#lee almost had a heart attack | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yojeongin · 9 months ago

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it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l

→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo

genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au

synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)

wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

part 1 | part 2

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol

‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.

Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.

Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.

With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.

At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.

“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”

Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.

The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.

That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles.

“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.

When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them.

So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.

“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving.

Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh.

“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang.

It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.

“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”

Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout.

Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.

“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance.

He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.

You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.

The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.

You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.

Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself.

So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.

Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him.

“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work.

Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.

He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone.

“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed.

Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”

How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.

“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”

Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?

Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”

He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.

Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.

Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.

But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.

“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee.

Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.

Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.

“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle.

“Lunch with a special friend?”

“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”

He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.

The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.

“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.

The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.

Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.

“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.

One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.

He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.

“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation.

“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.

“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.

“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.

He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?”

His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there.

Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true.

The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd.

Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes.

‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’

A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right?

Hmm…

Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.

“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.

Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.

Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?

Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.

Pick up cleaners,

fix the leak in the kitchen

pick up order from cafe 7 dream

find a new car inspection place

pick up Venetia’s leave cake

Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.

Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?

Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?

God, no… he was being irrational again!

The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on.

Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake.

Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.

‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’

‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’

Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.

‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’

The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his.

He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife.

The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’

It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.

His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.

Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section.

His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.

Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.

Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.

In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.

The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.

He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.

At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.

His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.

Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.

“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”

It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.

“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”

Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.

He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.

The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.

You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.

Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters.

That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up.

He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.

That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.

That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.

You're not her...

Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.

“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers.

“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.”

Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do.

“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.

Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that.

“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember.

Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect.

“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?”

“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”

Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.

Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.

“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”

He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.

‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight.

A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?

No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.

But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?

Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.

“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine.

01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.

‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.

The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.

He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.

With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.

‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’ “What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.

‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘

00:59 at the time you began writing that.

He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.

He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.

Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you.

The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.

“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck.

Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically.

That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.

Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.

It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.

Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.

“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.

Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.

He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.

You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.

Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.

On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.

With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.

“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.

“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.

“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.

The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you.

His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.

Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.

Possession is the word he’s looking for.

His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them.

Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.

The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.

Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.

“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.

You believe me like a God,

‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.

I’ll destroy you like I am.

Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.

His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.

“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.

His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.

Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.

Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.

“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again.

Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.

His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.

“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.

In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.

“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.

“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.

“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.

To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.

The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.

To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.

Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.

Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.

“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.

With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.

But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.

After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.

Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.

Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.

It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.

“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while.

Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.

Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.

The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”

‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.

How selfish.

“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.

Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.

“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.

‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.

How selfish.

A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.

“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.

You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.

Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.

The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab.

Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity.

You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.

“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?”

“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.

“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.

‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained.

Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.

He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.

Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.

Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.

Misery loves company.

His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.

You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.

“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?”

“Please…”

You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you.

After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.

Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with.

By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.

He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.

Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.

All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.

Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…

‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’

Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.

Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.

Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.

He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.

For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either.

Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.

Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.

‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’

Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.

Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.

He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.

03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.

The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.

“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”

I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.

Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.

This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?

‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’

The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.

Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!

But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.

No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat.

He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace.

He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.

Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.

He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.

A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.

“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”

Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…

It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration.

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.

You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.

You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.

“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way.

“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.

You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.

“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes.

You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.

“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich.

Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.

“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”

Fuck.

“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so.

He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability.

“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.

“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.

‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.

Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.

Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?

Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.

“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator.

Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.

Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.

Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.

“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.”

Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.

“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”

A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.

Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.

He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.

It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.

Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.

He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.

Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.

Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.

No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.

The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.

“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat.

Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.

“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.

I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.

Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.

His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.

Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.

So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.

The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.

Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.

Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain.

Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.

Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?

He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.

Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”

It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).

Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.

“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.

“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…”

Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”

Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.

You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.

In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.

History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.

You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.

Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.

Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.

He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face.

And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.

The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.

He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.

The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.

Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.

You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.

His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?”

Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.

He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo.

There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.

If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.

“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.

He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?

I’ll betray you like a man.

Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.

“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”

Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.

The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood.

“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.

“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.

Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.

Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.

“I think we should take a break.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses.

“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”

You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be?

“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”

Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.

“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.

You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.

“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.

“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault. You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”

Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals.

Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.

You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.

“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed.

“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain.

"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down.

Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.

He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.

Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly.

“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.

With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.

He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.

‘Laboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’

Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.

You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.

if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !

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justwonder113 · 13 days ago

Text

Sharing a bed with Felix

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: What happens when you're having a panic attack in the middle of the library and the one to reach out for you and help you is actually a someone you kind of hate?

Warning: NOT PROOFREAD! (literally I can not stress this enough); cursing as always. The reader is gender neutral. The reader thinks Felix is fake and doesn't trust them. GRAPHIC DESCRIBTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND SELFHATE. Reader struggles with procrastination.

A/N- this is more platonic fic than romantic, but I will write a part two of this which will actually be romantic and more appropriate for the series name. I hope you'll like it. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated^^

Word count- 3.9k

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

You hated this. You hated how you had no control. You hated how everything slipped through your fingers. You hated how you always knew better but still always ended up making the same damn mistake. God you hated how you were stuck in this damn loop. How you had to deal with the same shit over and over again. You hated how only you were the to blame for it. You hated how you were having one of the most horrible mental breakdowns you have ever had now when you should be studying! You hated how you had almost no time to study. You hated how it was all your fault. You hated how you procrastinated doing your damn job till last minute as always. You hated how even your laptop stared at you, mocking you, reminding you how imperfect you were. God you really hated this.

Angrily wiping your tears, you tried to resume reading with keyword being trying. Your vision was so blurry you couldn’t even decipher a word, which frustrated you even further. You should have started studying earlier! Not just cram everything into your brain when the exam was literally two days away.

Why did you have to be this way? Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why did you always have to learn the hard way? Why couldn’t you learn from your mistakes? You knew you were better than that. You knew that you could be so much more. Why were you the one holding you back? Why couldn’t you get over yourself? Why couldn’t you just learn your lesson?

Taking a deep breath you started to read the sentence again. You have probably read this damn paragraph 15 times already, still you had no clue what was written there. Why couldn’t you just focus? You didn’t have time to waste damn it!

God this was so frustrating. You could hate yourself and how you functioned any time later, you would have all the time for it. Not now! This was just not the time!

Why was the screen so damn blurry! You couldn’t see shit like this! It was as if your vision line was getting narrower and narrower. Your heart clenched in pain as you took shallow breaths. You looked at your empty water bottle. You needed some water. Surely it would help you.

Standing up, your legs felt a little wobbly but you decided to push through it.

You needed to drink some water.

You were just panicking before an exam.

Nothing special.

Nothing to fret about.

You just needed to calm down.

Yes.

You just needed to drink some water.

Unable to walk more than two steps you crouched down. Your whole body felt like it was being crushed by something unimaginably heavy from every side. Like the room itself was closing in on you. You could hear muffled sounds coming from all around you but it was like you were in whole another universe.

You clutched your chest, your heart felt like it would burst any second now, you felt your own heartbeat in every part of your body beating so rapidly, you felt like giant drums were beating in your temples.

You didn’t know how to describe this but it was almost like your life was flashing before your eyes. If it was actually so, weren’t you supposed to see the best parts of your life? Some good memories, you would gladly relive again and again. Why were you seeing every moment of your life where you felt like an absolute failure. All the moments where you just simply hated yourself and your ways. And to make it worse every memory, every flashback felt like a stab to your heart. Like it was a physical reminder of how much you had failed in your life, how much of a failure you were.

Tears burned your eyes as you tried your best to hold them in, but quickly enough one of them escaped, quickly followed by another and soon enough you were crying uncontrollably. Your body trembling uncontrollably.

You hated this. You wanted this to stop. You needed to control yourself. This was no time and place to have a breakdown like this. You were afraid. You were terrified. You needed this to stop. You needed something to hold on to. Someone to hold you. You wanted to feel like you were not alone. Something, just something to gasp on to. You were afraid. So afraid…

“Here drink this.” You heard soft but deep voice and a gentle touch on your shoulder. You knew this voice.

Felix looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as he held in a water bottle for you as he kneeled down next to you.

Not feeling like the protesting you accepted it. Forcing yourself you took a few gulps. The cool water was refreshing.

“Drink some more, you will feel better.” Felix gently encouraged you.

You took few more gulps. You felt like throwing up but still forced yourself to drink it. Coldness of the water was actually somewhat helping you.

“That’s it, good job. You will be fine okay?” You heard Felix say. “You will get through this okay? I’m with you.” His voice was so kind, so gentle.

Wanting, no, needing something to anchor you down you grabbed onto his hand that he had on his knee. Without saying anything Felix interwened your fingers and held you just as tight as you were holding onto him.

“Breathe with me okay?” Felix encouraged you and started breathing deeply as if to guide you. Why was he even kind to you? You always made sure to avoid him and to just treat him coldly whenever you interreacted. He had no reason to help you.

As you tried to mirror him and take deep breaths memories of how coldly you treated him coldly flashed before you. As if you weren’t already feeling shitty enough you got hit by a wave of shame. Your inability to trust people had nothing to do with him. Whole reason you didn’t vibe with him and brushed him off whenever he tried to talk to you and get closer to you was because you just couldn’y believe a person could be this warm and kind. It just looked impossible to you. You always thought he was hiding something, that this was all just an act, that he was just deceiving everyone, so you kept your distance. And here you were now accepting help from him, clinging to him all pathetically. You just couldn’t control yourself, the only anchor for you right now was Felix. You actually felt like you could die if you let go of him.

Another wave of fresh tears covered your face, god you felt so bad that you were mean to him. “I’m sorry, I am so sorry!” You could hear yourself vail, but it was as if your own voice didn’t belong to you, it was as if it belong to someone else entirely.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about okay? This happens sometimes, I got you, you will get through it okay?” He gave you such a kind smile. You never really had noticed how beautiful he actually looked. Looking him like this, you could swear you could see a halo around him. God you had been so blind.

“No, no. I am sorry!” You took a deep breath. “I’ve been such a dick to you, you didn’t deserve that.” You sobbed out finally, clutching tightly onto him.

Felix looked at you for a second. “Okay I know now is not the time but since you’re the one who started talking about it…” Felix paused for a second looking unsure. “Why do you hate me?”

Hate him? No you could never hate him. He had nothing for you to hate him.

“I don’t hate you.”- you shook your head.

“Then why are you cold towards me? You’re so kind with everyone else.” Felix looked genuinely curious.

