#kibfic

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | six (preview)

Well, this wasn’t exactly what you’d been expecting when Mark had asked you to come camping.

Instead of a campground or maybe just a clearing in the middle of the woods, you’d pulled up in the passenger’s seat of Mark’s car to find an impressive, two story log cabin. Not exactly roughing it.

“I thought we were camping?” you asked, fingers frozen on your seatbelt.

Mark looked over at you, slipping his sunglasses up to the top of his head. “We are. I mean, I guess it isn’t traditional camping…”

That wasn’t to say you were disappointed that you wouldn’t be sleeping in a tent in the woods, considering you had a severe fear of bugs and bears and everything that scurried around at night, but something about it made you nervous.

“Is this okay?” Mark asked, as if he sensed your hesitation.

Cabins were romantic. Your mind was already daydreaming about cozying up under a blanket by the fireplace with Mark, and you hadn’t even seen the inside. This certainly wouldn’t make your life any easier.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry,” you told him, shaking the traitorous thoughts from your head.

After your near-kiss experience last week, you were once again desperately trying to remain friendly with Mark. Strictly friendly. Even though it had really, truly felt like he’d wanted to kiss you. Maybe you were a little more socially awkward than the average, but there was no way you were misreading his signals.

But it was driving you insane, waiting for him to finally cross that line whenever you were alone - if he ever did.

It wasn’t that he was avoiding you, because you were still spending most of your free time together. Whether that was a long walk with Milo or a several hours long Netflix binge, you were seeing more of Mark than ever.

But he kept his distance, and you were reaching your limit.

Behind you, two more cars followed, pulling up to take the spots on either side of Mark’s car. Jackson grinned at you from the driver’s seat of his sleek, shiny black Audi. It made you feel better that he was here; Mark had made it sound like only couples would be in attendance, but today he’d informed you that Jackson had decided to come along at the last minute. Maybe it would relieve some of the tension.

Yugyeom, his girlfriend Soyeon, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung were in the other car, easy to spot by the R&B bumping from the stereo. It wasn’t even noon yet, but this group was obviously hyped for the weekend ahead.

Mark looked over at you, raising his brows.

“Ready?”

With a deep breath, you nodded, somehow feeling like you were about to walk right into the lion’s den.

===

Once everybody rolled their luggage into the cabin, along with eight bags of groceries and three cases of beer, Dahyun suggested an afternoon swim to kick things off while the boys worked on building the campfire. Yugyeom and Mark followed her orders without question, but Jackson lagged behind.

“But I don’t know how to build a fire. Can’t I join you guys?” he asked, removing his sunglasses to wiggle his eyebrows. “I promise I’ll just be another one of the girls.”

“Aht! It is way too early in this trip for you to be creeping,” Chaeyoung told him, flicking his forehead as she passed by him. “Now go outside and maybe you can learn a thing or two from the real men.”

“That’s sexist,” Jackson replied, hand on his heart like he’d been mortally wounded. Chaeyoung had already waved him off, heading up to the second floor with her suitcase that was at least three times the size of yours.

You bit back a smile as you watched Jackson sulk, following Mark and Yugyeom out to the back yard. Why couldn’t you have feelings for him instead? It would make your life a hell of a lot less complicated. He wasn’t much younger than Mark, but he also wasn’t your brother’s former best friend. Or your roommate.

Jackson was the type of guy you would have gone crazy for in high school. You’d always been a sucker for those outgoing, charming, class clown types. Maybe it was because you’d been so quiet and reserved, you were drawn to somebody who could pull you out of your shell.

But now there was a sour taste in your mouth and you found it nearly impossible to trust the guys who could always say the right things and look at you like you were the prettiest thing they had ever seen. You’d fallen for it once, and vowed not to do it again.

You followed Dahyun and Soyeon upstairs with your duffel bag in tow, your eyes taking in the beautiful high ceilings and rustic interior of the cabin. God, this place was like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. Except it was the middle of August and there were no twinkling lights to be seen.

The other girls picked out their rooms easily while you lagged behind, biting your lip as you looked, in vain, for a room with two beds. You gulped when you realized there was only a room with one double bed, and another with a queen sized bed. Neither were ideal for your current situation.

“Oh damn, looks like you’ll have to share a bed. Question is, will it be with Jackson or Mark?”

You jumped at the voice behind you, turning to find Dahyun peeking over your shoulder. She was giving you a knowing smile, almost like she’d planned the entire situation - which was crazy and obviously not true. At the very least, she was clearly amused.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, heading through the doorway of the room with the queen bed.

Dahyun laughed, almost evilly, as she leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m kidding. I mean, I don’t think you’d get any complaints from either of them, but…”

Her words didn’t make you feel any better. You wanted Mark, but this back and forth was starting to wear you down. If he didn’t make some kind of move this weekend, you would have no choice but to give up. If you had to share a bed while he refused to come closer than two feet from you, you might just scream.

“I don’t know, Mark might be too much of a gentleman. He’ll probably insist on sleeping on the couch,” you confided, a twinge of disappointment in your voice that would be hard to miss.

You tossed your bag onto the bed before turning to sit on the mattress, the older girl looking down at you with a frown.

