Summary: you look beautiful and the time feels right, so he decides to confess.
Warnings: sexual content, big dick mark, unprotected sex, he's in love with you, he's also a bit of a freak, proofread (kinda)
Word count: 1,6k
Song recs: juno by Sabrina Carpenter
A/N: I wrote this on a whim bc I miss him and and need him in the least biblical way possible. Enjoy
"can I tell you something?" His breathy whisper tickled your ear, giving you goosebumps all over. Marks hands roamed your sides, his firm fingers pressing into your skin as you listen to his shaky breathing.
“tell me.”
“I really like you.” His lips press against your ear lobe, heat spreading in the lower parts of your body. His chest is pressed against yours, hearts beating in unison as he kisses the back of your ear down your neck. “I love you actually.”
“You love me?”
Mark doesn’t know if it was the alcohol that bought on this confession or maybe the fact that you just looked especially good that night. But it clearly didn’t matter, especially when your face was so close to his. You can’t keep focus, not knowing whether to look at his eyes or lips and he quickly too notice, simply making the decision for you.
His lips melt into yours, the calm sound of his heavy breathing and the fire place cracking making your stomach flutter. Mark moves his hands to your hips, pressing your pelvis against his. His lips tie into yours almost too perfectly like it's meant to be, tongue smoothly sliding into your mouth naturally.
“I need you,” you whine softly.”
Mark nods, quickly taking off his suit jacket and throwing it on the couch behind him. Your hands fly to his chest, tugging at his tie pulling it off. Mark pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead on yours. His eyes light up watching you unbutton his shirt, brows scrunched in a desperate attempt to get it off.
He cracks a smile feeling your hands run up his body right to back of his neck, pulling him in for another deep kiss while your fingers tangle in his hair. Mark sneaks his hands around you, resting his large palms on your ass. He can’t help himself, the feeling of your plush ass drives him insane. You whine feeling him squeeze you, making him damn near rock hard, and you can feel it. You can feel how hard he is for you, and you want it so badly.
Marks fingertips bunch your dress in his hands, fisting the fabric as he kisses you. “I want you to touch me baby,” he says softly.
That was all you needed, immediately shoving the man on the couch behind you. Mark fell with grace, his light brown hair coving his face in the most elegant way possible. The fire lot his face, his pretty brown eyes looking at you. Mark watches you bunch your dress at your hips, climbing on him to straddle his lap. He can’t keep his hands to himself, immediately pushing the fabric up your legs, gripping your thick thighs.
“fuck,” you sigh. He looks like a dream under you. The way the light from behind flickers against his features does wonders for you. You can’t hold back, wishing for this moment for a long time. Mark doesn’t stop you from unbuckling his belt and undoing his dress pants that are a little too big for him.
The silence is comforting, nothing but the sound of your shaky breath as you palm his hard cock through his boxers. You pump him slowly through the fabric, watching his face twist in pleasure.
“yes baby just like that,” he sighs in pleasure.
You could watch him all day if you could, but you can’t, not when you’re dying to feel him stretch you open. “do you have any condoms?”
Mark gulps, shaking his head. He thought you’d be completely turned off, but his lips parted when you reached into his boxers, soft hands wrapping around his shaft. Mark watches you pull him out the fabric, nearly moaning seeing the size of him.
“fuck I’ve waited so long for this,” you whisper. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, the way you pulled up your dress revealing that you were in fact not wearing anything underneath. Your breathing was erratic, too excited to see the way the man looked at you while your lifted your hips, pressing his tip to your pussy.
A gasp leaves your lips, brows furrowed as you sink down on his cock. His hands are on your back and hip, gripping the fabric of your dress as he watches himself disappear inside you. Your body is hot, not only from the fireplace but from the way he’s looking at you.
“that’s it baby, deep breaths,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles on your thigh.
“you’re so big,” you whine softly. You press your hips down more, hands flying to his shoulders feeling him move deeper in you. He’s so overwhelming, but you can’t stop yourself from grinding, your body moving on Its own. “Fuck,” your whimper softly.
Marks grips your dress, pushing it further up your body. His breathing increases, heart shooting out of his chest as he watches you use him to pleasure yourself. You look so pretty in your formal attire, hair done, makeup done, wearing the necklace he bought for you. Your lips part, soft moans spilling as you moved your hips.
“God, I love you so much.” Mark tilts your chin down, kissing you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth. Your hips moved faster, moans falling into your mouth as he gripped your thigh tight. The kiss was hot and wet, both of your mouths absorbing the sinister sounds of pleasure. Mark pulls away from the kiss, your heavy panting becoming all the more noticeable.
“Just like that baby, you’re so good for me.”
Your body completely melted into his, hands gripping his shoulders tight. Mark loves the way your necklace falls into his face, you biting your lip softly as you ride him faster. Your whines turn into whimpers and moans, shaky sounds escaping your mouth just like he always wanted.
“Mark…oh my god.”
You’re so blinded by pleasure, you cant even tell when his thumb ended up in your mouth. Your plump lips wrapped around the digit, brows furrowed as you stared into his eyes. The man pulls his thumb out your mouth, saliva still connecting the two of you together.
“I love you so much,” he moans, other hand gripping your hip. “All mine, right?”
You nod fast, feeling yourself get even more turned on. You clench around him, hands trembling on his shoulders. “I-I’m so close mark,” you moan.
“You’re gonna cum on my cock? Like a good girl?” Mark holds your hips, thrusting into you like his life depended on it. Body hot, sweat on his brow while pleasures you. You tried to be quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to the room, but you just can’t control yourself anymore. He feels so good inside you, like he’s made for you.
“yes, yes. I’m your good girl..”
Mark keeps fucking you, his grunts and moans sounding like music to your ears. He wants to keep going forever, but that feeling starts brewing in his stomach. He’s so close he might explode if you squeeze around him one more time. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” he moans. Mark tries to lift you off his lap, but you remove his hands.
You say nothing when you push his body deeper into the couch and start riding him like there’s no tomorrow. Whines and whispers escape from both of your lips, the feeling of an orgasm so close you could taste it. You kiss him, tongue immediately going down his throat and he enjoys it, moaning into your mouth.
That’s when you feel it, the right ball in your stomach becoming undone, clenching around him nice and tight as you break the kiss, high pitch sounds bouncing off the walls and into his ears. Mark follows immediately after, cumming deep inside your tight cunt with his jaw dropping at the feeling.
You collapse on his body having completely sweating out your hair, dress, and makeup. You don’t have to look into a mirror to know your look a mess. Lipstick everywhere, sweat fucking up your makeup, dress wrinkled to an unrecognizable degree. Mark doesn’t look any better. His shirt is half way off, hair all over the place and now his once perfectly ironed slacks are wrinkled.
“Holy fuck,” you huff out, still trying to catch your breath. Mark looks up at you, brows raised with a pretty smile on his face. “Can’t believe we just did that.”
“it was bound to happen.” Mark’s eyes light up when you giggle. “I’m so in love with you.”
Regardless of the fact that you just had sex with him, you still can’t handle how mushy and romantic he is, his words making your flustered. Mark knows you can handle it, so without letting you respond, he kisses you. Lips molding with yours, his tongue on yours tasting you. It feels like you’re the only people in the world, the way he grips your waist, pulling your body closer to him.
Both of you know you cant stay in this room, but you don’t protest when he caresses your face, thumb on your lip pulling your mouth open along with your tongue. The man licks up your tongue slowly, drawing a breathy moan you. He wraps his lips around the wet muscle, sucking it softly making you clench around his no semi hard cock that’s still inside you. You fell him thrust into you softly, but you can’t let him knowing you want to.
“wait,” you say breathlessly, pulling away from his lips. “we-we can’t stay here.”
“we can if you wanna go for round two.”
You look at him, biting your lip softly. “you don’t think we’ll get in trouble?”
“I don’t care about getting in trouble.”
Against your better intuition, your lips lock with his once again, his hands all over your body continuing his confession for the rest of the night.
Summary: You and Mark have dated for a couple of years now and the other members of NCT see you as a sister, but the Dream members, they tease you and Mark, tagging you as the parents of the group.
Warnings: Possible language, teasing, sexual jokes, fluff.
When you and Mark first got together - after months of mutual obliviousness and painfully obvious stolen glances - everything moved at a gentle pace. There was no rush, no grand declarations. Just late-night messages and shared snacks.
Eventually, he introduced you to the rest of NCT.
You hadn’t expected to fit in so naturally, but somehow you did. Somewhere between shared meals and waiting around backstage, you stopped being “Mark’s girlfriend” and became family. A sister. A constant. You were there on the good days - the wins, the celebrations - and the bad ones, when practice ran too long or exhaustion sat heavy on everyone’s shoulders.
The older members would smile knowingly, the occasional comment slipping out about how you and Mark were “cute” or “well-matched,” paired with a laugh and a shake of the head.
Dream, however, took it to a completely different level.
Somehow, without either of you agreeing to it, you and Mark were labeled the parents of the group.
And they never let you forget it.
~~~~
You push open the door to the practice room quietly, the familiar sound of music and sneakers squeaking against the floor greeting you instantly. Dream are mid-run through choreography, bodies moving in perfect sync, until Jeno catches sight of you in the mirror.
“Oh,” he says loudly, smirk already forming. “Mum’s here.”
The music cuts abruptly.
Mark groans. “Please don’t.”
Too late.
Jaemin turns around, eyes lighting up as if you’ve just handed him ammunition. “Wow, you came to check on Dad at work?” he teases. “That’s so supportive.”
You drop your bag near the wall, folding your arms. “I came to watch practice. Not whatever this is.”
Renjun scoffs. “That’s what all parents say. Then they start judging.”
“Are you judging us?” Chenle gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “Because if so, I’ll clean my room. I swear.”
Mark’s ears are already red as he walks over to you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple like it might shield him from the chaos. It doesn’t.
Jisung grins. “Hyung, you’re way nicer when she’s around. It’s kind of suspicious.”
Jaemin hums. “Yeah. Almost like you’re trying to behave.”
“Trying?” Jeno adds. “Or failing?”
You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Mark. “Is this how you act when I’m not here?”
“They exaggerate,” he mutters, though the guilty smile gives him away.
Renjun tilts his head. “So who’s stricter? You or Mark?”
Before he can answer, Jaemin jumps in. “Oh, definitely her. Mark just pretends to be tough.”
“Hey!” Mark protests.
You shrug innocently. “Someone has to keep him in line.”
The room erupts.
“Ooooh,” Chenle sing-songs. “In line where, exactly?”
Mark chokes. “Why are you like this?”
Jaemin beams. “Because you’re in love. And it’s very obvious.”
You laugh, shaking your head as Mark hides his face in his hands. Despite the teasing, there’s warmth in it, affection wrapped in chaos. This is what it’s always been like with Dream.
Loud. Annoying. Ridiculously fond.
And judging by the way Mark squeezes your hand, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
synopsis: so maybe those few glasses of champagne and tequila wasn’t your smartest choice of beverages at your high school reunion. but how were you supposed to know that running into your childhood crushes absolutely wasted would have you dealing with the aftermath of making out with not one, but both within the same hour?
pairing: haechan x fem! reader & mark x fem! reader
genre: love triangle, childhood crushes au, college au, fluff, humor
word count: 7.4k
warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of alcohol, vaping, weed, jokes about death and just a 'hol lot of y/n being a dumb drunk
note: there’s really no plot to this, just pure thirst and chaos but then again, isn’t that all my fics ever🙃 (and god forbid any of my irls see this bc they'll know exactly who everyone is based off of💀)
[ playlist: all my friends - snakehips / feels - calvin harris / pretty please - dua lip / one kiss - dua lipa / leave the door open - bruno mars / nasty - ariana grande / streets - doja cat ]
IN YOUR DEFENCE, you weren’t planning on getting this drunk.
In fact, you remembered reassuring your group of friends about this the day before, emphasising your astounding hatred towards the very limited selection of the free alcoholic beverages available at the bar (namely, beer and wine).
Further backing up your case, you had initially turned up to your high school reunion an hour late with the lazy excuse of your last-minute decisions towards your outfit that day – which, considering your turbulent meltdowns about having no clothes at two in the morning, was a complete fucking lie – only covering up your actual reasonings of not wanting to face your high school year group.
You didn’t exactly have any particular reasons to avoid anyone – a matter of fact, you liked to think you got along with everyone back in the day, often bouncing around from friend group to friend group with shiny eyes, inviting smiles and friendly banter – but there was something about reuniting your cohort again after a year which felt awkward.
There was no doubt that everyone would have changed in some way shape or form.
Heck, you were a completely different person from when they last saw you in the body of that wide-eyed girl in the crisp white blouse with the conservative knee-length pleated skirt. Plus, judging by the daily scroll of your Instagram feed, many of your peers seemed to don an altered version of their high school selves as well – meaning you had to get to know everyone all over again.
You vaguely remember turning up at the congested bar next to your high school building. The entrance was decorated with popped bottles of champagne with only a few clean empty glasses left on the display tray. The rest are in the hands of the various levels of tipsy college kids packed together like a can of sardines in front of the bar, eagerly milking out the bar tab set by the committee. Despite your school renting out the entirety of the second floor, it felt a little too tight, almost claustrophobic inside as you discreetly tried to scan the drunken crowd for your usual group of friends. However, your search didn’t last long, resulting in you eventually giving up after a few seconds, opting to ease the mild squeamishness with some liquid courage.
The cheap champagne burned the back of your throat as you settled on painfully chugging the glass in mere seconds, sticking out your tongue in disgust. Regardless of your initial reaction to the first taste, you began lining up for another glass, maybe in hopes of finding your intoxicated friends swimming in the chaos.
“Oh my god, Y/N! Is that you?”
Your ears perked at the familial voice amid of the loud chatter, head whipping towards the warm beam of Huang Renjun – a longtime locker mate/bandmate during school. Crushing you into a tight hug, you momentarily thanked the higher power of the universe for sending at least an old buddy as your first very sober interaction.
Though you and Renjun had never exclusively shared the same social circle, your friendship went way back. It started from being in the school’s so-called “rock” band together to trauma bonding over some unfortunate extension English classes in middle school to being neighbouring lockers for the entirety of high school. You recalled Renjun being a wholesome-looking guy, uniform always neatly tucked in, hair short and well kept, so when you spotted his long bleached hair and a silver ring hanging off the left corner of his lip as you pulled away from his grasp, surprise was an understatement of your reaction.
“You pierced your lip!” you exclaimed, turning your face to various angles around him to have a closer look.
A hearty laugh escaped his lips, throwing his head back as he playfully modelled his new accessory with a childish smile, “I did! Though I would be lying if I said I got this voluntarily.”
You cocked your head at him as the two of you received your preferred beverage from the bar counter, gesturing for him to elaborate. Renjun paused, sipping on the overflowing bubbles of his beer before adding, “I lost a bet with Donghyuck.”
Lee Donghyuck, a name you would say you were well acquainted with. He was a popular figure with the female community of your school for his visuals and many other talents, an eye-catching part of Renjun’s circle and your childhood friend. Well, sort of.
The two of you met in second grade, the joyful period of a child’s life where everyone was automatically considered friends if you shared a class or your mothers exchanged more than two sentences and invited you to their birthday parties. Also meant, playing with the designated child of your mother’s chosen friend of the day until their hour-long conversation was over.
Considering the sheer amount of afternoons spent with Donghyuck throughout your elementary school days running around with his family puppy on the school grounds, you would think that would automatically deem the approval of the “childhood friend” title. But the two of you didn’t really talk outside of your forced interaction nor did you share the same lunchtime activities much to your pathetic heart’s dismay.
It would be a lie if you said you weren’t charmed by the warm scruffiness of the little boy, oftentimes guilty of shamelessly boring holes into the back of his head during class and daydreaming about your futures together instead of listening to your homeroom teacher. You had a feeling your mum knew of your little infatuation towards the boy, often sending you a knowing gaze after your weekly runarounds with him and after the mention of his name in conversation prompting you to believe that her coincidental run-ins with Donghyuck’s mother weren’t so accidental afterall.
Though growing out of your shorts and summer tunic dresses and into your somewhat maturer age of a teenager; the validation of the excuse of your mother’s budding friendship to catch him after school expired alongside the dissipating giddiness you had once held for him. Something you saw coming for a while as you found yourself seeing less of him around which came as no surprise as neither of you shared the same class nor the same friends as you naturally started gravitating to different parts of your enlarging year group.
Finishing off the remainder of your flat champagne, you raised your eyebrows at the boy, “Donghyuck? Haven’t heard that name in a while, how is he?”
Renjun hummed, fingers drumming on the sides of his beer glass, “Why don’t you ask him? He’s here today,” he began standing on the tips of his battered converses, peering around the bar for the boy in question.
You shook your head with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it. It’s going to be impossible to find him-”
On queue, Renjun hollered Donghyuck’s name at the back corner of the room, waving at a shadowed figure exaggeratedly. You weren’t even sure how he was able to spot him within the chaos so quickly when you were still left in search of your friends. But that wasn’t your biggest problem anymore as you recognised Donghyuck emerging from within the darkness, jokingly shoving past the large group of huddled and what you assumed to be intoxicated boys.
He didn’t look too different from the last time you met, maybe a few centimetres taller, skin sun-kissed from the recent summer weather but holy shit, was he still as hot as ever. If not more.
“Damn Y/N, is that you?”
You were too sober for this. Sure, you had started to feel the buzz peppering various parts of your face; but your emotions, the logical voice in your brain remained intact, with it blaring “DON’T FUCK UP!” in bold capital letters the closer he got.
Shoving your jitters further down your lame excuse of a brain, a playful smile was forced upon your lips, “The one and only.”
Donghyuck grinned, lightly pulling you into a welcoming embrace, catching you off guard, “It’s good to see you again.”
You could tell the alcohol had already hit his systems judging by the uncharacteristically physical greeting and eyes lazily half-lidded as he pulled away from your grasp. “Looks like someone’s had a bit to drink tonight?” you teased, eyeing the lingering closeness between the two of you.
Donghyuck chuckled, softly shaking his head, “I haven’t had too much, maybe a couple of glasses of champagne at school and a few beers here. What about you?”
“Only two glasses of whatever they’re serving at the bar,” you shuddered at the thought, placing your empty glasses down on the side of the countertop.
“So what I’m hearing is that you haven’t had enough yet,” Donghyuck sent a cheeky wink your way, completely forgetting about poor Renjun’s presence in the conversation as he lightly tugged at your sleeves back in front of the bar, ordering your preferred drinks with the bartender. Clinking your topped-up glasses with the boy, you wondered if making conversations with the boy was this easy before. It wasn’t like he was antisocial or judgemental during your high school years, maybe a little arrogant at times which initially caused your group of friends to have a slight dislike towards the boy.
“Y/N no,” you remembered your best friend Ningning immediately shutting down your thoughts followed by the excessive nods of your friends.
The five of you sat on the floor in front of your lockers, the smell of the freshly made fries Minjeong had bought from the deli next door wafting down the corridor as you had your heated discussion for the day. How you ended up on the topic of your resurfacing feelings for Lee Donghyuck was a whole other question of its own. (Ah, you remembered. Minjeong tripped down the stairs as you and Donghyuck exchanged smiles and pleasantries, whilst she panicked about her one fry which flew out of the cardboard box, all you could think about was him)
Ningning scrunched her eyes, lips formed into a sour expression, “He’s just so…”
“Egotistical?” Shuhua offered.
“Short?” Yunjin added, throwing a handful of fries in her mouth.