You shook your head again. You were feeling a bit more calm now but the fresh wave of embarrassment made you take a few steps back. You covered your face with your hands. “This is embarrassing.”

You felt Felix gently pat your shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to tell me.”

You sat in the silence for a minute or two. Felix never stopped patting your back gently, he also didn’t let go of your hand. You felt at peace with him, which is why it made you feel even more bad to hide the truth from him.

God you were acting so immature. You took a deep breath to give yourself more courage. “No, you deserve an explanation.” Pausing for a second you took another deep breath. “It’s just I have hard time trusting people. And seeing how you were always this ball of sunshine, how no one had anything bad to say about you and how everyone just loved you I thought that you were not a genuine person. I thougth that you were fake acting all sweet and kind. I just, I don’t know, I tend to avoid people I don’t or can’t trust. I should have been more civil about it though, or at least I should have given you a chance. I regret my decisions now, so I am sorry.”

The silence fell. God he must have thought you were dumb for hating him for such idiotic reason. It was quite ridiculous though, you realized that once you said it out loud.

The silence was soon overtaken by booming sound of his laughter. His whole body was shaking as he laughed wholeheartedly.

“Wait you’re telling me that you acted this way because you thought that I couldn’t just be kind and sweet so I had to be faking it?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe his ears. You didn’t expect this type of reaction but as long as he wasn’t mad or sad or anything similar?

“I know it’s ridiculous!” God you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Felix wiped his tear, his eyes shining on the dim light of the library. “It is. This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.” He looked at you for a second, his eyes full of mischief. ”It is quite cute though.” Seeing your head whip at him in shock Felix chuckled again. “I thought all this time that I made you upset about something! You know what I’m glad this is just a misunderstanding.”

“I feel embarrassed. This is so stupid!” You hid your face again.

“I mean it is silly but this could have happened to anyone. It’s no big deal really. Tell you this!” Felix let go of your hand and stood up. He held in his hand in front of you smiling sweetly. “Hey my name is Lee Yongbok Felix, I think you’re really cool want to be friends?”

You couldn’t really believe your ears. “Are you for real?”

“Oh definetly! I have had a friend crush on you since forever!”

“What’s a friend crush?”

“Oh you know like when you have a crush on someone you’re like want them to be your partner right? Well when you have a friend crush you’re like damn I want to be that person’s friend so bad!”

“So you’re saying you looked at me and thought damn I want to be that person’s friend so bad?”

“Yes.Pretty much so.”

“Damn I was right you’re not all that perfect! You’re actually quite crazy.”

“Meh who isn’t a bit mental. You were just having a panic attack for starters. By the way I’m glad you’re back to your senses.”

“Oh yeah, thanks. Also, foul joke.” To make your point across you glared at him

Felix grinned. “Get used to it, some say I’m quite a menace. So do you wanna be my friend?” He asked as if he didn’t just admit he was annoying.

God this was so unserious. “Yeah sure. I do!”

“Great! Now get up, let’s eat something. I’m starving!” Was he actually shining? The dude was maybe literal walking sunshine.

“You are quite straightforward.”

“You should also get used to that. Also the fact that I’m amazing! I just happened to order some takeout! I was about to tell you when I saw you on the floor.” God You couldn’t believe you just had a panic attack in the middle of library.

“Are we even allowed to eat in library?” You asked once you actually realized Felix said he had takeout.

Felix’s laugh was something of gremlins. “No, but lucky for us there’s no one to tell us anything.” – He sounded so proud it actually made you smile. But something was off what did he mean there was no one to tell you anything.

“Wait what do you mean?” What time even was it?

“It’s almost twelve. The library is closed.” You looked around, you two really were only ones around. You really outdid yourself huh.

“Wait we’re stuck here?” That was quite something to manage to do.

“Well no, because I have a key of this place.” Felix took them out of his hoodie pocket to show you large set of keys.

“How do you have a key to this place?”

“My friend works here, he was about to close up and wanted to let you know that you should go but you seemed so immersed in your work I told him that he should let you be. He gave me the key to close up. He lives nearby so I can give him keys later.”

“Why did you wait for me? Don’t you have to go home? You should have told me to wrap my shit up and go.” You really wondered what was reasoning behind his action.

“Now this is embarrassing.” Felix muttered, looking shy all of a sudden. He couldn’t even hold your gaze.

“Felix?”

“I got here because I love how quiet and peaceful it is here, Seungmin had been yapping about this book and I finally had the time to read it. I saw that you were here. I even thought I would come to say hi but you seemed immersed in your study. Then hours passed and you didn’t even get up and I got worried. My friend told me that he had to close up soon and before I even knew it I was asking him for his keys and promising I would lock up. I then ordered some takeout because you hadn’t eaten anything and I remembered how you were recommending this place to Minho earlier. So the food got here I got it, I was about to tell you to stop eating and then I saw that you were crying and well here we are now. I am yapping aren’t I? Does this make me sound like a stalker? I just wanted to do something nice.” Felix talked so fast you were amazed how he even managed to breathe between the words.

Trying to calm him down you placed your hands on Felix’s shoulder. “Thank you, for thinking about me. I don’t think you’re a stalker. I won’t say anything like that while you have the keys to this place and food! I have to be on your good side now more than ever don’t I?”

“You’re quite something huh.” - Felix groaned out, but he looked amused.

“Hey you’re the one crushing on me.” You couldn’t help yourself but tease.

“Okay I said friend crush!” Felix tried to defend himself but you didn’t let him.

“Tomato tomato, same shit.” It somewhat weirded you out for a second how comfortable you got with him this quickly but somehow you didn’t really mind.

“It’s not!” Felix pouted. Damn you sure like to tease.”

“You should get used to it. Also to the fact that I’m freaking awesome.” Before you could even realize you were smiling, without a care in the world. Like minutes ago you weren’t feeling like you were at your all time lowest.

“Come on oh the awesome one, let’s eat before the food get’s cold.”

The food was actually just what you needed. It immediately brough you sense of comfort. It was kind of funny, both of you were so hungry apparently that none of you said a word as you ate. The silence was comforting. It wasn’t the kind where one of you had to force yourselves to talk. It wasn’t suffocating. It felt just right.

“Are you feeling better?” Felix asked after a while.

Taking a deep breath you nodded. You should have known he would ask something eventually. “I am feeling better. I don’t know what came over me earlier.” God you felt embarrassed talking and overall recalling how you had a panic attack in the library. Thank god it was only you and Felix here and no one else saw this whole shitshow.

“You don’t have to talk about it, but I want you to know I’m here if you need someone to talk to okay?” Felix sounded so sincere, it really tugged on your heartstrings.

“I appreciate it.” – you said it and you actually meant it. It was good to hear that there was someone rooting for you and telling you could lean on them. But you still felt bad. “Sorry for misjudging you.”

“We’re good.” Felix smiled gently and turned towards you. “What do you think about getting something tasty later?” -His voice was cheerful and kind. How did he even manage to be so outgoing and welcoming? It was really beyond you. It did intrigue you. You were sure you could learn much from him.

“We just ate though, are you still hungry?” He sure had an appetite huh.

Felix chuckled and shook his head. “No no, I’m not hungry. I am suggesting you pick somewhere you want to go, or something specific you want to eat, so when you nail your exam we will have plans for our friend date along with a cause.” God he was ridiculous. He said it like it was such a matter of fact you couldn’t help but mirror his smile. But it still stung inside. Would you nail that exam though? You would be lucky if you didn’t fail.

“Hey stop that!” Felix’s voice brought you back to reality. Felix looked at you sternly. “You will do great on that exam. I am sure of it. Even if you don’t that’s not an end of the world. You can always retake it. BUT I am hundred percent sure you will do great.”

“I’m not sure Felix. I really slacked off. I should have started studying earlier. I don’t know if I will manage to go over all of the material in time. God it is stressing me so much! I really should get back to studying!” God you wasted so much time. How could you be reckless. You didn’t have time to waste. Every minute counted.

“No way! You need to rest!” Felix protested but you shook your head.

“I don’t have time to rest Felix.”

“Listen, there’s no way you can efficiently study without letting your brain rest once in a while. You spent hours studying. And I got here late, god knows how much time you spent with your laptop before I got here. You should get some sleep.” You hated how he was right. But even if you went to rest you weren’t sure if it even would you sleep.

You tried to say something but Felix didn’t let you. “No! You’re going home. I have to close up the library anyways!”

“Oh now you have to close up.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

Felix grinned triumphantly. “Convenient isn’t it?”

“Look at him having power of having library keys go up his head! You’re blinded by power Felix!” You grumbled as you walked towards your stuff. You could hear Felix laugh as he also gathered everything.

“More so, you should come with so I won’t do something drastic. You should control me.” Felix yelled over from over the other side of the room.

“Now that power will surely go over my head but since you’re asking me so nicely…”

“You’re a menace you know that right?”

“Proud one too.” Maybe you really should get some rest and resume in the morning.

***

You were woken up by a sound of buzzing. When did you even fall asleep? God you didn’t want to get up you felt so cozy. Why was waking up especially hard when you had to get up! Damn life was unfair sometimes.

You didn’t even remember how you got home. Or how you got to sleep.

Felix insisted to walk you home, because it was late. You invited him inside for a drink. You talked for a while. And then… That was blank.

Another buzz from a phone and your pillow shifted.

Well that was weird. Why did your pillow move? You sure as hell didn’t. Not to be dramatic but you would rather die right now than move.

“God, what time is it?” Sound of a groggy male voice sent shivers down your spine and not the good kind.

What the fuck?

You quickly got up to see that your pillow was actually Felix’s thigh. Felix looked just as confused as you were. You two were in your house, laying on your sofa. You were whining how you weren’t sure you would even be able to rest and you fell asleep on top of Felix? Damn you sure were something else.

“Felix?”

“That’s me?”

An awkward silence fell. You felt awkward, you had actually no idea what to do or to say.

“I guess we fell asleep.” Felix awkwardly chuckled. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy like this. I should have left the moment I made sure you got home safe.” Felix muttered sheepishly. He looked kind of cute with his hair sticking around in every direction, and him looking a bit dazed. You weren’t even going to talk about how hot his voice sounded. Was it weird to feel attracted to a friend you technically just made? He was objectively beautiful though, so maybe you weren’t in the wrong to appreciate his beauty. And your mind was spiraling again.

“No!” You quickly gathered yourself. “No, no. You did nothing wrong. I was the one who literally slept on you so I should be saying sorry.”