“He is a gentleman, but…”

The way Dahyun trailed off had you looking up, feeling hopeful despite yourself.

“But?”

“But,” she said, glancing behind herself to make sure there were no eavesdroppers nearby. “Between you and me, he absolutely wants to share this bed with you. This bed, the couch, any other flat surfaces you might happen upon…”

Immediately, your cheeks felt warm, simply from the hypothetical scenarios your mind was already running wild with. God, you sounded like a horny teenager, desperate for your crush to touch you.

“Are you sure? I feel like I have no idea what he’s thinking, ever. One second we’re sharing a pint of ice cream and playing Battleground and the next, he can’t get far enough away from me.” You couldn’t help but to sigh, your shoulders deflating. “It’s driving me up the wall, Dahyun.”

“First of all,” she said, “no one ever knows what Mark is thinking. He’s gone several eight hour shifts at the shop without saying a word to anyone besides his clients. Second of all, if you ask me, he likes you. That’s glaringly obvious. But he cares about you, and doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s kind of his thing, ya know? Doing the right thing.”

You curled your lip and crossed your arms over your chest. “I don’t care about doing the right thing.”

Dahyun laughed, but you were dead serious. You’d spent your entire life trying to do the right thing and tip toe around authority, never upsetting anyone. It hadn’t ever gotten you anything besides good grades and a social life drier than the Sahara desert.

“Alright, so you wanna shake him up a little?” Dahyun asked, raising an eyebrow diabolically.

You nodded. “More than anything.”

“Then throw on a skimpy bikini and come outside. I’ve got an idea, and you might hate me for it at first, but you just have to trust me.”

Narrowing your eyes, you spared a glance towards your suitcase. While you had packed the only bikini you owned, you weren’t sure it qualified as skimpy. But it would have to do.

“Do I want to know?” you asked. Dahyun knew Mark maybe even better than you did, so you trusted her, but the mischievous grin on her face had you a bit nervous.

“No,” she answered bluntly. “But it will be worth it. It’s go time, meet us downstairs in five!”

With that, Dahyun waved and exited the bedroom, shutting the door on her way out.

At this point, you were desperate enough to agree to whatever might get Mark to actually do something. If that meant prancing around with your tits on display, then you were willing to give it a try.

full chapter 6 coming soon!

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth. 

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense. 

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him. 

“Yeah.” 

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective. 

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?” 

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused. 

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.” 

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended. 

Youngjae snorted. 

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most. 

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice. 

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.” 

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next. 

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” 

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months. 

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.” 

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction. 

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face. 

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.” 

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?” 

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.” 

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled. 

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could. 

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal. 

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours. 

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud. 

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do. 

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance. 

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse. 

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun. 

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.” 

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-” 

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?” 

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for. 

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.” 

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up. 

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…” 

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up. 

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed. 

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.” 

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom. 

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-” 

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not. 

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat. 

“Same for me,” Mark agreed. 

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!” 

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back. 

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks. 

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down. 

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.” 

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them. 

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds. 

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more. 

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.” 

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.” 

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line. 

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed. 

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world. 

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was. 

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes. 

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family. 

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first. 

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?” 

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.” 

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone. 

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.” 

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again. 

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch. 

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.” 

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked. 

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents. 

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him. 

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure. 

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?” 

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it. 

“Both of us. Just trust me.” 

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him. 

“I’ll even go first,” you told him. 

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion… 

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask. 

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask. 

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…” 

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought. 

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?” 

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…” 

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding. 

“Okay.” 

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!” 

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times. 

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!” 

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists. 

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist. 

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek. 

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing. 

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder. 

“Mark! Stop it!” 

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away. 

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs. 

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest. 

“Y/N,” Mark whispered. 

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled. 

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch. 

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat. 

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could… 

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing. 

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this. 

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise. 

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before. 

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.  

Maybe he had a sixth sense. 

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet. 

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice. 

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left. 

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him. 

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard. 

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night. 

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | four

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

word count: 4k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hellloooooo my loves! thanks for your patience with this update! please let me know what you think about the update :) 

✩ index here ✩

The last time you went bowling, you were eight years old. 

It was your birthday, and you’d declared that the one thing you’d wanted was for the whole family to spend the day together. Lately, Taehyung had been focused on graduating and you’d barely seen him around the house. Your dad was always working, and your mom offered little to no comfort. 

So it had been your birthday wish to have just one day that you could be a family. 

For the first time in your life, you’d had a perfect day. Even Taehyung had put his responsibilities aside and come along, which had been the best part. 

You didn’t win, of course. You had little to no hand-eye coordination - but you’d had more fun than you could ever remember having with your family. The one time you bowled a strike, Taehyung grabbed you and put you on his shoulders, doing laps up and down the lane while you giggled until your cheeks hurt. 

When you entered the bowling alley, you tried not to remember that day. It would only bring you sadness and make you long for something you could never have again.

Instead, you honed in on a different feeling in your bones. You were meeting Mark’s friends for the first time, and it had been a long time since you’d been in such a large group. You couldn’t help but feel nervous. It made you want to steal the leather jacket Mark was wearing and let yourself be swallowed up by the heavy material. 

