.”
Vernon is smiling at you when you reach his booth and you hop up onto the small ledge that allows a good look at the floor as a whole while also giving your legs a needed break. He’s playing one is his 80’s to 90’s pop mixes and tweaking the rotating lights that dance over the skaters until they start changing colors, neon polka dots as far as the eye can see.
There is a steady exchange of kids coming on and off the floor. Most of the early group heading into the arcade or bombarding the concessions counter while the later crowd takes their place. In between all that, you catch sight of Mingyu speaking with the boy and his Grandma. You don’t even realize that you’re unabashedly smiling at the scene, thinking about how kind and attentive he is when he’s listening. The way he leans in and pulls back, grinning and laughing.
“Still think you’re not into him?” Vernon says over your shoulder, laughing when you startle.
You purse your lips, eyes wandering back over. “I’m simply admiring his social aptitude,” you flick your eyes back up to Vernon and grin, “Why? Is it making you jealous darling?”
He smirks, “Not yet. Gonna have to try harder.”
“Ugh,” you swoon, hand over your heart, “I love it when you play hard to get.”
Vernon nods his head laughing, “Yeahhhh, I know you do.” Then he notices you’ve got your eye on an issue that needs handling and reaches out to pat the top of your head, “Two more hours and they all have to go home to be someone else’s responsibility. I’ll throw in some of your favorite jams.”
Ten o’clock couldn’t come soon enough but you appreciate his offer and toss out a few songs for consideration though he’s pretty familiar with your tastes. You step back down onto the floor and blow Vernon a kiss when you immediate recognzie the song he’s jumped into…just for you.
“You really are the best. Check on you in a bit, undercover lover.”
He throws up a peace sign and you cut across the floor to ask a couple of kids who were just blowing and popping bubbles to go spit out their gum as it’s clearly stated that it's not allowed on the floor. They don’t love your request and start to argue but Mingyu sneaks up behind you again and dazzles them with a smile. Just like that, the two young girls start giggling and falling all over themselves to do exactly as asked…all because the pretty guy said ‘Please’.
It’s comical, honestly.
Mingyu is smirking when he rolls along beside you, bending at the waist to peek up at your face because it’s aimed at the floor as you try to school your features. He’s so irritatingly flirtatious and you’re too quickly playing into his hand tonight. You’re usually better than this, holding out well until you’re pulling out of the parking lot.
“Oh, yeah,” he intones, “Tonight is definitely the night. You’re giving in. You can’t resist me any longer. It was bound to happen. You’re still smiling! I can see it!”
Laughing, you pull your head up and give him a look that you would have loved to be firm but it’s not in the slightest. How can you be serious when he is so not serious? “Don’t you dare,” you warn with a loose laugh tacked on at the end, “I told you, we’re not going on a date.”
Mingyu shrugs, “So, movies tomorrow night?”
“Don’t you work tomorrow?”
He bats his eyes with a saccharine smile, “I love that you know my schedule by heart,” he ignores your eye roll, “Wonu’s covering my shift since he owed me one and also because he’s a true romantic. He’s rooting for us and we can’t disappoint him.”
“Well, I suppose if it’s what Wonwoo wants…” you look up at him, eyes glittering with excitement, “When are you picking me up?”
For as calm and cool as Mingyu keeps it on the outside, he’s buzzing on the inside because he’s been toying around with the idea of taking you out forever. And he’s asked…more than once…but you’ve kept him on his toes and he’s enjoyed the playing the game but he’s elated that you’re finally saying yes.
He tries to school is face but he’s still beaming as he tries to casually say, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Seven?” you snicker, “Isn’t that a little late to get started? You keeping me out all night?”
He just shrugs, grinning. “Maybe.”
Mingyu shows up nearly twenty minutes early and you can see his car outside your condo. He doesn’t make a move to get out and it’s amusing to watch as he nervously drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few beats before reaching for the door like he’s going to get out, and then shaking his head before resuming the fidgeting. It’s also a relief to know he’s feeling the same jitters you are.
The thought crossed your mind to pop your head out to wave him inside but he might be giving himself a pep-talk and you’re still contemplating your outfit.
The movie theater is always so cold. You debated the pros and cons of wearing something short-sleeved because on one hand, if you’re cold it might prompt your date to keep you warm but on the other hand, if he didn’t, you’d be freezing the whole time.
You could bring a jacket, but that’s an extra thing to carry.
Digging through your closet, you pull out a fuzzy black long-sleeved sweater. You hold it out, admiring the way it’s cropped a little shorter in the front, and then turn back to the mirror, holding it up to your chest. It would look cute with the Levi’s you’re wearing…decisions, decisions.
A car horn beeps and you peer out of your window seeing Mingyu rigid behind the wheel. You laugh, thinking he probably did not mean to do it and is embarrassed at having accidentally made too much noise. That’s pretty obvious by the way he’s looking around, paranoid and frustrated. It’s actually super cute and you’re lingering by the window now just admiring him from afar without care
Until you see Mingyu cut the engine and get out of the car. Then the panic sets in because you’re still not ready and well…it’s the first time he’s seeing you outside of work and not in uniform. You want him to be wowed and are probably still taking too long to get moving considering how brisk of a stride you know his to be. He’ll be here any second.
You scramble to pull on the sweater in your hands and run into the bathroom to grab your gold hoops, fix your hair, and check your makeup one last time. Your heart is racing but you smile at your reflection. He sees you all the time at work looking not even half as done-up as you are right now and thinks you’re a solid 10, so there isn’t really any doubt he’ll be pleased. Then the doorbell rings.
A few deep breaths to calm your nerves comes first. When you open the door, Mingyu’s mouth is fixed like he had a line locked and loaded but when he sees you, he chokes on the words. He’s so flustered that he stumbles back a step, laughing at himself. “Oh, you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”
That lights you up from the inside out and brings your confidence back around full circle.
“Have I ever made things easy for you?” you snicker, grabbing your purse off the hook by the door, “I think you like a challenge.”
“Nah, I just like you,” he smirks, tongue poking the end of his pointed canine as he watches you close and lock the door, trying his hardest to be respectful, “You look really good. Have I said that yet?”
Stashing your keys in your purse, you turn and grin up at him. “You alluded to it but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it out loud.”
Always playing and teasing and flirting. It’s almost too much for you both to bear at this point.
“I’ll tell you as many times as you want,” he says softly but he reaches toward you, slipping his hand just behind your hip to pull you closer with a bold, sharp tug. Startled, you bump right into Mingyu’s chest and look up at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t say anything for a minute and then tilts his head back, sighing into the sky above. He’s mostly amused when he looks back at you.
“You look incredible…and we should get in the car before I ruin the illusion of me being a gentleman.”
“That image has been splintering for a while but I don’t think I’ll mind if a manner or two slips,” you tease as you pull apart, taking the time to look him up and down…
Light-washed jeans, crisp white t-shirt, open flannel hanging off his broad shoulders…”You look really good too,” you murmur in appreciation.
He’s about to sweating straight through his shirt if you keep looking at him like that.
“...yep…time to go,” he mumbles, pinching is lips together as he grabs your hand. He pulls you toward the parking lot which isn’t far, and opens the door for you to slip into his passenger seat. He doesn’t let go until you’re settled and takes it a touch further when he reaches in and grabs the seatbelt before you. His hand purposely grazes against the exposed skin between your pants and top as he buckles you in and you let out the breath you were holding the second he closes your door.
It’s getting more difficult to play hard-to-get by the millisecond but you’re willing to give in first if your reward is Mingyu breaking down bit by bit right in front of you.
You bite your lip to keep from giggling when he quickly rounds the car and settles into his seat next to you. He’s still shaking his head, quietly laughing at himself for getting so easily worked up. He turns over the engine, shifting into drive, and peers over at you with an air of disbelief.
“I’m starting to think we’re gonna have to sit in separate rows at this rate.”
Thankfully, the tension melts into easy banter and conversation on the ride to the theater. Mingyu entertains you with stories about his family and asks after yours, specifically your beloved niece whom he loves hearing about. He lets you toy around with his radio and blare some Spice Girls song that neither of you sings along to with the correct pitch…or words. It’s a blast either way.
Bold flirtation aside, Mingyu has always been a gentleman where it counts.
When you arrive at the movie theater, he opens all the doors, holds your hand every chance he gets, pays for your tickets and snacks despite your protesting, and lets you choose where to sit. The theater isn’t very full, though the movie you both decided on has been out for a while so it’s not all that surprising to see so many open seats. There are a few people scattered here and there and you don’t particularly love sitting next to others if you can avoid it.
That leaves the very front or the very back.
You glance over your shoulder at Mingyu, patiently waiting for you to decide, “You really don’t care?”
He shakes his head again with a soft smile and you sigh looking back at the open seats, “I don’t like being super close…are you okay with sitting up top?”
Mingyu’s eyes scan the very empty top rows and widen like he hadn’t actually realized how secluded they were until just now. “Totally cool,” he manages after a moment, “Lead the way.”
“Oh boy,” you whisper to yourself, turning to make your way up the stairs. You have to focus ahead and calculate the distance of each step so you don’t screw up and trip because that would be awfully embarassing. It’s dark, cold, and quiet, and there is a huge gap between the section you’re headed toward and the next closest couple sitting in the middle.
The very last row was almost too intimidating as if it somehow was the designated spot reserved for horny, depraved teenagers, and you were mid-twenty adults…so you stopped once you hit the second to last row and cut in a few seats before deciding that sitting in the middle was also weird so you dropped into the fourth seat from the aisle and forced yourself to stay put.
PIcking a seat and sticking with it has never been so daunting before.
Mingyu doesn’t say anything at all about your choice, much to your relief. If he cracked a joke about it, you think you might just burst at the seams. He just sits down in the seat next to you folding his very large frame into the too-tight space between the armrests. You’re both quiet as the lights dim and the previews start rolling but you can still feel him wiggling and adjusting himself next to you.
Your eyes meet when he accidentally bumps your arm and you smile at the fact that he is genuinely embarrassed, for no reason at all other than unintentionally taking up extra space. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I don’t remember the seats feeling this cramped.”
“It’s really okay,” you turn, tucking his elbow safely into his side as you lift the armrest between you to give him more room, “We can share.”
“Are you sure?” his eyes seek yours again in the darkness, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
You quietly snicker at his worry when he was the one being so brazen with your proximity earlier. At the same time, you can appreciate his consideration and reassure him with a gentle smile. “I really don’t mind…the extra body heat is appreciated.”
You can feel the moment Mingyu lets the tension flow out of his body. His shoulders relax until your arms touch lightly, his legs spread a little further apart as he sinks into his seat, firm thigh now pressed to the outside of your own. He’s warm and his cologne, as usual, is so rich and alluring that you know you’re going to be fighting the urge to mold yourself to his side for the next hour and a half.
Surprisingly, the movie isn’t half bad even though it was one you chose because every other film out was either super sad or overtly romantic and neither genre felt like a good fit for a first date. ‘Black Mask’ had a decent balance of action scenes and suspense that pretty easily kept your eyes on the screen, at least for a little while, sharing sour gummy worms and a soda between the two of you.
Your attention began to wane after the third time you bumped hands with Mingyu and it was lost entirely when he decided to simply hold your hand instead. Movie plot gone in an instant.
Instead of the screen, your eyes fall to your joined hands resting in his lap. They climb up to his chest, slowly rising and falling with each measured breath. Carefully, you let them slide higher, admiring the shadows projected over his throat and jaw. Higher to admire his handsome face. Higher again, just to get a little more of him, and when you get there, you find him staring back.
Neither of you shy away this time. Mingyu nervously licks his lips and his eyes flit down to yours, only for a second, just to reassure himself that you’re both on the same wavelength even though the chemistry between you has always been pretty clear. He still hesitates before he leans closer but you’re done waiting and choose to kiss him first.
It’s soft, brief, and when you part, you can see the smile on his handsome face and it brings the butterflies in your stomach back to life all over again. He cups your cheek and pulls you back into another kiss, and then another, and another. A million times you’d thought about kissing Mingyu and this was still far better than any you’d imagined thus far.
Actually kissing him highlights the small details you were missing. The bits of it that are unique and a part of him only. It’s the way his thumb strokes against your cheek, how he tilts his face and changes his angle so fluidly that you follow him like it’s completely natural, the tender way he’s slow to let go of your bottom lip and how he kisses it afterward.
It’s certainly not your first kiss or even the first time you’ve made out with someone at the movies, but this feels entirely new. Mingyu is not some hopped up, horny kid. He takes his time with you, he’s gentle, patient. It’s not sloppy or rushed. He isn’t trying to clumsily cop a feel the whole time, though, you think you’d probably let him and that he wouldn’t fumble around at all. It feels like he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he doesn’t.
You hope that you feel natural to him too.
He pulls back with a slow hum of appreciation and that’s good enough for you.. When your eyes meet, you’re both smiling, and Mingyu takes that as his good sign. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side until he feels your body relax against his and you finish the movie just like that.
Well, you’re both looking at the screen but you’re more focused on the way he continues to kiss your hair every few minutes and he’s locked on to the feeling of your nails gently drawing a line up and down his thigh.