Felix quickly shook his head, looking defensive. “No, you don’t have to say sorry. I don’t mind physical touch. I’m quite clingy with my friends and since I consider you my friend I don’t mind it at all! I don’t want YOU to be uncomfortable.” God he was cute. You could barely restrain yourself from smiling.

“Actually, it was one of the few times I actually slept like a baby so maybe I should thank you instead. I really needed that rest, I feel refreshed.”

Felix grinned and for a second he really looked like a cat.“Told ya so.”

“Okay don’t get ahead of yourself now!” You scolded as you watched him chuckle. He was quite ridiculous and somewhat even weird but you actually looked quite forward to being friends with him.

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tosomeonessomeone · 11 days ago

Text

Such a tease

words・ 1.6k /pairings・ Lee Know x reader / genres・ not for kids babe / warnings・ sexy time girl

Request by my lovely anon 🐈‍⬛✨

The first time Minho invited you to one of his dance practices, you didn’t think much of it. He’d mentioned it casually, as if it were no big deal. “You should come watch me practice sometime,” he’d said, his voice light but his eyes holding a glimmer of something deeper. You’d agreed, of course. How could you say no to him? Minho had a way of making even the simplest requests sound irresistible.

But now, as you sat on the floor of the dance studio, your back pressed against the cool mirrored wall, you were starting to realize just how dangerous this was. The room was alive with energy, the bass from the speakers reverberating through your chest, and Minho—*Minho*—was at the center of it all.

He moved like a force of nature, his body bending and flowing to the rhythm of the music in ways that felt almost otherworldly. His black t-shirt clung to his torso, damp with sweat, and his grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, teasing just enough to make your imagination run wild. Every flick of his wrist, every roll of his hips, every sharp turn of his head felt like a personal attack on your sanity. You were supposed to be watching him *dance*, not fantasizing about how those same movements might feel in a far more private setting.

But you weren’t the only one watching. A group of girls had gathered near the door, whispering and giggling as they ogled him. Your jaw tightened as you caught one of them fanning herself dramatically. *Really?* You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy bubbling in your chest. It wasn’t like you could blame them—Minho was a masterpiece in motion—but still, you couldn’t help the way your stomach twisted.

As if sensing your irritation, Minho’s eyes flicked to yours mid-spin, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew. Of course he knew. He always did. The music slowed, and he finished the routine with a final, deliberate roll of his hips, his gaze never leaving yours. The room erupted into applause, but you barely heard it. All you could focus on was the way he was walking toward you, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

“Enjoying the show?” he teased, crouching down in front of you. His voice was low, a little breathless, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re showing off,” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. The way his sweat glistened under the studio lights was *not* helping your resolve.

He chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Maybe a little. But I think someone’s been staring a little too hard.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Jealous?”

“No,” you lied, looking away. “I just don’t like the way those girls are looking at you.”

Minho’s smirk widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You don’t have to worry about them. They’re not the one I’m dancing for.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you turned to face him, only to find his lips dangerously close to yours. “Oh yeah? Who are you dancing for, then?”

“You,” he said simply, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Always you.”

Before you could respond, he stood, offering you his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

You didn’t argue. How could you? He led you out of the studio, his grip firm but gentle, and the cool evening air hit your skin as you stepped outside. The walk to his apartment was a blur, your mind still replaying the way he’d moved, the way he’d looked at you. By the time you reached his door, your heart was pounding, and you weren’t sure if it was from the walk or the way he was looking at you now.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Minho pinned you against it, his hands caging you in. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours, “you’re the only one who gets to see me like this. The real me.”

“Like what?” you breathed, your hands finding their way to his waist.

“Sweaty. Messy. Yours.” His voice was rough, and it sent a thrill through you. “And if you ever forget that, I’ll just have to remind you.”

You smirked, your hands sliding up his chest. “Is that supposed to impress me?” you teased, though your racing heartbeat betrayed your calm exterior.

He chuckled, low and deep, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, I’ll impress you,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “But first, I need to make sure you remember who you belong to.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours, the kiss hot and demanding. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made your knees weak. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your chests heaving as you stared at each other. “You talk a big game,” you said, your voice shaky but still teasing. “But can you back it up?”

Minho’s eyes darkened, and a slow smirk spread across his face. “Oh, I’ll back it up,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But you’re going to have to keep up.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you further into the apartment. His lips found yours again, hungry and insistent, and you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he walked. When he finally set you down, it was on the edge of his bed, and he knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs.

“Let’s see if you can handle me,” he said, his voice teasing but filled with promise.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “I think I can handle you just fine.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and then his hands were sliding up your legs, pushing your skirt higher. His touch was electric, sending sparks shooting through your veins, and when his lips brushed against the inside of your thigh, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that escaped your lips.

“Minho—” you started, but he cut you off with a look, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice firm but playful. “I’ve got you.”

His hands moved with purpose, sliding up your thighs and pushing your skirt higher until it was bunched around your waist. His lips followed the path his hands had taken, leaving a trail of kisses that made your breath hitch. When his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, you couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped your lips.

“Minho,” you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair. “You’re such a tease.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin. “You love it,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “Admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, though the effect was ruined by the way your body arched into his touch. “Maybe,” you said, your voice shaky. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

He smirked, his eyes locking onto yours as he leaned in closer. “Too late,” he said, his breath hot against your skin. “But don’t worry—I’ll make it worth your while.”

And then his lips were on you again, his tongue flicking against the sensitive spot that made your back arch off the bed. You gasped, your hands flying to the sheets as you gripped them tightly, trying to ground yourself. But it was no use—Minho was relentless, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to drive you to the edge.

“Minho—” you started, but your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers joined the party, teasing and stroking in a way that made your vision blur. “Oh my god.”

He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his eyes dark with desire but filled with a playful glint. “You were saying?” he asked, his voice teasing.

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the way your body trembled under his touch. “You’re impossible,” you said, your voice breathless.

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and then he was kissing you again, his lips moving against yours in a way that made your head spin. When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your chests heaving as you stared at each other.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he said, his voice rough but filled with admiration. “But I think I can do better.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you tightly as he flipped you over, your back pressing against the mattress. His lips found yours again, hungry and insistent, and you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your chests heaving as you stared at each other. “You were saying?” he asked, his voice teasing but filled with promise.

You laughed, the sound rich and warm, and then you were pulling him closer, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that left you both dizzy. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a reminder—a challenge—and you were more than ready to rise to it.

#skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #lee minho stray kids #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee know #lee know imagines #lee know stray kids #lee know x reader #stray kids minho #straykids #Spotify

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mingtinys · 10 months ago

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" i'm not stopping until you smile "

pairing : lee seokmin x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

a/n :still not sure how i feel about the ending on this one

Sometimes it feels like the universe is actively out to get you. Like for some reason, whatever Gods above have chosen you as the perfect target for their cruel jokes as a cure for their boredom.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, had.

Your coffee spilled first thing in the morning, scorching your skin and ruining your uniform. The back left tire of your car was flat, forcing you to take the morning train. Which you missed due to your coffee incident. Work was hectic, your boss on your ass about anything and everything, and for some reason, every customer came in with a personal vendetta against you and you alone. And to top it all off, some creep wouldn't stop making comments at you on the train back home.

You're so desperate to just curl up in bed and hide from the world that you forgo the thought of dinner or cleaning like you had planned all together.

For what feels like hours, you lay there. Until the sun falls in the sky and your room fades into darkness. Unwilling to move even an inch to flip a light on or check your phone. Your apartment stays dead silent. Eventually, you hear the front door open and shut, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching closer. They pause just outside your bedroom door.

"Baby, are you in there?" Comes a voice, one so soft you nearly burst into tears from the sound of it alone. "I'm coming in, okay?"

The knob turns and in comes Seokmin, illuminated by a halo of light that pours in from the hallway. He takes one look at you and frowns. "Are you okay?" He asks, setting your spare key and his phone on your dresser before sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I got really worried when you weren't answering after work," he continues. "What happened?"

"It's fine, Seok," you sigh, already feeling like a burden on him. "But it's been a long day and I just really want to handle it alone, okay? I'm sorry you came all the way here."

He just stares at you, sad eyes searching your face for some type of answer. You feel like you've just kicked a puppy asking him to leave, but it's best this way. Seokmin's heart is far too soft, ready to soak up every ounce of negative emotion it can for him to bear the weight of. And you hate seeing Seokmin sad.

"You don't have to handle it alone though, that's what I'm here for." You really wish you could return his cheery optimism and put him at ease, but instead, you simply turn in your cocoon so you won't have to face his disappointed expression. Yet somehow, that doesn't deter him.

Whereas anyone else probably would've up and left by now, Seokmin simply scoops you up into his arms, blankets and all. He starts pressing wet, sloppy kisses all over your face before you can voice a single protest. Even when you attempt to hide from the barrage of affection in his chest he doesn't let up.

"Seokmin!" You whine, palms coming up to shield your face. He just laughs and easily pulls your wrists away, looping them behind his neck before pressing two more pecks to each cheek. Seokmin leans back to examine your face.

"I'm not stopping until you smile."

"I appreciate you trying but–"

Yet another merciless attack befalls your face, this time with exaggerated mwuahs for good measure. Though every few kisses, Seokmin mutters small, sincere 'I love yous' that begin to chip away at the walls you'd so desperately tried to construct.

So when your boyfriend finally pulls back for a second time he begins to beam with pride at the lopsided smile ghosting your lips. "There it is," he coos, softly lifting your chin with his thumb. "Now tell me, what almost stole my favorite sight in this world from me?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

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slut4hee · 2 months ago

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Slut4Hee 2025 WIPS

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Nevertheless Series

{Paring: Toxic Lee Heeseung x Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, fluff, angst, toxic relationships. This fic is inspired, by one of my favorite kdramas, called nevertheless. It’s about heartbreak, love, lust, and companionship. 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: Lee Heeseung was like breath of fresh poisonous air to your healthy lungs. He was the fire that ignited your flame, the missing piece to your unfinished puzzle. Lee Heeseung, was also the one who destroyed you, the one who clipped your beautiful wings off your body, and shattered your whole innocent being. But still you remained attached to him, drawn in by his dark aura, and blinded by his charming and enchanting presence. You got it bad, but nevertheless…

{Warnings: explicit themes, alcohol consumption, smoking, rough sex, unprotected sex, big dick heeseung soft dom heeseung, sub reader, creampie, breeding kink, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), spanking, corruption, manipulation, love bombing jealousy, cheating (but not really cheating?), Heeseung is hella toxic and a jerk in the beginning, reader is very emotional and down bad for this man, Heeseung has a butterfly tattoo on the back of his neck, lmk if I missed anything!!!