College had been a learning experience, to say the least, and one of the most prominent lessons had been that it was easy to lose yourself in situations like these. When drinks were flowing, music was blasting, and people were laughing - you didn’t have a great track record. 

Nonetheless, you let Mark lead you back to his friends after grabbing the right shoes, anxiously shoving your hands into the pockets of your shorts. 

“Look who showed up!” Dahyun exclaimed once you joined their group, standing up from the cushioned seats in front of the alley. 

She brushed right past Mark to embrace you in a tight hug, squeezing your shoulders and briefly rocking you back and forth. 

“Damn, hello to you too,” Mark murmured. He shook his head and greeted the rest of his friends, exchanging one of those dude handshakes with a tall, lean guy with shaggy black hair. 

When Dahyun let you go, she linked her arm through yours and brought you over to the group. “Everybody, this is Y/N.” 

“Hi,” you responded with a shy wave. 

The tall guy reached out his hand. “Hi, I’m Yugyeom.” 

He had a face that made you feel like you could trust him, a smile that seemed more innocent than anything else. You couldn’t help but to return his smile and grasp his hand. 

“Hi,” you said again, before Dahyun was pointing to the next person. 

“This is Jackson,” she said, gesturing to a guy leaning coolly against the booth, chestnut brown hair swooped away from his face to reveal his sparkling smile. 

You recognized him as the male you’d seen on that first day, the one that asked Dahyun for napkins. He was wearing a muscle shirt again, revealing the sleeves of swirling lines on both of his toned arms. 

After shaking his hand, Dahyun led you to the next person. Instead of pointing at her, Dahyun wrapped her arms around the short haired blonde and slapped a kiss on her cheek. 

“This is my other half, my bae, my lady. Or, you may call her Chaeyoung.” 

Chaeyoung crinkled her nose and wriggled out of her girlfriend’s grasp with a giggle, reaching forward to shake your hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.” 

Although they were all older than you, you didn’t quite feel the age gap as you thought you would. Yugyeom had a young soul and you felt comfortable as he helped you choose a bowling ball with the right weight. 

Jackson was friendly, too, claiming you for his team before anyone else could get the chance. He said he got a good feeling from you, that you’d be his lucky charm. All you could do was blush and send Mark a shrug. 

While Mark typed in everybody’s name into the machine, transferring them up onto the screen above your heads to show the scores, you accepted the cider that Dahyun slipped into your hands. If anything, perhaps it would loosen you up. 

-- -- --

“If looks could kill,” Dahyun said as she slid into the booth next to Mark. 

Mark brought his beer bottle to his lips, sending a side glance to his friend. “Huh?” 

Dahyun just laughed, tipping her own beer back as she followed Mark’s line of sight. There was Jackson, dancing with you to the techno song playing over the speakers. You were laughing so hard your cheeks were pink. 

“If looks could kill, Jackson would be six feet under,” she finished, nudging his shoulder. “You got a thing for Y/N?” 

Mark scoffed, a bit too quick, and shook his head. “No. No, she’s my friend’s sister.” 

Dahyun snorted. “Okay, and? Chaeyoung was my coworker. Are we just stating facts?”

She didn’t get it. Mark didn’t blame her - she didn’t know the full story. When he was younger, your parents and Tae were the closest things he’d had to family. It would have been downright betrayal to look at you as anything more than a friend. 

But he couldn’t help staring, narrowing his eyes as he watched Jackson adjust your shoulders and hips before you bowled your first shot. He was sure that whatever he was feeling, it wasn’t jealousy. Something curled in his gut, though, when he watched Jackson’s fingers brush against the flower on your shoulder blade, the tattoo Mark had given you himself. 

And for fuck’s sake, did you have to be wearing shorts? It was hot outside, sure, but… 

He shook the thoughts out of his head, realizing that he was the one staring at your legs, not Jackson. Dahyun must have noticed as well, because she nudged him once again and giggled. 

“You’re screwed, dude.”

I’m aware, Mark wanted to say. Instead, he knocked back the rest of his beer. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from you, half out of protectiveness, the other half was something else entirely, something he couldn’t identify. 

-- -- --

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, watching as your bright pink bowling ball knocked down six pins. It was the most you’d gotten in one turn in the whole duration of the game. You were really bad at this, somehow even worse than you had been when you were eight. 

“You did it!” Jackson yelled happily, pulling you into his arms and lifting you off your feet. You’d had a couple of ciders already, making you feel light and happy as the older man spun you around. 

Jackson was cute. More than just cute - he was handsome enough to be a Disney prince. And he was funny, too. You could tell he was kind. He made you feel special when he laughed at your little quirks during the game, but you knew it was dangerous. 

It wouldn’t be the first time you fell for a hot guy with a charming smile and kind eyes, and you’d told yourself you never would again. So even though he made you laugh and you liked the way he placed his hand on the small of your back, you were cautious. 

Mark was quiet. When it wasn’t his turn, he was mostly brooding in the corner nursing a beer or chatting quietly with Dahyun. You wondered why he wasn’t talking to you, or even looking at you. 