“Both,” Ningning affirmed. She patted your lap, a thin smile drawn on her face, “You’re too good for him Y/N.”
It was safe to say that the droplet of leaking feelings had shrivelled back up into your heart that day, both due to your friend’s confronting opinions towards the boy and the unapproachable aura he exuded. (Ok, maybe you admired his golden face from across the room from time to time but who could blame you? It wasn’t your fault his stupidly good looks started appearing at every extracurricular activity you signed up for that term)
A full glass’ worth of conversation passed at this point, and the both of you head deep into your storytelling of your crazy nights out. Bursts of booming laughter thundered as he described canon bombing into his university’s questionable lake and audible gasps sounded as you described your New Year's celebrations earlier that year. Maybe you were wrong about your skepticisms towards the boy during your schooling years, blaming your tendency to catastrophize any minor inconvenience to blow his inherent “unattainableness” out of proportion.
Pulling your phone out of your handbag to check the time, you were greeted with several missed calls and spammed messages from your friends, slapping you back to your original goal in mind.
“Everything alright?” Donghyuck’s face appeared beside your phone screen, eyes concentrated on your sudden change of expression.
“Uh-” you began typing your response to your group chat, reassuring them of your whereabouts in the heavily packed venue, ”-yeah. Yeah, sorry,” you clicked your phone shut, stuffing it back into your purse before facing him again, “Just reassuring a panicked group chat.”
He laughed, dipping his head in understanding, “I’m guessing I’ll have to let you go?”
You shrugged, offering him a small pout, “Unfortunately but hey, take a shot with me later?”
A soft smile littered Donghyuck’s face, hands squeezing the tops of your shoulders.
“Bet, I’ll come find you.”
NOTE TO SELF: Don’t go into the female restrooms during a big event in a relatively logical state of mind.
The girls' restrooms were a lively place for the residents of your school, always scented with the popular fumes of grape ice and strawberry watermelon vape, the tile floors littered with abandoned pairs of laddered stockings in the winter and forgotten multicoloured hydro-flasks perched on the benches. With quite the vaping addiction of your school, it was always a fun game of guess who when you took the trip to the restrooms during class, which clique was occupying the stalls together, which flavour they were attempting that day or what piece of drama you were going to be handed.
You realised that not much had changed when you found your friends huddling with quite the assortment of other girls in your year group in the bar restroom. The air was concocted with the nostalgic smell of blue raspberry vape and Maison Margiela, accompanied by loud loving gossip in the unoccupied stalls and the occasional drunken mirror selfies in front of the basin.
“Oh my gosh Y/N! You’re alive!” Ningning screeched, glomping you into a tight hug, “I was about to get up on the tables to find you out there.”
“Sorry, I missed your calls,” you wheezed as Minjeong came over to peel the girl off of your body, “I didn’t realise my phone was on silent.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” Shuhua slurred attaching herself to Minjeong’s side, “You must’ve been bouncing around like you usually do, judging by how long it took you to find us.”
“Yeah,” – if bouncing around meant from one drink to another with the same person – “You could say that.”
“Yunjin said hi by the way,” Minjeong interrupted, pulling up a photo of your absent friend striking a cute pose in front of a sushi train in Hawaii, “She said to drink on her behalf, which I don’t think is the best idea.”
“That girl’s probably drunk right now,” Ningning snickered, turning to face the large mirror to reapply her lip gloss, “But I’ll take any excuse to drink more.”
Minjeong raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Didn’t you say that you were saving your liver for next weekend?”
Ningning merely shrugged, waving her off before grabbing ahold of your hand with an animated wiggle, squabbling about something along the lines of you looking too sober. You ran into many old faces on the short journey to the bar front, hearty laughter and juicy gossip unconsciously spilled and overheard from the neighbouring conversations (Though whether it was true or not, you weren’t sure, but considering the topics of accidental pregnancies and very messy breakups – maybe it would be best to wish for the latter)
You were on your fourth glass of champagne at this point, something you couldn’t understand as every sip you took attempted to change your mind; it really just tasted the same – like fucking ass. The state of yourself on the other hand arguably has made some progress, to your best friend’s delight. You had joined in on Ningning’s nonsensical babbling a half glass ago, nodding along to whatever came out of her mouth with a small giggle tickling up your throat. She leaned into your ear, slurring some muddled sentence that was drowned out by the screaming lyrics of ABBA. A nod came as a reflex for you, a dazed smile tugging at your lips.
She gave you a little squeeze on your shoulders, shuffling past a sea of people and to the other end of the room. The world seemed to move faster than what your brain could handle at that given moment, only registering the disappearance of your friend as well as the foreign group of kids gathered around you a few minutes later.
There you were, at square one once again, like a clueless fish stuck between the school of other wandering creatures. Except, replace the ocean with flat champagne and cheap house beer.
With an exasperated sigh, you took a step back from the chattering circle, but what you thought was an empty space was in fact a person. A person with a full glass of beer – well, half full after you knocked into it.
“Shit- Fuck- I’m so sorry, is your drink o…kay?” Your words trailed off as you came face to face with your ex-best friend Mark Lee.
Ah yes. Mark Lee and Y/N L/N, quite the known duo during your middle school days. Inseparable, protective and unanimously voted as most probably secretly dating or housing feelings for each other – which to be fair, wasn’t exactly false.
Your rather complicated feelings for the boy began in fifth grade when the boy slipped you a silly doodle of a duck in a top hat during math class. The two of you were seated a table apart from each other with your respective seatmates so you weren’t too sure of why he specifically chose you to gift his work of art but regardless, you giggled, pencilling in the words “Taffy the Duck” on the top of the page to pass back to him. Your little note passings continued throughout the rest of elementary school, leading to middle school where in your despair realised that you shared zero classes with the boy. Despite this, your friendship stood as strong as ever, hanging out during lunchtimes and visiting the local 7/11 after school until well – it wasn’t.
There was no pivotal moment when you stopped being as close as you were; in fact, it was a question that remained frustratingly unanswered throughout the years. It wasn’t like the two of you ever argued or had a major fallout – which could’ve given you a proper reason to either make up or talk to him again – but rather be described as a painstakingly slow drift, enough to the point where it was unnoticeable. Maybe it started with the branching of different friend groups then led to your attention on your respective crushes at the time – which now that you recollected on your past, think that your hidden feelings for each other at the time were the only thing holding you together.
Sure, you had attempted to revive your friendship at times, starting with the ever-so-awkward first hellos in the stairwell to a couple of sentences exchanged before classes started in your final year, but all efforts seem to have unravelled as you graduated from school and went on your separate ways, until today.
“Oh hey, Y/N?”
You handed him a napkin from the bar, “Mark.”
Shaking the excess residue off of his hand, he mumbled a quiet thanks as he took the napkin from you. You wanted to die, really. As a matter of fact, you were convinced that it would be a much more pleasant experience than silently standing like some dumb wooden doll in front of your ex-best friend, as he cleaned up after your mess.
“So,” he cleared his throat, “It’s been a while huh?”
You gulped down the last sip of your drink, feeling the burn of the champagne trickling down your oesophagus, “Yeah, I mean the last time we talked was, one and half years ago?” – Technically, it was his birthday a little less than a year ago when the two of you last exchanged messages. It entailed your short greeting of “happy b’day mark!” and the equally blunt response of “haha thanks y/n”. However according to the Cambridge dictionary, a conversation is defined as a discussion about a particular subject and well, nothing was discussed.
“Well, how have you been? Your brother doing well?” Mark passed his fingers through his dark locks, turning his full attention to you.
You were surprised he remembered your brother, with him starting school not long before you guys stopped being friends, “He’s doing well, grown up a lot since you last saw him,” you snorted, remembering his little presence trailing behind the two of you after school, begging for you to buy him Mcdonald's fries, “How about you? You attend NCIT right?”
“Yep, studying Business,” he rolled his eyes, “Quite the regretful choice. How about you?”
“Communications at Yonsei,” you responded, “Though, I did originally transfer from Business, due to as you said. Quite the experience.”
Mark chuckled knowingly, raising his glass to take a sip of his remaining drink, “It suits you. Communications that is.”
“What? Because I’m loud?” you joked.
He shook his head, “You always had great ideas, people always looked to you for advice.”
A warm smile made its way onto your face. It was a reassuring phrase to hear, short but impactful nonetheless. Especially as you struggled to figure out your path after school, switching from one faculty to another in hopes of finding the one that didn’t make you want to throw yourself off a cliff side. Communications was a spontaneous jump but it was the only choice that made you confident in your abilities so hearing this sort of external validation felt nice, especially from him.
Mark returned the gesture, eyes crinkling into the tender crescent shape. Despite the maturing of his facial structure, he still housed the same childlike smile. The one which stretched to the outskirts of his cheeks, softening his overall cold exterior. The one that made you fall for him in the first place.
“How come I didn’t catch you at school earlier?”
You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, “O-Oh, I turned up pretty late so I missed out on the terrace drinks.”
“That makes more sense,” Mark hummed in affirmation, eyeing you up and down, “I feel like I definitely would’ve noticed you if you were there.”
What.
“Tequila shot?” he offered.
You bat an eye, “Uh, sure.”
YOU SEE, you were an affectionate drunk – most often seen clinging onto your friends’ bodies for dear life or littering kisses on their cheeks towards the peak of your night outs. You concluded your drastic personality change was due to the massive confidence boost and the silencing of the practical parts of your brain, meaning that your already concerning amount of extrovertedness maxed the scale.
Before that evening, this quirky little trait of yours never caused you harm, only resulting in the multitude of ‘friends’ being made in the club’s restroom line or several new followers on Instagram the morning after – half of which you barely remember the existence of.
It was barely eleven when Donghyuck snatched you away from your friends, keeping what you thought to be an empty promise of taking a shot with you. Although you were the one originally suggesting your actions, you won’t lie that you held low expectations for him to follow through – most definitely considering his current state of mind.
Clinking your shot glasses together, you downed the liquor in mere seconds, followed by the soothing taste of the lime, melting away the burn that chased up your throat. An electrified laugh sounded from your left as the familial chords of Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. Donghyuck held no hesitation to grab your hands, dragging you to the front of the speakers as he playfully serenaded you throughout the way.
You could only shyly giggle as he twirled you around the circling crowd, blatantly avoiding his grand gestures for you to sing along. But your resistance didn’t last long as the chorus hit, finding yourself swaying to the beat of the music, accepting the enclosing distance between your bodies. You peered up to meet his eyes, still filled with the childlike wonder and life from the early days of your friendship to the sharp slope of his nose to his scattered moles down to his supple lips.
“You know Hyuck, you’re really hot.”
A satisfied grin laced Donghyuck’s lips, “Am I now?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You weren’t exactly sure what initially prompted you to blurt your relatively forward words to the unsuspecting boy. Maybe it was the lingering fresh taste of the lime on your tongue. Maybe it was the way he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip to soak up any last droplets of the liquor or simply because you just wanted to. Either way, what you didn’t expect was for a smirk to tug against Donghyuck’s lips, stepping closer to your body, eyes flickering to your lips as a finger grazed the underside of your chin. He momentarily wavered a couple centimetres away from your lips, warm breath fanning against your face before his lips met yours.
The once horridly ear-deafening music of the room with the bubbling chatters of your cohort seemed to fade into the background as the ghost of Donghyuck’s hands skimmed the bare parts of your waist. His tousled curls tickled the sides of your cheeks as he nipped at your jawline, pinning your body firmer against the wall.
“God forbid if our mothers saw us right now,” you let out a slight gasp as he kissed the sensitive part of your neck.
“Well, good thing our mothers aren’t here to see us, right?” a low chuckle rumbled from his throat before reconnecting your lips again, his tongue fighting for its place in your mouth. Your fingers gripped at the back of his head, tugging at the strands to elicit a staggered moan from the boy, filling your chest with a weird sense of pride and definitely not helping your already inflated ego.
You could conclude you had certainly passed your tipsy stage, with the last shot of tequila seeping into your system and pushing your brain’s irrationality almost a bit too far. You remembered once hearing your tenth-grade biology teacher talk about the effects of alcohol on the human body and how it altered your brain’s chemical composition. Specifically, how it lowered an individual’s inhibitions and social rationalisation.
And considering your ongoing messy but undeniably hot lip-locking with Lee Donghyuck, you began regretting zoning off in the latter part of that science lesson (not really. You did manage to beat your personal record in 2048) where she had subsequently explained how to piece together the drunken jumble in your brain as the following few words which tumbled out of your mouth, you would inevitably regret.
“Wait, I need to pee.”
YOU HAD TO ADMIT. It was quite scary the amount of things you managed to figure out about yourself whilst severely intoxicated.
One, you really couldn’t hold your bladder. Evident by the frequent trips to the restroom every thirty minutes or the number of times you had bumped into the same group of girls gathered outside the basins, offering you a hit of their neon-coloured vape and a piece of their drunken secrets.
Two, realising the sheer amount of time and money wasted spent trying to figure yourself out during your high school years as the one night of limitless alcoholic beverages seemed to be a confronting personality test in itself.
Three, the emotions you spent years persuading to simmer down in your heart were capable of rapidly firing out in mere seconds alongside the memory bank of shitty pick-up lines and your apparent drunken rizz that went through the roof.
Four, maybe your best friend’s words of you supposedly being in your “hoe phase” were really true because at that moment, you really, really wanted to kiss someone – more specifically, Mark Lee.
It wasn't exactly the best course of action, considering your heated make-out session with Donghyuck not too long before – which you left halfway through, might you add. But wise decisions weren’t things you were great at making. Especially a few too many glasses of champagne and spirits deep.
According to your very skewed sense of time, it was around midnight when you stumbled into Mark once again, this time hidden within the shadows behind a pillar in the corner with another drink in his hand. Not many people lingered around this part of the room. You guessed it was due to the immobile bodies sprawled across the dingy carpet a few metres in front and a frustrating lack of both music and alcohol. With a light trip in your step, you made your way towards the boy.
“Oh my gosh Mark! What are you doing here?”
A concerned grimace appeared upon Mark’s lips, prompting him to place his drink on the carpeted floor to steady your rocking body. The room had begun spinning at this point in time, with Mark’s face distorting ever so slightly to your hilarity.
A giggle bubbled up your throat, followed by your hands which gravitated towards the poor boy’s face, poking various parts of his features in such fascination. Mark could only sigh, registering his sheer lack of control in the situation, as he sat you on the plastic chair.
A wave of peace washed over your bodies for a few minutes, with Mark quietly sipping on the remainder of his drink whilst you traced your fingers across his jawline. Though much to his despair, the calm before the storm barely lasted three minutes as your loud ass mouth began itching to dominate your brain.
“Mark, has anyone ever told you how fucking hilarious you are?”
Mark deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest, “I haven’t said anything.”
“SEE?!” You bounced out of your seat, “A fucking knee slapper that one!”
Another sigh escaped his lips, getting ahold of your shoulders again to place you back down, “Y/N, how did you manage to even get like this?”
“You know Donghae? Haechang? Whatever his name is-”
“Donghyuck.” Mark corrected, eyebrows furrowing at the mention of his name, “What did that overgrown cabbage patch kid do to you?”
“Relax, he just bought me a shot…” You drew out your words before pouting, “Or two, and maybe a couple drinks before that.”
Mark shook his head, patting your head, “I’m gonna get you some water.”
“Nooo! Don’t go, you’re so sexy!” You latched yourself onto his waist, fingers twisting around the belt loops of his jeans.
You could feel him visibly freeze on the spot, occasionally twitching nervously the closer your hands lingered to his crotch. You staggered up from your seat again, hands grazing his torso to wrap around his neck. Despite only a part of his face being illuminated by the light behind the pillar, it was enough to make out his parted lips and widened eyes.
Just like Hyuck, you realised how much Mark had grown into his mature face over the years. His cheekbones were more prominent, and his hair styled with the hard gel he refused to use in middle school. You reached to pass a stray strand across his forehead, though your eyes never left his and your lips inching closer towards his.
“You’re drunk, Y/N.”
You shrugged, eyes flickering down to his lips, “I wasn’t drunk when I wanted to kiss you.”
“And when was that?”
“Middle school, high school,” You paused, pondering for a second, “After graduation.”
A moment of shock flashed across the boy’s face, lips partly ajar and what seemed like a rollercoaster of emotions tumbling within his eyes. You had always questioned what his response would’ve been to a potential confession back in the day; maybe he would’ve reciprocated your drawn-out feelings and lived as a happy couple to this day, or if you wanted to be pessimistic, suffered the horrors of a toxic middle school relationship and be forever traumatised by love for the rest of your life; or maybe he would’ve rejected your feelings and just remained as an awkward pair of “besties”.
There was a little voice shrieking from the depths of your brain to shut the fuck up, most probably belonging to your sober self trying to save your face. However, it seemed as though the mystery to your decades-long question would be answered that night as Mark chuckled, clearing his throat.
"Middle school me would've gone crazy hearing this."
You knew you were definitely wasted at that moment, his words of reciprocation to your elementary school feelings flying over your head and rather hyperfocused on the warmth of his embrace and the subtle gulp of nervousness he took.
"What about present-day Mark?” You murmured, your breath hitting his lips, “Is this making him crazy too?"
"Absolutely insane."
You were reminded of your friends’ comments on your drunken rizz, with apparently any form of embarrassment and dignity thrown into the gutter to crash and burn. With the amount of unknown dms you had woken up to the morning after drinking, you’d think you would’ve learnt your lesson by now – but your drunken alter ego was a stubborn bitch.
A bitch who definitely needed some kind of therapy.
As Mark smashed his lips onto yours, it was then you were hit by your mother’s words about drinking responsibly. Obviously, to avoid alcohol poisoning, potentially blacking out and passing out on the side of the road, but most importantly, to avoid involving yourself in sticky situations in which your sober self had to deal with the aftermath.
But how were you supposed to anticipate that the aftermath of a fuckload of champagne and tequila shots was going to have you hooking up with your childhood crushes at your school reunion?
Oh, and blackout whilst you were at it.
YOU WEREN’T GOING TO LIE, waking up in the comfort of your sheets came as a surprise for your tired self.
You were quite proud of yourself for making it back in one piece, or even back at home at all and not passing out on the side of the road somewhere, considering the rather large gap in your memory and the fact that you were most definitely still drunk when you woke up.
There was a slight wobble in your step as you made your way over to the kitchen, head pounding and face still numb as you took the first miraculous sip of water. Your phone screen lit up with a bomb of message notifications and Instagram tags from last night, in which you nervously opened your active group chat.
[ yunjin ] did i miss anything?
[ shuhua ] i shit talked about ppl with aeri and somi whilst high
[ ningning ] yk i don’t think i recall parts of last night
[ you ] i mean,, understandable. u were pretty fucked
[ minjeong ] y/n wrestling tongues with donghyuck was the most unexpected for me
[ shuhua ] you what😭
[ you ] we are not mentioning that…
[ ningning ] wait i swear it was mark, was it not?
[ yunjin ] lol plot twist: it was both
[ you ] …
[ minjeong ] YOU MADE OUT WITH BOTH OF THEM!??!?!?!
You chose to shut off your phone at that moment, predicting the bloodbath of capitalised screams and spammed Facetime calls from the group. Which, in all honesty, you severely lacked the willpower to deal with.
A soft shuffle of slippers sounded at the kitchen entrance, and you turned to face your mother. Still in her pink fluffy pyjamas, drowsily waved as she made her way to the fridge, delicately opening the door to grab the milk.
“How was last night?” she asked, making her way to the milk frother.