꩜ .ᐟ Teaser

You held onto your chest, feeling your heart beating rapidly. You feel like the air has been stolen from out of your lungs, and you physically can’t breathe, the pain is so unbearable and excruciating.

You should have known sooner or later that you weren’t the only one, but still, your fucked up head told you otherwise. You watched as their lips moved sensually, his hands gripping her waist, and squeezing the fatty flesh.

Tears slowly start to steam down your face, and you can feel yourself going into a panic attack, as the girl lets out a quiet moan, as he sucks on the flesh of her neck. You start to hyperventilate, feeling yourself drifting into the void of darkness, your chest feels tight, your head is pounding and your legs feel weak.

Your body is frozen as you watch, his hands explore her body sinfully, and he whispers to her “you’re a beautiful butterfly” you feel sick to your stomach, as your heart pleads with you to tear it out. That’s what he always called you, his little butterfly, his muse. You can’t take it anymore, you need to get out of here, before you die of a broken heart.

A part of you wonders, if he was to find your lifeless body laying here, with a tear drop running down your cheek before it dries up, would he even care. Would he laugh at your pathetic self, or would he cry and beg for you to wake back up.

And that’s when it happens, your eyes locked with his, his facial expression is unreadable, but you know exactly what’s hidden behind those stone cold eyes of his. He smirks at you, before pulling away from the girl, telling her he’s had enough for tonight.

The girl tries everything in her power, to keep the session going, throwing herself shamelessly at him to spend the night with her. He declines her offer politely, kissing her forehead before he stepped away from her. Almost like the girl was hypnotized or in a trance, she nodded, before kissing him one last time goodbye and taking her leave.

Gaining control over your body, you hurried and hid yourself further into the staircase, watching as the smiling girl walked passed you. There’s a hickey clear as day on the right side of her neck, you can hear your heart shattering into pieces.

You peaked from the side of staircase, immediately making eye contact with Heeseung. It was almost like he spoke to you, without actually exchanging words, as you managed to pull yourself away from hiding and made your way over to him. You looked up at him with tears still in your eyes, your body trembling as you stare deep into his dark orbs.

He can see the hurt and pain radiating from your body, but it does nothing to affect him, instead he just smiles at you and wipe the tear that threatens to fall from your waterline. All you want to do is slap the fuck out of him, and tell how much of a fuckboy he is, but you don’t have it in you to even lay a finger on his beautiful face.

“She just wanted to see how it feels” he looked into your eyes, staring into your soul, as he ghosted his lips against yours. You held back a sob, as you turned away from him, stepping away and looking down at the ground. He slowly walked over to you, and hugged you from the back.

“I really wanted to try it with you, my muse” he hummed, turning your body back around to face him. You looked at him with an unreadable, expression falling into the trap of his alluring voice.

He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, before leaning down, and pulling you into a soft sensual kiss. You were so disgusted with yourself, for letting him kiss you, after his lips was just on another girl. Like a million butterflies erupting inside your stomach, you once again have given yourself willingly to Lee Heeseung.

“𝙉𝙤 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮, 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡, 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙤“....

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Land Of The Riches

{Paring: Rich Top Student Kim Leehan x Scholarship Student Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, college au, private school au, fluff, toxic relationship, fwb?? Rich kid things, 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: Stepping into a world, you knew you didn’t belong to was something you really didn’t participate doing. The flashy earrings and watches accompanied by the students, and the all black luxury cars, pulling up in front of the school with chauffeurs present in the front seat of them. Truth is, you didn’t come from a rich background, in fact your parents could never afford to pay for you to go here out of pocket, but your high IQ and your excellent grades landed you a full on scholarship spot at New Winchester University. Fitting in was going to be a hell of a challenge, but it seems you are already making progress, since the star student Leehan has taken a liking to you.

{Warnings: explicit themes, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, squirting, face sitting, mutual masturbation, sexual acts in public (they fuck in the library, and Leehan fingers reader in class), dirty talk, pet names, bullying, manipulation, corruption kink, cheating, (no I don’t condone cheating so pls hush it’s all fictional love), Leehan is preppy cocky rich mf, alcohol consumption, smoking, lmk if I missed anything!!!

꩜ .ᐟ Teaser

“Fuuuck that’s it doll, suck that fucking cock like you mean it” Leehan grunted, his hand holding your head in place, while his other hand holds his phone up as he record you sucking him off. You don’t know how you managed to find yourself, in this situation with your head between Leehan’s legs, doing unholy things to him.

Wait in fact you do, it all started with him staring at you in class, studying you, and hypnotizing you with his enchanting and flirtatious aura. Not long after, the boy convinced you to skip class with him, asking you to have a smoke with him.

You made it clear to him you didn’t smoke, but he insisted you come with him, and that you could just accompany him. And that’s how you ended up here, with Leehan abusing your throat, with his long thick length.

“Holy shit princess, I knew you would be so good at this. Look at me baby” he groaned when your eyes locked with his and then the camera. Your eyes widened at the realization, that he was recording you. You pulled off his dick and covered your face quickly.

“W-why are you recording me, please turn it off” you stuttered out, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He chucked lowly, grabbing your chin, and wiping some of the drool and his pre cum that drips on the side of your mouth.

“Oh C’mon baby girl, I swear I won’t show anyone, matter of fact, I pinky promise” he pouted cutely at you, caressing your chin lovingly as he manipulates you into giving him what he wants. Of course you ended up giving in. Not being able to resist his puppy dog face and menacing attics.

“Fine, just p-please don’t show anyone, please don’t” you pleaded with him, his eyes lit up and a smirk appeared on his handsome face. You felt your heart skip a beat at his stupid beautiful smile, easily falling into his trap. You grabbed his throbbing cock, pumping it a couple of times, before taking back inside your wet mouth.

“Oooh my fucking goddd, damnit that feels so good slut” he whined, bucking his hips up, causing you to gag around his dick. He groaned deeply, pushing your head roughly as he fucked into your mouth desperately. He stuggled to keep ahold of his phone, his legs trembling and shaking as he chased his high.

“F-fuck Y/n, I’m so close, you gonna be a good little whore and let me cum in your mouth right?” He cooed as he caressed your cheek lovingly. You clenched around nothing, your thighs rubbing together, as your panties became sticky with your leaking arousal Leehan noticed that and chuckled lowly.

Suddenly his phone ringed, pausing the recording, he groaned in frustration and rolled his eyes as he went to answer it. You panicked, about to pull away but he glared at you, giving you stern look as he shock his head no at you. Your eyes widened at the realization that he wants you to keep sucking him while he talks on the phone.

“Hey baby what’s up” he answered, rolling his yes at the loud girl over the phone. Your felt a churn in your stomach, at the fact that he’s talking on the phone with who you believe to be Yu Karina, aka his 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇𝙁𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙉𝘿!!!

You hear the girl on the other end, pouting and acting babyish, as she complains to Leehan for being late to their ice cream date. Some sick part of you, enjoys the fact that Karina is waiting for Leehan to show up to their date, meanwhile you’re sucking the life out of him. Truth is Karina has bullied you since day one, calling you an outsider, poor, and a pathetic nerd.

Your lips turned into a smirk, at the thought of Karina, finding out her so called perfect little boyfriend is currently getting mind blowing head from this so called nerd.

“I’m sorry baby girl, I had some important things to deal with, I’ll be there soon” he said in a sweet and apologetic tone, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his false claims, which didn’t go unnoticed by Leehan, him thrusting his length deeper inside your throat causing you to gag.

You heard Karina on the other line, asking him if he’s okay and what was that sound. He quickly comes up with a bullshit lie, saying that he drank something nasty and spat it out.

You decided to test the waters, sucking on his cock a little faster, and fondling his heavy balls. Leehan threw his head back, choking back a deep moan before harshly biting his bottom lip to conceal his sounds.

“S-sweetheart, I have to call you back, I’m in the middle of something” he stuttered, his composure dropping slowly, as he tried his hardest not to shoot his load deep inside your throat. He quickly hung up the phone, before grabbing your head roughly, and pushing it all the way down before fucking aggressively into your mouth.

“You fucking slut, you almost got me fucking caught. You’re that damn desperate for my cock that you have to show the fuck out” he spat angrily at you, but a shit eating grin was plastered across his face. You whimpered, and gagged around his dick, as tapped and scratched on his thighs for him to slow down.

“What’s wrong darling, can’t breathe because you have a mouth full of cock” he chuckled menacingly at you, before yanking your blouse open, some of the buttons flying across the bathroom stall.

“𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙖𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙩. 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥”....

A/n: Yup that’s right, slut4hee is making her return back to tumblr world🤭 these are some projects yall can look forward starting next year. As I stated before I am a very slow writer and I’m a very busy person, I work full time and go to school🙂‍↕️ but teehee I’m so excited to release these works next year, especially the Leehan one bc wtff I’m so down bad for dom Leehan like pussy is soaked rn do you hear me?! But please please look forward to these some time next year pookies mwah luv u all🫶🏽🩷 not proofreading shit😭

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Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @jooniesbears-blog

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strrykais · 2 months ago

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(❤︎) love shot

sometimes the best feeling is the way his mouth moves against you, and other times.. its the taste of sweet sweet revenge.

cw: fingering, oral (fem receiving), drugging, bondage, foot on crotch, mentions of death, gangs mentioned, revenge, age gap if you squint (its legal like 6-10yrs idk dont think too hard about it ! just putting here to be safe!) not proof read! wc: 1.5k

requested: Idea to distract you: the reader tying Seungmin, Han, Lee Know or I.N. to a chair for sexy times and they absolutely just melt under the readers attention.

「 authors note 」 took this and definitely deviated from their plot... and i'm very proud of it.. let me know your thoughts.. for more click here !

minho almost had a heart attack when he walked into the living room to see you sitting in the dark. you have been waiting for him to come home for hours now only thinking he wouldn't be gone for so long.

"jesus baby, you scared me. why are you sitting in the dark?" minho reached for the light switch, turning it on to see your pouting face.

"you are late babe. where the hell have you been?" you say crossing one leg over the other, the gown you wear sliding down your thigh. minho couldn't help but glance down. you knew his one true weakness was your thighs. He could spend hours in between them and that is exactly where you planned to have him tonight. if only he wasn't so late.