Eventually, the lights come on and you’re a little slow to untangle as the rest of the theater clears out. It’s entirely empty by the time either of you hit the stairs.
“Soooo,” Mingyu hums, trailing behind you half a step, “Thoughts…opinions…? On the movie, of course.”
You laugh without turning around and nod your head, “Right…the movie, yeah. Just as the trailer promised,” you focus on your feet moving a step at a time and not tripping, “Perfectly executed action sequences.”
He grins to himself, tucking his chin into his chest. “I’m glad it lived up to all the hype,” he balances his weight on one foot before taking the next step, “Nothing worse than all that anticipation ending in disappointment.”
You peer over your shoulder at him, smiling coyly, “Oh, no disappointment here. I’m sure i’ll be thinking about it for quite some time.”
He huffs out a laugh, “Are we talking about the movie or the kiss?”
“What kiss?” you smirk, quickly turning around to hurry down the rest of the steps but he’s right behind you the whole way.
Just as you whip around the corner and into the dim hallway that leads to the exit, Mingyu catches you around the waist and pins you up against the wall. You can feel his heart thudding under your palms, the thrill of excitement hardly contained in his chest as his lips crash into yours.
Disappointment is so very far from your realm of feeling at the moment. Any expectation you had, which admittedly was already pretty high, was shattered and elevated yet another level each time his tongue danced across the seam of your lips or when his hands made another pass over your body.
From the beginning, you theorized that Mingyu was more than just a smooth talker. You had him pegged as a man with follow-through and you’re simply rolling in it, knowing you were right, and now you’re experiencing it for yourself which makes things that much more gratifying.
Mingyu was a certified lover boy. Called and confirmed it.
The very best part, you think to yourself as you feel him grin against your lips, is that he’s yours…or at least, he wants to be. You don’t have to let him know he’s already won.
He’s still smiling when you slide your hands over his arms, pointedly squeezing the ample muscle there, and he finishes you off with a few final, fluttering kisses.
When your eyes meet, there is a buzz of nervous laughter and Mingyu again asks, “So, the movie or the kiss?”
Your gaze drifts back down to his mouth and your stomach twists torturously when his knowing smirk reveals a prettily pointed canine. The same that’s bitten into your bottom lip a few times already this evening. You look back up and narrow your eyes playfully, “I don’t recall any kissi-”
He leans back down, slotting his lips against yours and the second he so much as breathes the door at the end of the hall clicks open and you hear two voices, likely the staff coming to clean the theater, and here you two delinquints are still splattered against the wall playing tonsil hockey.
Mingyu freezes and your eyes are wide as saucers. “Go, go around the other way!”
You have to slip out from under his frame and drag him a few feet before his mind catches up and you’re both scrambling back across the theater to the exit on the opposite side. As quietly as you can, you peek out of the small window to make sure the coast is clear and pop the door open for you both to come tumbling out.
The wide corridor outside the theater is mercifully empty but the adrenaline in your bodies’ leaves you jogging toward the side exit, laughter bubbling up and out into the open space around you. It’s all so silly and exhilarating, and when Mingyu grabs your hand, pulling you through the doors out into that warm summer air, you’re sure you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so…alive.
Or maybe there is just something about the moon and stars, and the way their enchanting glow seems to make everything in their wake just a little more beautiful. He’s one of those things - bright, beautiful, feathered and soft around the edges.
You’ve stopped to catch your breath but it remains trapped in your chest the longer you look at him. It’s suddenly a little heavy, this crush of yours, weighed down by impression of his hands on your hips, your face, the small of your back. Flirting and teasing was easy. Agreeing to finally go out with him was easy. Realizing the potential for more was real and standing in front of you was a shock to your system because you’re uncovering very quickly how much you want that with him.
“We should definitely go to dairy queen.”
It takes a minute to process his words and then with a little shake, you lift your head to find Mingyu smiling back down at you. “Feels like the movie might have left you with a lot to think about and nothing helps me sort through my head quite like ice cream.”
You cock your head to the side, the tension in your chest evaporating just like that.
“Have you always this charming?”
“When I put in the extra effort, which is only for you, sure,” he chuckles, using your joined hands to pull you a little closer as you walk alongside eachother through the parking lot, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea though.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” you scoff, bumping into his arm with your shoulder, “Everyone loves you. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”
His tongue pokes into his cheek, rolling his eyes skyward, “You missed the guy I had to escort out of the rink a couple weeks ago who took a few swings at me in the parking lot. Pretty sure he was not enthralled by my dazzling smile and strapping good looks.”
“One person…that’s all you got?”
Reaching his car, Mingyu opens the passenger door for you and waits until you’re seated and looking up at him expectantly. He licks his lips and smirks, “Buckle up, you’re in for a ride.”
After grabbing ice cream, you decided making your date drive over to the shore was favorable to sitting on the sticky red tables outside the DQ, so instead, you’re sitting side by side on a small gym towel he miraculously had in his trunk, eating your deserts and swapping stories to the tune of the gentle waves crashing ashore.
So far, you’ve learned that the sole reason Mingyu got into hockey in the first place was because he was in constant trouble as a kid…in school, at home, or literally anywhere else he happened to be. His poor mother tried to put him in every sport and hobby she could think of to keep him busy and out of trouble but baseball wasn’t a fit, basketball ended in another fist fight and suspension, football benched a few and landed one kid in the hospital, and any form of martial arts was out of the question.
Finally, she found an ad in the newspaper for boy’s hockey team tryouts and the rest was history. You can clearly hear the admiration in his voice when he spoke about his original coach and his teammates. How it was touch and go from the start but no matter how much hot water he found himself in, they wouldn’t quit on him. When he realized that, he started pouring all of his pent up energy into the game and it changed him in all the best ways. It’s the whole reason he coaches today…to be someone who can make a positive change in a kid’s life the way his coach did for him.
Honestly, it’s hard to imagine Mingyu as anything other than the kind, gentle, playful guy you know him to be but everyone grows and changes. He still has a wild sort of glint in his eyes at times that lead you to believe every word he’s said about his younger years.
The sea breeze is crisp and almost a little chilly despite the warm air it mixes with so you push a little closer into Mingyu’s side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Cold?”
“A bit,” you roll your head toward him, resting it against the crook of his shoulder, “Kinda just wanted to be close to you again…despite your delinquent past, I think I like you a little.”
“A little?” he smirks, eyes darting to your mouth briefly, “I think you like me a lot.”
Scrunching your nose, you make a face at him and he tosses his head back and laughs.
“If you don’t admit it soon I’m going to have to make a huge, probably embarrassing, for you, romantic gesture,” he counters, looking very half-serious, “A big old fashioned declaration of love…in public…loudly.”
“You’re still a little shit, aren’t you?”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t loving the reformed bad boy thing.” He’s spot on because Mingyu is the exact kind of guy you would have had a crush on back then too.
You let out a long sigh and pick your head up, leaning to the side to bury your now-empty cup in the sand so it doesn’t blow away just like Mingyu had on his side. In the process, Mingyu slips his arm a little lower on your back, his hand curled around your hip to keep you balanced. You love every single point of contact so you fall right back into his side when you sit up again.
“To be fair, I think you’re only partly reformed,” more smirking, “Mhm, that’s exactly what I mean,” you hum in amusement, “Listen, I’ll give in…just a little…and admit that there are a lot of things I love about you..”
“I’m listening,” he purrs, ready for the boost in confidence you’re surely about to give him. Anything that could even vaguely resemble a compliment would send him over the moon coming from you.
“I love the way…you genuinely enjoy helping people,” you start quietly, soothing the subtle nerves beginning to tingle in your fingertips, “I love that you put so much time and effort into coaching your kids and how much you love talking about them…how you’ll roll your eyes and shake your head telling me stories about them and yet you always finish with a smile because ‘they’re a handful but they’re good kids’”
Mingyu snorts softly and you knowingly ask, “There’s lots of little Mingyu’s on your team, aren’t there?”
He nods slowly, pushing the tip of his tongue against his teeth. “Ohhh yeahhh,” he breathes out with a light chuckle, “I understand now why my coach made me run drills until I dropped. I’ve got a couple that have already outshined my reputation at their age and some days it’s a battle of wills but they’ve come along way,” he ducks his head, grinning, “Hoping they’re the extent of my karma and it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass when I have kids one day.”
He makes a face right after he says it and looks down at you almost apologetically, “Was that weird to say on a first date? I feel like that’s something you’re supposed to avoid but you’re easy to talk to and words just fall out of my mouth sometimes.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” you laugh, quirking an eyebrow at him, “I know it’s a first date but we’re not strangers, besides, I’ve always just assumed you were a family kind of guy. You talk about yours all the time, super close with your little sister, and from all i’ve witnessed, you’re just kinda great with kids in general,” you shrug, easing his worry, “I promise, it’s not a shock to me that you’d want your own and I’ll save you the torture of wondering whether to ask or not…yes, I’d like to have kids someday. Someday farrrrr away in the future.”
“Oh, good,” he chuckles, “Me too...lightyears away.”
It’s not on either of your radars currently but it’s nice to know that you have common goals for the future. It leaves a brief pause in the conversation, though not an uncomfortable one. Just a quiet moment to soak things in.
First date, first kiss(es), and it’s all going…perfectly.
It’s one thing to flirt and banter with a cute co-worker but taking the leap and going on a date together is a whole different game. There are very real feelings on both sides of the court and the potential for something real and permanent is so palpable you can feel it pushing you closer to one another. Leap again. Put yourself out there and trust the other will catch you.
Mingyu breaks the silence first and you feel his fingers twitch against your back.
“I really like you,” he says steadily, like that was the easy part, “I think you’re beautiful inside and out, stop laughing i’m being serious,” he grins and you try to reel it in for his sake, “My first day on the job I was blatantly called out and laughed at by Wonwoo after he caught me spacing out and staring at you for the third time…I don’t think I even made it an hour into my shift before I was hooked.”
“Oh, I thought you were being serious?” you grin.
“Shhhh,” he counters, “I’m not done.”
“Where was I? Oh yeah…you’re a good friend and a good person, and I like having you in my life,” he says softly, picking up your hand and pulling it into his lap, “I want to bring you home to meet my family so my mom can drag out the photo albums the way she’s always joked about doing while my sister spends the whole time telling you embarrassing things about me. They would like like you a lot. The boys on my team already like you.”
“Oh?”
He laughs, “Oh yeah, they’re always in my business and I made the mistake of bringing you up at a practice once so you’re a regular topic of discussion. I should have known I was doomed from then on and they’re brutal sometimes. One kid called me a loser because he’s fourteen and has a girlfriend and I don’t.”
“Is that how you’re asking me out? Trying to get the sympathy vote because you’re getting picked on by a bunch of kids?” you smirk.
“Maybe…is it working?” he asks, gaze dipping to your mouth for the millionth time tonight.
“I don’t know yet,” you inch a little closer, “Maybe you should try softening me up a little more before you ask again.”
He pauses, hovering just a breadth away from your face and his open mouth pulls into a sly grin, “By any means necessary?”
“Do what you have to do I suppos-”
“Niiccceee hickey.”
You slap a hand over the mark you swore you’d covered well enough with concealor, apparently not, and whip your head in Vernon’s direction. “Can you not announce it loud enough for everyone to hear?”
Vernon glances side to side. “There is literally no one except us in here and that thing announced itself.”
“What thing?”
Wonwoo comes in and drops his bag on the wooden bench, pulling out his uniform top to shrug over his shoulders. His glasses sit askew on his face and you really hope he’s got good insurance because they’re always in awful shape.
You turn and press your forehead against the cool metal of your locker door and Vernon chuckles, stowing his things noisely. “The physical evidence to prove that her date went abundantly well.”
Wonwoo smirks, walking closer to pry your hand away from your neck. He whistles. “Damn, Mingyu’s a biter…not surprised. Good luck hiding that thing - it’s going to be with you for a while.”
“Ok. Hickey expert. Thanks for your input,” you grumble.
He shrugs. “We all have interests and hobbies, and you’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes and turn around, leaning back against your locker with a pout. “I’m kinda nervous that we’re working together tonight for the first time since we went out. Do you think it will be weird?”
Vernon makes a goofy face. “Why would it be weird? I thought you said everything went well and you’re like, dating now? Did something happen?”
“No, everything was great,” you slump down a little further, “Like…too great. I’m trying not to jinx things or be weird. Are we too old to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend? Is that a thing for adults? Or did we grow out of that after high school?”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, fixing the notch on his belt, “No, we’re not too old for that. He’s your boyfriend. You’re his girlfriend. Simple.”
“Is it?” you reply with a unintentional snap that doesn’t phase either of them.
Vernon sits on the bench in front of you and stretches his back out, groaning like an old man. “Yes, simple. You like him and he likes you, and you have fun together. I fail to see the problem.”
“Yeah, that’s like, the opposite of a problem,” Wonwoo agrees, “Besides…being left alone in the rink after hours sounds mighty convenient if you ask me.”
Snapping your jaw shut, your eyes widen, “What exactly are you suggesting?”
Wonwoo smirks, “I’m not suggesting anything but an opportunist would use their imagination.”