You hummed, walking to the coffee machine with a mug in hand. “It was…”
An absolute clusterfuck of chaos – would be the correct answer. But telling your mother you had drunkenly made out with the sweet little son of her old friend and the name of a boy she hadn’t heard from for half a decade probably wasn’t the best piece of news to be told first thing in the morning – if at all.
You slipped a capsule into the machine with a crack, half haphazardly pressing buttons on the top before a mellow whir filled the silence, “... Interesting.”
A short chuckle resonated inside the refrigerator door, “What did you do this time?”
You scoffed, offended by the direct jab of her question, “Hey! I don’t always get into trouble!”
“So you didn’t do anything last night?”
You groaned, pouring the foamed milk into the coffee mug, “Well, no…” Dragging on the o, you passed the mug to your mum, huffing as you sat on the countertops, “How can you always tell?”
“I think I’ve heard enough drunken antics from you to know,” she took a sip from her mug, raising her eyebrows at your phone lock screen, “And I think the amount of notifications you’re receiving says a lot too,”
You reached over the end of the countertop, swiping your phone with a roll of your eyes. Your once pretty lock screen of you and your friends had been bombarded by the stacks of message notifications, fulfilling your prediction of incessant exclamation marks and illegible keyboard smashes. However, one contact profile stood out from the rest – that being a concerned Renjun.
[ renjun ] u feeling alright after yesterday?
[ you ] physically, pretty decent.
[ you ] mentally, very confused.
[ renjun ] haha fair, u did seem pretty wasted before u left
His message made you pause, attempting to dial back your inefficient memory to when you left the venue.
Did you even see Renjun before you left? Pfft, who were you even kidding – you didn’t even have any recollection of how you got home in the first place.
[ you ] remind me how i got home..? :)))
[ renjun ] … mark left u with minjeong who called u an uber home
[ renjun ] god, how much do u remember?
[ you ] … not a lot
[ renjun ] u free wednesday? i think we need a debrief
“IS IT TRUE that you kissed both Mark and Donghyuck at the reunion?”
Now. When you agreed to get a casual drink with Renjun the following Wednesday, you had expected a few questions about your little flings with his friends to come up in conversation. But boy, did you fail to prepare for such bluntness so early on.
“H-how the fuck- did you- know?” Choking on the sharp intake of the unmixed gin at the bottom of your cocktail, the calm approach you had rehearsed on the way over to the bar fell apart as your response came out as a desperate splutter of coughs and stutters.
Renjun threw you a sidelong look, chucking the pathetic remains of the stale popcorn at your figure, which you barely dodged.
“Because those horny fuckboys told me, how else?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, the accentuation of the word fuckboys making you feel rather defensive over your drunken behaviour, “Just for the record, I don’t usually go around sucking faces with every hot guy I see.”
“I never accused you of doing so.”
A smug look settled on Renjun’s face, clearly amused by your unfortunate situation judging by the quirk of his lips as you reached for your drink once again.
“You are insufferable.”
“So-” Renjun dragged on, resting his elbows against the tabletop, “Who was the better kisser, hm?”
The alcoholic concoction got caught in your throat once again, sending both you and your rapidly declining self-preservation into a downward spiral. The straightforwardness of the boy is one of the contributing factors, the rest being the rather vivid flashbacks of your liaisons a few nights prior.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked about this before – in fact, you recalled it being one of the first questions shoved into your face when you picked up your friends’ calls. However, whether you gave them the answers they were desperately seeking for, you weren’t sure because simply. You weren’t exactly certain about how to answer it either.
“I cannot believe that you hooked up with both your childhood crushes and managed to mess up both interactions,” you remembered Shuhua splutter incredulously through your FaceTime call with the approving nods of the rest following shortly after.
“I just- how did you get the courage to pull the two hottest guys in our year whilst being the drunkest you had ever gotten?”
“It was because I was the drunkest I had ever been,” you grumbled in response, rolling your eyes at your screen, “I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t hook up with them again?”
You chose to remain silent for Ningning’s question, neither wanting to directly confirm or deny any theorised accusations which plagued your best friends’ minds, but, with the growing giddiness which reflected on their faces, you realised that no amount of silence could ever hide your real thoughts from your friends, prompting the passing notion that maybe the silence was actually meant for you and your restless little brain.
Shaking away your thoughts, you turned back to Renjun, “Why are you so interested in this anyway?”
Renjun slurped the last droplets of his cocktail, eyebrows raised in amusement, “Well, aside from the fact that you chose my two best friends as your hookups for the night – which, may I add, coincidentally happens to be both your childhood crushes – Let’s just say those two aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”
Your lips parted from the straw, “Aren’t on good terms?”
As far as you remembered, the three of them had been best friends since early middle school – a fact that made you want to coil up into a shameful ball of nonexistence – you recalled seeing them on the soccer field at lunch, oftentimes doubling over themselves over something on Donghyuck’s phone or the rare exchanges of shy hellos and flustered smiles when they had met up with Mark as he dropped you off in front of your classroom.
Despite the drift in friendship from your end, Mark’s friendship with Donghyuck had always seemed to remain close – which, considering their shared activities of partying, sports and residing in the same social circle, made sense.
Noticing your puzzlement towards his revelation, he added, “Believe it or not, they fought over the same girl a few months ago.” Renjun popped the fries in his mouth as if he wasn’t casually spilling his best friends' secrets to a girl he randomly reunited with a couple days ago, “which is funny because that’s literally what’s happening right now.”
You groaned, slinking further into the wooden seat with your head buried into your hands, “Great. So what you’re saying is that I’ve just further ruined your guys’ friendship because of some silly drunken mistake.”
“I guess you could say that.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Oh, lovely. What a great reassurance to hear.”
“I was just offering my pure honesty, no harm intended.”
The two of you slipped into a comfortable silence, ordering the last deserving round of the cheap happy hour cocktails before it was too late. As you waited for your orders to be delivered, Renjun spent the time scrolling through the photos of their drunken nights out, replaying the short clips of Donghyuck with a traffic cone over his head and his own unfortunate events of being rolled around the empty city in a stolen shopping cart.
With the number of snorts and giggles exchanged, it felt like no time had passed since your high school days – except for the increasing recklessness between both parties.
You began retelling your version of your nights out, from the gasps extracted as you mentioned witnessing a random street brawl in an alleyway to the disapproving tuts of his tongue about your case of being stranded on the side of a highway at three am.
“You know Y/N? You really are the bringer of chaos.”
You could only chuckle in response as you reached for your phone, “Trust me, I’m not that bad.”
However, as you unlocked your phone to read through your missed notifications for the evening, you realised that maybe you should fix your habit of making bad decisions whilst severely intoxicated, as what you found waiting on your lock screen served as a painful reminder of quite possibly your stupidest mistake yet.
Noticing your sudden change of demeanour, Renjun frowned, “Hey, is everything alright?”
You could only bat an eye, pushing your phone to his side of the table for him to read.
Yeah, you took it back. You really were the bringer of chaos.
a/n: bro u don't even understand.. this has been sitting in my wip docs for like more than a year😭 but i finally forced myself to write and post something on this app that wasn't a longass smau OIHFOIWEHF anyways thank you for reading!! don't hesitate to leave a comment and rb this post if you liked it🥲
▸ Now Playing: Puzzle Piece (listen for best reading experience! ☺)
The quiet click of the door echoes through the first front room of your apartment. You’ve been passed out for an hour on the heathered couch, waiting for your boyfriend to return from the studio. He sets his gray backpack down on the hardwood floor by the door. His stuffed monkey keychain jingles as he sets it down, the same stuffed monkey that you bought for him on your first anniversary.
He sees your sleeping form and his heart swells with how cute you look all cuddled up on the couch, but his elation turns into bittersweet feelings when he realizes you were probably waiting for him to come home and do your nighttime routine together. He slowly and carefully closes the door behind him and slowly walks over to you, still soundly asleep.
“Oh, baby,” He mumbles, “I’m sorry that I stayed so late. You should’ve gone to bed.” He tells you. He considers letting you sleep, but as AC turns on he decides how to make it up to you since it can’t be so comfortable sleeping on the segmented couch. He removes your blanket and pushes an arm under your back and one under your legs to pick you up. As he hoists you up in his arms, he makes a quiet oomph sound, even though he picks you up with ease. He’s mindful not to wake you as he passes all of the fixtures that remind him of the memories you’ve made in this house together. As he passes one of the outlets, he’s reminded of the time you were in a rush to get out of the house, and as you put your earring on you dropped the other and it fried the outlet and he let out a small, breathy laugh as he thinks about the memory. When he sees the door to the bathroom he thinks about all the early mornings and late nights you spent doing your routine, brushing your teeth in the exact same pattern (it’s a habit you picked up from each other).
“Mark?” You mumble you’ve woken up, clearly. Whether it was the walk or the laugh that made you wake up, you don’t know.
“Shh, baby. I’m just getting you to bed. Don’t worry.” He consoles you, afraid that you’d be scared when you’re going somewhere without moving. In his arms, you enter your room and he places you down on the bed. He switches off the overhead light and flicks on the pink salt lamp nestled in the corner.
“What happened?” You ask groggily. You sit up sleepily and see him darting around the room, cleaning things up and getting things situated to go to bed.
“You fell asleep on the couch, love.” He explains.
You see him heading to leave the room. “Where are you going?” Still groggy.
“Lay back down, I’m just going to brush my teeth and I’ll come cuddle with you.” Satisfied, you lay back down. You hear the click of the light switch and the whoosh of the water as he wets his toothbrush. You’re counting the second until his warm body comes back so that you can give him a sleepy kiss and then fall back to blissful slumber. You hear his footsteps coming back into your room and you see his dimly lit shape in the doorframe. Back in the bed, you snuggle closer to you and you push your face into the curve of his neck. His familiar smell comforts you, still not awake and not wishing to be.
“‘Love you…” You murmur to him, at a barely audible level.
He responds with what you always expect, but never get bored of: “I love you too, baby.” The pet name makes your heart flutter.
you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.
pairing: mark lee x fem! reader
genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.
wc: 12k (11.926)
warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic
playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz
a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)
When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.
There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.
Step one – cry it out.
“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.
“Why’d you say that?”
“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”
“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.
“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.
“Yeah, but–”
“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.
He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.
First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.
Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.
And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.
And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.
“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.
“You know I hate cookies and cream!”
“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.
And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.
Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.
Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.
“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.
“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”
“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.
“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”
And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.
It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.
“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.
Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.
“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.
“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”
“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.
Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”
Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.
“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.
Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.
And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.
And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.
Couldn’t he forget about that too?
Step three – block his number.
The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.
Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.
Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.
So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.
“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.
Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”
“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.
“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.
“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.
“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.
“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”
“Mark–”
“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”
The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.
“Mark?”
“Hm?”
“You still there?”
“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.
“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?
“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.
“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”
You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.
“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.
“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”
It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.
“What was it?”
“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.
“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”
The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.
“Good night, Mark.”
“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.
He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.
And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.
Step four – date someone new.
“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.
“So…?”
A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.
“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”
“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.
“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”
“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.
“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”
“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.
“I said he asked about you.”
“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”
Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.
“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”
“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”
“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”
Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.
Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”
Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.
“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”
“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”
“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”
“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.
“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”
“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.
“No, that’s not it–”
“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.
“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.
“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”
“I have you,” you try.
“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”
You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.
Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.
Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”
“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“
And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.
And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.
The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.
“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.
Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.
Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?
“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.
“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.
“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.
And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.
You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.
Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.
It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.
Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?
After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.
Step five – avoid him at all costs.
Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?
Wrong.
Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?
And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.
When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.
“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.
You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.
“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.
Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”
Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.
“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.
“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”
Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.
Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.
It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.
You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.
You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.
You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.
“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”
Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”
“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”
The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.
At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.
“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”
“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”
The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.
“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.
“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”
Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”
“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.
“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.
Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”
“Here, of all places?”
“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”
Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.
“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”
“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.
“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”
He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”
“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.
“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.
And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.
“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.
“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”
“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.
A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”
His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.
And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.
“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.
Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.
“I love you,” he says.
And isn’t that all that’s needed?
A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?
“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”
“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”
“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.
“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.
Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.
“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”
And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.
Where do broken hearts go?
Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.
“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.
“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”
“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.
“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”
You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.
You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.
“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.
Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.
“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.
That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.
And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.
He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.
“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.
“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.
“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.
Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.
“Mark?”
“Hm?”
“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”
“Even us?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.
“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.
“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”
Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”
Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.
You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.
Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.
cw: smut, street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff, mention of other idols, slight allusions to a toxic ex, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, mark's lowkey a big flirt, switch!mark, switch!reader, auralism, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, praising, teasing, marking, fingering, semi public sex, car sex, oral sex (giving/receiving), exhibitionism (barely), multiple orgasms, protected sex, aftercare, way more plot than i expected, lmk if i missed anything
[9:16 PM] FRIDAY
"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.
"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.
"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.
"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.
"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.
"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would side with her.
"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.
Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.
"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.
With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.
The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.
"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.
You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore.
"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.
"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.
"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.
You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.
The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.
You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.
"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.
"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.
"Wow, the princess actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.
"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.
You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug.
"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.
"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.
"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here like a few weeks ago."
"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.
You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.
"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.
"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started following behind Nyla and Summer as they wandered off.
"How do you figure?"
"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.
The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. All cars of different makes and models lined the sides of the track. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.
"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.
You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.
"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her.
"Yeri, duh," she answered.
"You sure that was a good choice?" he teases.
"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her."
"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.
"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno says.
"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.
You spotted the back of Haechan's head, speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.
"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.
"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.
"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.
"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.
Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.
"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.
"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.
"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says, impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.
"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.
Way back.
Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first dig.
Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the night you met after you snuck out to the first car meet.
"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive, he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said.
"But-"
"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" Johnny asked.
"No, I don't know Mark."
"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone.
"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark joked.
"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked.
"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you.
"Oh really? What else has he said?"
"You're one hell of a driver."
"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.
People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R at the spray-painted line that served as the starting and finish line.
Chenle stood in front of them, looking at both drivers. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars. Haechan burns out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle drops his arms, and both speed off past him down the road.
Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again, and before you could even think about it, you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.
"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.
Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.
"I just got in yesterday, but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."
"Consider me surprised."
You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.
"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.
"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."
"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"
"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.
You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.
The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.
"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."
"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says before excusing himself to provide Haechan with moral support.
You don't know why fluttering kicks up in your stomach at his words, and you can't fight the smirk that stretches across your face as you watch him walk away. But you try to ignore it and go to congratulate Yeri on her win.
[10:32 PM]
"Okay but like I almost had her," Haechan continues to explain.
You hadn't been listening to Haechan, finding yourself too entranced with looking at Mark talking to Jungwoo and Yuqi a few feet away from you; you didn't even notice Nyla approaching.
"So like were you two a thing?" Nyla asks, startling you.
"What? Me and Mark?" you furrow your brows, "No, no, we were just friends."
"You were close?" she asks.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that." you tell her.
"This one yours?" Mark asks, getting your attention.
"I'm standing next to it, aren't I?" you reply, running your hand over the top of your car.
"And as good as you look doing it, I just wonder if you're still as good at driving it as I remember."
"You think I lost my touch while you were away?" you push yourself away from your car, shortening the distance between the both of you.
Mark shrugs, "You tell me," he smirks.
"You know I'm more show than tell," the corners of your lips turn up.
"Let's just settle with $200 for now, nothing too serious."
"Afraid I'd clean you straight out?" you teased, "Fine by me."
Everyone's now tuned into the exchange between the two of you, a mix of reactions to what was going on with you and Mark.
"Oh shit, this is gonna be good," Haechan slid off the hood of his car, engaging in the action.
"Are they really doing this right now?" Renjun asks.
"You best believe they are. Time to make a profit—Place your bets now!" Yangyang began yelling into the crowd as you and Mark started your cars.
"You two ready?" Ten asks, standing in front of your vehicles at the starting line.
"Unless Mark's having second thoughts," you look over at Mark in his car.
Mark smirked, "Are you?"
"Hell no," you revved up your engine.
With Ten's signal, your foot hovers over the gas pedal. Bringing his hands down, you and Mark take off down the runway.
You're instantly transported back to the summer nights you and Mark spent driving around abandoned warehouses and garages.
You remember staying out for hours—most times til the sun came up, trying to perfect drifting. The amounts of tires you blew out and dents you inflicted on the car you had then led the two of you to spend your days in your father's garage, repairing the damage.
You prepare yourself for the turn coming up on the track that had been carved out. It's almost as if you and Mark move in perfect sync as you shift your gears. Your tires glide on the concrete, smoothly drifting your car around the corner, a bit of smoke trailing behind you from the burning rubber.
With as fast as you were both going, you should've expected the race to end as soon as it started. And when you both drove over the finish line, it was almost hard to tell who won. But you had Mark by a fender.
"I see you have forgot I always win too," You say to Mark as Ten hands you the money, "But that's the first real race I've had in a while, so thank you for that."
"If you're really that appreciative then how about we go again," Mark offers.
"I don't wanna take anymore of your money, Mark," you say teasingly.
He rolls his eyes before leaning out of his car, "If you really don't, how about if I win, you let me take you out."
It was the last thing you expected to hear come out of Mark's mouth. You would almost describe his demeanor as cocky, but you've seen cocky, and the confidence has never looked so good on someone.
Who is this man, and what has he done with the Mark Lee you knew?
But you weren't going to back down just because your heartbeat picks up, and you know it's not just from the adrenaline.
"How about when I win?" you ask.
He pauses, thinking for a second before saying, "You get my car."
Your eyes light up at the proposition, "Have fun walking home tonight, Markie," you laugh.
"Bitch, if you don't let him win," Summer says, coming up to your window.
"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Do you see that car?" you say.
"Do you see that man? He wants to take me out, who am I to put a question mark where the universe placed a period?" Nyla says, looking at Mark while he talks to Haechan.
"Look, if there are no hard feelings after I give that car a few adjustments, maybe a new paint job, and Mark still wants to take me out, he can," you shrugged.
"Trust me, he'll want to. He's been eyeing you all night." Summer hits your arm.
"Shut up, he has not," you swat her away.
"Excuse me, ladies, but if you don't mind, my man Mark has a date to win," Haechan says, making it clear who he was rooting for.
"Yeah, keep on wishing, Hyuck," Summer yelled back, "You better fucking win now." she tells you.
It was Jeno this time who stood between both cars raising his arms, giving you and Mark the signal to get set. With a nod, Jeno drops his arms, and your car accelerates, taking off, Mark right there beside you. Your entire focus was on the road ahead of you, not even Mark, who would steal glances at you from time to time.
You start getting some distance between your cars, already thinking about the new rims you'd order. But all that flies out the window when you spot a cat in the road ahead of you.
You had two choices; stop or swerve into the muddy ditch to your left, as any third option would leave someone getting hurt, so you didn't even consider it. Slamming on the breaks, you come to a quick stop as the cat stands in front of your car.
"Motherfucker," you muttered under your breath.
As Mark passed you, you swore you could've heard his laugh in the wind.
You swerved around the cat, applying heavy weight to the gas, getting back into your lane, and catching back up with Mark once you approached the turn. By the time you reached the top end, you were only about an inch away from pulling ahead of Mark's car.
You heard the distorted whirls of screams filter in through your windows as you both drove over the line, everyone cheering for the winner.
"Fuck," you whined.
You really wanted that Evo.
"Did you actually let him win?" Summer asks, stunned.
"Fuck no. There was a cat on the runway, I didn't wanna hit it," you say, slamming your door shut.
"Are you serious?" Renjun asks with a laugh.