"i know baby, but the boss needed me and you know how demanding they are." He takes off his jacket and throws it over the couch walking to you. He places his hands on either side of the chair, trapping you in.

"you should really leave that gang. it's only gonna lead you to an unfortunate end." you reach out to caress his cheek as he leans into your touch.

"don't say that baby, plus i can't exactly say my girlfriend wants me home before 11. if anybody knew about you, you cou-"

"yes min i know, i could be seriously hurt. but it would be great to you know see you more than once every two weeks." you say leaning back into the armrest. minho takes this opportunity to lean in and press a kiss into your lips. you open your mouth letting him deepen the kiss as you are melting into it.

minho places both hands on your cheeks, running them down your arms and firmly placing them on your thighs. You sigh into his lips as he gently separates your crossed legs, gently pulling you down as he detaches himself for you taking in your appearance.

Your blushed cheeks, your puffy lips, your gown slipping off one shoulder, minho loved that he had this effect on you. He never got tired of seeing how needy you begged for him and tonight was gonna be no different. He places a kiss on your temple, then gets down on his knees right between your legs.

You watch as he pushes your legs further apart, the gown slowly riding up. He takes notice of you not wearing any underwear and lets out a soft groan.

“Not wearing any panties? Since when did you become such a dirty girl.” squishing the meat of your thighs, rubbing his hands all over your legs but never rubbing the place you needed him to.

“I can’t help it when you look so good.” hips lifting trying to get him to touch you, to relieve the ache.

Minho lets out a breathy laugh at the way he completely had you under his spell. He usually loved to tease you, but the way you looked was so pretty he just needed to taste you. Minho glides his fingers through your folds gathering up your wetness, pressing onto your clit giving it a pinch between his fingers.

You moan at the feeling, getting lost in the way he was playing you like a fiddle. Minho did a lot of bad things in the field he worked but one thing he was good at was making you reach completion with his hands and mouth every time.

He removes his fingers from your clit replacing them with his mouth, alternating between sucking and licking. You were completely unraveling at the way his mouth was devouring you. Its like he was a man starving and you are his next meal.

Minho inserts two fingers into your wet hole, not giving you time to adjust as he presses against your walls in the spot he knows will make you lose your mind. Your moans were music to his ears, which only fueled him more as his fingers thrust in and out. Minho was a man on a mission he wanted, no he needed to make you come into his mouth. He sucked harder, pressed harder, thrusting harder. It didn't take long before you clenched your thighs around minhos head squeezing hard.

“I'm gonna cum. Fuck baby please don’t stop. Dont stop.” you moan out, one hand gripping the armrest and the other lying to his hair pulling hard as you start to grind down on his face. You let out a loud moan as your legs shake, cumming in his mouth.

Minho groans still deep in your pussy, fingers still helping you ride out your high. His mouth licks up your orgasm. He falls back on his heels admiring his work.

“Open up baby.” he guides his fingers into your mouth as you suck harshly, licking his fingers clean of your orgasm. He groans as your warm tongue wraps around them. He pulls out his fingers, your mouth making a popping noise as he pulls out.

“Fuck your mouth is so warm. Wanna be a good girl and let me use it.”

“Yes, if you let me have some fun now.” you say glancing up at him. He groans at the way your eyes are glossed over completely willingly to suck him off.

“Fuck baby do whatever you want, as long as you continue to look at me like that.” you smile nodding your head as you help him undo a few buttons. You kiss him, fully wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. You giggle out as he grabs a handful of your ass.

“You gotta trust me okay?” you say as you pull away from him, switching sides with him and pushing him down on the chair. He furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you walk away returning with a glass of liquid and red rope.

“You are not tying me up.” he shakes his head in disbelief, in awe that you would even be into this, so dominating, minho has always been the dominant one in the relationship so he was quite confused about why you never brought it up.

“Baby, please. Just one time, that's all I ask.” you twirl the rope around, extending out the drink. “Here, this will calm your nerves.” you smile at his face. He looked at you skeptically, sighing, you brought the glass to your lips, but he stopped you before you could.

“Okay give me the drink, it better be vodka.” you nod your head handing him the glass as he downs it in a gulp. Placing the glass on the table beside the chair.

“Don't worry baby, I'll be gentle.” you go to work on tying him to the chair, starting with his arms and then going down to his legs. Minhos heart was racing, he had never been so submissive to a woman before this was new to him. He watched as you made sure the knots were tight almost like you have practiced for this very moment.

Once you are satisfied with your work you step back grabbing minho’s chin forcing him to look up at you. “Gosh it's almost a shame it has to end this way.” you softly say, voice losing its loving tone. Making your way to the radio, putting on some music.

Minho was starting to worry about the way you were staring at him. Before minho can ask what you meant, you tied something around his mouth to get him to be quiet. Minho pulls against his restraints realizing that you have tied him tightly, and he has no way of getting out. Minho watched as you made your way back to him pulling up a chair to sit across from him.

“You know we have been seeing each other for 3 months and you still haven’t recognized me minho.” you watch the sheer panic in his eyes trying to make sense of what you are saying. “Of course you don’t, I was only a child when we first met.” you extend your leg, pressing firmly on his crotch. Minho groans as the pain, mind becoming fuzzy, he was starting to lose control of his body, he feels like he was drunk, he couldn’t fight back against the tight hold of the ropes.

“You took something very important to me, and when I finally found you, I knew what had to be done. Who would've thought someone as pretty as you would be so dumb.” you watch as minho head fights to stay up right. You take your foot off of him, pulling his hair so his eyes were looking straight into yours.

“Don’t worry I'm not gonna kill you, but your boss might. You see he found me and stopped me from killing you on the spot, made me an offer I couldn't refuse. All I had to do was get you all drugged up and weak and I would be set for life. Your boss is a scary man.. But he seems to hate you more than I do. Something about playing both sides? Minho people don’t like snitches.” the ringing of a phone breaks your attention from him, letting him go, head fully flopping over.

“He’s yours. Come on up.” with one last glance to minho, completely unconscious in the chair, you grab your coat from the rack, walking out, never looking back.

permanent taglist: @hyunestrella @spicy-sawdust @charlieg1rl @gnabnahcbby @totheseok @mystverse @jisungs-iced-americano @kimseungminpabo @bookswillfindyouaway @puppy-minnie @katchowbbie @night-storm7 @auroratiseee @goldenmellow @sellomaybe @embrr0-0 @skysole

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brighteuphony · 10 months ago

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Some reunions, like Naruto and Lee, are filled with happy hugs and warm welcomes.

Others...not so much.

Ino and Sakura's reunion...yeah it doesn't go great.

Sakura had been invited back into her mother's estranged family after her accident, but on the way through Tea Country, the caravan had been attacked by bandits/dissidents and Sakura ended up jumping into a river to save herself.

Her body was never found, and she was considered dead. She has an empty grave right beside her mother's and father's in Konoha.

Ino, Naruto and Lee were devastated. Ino, in particular, was inconsolable. She'd just made up with her friend and they'd been struggling to find footing after Sakura's accident, so to get the news of her death crushed Ino.

She'd felt so guilty, fighting over stupid things like boys, all the dumb insults they'd leveled at each other, and her helplessness at Sakura's condition ate at her for a long time. Ino threw herself into the job and she left flowers at Sakura's grave every Sunday for a year (and her parents did it for her when she was on missions) before finally beginning to heal.

To learn that Sakura was alive the entire time, that she didn't care enough to send Ino a single letter...that she just let Ino go through all that heart-wrenching grief is a betrayal that Ino can't suffer. It's like having that wound, only just now scarring over, be torn open and salted.

She spent a year mired in grief, and the next three trying to mend the hole Sakura's death left in her life. And to have all of that history, friendship and grief disrespected... Ino doesn't talk to Sakura for almost 7 months.

As for Sakura, she was in such a depression after her accident, she managed to convince herself that she didn't matter to any of her old friends (especially because it was so awkward and difficult to find common footing with everyone after being honorably discharged). So she made the mistake of assuming no one cared, almost as a method of protecting herself from the consequences of her own decisions.

This bites her in the ass, ofc.

Eventually, they enter a 'cold but civil' relationship when Sakura makes a sincere, heartfelt (and groveling) apology. After that, the walls come down, but their friendship won't ever take the same form as it did before, but maybe that's for the better.

Their new friendship is much stronger.

Once again, thank you so much to everyone for all the amazing asks and the incredibly kind words about this AU!

@evaregia

#naruto #haruno sakura #ino #ino yamanaka #coven!sakura #as if a simple apology is going to erase the YEARS of grief sakura come on girlie #youd be shocked at how people dont like being lied to #especially about things like...u know...ur DEATH #Sakura did have her head up her own ass here for a bit #and absolutely deserved to get rocked for it #also i made the skip 4 years because no one can stop me

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hwangism143 · 10 months ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 nicknames. 𓆩♡𓆪

maknae line.

bang chan.

when you woke up from bed, you noticed a bang chan-shaped depression right beside you. a giggle escaped your mouth as your brain recounted all the fun you had last night trying to beat chan in monoply.

yes, you had only been dating for two months, but this relationship felt real. it felt like something. you were confident in saying that you saw a future with him. you walked into the kitchen where you chan preparing breakfast. he handed you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it, with a sleepy smile.

"so, i've been thinking and," chan started, "would like it if i call you a nickname in your native language?"

you nearly choked on your coffee. "like it? chan, that is the sweetest thing ever."

he grinned at you, "good, cuz i have been doing a lot of research." he swooped down, kissing the top of your head and melting your heart along with it.

lee minho.

"i have a problem."

minho startled you, uttering those four words as soon as he stepped through the door. you were watching tv, curled up on the sofa with a blanket and dori, munching on popcorn and waiting for minho's arrival.

"what's wrong?"

"it's you." minho watched your face morph into confusion and worry and he quickly explained, "not exactly. since we're dating, i need to come up with a cute nickname for you. hyunjin said that jagiya is not cute enough."

at that, you start to laugh. "babe, does he even know why you call me jagiya? as a matter of fact, i'm curious too."

minho begins blushing, the tips of his ears turning red. "oh, um, as a nickname, it reminds me of home. and you're, well, home."

you let out a squeal and begin attacking minho with kisses and for once, he doesn't protest.

seo changbin.