Both you and Vernon peg Wonwoo with a suspicious stare.
“With all due respect,” you say slowly, your eyebrow steadily raising with each word, “I didn’t think you rolled like that.”
“Neither did I,” Vernon adds, equally intrigued.
“You’re kind of a freak, aren’t you?”
“Who’s a freak?”
All three of you startle and whirl around to see Mingyu coming through the door. His hair is wet, likely freshly showered after hockey practice, and he’s looking at each of you with a clueless grin.
“Nothing and no one!” you reply with a grin, already floating toward the hunk in the doorway, “Hi.”
“Hi,” he grins down at you, “I see you and I got stuck closing tonight.”
You swallow down the knot in your throat and hold up a middle finger behind your back directed at Vernon and Wonwoo’s snickering.
“Yep,” you bounce on your toes, “Just you and I…closing everything down…together…tonight.”
Mingyu’s lips pinch together to hold in a laugh. You were always so bold and confident when it came to teasing him and now, he can tell you’re having to make a great effort to hold it all together. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he chooses, satisfied when your eyes widen just a touch, “I think Jim’s looking for you by the way. If you’re done getting-”
“Yes,” you squeeze his arms and then move past him at lightening speed, rushing out the door.
Mingyu just stands there and laughs quietly before looking up to see the grin on Vernon and Wonwoo’s faces. “Alright, how much did she tell you?”
“Didn’t have to tell us much at all.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “The bite marks you left told us everything we needed to know.”
Mingyu’s eyes drop to the floor as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’s glad the ones you left on him are covered by his collar because he just barely got away with blaming it on equipment mishandling when one of the older boys in his youth league pointed one out with a mischievous laugh.
Vernon claps a hand over his shoulder on his way out the door causing Mingyu to look back up again. “Happy for you, dude. She’s a good one.”
Mingyu smiles softly, “Thanks, man.”
When he leaves, Mingyu pushes further into the room and starts getting himself situated, glancing over at Wonwoo every now and then like he’s waiting for him to say something.
“I can feel you staring,” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes now glued to his Game Boy Pocket as he tries to save his progress from earlier.
Mingyu shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, pushing his bag into his locker.
Wonwoo puts his game down and looks up. “Whaddaya want, Hot Wheels?”
He pauses, making a face at the nickname, and then carefully asks, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is it for me to-”
Wonwoo sighs and leans back a touch, both hands gripping the edge of the bench beneath him. “To be fair, that’s exactly what I’d be thinking about if I were in your position. Empty building…gorgeous girlfriend…”
Mingyu scoffs, “Alright, easy…”
He gets a smirk in return and Wonwoo stands, stretching his long limbs. “I’m not wrong and also not interested in your girl so relax,” he leans down and tugs on the laces of his skates and then straightens out, “You both think too much. Just be normal. Do the same lovey dovey, flirty shit you always do and see how the night goes.”
“You’re kind of good at this,” Mingyu compliments, his lips pulling into a half-smirk, “What do you get up to when you’re off the clock and not playing big brother of the year?”
Nearing the door, Wonwoo just turns over his shoulder and tosses Mingyu a wink.
He’s handed out enough advice for one night.
You were still jittery when Mingyu joined you out on the floor but falling into the same routine was pretty simple, just like Vernon and Wonwoo said, and it took loads of anxious tension off your shoulders. If anything, Mingyu was more playful with his teasing and a little more bold with his physical affection when others weren’t paying attention.
It was like a game of how flustered he could make you without getting in trouble for fooling around on the job. The floor was crowded which simply meant he got to stay a little closer to you without looking suspicious which allowed him to find out how fun it was to pull you around by the belt loops of your pants.
He loved the little noise of surprise you let out every time he snuck up behind you, hooking his finger through the loop to tug you back against his chest where he pretended to tell you something important. Like he was just trying to talk to you over the sound of the music when he had nothing but more teasing to whisper in your ear.
The hours flew by unnoticed and before long, you were bidding your last goodbyes to the rest of the staff having finished their own cleaning and closing duties.
Mingyu went into the office to toy with the audio system after you asked to throw something on just so it wasn’t silent in the big dark building while you followed Vernon and Wonwoo to the doors to lock up after them.
Vernon shifts his bag on his shoulder and cuts a sideways glance in your direction. “You gonna be okay?”
You shrug, touched and confused he’d asked. “Yeah, I’ve closed up a million times. All good.”
Wonwoo pats the top of your head like a puppy. They both have a habit of that.
“He meant, are you gonna be okay here alone with Mingyu? Are you comfortable with us leaving - not that I think he’d ever do something to hurt or upset you…I’d kill him and he knows it…but you give us the word and we’ll stay.”
“Oh,” you blink and wave your hands dismissively, “No, we’re good! I was just worried about being a loser earlier but we’re totally fine!”
“We thought so,” Vernon grins, pushing the glass door open, “Just checking.”
It’s sweet and embarrassing that they’d thought to ask and you tell them as much as you gently push Vernon through the doorway. “Thought for a minute you were finally ready to confess,” you joke, fake pout on your lips and all, “I’ll drop him like a hot potato if you ask, Nonnie.”
Wonwoo follows him out and laughs, “You’re full of shit but I’m sure he appreciates the sentiment. By the way, if you find yourself in need…Jihoon keeps condoms in his locker.”
You slap a hand over your mouth, covering your shocked laughter. “First of all, mind your business and second, what the hell?!”
Vernon shrugs, “Man likes to be prepared I guess!”
….Line cooks are one of a kind. Truly.
You’re shaking your head as they wave goodbye and walk off toward Wonwoo’s car as it must have been his turn to carpool. Pulling the doors shut, you carefully lock each one and double check them before turning on your heel and then the music cuts on over the speakers. It’s not crazy loud but enough to keep the odd sounds that accompany a big old building from rattling in your ears.
Mingyu pops his head out of the office when you round the corner and you cock your head in question, “Beastie Boys?”
“Couldn’t get the discs to work so radio it is,” he shrugs, “I can find something else if you want.”
You shake your head, brushing past his shoulder into the small office to sit down and reconcile the financials for the night. “I’m not picky. Did you already grab the bags from the registers?”
He nods, “Yep, everything’s there and Jim left the keys for the safe in the desk,” Mingyu squeezes your shoulders when you sit down and you smile up at him. “I’m going to knock out the kitchen and rental walk-throughs while you count if that’s okay? After that we will just have shut down the arcade and I can take out the left over trash bags.”
“That would be amazing,” you tell him, head still cushioned against the office chair as you smile lazily up at him, “I just love a man that knows how to take charge and get the job done.”
He immediately chokes out a laugh and turns on his heel muttering something about how ‘he’s not going to get anything done if you keep that up’ as he walks away.
It takes another full minute to bring the task at hand back into focus and you have to consciously fight off the intrusive inappropriate thoughts clouding your brain when it’s supposed to be crunching numbers. You even have to recount a few bags because the image of Mingyu sitting you on the desk you’re working at to do dirty things with you keeps popping into your head and it’s getting harder and harder to focus. After probably twice the amount of time it usually takes you to do the financials, you’re finally done and locking the safe when Mingyu returns.
“Oh, hey,” you perk up when you notice him in the doorway, “Ready to go do the arcade?”
“Already done,” he snickers, “I came back after walk-throughs and caught you cursing and restarting your counts so I just went ahead and finished up the list.”
“Oh!” you shift on your feet, “...guess we’re all done then.”
Mingyu crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame looking extra swoon-worthy. Not a single poster of your favorite 80s and 90s heartthrobs plastered to the walls of your old bedroom held a candle to the picture in front of you and he knows it.
“You sound disappointed. I’m sure we could find other things to do if you wanna stay a little longer,” his eyes shift over to the audio system, still playing a mix of alternative and pop hits, and fixes his eyes back on you, “Ever considered making out with someone in an empty skating rink with No Doubt playing over the speakers?”
“Can’t say I have. What about you?”
Mingyu grins, shifting his weight to tower over you, “Thought just now crossed my mind.”
He slides one hand beneath your jaw and the other over your hip, slotting his lips against yours as he walks you back until you bump into the desk behind you. After teasing you with your belt loops all night, you decide to return the favor, licking at the seam of his lips as you hook your fingers in his front loops and pull him closer. He laughs against your lips and pulls back to meet your eyes. “That’s my move.”
“I liked it, so I think I’ll steal it,” you smirk, tugging at the loops still.
“We should probably get our things and head out before I do something stupid and incredibly irresponsible,” he chuckles though there is a very real edge to his tone like he’s trying hard to behave himself right now.
“What kind of stupid and irresponsible things?” you test him, releasing his belt loops to hook your index finger into the waist band of his pants instead, “I might be interested.”
The hand on your hip squeezes and he bites out a laugh. “Who’s the delinquent now?”
“Still you, but I recounted those bags because I kept getting interrupted by steamy office fantasies popping into my head so if you’d rather take me home before we make questionable decisions, we should probably leave now.”
He groans, torn between having to wait or giving in and having you right here, right now. The cons would be that it’s A.) your work place, B.) it’s not the cleanest place to hook up, and C.) he has to wait when his body is begging him otherwise.
As luck has it, you decide for him.
“Can we go to your place? My roommate is home tonight and she’s got hard rules against hooking up when the other is home. She doesn’t even really like when I have friends over but her name is on the lease so I don’t argue much.”
Mingyu shuts off his internal debate processing, grateful to have you choose for the both of you. “My roommates work the late shift at the bar on 89th so they will probably come home at some point but they don’t care about guests…or girlfriends. We respect that rule in regards to privacy.”
“Ugh,” you rolls your eyes, relaxing in his hold, “That must be so nice. Got an extra room at your place?”
“Got plenty of space for you in mine,” he smirks, “Alright let me grab our bags from the locker room and we’ll get out of here. Did you drive?”
You shake your head, moving to turn off the audio system, “No, I took the bus today.”
“Sweet, we’ll take my car home and won’t have to worry about leaving yours.”
It’s funny how you’re both being so casual at the moment as if you weren’t pinned up against the desk, debating whether you should desecrate the business office, and now you’re both going about your normal routines as if you didn’t just agree that you’re leaving to go directly to his place to hook up for the first time.
It catches up with you when Mingyu pulls up to the front of his shared beach house and cuts the engine. You look at the light blue house and catch the subtle sounds of the ocean not far off. “I had no idea you lived on the island,” you share as you get out of the car and walk together toward the door.
Mingyu hands you the key and takes your bag so you can open the door. “Yeah, we’ve been here about a year now. Used to share a condo a little further in but we spend a lot of time at the beaches here so when this place opened up we snagged it as quick as we could.”
Pushing inside, it’s exactly what you imagine a triad of bachelors to live in. Everything is clean but the couch is a futon, there are two cd towers filled with music you’d love to check out, a few bean bag chairs, a stereo system big enough to take up half a wall, and theres a couple of empty corona bottles spread on the low table in the living room next to a few gaming controllers.
Mingyu groans when he sees them and glances over apologetically. “I definitely asked them to clean those up when I left this morning. You’d think a couple of bartenders would know how to recycle empty beer bottles. I swear we have manners.”
You laugh and follow him to what you assume is his bedroom down the hall. He opens the door and drops both bags next to his dresser before flicking on a lamp. “Wasn’t expecting to bring you back here so I am glad my cleaning habits are something of use,” he pulls open a drawer and grabs a random t-shirt before handing it to you, “Here, you can wear this if you want and I’ll show you where the bathroom is…I just uhhh..I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable changing out of your uniform.”
You raise a brow at him, “What? My Dickies and pinstrip ref polo aren’t sexy enough for you?”
He smirks back, “Anything you wear is sexy enough for me but the sex and dating column in Cosmopolitan’s spring magazine says a woman’s comfort comes before all else and is the key to a healthy, thriving relationship.”
“You read Cosmo?”
He shrugs, “Had to pick my mom and sister up at the hair salon and got there on time which was apparently thirty minutes early. There was nothing else to do.”
“Learn anything else?” you ask just before he leaves you at the bathroom door.
Mingyu tugs the frosty bleached tips of his hair. “Learned six new ways to accesorize with butterfly clips and that my horoscope for last month was only half correct,” he grins, “Let me know if you need anything, babe, i’m gonna use the other bathroom to clean up.”
You mumble back an OK and shut the door, bumping into the counter. “Babe?” you repeat quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror.
The reality of you having a super-hot-hockey-player boyfriend who is also insanely sweet and volunteers his free time to coach a youth league, and is an amazing kisser, and the kind of guy that calls you babe, crashes into you completely and you’re scrambling to clean yourself up, change, steal some mouthwash, and give yourself a full pep talk before you emerge god knows how long later.
Following the same path back to Mingyu’s room, you pause at the door and take a deep breath before re-entering his space.
He’s laying in his bed tossing a small blue ball up and down with one hand while he waits. You’re pleased to see that he decided not to put a shirt on, lounging only in a pair of basketball shorts, because you also decided to ditch half your clothing. The opposite half.
The ball lands in his palm with an audible smack and he looks up when you step into his room, closing the door behind you.