"How the fuck else would there be a way to explain how I lost?" you say.
"You wanted to let him wi-" Johnny's cut off by Mark's hand over his mouth.
"It's true, I saw it run across," Mark attests, "But still if rules are rules and winning is winning..." he shrugs with a smile.
"You got lucky, Mark. Don't let it go to your head too much," you cross your arms over your chest.
"May be a little too late for that," Mark says, eyeing you up and down.
"Jesus, were they always like this?" Nyla asks, handing Johnny the money she placed on you.
"I have no idea where the fuck any of this came from. What am I even watching right now?" Johnny says, taking the cash.
"Hey! Did you bet against me?" you ask Johnny.
"Sorry, kid. It's just business," Johnny yells back, counting the money.
"Fucking traitor," you grumble.
Then you hear the static coming from the coms (walkie-talkies, but the boys say it's immature and insist on saying coms instead), Jisung relaying something to Chenle.
"Oh shit," Chenle said, "Cops! Cops are coming!" he yelled.
Everything stopped, and everyone scattered like roaches when the lights came on.
People were running in all different directions, jumping into anything on wheels to get away. You got into your car, searching the crowd for Nyla and Summer because you weren't gonna leave without them if they arrived with you. But you caught them getting into Jaehyun's car, so you drove away.
You heard the sirens getting closer, watching the red and blue lights flash in your rearview as you made your getaway from the old army base. Only you and a few others had the same idea of using the same way you came in to get out since the cops were coming from the main entrance, trying to round everyone up. Or at least the ones that weren't fast enough.
You cut off your headlights, driving through the woods to get to the highway, when you heard your phone vibrating in your cup holder before answering it.
"You guys okay?" you ask Nyla.
"Yeah, pretty sure everyone made it out. Where are you?" Nyla asks.
"On my way to the garage to drop the car. Then I'm going over to Johnny's."
"Alright, we'll see you there."
"Alright." you hung up.
[12:26 AM] SATURDAY
As you walked up to Johnny's street, you could already see the partying had continued as if it was never interrupted.
Cars were double parked, taking up the entire street in front of the house. People were scattered all over the lawn, still carrying on as if you all didn't just have to run for your lives to end up here. You could already hear the music from inside Johnny's house as you walked up the front steps.
"You know, the whole point of coming over here is to lay low and not attract the attention of the cops right back to us again." you say to Johnny, finding him first on the front porch.
"It'll be fine, none of the neighbors are gonna complain," Johnny says without an ounce of worry on his face as he rolls a joint.
Before you walk into the house, you stop and ask Johnny again, "You really bet against me?"
"Look, it's not that I think he's the better racer," Johnny pauses to wet the ends of the papers with his tongue, "But you weren't gonna pass up a chance to let him take you out," he teases.
Johnny begins laughing as you hit his arm, "I told you it was the fucking cat."
You leave Johnny, still laughing, on the porch, entering the house. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you reach the kitchen, finding Nyla, Summer, and Jaehyun along with Goeun.
"Finally, what took you so long? Almost hit another cat on your way over?" Summer asks, sipping on her drink.
"Haha, very fucking funny," you spit, flipping her off.
"Here, calm down, and take this," Johnny hands you the lit joint.
"Where do you even think the cat came from? Was it alone? What if it was a mother and she had a litter? Oh my god no, we have to go back and find it," Goeun asks, making it very clear she's already a few shots in.
Now if someone brings that cat up one more time…
"Can we please just stop talking about the cat," you sigh, taking one last drag.
Passing off the joint to Jaehyun, your mind was already growing hazy, your body feeling less weighed down, and you wandered out of the kitchen. You spot Jaemin and Jeno in the backyard smoking with Yuqi, Mingi, and Doyeon. Yuqi lifts the joint toward you, offering before you tell her you're good for now. You were then drawn to the living room when you heard Haechan's voice going back and forth with another's.
"Dude, stop running me over!" Haechan complained.
"Stop getting in my way!" Sunwoo yelled back.
The two boys had planted themselves in front of the TV, quickly moving their fingers over the controls in their hands as they played GTA. Aside from the ones entertained by Hyuck and Sunwoo playing, the living room was packed with others dancing, drinking, and smoking, so you didn't even attempt to make your way through.
You spun on your heels and continued to meander around the house. But you were stopped in your tracks when you were approached by Mark.
"Peace offering?" Mark hands you a drink.
"You know I'm not actually mad about losing, Mark. At least not to you," you take the cup from him, sipping the contents as he leans against the walls next to you.
"Does that mean, if I would've just asked you instead; a date or my car, you would've chosen-"
"Your car, definitely," you say, "Mark, you're cute and all but your car...That's like a wet dream on wheels," you tell him, and he bursts into laughter.
"You think I'm cute?" he asks, raising a brow at you.
It registers that that is what you said to him, even without realizing it. But it's not like it's a lie, so you don't deny it.
"I do." Always have. "And fortunately, you still have your car. So where do you plan on taking me in it?"
"I'm not telling you that."
You scoff, "Why not?"
"It's a surprise."
"I hate surprises." you whine.
"You didn't seem to hate me surprising you tonight."
"That's different."
"You'll like this one," Mark tells you.
"What if you're wrong and I hate it?"
"You won't." Mark wasn't going to crack, depriving you of the information.
"Fine. But when I imagine you've planned out the most extravagant date of the century, and it doesn't meet my expectations and turns out the be the worst date of my life, I will never let you live it down, Mark Lee," you say.
He laughed at your dramatics, "I'll take that chance."
"Can I at least know when to expect this to happen?" you ask.
"Are you free tomorrow?"
"I can be."
"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 6."
"Who gets dinner at 6. We aren't seniors, Mark."
"Who said I was just taking you dinner?" he tilts his head.
"You've only been here about 36 hours and I've only known you're back for three of them, how could you have possibly planned something already?"
"Just gotta trust me," he says, lifting his cup to lips, "And wear something nice. Not too nice. But nice."
"Wow, Mark, that is so helpful."
"I do what I can," he smiles at you rolling your eyes.
Mark only breaks eye contact when he feels the intruding gaze of another.
"Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but why does Leo look like he wants to hit me with his car."
Ignoring any subtleties, you turn to find exactly what Mark was talking about. Across the room, you see Leo leaning against a wall, drinking his beer, and glaring at you and Mark.
You scoff and wave it off, "It's nothing. He's just trying that big bad intimidating ex-boyfriend shit. Thinks it's actually gonna work and bring me right back into his arms," you sip your drink.
"No way you dated him," Mark stares at you, jaw dropped, "Jesus, I leave and you suddenly lose your taste in men."
"Shut up," you shove him with a laugh.
A soft smile comes to your face as you find yourself getting lost in Mark's eyes. That was until you were interrupted by someone calling your name to get your attention.
Mark could feel his posture correcting itself as Yeonjun approached the corner you both occupied, you with open arms.
Yeonjun was another ex of yours. But you only dated for a couple months in high school before ending things on good terms, agreeing to just stay friends.
"Should've known if there was gonna be one person to actually get you out there on the track, it would be Mark," Yeonjun says, "What's up, man," he greets Mark.
"Hey, man," Mark nods.
It's not like Mark had anything against the man. They were pretty well acquainted through you and the other mutual friends he shared with Yeonjun. But it was the little prick of a feeling some may describe as a bit of jealousy Mark gets when he sees Yeonjun with you sometimes. Especially now, considering how close you and Yeonjun were before, Mark can only imagine what it's like now, and he's suddenly regretting all the time he's missed.
"Yeah, since he's not a little bitch and can actually give me a race worth my while," you tease Yeonjun, putting a smile on Mark's face.
"Oh, I know you're not grouping me in with the rest of them," Yeonjun pointed over his shoulder, "fell for the trap last time, and it cost me a Camaro."
"Don't worry. You know she's been in good hands," you say.
"Yeah. And you wasted no time with a new paint job, I see," Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest.
"It was very much needed. I don't know what it is with you guys and that horrendous orange," you scrunch your face.
"So pink was the obvious answer?" Yeonjun asks.
"It's fuchsia, actually. And yes, it was," you nod, making both of them laugh.
Your exchange with Yeonjun is cut short when he hears Wooyoung calling him from the other room.
"I'll catch you guys later. Good seeing you, Mark," Yeonjun nods at Mark as he leaves, Mark doing the same.
"So, let me get this straight; you raced me in a car you already won from Yeonjun, trying to win mine," Mark crosses his arms.
"First, you offered up your car. Second, I've never had a Mitsubishi," You say.
"Good thing I won then," he laughs, and you shoot him a death glare. "Thought there were no hard feelings," he responds to your expression.
"Don't start poking the bear, Lee."
[3:37 AM]
You and Mark barely separated from one another all night, the two of you now sitting in the backyard, still smoking the joint Jaemin left for you two to finish.
"You okay over there?" Mark's voice breaks the peaceful silence and brings you back to reality. You look over at Mark, and your face splits into a smile before you burst into laughter.
"What?" Mark starts laughing along with you.
"Nothing. Sorry I'm just.." you couldn't find the words to even describe what's going on in your head right now, "incredibly high," you sigh.
Mark continues laughing with you, soothing the embarrassment you feel prick up your spine.
"I missed this. And I missed you," Mark says.
"Me too," you smile, "All I could think about the whole night was how much it felt like the first time we met."
"Oh, you mean the same night Johnny almost got bagged?" Mark starts laughing uncontrollably as the memory comes back.
"Yes," you begin laughing as well.
"Do you remember the panic on his face when he was running," he manages to say between gasps for air.
"I've never seen Johnny so scared," you say, your lungs begging for oxygen as you continue to laugh.
"I heard my name, you two talking about me?" Johnny steps out onto the deck.
"Yeah, and that first meet I went to when I saved your ass from the cops," you say.
Johnny scoffed, "What are you talking about?"
"Dude, how could you not remember?" Mark asks, "It was right after you raced Changkyun and you were busy talking to Yves and Jun when the cops showed up." he says.
"But good thing you left the keys in the car and since Mark was too busy freaking out, someone had to do something," you add.
"Alright, I was not freaking out," Mark says.
"It was a mild freak out," you say to him.
"Huh," Johnny nods, looking as if he's going through the archives of his memory, "I very vaguely remember that happening," Johnny says as he lights another joint.
"Maybe if you didn't smoke so much you'd remember," you mutter, sipping your water.
"I know you're not talking," Johnny pointed at you with the spliff between his lips.
"Sungchan's passed out on the front lawn," Haechan comes outside to tell Johnny.
"Okay, find Jeno or Jae and move him upstairs," Johnny says.
"Jeno already left and no one's seen Jaehyun in a while," Haechan says.
"Shit," Johnny sighs, taking a drag, "Mark, come on," he hits Mark's shoulder.
"Now how'd I get dragged into this?" Mark asks.
"Man, just come help us get him upstairs," Johnny tells Mark. With an annoyed grumble, Mark gets up, and you laugh as Mark follows the other two back into the house.
You only went back inside to refill your cup with more water when you bumped into Yeonjun again.
"Hey, you're still here." Yeonjun says.
"Yeah," you answer with a lazy smile.
He laughs at your hazy state, "You good?"
"I'm great," you reply.
Yeonjun smiles, "Well we're about to head out. Do you need a ride home?"
You only had two choices; either walk home or crash here at Johnny's. But now Yeonjun's presenting you with this third choice, and it definitely is tempting.
But Mark.
"I'm good," you nod.
"Okay, I'll see you later."
"I'll see you," you wave as Yeonjun runs off to catch up with the rest of his friends, getting into Hwiyoung's car.
This is when you finally notice how much things have calmed down. The cars lining the streets were no longer taking up the whole block. Now, the house was cleared out of mostly everyone, save for the ones who were crashing there for the night.
"Are you heading out?" Mark asks, coming down the stairs.
"I mean, I probably should. I'm exhausted and I've got to rest up for this big date we have tomorrow," you say.
"You're not driving, right?"
"Of course not. I'm not too far."
"I'll take you."
"Mark, you are not driving either," you say, knowing he's also been drinking and smoking.
"I know. I'm walking you," Mark says, "Let me go grab my phone," he brushes past you and back out to the backyard.
"Hey," you heard from someone else coming down the stairs.
You furrow your brows at your roommate, "You're actually still here? Where have you been all night?" You ask Nyla.
"You know…around," she answered.
It was then you noticed Nyla wearing a shirt she didn't leave the house in, but you don't say anything about it at the moment.
"You ready to go?" Mark asks you.
"Wait, you're leaving?" Nyla asks.
"Yup," you answer.
"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.
"Do you want to go with me?" you ask her.
Before she can answer, Jaehyun comes down the stairs buttoning up a shirt he wasn't wearing before, smirking at your best friend as he walks past to the kitchen.
Nyla looked internally conflicted, so you made the decision for her. "You can stay. Mark's gonna walk me home."
"Mark, you're an angel," Nyla grabs his face. "I love you. Text me when you're home," she says to you, kissing your cheek.
"You better be using protection. I'm too young to be an auntie," you say sternly to her.
"You'd be one hot auntie, though," she winks over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.
"You sure would be," Mark mumbles as he leans against the doorframe.
"Mark, don't start with me," you glare at him as you walk out of the house.
"What do you mean?" he asks, following you.
"The Mark Lee I knew couldn't flirt to save his life. But now, you keep saying things like that and with you looking like this," you sighed, "It makes things confusing."
"How?" he asks.
"Cause you're Mark."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
You don't know how you're supposed to answer him. "I'm not telling you."
"Well, do you want me to stop?"
You took a second to answer, "No."
For a few minutes, you only walked in comfortable silence before you broke it. "So how long are you staying?" you ask.
"Don't know yet. My brother's wedding is next month so I came back to help with preparations and stuff. But I don't know, might stick around for a while after."
You gasp, "Oh my god, your brother's getting married?? No fucking way, congrats to him."
"Thanks, I'll pass it along," he smiled.
"I bet your mom's excited."
"Yeah, and fortunately for me, it's got her too preoccupied to be any way worried about my dating life," he says. "She still asks me about you, you know. Says she misses you."
"Aw, I miss her too," you pout.
Okay, so maybe you downplayed how close you really were.
From the moment you met, it didn't take much for you to become friends. Once you had realized you went to the same school and were even in some of the same classes, you grew close. Mark introduced you to all his friends, who then became your friends and vice versa. Any time he got word of a meet happening, you were always the first person he texted, saying he was already on his way to come get you. Mark would walk with you after school to your father's garage and let you teach him a few things about fixing up and modifying cars. Your families were both fond of the relationship the two of you had; Mark's inviting you to dinner almost every week, and yours never minding having Mark over for breakfast Saturday mornings.
As you turned down your street, you were then reminded of Mark's last night here. After his going away party, he walked you home just like this for the last time before he left.
"I've missed you too, Mark. Really," you tell him once you reach your house.
You hug him, and he wraps his arms around you. Hugging him now is much different than the last time you had. You had cried into his shirt, squeezing him so tight you didn't want to let him go. And a part of you wished you didn't. But at least letting go this time doesn't hurt as much as it did the last.
"Goodnight, Mark."
"Goodnight," he says.
"I'll be seeing you," you say, making your way up to the door.
"You'll be seeing me," he reassures, waiting for you to enter your house before walking back to Johnny's.
[5:43 PM] SATURDAY
"Can I get a time check?" you ask.
"Almost quarter to 6," Summer answers.
You started cursing under your breath, rushing to apply your mascara.
"Wow, I've never seen you like this?" Nyla says.
"Like what?" you ask, never taking your eyes away from the mirror.
"Nervous to go on a date with a boy," she says teasingly.
"First, I'm not nervous," you point the mascara wand at her, "Second, he's not just some boy," you turn back to your reflection.
You heard your phone vibrate with a notification and looked at the text from Mark.
[5:49 PM] mark:
omw to come get you
Fuck. And you weren't even dressed yet.
"Shit—okay, maybe I am a little nervous," you left your vanity and threw off your robe to slip into your dress.
"You really like him, don't you?" Nyla asks.
"You don't know the half of it," Summer interjects.
"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, struggling to zip your dress.
"Bitch, are you for real right now?" Summer deadpans, helping you with the dress, "You were so unbelievably head over heels for him in high school."
"I was not," you defended.
"You and Mark seem to be the only ones who didn't know that," she zips you up.
You couldn't think of anything to say to that, but thankfully you didn't have to anymore once your phone started ringing.
"Hello?"
"I'm outside," Mark's voice filters through the speaker.
"Fuck," you mutter, "Okay, sorry, I'm almost ready," you tell him.
"No worries, I'll still be here."
You hung up and ran around your room, looking through your closet and frantically throwing things out of the way to find your shoes.
"I literally just saw them. Where the fuck are they?" you say to yourself.
"You mean these?" Nyla pulls the heels from under your bed.
"Thank you," you grab the shoes and slip them on.
"Damn, you look real good," Summer compliments as you finish putting on your jewelry.
"Do I really?" you ask, making sure your hair is sitting just how you want it.
"Hell yeah," Nyla agreed.
"Okay," you take a deep breath, smoothing out the silk draped over your body before leaving your room.
"Have fun!" Nyla yelled after you.
You step out of your house to find Mark leaning against a black Porsche you recognize as one of Jaehyun's instead of his signature red Mitsubishi Evolution. You would be disappointed if he didn't look so good standing next to the car.
Mark pushed himself away from the car when he saw you coming down the steps, completely in awe. Meanwhile, you were just focused on not tripping and stumbling down onto your face.
"Hi," you walk up to him.
"Hi," he seemed speechless, "You look…shit. I mean, not like that—You just look beautiful."
"Thank you, Mark," you grin, "You're looking pretty fine yourself."
"You know, I try," he smooths out his jacket, "Shall we?" he opens the passenger door for you.
You smile as you step toward the car, Mark taking your hand, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver's side.
Once you've clicked yourself in with the seatbelt, you look up to see Mark staring at you. "What?"
"Nothing," he clears his throat, pulling off.
You tried not to get too lost in looking at Mark, staring out the window instead, trying to figure out where he was taking you. But then you feel his hand brush against yours when he reaches for the gear lever. You couldn't help it, letting your eyes wander over to him. Curtains of blonde hair hung slightly over his eyes as they were focused on the road. Your eyes drift down to the material perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, taking note of the color he chose to wear, a deep shade of blue, one of your favorite colors.
"We're here," Marks says, and you snap out of it, looking around to see where he's brought you. Mark exits the car first and comes to open your door for you.
"Mark, you didn't."
"I did," Mark smiled, "Put this on," he handed you a lanyard reading VIP.
"Where the fuck did you get these?" you ask.
He ignores your question and holds his hand out for you instead, "Come on."
You slide your hand into his and follow him toward the entrance.
As Mark leads you to your seats, you realize you're not in the packed sections with the rest of the screaming fans. But instead where most executives, family members of racers, and people with enough money to buy their way into this section were. Your eyes were as wide as continental tires as you sat down.
"Mark…" now it was your turn to be speechless.
"Does this meet your expectations?" he asks as you look around in awe.
"No," you say, "Definitely surpassed them."
The crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers walked out to their cars.
"Oh my god," you gasp, "It's him."
Kim Jongin, or as he's famously known, Kai, walks out. He brightly smiles at the fans screaming his name and waves into the audience. You're too starstruck to move. And even think your heart has stopped beating when Kai looks in your direction.
"Mark! You made it," Kai walks over to you and Mark.
"Told you I would, man," Mark greets Kai, "I also said I would introduce you to one of the best street racers I know."
Kai looks at you, his smile never faltering as he extends his hand to shake yours.