"no. i will not give up."

you let out a weary sigh. "binnie, it's been hours."

changbin is sitting on a bar stool and you are sprawled across the sofa, dangling upside down. for the past two hours, you and changbin had been deciding on what terms of endearment to use on each other.

unlike changbin being extremely undecisive, you had almost immediately decided what you would call him. your bunny boy! this was probably an extremely boring way to spend your six-month anniversary to outsiders, but it was (comically) important to changbin and if it was important to him, it was important to you.

"i'm sorry for boring you, princess," he said sadly. suddenly, his eyes widened. you got up instantly, making eye contact with him, breaking out into a smile.

"that's it!"

hwang hyunjin.

you and hyunjin laid down on the mat you placed on the grass, gazing at the stars. or at least, you were gazing at the stars. hyunjin's eyes only looked at you.

"what's your favorite term of endearment?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence you were in.

"hm," you contemplated it for a minute, "probably love. there is something just so romantic about calling someone you love, love. it's almost as if you're making it known to the world that they personify your version of love."

hyunjin nodded in agreement, "or that the exemplify the love that they have to give."

you turned to look at him. his face was drawn in concentration, clearly very focused on the topic at hand. "but," he began, "it's ambiguous, isn't it? you can call anyone love, regardless of the type of love."

you hummed at his words, turning them over in your head. "well then, what would you prefer?" you questioned him, curious to hear the thoughts in his head.

"something my-adjacent," he replied, "my love. my muse. my world."

he cupped your cheeks in his hand looking at you with stars in his eyes.

"my everything."

#stray kids #skz #lee know #chan #changbin #hyunjin #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff #bang chan fluff #changbin fluff #hyunjin fluff #- via's fics <3

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daydreams-after-dark · 10 months ago

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Show Mommy

Synopsis: Lee Know dressed as Aunt Lina was doing things to you as you watched him on set. But what happens when you are invited to an after party and accidentally end up in Lee Know's room, and he's still in costume?

NSFW // 18+ MINORS DNI for the love of god.

Features: female reader x cross dressing aunty lino

Word count: 4.4k

This link though

nsfw warnings below.

Kinks and warnings: Mummy kink (Lee Know is referred to as Mummy), choking on cock (cutting off air supply), Edging, Light Dom/Sub, Pet names (Mummy, babygirl, kitten etc), Name calling (slut, whore), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (m rec), cross dressing, vaginal fingering, creampie.

a/n: This story was born out of an ask from friend @noellllslut She was after Lee Know dressed as Aunt Lino who fucks reader's brains out. It was originally posted on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams but the themes fit the feel of this blog. So it now resides over here. Please welcome it make it feel at home 😘

Lee Know couldn’t help but notice the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him while he was on was the SKZ Family set. So he deliberately slouched back in his seat, spreading his legs unashamedly under the silk skirt he wore as part of his Aunty Lino costume. He knew what it was doing to you. You tried your hardest to look away, but your eyes kept returning to him, alternating between gazing at his beautiful dolled up face and wig, to almost drooling as you stared at his crotch. You knew what was underneath that dress, although you’d never seen it or experienced it first hand.

Lee Know had seen you around a few times now. You were the newest staff member of the catering service that sometimes provided refreshments and food to the group. You stood out like a sore thumb, actually, with your eyes wide, starstruck. You’d never been in such close proximity to idols before.

Lee Know thought you looked cute. He liked that you seemed flustered around him and the other members. But he also noticed that you didn’t seem to ever really be looking at them, but rather your gaze was always on him. Your stare made him feel flushed. Luckily the blush make up could hide the fact there was also a natural shade of pink burning on his skin.

You were looking at him almost shamelessly towards the end of filming. That’s why he kept opening his legs to sit “unladylike”. That’s why he raised his voice, bellowing angrily, confusing you with the alluring mix of feminine and masculine. That’s why he dared to glance right back at you whenever he looked around the room. He wanted to send you a message; that he knew you were watching him, and he wanted you to know that he was enjoying it.

You felt like you would certainly have a heart attack if he looked at you one more time. The way he sat back in the chair, feet planted far apart made you want to fucking straddle him then and there. He was taunting you with brief glances, and eventually outright stares. You felt an ache in your core and a wetness forming between your legs. Thank fuck this was almost over and you could pack up and leave.

“Hey!” Your colleague caught your attention. “Turns out they want to stay dressed up to go to the holiday house to have a party. Apparently you’re invited!” He exclaimed. “Maybe you could take all the spare food there. Come and help me pack and up and you can drive it over there now and set up.”

Well there goes going home. Wait. What? They invited you? You felt anxiety rising inside your chest.

“Here, let me help.” You turned towards the voice that broke your thoughts. Fucking Lee Know.

“Oh—“ you choked. “Um… it’s fine. Really.” You managed to say. He was standing awfully close to you. He wasn’t a lot taller than you were, and so you got a perfect close up view of his gorgeous face. His pretty almond eyes framed by the hair of the chestnut brown wig. How the hell were you going to survive the night? Both your nerves and horny levels were through the roof.

“I insist, kitten. Let’s get the lids on these, and I’ll help carry them out to the car.” He smiled kindly. Who were you to deny him? You were told by your boss when you started this job to do anything the idols want. If they want to help you, then you had to let them.

You felt his eyes on you as he followed you out to your car, hoping he wasn’t looking at your ass.

“So, I’ll be seeing you at the party tonight, yeah?” He asked closing the car boot and turning to lean on it.

“Well I have to be there - all the food is in my car now.” You chuckled like an idiot, then looked down at your feet.

Lee Know simply smirked at you. “You’re an interesting little kitty.” He continued to smirk whilst he’s eyes turned dark. How were you meant to respond to that?

“Well,” He suddenly stood tall as if snapping out of his thoughts, and walked around to the driver’s side of the car, opening the door for you. “Drive safely.” He said as you slid into the seat. You rolled your eyes “Yes Mum.” You mocked like you were an unamused teenager responding to an overprotective parent.

Lee Know’s energy shifted. “What did you just call me?” His tone was one of amusement, but there was something behind his eyes. Something devious. He leaned down in the doorway, one hand resting on the open door, the other on the side of the car, his curtain of “hair” framing his pretty face in the most elegant way.

“I said: Yes, Mummy.” You repeated condescendingly and locked eyes on him. Fuck he made you feel nervous, but you weren’t going to let on. Something inside you was enjoying being a little bratty.

“Hmm.” He said standing back up and closing the car door and walking back inside without another word.

You pulled up at the holiday house, knowing that you would have arrived there before the members. That gave you time to fumble around your car for your emergency “going out bag” - ready with a little black dress, a hairbrush and makeup - and then took the left over food up to the house in two trips. A staff member let you in so you could set up. You took a deep breath as you surveyed the food. Yep everything looked fine.

Your next priority was changing into your dress so you went in search of a bathroom to get changed and touch up your makeup. You didn’t want to take up the common bathroom, so you went looking for an ensuite off of a bedroom. It didn’t take long to find one that seemed suitable. The far bedroom down the hall. You’d be out of the way in this room. No one would stumble upon you there. You closed the bedroom door and went into the the bathroom, peeling off your black slacks and black blouse, realising you weren’t wearing an appropriate bra for the dress you had brought. Fuck it. You had nice tits though, so you decided to go bra-less. Your dress was a black mini dress, super tight (it’ll hold those puppies in), that zipped up the entire front - from the hem to the neckline. It was probably too much for the occasion. It was more a clubbing dress, not a hang out with some idols at a casual house party type of dress. But it was either that or your work clothes. You glanced down at the discarded slacks and blouse and then back up to your reflection. Nope! The dress it is.

Next you added some heavier eyeshadow and a tonne of mascara. Finally, a slick of red lipstick. You weren’t planning to impress anyone, right? You just needed to match the makeup to the dress.

You could hear loud music thumping, and muffled boisterous voices through the walls. The boys must have arrived.

You looked yourself over in the vanity mirror one final time. Okay. You’ve got this. You don’t actually have to speak to him. It’s okay. You reassured yourself. Just chat to someone else. Maybe Han. Or Felix. They seem safe.

You pepped yourself up, took a deep breath and opened the door to go back into the bedroom.

Your heart almost jumped out of your body and out of the window. Actually, you wanted to throw your entire body out of the window.

Lee Know. Sitting on the end of the bed. Directly facing you. Legs fucking spread. Still in Aunty-fucking-Lino mode.

His mouth was parted slightly. He was taken aback by what he saw. But he recovered quickly and you didn’t notice because you were too busy having some sort of panic attack. “W-what are you doing in here?” You asked timidly.

Lee know chuckled. “This is my room for the night. I wasn’t expecting a visitor waiting for me.”

“Oh!” Was all that came out of your mouth and your hand flew to your chest, clasping at the zipper, ensuring you were properly dressed. The way he was looking at you made you feel naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

“I’m really sorry.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’ll be out of your way.” Of all the rooms you chose to change in, it had to be Lee Know’s.

You lowered your head and nervously made a beeline for the door. The sooner you removed yourself from the situation the better.

You reached for the door handle, but a hand landed on the door, next to your head, preventing you from opening it. Preventing you from leaving. Trapping you. A rustle of fabric grazed the back of your bare legs, making you freeze. Lee Know’s warm breath on your neck caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs.

But there was something else happening too. Despite your nerves. Despite this situation being inappropriate and unprofessional. Despite your oftentimes timid nature, you were curious. It was almost like there was a little devil on your shoulder, a little voice that made your insides itch to torment Lee Know.

“What’s the matter? Doesn’t Mummy want to let me out of the house dressed like this?” You boldly teased.

Lee Know pressed his erection into your ass, startling you. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath his dress, his hard cock bouncing freely against you made that perfectly clear. You laughed condescendingly and continued to torment. “Afraid some boys will ruin my honour? Steal my innocence, hmm?”

Lee know growled and spun you around and pushed you against the door.

“There won’t be anything for those boys to ruin once I let you leave this room.” He sneered low and deadly, staring into your eyes.

His gaze dropped to your zipper. You held your breath. He won’t. Surely. He took his thumb and forefinger and grasped the toggle. Oh fuck he is going to. He unzipped your dress all the way, causing it to pop open and your bare tits to spill out, exposing you to the man in front of you.

Your hands automatically came to cover your breasts, a red hot flush overtaking your body.

“Tsk tsk, little one.” He soothed, taking a hand to yours and peeling it slowly away from your chest. “You need to show Mummy what you’re hiding.” He said softly. As you let him remove your hands, his eyes hungrily roamed your almost naked body. You held your breath as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. A pained expression on his face.