“Wait right there,” he throws out a hand as you take a step closer and you hesitate, “I just want to burn this image into my memory for all of eternity.”
Rolling your eyes with a soft laugh, you walk the rest of the way over to Mingyu who reaches for your hand and pulls you up onto his bed to straddle his lap comfortably. His hands move up and down your thighs and he’s smiling at you all the while. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighs and then shakes his head when you try to brush him off. “Genuinely. I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You’re not even wearing pants to get into.”
He’s amusing and captivating when he’s like this, hands exploring every inch of exposed skin, chest pressed against yours, his face turned up as he looks at you with that white-hot gaze. It further drives your need to touch and feel him so you wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely, letting your fingers dance over the muscle in his back.
Mingyu’s eyes flutter closed, only for a moment as your nails trail over his spine, and you smile to yourself, overjoyed with the feeling of his body beneath yours.
“This feels a little surreal,” you speak quietly and he hums in response, setting his eyes back on your face, “I mean…”
“Ahhhhhh,” he grins, lacing his fingers together where his hands rest on your lower back, kept warm under your shirt, “Because you’ve been dreaming about me every night since we met?”
“Something like that,” you sigh and Mingyu shuts up, not expecting you to give in so easily. You pinch the hair at the nape of his neck tugging it nervously, “You should probably kiss me before I say something even more embarrassing.”
Mingyu chuckles and his eyes dip to your mouth. He captures your lips easily, moving his hands against the planes of your back as he kisses you until your mind clouds over.
His hair is soft between your fingers, the silly frosted ends tickling your skin when you give a little experimental tug. Wonwoo teased him endlessly for falling for the fad but you had to admit you liked it on him.
You’d probably like anything on him though. Besides, it wasn’t long before Wonwoo broke down and tried it too albeit a bit more subtle and less Backstreet Boys.
Mingyu braces his forearm behind your hips and tugs. His skin is hot and he keeps you still against him, not like you plan on shifting away, but the need to be touched, held…anchored to him is met without needing to ask. It feeds into your confidence allowing you to move more freely, rolling your hips, arching your back until your chest is pushing into his and he just can’t stand the fabric in the middle.
The shirt he’d given you doesn’t even fully hit the ground before his arms are wrapped around your body again and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips trailing over your throat, shoulders, collar bones. Whatever he can reach without letting go.
A sharp gasp hits the air when his tongue dips to the base of your throat and he closes his lips over that same spot with a kiss. Thighs trembling, you hope he doesn’t comment on the pathetic way your cunt squeezes around nothing. He says nothing though. Instead, he groans deep in his chest and his hands tighten possesively.
Then he does it again, and again. He encourages your real, raw reactions, full intending to pull them from you until you let go of whatever mental block is keeping you from letting him know exactly how much you love the way he makes you feel.
Pretty soon he succeeds and you’re no longer trying to hold yourself together, holding your breath, or trying to be quiet.
Mingyu drags his teeth along your collarbones and grins at the soft hum you let out, so at odds with the way your body jumps at the sharp sensation.
“You like that, huh?”
It take an extra few seconds to process his words, brain near mush from his attention.
“So you do like it,” Mingyu laughs, pecking a small kiss to your shoulder, “What else do you like?”
You’ve only just now formed a response to his first question and now he’s asking another and he’s smirking. It’s almost like he’s doing it on purpose…
Your mouth pops open to say something, what that might have been, you’ll never know because at the same time, Mingyu leans back a little and drags your hips over his, grinding his erection against your sensitive cunt. “You like that?”
At this point, you give up on words and just nod your head fervently. Yes, I fucking like that.
His hands ghost up your sides until his thumbs are brushing against your breasts. He pauses, testing the water before diving in, and he catches the hitch in your breath. The way your head drops back just a touch like all this is making you a little dizzy. He leans forward and presses a kiss against your sternum before falling back against the pillows to take in the full picture.
You, perched in his lap with your back arched, pushing your aching breasts into his hands to play with. It’s the exact shit he’s fallen victim to in a wet dream but this is real and far better because here you are, in the flesh, gripping onto his wrists and rocking your hips against him for an inkling of relief from how much he’s turned you on.
It’s wearing his patience down and is going to bite him in the ass if he doesn’t move things along. He prematurely finished one time and it still haunted him at night. Never again.
Hopefully.
Mingyu makes a miraculous maneuver, with you landing on your back at his side, somehow, without twisting or pinning someone’s limb in the process.
“That was very smooth.”
You’re staring back up at him in wonder, partly because you’re not used to being tossed around like that, but also because he’s looking down at you with a serious, heated expression and it’s making your heart beat a little too fast.
“Can I touch you?” he askes softly and you’re immediately nodding. “Yeah?” he mimics the motion in a daze, eyes glued to your mouth, “Come here.”
Easy. You kiss him, well, it’s pretty equal efforts but you get to him first, too impatient to wait even half a second more. His hand moves over your hip slowly, then shifts to brush against your naval where he rests it for a moment, heat from his skin seeping into yours.
He’s planning on making good on his request, though you beat him to it again.
Mingyu parts his lips with a sigh when he feels your hand slide over his. Your fingers curl around his palm and you guide his hand lower. He asked to touch you and then made you wait - whether it be on purpose or just his own nerves - you’ll help him help you.
He doesn’t seem to mind and rewards you instantly with his thick fingers rubbing against your cunt through your panties. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan and his brows knit together right as the sound hits his ears. His gaze is unwavering and you almost wish he would just kiss you again instead of studying your face this closely…then his middle finger presses down a little harder and the sound you let out that time makes the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smirk.
It doesn’t even slip away when he leans down and kisses you, his smirk still obviously tugging at his lips when they touch yours. His hand pushes inside your underwear and he groans into your mouth when he feels how wet and warm you are but he doesn’t have time to waste or savor the feeling because he needs you to cum on his fingers at least once before he fucks you and his will to wait it out is all but gone.
You’re responsive to every stroke, gasping and whimpering, digging your nails into his arm. Your back arches up off the bed every time he pumps his fingers faster, rubbing them up against your g-spot with expert ease because, hell yeah he reads cosmo, he’s too fucking good at it to not have been guided by the devine-feminine mind.
Mingyu’s mouth envelopes one of your nipples and his tongue rolls against it at almost the same pace and pattern he’s rubbing your own slick into your clit and that’s enough to send you over the edge. He tries to be patient, to let you come down before he goes reaching for a condom but he catches the time on his digital alarm clock, the numbers glaring at him in bright red.
It was already past midnight meaning having the house to himself is ending relatively soon.
You don’t need the extra recovery time though, in fact, it’s the opposite. What you need is more and you need it now. “Mingyu…” he hums in response and you will your mouth to work again, “Do you even play basketball?”
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. Poking your tongue in your cheek you nod and point to his shorts, “...Off.”
Mingyu grins as he leans down and kisses you before rolling out of bed and your lips turn up into a smile, a breathless laugh floating up into the air. He drops his shorts and steps out in white Calvin Kleins stretched taut over his golden thighs, showing off every inch of his assets, and you have to prop yourself up on your elbows to even get the full picture.
Move over Marky Mark.
You’re too busy staring at Mingyu’s body to notice him taking the opportunity to appreciate yours. It’s just a brief moment to sate both your curiosities because though neither of you would prefer to admit it, you’ve thought about each other naked and probably more than once. Getting handsy on your date gave you a bit of an idea but the overwhelmingly obvious dick print staring you in the face at the moment confirms your indecent theory about what Mingyu might be packing…
And that has got to be the ‘Pony’ Ginuwine was singing about.
When your eyes meet somewhere in the middle, you both turn away quickly, embarrassed only slightly for getting caught. It was a good feeling to know that the attraction is mutual. You hear a drawer close softly and feel the dip in the bed when he slides under the covers next to you. Rolling over, you land almost nose to nose and Mingyu grins, “I like it when you check me out.”
You answer him with a kiss that starts out innocently enough but it’s such a dizzying sensation to be so wrapped up in him that whatever witty retort you had been thinking of is lost in the way his fingers squeeze into your side. He sighs against your lips when he drags you closer and your thigh settles high on his hip, wrapping your body around him tightly. Without thought or hesitation, he drives his pelvis forward, rubbing his erection into your sensitive cunt.
It makes you break for air, drawing too much of it into your lungs just to sharply moan through the exhale when he doesn’t stop. The muscles in his arms are so taut beneath your fingers that you know he’s not doing it to tease you - he’s at his breaking point and really just can’t help himself.
One hand slides down and pushes against the waistband of his briefs, rolling the material down as best you can until it catches his attention so his can finish the job himself. He groans, mostly to acknowledge your intentions, but also because he’s slowly trying to reel himself back for a moment. Just long enough to peel the last bits of clothing off you both and get a rubber on. It’s probably one of the most ridiculously inconvenient things he’s been made to do in a long time.
Neither of you say a word as he rips open the foil, trying to keep his hands still enough to roll the condom on correctly. It feels like static in his veins, trying to sit still when everything inside his body is screaming go, go, go! You can feel it too, the buzz of anticipation, the pulse between your thighs.
Then, there is a pause after he rolls back over, covering your bare body with his own, and he just looks at you for a moment, mouth tight. Your hands slide over his arms, up his shoulders, and settle on his face. “Everything ok?”
“Just wanna do this right,” he whispers back, turning his face to kiss the palm of your hand.
The corners of your lips lift in a small smile. “Feels pretty right to me, if that helps.”
The tension in his shoulders melts away and he relaxes his pinched brows. “It does help,” he says, one big hand stroking the outside of your thigh around his waist, “Just…talk to me if there is anything you want or don’t like.”
“I will,” you reassure him and he eyes you wearily one more time until you sigh, “I promise.”
That seems to be enough for him as he shifts between your legs and you let your hands fold over his shoulders, trying hopelessly to relax your body when you feel his fingers on you again. He doesn’t keep them there long, just enough to make sure you’re still wet before he’s gripping his cock, guiding himself into your heat.
The pressure is immense and Mingyu feels you tense up beneath him. He pulls his other arm up and shifts his weight over to one side, grabbing your face with his free hand. “Breathe,” he says quietly, tipping your face up to look at him, “Just breathe, baby.”
Easier said than done but you exhale shakily and his thumb brushes against your cheek. Mingyu draws his hips back slightly and pushes further in, eyes falling to your mouth when it pops open. The feeling of fullness is all encompassing and all you can think about. So full you might burst at the seams but again, you will yourself to relax and he finally, finally bottoms out.
You let out a sharp breath and just can’t seem to catch it.
Mingyu seems unsure of whether he should move or not and he barely gets the question out before you’re nodding. The first few thrusts are still tender and he’s still mindful of that but after a minute or so, the tides turn and you’re digging your heels into his backside, pulling him deeper.
Mentally, emotionally, physically deeper.
He’s a romantic through and through, including in times like this where he’s drunk on pussy and pure infatuation. He can’t get enough. The way you feel around him, clinging to his body, hands against his chest, eyes glued to his. He’s in severely dangerous territory and clamps his lips shut until the words sitting there fizzle out. Patience is what he needs. In his mind and in his heart.
His body is on an entirely different page.
Mingyu is smooth and consistent in his movements, like water in and around you. His name spills from your lips reverently, whispered into the air between you and it feeds him, pushes him to fufill your needs in a way you knew deep down he would. He’s a pleaser in every way.
So, when you slow him down with your palms firmly planted against his chest, he stops and listens. His attentiveness almost makes it harder to speak.
“Can I uh…like would you mind if I…laid on my stomach?” you ask unevenly, not really sure why you’re hesitating to share what you want when that is what he’s asked of you.
Mingyu looks like he’s died and gone to heaven. He doesn’t even answer. Carefully, he pulls out and moves so he can roll you over, prop your hips up, and fill you right back up. This time there is no slow start. His hand settles on your back, just between your shoulder blades, and he holds you there, pinning you in place in such a way that your eyes close on contact. Perfectly content to stay put.
The room is filled with lewd noises. Skin slapping against skin. Deep grunting and moaning sounds mixed together. Your muffled voice chanting his name over and over again. Mingyu’s quiet praises tickling your ears when your head turns fuzzy.
It’s a good thing no one is home because it’s almost embarrassing how loudly passionate you both are. You regret not asking Mingyu to turn on the radio to drown out the noise but it’s too late now and with another tug upwards on your hips, he’s stroking your walls just right and you hit an entirely new set of notes.
Mingyu can feel you squeezing around him, mewling into his pillows and he’s hanging on for dear life because you’re still skirting around the edge and he’s seconds from toppling over. An idea pops into his head, a catch twenty-two really because in doing this, he puts himself at further risk of finishing first but it’s still too enticing to pass up.
Somehow, he manages to roll your bodies together until he hits the mattress, successfully claiming his spot as your big spoon. He hooks his left arm under your head so that it’s rested on his bicep while his hand is free to roam your chest and his right arm snakes over your hip before you feel his middle and ring finger slip between your folds.
With you tightly wound up in his hold he picks up a brutal, finishing pace. He hits all the right spots and works your body until you’re seeing stars. Your breathing now harsh and uneven limits your ability to speak but you don’t need to say anything at all.