"Holy shit," is all you can say as you shake his hand, "I'm like a huge fan," you tell Kai.
"So I've been told. I've also heard you put up some serious game out on the track," Kai says before one of his crew members calls him to his car. "I gotta run, but how about you guys stick around after the race and come down to the pit."
You're certain your jaw's already on the floor, in complete disbelief that this is happening right now.
"Yeah, for sure," Mark says.
Kai waves at you one last time before running off to the track, putting on his helmet, and jumping into his car. Once you were out of your trance, you hit Mark's arm.
"Ow!" Mark rubbed his bicep.
"Since when the fuck do you know Kai?" you ask.
"Since Kevin was just getting into the NIRA circuit. I went to one of the digs with him and that was where I met Kai."
You've been following Kai's career practically since it started back when you were a high school freshman. You probably even watched the exact meet Mark was talking about.
"And you've just been sitting on this piece of information, waiting for what to tell me?"
"For this." Mark answers.
"I can't believe you," you mutter, turning away from him.
[8:32 PM]
As Kai tended to the post-race press, you and Mark waited for the first-place winner in the pit. You were busy drooling over what was under the hood of Kai's car while Mark conversed with Shohei, a pit crew member.
"So what do you think?" Kai reappears, asking you.
"I think if I was out there on the track, I'd have a reason to be scared," you say, "An FR9 engine, a nos wet fogger system, and forged pistons," you only list off the components you can see from just taking one look, impressing the racer.
"You really do know your shit," Kai smiles, "I like her," he says to Mark.
"Yeah, me too," Mark smiled at you.
"Wanna take her for a lap?" Kai asks you.
"Me?" you point to yourself, "In this?" then to the car.
"Why not?" Kai shrugs, handing you a helmet.
"She isn't exactly dressed for-" Shohei started.
But you kick off your heels and grab the helmet, making sure your dress doesn't hike up your legs too high as you slide through the window to get into the race car.
"Man, she's got this," Mark reassures Shohei as Kai gets in the car with you.
"You good in there?" you hear Mark's voice from inside the helmet.
"You know I'm more than good," you reply.
"And don't I know that for damn sure," you hear the smirk in his voice, "But I've talked you up to pretty much everyone here, so don't embarrass me," he says light-heartedly.
Your barefoot steps on the gas and a smile splits your face as you burn out the tires before accelerating. The wind whipped against your skin as you picked up speed. You felt like you were flying as Kai hysterically egged you on from the passenger seat.
Mark could hear your laughter through the com piece in your helmet, telling you're having the time of your life with the way you round the track. The car roared around the corners, and you felt the G-forces pushing you back into the seat. At the end of the lap, you pulled the car back into the pit, taking the helmet off to catch your breath.
"Now that's what I call driving!" Kai exclaimed as he got out of the car from the passenger side window.
You pulled yourself out of the seat and exited through the window. Mark was right there to help you even though he knew you didn't really need his assistance. You feel Mark's arm around your waist, the other the under your thighs, helping you out of the vehicle and letting you hold onto him to put your shoes back on.
"Between that and everything else I've been told, you better hold onto her, Mark."
"I don't think there's any other choice. She's stuck with me," Mark grabs your hand, "We should probably start leaving now before we're late." Mark says to you, looking at his watch.
"It was good seeing you again, and it truly was an honor to meet you," Kai bowed as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.
"The honor was all mine. And you know, if you ever need a tune-up, or tires changed or even a buff, my garage always has its door opened for you," you smile.
"I'll keep that in mind," Kai nods with a smile.
"What are we even getting paid for, then?" Seunghan raised his arms.
Once back in the car, Mark weaved through the traffic of spectators leaving the stadium to get on the highway. You didn't notice Mark still holding your hand, only driving with one hand so his fingers could stay intertwined with yours until you reached the restaurant.
[9:41 PM]
"It was just so crazy. To feel that much power in the grips of my hands." you continued. You couldn't help but talk through the entirety of dinner, recounting the events of the night; Mark not minding one bit.
Mark slides his hand closer to yours across the table, taking your hand in his.
You trail off, suddenly losing focus while looking at Mark. Even in the dim candlelight of the restaurant, you can see how Mark's eyes hold the stars as he looks at you.
"You don't have to stop," Mark says, "I like listening to you," he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.
"And I just like looking at you," you say, "Still think I'm going to wake up from this dream at any moment."
"You dream about me often?" Mark asks teasingly, leaning on the table.
"Oh, Markie," you lean closer too, "You really don't know the half of it, huh?"
"Why don't you tell me then?" Mark says, his eyes falling down to your lips.
"I'd rather show you," you say before kissing him.
You were never one to really be for public displays of affection, but with Mark, here and now, it just felt right.
"I've wanted to do that ever since sophomore year," you tell him once you pull away.
"Deadass?" Mark asks, raising his brows.
You laugh at his stunned expression, "Deadass, Mark."
"So Renjun was right," he mumbles to himself.
"About what?"
"You having a crush on me in high school."
"Seems like you were the only one who didn't know," you shrug.
"Well, don't act like you didn't know I had one on you too," Mark says, and your brows raise, "Wait, really? You didn't know?" he asks.
"Of course, I didn't Mark. How was I supposed to?"
"I don't know. But I mean, it was pretty obvious," Mark says, and you scoff.
You could pretty much say the same to him.
"God, I'm such an idiot," Mark shakes his head, and you laugh, squeezing his hand.
"My idiot," you kiss him again.
[11:56 PM]
With the night coming to an end, you feel a slight pang of sorrow as Mark nears your house.
Mark's hand holding yours, squeezes lightly, bringing you out of your thoughts once he's parked on your street. He kissed the back of your hand before exiting the car, opening your door, and helping you out.
You slide his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to Mark for him to toss into the backseat.
"So," Mark starts.
"So," you take a step closer to him.
"You can truthfully tell me if it really was the worst date of your life," he said with a smile.
You roll your eyes, "Maybe it wasn't."
"Damn, it does feel good being right."
"The night isn't over. There's still time for my answer to change."
"How much time?"
You look at your phone, "Two minutes and 30 seconds."
Mark was the one to initiate the kiss this time. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body. You allow Mark's tongue to slip into your mouth, and he hums at the taste of your lipgloss mixed with the wine you drank. Mark pulls away so you can both catch your breath, and you rest your forehead against his.
"Well?"
"Well, this has officially been the best date I've been on," you smile.
He lifts your chin, getting you to look at him, and kisses you one last time.
"Goodnight," he says.
"Goodnight, Mark," you begin to walk up your front steps.
"Wait," Mark stops you, "This isn't gonna be a one time thing is it?"
"Do you want it to be?" you ask.
"No."
"Okay. You'll be seeing me, Mark."
"I'm counting on it."
Walking up to your door, you see the movement of the curtains in the window and shake your head as you put in your key. As expected, the moment you enter your house, you're met with Nyla and Summer waiting for you.
"Date must've gone well," Summer says.
"What makes you say so?" you ask.
"That was pretty intense between you two out on the steps, and you're still grinning like an idiot," Nyla tells you.
"I am not," you deny with said grin still plastered on your face.
[1:34 PM] MONDAY
Mark steps onto the front porch, joining the rest who were outside. He finds you among them in Johnny's driveway, working on Jungwoo's car.
"Whatcha doing?" Mark asks, approaching you.
"Jungwoo says it doesn't sound right so I'm trying to adjust the cylinders and change the air pressure intake," you say.
You might as well have been wearing an expensive white dress and standing at an altar with the way Mark's looking at you. Mark watches as you carefully maneuver your way around the engine, sure not to interfere with anything valuable.
"Try that," you tell Jungwoo, who was sitting behind the wheel.
Jungwoo started his car and revved up the engine a few times, the loud roar sounding like music to your ears. You smile, satisfied, and close the hood of the car.
"You are an angel, you know that," Jungwoo says, appreciatively kissing your cheek before wandering off.
"Yeah, I know," you smile, turning to Mark, "Hi."
"Hi." you notice Mark lick his lips as he eyes you.
"What?"
"Nothing. That was just kinda hot," Mark tells you.
"Yeah? All this sweat and grease really doing it for you?" you joke, wiping your hands with a rag.
"You're definitely doing it for me," Mark says, pulling you toward him by your waist.
Mark kisses you, and you practically melt against his lips. You have to fight the urge to run your fingers through his hair, waiting until you properly wash your hands. You circle your arms around his neck instead, but things don't get too heated as your phone starts ringing.
"You mind?" you ask Mark. He hands you your phone, and you step away to take the call.
"Everything okay?" Mark asks as you return to him.
"Yeah," you tell him before turning to everyone in the front yard, "So, how many of you love me enough to come swing by the garage with me?" you sweetly smile at your friends.
You aren't given a direct answer, but they all move from their spots and start getting into their cars, Mark following you to yours and riding with you.
. . .
You knew signing for the delivery wouldn't have taken long, but no one seemed to be in a rush to leave as they all busied themselves around the autobody shop.
"Damn I really have missed this place," Mark says, looking around with a soft smile.
"You know you've been equally missed," you tell him.
"Say it ain't so. Mark Lee, is that you?" you hear your dad's voice behind you.
"Yes, sir," Mark extends his arm to shake your dad's hand.
You try to continue focusing on the paperwork in front of you as the two exchange small talk before your dad mentions having Mark over for dinner.
"Oh, I couldn't impose-" Mark started.
"It wasn't imposing before, and it still isn't now," your dad says, "Your mom would love to have him over for dinner," he says to you.
"She would," you agree.
"Great, come over next Wednesday," he tells Mark before Soojin pulls your dad away to deal with a customer.
"Come with me," you round the desk and take Mark's hand.
Mark follows your lead through the shop as you take him to where some of your friends congregated around Shotaro's station.
"Hey, Taro. You busy?" you ask, getting his attention.
"Not really," Shotaro says.
"Mark, this is Shotaro. Shotaro, this is Mark." you introduce them.
The Sagittarius' eyes widen as he extends his hand to Mark, "Holy shit, I've seen you race. You're like a god."
"Wow, thank-" Mark begins.
"Alright, I wouldn't say all that," you say.
"Have you seen him drive?" Shotaro asks.
"Of course, he's the only person that can keep up with me. But he usually never beats me over that line," you say with half a smirk.
Shotaro's brows furrow, "Wait, you race?"
Having only been working here a few months, you don't blame Shotaro for not knowing.
"I don't as much as I used to," you say.
"This isn't the first time I've heard this. Why is that?" Mark asks.
You shrug. "I don't know. I guess between school and helping manage this place I kinda lost my enthusiasm about it," you look down at the spare tire on the ground, softly kicking it, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you, "And it kinda just wasn't the same without you."
Mark looks as if he's endeared by what you've said. But you clear your throat and quickly change the subject.
"But anyway, how did the dry system hold up?" You ask Shotaro.
"Pretty good. Better than my last one," Shotaro tells you, lifting the hood of his car.
"Holy shit, where did you find these parts?" Mark asks as a few of you gather around the automobile.
"Only knew one place to find them. So I had them imported from Yokohama," Shotaro says.
"Shotaro, you're definitely riding with us to race wars," Hendery says.
"You guys are going too?" Shotaro asks.
"Yeah. Actually, speaking of, how many of us are going to race wars?" Jaehyun asks.
You and Mark used to talk about going to race wars all the time but never got the chance to when you were in high school because your parents would never let you. And by the time you were able to go, Mark wasn't there to be with you, so it just didn't have the same feeling without him.
"Pretty sure all of us here. Probably the rest of the others, too," Jeno says.
"Mark, you're coming?" Jisung asks.
"When is it?" Mark asks.
"It's supposed to be the beginning of next month, but the exact date and location haven't been posted yet. I'll let you know once I find out," Jaemin says.
"Okay," Mark nods, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my brother's wedding, I'll go."
"You could always not go?" Chenle jokes.
"Dude, he's my brother, and I'm the best man."
Everyone now turns their attention to Mark.
"What the fuck? Since when?" Ten asks.
"Since I found out my brother was engaged," Mark answers.
"So you just don't tell anyone shit around here anymore?" you joke.
Mark playfully rolls his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue.
God, why is he so hot.
You curl your arms around his, "Mark, you have to come. We've always wanted to go together," you pout.
"I know, I know," Mark holds your hand, "If I can, I will. I promise."
That was good enough for you for now.
"Okay."
[6:50 PM] THURSDAY
"Hello?" you answer the phone.
"You still at the garage?" Mark asks.
"Yeah, but I'm about to leave in a few minutes."
"Wanna come over to my place? Watch a movie and maybe drink this bottle of wine I have sitting in front of me."
"I'll need to go home and shower first. I'm all sweaty and greasy," you say.
"I don't really mind. Sweat, grease, and all."
"Well, I do. So I'll be over in an hour."
Mark kisses his teeth, "Fine."
[8:02 PM]
Pulling up to Mark's house, you don't know why you expected it to be any different than how you remember it. But it was the same color and layout and even still had the dent in the garage door from when Yuta accidentally backed into it.
Mark answers the door wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and glasses. Those goddamn glasses.
"Hi," Mark smiles at you.
"Hi," you step into the house, allowing Mark to pull you in for a kiss. "You miss me or something?" you ask.
"Guess you can say that."
Slipping off your shoes and jacket, you follow Mark into the living room.
"Your parents here?" you ask.
"Nah, they went with my brother to meet the future in-laws," Mark answers. "You want a glass?" he points to the wine bottle sitting on the table.
"Yes, please," you sigh, collapsing onto the couch.
"Long day?"
"Yeah, but it's nothing I'm not used to." you take the wineglass he hands you.
Mark listens to you go on about your day after he asks, only briefly interrupted when he goes to answer the door for the delivery of the food you didn't even know he ordered. After eating your fill of pizza, you continue to watch the movie. You notice how much closer you are now than when you first arrived. You went from sitting right next to Mark to being seated between his legs, your back against his chest.
"Now, I gotta ask, who's your favorite?"
"Spider-man? Garfield for sure. I love the other two but The Amazing Spider-Man has a special place in my heart," you hold your hand over your chest.
"You were supposed to say me," Mark grumbles, rolling his eyes.
You laugh, turning to him, "Mark, you only dressed up once senior year, and that's cause you lost a bet."
"But you can't say I don't make a good Peter Parker," he says.
"Only if I can be your MJ," you joke.
Mark closes the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours. Having seen No Way Home enough times opening weekend, you didn't mind Mark distracting you from the rest of the movie. You reposition yourself to straddle him and bring your lips back to his. The hands Mark has on your hips move down to cup your ass. Then you start laughing.
"Sorry, did I overstep?" Mark asks, moving his hands away.
"No, you didn't. It's just..nothing, sorry," you apologize.
You start kissing him, cupping his face before you feel his two hands on your ass again, unable to stop the giggles bubbling in your throat.
"What?" Mark can't help but laugh now.
"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about your hands on my ass."
"What's so funny about that?" he asks.
"Nothing. It's just, I can't believe my best friend, Mark Lee, is kissing me with his hands on my ass," you cover your eyes, trying to explain. You shake your head, trying not to overthink this too much. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just nervous, I guess."
"What for?"
"Because it's you," you say, peaking at him through your fingers.
"I make you that nervous, baby?" Mark pulls your hands away from your face with a crooked smile.
Is he trying to make you spontaneously combust??
"Maybe," you answer.
"Think I can do something to change that," he says, "Come here," he juts his chin toward you, signaling you to kiss him.
You let all thoughts fade away as you leaned into Mark. You grab the sides of his face, pressing your lips to him.
Mark keeps his hands off you until he can practically feel the desperation in your body, letting your hands roam all over him.
Feeling Mark's hands slide up your thighs to your ass made you softly moan into his mouth as he pressed you into his groin.
"Mark…" you breathe shakily.
"You need something?"
"Yeah, you."
You could hear your heart banging against your chest like a drum as you followed Mark up the stairs to his room, your hand in his.
Entering his room, you can see it hasn't changed much either. The same posters are still on the walls, his guitar sitting in its designated corner by his bed, and the small piles of clothes scattered over the floor. You didn't have the chance to get a good look at much else as Mark's lips were back on yours once he closed the door.
The backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed before you fall down onto it. Mark looks down at you lying on his bed, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, taking his glasses off, and tossing them onto the bed. Mark grabs one of your legs, making space between them for himself, bringing his lips back to yours. Once he starts kissing your neck, you know you're already done for.
"Mark, please," you arch into his touch.
"What, baby?"
"Touch me."
"I am touching you," he smirks, nipping at your jaw.
"God, since when were you such a fucking tease," you say, making him laugh.
"You mean here?" he asks, cupping your sex.
"Mhm," you tug your teeth between your teeth, nodding.
Mark looks into your eyes as he undoes the string of your sweatpants, making sure this is okay. When you don't tell him to stop, Mark slips his hand into your pants, pressing his fingers to the damp cotton, still acting as a barrier, keeping you from what you want.
"You this wet for me, princess?"
You shutter at his use of the pet name, "Yes."
"Mmm," he hums, watching your body react to the smallest of his touches. Mark then pulls your underwear to the side and teases your silt with his middle finger. Your jaw drops, silently moaning when you feel one of his fingers breach your walls.
"Damn, baby, you're soaking for me," Mark smirks against your navel, moving your shirt out of his way as he kisses his way up your stomach.
"Mark, don't say things like that," you whine.
"Why?"
"Cause it's turning me on even more," you roll your hips into his hand.
"That doesn't sound like a reason to stop to me," he stopped kissing your skin once he reached your sternum, "Do you want me to stop?"
"No."
"Good. I'm only getting started," Mark pulls his hand away.
Before you could even protest, Mark's tugging your sweats down your legs, your panties along with them, getting you to lift your hips so he could throw them to the floor. You watch Mark lower himself to his knees on the floor before the bed, directing each of your legs over his shoulders. He softly kisses your inner thighs, nipping your sensitive skin between his teeth.
Mark pulls you closer to his face, looking up at you with eyes blown wide with lust. You try to keep your composure when Mark's tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit. Mark moans at the taste of you, and holds your legs apart as he buries his head between your thighs. Your small whimpers gradually grow into cries of Mark's name as he brings his fingers back to your core, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.
"Fuck, that feels so good," you comb your fingers through his hair as he catches your clit between his lips.
Your back arches into the air, and you tug harshly on his roots, making him groan into your pussy. Mark's middle and ring finger curl against your velvety walls, moving in a come hither motion once he finds your sweet spot. Between the movements of his head and his fingers pumping in and out of you, you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten.
"Mark.." you sharply moan, "P-Please, don't stop," you beg.
Mark could feel his shorts growing uncomfortably tight the more he heard you moan and felt your pussy flutter around his fingers.
"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"
"Yes, Mark, please."
If your eyes didn't flutter shut, you would've caught the smirk on his face before he attacked your clit with his tongue.
At this point, you're no longer able to form full sentences. Mark's mouth makes you lose your senses and every coherent thought you have.
Mark's fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much as he eats you out like a man feasting after days of starving.
"Oh my god!" your eyes roll back, "M'gonna cum," you warn through a whimper.
Mark never let up. The pace of his fingers picking up and his tongue flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves had your toes curling. Your legs closed around his head once your orgasm hit you. Your cries and trembling legs went unnoticed by Mark as he was too enamored with the feeling and taste of you in his mouth.
"Mark, Mark, Mark," you whine, softly pushing his head away.
You open your eyes to find Mark with his fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off them. Even through your fatigue, seeing him with messy hair from you pulling on it and his face glistening with your juices reignited your insatiable desire for him.