“What else have you been keeping secret?’ He leaned his mouth against your neck, making you shudder.

“N-nothing.” Your voice trembled. Lee Know’s energy felt so intoxicating.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” His voice deep in your ear, his fingers resting on your hips.

“I-I’m not.” You repeat he dug his fingers hard into your flesh.

“I’m going to have to check for myself, then.” He whispered. He slid his hand all the way down your body and slipped a finger between your lips, exploring, checking. You closed your eyes. You knew you were absolutely soaked. There was no way to deny it.

“I knew it. You were hiding something from Mummy, after all.” He smirked. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier. Yet you said you weren’t hiding anything from me.” He shoved a finger into your pussy without warning, making you cry out and throw your head back.

“I’m sorry.” You panted. You were alarmed at the wet noises that were already coming from your cunt as Lee Know started to finger fuck you.

“Sorry who?” He snarled.

“Ahh… Sorry, Mummy.” You cried.

“Sorry for what?” He demanded, thrusting into your spongy wall.

“Sorry I was hiding it.” You said, whimpering now.

“Hiding what.” Oh god you were almost there already.

“That I want you to fuck me.” Your hand flung over you mouth. What the fuck did you just say? How did he just get you to say that?

“Why do you want Mummy to fuck you?” There was genuine curiosity behind is eyes. His fingers stilled inside you while he waited for your to respond.

“Because you’re just so pretty…and soft. Delicate, even. Makes me want to taste your lips.” You whimper, almost in tears because he had stopped fingering you when you were so close to climaxing.

“Let me make it clear, I’m far from pretty, or soft, or delicate.” Minho spat and raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He didn’t like that you thought he was soft. You needed to be taught just how punishing, brutal, satisfying he could be. He smashed down hard on your mouth. His sticky lip gloss mixing with your bright red lipstick.

His tongue pushed it’s way into your mouth and you took it willingly, letting it explore your own tongue, taking up space inside your mouth. His kiss letting you know how much he wanted to be inside your body, and what it felt like to have him possess you.

You pulled away. “You’re wrong, Mummy. I bet your cock’s pretty… ” You whispered.

“On your knees. Now.” He growled. “Mummy needs to punish you for hiding things.”

You immediately sunk to your knees and Lee Know pulled your dress off completely, leaving you on in just your tiny purple, soaking, satin thong. You were shaking with anticipation and arousal as your fingers gripped the hem of his skirt. You slowly gathered the delicate fabric, lifting it up… up… up. Slowly revealing his strong, toned thighs. You gulped. You were almost there. Almost at the top of his legs. Just another inch, and there it was. The most mouthwatering cock you had ever seen. Your eyes widened.

The sight was positively obscene. He looked so soft and delicate in his wig, makeup and layers of pretty fabric. But underneath his skirt he was rock hard, veins bulging, pre-cum oozing from the tip. His angry erection eager and ready to tear up a pussy or a mouth. Your mouth. Right now.

Lee know took the skirt from your hands, bunching it up and holding it behind his back so that his view of you wasn’t obstructed. His other hand rested above you on the door.

You kept your eyes on him as you slowly dragged your fingernails up his thighs, noticing his eyes close momentarily as he shuddered through an exhale. He was trying to hide the anticipation and pure lust that ran through his veins. You wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, pointing it towards you. You leaned in and kissed the tip then smeared the pre-cum over your lips. “Fuck, baby girl. Stop teasing.” He panted when your tongue poked out and licked the tip. Despite your cunt begging you to throw him on the bed and demand he fuck the living shit out of you, you wanted to take your time pleasuring him with your mouth. Lee Know stayed as still as possible, using all his willpower not tear up your throat with his cock as you continued to take it slow.

You licked his shaft from base to tip, you tongue exploring the ridges of his veins that ran along the length. You lifted his cock towards his stomach so you could take his balls in your mouth, suckling them, humming on them. “F-fuckkk!” Lee Know hissed. You could feel his legs shake slightly, faltering just the slightest bit. And then you wrapped your lips around the head of his dick and sunk down as far as you could in one fluid motion. Lee Know whimpered and you purred at how good it felt to have him in your mouth.

You sped up your movements as your head bobbed up and down along his cock, taking more and more of him into the back of your throat. Saliva began to drip down your hand that was working the remaining length you couldn’t quite take. You wanted to take him entirely and tears sprang from your eyes as you gagged around him. “So fucking perfect…mmmm….so slutty…..slutty little girl just wants cock, hmm? So pretty, so dirty with Mummy’s cock rammed down her throat.” Filthy words spilled from his mouth.

Looking down at you endearingly, he reached down and grasped your jaw, forcing it open in the most careful and gentle way. You locked eyes on him as he slowly withdrew his cock, holding your jaw still, sighing as more and more of it emerged from your mouth dripping in saliva. He was almost the whole way out, and your cunt clenched in anticipation to be filled, but Lee Know simply sunk back into your mouth again with a low groan. He pushed himself all the way in, pressing the back of your head towards him as he pushed his hips forward. You couldn’t breath for a good thirty seconds. Then he eased out enough for you to take a breath. You had to be quick though, because he was back down your throat without warning.

Tears ran down your face as your air supply was repeatedly cut off, but never longer than you could handle. The head of his cock making you gag, causing your eyes to water even more.

“So messy for me.” Lee know murmured, smearing your mascara further down your cheek with his thumb. “You look like a little slut, the way you take all of me in like that.” Lee know started fuck your face faster now, your hands gripping onto his perfect dancer’s thighs so you wouldn’t get knocked backwards. Not that you really could be knocked backwards with his hand holding you so firmly against his pelvis on every thrust.

All you could think about was how much you needed this cock inside another hole. Any of them. All of them! You wanted Lee Know to fill you up in every way.

“Fuck! You feel so good. Such a good fucking girl.” He grunted. Good girl. Oh god you needed him to fuck you. You were more than ready. You reached down to your drenched panties, pushing the fabric aside and started to rub your clit frantically. You needed the release. You needed to fucking come!

Lee know pulled your head back by your hair, pulling his cock out of your mouth. “On the bed right fucking now.” He demanded, pulling you up and pushing you down on the bed. “Head down, ass up. Let me get a good look at you.” He gripped one of your ass cheek, the jiggle eliciting a low growl from him. “If you turn your head the other way you’ll be in for a treat.” He whispered peeling your panties down your thighs.

You lifted your mascara stained cheek off the mattress and turned to rest your other cheek on the bed. You were staring directly into a full length mirror, and you were just in time to watch Lee Know approach you from behind.

With one hand holding his skirt out of the way and the other around his length, he lined himself up to your slick entrance, but didn’t penetrate you just yet. He teased you a moment longer by dragging his tip through your dripping lips from the entrance to your clit. Your legs were already trembling from the sheer desperation of needing to be speared by his cock. And you could see it all unfolding in the reflection of the mirror. The moment Lee know’s hips pushed forward. The moment the tip pushed passed your entrance making you gasp at both the visual and the actual sensation of him stretching you open. You saw the furrowed brow and then the look of relief on his face as he sunk further into your cunt. You saw him flick his long hair over his shoulder and then grip your hip as he began to thrust into you fully.

“So tight… your cunt feels so fucking tight.” He mumbled, losing himself immediately.

“Am I wet, Mummy?” You choked. You caught him smirk at your desperation for praise.

“Mmm… absolutely fucking soaking… listen carefully you can hear it… “

You could hear the squelching sounds filling the room but you wanted him to tell you. You wanted to hear him say dirty things.

“Is this what you wanted? Mummy to stuff your pussy full of cock?” He quickened his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting you deep inside. “Answer me.” Me growled and slapped a hand down on your ass. You cried out at the sting. “Yes, M-mummy.” Lee Know slapped you again. “That’s it, you can scream… no one’s gonna hear you. No one will come and help you.” His words made your walls clench, the thought of being trapped in the room where no one could hear your screams, where Lee Know could do anything he desired, made the tension in you core tighten. You were going to come any moment.

“Fuck, your cunt is sucking me in… greedy, tight, little…grr.” He propped a foot up on the bed next to your leg to get a different, a deeper, angle. His deep, hard, brutal thrusts slamming directly against your cervix. Over and over and… “Fuckkk!!! Mummmy!!!! Ahhhh.” You cried out at full volume as you involuntarily clenched and relaxed around Lee Know’s cock. Your entire body convulsed and shook with what was easily one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. Especially when your clitoris was practically untouched. After you came down, Lee Know pulled out abruptly and you collapsed on the bed, still shaking. You rolled onto your back and looked up at Lee Know, expecting him to be depositing his load on your body. But instead, you found him trying to calm his breath and slow his heart. His cock was screaming for release, but it seemed he didn’t want to come just yet. “Lee Know, let me take care of you.” You sat up, reaching for him.

He shook his head. “No, sweet kitten. Just give me a sec.” He panted as though he was in pain, and you were confused. He climbed up on the bed and laid on his back, his head resting on the pillows.

He reached out for you with his hand. “Come ride me…please.” He ushered you over to him, desperation on his face. He had just fucking edged himself.

You kicked off your panties entirely and climbed up to straddle him. He looked a mess. His wig slightly askew, his own mascara running down his cheeks, your red lipstick smeared across his lower lip. He looked perfectly fucked up. You bit on your lower lip as you sank over his cock, drawing a sharp a hiss from his mouth. “So tight.” He mumbled under his breath. “So fucking wet.” He closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the pillow. His hands found purchase on your hips as you rolled your them, grinding against him. You moved slowly, your clit pressing against his hard lower abdomen.

“Open your eyes, Mummy. Look at me. Watch me. Am I doing good?” You purred. Lee Know opened his eyes. They were blown out, hazy with lust and the need to climax. Yet there was also a kindness and a softness to them.

“You’re doing so good, little one. So fucking perfect.” He smiled. “I need you to make Mummy come now. Good girl. Yes like that.” He praised you as you moved a little faster. Lee Know’s cock filled you so well. Stretching you perfectly. Touching the deepest parts of you. “You really do have a pretty cock, you know? Need you to fill me up with your cum now. Need it deep inside my pussy.” You were losing yourself as well as another orgasm was building. You looked down at the man underneath you, reaching down and playing with the little tie on his jacket and then reaching up to cup his cheek. He pulled you down onto him, taking your mouth with his, finding your tongue, climbing inside of you. Possessing you completely.