Mingyu knows your coming and he’s going right along with you. When your orgasm hits, you bear down against him, crying out in broken sounds as he pumps his hips through his own release. He continues to hold you against his chest, gently kneading at the fleshy part of your hip.
He presses kisses against your hair and then carefully, he pulls out before rolling you onto your back. Mingyu’s smile is adoring and beautiful, it makes you want to bury your face in the pillows again. The blanket will have to do.
“Why are you hiding?” Mingyu chuckles, grabbing at the blanket, “Was it that bad?”
You flip the sheet down and give him a blank stare.
“Shut up,” you bite, a hint of a smile appearing, “You know it was good. Better than good.”
“How good?” he smirks.
With an eye roll, you pull the blanket up just high enough to cover the lower half of your face. “Really fucking good…and you’re not even slightly winded.”
He’s on top of the world.
“My stamina is just another one of my many desirable qualities,” he half-shrugs, “If you’re still not in love with me, I’m happy to keep trying.”
“Will you stop when I do?”
“Not a chance,” he grins, one hand squeezing your thigh as he swoops in to steal another kiss, “Stay with me tonight. I’ll make you anything you want for breakfast”
You pretend to think about it when you know you’ll say yes, and not just because you don’t have a car. A sleepover? With your hot boyfriend? Who just rocked your world and will probably do it again and then cook for you in the morning? Yeah, that’s a no-brainer.
“I could probably be convinced if you find me something comfy to wear and have a spare pack of noodles…I’m starving.”
Mingyu jumps out of bed, the sight of his bare cheeks making you turn and giggle. “I’m about to make you the best noodles of your life,” he walks over to his dresser pulling out underwear for himself, a clean t-shirt, and blue-plaid pajama pants, then he tugs open another drawer and turns to you, holding out a big soft-looking jacket, “I think you’ll like this one. I don’t have any pants that will fit you but this is pretty long. Oooh,” he pauses, “I didn’t think about underwear when I-”
“Ruined mine?” you raise your brow teasingly, sitting up and making grabby hands for the sweater he tosses to you.
He scoffs, tip of his tongue poking at his teeth. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”
Your voice is muffled as you pull the sweater over your head before climbing out of bed, pleased that it indeed covers you well. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’ve learned to keep an extra pair in my bag.” You mention this so casually that he’s stunned when you walk over to grab said panties from your bag and kiss his cheek before turning to leave, “I’m gonna go clean up. Meet you in the kitchen for those mind blowing noodles?”
Mingyu hollers back as you near the bathroom door. “I’ll blow your mind in the kitchen alright!”
He slumps against the dresser when he hears you respond with, “I’m sure you will, babe!”
Babe. Ugh, you’re so it for him.
The steam of the shower mixed with some kind of masculine aroma in Mingyu’s body wash gives off the same feeling of being in his arms and the thought warms your belly again. It’s almost embarrassing, how much you want him just after having him in full, but you’re sure he’d be happy to oblige even if you so much as hinted at it.
Maybe he will blow your mind in the kitchen.
As you’re wrapping up and getting dressed you hear music, oddly loud for the hour but it’s vaguely familiar, still muffled by the sound of the vents running to air out the steam in the bathroom. Then there’s a crash, not earth shattering but enough that you’re slightly concerned. You hurry to hang your towel and pull on your clean underwear and his sweater when you hear another bump against the wall. Then…singing?
“Kiss meeee out of the bearded bobby~”
“NIGHTLYYYY beside the greanbeann grass~”
You poke your head into the hallway, “Um…Mingyu?”
“SWIIINGG SWIINNG-”
“Swing the spinnnning stem~”
Definitely not Mingyu. Also, definitely not the right words to this song but your interest is piqued.
You come around the corner to find him in the center of the living room, quietly laughing, holding the hand of one of his very jovial (probably drunk) maybe roommates while the other (definitely drunk) maybe roommate is spinning around them in circles, bumping into things along the way.
The one with bright blonde hair pokes Mingyu mid-spin, “You wear the shoes and I’ll wear a dressss~”
Then the his drinking partner joins in and their both belting out, “oOHHH Kiss meeee, beneath the melting twilight~”
Mingyu points to the blonde and shouts over the noise, “That one’s Hoshi.”
“Lead meeee, out on the moonlit flooOr!”
He gestures at the one hanging off his arm, the tall boy with shaggy black hair, “This one’s Minghao. They’re plastered, obviously.”
They’re delightful and Hoshi is coming your way with a cat-like smile. He bows, almost stumbles, and reaches for your hand which you’re happy to share. “Lift your open hand…” he serenades, lifting yours into the air, “Strike up the band and make firefights dance silver moons sparkly~”
And he spins you away so quickly you almost stumble but Mingyu catches you around the waist with Minghao singing over your shoulder in a whisper, “So, kiss me.”
And Mingyu does, of course, he’s not going to miss the opportunity. Minghao grins, leaning against the wall to catch his balance, and Hoshi claps…a little bit like a buffoon but you really like them both. Mingyu must really love them because he doesn’t complain one bit about the noise and overly dramatic show, especially with it being your first impression. It helps that he knows how laid back you are and can see the delight still dancing in your eyes.
He does however, turn down the music on the stereo so everyone can talk without shouting.
“You do know you guys are supposed to be serving the alcohol…not drinking it…right?”
“Don’t be r- *hiccup* -rude!” Hoshi flaps his hand dismissively, “I’ll tell your pretty girlfriend about all the times we had to hold your hair back, our sweet little Mingoo ~”
Minghao giggles, bumping into Hoshi’s shoulder, “Or about how you,” he pauses, the two of them bursting into hysterics as Mingyu sighs like he knows what’s coming. Minghao wipes away a tear, still cackling, “About how you got totally tanked that weekend you first started working at Wheelie’s and whined alllll nighttttt-”
Hoshi whacks Mingyu’s shoulder laughing and then looks at you, “He wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night. Crying into his beer…because he thought you were dating the DJ.”
Your hand flies over your mouth, giggling up at your boyfriend who is being a really good sport right now. Even as he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head at his friends.
“Vernon and I were never dating,” you fake sniffle, “Sadly.”
“Sadly?!” Mingyu swings his head around toward you, “I thought the soulmate thing was a joke?” he laughs.
“Oh, baby, it is a joke,” you reassure him, patting his chest gently but just when he relaxes you whisper, “Until it isn’t.”
Hoshi sticks out his hand as he’s stumbling toward the kitchen and you land a low-five as he goes, and one up top when Minghao follows behind him excitedly mumbling about making drinks for everyone, then Hoshi is shouting about noodles ‘for the love of god, we need more noodles!’
Mingyu sighs and you know he’s about to complain that he no longer has you to himself. Can practically hear it in your head already. So, you cut him off before he can start, tugging him down into a kiss hot enough to make him groan against your lips as his hands dip down to take handfuls of you.
Then he’s laughing, falling out of rythym and you pull back, smiling. “What?”
You squawk in surprise when he smacks your ass and says, “You know you’re still not wearing pants, right?”
Actually, you forgot because of the whole song and dance thing.
“That’s embarrassing,” you mumble, tugging his sweater further down your thighs, “I could go throw my work pants-”
“I can try to find you som-”
You both look toward the kitchen when music starts playing and Mingyu shakes his head, almost regretting stowing his portable radio in there for when he’s cooking. It’s quiet for a few seconds and then, like someone cranked the volume all the way up, it’s starts blasting and they’re both singing.
“Ooooh baby, baybay, b-baby, baybaby, oooh baby-”
Mingyu just laughs. “On second thought, don’t even worry about it. They aren’t going to remember anything tomorrow morning anyway.”
“I like them,” you grin.
His shoulder shake with mirth, “Of course you do.”
You giggle when one of the guys starts shouting the words and grab Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along behind you. “Come on, noodles, drinks, Salt-n-Pepa,” he fake groans and you squeeze his hand, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a sleepover in years.”
Then he’s grinning, “Well, we can make it a regular thing if you want.”
You turn, just before you get to the kitchen and push up to kiss his cheek, “Whatever you say, Hot Wheels.”
“Oh, come on,” he drags his feet after you, “Can we pick a new nickname?!”
“Sure. Come on, Coach Kim. Let’s go play in the kitchen.”
He stumbles a step and shakes his head. “Am I supposed to pretend it doesn’t make me kind of horny when you call me that? God, please don’t hold that against me. I am only a man.”
P: Chan x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, headcanon | Inc: graphic designer!reader, getting together, friends to lovers, the rest of skz being (lovingly) fed up, date nights, late night walks | Wc: 503 | W: none iirc | R: G
My favourite single father of seven/j
Meeting Chan was almost fate, honestly
You’re a graphic designer and happen to love designing album covers
Stray Kids were finishing up an album and needed a graphic designer to help create the album covers
Lo and behold~
You and Chan meet!
Bonding during meeting after meeting while the creative process goes about working its magic
The bonding sessions turn into dropping by each other’s workspace
By which I mean you visiting Chan’s studio pretty much every time you have a lunch break and bringing a snack with you
Which he greatly appreciates <3
Because he never leaves that room/j
The speed at which you two become best friends is impeccable
Very much a duo – especially the kind that are always seen hanging out together
The feelings start not too long after too
There is one problem though... you’re both oblivious
Painfully oblivious
Somehow you both can’t see that the other is head over heels, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of skz to start taking matters into their own hands
They love you, really, but the running around in circles is going to drive them a little mad
Just a little :D
They keep trying to bash hints over your heads
Which is ironic because the confession happens so quickly
Catches everyone off guard fr
The two of you are hanging out late and it gets blurted out
Cue quick discussion over what you want in a relationship and boom—
Y’all are a couple now! Everyone liked that
Chan being your boyfriend comes with seven other people because none of these men know what the meaning of the phrase personal space is
Baby I don’t make the rules here, this is just the truth
You take it in stride though, which Chan appreciates
Oh yeah, and this man is a hugger
A certified cuddler I’m telling you
I’m convinced he needs his arms around you for thirty minutes a day, every day, at least
Will have you sit in his lap while he works so he can get his daily y/n cuddles
Try to move and watch him whine I swear—
Do you not want his affection anymore??/j
Lmao but despite how busy the both of you are, date nights are wonderful
He plans dinner reservations on days you’re both free and refuses to listen to anyone asking him to work
Date nights are for the two of you and the two of you only <33
Walks hand-in-hand with you after dinner and you stop by a few stalls
If you happen to pass by an arcade, he’s gonna win you a plushie from the claw machine
Sure he spends a little too much on it, but it’s all good fun
Especially worth it to see your face when he does win a plushie
And sure, your friends are more than happy that you’re dating Chan
But they are a little jealous
Because who doesn’t want a relationship like yours
genre : dragon au, fantasy au, holiday au, fluff, angst
word count : 4.3k
warnings : language, mentions of dragon hunters, talks about death, light injury but nothing major, one death threat
suffer tag : @sanjoongie and for anon who asked about any new chapters
note : very excited to write this, so let me know what you think! also here is a link to what y/n's dress at the yule gala looks like!
the winter month draws near and the clan prepares to celebrate the yule dragon festival for the first time in years. knowing this is wooyoung's first one with an actually clan, you want to make sure everything is perfect.
when you woke up in the morning, you noticed how snow had slowly begun to fall and lay on the ground. you also couldn't help but notice how the dragons around you seemed to have been in good moods. smiles on their faces as they walked around and some even greeted you with warm smiles.
when you arrived at the nursery, the hatchlings all immediately greeted you. most of them run up and tackle you to the ground.
"miss y/n! miss y/n! did you see the snow?" one hatchling, jiyu, asked and you couldn't help but laugh as you nodded and pushed some hair out of her face.
"yes, i did. very beautiful isn't it?"
"not as beautiful as you, miss y/n!" another hatchling, minjae, said. the other hatchlings couldn't help but agree with minjae and you couldn't help but laugh at them all.
"prince mingi said that we will be able to celebrate the yule dragon festival this year!"
"the yule dragon festival?" you remember wooyoung telling you about the holiday years ago when you first met. you can't help but feel excited knowing he's going to enjoy a real one this year.
"yeah! it's been years since the clan last held one," seeun says and that quickly catches your attention. years? you thought the holiday was a yearly thing?
"alright, little ones, let's go ahead and get ready for the day," mingi comes in and ushers the hatchlings away from you in order to gather them in a line so they could eat.
you push your curiosity down for later as you go over to help mingi with the hatchlings. you watch the hatchlings with a warm fondness as they eat and talk to each other, and the rest of the day goes by in flash with you and mingi taking care of the young dragons.
"miss y/n, have you ever experienced a yule dragon festival before?" one of the hatchlings asked as they were laying down for a nap. the question of one hatchling seemed to have caught the attention of a few others around you two.
"not a proper one with a true clan, but me and wooyoung used to do a small celebration before we came to the clan," you said as you remembered your time with wooyoung back in your cottage. you can feel your cheeks heat up as you remember the first time you both celebrated the yule dragon together.
"do witches have any special holidays?" another hatchling, siyu, asked.
"we do but they're not like the yule dragon one. we focus more on what we are thankful for and mourning those that have left us," you explain.
"that sounds sad."