"You okay?"
"Okay? Am I okay?" you raise a brow, "Mark, I can't remember the last time someone made me cum like that from just going down on me," you throw your arm over your eyes, still coming down from your high.
"I'm glad to be of service, then," he moves your arm away, kissing you.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning around his tongue when it clashes with your own, tasting yourself on his lips.
You flip Mark onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and he rests his hands on your thighs, roughly kneading your flesh. You hum, feeling his hard clothed cock resting between your folds, Mark grabbing your ass to get you to roll your hips into his, letting a sound that closely resembles a whine climb up his throat.
Mark chases after your lips when you pull away, opening his eyes to see you admiring him.
"You're so pretty, Mark," you say, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes, and you swear you heard a whimper slip from his swollen lips.
Mark blushes, turning away from you so you don't notice. But you do. You grab his jaw, making him look at you, and pull him close enough, your lips to ghost over his.
"My pretty boy," you kiss his lips.
His cock stirs beneath you as you kiss your way down his neck. You tug on the collar of his shirt, getting Mark to pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor next to your clothes. You run your hand down his toned chest, a light trail of hair on his lower stomach disappearing into his shorts.
"Can I?" you ask, hooking your finger in the waistband of his shorts.
"Yeah," Mark nods.
Once his pants are off, you're both left in only one piece of clothing; his boxers and your shirt.
You kneel between his legs while Mark sits back on his hands, just watching you. Resting your hand on his leg, you softly squeeze his thigh before slowly sliding over to the bulge in his underwear. Palming the outline of his heavy cock has Mark tilting his head back, but not too much so he can still watch you as you waste no more time and release his dick from its confinements.
Your eyes widen, and the corners of your lips twitch, seeing his cock spring free, lightly slapping against his lower stomach. Precum dribbles from his slit and your mouth practically waters. You wrap your fingers around his length, smearing the beads of precum with your thumb. His cock twitches in your grasp, a raspy groan falling from his lips and shooting straight to your core.
"Mark, please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this house," you look at him through your lashes.
"Second drawer," he nods to his nightstand.
"Were you stocking up for this?" you ask, finding the industrial-sized box.
"No," Mark laughs, "Donghyuck 'gifted' that to me after our first date."
"Now, why would he do that?" you ask, straddling his thigh.
You already know your friend can have a perverted way of thinking, but you wanted to hear Mark's reasoning.
"Cause I couldn't stop talking about you in that fucking dress," he grips your waist, "Let's just say it was a lot harder to keep my gentlemanly manners than I thought it would be that night."
"As much as I appreciated the consideration," you say, "I wore that dress hoping you would've taken it off me," you lean into his ear.
"Fuck me," Mark groans under his breath and digs his fingers into your hips.
You grin, kissing him. Since you're distracted, Mark snatches the condom from your hand and pushes you onto your back. He sits back on his haunches, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and tears the package with his teeth before rolling the latex on and pumping his cock in his hands a few times.
Laying there with your hair splayed out on the pillows, your bottom lip between your teeth, and your thighs desperately itching to rub together at the sight of the man before you, Mark slowly begins losing his grip on any sort of restraint he has left. Mark wraps his arms under your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as Mark keeps his eyes locked with yours, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds.
"Mark, please," your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Mark still heard the traces of desperation.
The blunt head of his cock presses against your slit before being enveloped by your slick pussy. He takes his time easing into you as your walls open up for him.
"Oh, god—Mark," you choke out, feeling the way you have to adjust to his size.
"I know, I know, baby," Mark coos, "It's okay. Just relax for me," he soothed his hand up and down your leg.
You nod, and Mark starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back to give him more access to mark up the side of your throat. As Mark sinks his teeth into your skin and can feel how incredibly wet you become, your pussy practically sucking him the rest of the way in.
"How're you doing, princess?" Mark kisses his way back up your neck.
"Fuck, Mark, you feel so big," you roll your head back onto his pillow. Mark smiles, peppering your face with kisses while whispering sweet praises.
"Let's just take it slow then, okay," he says, slowly drawing his hips back.
The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls as he slowly left your heat, only to fill you up again, had your eyes rolling back.
"I feel so…you make me feel so—Full," you stumble over your words, moaning.
The chuckle that leaves his lips leads a new wave of arousal to flood through your body and clench around him.
"And you're doing so good for me," he kisses your jaw. Mark continues slowly moving his hips, using deep sensual strokes to fuck you. Now fully submerged in pleasure, you beg Mark for more.
Mark grabs your leg hooked around his hip and begins picking up his rhythm. Bringing his eyes down to where your bodies were connected, he watches his dick disappear between your folds. Mark's shallow pants slowly transition into broken whimpers. You're just barely holding on, and Mark continues coaxing you closer to the edge.
"You're making me feel so good, Mark," you tell him.
Mark tries to conceal his noises, burying his head in your neck, but you disapprove.
"Come on, Markie," you direct his face to look at you, "I wanna hear you, pretty boy," you grin, running your thumb along his bottom lip.
"Fuck~" he whines.
"Don't stop, baby, m'so close," you say.
"M-Me too—fuck, you feel so good," his voice fluctuates.
"S'all for you, pretty boy," you tell him, and you almost cum from his whimpers alone.
"God, stop calling me that," Mark pants, screwing his eyes shut.
"Why?" you smirk, bringing your fingers beneath his chin to make him look at you.
Damp strands of blonde hair hung in his face as he opened his lust-filled eyes, "I won't be able to last any longer," he answers.
"You gonna cum for me, Mark?" you roll your hips into his, making him deeply groan.
Mark holds your jaw with one hand, keeping intimate eye contact as he repeatedly thrusts into you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his finger into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.
"Not until you cum for me first," he says, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and bringing it to your clit.
"Oh—fuck, Mark, please," you cry.
Mark lowers himself to kiss you, muffling both of your sweet noises.
You frantically search for something to grab onto, finding Mark's shoulders first as you cum. Your pussy clamps around his cock, sending Mark into his own orgasm. Soft, breathy moans fill your ears as Mark's hips stutter, and he fills the condom with his cum.
"Holy shit," he drops his head to your shoulder.
You softly run your fingers through the strands of his sweaty hair as he kisses your damp skin. Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, Mark finds your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.
"Wait here," he tells you, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
You whimper as he slips his cock out of the pulsating warmth of your pussy, leaving you clenching around nothing.
After tossing the condom into the trash and slipping his boxers back on, you watch Mark shuffle out of the room. He returns with a wet cloth, pulling your legs apart and wiping away the stickiness clinging to your folds.
"Are you okay?" Mark asks.
"Yeah."
"You're very quiet," he lays down next to you.
"I'm thinking," you say, turning in his direction.
"About?"
"You," you answer, "There's no going back after this, Mark."
"Are you okay with that?"
"Am I?" you smile, "I'm not saying that cause I regret this, Mark. I'm saying this as a warning cause it'll be harder for you to get rid of me now," you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek.
Mark laughs, resting his hands on your lower back. "I can't image I would ever want to anyway," he kisses you.
[9:43 PM] SATURDAY
"No one even knew Yuta was back in town until today, how did so many people find out?" Summer says as your car nears the entrance to the parking garage.
It had taken you nearly ten minutes to move up in the line of cars that had formed. You're just glad you got here when you did, considering that the line was now streaming down the street.
Since Yuta had sent out the location at practically the last minute, you weren't expecting the dig to have this big of a turnout. You don't even know how Yuta set it up, but since the renovations to the parking garage weren't nearly finished yet, it was closed off from the rest of the public. Which meant for you, it was the perfect place for races to be conducted without having to worry about any civilians.
You finally reach the barrier gate where Yunho and Changbin are standing post.
"Hey, Sunny," Changbin says to Summer.
"Hi, Binnie," she sweetly smiles as she hands him the money for the entry fee, "I'll see you in there?" she asks.
"Yeah," Changbin smiles, "You guys are good to go," he nods to you.
"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Nyla asks Summer as you start following the cars down to the underground level.
"What?" Summer asks.
"You and Binnie?" You raise your brows, "When did that start?"
"It's nothing. We're just friends."
You and Nyla share a glance in your rearview mirror. "Sure, whatever you say," Nyla drops it.
Just as you reach the bottom level, you see Haechan driving in the opposite direction, and you roll down your window to talk to him.
"Where are you guys going, we just got here?" you ask Haechan.
"Damien called Jaemin out," Hyuck tells you, "Come on," he waves at you to follow him.
You tail Haechan's car up to the third level and easily find a few more of your friends, or rather their cars, knowing they're somewhere close by. Parking between Jungwoo and Xiaojun's cars, you gravitate toward the cluster of your friends, spotting a mop of silky jet-black hair among them.
"Yuta!" you walk up with open arms to be embraced in a hug.
"I know I was only gone for two weeks but seems like I've missed a lot anyway," Yuta says, "So, where is lover boy Mark?"
"He's on his way," you say.
"I can't believe it took all these years for you two to finally get together," he teased.
"I'm starting to get tired of hearing this," you roll your eyes playfully.
"Well, it's true. You two were so ridiculously down bad for one another," Yuta teases, and you lightly hit his arm.
More people begin filling in as they anticipate the race about to go down. Jaemin's car sits at the starting point, along with Damien's. Now the only thing you're left waiting for is Johnny, Yangyang, Hendery, and Jaehyun to set up their positions around the so-called track.
"Fuck this," your impatience gets the best of you, and you snatch the walkie-talkie from Chenle's back pocket, "Are we ready?" you ask.
"Track's all clear, we're good to go," Johnny responds to you.
Once you have confirmation from all five groups, you take the lead and stand in front of the cars.
"You guys already know the rules. It's five levels from here to the top. Whoever makes it there first, wins," you clarify, "Ready?" you ask Jaemin and Damien.
They both nod and you motion for them to inch their cars up just a bit so their bumpers line up exactly. You raise your hands, and the crowd begins cheering as both cars rev up. You drop your arms, and you're engulfed in the smoke their burnouts left behind as the cars whipped past you. As everyone else runs for the elevator and stairs to get to the rooftop before Jaemin and Damien do, there's only one person not moving along with the herds of people, walking toward you instead.
"You're probably the hottest race marshal I've ever seen," Mark says as you turn on your heels, almost crashing right into him.
"Mark," your face splits into a smile, cupping his face and kissing his lips.
"Miss me, baby?" he asks with a chuckle.
"Yeah, pretty boy," you tease.
Mark kisses you again, firmly keeping one hand on your lower back.
"Hey! Y'all can suck faces later, but get your asses in here now!" Summer yells from the elevator.
Remembering the race, you grab Mark's hand, run into the elevator, and head for the top floor.
Since Yangyang and Jaehyun were exclusively live-streaming the entire race for people to watch from the different levels they were on, everyone's eyes were glued to their phones, waiting for Jaemin and Damien to reach the top. You all watch from Jisung's phone as Jaemin takes the lead once he passes Ten on the sixth floor, drifting the turn up to the seventh, and you smile proudly since you had been the one who taught him how to in the first place.
You can hear the tires screeching and the deep resonance of the engines making their way up each floor. Hitting one last turn and perfectly timing his gear shift, Jaemin drifts his car up the ramp. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as everyone celebrated Jaemin's win, even himself, with a few victory donuts.
You would've been right there alongside everyone else, congratulating Jaemin on his win if Mark hadn't used this chance while everyone was distracted and not paying attention to either of you.
Your back meets a concrete wall with a soft thud while Mark's lips attack yours.
"What's with you, Markie?" You ask.
A low groan rumbles in his chest, "You're just so…fucking beautiful."
"Thank you, baby," you kiss his nose.
"Hey, Mark!" someone calls him, "How about you lay off your girl for a bit and let us see if you're still the big shot you thought you were in high school," Sean says.
You turn to Sean with your brows raised. The only thing holding you back from wiping that snarky grin off his face is Mark's arm still wrapped around you.
Mark's entire demeanor was calm as he nodded at Sean, "Alright. Me and you, right now," Mark says.
You follow Mark back down to the ground floor to get his car, riding with him. He holds your hand the entire drive back up to the third level, where spectators had already lined the pathway, expecting the next race.
"Do I really need to wish you luck?" you ask Mark as you look over at Sean overconfidently revving up his engine.
"I know I can take him. But I'd still appreciate it from you."
"Baby, you got this," you kiss his lips.
Mark watches as you sit back and lift your hips, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs. You hand the bunched-up lace to Mark, leaning over to his ear. "But just hold onto these just in case. Your good luck charm," you smirk.
Mark chuckles as he shoves your underwear into his pocket, looking over at you with a smile playing on his lips. "You just wait until I can get you alone," Mark pulls you in for one last kiss before you get out of his car.
You join everyone else on the sidelines as Yuta riles the crowd up. Mark looks over at you and winks. Yuta raises his arms, and Sean dramatically burns out his tires while Mark comfortably sits back in his seat. With him looking so relaxed, settling into his element behind the wheel makes heat pool in your lower stomach. Subtly pressing your thighs together, you begin to regret handing over your underwear, feeling the warmth between your legs.
"Go!" Yuta yells, and both cars take off. Summer grabs your hand, leading you to the elevator to head back up to the top floor.
As you all wait for Mark and Sean's cars to near the final level, the door to the stairwell swings open, and Nyla trudges through, making her way over to you all.
"Why're you out of breath?" Jeno asks, receiving a glare from Nyla.
"Jae and I were on the fourth floor, and those steps.." she gasps, "are no joke." Once she finally catches her breath, Nyla tells you, "I left my bag in your car, I need your keys."
You reach into your skirt pocket and pluck out your keys, handing them to Nyla before she heads for the elevator. Turning your attention back to the race, you recognize the sound of Mark's engine, and you smile as his car drifts up the ramp, beating Sean. Mark's tires screech against the pavement before he takes his foot off the gas and gets out of his car. The crowd rushes Mark, celebrating his win, you along with them.
"I told you you had him," you say to Mark.
"I'll say it was your good luck charm that secured it," he smirked.
But all the celebrating is cut short when you see people running before you hear the sirens making their way up the levels of the garage, and Mark instinctively grabs your hand.
"And I think that's our cue," Renjun grabs his drink and gets into Jeno's car.
It's hard to tell which direction the sirens are coming from as the sound bounces off every surface in the open space.
"Get in," Mark says to you, Summer, and Jisung.
You trust Nyla enough with your car to not even be concerned about it and jump into the passenger seat. Mark wastes no time shifting into drive once you're all inside and starts looking for an escape route. He avoids the exit everyone else was trying to leave from as a traffic jam starts building up, and people honking their horns isn't helping to get things moving.
"Is that Chenle?" you hear Summer ask from the backseat. You then turn your head to see the blue and red lights shadowing Chenle's silhouette as he runs toward Mark's car.
"Dude, come on!" Jisung yells to Chenle, opening the door.
Chenle dives head-first into the back seat, throwing himself across Summer and Jisung's laps.
"Go, go, go!" Chenle exclaims. Mark presses his foot on the gas and begins speeding away.
Finally finding a clear exit, Mark floors it before yanking his e-break as a police car turns the corner. You hear the cops' megaphone telling Mark to stop driving and for all of you to get out of the vehicle.
"Mark," you call him warily.
"I know," he shifts gears, "Hold on," he says, reversing the car, looking through the rear windshield over his shoulder, and putting his hand behind the headrest of your seat.
Mark expertly drives his car backward, turning the wheel with one hand, and the police continue to chase after you before Mark reaches another exit. Ending up back on the city streets, you lose the police tail, and you feel a sigh of relief throughout the entire car.
"Yeah I'm with her, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung," you hear Summer say. "Ningning's with Nyla and they have your car," she tells you as she's on the phone.
"Thank god. Tell them to bring it to Johnny's."
"They're already on their way."
Mark's car drives up to Johnny's house around the same time everyone else arrives. Just like always, the party goes on as if nothing had happened. Summer, Jisung, and Chenle get out of the car, Chenle already retelling the events of what just happened to Yangyang and Haechan when they meet in the front yard.
You and Mark don't get out yet, the two of you just silently holding each other's gaze. Mark had one hand lazily thrown over the wheel, sitting back in his seat as he eyed you.
"Mark, get out of the car," you tell him.
"Why?" Mark asks.
"Between the way you just handled that and the way you're looking at me right now, I can't promise I can hold myself back any longer."
Mark's eyes drift down from your face, tugging his lip between his teeth. The corners of his lips curl up as he takes his car out of park. Mark pulls his car into Johnny's garage, and the party fades into a dull hum once the door shuts. You and Mark are now alone, only in the presence of the other dormant vehicles in the garage.
Mark turns his car off, and you push yourself out of your seat, leaning over the console to kiss him. Mark's hand blindly fumbles with the seat adjuster to move his seat back and allow you to climb into his lap.
"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks, smiling against your lips.
"You," you card your fingers through the soft blonde curls, "Mark, you're just so..hot," you roll your hips into his. Mark's hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You can already feel the wetness dripping onto Mark's jeans, the rough material deliciously dragging against your clit. You moan around Mark's tongue, and he grips your body tighter. You accidentally lean against the wheel, hitting the horn, startling yourself and Mark.
Mark laughs along with you, "Backseat?"
"Backseat," you nod before climbing into the back of his car.
Now with more room, you grab Mark and comfortably settle in his lap. You feel the bulge in his jeans against your inner thigh and roll your hips into his. Mark's head falls back against the window, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. Mark's eyes flutter shut as you cradle the back of his head and sink your teeth into his skin. The moan that falls from his lips causes you to get wetter.
"Mark?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Can I?" you ask, slipping your hand between your bodies and palming him through his pants.
"Yeah."
You slide out of his lap and quickly undo the button of his jeans. You waste no time trying to get his clothes off and just pull his cock out of his underwear, your mouth already salivating.
"Oh, Mark," you clench your thighs together, "You're so pretty."
His breathing becomes shallow as he says, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, baby," you kiss the tip of his cock before kitten-licking the drips of precum leaking down his shaft.
Mark sharply gasps, and the grin on your face grows bigger. You let spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his dick to assist your hand, jerking him. You wrap your lips around the sensitive tip, slowly sucking him into your mouth. Mark softly groans, placing his hand on your head. He brushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face.
"My god, look at you," he swipes a string of spit hanging from your lips when you come up for air. You playfully bite his thumb before taking his cock back into your mouth.
Hearing Mark's heavy breathing slowly turn into breathy whimpers encourages you to take more of him down your throat. You feel one of Mark's hands sliding down your back, flipping your skirt over your ass. He dips a finger into your pussy, humming approvingly when he feels how wet you are.
You are grateful his windows were tinted well past the legal limit just in case someone drunkenly stumbled into the garage.
"You get this wet from just sucking my dick, princess?" Mark smirks as he plays with your folds. "Such a dirty dirty girl," he calls you, making you moan around his cock and clench around his fingers. You lose focus and drop your head to his thigh.
"Mark," you whine as he curls his two fingers against your soft walls.
"Come on, baby," he strokes your head, "You're doing so good for me."
You slide his cock back into your mouth upon his words, swirling your tongue around the tip. Mark rests his head against the foggy window and utters soft praises between moans.
You smile, "You sound so pretty for me, Mark,"
"Feels so good," he tells you.
"Gonna cum for me, pretty boy?"
"Yes."
You ignore the burn in your arm and pump his cock faster in your hand. "Cum for me, Mark. I know you want to."
"I do, I do—fuck—I do," his voice cracks.