For a moment, you wondered if he was angry with you. He hadn’t spoken to you much, not that he was a man of many words, but you had been getting along so well lately. And he’d wanted you to come, right? 

It occurred to you that maybe he hadn’t, really, and he’d just invited you to be polite. The thought made an unpleasant feeling coil in your gut. 

“Last turn, you know what that means!” 

A female voice called from behind you and you turned to see Chaeyoung carrying a tray of shots - at least a dozen, probably more - to your table. Your eyes widened. This wasn’t for one person, was it?!

“Yes!” Dahyun pumped her fist into the air and skipped over to her girlfriend, helping her set the tray down on the table. 

“Shit, we’re still doing that?” Mark asked, his voice full of annoyance. 

The girls ignored him and Dahyun turned to you. “The rule is, on your last turn, however many pins you leave standing - you take that many shots. It’s a tradition.” 

You blinked a few times, staring down at the tiny shot glasses which were full of a caramelly brown liquid - probably whiskey or bourbon. Not that you had experience with either, but your old roommates always had half empty bottles laying around. 

“You don’t have to,” Mark said low in your ear. You jumped, not knowing he was next to you. When you turned to him, he was giving you a dark look, like he was trying to tell you not to do it. 

Suddenly, you were reminded of your brother. Taehyung was still texting you every day, telling you to go home to your parents, to grow up. He meant well, deep down, but you hated the way he thought he had a right to give you orders. 

Instead of giving in, being the obedient naive girl your brother wanted you to be, you turned from Mark to Dahyun. 

“Oh, no. I’m definitely doing it.” 

-- -- --

“Ohhh, look at your grumpy face. You look like an old man,” you said, poking your fingertip into Mark’s cheek. “Silly.” 

He should have stopped you. Mark had watched as you took five shots, one after the other. In all honesty, you’d knocked them back like a champ with hardly a grimace. But it was a quick downward spiral from there. 

After tearing you away from Chaeyoung and Dahyun, who you were claiming to be your new sisters, Mark led you out of the bowling alley. With your arm around his neck and his arm stabilizing your waist, he felt like he was dragging a dead body with how helpful you were being. 

Now that you were in the backseat of the Uber, you seemed to be gaining a second wind. You were leaning towards him, batting your eyelashes at him with the most infuriating, adorable smile he’d ever seen. 

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, grin dropping into a pout. 

Mark sighed. He was used to being the one to take care of his drunk friends - Jackson wasn’t always as good at holding his liquor as he was now. Not to mention all the trouble he and Taehyung used to get into in their teen years. 

“I’m not mad.” 

You blinked a few times, scrutinizing his features. “It feels like you’re mad.” 

“I’m not,” he insisted, licking his lips. “I just feel like I should have been more responsible.” 

You furrowed your brow and huffed, deflating back against the seat. “I’m not your responsibility, Mark. You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Yes, I do,” Mark replied. “Someone has to.” 

It appeared you didn’t like his answer. You crossed your arms over your chest, tearing your eyes away from him to stare out the window. 

“I’m not a kid,” you said, almost a mutter under your breath, but Mark heard you. He chewed at his lip, staring at you for a moment before he exhaled. 

“I know,” Mark admitted, voice low. “I know. Look, I’m sorry, I know you’re an adult. I just…” 

How could he put it into words? Something about you made him want to protect you, and it wasn’t just that you were younger, that you’d been so sheltered growing up and deserved to have someone shield you from the scary world. There was something else pulling him, and he couldn’t put his finger on it just yet. 

“We’re friends, Y/N. So I wanna make sure you’re safe, okay? And I should have been looking out for you tonight, and I feel like I wasn’t,” he said. 

Mark had been so broody, sitting beside himself while he watched you drink cider after cider that was handed to you, his eyes following every move you made. Until, of course, you looked at him, and he made sure to appear as uninterested as possible. 

He watched you swallow and consider his words before you turned back to him. Thick silence hung between the two of you and he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d said you were friends or because he’d admitted that he had been a dick. 

“I wanna live,” you said, and Mark almost thought you were sobering up, but your eyes still appeared glassy and unfocused. “I moved here to live. And… and I felt like I could, tonight, because you were there.” 

Mark ignored the way he felt his heart pound in his chest, hard against his ribs. 

Luckily, he didn’t need to form a response because the driver had pulled up to the apartment building. Mark thanked him and helped you out of the car, noticing the way you shivered once the cool night air hit your bare skin.

“Here,” Mark said, shrugging his leather jacket off of his shoulders and draping it over yours. “You have goosebumps.” 

“Thank you,” you said. Your cheeks turned pink, radiating all the way up to your ears. 

With a steadying breath, Mark led you back into the building, his hand placed on the small of your back the whole way. 

Once you finally made it into the apartment, you’d seemed to regain some of your wits. Though you stumbled once or twice on thin air, your intoxication at least seemed to be at a steady level.

With Milo on his heels, Mark grabbed a bottle of water for you, handing it to you with strict instructions to sip it slowly, but to finish the whole thing before you went to bed. You pouted and saluted him sarcastically before giving Milo a goodnight kiss and heading off to your room. 