"sometimes it is sad, but then you have to remember that even those that left this world are still with us in spirit. watching over and guiding us on the right path of destiny," you say.
"but miss y/n, you don't have to be sad anymore because you have all of us!" one hatchling said with the others immediately agreeing and you couldn't help but smile at all of them.
"okay, okay, everyone," mingi says as he comes in and immediately calming all the hatchlings down. "its time to rest, not get excited."
"but prince mingi," minjae says looking towards the tall prince, "don't you agree that miss y/n doesn't have to be sad anymore, since she has all of us now?"
"of course," mingi says as he bends down to pet minjae's head, "but miss y/n still has a right to miss those that she lost. we all do. now come on, everyone, time to rest!"
you can't help but smile at how some of the hatchlings groan at mingi's words, but nonetheless all lay down in their little nooks. you and mingi go through and make sure each hatchling is comfortable before you leave the nesting room.
you watch as mingi closes the door behind him before he's offering his arm to you. you take his arm with a smile as he escorts the two of you back to the main palace wing.
"i meant what i said though," mingi begins and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "that you have a right to be sad about those you lost, but also know that hatchlings are right as well and that you have all of us now. the hatchlings, me, wooyoung, yeosang, the others, and even the clan. you have all of us."
"thank you, prince mingi," you say, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek and he smiles at you before quickly pressing his own kiss to your lips. "also," you speak up after you two continue to walk, "what did the little ones mean when they said its been years since you all had a yule dragon festival?"
"well... we haven't had one since hongjoong's parents and brother were killed. hongjoong didn't want to have a large one with the whole clan, so this is the first time in five years that we have celebrated it as such," mingi explains and you nod your head in understanding.
"what caused him to suddenly change his mind?"
"well you and wooyoung of course," you wanted to laugh at mingi's answer. more like just wooyoung, you think. you decide to remain silent as mingi guides you through the palace.
"this will be wooyoung's first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you note as you notice many dragons setting up and decorating the palace corridors with festive decorations. you can't help but feel excited knowing that wooyoung will be able to experience the real thing after so many years of not having it with an actual clan.
your mind goes back to when you and wooyoung would celebrate together back at the cottage. both of you dressing up, decorating the cottage, and spending the entire night together. wooyoung taught you the dances that he learned. even when you weren't celebrating the dragon holiday, you would find wooyoung and yourself dancing and just enjoying each other's company.
"hey, mingi?" you caught the dragon's attention and he turns towards you as you continue to speak, "is there... a way i can help set up the festival?"
"oh! umm, i think so. seonghwa is usually in charge of things like this, but i volunteered to help him this time, so..."
"do you need help?" you ask, feeling an excitement bubble up in your stomach.
"of course you can help," mingi says, a wide smile on his face and you mirror his smile, beaming up at him. the two of you share a quick hug, mingi lets out a small laugh at your excitement, almost not expecting it.
"thank you," you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you are separating yourself from him. you notice the blush that covers his cheeks and ears and you have to stop yourself from pouncing on the tall dragon from how cute he is.
as the next week goes by, you spend your time helping the dragons in the clan to decorate for the yule dragon holiday. at first some of the dragons were reluctant at accepting your help, but slowly and eventually they allowed for you to help with the decorations. sure they didn't trust you with the important stuff, but that was okay.
you only wanted to make sure everything was perfect for wooyoung, he needed to have the best yule dragon after everything he has done for you. you also wanted to make sure the clan had a good one as well, but wooyoung took priority in your heart.
"wow, look at these decorations, darling," yeosang's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look down from your spot on the wooden ladder to see your lover looking up at you with a smile. you finish hanging the silver garland before climbing down the ladder and yeosang is quick to press a loving kiss to your lips.
"thank you, me and the hatchlings made them," you say, feeling rather proud from how all the decorations have been turning out. many of the other clan dragons complimenting you on your hard work.
"you've been working so hard, a lot of the clan members are grateful for your help," he says as the two of you begin walking out of the grand hall, where the yule gala will be held tomorrow night. other dragons are busy around you all finishing up last minute details, with most of them stopping to bow at yeosang before scurrying away to finish their task.
"i have something for you, princess," he says once the two of you are out of the grand hall and you give him a confused look which only makes him smile. "it’s custom for everyone to wear special outfits, rather a little too fancy if you ask me, but people really enjoy it," he begins as the two of you continue to walk down the hall.
"and i bet you completely forgot to make sure you are prepared for the gala," yeosang teases and you felt yourself get flustered at his words. "but don't worry because you wonderful mate has taken care of you," he says as you both stop in front of your chamber doors. "i hired a seamstress to make you a dress and thankfully she managed to finish it in time."
"wait, yeosang– you... you didn't, you shouldn't have."
"but i did, and i wanted to. my darling, you have done so much, let me give you this," he says, cupping your cheeks before leaning over and kissing you. you feel yourself melt into the kiss as you press yourself closer to your lover, arms wrapping around his waist. the two of you only separate when you're out of breath and yeosang presses one last kiss to your lips before he's pulling away and opening the door to your bedroom.
when you stepped inside, you were completely shocked at the dress that rested on the mannequin in the center of your room. you had honestly never seen a dress more beautiful in your life and you felt yourself tear up because of it. you felt like you didn't deserve a dress as gorgeous as this.
"it's beautiful, yeosang."
"you look absolutely beautiful, my fire," seonghwa says when he sees you walk into the grand hall.
the gala had been going on for several minutes, hongjoong lighting the ceremonial flame that burned in the center of the clan. you were amazed at the flame and its rather unique color, and mingi explained that this flame could only be lit by the leader of a clan and that it in order to celebrate the first dragon.
you honestly couldn't look away from the flame, almost like it was meant to entrance you.
"thank you, prince seonghwa," you said, bowing slightly to the eldest dragon prince. seonghwa could only smile as he took your hand into his before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
"make sure you enjoy yourself," he says, not yet letting go of your hand. "i want a dance before the night is over."
"of course, your highness," you say, a small smirk taking over your lips before seonghwa is nodding and making his leave. he does unfortunately have other people to see and talk to.
your eyes scan around the grand hall, looking for the head of familiar red hair and you feel your heart skip a beat when you finally find him. wooyoung looked absolutely handsome in his outfit and you were glad to see that he matched the other princes. it made your heart flutter knowing that wooyoung was being accepted by the clan.
you made your way over to your first lover, your feet picking up speed when you two made eye contact. you felt like it had been forever since you last seen wooyoung – however it had only been a few hours. you had been so caught up in making sure the festival and gala were perfect for him that you had completely forgot to pay the red-headed dragon attention.
so you immediately wrapped wooyoung in a tight hug once you were close enough. wooyoung was quick to return the hug, holding you close to him as he inhaled your scent before pressing a kiss to your neck.
"my y/n, you look so beautiful," he says as he twirls you around, the white-silver fabric that was decorated with beautiful shimmering stars and moons. wooyoung had seen the dress, yeosang having shown him before you and he knew you would look beautiful in it. but of course, seeing you actually in it he was blown away by your appearance.
"are you having a good time, woo?" you ask, heart beating rapidly waiting for his answer.
"of course i am," he says with a smile, "mingi mentioned how you helped out with this whole thing. any reason why?"
"you, of course," you say, both your hands linking with his. "this is your first yule dragon with an actual clan in a long time. i wanted to make sure it was perfect."
"oh love," he says, gently pulling the two of you off to the side, "you didn't need to do that. it would have perfect no matter what because i'm celebrating it with you. back at the cottage... i saw the two of us as our own little clan. and the yeosang joined," wooyoung says and you can't help but laugh at his last comment. despite mating and bonding with yeosang, wooyoung still couldn't get over the other dragon coming in basically setting up camp in your little cottage.
"you love yeosang, don't try to fool yourself," you tease and wooyoung grumbles a little bit before rolling his eyes.
"whatever."
you were about to say something when the sound of a familiar tune filled the grand hall. you turned to see a lot of the people gathering at the center and began dancing. you noticed mingi pulling yunho behind him to the dance floor with many of the other dragons cheering for the two tall princes. following them, you see yeosang and san dancing and you were a little surprised at seeing the blonde guard dancing and smiling as him and yeosang looked at one another.
"wow, who knew san could smile," wooyoung says and you crack a smile before turning to your lover.
"shall we join them as well?" you ask and wooyoung nods before he's pulling you towards the dance floor and you two quickly fall into a rhythm of the dance. the music easily guided you as you and wooyoung danced, you felt your whole attention center in on your lover and it felt like it was just the two of you.
you got flashbacks to when you and wooyoung would dance in your cottage. how back then it really was just the two of you and no one else, but now you were surrounded by people that even if they all didn't welcome you, they welcomed wooyoung. and even if you didn't feel welcomed at first, you have mingi, yeosang, the hatchlings.
seeing wooyoung smile and laugh and enjoy himself made you feel like you were on cloud nine. even if he wouldn't say it out loud, you knew wooyoung enjoyed being a part of the clan.
you felt the music guide you and your thoughts, as the music began to slow down you found yourself and wooyoung also slowing down. wooyoung pulling you close to him, his arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you close to him.
"i have you had your ceremony?" wooyoung suddenly asks, snapping you out of your happy daze. you knew immediately what he was talking about.
"not yet, i was waiting till after the gala was over," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat at knowing what you would have to do later.
just like dragons, witches also had their own traditions and such. not as public as the yule dragon, but more intimate to each witch. celebrating those that you left you in this world. wooyoung has been with you during this ceremony like you have been with him for his. you don't know how many nights you have fallen asleep, crying in wooyoung's arms because of all the witches that have died.
"do you want me there with you?" he asks, and it takes you a moment to think about it.
"no, i'll do it alone this time."
"are you sure?" you nod your head, you didn't want to ruin wooyoung's good time here with your own traditions and ceremonies.
when the music changed once again, you pressed a kiss to wooyoung before stepping away, telling him you needed some fresh air.
"let me come with you," he says as he starts to trail after you, but you stop him.
"it’s okay," you say, hand out to stop him, "i'll be right back."
you don't give wooyoung a chance to say anything as you're turning and making your way to one of the many garden doors that lead out into the courtyard.
once the cold air hit your skin, you let out a sigh as you made your way over to one of the stone benches that overlooked most of the courtyard and even down further into the clan. the yule flame burned brightly a short distance away and you couldn't help but walk over to it. the flame reminded you of the flame that you would light for the umbra ceremony.
the flame burned brightly and you almost felt like a moth from how you were being drawn to it.
which is how you found yourself in front of it. the noises from the grand hall behind you is like static as you look at the flame, letting it consume you. you got flashbacks to when you would set up a room of candles for the witches that you lost, the flame from those candles burning brightly into your mind.
"why are you out here," the cold voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at hongjoong with wide eyes. the prince looks at you with a stern expression, his cold eyes burning into your body.
"i was just... just getting some air," you tell him, refusing to fully make eye contact with him.
hongjoong lets out a 'tsk' sound before he's coming to stand next to you, looking up at the flame. you're surprised by how close hongjoong, this is probably the closest he has ever gotten to you without trying to kill you.
"mingi told me how you helped decorate for the festival," he said out of nowhere after the two of you stood in silence. "i guess witches can be good for something," he adds and you feel yourself deflate at his harsh words.
"i did it for wooyoung," you said wanting to make it clear that you were only doing it for your first love and no one else. "this is his first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you add.
"and i'm sure witches are the reason why he had gone for so long without experiencing one with a clan," he says back.
"perhaps," you say as you clench your fist together tightly, "but wooyoung is here now with a clan," you turn your head to look at hongjoong, taking in his form once more. his lavish outfit and vibrant blue hair standing out against the dark night. he was the epitome of what a leader of a dragon clan should be in the fact that he always had that air of authority around him. everyone respected him and if they didn't respect him then they feared him.
you, unfortunately, feared him more than you respected him. the dragon oracles say that you two are mates like you are with the rest of the princes, but you knew hongjoong refused to acknowledge you as his mate. you were a witch, the thing that killed his parents and brother and forced him to take the role of leader too soon. you wondered if you and hongjoong would ever get along.
you notice how the flame reflects against hongjoong's skin and then something hits you.
"please excuse me, prince hongjoong," you say suddenly before you are rushing past him. hongjoong doesn't say anything and you don't know if he watches you leave as you are too caught up in rushing back into the palace.
you run to your room, feeling out of breath as you enter your chambers you share with wooyoung before going over to the large trunk that rested at the foot of the bed. you quickly dig through the trunk and pull out a set of candles. all three a beautiful rose color and it reminds you greatly of your mother.
"what are these for mother?" you asked, looking up at your mother as she handed you the three candles. they were different from the ones you were use to lightly for the umbra ceremony and you wondered why she was giving them to you.
"these are special candles, y/n, i made them myself so you can use them when you need them the most," she explains, her voice seeming ever cryptic.
"when i need them the most?" you echo and she nods, a tight-lipped smile painting her features.
"they are for the one who will need to say goodbye the most."
you gripped the candles tightly as you raced back to the courtyard and was surprised to still see hongjoong standing there. somewhere deep inside wants you to believe he waited for you, but you know that's impossible.