Your name mixed with his moans, had you dripping down your thighs. You bob your head to the same rhythm as your hand. Mark's thighs twitch, and he bucks his hips against your face. You feel the warmth filling your mouth as Mark cums. Waiting until you feel his cock soften against your tongue, you pull yourself off him and swallow his cum.
"Fuck," he sighs, "You're so good to me."
"Anything for my pretty boy," you kiss him.
Mark grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pushes his tongue past your lips, tasting the lingering saltiness in your mouth. Mark pulls you back on top of him to straddle his thigh. You start grinding your hips against his denim-clad leg.
"As much as I like having you beneath me I think I like seeing you on top of me more," Mark says, looking up at you. "That feel good, princess?" he asks, purposely flexing his thigh.
"Yes," you whimper.
"You that desperate, you gotta fuck yourself on my thigh like this?"
"For you, yes," you tell him.
Mark cups your ass beginning to direct your movements as he holds eye contact with you. You can't take it anymore and bury your head in his neck. "What's wrong, baby?"
"I'm gonna cum," you mumble against his throat.
"Already?" he teases. Mark pulls your face out of the crook of his neck. "Let me see your pretty face when you cum for me."
"Mark," you grab onto his shoulders.
"Yeah, sweetheart? Say my name."
"Mark, please."
You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your manicured nails into Mark's skin.
"That's it, baby. That's my good girl," he rubs his hands up your thighs, and you continue to ride out your high.
You slump against Mark's body, and he holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back.
"That was so hot." Mark says.
You smile into the kiss, "The things you do to me, Mark Lee."
You hear a knock on the door, and Mark rolls down the window just a crack to see who it is.
"Yes?" you say to Johnny, standing outside the car.
"In my garage? Really?" Johnny placed his hands on his hips like a disappointed father.
"It's my car," Mark says.
"In my garage."
"Jesus, here he goes."
"We'll be out in a sec." you say to Johnny before rolling the window back up.
"I'm not finished with you yet," Mark says as he buttons up his jeans.
"Neither am I," You grab his hand as you exit the garage and head toward the house, "And I mean…Johnny does have four other spare bedrooms," you say, and Mark smirks at you, following you into the house.
[11:25 PM] WEDNESDAY
"Are you sure you like it?" Mark asks you for what seems like the fifth time tonight.
"Mark, why would I lie to you?" you ask.
"I don't know, you just seemed to love the blonde so much," he says, running his fingers through his silky dark hair.
Knowing Mark was planning on dying his hair back before his brother's wedding and seeing how his roots started to grow, you should've expected the change sooner rather than later. But still, you were surprised when he showed up at your parent's house for dinner, and you answered the door to find the brunette instead of the blonde you were expecting.
"Yeah, but you're still pretty, babe," you comb your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch.
"Thank you," he sheepishly smiles, lowering his head, attempting to hide the blush from the others rather than you. "So, I have a question for you," Mark says.
"What is it?" you ask.
"How would you like to-"
"Race wars date and location just dropped," Jaemin announces, standing from his seat.
With all of you sitting around the living room, you all wait for Jaemin to tell you.
"Well, are you gonna tell us?" Jeno asks impatiently.
"Not with that attitude," Jaemin scoffs. He clears his throat as if he's making an official announcement, stating the location before saying the date, "It starts next Friday-"
"Next Friday? Like the Friday after this one?" Mark asks.
"That is…what next Friday means?" Jaemin says.
"Mark, no," you start.
"I'm sorry," Mark looks at you apologetically.
"Wait, what?" Nyla asks.
"My brother's wedding is next Friday."
"Couldn't you just come afterwards?" Johnny asks.
"Not with that long ass drive. I know I'm good, but I'm not that good."
You were wracking your brain for every possible scenario you can come up with so that Mark would be able to go with you.
"I don't know if I'm the only one thinking this but why can't you just come down Saturday?" Chenle asks.
"I mean he could, but they changed the rule with check-in to keep too many locals from taking up space. So check-in is only available Friday. He wouldn't be able to race." Yangyang says.
"What's so wrong with that?" Summer asks.
"It's his first race wars. You really think he'd want to sit on the sidelines with you all weekend?" Renjun asks.
"Now, you listen, Huang-" Summer starts.
The bickering among your friends continued as you sit quietly, still thinking.
"What if I went with you?" you ask.
"To my brother's wedding?" Mark questions.
"I'm not trying to forcefully invite myself. But if I go with you, you and I can do that drive. We'd get there pretty late but I'm pretty sure if I talk to Taeyong I can work something out."
"You wouldn't be inviting yourself since I was just about to invite you myself."
"Really? You were gonna ask me to come as your date?" you ask, endeared.
"Well I was gonna ask you to come as my girlfriend—I mean technically you'd still be my date, but my date as my girlfriend-"
You hear nothing else after girlfriend. His girlfriend. Mark's girlfriend.
"Mark, are you kidding me?" you ask, genuinely in disbelief.
"No?"
You grab Mark's shirt and kiss him. That definitely got everyone quiet.
"Woah, woah, what did we just miss?" Haechan asks.
"I'm taking your answer as a yes," Mark says to you.
"Yes, Mark. I will come to your brother's wedding as your girlfriend," you can't help the grin stretching across your face as you say it. You then move your legs out of his lap and turn to the rest of the group. "Alright, so here's what's going to happen," you start explaining your plan to everyone.
[7:21 AM] (next) FRIDAY
"Sunny, let's go!" Nyla yells from the front door.
"I'm coming," Summer replies, dragging her oversized suitcase down the steps behind her.
Following her down the stairs, you meet the rest of your friends outside. You make sure you've packed everything you'd need for the weekend in your car before you hand your keys over to Sungchan.
"Sungchan, do you understand how much I'm trusting you right now. This is my baby," you tell him.
"Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful with her," Sungchan nods.
You watch as Shotaro helps the younger boy hook your car up to the rig connected to the back of Sungchan's vehicle.
"Kun just called me before he boarded his flight, and said the house is ready for us. And we should really get a move on if we don't wanna hit traffic," Hendery says.
"Though I do appreciate Kun letting us use the vacation house, why isn't he going?" Goeun asks.
"He's flying out to Shanghai to meet up with Winwin. He said the car scene out there is some next level shit," Yangyang says.
"So what I'm hearing is we're making a trip to China soon," Summer says.
"Can we get to this race wars first?"
"We'll see you and Mark later tonight?" Nyla asks before she gets into Jaehyun's car. You confirm with a nod. "Have fun." she tells you.
"You too. But not too much without us," you say.
"No promises," Jaehyun playfully winks at you before driving away.
[1:19 PM]
As your Uber pulls up to the venue, you feel the smile rushing to your face when you see Mark outside waiting for you. He opens your door and holds his hand out for you.
"Wow, baby, you look…damn," he licks his lips as he stands back to get a full view of you.
"Mark, knock it off," you laugh.
Mark excitedly squeezes your hand as he walks you inside, his body seemingly buzzing.
"Babe, you okay?" you ask Mark.
"Yeah, I'm just excited to introduce you to everyone."
"We basically grew up together, Mark. Haven't I been introduced to practically everyone."
"Yeah, but not as my girlfriend," he grins.
You both made your rounds for a bit, Mark proudly showing you off to everyone before he got called away when all the groomsmen were needed for pictures, leaving you to wander over to the bar.
"I see all this secret pining has finally come to an end," you hear a voice from someone at the bar beside you. Seeing the cousin of the bride wasn't surprising, but you're still happy to see him after all these years.
"It was about time, wasn't it," you say to Doyoung.
"I'll say. It was exhausting watching you two be in love and not say anything to each other," Doyoung says.
"In love? Okay, now you're over-exaggerating," you roll your eyes, sipping your drink.
"Seulgi, back me up on this," Doyoung calls his friend.
"On what?" Seulgi asks sipping on her drink, turning to you two.
"This one and Mark being so obviously in love since high school."
Seulgi turns to you and starts laughing, "Oh, you're serious?" he stops laughing, "Well he's right."
"Seulgi, you're not supposed to take his side!" you cross your arms over your chest.
"Sorry, kid."
Once it was time for the ceremony to start, the wedding coordinator ushered everyone to their seats. Before the groom came out, Mark walked down the aisle along with the maid of honor.
"You ready for that to be you next?" Doyoung asks Seulgi as the bride walks out .
"Am I," she smiled at her girlfriend, who stood along with the rest of the bridesmaids.
"I'm sorry did I miss something?" you ask.
"Oh right, I'm engaged, by the way," Seulgi says nonchalantly as music for the bride starts playing.
"What the fuck?" you try to whisper, "Oh my god, since when?"
"Since last month," she answers.
You don't have time to celebrate the news anymore, with Doyoung shushing the two of you as the groom and bride start their vows.
The last time you attended a wedding was before you could even drive, so you barely remember what happened, but you can count you weren't as emotional at the last one. It may also have to do with your proximity to the couple, almost feeling as if you were watching your own brother get married. You try to keep your composure as the bride continues on her vows.
"There's nothing in my life I regret since it had all led me to you. I knew I loved you from the second we met. You've seen my at my bests and worsts. You know about all the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, yet you still accept and love me as I am. All the days I've spent with you, laughing, crying, smiling, yelling and there's not a single one I would take back or change-"
You can't stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't really think the bride's vows would tug at your heartstrings the way they did, and all you can think about is Mark. Your eyes find his already looking at you.
As the tears fall, you give him a small smile before mouthing, "I love you," to him.
Mark tries to fight the smile coming to his face, not wanting to draw attention to himself before he mouths back, "I love you too."
You hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down your face until Doyoung handed you a tissue.
"Thank you," you whisper.
"It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Seulgi asks, also crying and pulling out her own tissues.
[5:57 PM]
Between dancing and socializing at the reception, while waiting for the cake to be cut, you and Mark ended up leaving later than you originally planned.
By the time you were in Mark's car and on the road, the sun had started to set. Mark had one hand on the wheel while you had the other in your lap, fiddling with his fingers. You look over at him, your chest filling with warmth as you take in the way the pink and orange hues contour his features.
"You know I meant what I said before," you break the silence.
"I know," he kisses the back of your hand, "I just didn't expect you'd say it first."
"Why's that?"
"Because I know how guarded you can be with your feelings sometimes," he explains, "But still, I've been in love with you since I was 16—It's kinda crazy actually, I didn't realize it until I was already on my flight to Korea."
You ignore the tears pricking your eyes as you lean closer to Mark, peppering his face with kisses.
"I love you, Mark Lee."
[10:13 AM] SATURDAY
You wake up with the sun shining on your face. You turn over, searching for the warmth of Mark's body. Considering how tired you both were, practically collapsing onto the bed when you two finally arrive some time after two this morning, you're surprised to not find Mark still sleeping beside you, his side of the bed empty.
"Mark?" you call him without opening your eyes.
"Yeah?" you hear him reply.
"Where are you?" you ask, eyes still closed.
"I'm right here, baby," you hear his voice a lot closer as the mattress sinks under his weight.
You feel his lips on yours. Still half asleep, your reaction was delayed before you kissed him back.
"This early in the morning, Mark?" you ask with a lazy smile.
"As hard as it was to stop myself yesterday, I also have a feeling we'll be pretty busy all weekend, so I'll take every chance I get." he says.
You laugh as his nose ghost over your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Mark slips his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing and cups your breast in his hand. You arch into his touch, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your head sinks into the pillows when Mark rolls the pad of his thumb over your perky nipple. Mark doesn't take his eyes away from your face as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.
Your hand finds his hair, and your fingers curl around the messy dark locks as he swirls his tongue around your areola. He gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his thigh between your legs.
"Mark..." you finally open your eyes to look at your boyfriend.
"Can I?" he asks, toying with the hem of your panties.
"Please," you nod.
Mark pulls your underwear down your legs and grips your thighs as he comfortably settles on his stomach. He guides your legs over his shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses and small bites up your thighs. Mark runs the tip of his tongue along your slit, humming when your juices land on his tastebuds.
"Oh my god, Mark," your nails lightly scratch his scalp.
He moans back at you in response, the vibrations from his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes screw shut, and you bite your lips so hard you're afraid you've drawn blood. You try with everything in your body to stay quiet. But with Mark messily eating you out, languidly moving his skilled tongue against your walls, you can't even stay still, let alone be quiet.
"Please, baby, don't stop," you tell him.
Before you even register the knock on your door, Summer enters your room, and your entire body freezes.
"Hey-Where's Mark?"
You glance at Mark under the covers between your thighs, out of sight, and he smirks. You try to hide your reaction as he teasingly kitten-licks your clit. You squeeze your thighs around his head and quickly rush out an answer for Summer.
"He went to go refill his tank before we go out today," you say.
"Oh, okay. Well, breakfast is ready in ten, then we're all leaving around 11. Cool?"
You nod. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be ready by then."
Once Summer leaves, you barely have time to be relieved with Mark picking up like he never really stopped, making you cum on his tongue.
"Fuck, Mark," you squirm, letting your orgasm wash over you. Mark continues lapping at your folds until he's satisfied. Coming from under the covers, Mark wipes the lower half of his face with the back of his hand.
"What the fuck was that?" you ask, breathless.
"You told me not to stop," he grins, and you roll your eyes, "You can't even act like you hate me 'cause I know you love me," he kisses you.
"I'm beginning to rethink that decision," you tease.
[2:24 PM]
Having been out in the sun practically all day watching races and even taking a few rides yourself, you decided to give your car and yourself a break from the sun. You parked under one of the canopies Johnny set up and took a seat on your hood. Coming back from watching Chenle race Ningning, you spot the top of Mark's head through the crowd, beginning to make his way over to you.
The look on his face can only be compared to that of a kid in a candy store. You love watching the way his eyes light up talking about the race, rambling on and on, you not minding one bit.
"So, is this everything you hoped it'd be?" you ask Mark.
He nods, subtly parting your legs to stand between them. "And so much more," he kisses you.
"Hey!" someone yells, grabbing everyone's attention, "how about you and me," Leo calls Mark out.
"Alright, how much?" Mark asks.
"No money," Leo smiles before turning to you, "I win, I get to take you out."
"As fucking if," you slide off the hood of your car, Mark instinctively wrapping his arm around you before you can get too far, some of the others coming to your defense as well. "You already had your chance and fucked that up. What makes you think I'll willingly put myself through that again? You wanna try and make yourself feel better by racing him, it'll be for two grand take it or leave it," you say to Leo.
"So he can have a shot at winning a date through a race but I can't?" Leo asks.
"Because he didn't try to win me over like I'm just a pink slip, and he doesn't have an ego bigger than an eighteen-wheeler."
"Fine. You're on, Mark," Leo nods at your boyfriend, "But we'll see if you'll feel the same when I beat him across the line," Leo smirks at you, and you scoff.
Spectators gather on either side of the runway, cheering for either racer as their cars pull up to the starting line. You had been suspiciously eyeing Leo the entire time he sat in his car with that stupid grin on his face.
"What's wrong?" Mark asks you.
"I don't doubt that you can beat him. But I don't trust he won't try anything," You say before walking up to Taeyong while Sean talks to him. "I'm riding with Mark," you tell Taeyong.
"What? You can't," Sean crossed his arms.
"There aren't any rules against it," Taeyong says.
"And how exactly do you think that'll help your little boyfriend? It can throw off his equilibrium and slow him down," Sean tries looking down his nose at you.
"Which is why you're gonna get your ass in that passenger's seat and ride with your little bestie over there," you point to Leo's car, "I mean, it's not like you haven't already gotten your own front row experience losing to my little boyfriend," you tilt your head.
Sean grumbles before he walks over to Leo's car, and you get into Mark's.
"We're really doing this?" Mark asks.
"Ride or die, remember?" you hold out your hand.
Mark smiles, finishing the quote as he takes your hand, "Ride or die."
a/n: i’m telling y’all ever since ay-yo, mark has been living in my head rent free—currently the owner of a few properties, if you will. this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and tbh it would’ve been longer if there wasn’t a text block limit so i did the best with what i had 😭 and like i said before all my knowledge about cars is based off the fast and furious movies so…thank you so much for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33
tag list <33: @chardonnayyyy @aliceinwhateverland @itzz-me-duh @nctevia @sirens-dreams @pieddpiperr @yujuvly @scarletsknight
It was Wednesday night and you had just walked into the night club of your town. Afterhours. It was a popular spot since you were a teenager - even on weekdays like this it was packed.
Your best friend had invited you to come and watch one of his favorite artists. Some new band you didn't even know the name of.
You sat by the elevators, sipping on a sparkling water and nervously typing on your phone. Jackson had said you'd meet at 7 and now it was already half past.
On top of that your phone was about to die - perfect. Jackson was always late, he knew people everywhere and always got held back, but it still made you nervous. What if something happened to him on the way?
Your phone screen turned black. "Great", you mumbled. Now it was really dead.
"All good there?" A male voice interrupted you deep in your thoughts.
You looked up to find a handsome tall man standing by the elevators. He had dark hair and wore a leather jacket.
"Y-yeah?" You stuttered. Oh my god, could you be any more embarrassing?
The young man chuckled and pushed his long dark hair back. He casually walked over and stood in front of you now. Hesitating at first, he slowly kneeled down and picked something up - my god was he cute.
The stranger carefully handed you a red colored bracelet - which was basically your ticket into the concert later. He smiled, as your hand brushed his. It was warm and instead of soft, unexpectedly rough - which made him somehow even hotter.
You looked at him for a very long time - almost too long to be honest. He had dark eyes and perfect skin. With his full lips he looked very kissable. You felt heat rise in your body, what was this stranger doing to you?
"You dropped this", he broke the silence.
"Thank you", you smiled, shaking your head and collecting your thoughts. You felt so hot, you wanted to actually fan yourself.
"Are you a fan?"
You blinked. Was this guy in your mind? What did he mean? A fan of him - oh my god definitely. But he couldn't possibly mean that. "Excuse me?"
The boy smiled, "neo?" He pointed at the bracelet. "Are you a fan of Neo?"
You were lost, who the heck was he talking about? Was there something you were missing? You tilted your head and smiled sheepishly.
The boy nodded. "The band playing tonight? Neo? I guess you're not a fan then."
He looked a bit disappointed for a moment but then chuckled, more to himself. Oh no, he must think you were stupid. How could you go to a concert and not know who was performing.
"I'm sorry", you blushed, "of course you mean the band."
"Don't worry", he leaned in a bit, "they're a bit overrated if you ask me." He winked and stepped back.
You only smiled. His scent filled your nose, it was intoxicating. He smelled like soap and vanilla.
"Well, I gotta go. But it was nice meeting you", he paused, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows a bit.
You nodded. "It was nice meeting you, too."
He pressed one of the elevator buttons and the door opened immediately. He stepped inside and turned around, holding the door open with one arm. "I'm Mark, by the way."
He smiled and you felt like melting from your chair and lying on the floor.
"Enjoy the show", he said just before the doors finally closed.
For a moment you just sat there, deep in thought and overwhelmed. Then Jackson came around the corner, talking nonstop.
"Sweetheart, I'm late", he said, looking as great as ever. He kissed you on the cheek. "Let's go, the show is about to start. Are you alright?"
He looked you up and down, as if he knew what was up. As your best friend he had a radar. "Interesting. Tell me later. We are late."
"We?" You chuckled, finally coming back to your senses. "Speaking of we. Where were you?" You hit him in the shoulder playfully.
"Sorry, some friends were by the bar and I also had to greet the DJ, an old colleague of mine." Of course. Jackson who knew everyone.
You laughed, "you're unbelievable."
You walked into the venue together, a small hall and stood almost at the front. Jackson and you chatted for a moment and you told him about the hot stranger you had just met.