Mark watched as you disappeared down the hallway, each step careful as if you were trying not to appear drunk. You’d had five shots and god only knows how many ciders, you were definitely still drunk. But he admired your effort, at least. 

“What am I gonna do with her,” Mark said to Milo, shaking his head and picking the tiny dog up. Milo offered no wisdom in return, just kissed his face until Mark had to cut him off and set him down. 

Despite Mark’s worries, he attempted to go about his night just as he normally would. He heard you opening and closing dresser drawers, probably a bit louder than you intended, signaling to him that you were at least capable of getting yourself changed for bed on your own. Thank god for that. 

Mark himself changed into his usual sleepwear, a pair of basketball shorts and a muscle shirt, then proceeded to wash his face and brush his teeth. He felt like his ears were perked, waiting for any sign of trouble so that he could come to your rescue. It was a strange, pathetic feeling. 

He glimpsed your figure out of the corner of his eye while he was mid-brush, purple toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. You had your toiletry bag in your arms, your previous outfit swapped out for a pair of leggings and an oversized college shirt. 

“Can I?” you asked, nodding with your chin to the empty space at the sink. 

“Mm,” he murmured in response, holding up one finger to signal you to wait a moment. He quickly finished brushing his teeth and rinsed his mouth, then took a sidestep to make room for you at the sink. 

He tried not to stare at you and instead pretended like he was checking the shelf above the toilet for something, though he paid attention to the way you sat your bag down and unzipped it, sifting through it until you pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and a cotton pad. 

You seemed a bit unsteady, wobbling a on your feet just standing still. You were holding the cotton pad and makeup remover in each hand, biting hard onto your lip. 

“Y/N?” Mark asked. “You good?” 

With a sigh, you shook your head. “Don’t feel good.” 

“Well, that might have something to do with the liter of alcohol you drank,” he remarked with a smirk. 

You whined and turned to Mark, surprising him by holding the items in your hands out to him. “Help. If I have to stare at myself in the mirror, I’m going to throw up.” 

All he could do for a moment was stare down at your hands, the objects that were basically foreign to him. He’d never touched a bottle of makeup remover in his life, and the only time he used cotton swabs were for sterilization at the shop.

“I… what?” he stuttered. 

“Just pour this on this, then wipe my makeup away. It’s easy.” 

Mark blinked a few times, torn between telling you to do it yourself or just walking away. But the way you were gazing up at him with glassy eyes and the most pathetic frown was what made him reach for the cotton pad and makeup remover. 

“Okay, just, close your eyes. And you can’t be mad at me if I do it wrong.” 

You smiled, then, turning your body to lean back against the sink. Mark stood in front of you, popping open the cap of liquid and pouring some onto the cotton round. You gave him a nod of approval at the amount he used, then closed your eyes. 

He slid the cotton pad over your eyes, overly gentle at first to a point where nothing was removed. So he went over again, until he was sure that he got the hang of it. He watched as all your mascara and eyeliner was wiped away, not that you’d had very heavy makeup on to start with. 

“Mark,” you whispered, after he’d gotten your eye makeup off. You opened your eyes and Mark realized just how close to you he was standing, but he didn’t make any effort to move away. 

“Yeah?” he replied, just as quietly. 

“Why haven’t you asked why I’m not talking to my parents?” 

Mark swallowed, his hand dropping from your face. “I figured you would tell me when you felt comfortable.”

You nodded. “I feel like I should tell you.”

“You don’t have to,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not if you’re not ready.”

Your bodies were so close together, he could smell the lingering perfume on your skin and he tried so hard not to inhale too deep, not to notice how good you smelled. 

“I dropped out of school,” you blurted out. “When I told my parents, they…” you blew out an exhale, your eyes staring out over Mark’s shoulder as if you were remembering how it all happened. “They told me I could go back to school or get out of their house. They didn’t ask why I dropped out, or if I was okay, they just wanted me gone.”

Mark didn’t respond, although he had a thousand questions begging to be answered. But he wanted to give you the time, the space to share more if you wanted. 

“I hated school. My grades were fine, they were excellent really, but I was miserable. I ended up… doing something really stupid, and it was the last straw.”

When you didn’t continue, instead locking eyes with Mark again, he swallowed and chose his words carefully. 

“I’m sorry. No matter how I feel about your parents, that’s… it’s messed up. You deserve to have their support,” he said quietly, slowly bringing his hand back up to your face. 

He swiped the cotton pad across your cheek, taking your makeup and a stray tear with it. You nodded and sniffed once. 

“It’s okay. But that’s why I’m here,” you told him, voice quiet. “They forced me out. And I wanted to have a life, so I came to the city.”

“And?” Mark asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Is it everything you ever dreamed of?” 

You laughed, soft and breathy. “It’s not so bad. I’ve got good company.” 

When your eyes met, Mark felt that grip on his heart again. The way you looked at him made his mind foggy, like he had been the one to take five shots of whiskey. He hadn’t been looked at like this in a long time, maybe ever. 

“Close your eyes,” Mark said. His voice came out deeper, more gravelly than he intended. 

After you obeyed, he slid the cotton pad over your other eye to remove the makeup there, at least grateful to be free of your overwhelming gaze. 

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” you whispered, catching him off guard. 