"prince hongjoong," you say as you approach him. "i want to thank you for letting wooyoung into your home. i know that... you despise me and my people, you lost your parents and brother after all. and i know you probably don't care but i want to share something with you."
hongjoong turns to look at you, his face void of emotion as he watches you set the three candles down between the two of you. you crouch down, kneeling front of the candles as hongjoong stands towering above you.
"the umbra witches have their own ceremony, we light candles in order to remember those that have left us and this world. we do this as a way to remind us that while they have left this world physically, they are still here with us spiritually," you pause in order to take a deep breath, licking your lips before continuing.
"my mother made me these candles when she was still alive. she told me that they were for someone who needed to say goodbye, and... i think she made them for you."
"what the hell are you talking about?" hongjoong asks, voice full of surprise and anger. "i don't need any of you stupid umbra witch shit," he adds and you notice his fist clenches with his rage.
"please," you beg, voice straining as you plead with the prince, "take the candles, it will bring you peace, prince hongjoong."
you feel a sudden shock as you are grabbed by the collar of your dress. you're pulled up from your kneeling position, face dangerously close to an enraged hongjoong as he bares his teeth at you. in the moment you are reminded that you are at the mercy of a clan full of dragons whether you liked it or not.
"i will never," he jaw clenched tightly as he speaks, "ever, forgive your damned people for what they did to my family. my people. so don't think so damned candles will change that. you will never be my mate and just know that if it wasn't for yeosang and mingi that i would have burned you at a stake a long fucking time ago."
hongjoong waste no time in throwing you to the ground, your hands skidding across the stone pathway harshly and you flinch at the sudden burn of skin. you turn to see hongjoong's eye burning, like he will kill you if you say anything else to him.
you then watch him destroy two of the candles, his foot coming down harshly on them and you feel like a part of you is being ripped apart as you watch him. he's about to do the same to the last one, but you move and grab the last candle. the last one your mother made.
then without thinking you stand up and run away from the prince. you clearly made a mistake in thinking that you could get hongjoong to open up just a little bit. you felt tears begin to form in your eyes as you ran, clutching the candle close to your chest as you collapsed in the one of the many decorated halls.
you looked down at the candle once more, the image of your mother's smile flashing inside your mind as you caressed it. you knew this candle was for hongjoong. he was the one who needed to say goodbye to those he lost, but it was obvious that now wasn't the time.
"y/n!" the sudden call of your name makes you snap your head up to see yeosang rushing towards you. face full of concern and he drops down to the floor next to you. "y/n, what's wrong, why are you crying?" he brushes the tears away and you open your mouth to say something before a sob escapes instead.
you throw yourself into his arms and he arms them around you protectively. you hold your mother's candle close to you as you allow yourself to cry in yeosang's arms. yeosang doesn't say anything, only letting you cry as a comforting hand runs over your hair.
"it's okay, y/n, i'm here," he says softly, holding you closer to him. "whatever made you sad, don't think about it anymore, okay? cause i'm here to protect you."
and so the night comes to an end as you spend the rest of it in yeosang's arms, allowing him to hold you closely as you mourn for the loss of your mother and the hate hongjoong bares for you.
Your road trip takes a turn for the worst and leaves you stranded during a winter storm. It's not long until the car gets chilly, but luckily for you, your boyfriend has an idea to keep you both warm.
❄️ Pairing: boyfriend!Seungcheol x Reader (afab)
❄️ Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Smut, fluff; Established relationship
❄️ Warnings: Pet names (baby, baby girl, princess, angel), unprotective sex (dont be like them), fingering, breast play, creampie, dirty talk, car sex so technically exhibitionism, reader is slightly inexperienced/shy (not a virgin tho)
❄️ Word Count: 3.7k
❄️ Project: @k-vanity's event. Prompt is "snow day/snowed in".
❄️ Author's Note: Honestly, I'm not sure about this one aha. This was meant to be posted last holidays, but I never got it finished in time. Now, I rushed it to meet this deadline sdfk;bjfdlsk. So... Please be kind 🥲
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
Your idea of a mini road trip was going well. You were sharing memories with your sweet boyfriend, who you had dragged with you, filled with laughs and a few forced smiles. Sure, Seungcheol was grumbling fifty percent of the time, but the other fifty percent was genuine happiness… Well, he slept for fifteen percent so that other fifty wasn’t accurate. Nevertheless, you weren’t going to let his party-pooping butt rain on your parade.
However, what did ruin your parade known as a road trip was when your car started to break down in the middle of a snowy night. Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol let a few expletives slip from his pout. His hand was wavering in different directions as he lectured the car for being “a complete waste of a fucking car.” You would have found it amusing if it weren’t for the fact you were about to be stranded in a deserted area.
“Hurry and call for a pickup before either of our phones dies,” Seungcheol instructs as the car begins to slow to a stop.
You oblige quickly, looking up a local towing company and giving them a call. Unfortunately, it’s going to take a couple of hours to arrive due to the bad weather. Seungcheol curses once more before locking the already-locked doors, yanking out the keys, and tossing them onto the dashboard.
“We should have stayed at the hotel one more night like I said,” he huffs with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring out into nothing. Both of you are sitting in the dark as you let the situation sink in. Guilt is forming in your chest.
“I just wanted to get to the next city by the morning so we could see the festival,” you mumble. Seungcheol knows this already, but you feel it necessary to explain again. You didn’t anticipate or wish for this to happen.
Hearing your dejected voice, Seungcheol’s body relaxes as he turns to look at you. “I know, baby,” he sighs.
“Let’s move to the back so that we can be more comfortable,” he suggests. You’re about to open the door when he stops you suddenly. “Climb in from here. We don’t want the cold air in.”
“Oh, right,” you say sheepishly. It’s warm now since the heater was on before the car shut off.
Carefully, you squeeze through the seats to sit in the back. Once you’re seated, Seungcheol follows suit. He reaches back into the trunk and digs out the blanket you had packed.
He pulls you into his lap, wrapping the blanket around you. You tuck the ends of it behind Seungcheol so he can hold it in place with his back.
“I’m sorry I made you feel bad,” he speaks softly with a deep exhale.
You shake your head. “You didn’t—”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” he chuckles and rubs his hands up and down your clothed thighs. “I’m just tired and grumpy.”
“Hm,” you hum and give him a small smile. “You are tired and grumpy.”
“Tired and grumpy Seungcheol is sorry,” he says, lips pursing in a tiny pout and voice slightly higher.
Giggling, you hit his chest playfully. “You’re forgiven.”
“Good. I hate when my baby’s mad at me.”
“I wasn’t,” you reply. “Now, go to sleep, Cheollie,” you smile.
Seungcheol nods, bringing you down for a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around your body. You lean forward to lay against him. With the warm air, blanket, and his heated body, you’re feeling hot; however, you know the temperature is going to drop soon.
As expected, the car grows chilly within thirty minutes.
You wake from your slumber with a shiver. Seungcheol’s head is leaned against the headrest, breathing evenly as he sleeps. You reach up and softly graze his cheek. It’s cold under your touch. Frowning, you cup his face to heat his skin. He stirs for a second and then flutters his eyes open.
“Are they here?” he questions, referring to the towing people.
Shaking your head you say, “No, you were just cold.”
“I’m okay,” he replies even though his body shivers as soon as the words come out. “You’re cold?”
“A little,” you confess. You let your hands leave his cheeks and land on his shoulders gently.
Seungcheol’s eyes roam your face, taking in the occasional shakes of your body from the low temperature.
“I have an idea,” he replies belatedly.
“For?”
“To make you less cold.”
“Oh?”
You stare at him in confusion. You figure he’s going to grab the second blanket in the trunk, but instead, he grips your hips and slides your body against his crotch.
“Oh,” you gasp, face warming at the implication. “But we’re in public.”
Seungcheol shrugs. “In the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm. I doubt anyone is going to come this way.”
You hold his shoulders firmly when he rolls his hips under you. The action has him rubbing your clit briefly. You tighten your grip on him.
“The towing people,” you explain, trying not to focus on Seungcheol’s movements.
“You said they’d be here in a few hours. I don’t need a few hours to get you to cu—”
“Cheol!” you scold his language. Seungcheol just smiles. “I thought you wanted to get warm. Not… that.”
He clears his throat and stops grinding against you.
You bite your lip to suppress the whine that wants to come out. His actions had felt good, and you admit silently you were feeling warmer as your body became aroused.
“Right. I mean, I don’t need a few hours to get you warmed up,” he corrects innocently.
“I’m not sure,” you answer hesitantly. “Cuddling works too.”
You’re not too experienced—Seungcheol having been your first a few months ago—so having sex in such an exposed space feels like you’re skipping some imaginary steps.
He gives you a reassuring smile. “Then cuddles it is. Let me get the other blanket.”
Seungcheol moves to reach backwards. With his back no longer holding the blanket, it pools around the both of you. The cold air hits your body, causing you to shiver again. Even with the second blanket, you will only be warm for a little bit before the coldness consumes you again. You could say the same about what Seungcheol proposed, but at least you would have more fun.
You stare at him as he gathers both blankets and wraps them around you again.
“What?” he asks when he sees the flint in your eyes.
“M-maybe I’ve changed my mind,” you say a little nervously.
“Oh?” he wonders. “You don’t have to. I’m really okay with just cuddling.”
Your hands on his shoulders slowly slide down until they rest flat on his chest. You can feel his heart pumping quicker as the seconds tick by.
“I-I just don’t want to go to jail,” you say.
Seungcheol grins, rubbing up and down your arms to warm them. “Like I said, I don’t think anyone is going to catch us, and the snow will slow down the towing people. Plus, I’m sure Soonyoung and Seokmin will come bail us out.”
You huff at his last sentence. “Why them?”
“Because if they can’t do it the normal way, at least they can cause a big enough distraction so we can escape.”
“Babe,” you whine. You don’t like the thought of being a fugitive.
“Relax, angel,” Seungcheol chuckles. “It’ll be fine, but you don’t hav—Hmph!”
Not wanting to repeat the conversation, you lean forward as he’s talking and press your lips on his.
Seungcheol grips your arms in shock but soon eases his hold once he gets his bearings. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer until your arms fold against his chest from the close proximity.
With a surge of boldness, you wiggle your arms away and readjust to grab onto the seat behind him for leverage. He moans into the kiss when you start circling your hips against his.
“Just shut up and get me warm,” you mumble into the kiss.
Seungcheol smiles against your lips as he nods. His cold hands slip under your shirt to push your bra up. He doesn’t want to get you completely naked since it’s cold, so this will do.
You sigh softly when he gropes your breasts, massaging them gently. The contact heats your body blissfully.
He pulls away from the kiss to look at you. “Feeling better already?”
“A little,” you reply meekly.
Seungcheol gives one last squeeze to your breasts before pushing your shirt up. A gasp leaves your mouth when the cold air hits your bare torso. You try to pull the material down, but he keeps a firm grip on it.
“Kinda wanna press you against the window like this,” he murmurs.
“C-Cheol!” you scold.
“What?” he asks, suppressing his wicked grin.
“People will for sure see us then! Plus,” you begin to pout more, “it’ll be cold.”
“You’ll warm up when I start fucking that pretty pussy of yours.”
Your face heats at his vulgar words. You’re not used to people speaking in such a way, but you can’t deny the way your walls tighten in anticipation.
“Think about it,” he suggests, then leans down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples.
Your lips part at the sudden difference in temperature on your chest. Seungcheol’s warm mouth feels so good.
Your hands move to play with his hair, fingers tugging on the strands occasionally.
Seungcheol pulls you closer to him as his eyes flutter close. He’s licking and sucking your nipple like it’s his favorite way to pass time. The sight itself makes you moan.
You can feel Seungcheol’s bulge press against your core, which makes your arousal pool in your underwear more. Hesitantly, you start grinding your hips against him. Though when Seungcheol hums against your chest and pulls away with a soft pop, you stop moving. Your hands fall away from his hair to land on his shoulders.
“Don’t be shy, baby. Make yourself feel good,” he reassures, giving your lips a quick kiss for encouragement.
“I-Is this right?” you question, moving your hips again albeit a bit slower.
He grins. “Whatever makes you feel good is right. Do you feel good right now?”
“I—kinda.”
“Kinda? Is there something else you want?” he asks, carefully pulling your shirt down and cupping your face.
Your eyes dart away from his brown ones. It seems you used all your bold moves earlier.
Seungcheol begins to glide his thumb across your cheeks lovingly.
“Show me what you want,” he instructs gently and offers one of his hands.
You glance at it. Seungcheol has used this tactic several times in the past. It’s a way for you to take charge in your own way. It isn’t that he makes you uncomfortable, but it takes time to get used to things you’ve never experienced before.
You’re grateful Seungcheol is so understanding. Some of your exes became exes for being the opposite.
Taking his hand, you push it down until it rests against his crotch.
Seungcheol smiles. “My good girl just wants to get to the main course, hm?”
His light attitude lessens your nervousness.
“Need to feel you,” you murmur.
“I need to feel you too, baby girl,” he agrees and leans up to capture your lips.