He scolded you for not exchanging numbers. Typical of him. Then the show began, the lights went out and the crowd cheered. A single spot went on, lighting up the microphone on stage.
A men stepped forward, looking ethereal in the light. And, it was no other than your hot stranger, Mark? He opened his eyes, "good evening, are you ready for some music?"
You stared at him in disbelief and then his eyes met yours. Time stopped, your heart beat fast.
Then the show began.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a/n: it has been a hot minute but i have come to bless you (hopefully) with this lil scenario. Something like this but also not really happened to me last month lol so I hope you like it! <3
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing, slight angst, stalking, taunting, talks of mental health.
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Thriller, slight angst, no fluff, slowburn.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4,3k
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝: The Purple Envelope
Why not pick the Purple card? It was the obvious choice. It laid in the centre as if calling out, the better choice, the only choice. A perfect and neatly waxed seal right in the centre with lavender tucked underneath it, wafting a calming and relaxed scent into the air overpowering any other smell nearby. This was clearly the right one to choose.
As Y/n’s hand reached forward it was an obvious choice as to which she would pick. It was calling out to her, sitting in the centre of the others and closest in reach, the lavender scent wafting and hitting her nose with relaxing and calming tones to it. Her fingers moved under the envelope itself to pick it up.
Turning the letter in her hand, eyes scanning the back noting a lack of details. No sender, no address, not one word written on it. Meaning this really was just someone she knew playing tricks on her, even so she’d humour then before dumping the envelopes in her trash can to be long forgotten.
Turning the envelope back around she moved to slide her pedicured nail underneath the waxed seal pulling upwards slowly noting how the waxed seal did not stick to the paper or rip it as it unsealed, interesting. The lavender still sealed beneath the wax as she lifted the letter top upwards.
Predictably inside the letter was also a purple in colour, just a slightly lighter colour. Moving her index finger and thumb to dip into the envelope and pulling the letter free from inside. She let the envelope drop back onto the desk, her sole focus being on the letter now.
Dear Y/n,
I didn’t think any less, I knew you’d pick my letter. There was no doubt about it, my love. To think the others even thought they had a chance was laughable. It’s always been us. Though it was entertaining enough to see them put their hearts into letters that will never be opened. If you were hoping for some context, my love, you won’t be getting it just yet, be patient like I know you can be and later when I finally reveal myself and intentions you’ll enjoy the reward. Just wait a little longer, you can do that much since I’ve waited for quite some time myself.
The only one for you,
Y/n read it over four times, trying to catch any sort of similarities in who she knew, their handwriting, their wording and their telltales. But she came up short. She didn’t know this cursive handwriting, nor the formatting it was worded in. Folding it closed her eyes drifted over the edge of the letter towards her desk.
Her bare desk. Empty. Setting the letter onto the table to look around her room as if to spot the six letters she’d not chosen, as if they’d grown legs and moved somewhere else on their own. Coming up short she turned her focus back onto her desk only to be met with no more letters, not even the one she’d picked.
On the centre of her desk was only one item left. The lavender from the envelope sitting right in the centre of her desk, as if taunting her. Taking in a long winded breath inwards through her nose she moved forward to pick up the lavender, to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
Though as she picked it up pulling it closer she couldn’t help but wish it had been a figment of her imagination because as she pulled it under her nose taking in that calming yet powerful scent only lavender could give she now had to come with terms that the letters once on her desk had vanished.
An impossible feat, considering the fact inanimate objects don’t just disappear from reality.
“Fuck.” She cursed moving to chuck the lavender back onto her desk standing up, she’d make sense of it all. This was just some sick and twisted prank her friends had planned from the start all because she never entertained the thought of Halloween festivities.
Her eyes glancing over toward her meticulous calendar she’d had filled to the brim with notes on what to study, lecture times, work shifts and such. October 31st written in with lectures and study notes like any other day, a normal Thursday for her, which was today.
She was starting to regret telling some of her friends the passcode to her apartment now, of course one of them would go and abuse that trust. Trust was something she didn’t take lightly and when she found out which one had done it, they weren’t going to know her new passcode that was for sure.
It took a solid twenty minutes for her to go around her apartment for any possible hiding spots, a person could think to hide in, or places to dump the rest of the unopened letters. Yet she came up short, not one letter or person found. She summed it up as them having bounced the second they knew she was finished reading her first letter.
She made her way back towards her bedroom, even taking one step in she was hit with that scent of lavender once again. It was an overpowering scent to begin with so she wasn’t surprised that just one single stalk of it took over her room.
Walking towards her desk she stared down at it, a frown digging into her face as she moved to pick it up, twirling it between her fingers.
“The only one for me, my ass.” She scoffed, dropping the lavender directly down into the trash can below her desk.
Instead of thinking further on the badly planned prank she would no doubt find the culprit of later she decided to spend her time doing something productive considering the fact she wasn’t going to be able to sleep for quite a while. Unsettled by how someone had entered her apartment without her even realising.
Going back over to her desk she grabbed her bookmarked study textbook placing it to the left of her flipping to the page she needed at the moment before grabbing out her tablet, propping it against the wall for extra online researching from proper website sources and lastly taking out her book she used to write extra study notes in.
Moving to check the time, it was only seven pm, it felt like it was later than that. Leaning back in her chair gazing out the window she noted there were still quite a lot of trick or treaters outside going house to house. Luckily her apartment usually only got visitors on the lower levels, even so her door had a sign taped on it explaining she wasn’t available to give out candy this year.
Sitting back up she decided an hour or two would be enough time to settle down from whatever she’d just had to experience. Grabbing her black pen, twirling it back and forth in her hand, scanning over her text book, willing herself to get into the mood to focus solely on that.
Once that familiar ache was present in her wrist and finger from writing she looked towards her clock again. Two hours had passed by quite quickly, after getting into the mood to study it had only felt as if a half hour had passed. Going through her new notes one more time page for page looking for any mistakes.
Satisfied with the progress she packed everything away, though even with the study she’d done it still lingered in the back of her head. The smell was still ever so present thanks to the fact her trash can was placed right below her desk. She wanted to stop thinking about it.
Leaning into her seat her eyes unintentionally landed below on the trash can, she’d emptied it this morning so it was as if the lavender was taunting her once again, staring right back at her if it could. Y/n barely noticing the way her teeth dug against each other, clenched hard.
Forcing herself up she all but shoved the trash can from underneath her desk outwards, the metal can sliding past to the other side of the room, gliding as it went. The smell, too strong to be completely gone just from being moved.
Getting up and over to her window she looked to see there were still trick or treaters below, less than before, barely any young children and a few teenagers still roaming around probably in hopes to have the scrapes leftover from the night.
Moving her hands below the always unlatched window she pulled it upwards to let fresh air into the room, her mothers words always sticking to her even if she lived in dependably now by herself. Her mother would always walk into her bedroom unannounced back in the day, forcing her window open whether it was summer or winter claiming fresh air was not only good for her head but to keep a fresh smell.
If she was being honest with herself she knew it was really because her mother sought small interactions with her throughout the day. They interacted enough, but she didn’t mind the small interruptions on most days back then, of course some days it was a bit annoying. But these days she missed those little interactions that would consistently happen. So in a sense she figured her younger self needed the interactions back then just as much as her mother did.
She leaned out the window slightly to feel the slight breeze in the air, closing her eyes as she listened to the occasional voices that passed by. That in itself was calming. Just to stop and take everything in as it came. Once she felt it was enough she pulled her head back from the window but refrained from shutting the window deciding to let the air flow through the room for a bit longer, she might just let it stay open the whole night.
Her apartment was on the second story, so the only worry she could possibly have was a bird or some insects coming through it. But since she hadn’t had a bird incident yet and the fact she had plenty of glasses to trap unwanted crawlers from running around she would be just fine.
Y/n moved towards her bed going underneath the warm inviting blankets, having already dressed in comfortable clothing to sleep in the moment she stepped foot inside her apartment after her lectures for the day had finished. Ignoring the way her phone had pinged with messages over the course of the day about Halloween invites and such.
Grabbing her remote control she pressed the top left red button turning her small television on that was placed against the opposite side of her wall from her bed. Perfectly content on flicking through channels to whatever interested or caught her attention for the last bit of her night.
Ending up leaving it on some random slasher movie, most channels at this time playing horror movies for the obvious reason of it being Halloween. Not that she was complaining much, she didn’t really get the hype of Halloween itself but she did enjoy a good horror movie now and then, which she hadn’t had a chance to do in some time.
Half way through the second insidious movie she could feel her eyes getting heavier, as much as she didn’t like wasting electricity for the fact it racked up on her end of month bills and was bad for the climate she thought one night wouldn’t hurt out of the year to fall asleep to.
Her eyes slipped shut seconds later, content on just hearing the movie then actually watching it. Background noise was always comforting to her as she fell asleep, usually it would be in the form of music, a podcast or audio book but this way would work for her no problem too.
A strong breeze through the window caught her attention, a large gust of lavender hitting her nose causing it to scrunch slightly. Lavender was supposed to be helpful in relaxing and even helping most people fall asleep but it was just too overpowering at that moment.
Her eyes snapping open, trying to figure out why the breeze from the window could make the lavender scent so strong, head turning slowly towards the trash can in the back of her room. It was opposite of her window, the breeze would go towards it not carry it to her.
Gazing at the trash can she was suddenly wide awake again. Her bed was warm, from being laid in, but even if her body protested leaving that said warmth she had to look. Padding her now sockless feet towards the back of her room, head angled downwards to look over the edge of the trash can.
The lavender was still there, laying there not moved an inch. Tauntingly looking back up at her once again as if to mock and laugh at her having gone back to it once again. Turning her head towards the open window she noted a new added lavender piece sitting on top of the window ledge.
Whatever fucked up situation this was, she wasn’t entertaining it. And whichever friend had decided to do it would be getting an ear full tomorrow. Nearly snatching the trash can from the floor she made her way towards the window sill dumping the next lavender into it, adding to what she hoped would be a small collection with no further additions.
Before she could dump the trash can back underneath her desk in its original spot she decided on a better place. Making her way towards her bedroom door where it was slightly ajar she pulled it open chucking the trash can into the hallways before closing the door without another thought on it. She’d worry about the contents inside of it tomorrow, maybe throw it out into the proper bin outside the apartment.
As she spun around to go back to bed her body stilled. If the added lavender had appeared on her window while she had been slipping into sleep it meant one thing. She wasn’t alone. Her hands balling into fists at her sides at the realisation.
Spinning back around to face the door of her bedroom. There was no way the person was gone already from her house, this was a chance to find the culprit. No doubt in her mind it was one of her friends. They were taking this prank too far and she was ready to shake some sense into them, preferably by shoving those lavender pieces in their face.
As if on autopilot she opened her bedroom door peering into the darkness. The trash can she’d abandoned in the hallway still standing there on the floorboards. To give whoever it was a chance her mouth opened.
“If you think this was hilarious you’re wrong, you might as well show yourself now and I may go easy on you but no promises on that.” Her voice at a medium volume, enough anyone nearby would hear but the tone was definitely showing off how unimpressed she was.
Even after her words she was met with silence in return. Scoffing, she stepped outside of her bedroom and into the hallway foot grazing her trash can. It was dark, but her eyes had adjusted to the lighting now.
“Alright, the hard way it is.” Muttering to herself this time.
Her attention going towards the door opposite down the hallway seeing it was slightly ajar. She knew for a fact it had been previously closed. She never left the guest room wide open, only on cleaning day when the window was open to let air circulate around her home.
It was too obvious that one of her friends had decided to hide there for now. She tried keeping her footing light and unnoticeable as she went towards the guest room, thankful now about how she knew which floorboards were creaky, having lived here long enough by now to know small details like this.
Her fingers clasped around the edge of the guest room door pushing it slowly open, half relieved she’d taken the time to oil the hinges on all her doors a month ago as it silently opened up instead of creaking.
The guest room seemingly empty once she’d opened the door fully. Peering inside, no person in sight, the window also shut. Taking a few steps into the room her shoulders dropped, unknowingly having tensed up beforehand.
She hadn’t been prepared for the door to swing shut, instead of moving her body decided on not doing flight or fight. Freezing in her spot as if her feet were glued down to the tacky looking carpeted floor.
“I’m surprised you’d walk into a room without checking the most obvious hiding spot, behind the door.” An all too familiar voice spoke out from behind her.
His words finally caused her to be able to move, which she did, turning to face him. Mark looked every bit unbothered where he stood leaning against the wall exactly where the door had been previously covering his figure. With one detail missing from him, the smile he usually carried on his lips was missing.
“Of all people it was you who decided to play this shitty prank on me? Come on, Mark, seriously? You better have a damn good explanation for it because I don’t find it at all funny.” Y/n was quick to scold her friend.
It was pretty surprising to find out it had been Mark this whole time, sure she could get Donghyuck or Chenle doing it. But Mark? This was very out of character for him, or at least from what she knew about her friend it was.
“Fuck baby use that brain I know you have.” Mark laughed out, seemingly amused by the whole situation. Irritatingly enough, still leaning relaxed against the wall as if he owned the place.
Those words alone hitting her right in the chest. The usually ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ had seemingly been replaced with a much less platonic nickname. Not to mention the back handed complement she’d just received. He’d actively avoided her words in favour of basically giving an offensive response.
“Are you alright in the head currently Mark? Because I know very well you didn’t just invite yourself into my home, insulting me.” She scolded moving closer, her movement not lost on him as Mark stood up from where he’d been leaning.
“Oh, come on Y/n. Think.” He taunted moving a hand towards her face, one she caught, fingers wrapping around his wrist to stall his action. His smile only growing into a grin as he pushed his hand to poke her head slightly.
“You think that letter was just some prank? The lavender? Now what kind of normal person can do something like that?” He teased out, she was just about ready to wipe that shit eating grin off his face.
“How about instead of expecting me to just know what you’re trying to do as if I can read your mind and just say it out loud Mark, because right now you’re really starting to piss me off.”
Her words only made him let out a small amused noise, eyes glinting in the dark. She knew how to rile him up in the best ways without even trying.
“Have I ever told you that the way you speak really does things to me?” He asked out, head leaning forward to be closer to hers.
“Baby I’m not just some university golden boy. You should have gotten the hints by now. I’m slightly offended if that’s all you thought about me. Do I really have to spell it out to you?”
His words only proved to confuse her further, but upon inspecting his eyes she didn’t see the tell tale signs of glassiness or a dazed look meaning he was not on drugs, something she preferred in this situation. She hadn’t totally ruled out a mental breakdown though.
“Mark, it’s way too late for this bullshit.” She practically hissed out in frustration at this point, she could barely recognise her friend. His usual bright personality replaced with some smug asshole at the moment.
“Spelling it out, it is.” He hummed out pulling his hand away from her head.
“You know the curious thing about sins? There’s seven main types, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth being six of them, but the main one, yeah the main one is pride. Six of them all lead down the path of pride. If you really think about it. Pride branches out into all those sins. Pride makes everyone succumb to their desires.”
Y/n just watched him ramble, eyeing how his hands moved gesturing as he talked. She was now certain Mark was currently in a state of mania, or at least some form of mental breakdown. Though Mark paused glancing at her reaction, her facial expression.
“On one hand this is probably a lot for you to take in that I can get, but man it’s great to get it off my chest. Sure it was fun playing around for a bit, but it’s kind of digging into my ego to play the goodie two shoes for so long.”
With a click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth he watched her. A few seconds passed before deciding he was done playing. Rolling his shoulders back and with a quick tilt of his jaw the guest bedroom door shut on its own tightly.
Y/n nearly jumping, mind racing for possible logical reasons, eyes glancing at the window that was still shut, meaning it couldn’t have been the wind. Her attention zeroed back onto Mark as he cleared his throat clearly wanting her to focus solely on himself.
“Let’s cut to the chase baby. I’m him, I’m basically the embodiment of Pride itself, then again I go by a lot of names. I mean Lucifer is a bit overused these days and prince of hell is kind of tacky if I’m honest. I did get used to being called Mark after hearing it from you so much so let’s just stick with that, yeah?”
“You’ve gone insane.” She mumbled not even noticing the fact she’d taken a step backwards, Mark following her with two steps closer.
“Insane? Really? Love, you can give a better reaction than that. I was hoping for maybe a scream or even better you profess that undying love you definitely have for me.” He responded, eyes never leaving her face, always watching, waiting.
“Right because whatever this is, definitely makes me like you.” She scoffed out, the situation would have any sane person filing a restraining order.
“The deflecting is very obvious, come on, we both know you like me. Or well maybe the version you got used to. But don’t worry you’ll get used to the real me very soon. I like you too so we shouldn’t have any problems with that.” Mark reassured her as if everything about how the night had played out was completely normal.
It was true, Y/n had liked Mark. Practically adored the way he’d wear a goody smile on his face in nearly any situation. They’d gotten closer in the past year with being in nearly all the same lectures. But now she wasn’t entirely sure that had been as much of a coincidence as she’d thought it had been.
The man in front of her however, was the exact opposite. Practically a stranger, one that had been over so many times to her home, someone who’d she’d shared her deepest secrets with on late exam study nights, the person to hold her hair back when she’d vomit out the liquor she’d gulped down on the rare occasion she did go out to party and so much more.
Her skin crawled at the fact she’d been fooled by him for so long. Even if he wasn’t a demon like he claimed to be, the fact he had acted this whole time like a different person was sickening. He’d tailored his personality to suit her, bring down her guard and worm his way into her life like an infestation.
Infestations were a nightmare to get rid of, and at times nearly impossible. Y/n wasn’t dumb, just by Mark’s gaze alone she knew she was in for hell, metaphorically and apparently also literally.
“What’s got you thinking so hard hm?” He asked out tilting his head just the slightest bit, trying to figure her out.
“So let me get this straight. You just assumed that once I read that very dramatic letter you wrote, and then showed up unannounced in my home with that fully loaded explanation I’d just what? Accept it? Beg you to sweep me off my feet and walk away into the sunset?” She asked out boldly, shoulders tense with that stubborn look she tended to get resting on her face.
Mark smirked at her choice of words, though his jaw tightened, ticking the slightest bit. Her words bruising his ego just a bit, but you don’t just go knocking Pride over. It’s not the best idea, and those who tried never ended up coming out unscathed.
“It would be the easiest outcome, wouldn’t it?” He rhetorically asked out, taking another step closer. Enough for her to get a whiff of lavender, a connection she should have made quite a long time ago the moment she’d opened that damned envelope.
She stood her ground, head tilting only a bit when he made his way towards her, their chests practically touching. Trying to hold her ground.
“But… knowing you, it won't be that simple. It’s okay, I never could resist a challenge and you my dear are my greatest challenge yet. One I will enjoy with great pleasure completing. Because the moment you met me, you were already mine.”
He’d known you well before the day you’d officially met two years ago. It was no coincidence on that cliché day where you’d quite literally bumped into him spilling your warm beverage over his crisp white sweater in the middle of the campus cafe.
“I’m not yours, especially now knowing what you are.” Y/n gritted out, trying to seem unaffected by his close proximity.
Mark moved to graze his nose slightly against hers whispering out.
“Then let’s change that. I’ll show you how tempting it is. Y/n, you’re dripping in my own sin. Too prideful for your own good.”
(This Taglist is used for all my nct context so if you’d like to be tagged in my nct content please comment or write to me to be added)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Y/n really be not having it in this one. The two are not gonna back down 😵💫 sidenote: due to rushed time this is not proofread and will be edited soon.