Mark was used to this question. At the age of thirty, he was expected to be in a serious relationship, if not already married. So when people found out he’d been single for years, they were shocked. 

“Uh, well-” Mark stuttered, his fingers pausing as they brushed against your cheek. “I… I don’t go out a lot. And I guess I like being alone. I’m comfortable like this.”

“What about me?”

There it was again, that thumping in his chest. 

“You’re different,” he whispered. He didn’t even notice he had dropped the cotton pad, leaving nothing between the soft skin of your cheek and his hand. 

Your eyes fluttered open - clear, and so, so close. It stirred something in him, a feeling that had remained dormant for what felt like his entire life. 

Then your lips were against his. It happened so fast, he didn’t even know who leaned in first. He was pretty sure you’d kissed him, but he had felt so drawn to you in that moment that he couldn’t be sure. 

It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough. Enough for you to tilt your head, slip your tongue past his lips. God, it’d been so long… 

Mark surged back a step, his shins colliding with the tub behind him. He inhaled sharply, his lips tingling from your kiss. 

“Oh, god,” you said, your eyes flying open. “Oh my god. Mark, I…” Your hand came up to cover your mouth as you stared at him. 

“Shit,” Mark muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “Shit. It’s okay.”

He couldn’t look at you. He was looking anywhere but at your face as he rubbed his neck, trying to process the last ten seconds. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You turned from him, grabbing your bag from the sink and scurrying out of the room. 

Mark watched you leave, listening for the sound of your bedroom door shutting behind you. He groaned quietly to himself, leaning his palms onto the sink. 

“Fuck. Shit. You’re so fucking stupid,” he told himself in the mirror. 

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Once, twice, three times. He had no explanation, no excuse for what had just happened. You’d been the one to initiate the kiss, but he’d kissed you back. 

He knew better. Despite the circumstances, he knew better than to look at you like that, as anything other than a friend. A little sister, even. 

With one deep inhale and a long exhale, Mark made up his mind. He would do the right thing, no matter how hard it was or how much you’d hate him for it. 

He grabbed his phone off of the sink, browsing his contacts until he found the name he’d been looking for. It was his new number, but he hoped he would answer. 

Holding the phone up to his ear, Mark listened as the phone rang three times. He almost hung up, deciding that maybe it wasn’t worth it. Tomorrow, he could tell you to call him yourself. 

The ringing stopped. “Hello?”

He cleared his throat. “Taehyung? Hey, man. It’s Mark.”

“Mark? Shit, it’s been a while. What’s up?”

Mark kept his eyes on the mirror, making sure he got a good look at himself as he flipped your world upside down. 

“Look, this is probably unexpected, but… I need to talk to you. It’s about your sister.” 

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | chapter 5 (preview)

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth.

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense.

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him.

“Yeah.”

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective.

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?”

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused.

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.”

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended.

Youngjae snorted.

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows.

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most.

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice.

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know she may not be the most convenient person for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.”

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next.

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months.

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.”

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction.

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face.

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.”

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?”

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.”

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?”

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled.

Full chapter to be posted Tuesday, December 22nd at 11pm EST!

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | three

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi everyone! thank you for being so patient with me for this chapter! if you follow me i’ve mentioned a few times that i’m struggling with writer’s block these days, but i’m pushing through it. i hope you guys like this chapter and if you have any questions or feelings pls don’t hesitate to let me know! 

✩ index here ✩

In his thirty years and some odd months of life, Mark had learned one unquestionable thing about himself.

He liked to be alone - in all senses of the word. 

In his experience, nothing good could come from allowing anyone past your emotional walls. If he was alone, he was safe. No one could hurt him without his permission. But he’d be lying if he said that having you around wasn’t like a sliver of sunshine peeking over those walls he’d built brick by brick. 

Milo loved you, and another thing he’d learned in all of his wise years was that if his dog liked you, then you were alright. The moment you walked through the door that first morning, Milo had been at your heels, sniffing and licking your shins affectionately. So, one point in your favor.

Mark slept in most mornings since he wasn’t needed at the shop until eleven, so by the time he woke up you’d been up for hours. You took it upon yourself to clean, organize, and revive the dullness of Mark’s apartment. Another point for you. 

You spent most evenings at the dingy diner you worked at until nearly midnight. When you came home, Mark’s usual spot was on the couch, with Milo on his chest and a de-stressing round of Overwatch on the TV. 

For the first few nights, you all but scurried past him to the bedroom to quickly change for bed and then he didn’t see you at all for the rest of the night. He could tell you were doing everything you could to practically be invisible - so different from the fiery girl that had rolled her eyes at him and called him an old man. 

“Y/N,” he called to you the next night when you arrived home from work. He caught you just before you went down the hallway. 

“Yeah?” you said meekly, turning on your heels to face him. 

Mark sat up further, arms holding Milo on his lap. Even your body language seemed like you wanted to disappear. Your arms were behind your back as you stood straight, hands clasped like a servant. 

“You know you don’t have to hide, right? You live here. You can watch TV or have a friend over, or whatever you want.” 