You lax at the feeling of his plush lips, hands sliding down his arms to play with his shirt. Seungcheol eases your mouth open so he can slip his tongue inside as he grabs your wrists. He guides your hands under his shirt slowly. You feel his abs tense momentarily at the cool touch of your skin.
Once your hands are settled against his chest, he releases you. You take the opportunity to rub your hands along his torso, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles beneath your palms.
After a while, you finally pull away with a gasp.
“You give the best kisses,” Seungcheol compliments.
You grin. “I’ve gotten better?”
“You were never bad to begin with,” he chuckles. “But yes, you have improved.”
Your smile grows at his words.
“You’re so fucking cute,” he huffs as if it’s too much for him to bear.
“Now, we better hurry before help arrives,” he says and gently lays you back on the car seats.
The blankets get tangled, but Seungcheol pulls them away and leaves them on the floorboard. You supposed you don’t need them at the moment anyway.
Seungcheol nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and starts kissing your skin. His hands grab ahold of your sweatpants and pull them down. Before you can complain about the coldness, one of his hands slither between your legs to circle your clit.
“Gotta’ prep you a bit, okay? Then I’ll give you want, angel.”
You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders.
Seungcheol continues to pepper kisses against your neck, but you can tell his attention is elsewhere.
His fingers glide down and slip between your folds.
“I could slide in so easily right now with how wet you are,” he moans.
“T-then do it,” you say,
He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
Carefully, he slides one finger inside your dripping hole.
You bite your lip and remind yourself to relax.
Seungcheol stops kissing and simply rests his head against your shoulder. His eyes are closed as he pumps the single digit a few times before adding a second. You moan softly, legs spreading a little wider despite the small space.
“Doing okay?” he asks after a while.
“Yes,” you reply. “More, please.”
Seungcheol nods and slips in a third finger. However, not long after, he adds a fourth. He moves them slowly, not seeing the need to speed up when he’s saving that for later.
A gasp escapes at the stretch. It feels good, but each pump of his fingers makes you eager for his cock.
“Cheol,” you beg.
“Okay,” he says and removes his fingers. He brings them to his mouth and licks up your arousal. The lewd sight makes you want to look away, but you’re also mesmerized by how satisfied Seungcheol looks.
“When we get to the hotel, I’m going to eat you out for hours. You taste so fucking good,” he groans, then pushes his sweatpants down.
You turn your head and bite your lip. Seungcheol laughs and leans over you, arms caging you in.
“That a yes, princess?”
You peep at him and nod. “Yes.”
“That a girl,” he praises and pecks your lips.
“Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” he asks while aligning his tip to your entrance.
You nod, used to him saying that, but you know he means it.
Seungcheol waits for a second before easing inside. He slides in smoothly from how soaked you are. A small mewl comes from you. Although he prepped you, he’s still big and stretches you more than his fingers did.
As usual, the first few seconds are… indescribable. It doesn’t hurt as much, but you still need to get used to his size. The stretch is a mix of pleasure and pain—though the pleasure is more prominent.
“Oh, fuck,” Seungcheol curses while pushing more of his length inside.
“Feels good, Cheol,” you moan when he presses himself fully against you.
Seungcheol eyes flicker from where you’re connected to your eyes.
“Tell me when,” he instructs and rests his forehead on yours.
A minute ticks by until you tell him he can move. Seungcheol doesn’t waste another second and starts slowly gliding in and out of you. The sensation causes you to fill the car with your whimpers.
The coldness in the car seems to fade away with each thrust. The windows are fogging up and it’s getting a little stuffy; however, your focus is solely on Seungcheol’s cock rubbing against your walls heavenly.
His pace eventually increases as you relax more. He continues for some time until a certain sharp snap of his hips has you crying out.
“Shit, I—” Seungcheol begins to apologize.
“Again, Cheol. Please. Again.”
“A-are you sure? Did I hurt you?” he questions.
“No,” you beg with a cry. “Need that again.”
“Fuck, okay, baby,” he rasps.
Seungcheol pulls out most of the way then slams his hips forward. You gasp his name and clench around him. It’s a sight he wants to capture in his mind forever.
The heat in the car has increased and sweat beads are forming on both of your bodies.
You tug off your shirt and bra to get some air.
Seungcheol moans at the sight of your exposed breasts and moves a hand to grip one. He massages it in his hand and continues to snap his hips. He feels like he’s losing his mind slowly at how good you feel wrapped around him, but he wants to try something different.
“Come here, angel,” he huffs and pulls out.
Your lips dip down as you whine at the emptiness. Seungcheol coos at you, adjusting positions so he’s sat with you above him. He discarded both of your sweatpants fully in the process. He then guides his hard cock between your legs and slowly eases you down.
You moan loudly as your pussy gets filled once more. Your hands clutch his shoulders for stability and try not to get nervous at the new position. It’s not often you’re on top.
Sensing your worry, Seungcheol gives you a reassuring massage on your hips.
“I’ll guide you, okay?”
You nod.
Seungcheol smiles, lifting you until his tip remains then pushing you back down carefully.
Your eyes drift from his face to where you both connect. Seeing how his cock disappears makes you clench around him. The sight is arousing, and a sense of pride fills your chest seeing how much easier you can take him now.
Without realizing it, your hips begin to move. You start with the pace Seungcheol has set but gradually move faster. You become addicted to the feel of his cock against your walls and need to feel it more.
It’s not until your thighs start to burn that you slow in realization.
“Don’t slow down,” Seungcheol groans, eyes hooded as he rests his head back on the seat. “Fucking me so good, baby. I knew you could do it.”
“A-are you close?” you question, a little shy.
He hums while nodding.
“Keep moving,” he says, guiding your hips up and down. Seeing how fucked out he is spurs your movements to quicken. Eventually, Seungcheol’s hands relax on your body while he watches you bounce on his cock.
“Fuck,” he curses lowly, eyes taking in your body above his. Your tits look so good and your pussy feels so tight.
Unable to stop himself, he grips your hips firmly and starts thrusting upwards.
You gasp, mouth hanging open as he chases his high. The sound of skin slapping skin feels loud in your ears, but part of you loves it. You love hearing and feeling how fast he’s sliding his cock in you. You love knowing you’re making him feel so good.
Seungcheol slams into your once more, a guttural groan escaping his mouth as his cum fills your insides. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts before he stills completely. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are shut as he floats back down.
You try not to move, but your orgasm is near, and you need a release.
Seungcheol’s eyes peel open after a few more seconds.
“You need help, angel?” he asks when he sees you trying not to squirm.
You pull your lower lip between your teeth and nod.
Seungcheol plants a kiss on your forehead, then adjusts your bodies. He leans against one of the doors while sitting you between his legs, back to his chest. He hooks one of your legs over his to spread you open. You’re so focused on Seungcheol that it doesn’t cross your mind how exposing the position is from the opposing window’s view.
Seungcheol runs his hands down your body, briefly squeezing your breasts before he slides them between your legs. He circles your clit with one hand and uses the other to slide into your dripping hole. He pumps his fingers a few times before pulling out to look at his hand.
His digits are covered with a mix of your arousal and his cum. The sight makes you squeeze your legs and for Seungcheol to moan deeply behind you.
“So messy just for me,” he murmurs, then plunges his fingers back into your cunt.
He moves both his hands quickly, bringing forth your impending orgasm.
“Play with your tits, baby,” Seungcheol rasps. “Don’t forget to make yourself feel good.”
You adhere to his request and bring your hands to squeeze your breasts. Your head falls back against his chest, moans spilling out of you nonstop as you pinch and fondle yourself while Seungcheol continues to circle and pump his fingers.
Seungcheol’s name falls from your mouth incoherently as you climax, your body slightly jerking in his hold as pleasure washes over your body.
“That’s it, baby girl,” he praises in your ear. His fingers still move quickly until he feels you start to relax.
Seungcheol angles your face so he can kiss you. He holds you close, one hand pressing against your tummy while the other keeps your head in place. The kiss is sloppy, but neither of you care.
“You still cold?” he teases after he pulls away.
“No,” you mumble, hiding your face from him.
He laughs and leans down to grab your clothes. “If you are, we can go another round.”
“M-maybe we should wait. The towing people should be here soon,” you say.
Seungcheol nudges you and mumbles, “Arms.”
You comply, lifting your arms slightly so he can put on your clothes. He kisses your shoulder blade after he’s done. You both slide on your sweatpants again, then cuddle once more.
About fifteen minutes pass when bright lights shine nearby.
The worker eyes you both—taking in the fogged windows and disheveled clothing. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Nevertheless, they say nothing and get started with trying to fix the vehicle.
Maybe the road trip didn’t go as planned, and maybe you’ll miss the festival, but at least you had some fun nonetheless.
Warnings: everything but the actual smut scene occurs here, nudity, mild cussing
Word count: 961
Chanyeol had barely gotten through the front door and dropped the bag he had over his shoulder before you launched yourself at him, his surprise thankfully not inhibiting his body from moving quickly to catch you. He then grinned, delighting in the shriek-whimper that left your mouth before your head buried into the side of his neck.
He chuckled. “Did you miss me, by chance?”
“I’m so glad you’re home. It was hell without you.”
“Aw, was it?” he wondered genuinely, looking around the apartment for telltale signs of such torment. Everything looked almost the same, and he smiled brightly when he spotted the flowers he had gotten delivered two days prior with a note telling you he was coming home earlier than planned sitting in a vase on the corner of the kitchen countertop.
He carried you over to said countertop and placed you down, right as you pulled back enough to scowl at him. “Why did you put the instant pot on the top shelf?! I wanted to pressure cook some chicken to shred, but I couldn’t get it down because I have no idea where the stool has gone to!”
“Did I?” he asked, scratching his head in what he hoped appeared like confusion.
You didn’t buy it for a second and slapped his upper arm playfully. “And where is the box of my snacks?! You hid them on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I did no such thing!” he responded, but he was unable to stop another chuckle from tumbling from his lips.
“You’re such a teasing shit, you know that? I’ve been going out of my mind with all the small but significant changes you made to annoy me whilst you’ve been gone, and here you are trying to act innocent?! Park Chanyeol, you’re anything but!”
“I didn’t want you to stop needing me,” he disputed, and you stopped mid-way from retorting, your expression softening. He leaned forward, chuffed at your reaction. “And your snacks are up on the top shelf too.”
“The stool?”
“Behind the washing machine,” he confessed, smiling even when his lips met yours. You sighed into the embrace, shifting again until you were flush against him, your body rolling forward into him in that familiar way that he loved so much. He couldn’t stop the extra thud his heart did then, his brain crooning there she is to him as he realised just how much he had anticipated the move. You arched further into the embrace, a needy little moan breathily being passed from you through the kiss. He kissed you deeper, harder, until he couldn’t breathe anymore and needed air.
“Missed you.”
“Missed this,” you refuted, and he grinned, nodding down at your body flush against his.
“Me too. I thought I was imagining it when I was away and thinking about this.”
“What?”
“You when you kiss me.” You frowned, and instead of explaining it, he reached out for your lips again. He smiled when your hips shifted against him and briefly cut off the kiss. “That. You do that.”
“I do what?”
“You have no idea?” he asked with a surprised laugh and moved his hands from the countertop where they had ended up and put them on your hips. “You roll yourself into me when you arch your back. With every kiss you give me. You’ve never noticed it?”
“I…” Pausing to look down and then up at Chanyeol, you placed a hand on his neck to bring his lips closer to yours. You were too rigid going into the kiss as you tried to understand the habit, and whilst your body shifted infinitesimally, it wasn’t like it usually was. Chanyeol scooped you up and kissed you more passionately, hoping that after losing your focus you’d discover the little habit. Instead, he too lost track of what you were both discussing, his own body shifting, needing, craving.
Soon you were no longer resting on the countertop but clumsily pulled into his arms again and making your way to the bedroom, Chanyeol tripping over a soft toy your dog left lying around. He cursed but managed to right you both, succeeding in reaching his destination, sans his hoodie and your dress along the way.
“It’s been too long.”
“Really,” you agreed, your hands greedily smoothing over his skin whilst he kicked off his pants. Chanyeol’s attention slipped back to you, his palms skimming over familiar trails as he stripped you of your underwear. Crawling up onto the bed, he brought his body back against yours. It wasn’t long until your lips moved from his neck up to his lips, and Chanyeol groaned with the satisfaction of having your taste upon his tongue once more.
Suddenly, it stopped.
“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, sitting up and leaving him stranded below you with his lips still puckered mid-kiss. “I really do it!”
“Huh?”
“The hip thing! I never realised, but I just did it then.”
Chanyeol blinked several times before pointing down at his body. “Could you do it again right now? I was experiencing something then.”
“It’s your fault! You pointed it out to me.”
“Talk later? Meet me here now?” he begged, and you laughed, pushing him onto his back and throwing a leg over his waist, nestling your body with his.
You kissed him sweetly, and now that he didn’t feel so bereft with you back against him, he matched your smile when you rolled into him, your back arching.
“There you are.”
“You wait for me to do it?”
“Almost every time,” he confessed, drawing you back into the throes of your building passion. Closing his eyes as your lips moved to other parts of his body, he let out a little contented sigh.