He could see the hesitation in your eyes, like you didn’t quite believe him. He just wanted you to feel at home; something unfortunate had clearly happened before you moved to Seoul. It wasn’t his place to pry or ask questions, but he wanted you to feel comfortable. 

“I… it’s okay, really.” You chewed at your lip, eyes on the floor. 

Mark sighed. “Y/N, just come sit and watch TV with me. No excuses.”

“I should really-”

Milo barked, high pitched and sudden. He was looking at you expectantly as if he was also joining in on the debate. 

“See?” Mark asked. “Milo wants you to hang out with us.”

Mark watched as your features softened bit by bit until you caved. “Okay. I just need to go shower and change, though.” You tugged at your plain black polo that you were forced to wear for work, a little baggy around your figure which made him wonder if the shirt was too big or if you’d lost weight. 

It wasn’t his business, not really, but he still felt this pull to you, towards taking care of you like your parents had done for him. They had saved his life and he’d always been so sure he would never be able to repay them - until now. 

Half an hour later, Mark looked up to find you coming out of your room, no longer in your stuffy uniform but in something more comfortable. Quite comfortable. A pair of shorts and a tank top that was loose on your shoulders, revealing your collarbone and smooth shoulders still glistening from your shower. 

“Hey, can you look at this?” you asked as you sat down next to him on the couch, angling your body so that he could see your tattoo. You slid the strap off your shoulder and pulled your damp hair to the side, revealing the intricate purple flower to him. 

Mark found his throat going a bit dry for some reason, seeing your bare skin like this, smelling the scent of your coconut shampoo. In his defense, it had been a long time since he’d seen this much skin in the flesh outside of the tattoo shop - female skin, to be specific. It was a shock to his system, that’s all. 

“It really itches. Is that normal? I can’t get a good look at it,” you told him, tucking your chin over your shoulder to look back at him. “I’ve been good with the ointment, I swear.”

Staring down at his own design, Mark brought a tentative hand up to your shoulder, tracing his index finger over the lines he’d created. It hadn’t healed completely yet, and it was beginning to shed the top layer, so he could still feel the ridges under the pad of his finger. 

“The itching is normal,” he said, after clearing his throat. “As the tissue heals, it’s trying to repair itself and prevent infection. So that causes itching, kind of like when you get a scab. If it continues for a few more days or starts to hurt, just tell me. It looks like it’s healing well, though.”

You nodded. Mark noticed you didn’t turn away yet, not until his eyes flicked up to meet yours. He had never been this close to you. Had you always had that freckle above your lip? And he’d never noticed the little scar above your eyebrow either, just a little nick that was probably from a tumble you’d taken as a child. 

And he realized with a start that you had been a child not so long ago. It may have been ten years ago, but he still vividly remembered your gangly limbs and braces from when you were twelve. You were Taehyung’s kid sister, and there was no good reason for him to be tracing over your shoulder and going dizzy from the smell of your shampoo. 

Milo saved the day, wedging himself between your bodies until he settled upon your lap, curling into a tiny fur ball. Mark laughed, grateful for the break in the tension. You giggled and sat back against the couch, cradling Milo in your arms. 

“So, what are we watching?”

— — —

And thus began a new routine. 

In the morning, you still woke up earlier than he did. You still made breakfast, except now you waited until just before Mark woke up so that he could start his day with the scent of eggs and bacon as it sizzled in the frying pan. And instead of leaving it on a plate to warm in the oven, you actually sat with him to eat. 

He learned a lot about you. There were still many blanks and question marks but slowly, you revealed little bits of yourself that almost made him feel like he knew you. Not kid you, real you. The woman you’d grown to be in the last several years. 

You were timid, as a whole, but he could see that part of you was slowly beginning to melt away. Once you warmed up to him, he found that you actually had a lot to say. 

Mostly about the food he ate. 

“Mark, that is not a lunch.”

You stood with your hands on your hips, watching with a frown as he grabbed a granola bar out of the pantry and tucked it under his arm along with the flimsy sandwich that he’d thrown together. He wasn’t picky, he just had simple tastes. When you grew up lucky to get two meals in your belly in a day, it made you realize food was just something to keep your body moving. 

“Huh? This is fine. It has nuts in it,” he told you, holding up the granola bar. “Nuts are healthy.”

By the way your lips pursed together, he could tell that you weren’t appeased by that. “At least take an apple with you, they’re fresh.”

Mark humored you at least, grabbing an apple before he was on his way. As he was grabbing his wallet and keys, he had to press his lips together to hide the half smile fighting its way onto his lips. 

— — —

You tried not to think about it. Really, you did. 

It was your day off, so after Mark left, you tackled your first load of laundry since moving in. It had been piling up ever since you were staying in the hostel, where half the laundry machines were almost always taken and the other half were out of order. 

Once you had thrown your clothes into the washer, you tidied up your room. It was a small room, one you suspected was actually meant for a child when the apartment was built - but it was enough for you. More than enough. 

It didn’t take long for you to clean up the room, putting away any clothes you hadn’t folded and put into your drawers just yet. It was silent in the apartment, leaving you only with your thoughts. 

You wondered what Mark was doing. It was nearing noon by now, and he’d mentioned he had two back to back appointments. It didn’t leave him with much time for a meal… not that he’d brought one with him, anyway. 

It wasn’t like you were doing anything. It wouldn’t hurt to throw something together for him quick, and run it down to the shop, would it? Honestly, it was the least you could do. He was allowing you to live in his apartment, rent free, not asking for a single thing in return. 

You found yourself in the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets to see what exactly he had on hand. Not much, you realized. From what you could tell, he lived mostly on take out and the occasional instant meal. Luckily, you found some vegetable broth and enough spices to scrounge together a stew. You’d bought some short ribs the other night, planning on making something delicious over the weekend as a thank you to Mark. 

You’d always loved cooking. Ever since you were a child, it was the one thing you could share with your mother. She wasn’t a cold woman, but she wasn’t one for many words. You never laid your head on her lap and confessed your worries while she played with your hair, or cried in her arms when you were upset. Instead, you cooked. 

If you came home from school, eyes wet with tears, your mother wouldn’t say a word - she would simply fire up the stove and list the ingredients for you to gather from the refrigerator. The only sound while you cooked besides that of the sizzling pans and bubbling broth was the humming - a soft, wordless tune that even now, you could hear in the back of your mind. 

You moved quickly, more confident in your steps than you had been in months. For just a moment, it felt like you were home again. 

— — —

Clutching the paper bag in your hands, you looked up when you heard the ‘ding’ of the bell above your head, signaling your entrance into the tattoo shop. It was noticeably more lively than it had been during your first visit - three young boys were sitting on the couch, flipping through a binder of tattoo designs and exclaiming over each one. 

In the back, you could hear the metallic buzz of a tattoo gun. Dahyun was at the counter with another customer, a girl your age deciding between several types of facial piercings. The former looked up as you entered, offering you a smile when she recognized you. 

“Ah, Y/N!” 

You returned her smile and gave a polite nod. “Hello,” you replied, unable to help but glance around, looking for Mark. It was as if he sensed your presence - no less than five seconds later, he was emerging from one of the rooms down the hallway and coming towards you. 

“Y/N?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

Mark ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He was in the same outfit you’d seen him in earlier, a black top and jeans with a blue flannel. Except now he’d taken the flannel off, revealing the toned, tattooed skin of his biceps underneath. 

You tore your eyes away from his muscular arms and stared up at him, swallowing the dryness from your mouth. “Hi.” 

“What’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin towards the bag in your hand. 

You had to glance down to remember what you’d brought with you. Sticking your arms out towards him, you pressed the bag into Mark’s chest. 

“Food,” you answered simply.

Mark rolled his eyes, though you noticed the smile tugging at his lips. “Ah, you really didn’t have to. I told you, I’m alright.” 

You huffed. “It’s real food, not granola or whatever greasy meal you were planning on ordering. Short rib soup. And rice.” 

Mark took the bag, unfolding the top to investigate its contents. He blinked a few times before looking up at you, an unfamiliar expression on his face. Almost like he was touched, but you couldn’t quite understand why. It was just food. 

“I was going to make it anyway, this weekend-” you started. 

“Thank you,” Mark told you, voice surprisingly sincere. It made you feel as if there was something in between the lines, something you couldn’t put your finger on. “Is it… your mom’s recipe?” 

He asked the question slowly, carefully. Mark was a smart man, you knew he’d picked up on the tension between yourself and your family, yet he never pushed. He avoided the topic, and never pried when you mentioned them off hand. 

You swallowed thickly, then nodded. “Yeah.” 

Mark’s face softened as he looked at you. Just as he took a step closer, Dahyun’s voice broke the bubble that had apparently been surrounding the two of you for the last few minutes. 

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” 

Dahyun was looking between the two of you with a very interested stare, a knowing smirk on her lips as she ignored the customer she’d been helping. 

“Nothing, why?” you asked, a bit hesitant. You were off work, and Yerin was pulling an extra shift at the restaurant tonight. She was your only friend, so it left your night wide open. 

“Well,” Dahyun said, leaning her chin upon her hand. “We were going to go bowling tonight with a couple of other people, and we need an even number. If you came, it’d be perfect. Yugyeom’s girlfriend bailed, something lame about a massive nursing exam tomorrow.” 

Mark sighed. “You really don’t have to - it’s fine.” 

“I’m really bad at bowling…” you said, already preparing your polite rejection. 

“So is everyone else,” Dahyun replied. “I mean, Mark’s good. And Jackson pretends he is. But mostly we just get drunk and make fun of ourselves.” 

Your instincts were telling you to say no. Your social circle, even at home, had been very small. Large group settings weren’t your thing, especially with strangers. But you’d decided as soon as you moved to the city that you would try every new thing you could. 

“You should come,” Mark offered. When you looked at him, he was chewing at his lip, but he offered you an encouraging smile nonetheless. “If only for the entertainment of watching Jackson lose his mind every time he bowls a gutter ball.” 

This was what you’d come here for. You’d left your life behind, everything you knew, so that you could live. You couldn’t do that if you refused to step outside of your comfort zone any time an opportunity presented itself. 

Besides, if you could get a tattoo, surely you could handle a little drunk bowling. 

“Okay,” you finally agreed. “I’ll be there.”