Something inside him snapped, and with his hands digging into your hips he began to pound into you brutally from underneath you. Loud whimpers jolting out of you from the force behind his hips. He brought a thumb to your clit, circling it as he knocked the breath out of you time and time again. “Come with me.” It wasn’t quite a demand, it was more of a plea.

“Come in me. Fill me up…please.” You plead in return as your orgasm hit. Electricity shot through your body and out your fingers and toes, and you clamped down hard around Lee know’s cock. “Oh fucking Go—” you cried at the top of your lungs.

“Fuckkkk!!!” Lee know growled as hips hips faltered and you felt his hot seed spurt deep inside of you. His orgasm seemed to last an eternity, and you knew there was so much cum, you could feel it coating your insides. It was already starting to leak out around the base of his cock.

After a few moments you pulled off him, flinging yourself on the bed next to him. You were both still panting, trying to catch your breath. Trying to process what had just happened.

“Fuck that was amazing!” Lee Know stated. “I didn’t expect to be so into that.”

You rolled onto your side and looked at him. “What, the Mummy thing or the cross dressing?” you asked.

“Both.” He suddenly looked nervous. You leaned down and kissed him slow and deep. “Me either.” You admitted.

“Hey,” he pushed a strand of hair out of your face. “Let’s go take a shower, and then I’ll show you what Daddy can do to you.” He whispered deviously.

@noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @channieandhisgoonsquad @queenmea604

#lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #aunt lino #sorshas fic

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star-sim · 1 year ago

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your lips, my lips, apocalypse ☆ heeseung lee

☆ non-idol! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: sex, love, and romance tasted like poison on your tongue, a secret that you held close to yourself for years. unfortunately, when heeseung kisses you, he, too, could taste that poison. ☆ genre: hurt/comfort, angst, veeery suggestive but no smut, implied college! au, unclear relationship status but can be viewed as friends to lovers ☆ warning(s)? implied s*xual abuse, hypersexuality as a coping mechanism, if youre not comfy with these topics don't read! ☆ word count: 2.0k ☆ atp im just writing my entire playlist... based off of apocalypse by cigarettes after sex <3

Heeseung should have known the moment that your first instinct was to lower your head in shame and unbutton your shirt, revealing your lacy undergarments and bare skin, because you thought your then-boyfriend was angry at you.

He should have seen the signs when you had no problem shoving your tongue down every team captain's throat for everyone to see, but danced around the topic of sex, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you clutched onto his sleeve.

He should have noticed the way you changed, how you slowly showed more and more skin, yet said less and less, shrinking into yourself whenever a pair of eyes glazed over you, almost like you were afraid.

But most of all, Heeseung should have known the moment that you attacked him with your lips, hungrily kissing him like a starved hyena.

He hated himself for realizing so late into the night.

There the two of you were, sprawled across your bed. You had your back flat against the soft, white sheets, your bare skin so pretty under the warm light. Heeseung, shirtless in his own right, hovered over you, admiring you.

Both of you were breathless, lips swollen and eyes blown out as you ached for each other, spending the last hour teasing each other.

What started as a calm night with his dear friend became an impromptu makeout session, that then became the two of you half naked in your bedroom.

The first sign should have been how you faltered at Heeseung's mindless mention of his love-life, the way your expression pinched briefly. You let out a few sad words, yet your tone was so happy that Heeseung didn't notice the way your brows furrowed, sinking your teeth into your lips pensively.

The second sign should have been the cloudy glaze over your eyes the moment Heeseung's hand accidentally brushed up against your thigh, and more importantly, the way your eyes were glued to his hand as he pulled it away, a small "sorry"falling from his lips.

The third sign was the way that you paused for a moment, giving him a confused look after you crawled on top of him, your lips attached to his neck. Heeseung's hand ghosted over your hips and waist, asking breathlessly, "Can I touch you here?"

This should have been the nail in the coffin, the way you looked so quizzical just because he asked permission to touch you.

But now as Heeseung pinned you under him, his large, doe eyes gazing down at yours, he felt his heart pound. You looked so beautiful. The sight of you under him was something that he could only dream of, but now that you were right in front of him, Heeseung felt dizzy.

All these years, he'd been waiting for his moment— to be so close and intimate with you, you who he never really escaped from.

Heeseung could feel the warmth of your skin against his, the feeling being so delicious that he wanted to bask in it forever.

As his long fingers slithered down to the hem of your panties, dipping into them, Heeseung watched your face.

Your head was thrown back, gazing up at him like he was a god. Your pretty lips were wet and parted, sucking in sharp breaths and letting out small sighs as Heeseung worked on you.

But what made Heeseung falter was the look in your eye.

He'd always known you to be bright-eyed; it was within your eyes that he could see the universe unfold before him, without a single speck of dust obstructing it.

But this time, your eyes told something different.

Earlier, they were filled with excitement and desire. But now, they were dull; storm clouds shrouded the sky that was your eyes, shedding a murky and foggy cast that was so dark that it bled onto the rest of your face.

Heeseung was no stranger to your past.

It was no secret that you had many sexual partners, almost to the point of being rumored to be a 'whore' or 'slut.'

Heeseung didn't know for sure, but he was perceptive enough to understand the link between the older boy that you dated for years in high school who was known for preying on younger girls, and your transition into being more sexually-charged. He had a feeling that your sudden change into being more sexual had something to do with the predatory nature of your relationship back then.

All this time, you'd told him that you were okay, that you'd moved on and did things because you wanted to do it, that you were no longer haunted by the memory of your sexually abusive ex-boyfriend from when you were seventeen years old.

But Heeseung could read you better than he knew.

From your eyes, he could tell that you were desperate.

Not desperate for sexual gratification or pleasure.

Not desperate to be touched.

Not desperate to be satiated by some sort of sexual hunger.

No, you were desperate to be healed, desperate to be held.

Of course. You were turning to sex to fix your problems. You were finding value in relationships and yourself through sex.

You didn't want to have sex with him.

Slowly, Heeseung removed his hands from you, pulling up your panties and getting up to find your shirt. Without a word, he slipped your shirt back onto you, his hand fixing your disheveled hair.

Sensing that something was wrong, you gently grabbed his face, pressing your lips against his. For a second, Heeseung forgot everything, only relishing in the way that your lips felt. His body was begging him to relieve him of his desire. Atlas wanted you. Oh, he wanted you so bad. He wanted you selfishly.

But Heeseung wasn’t going to have sex with someone that didn’t want it.

“No,” he mumbled against your lips as he tried to pull away. “[Name]-”

You only pulled him closer by the shoulders, squeezing them. Your lips were now crashing against his aggressively and with a passion that felt artificial. “[N-Name],” he tried to pull away. “No.”

“I just—” you said in-between kisses, “I just really want you.”

Heeseung could have easily pushed you away, given your strength difference. But he refused to hurt you. With a firm jerk, he was able to get himself free of your grip.

"I can't do this with you," was all he said.

You looked like you were about to cry. Heeseung felt a pang in his chest, but all he did was shake his head. Heeseung silently got off of you, finding his pants on the floor and slipping back into them. He went to your bathroom to get a warm wet cloth to clean your wet thighs up, his hands gently grasping your skin as if you'd fall apart if he was too rough.

Just as Heeseung was about to throw the towel into your hamper, you grasped onto his bicep, digging your nails into it. You looked up at him with tearful eyes, your brows knit together as you began to sniffle.

"I-I'm sorry," you whimpered. "Did I do something wrong? A-Are you mad at me?"

Heeseung immediately tossed the wet cloth aside somewhere on your bedroom floor.

"What are you talking about?" He wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head to your chest, feeling your tears stain his bare chest. When Heeseung pecked your forehead, you wailed even harder, your arms coming up to pull him closer to you, holding him like he'd save you. "Why would I be mad at you?

"W-Why don't you want to h-have sex with me then?" you shakily choked out. "Am I— Am I not good enough?"

"No," Heeseung's eyebrows crashed together, his eyes narrowing. His words were serious, but his voice was soft, as soft as a feather for your delicate ears. "I could tell that you didn't want it, Baby. I would never get mad at you for that. I hope you know that."

The sound of your sobs must have been the worst thing that Heeseung had ever heard in his life. He didn't like it one bit. Those hot tears were tiny droplets of all the pain and abuse that you've suffered from.

"I'm s-sorry," you whimpered. "I-I'm s-sorry."

What did they do to you? What have they done to you that you apologized so much?

Heeseung clenched his fists. His chest burned with a different type of anger, an anger that was so great that it was overwhelming, eating Heeseung alive and chewing him into dust. He'd kill them, he'd kill the son of the bitch that hurt you so much like this with his bare hands.

"Fuck," Heeseung cursed under his breath. In a single movement, Heeseung hoisted the both of you up, so that you were on top of him, your head rested on his chest. As tears spilled from your eyes, clinging to Heeseung, he petted your head.

Heeseung was warm, warm in a way that you couldn’t describe. You wanted to fall into him, let your eyelids flutter down peacefully, and relish in what was his essence.

You felt apologies prickle the tip of your tongue. After all, other than letting others use your body, saying sorry was the only other thing you knew how to do. You felt weak, helpless, like a wet dog at the mercy of its owner, yet you felt more sorry for Heeseung, who was now stuck with you.

“S-Sorry—“

“Shhh,” Heeseung whispered into your ear. “Don’t apologize, Baby.”

“But—“

Heeseung hushed you.

When your breath didn’t slow, in fact speeding up to the point that you were huffing in quick breaths and pushing out even shallower ones from your chest, Heeseung grabbed your hands.

It felt like the entire world was crashing down into your shoulders, hitting you all at once. Everything hurt, your body was trembling yet you couldn’t feel anything. You should be okay, right? After every one-night stand or sexual partner that inevitably used you like a doll, you were always left alone and cold. You experienced this exactly, and you’ve dealt with it every time alone. You can do it again, right? If you’ve been alone all this time, you can deal with it this time alone, too—

“Hey.”

Heeseung’s voice forced you out of your head.

“Hey,” he repeated, rubbing circles on your back. “Breathe.”

You swallowed down the sob that threatened to spill out. “I’m o-okay.”

“You aren’t,” he said simply. “I know you aren’t.”

You shook your head, pulling away from him. You wanted to shrink back into his warmth, to be sucked back into the paradise that was the comfort that was Heeseung, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You were scared.

Why would he want to be around you? Why would he even want to have a burden of a person like you to hold? You were a mess, a wreck that had too many problems to count. You were unlovable, broken, fragmented and with missing parts because of all the men that have robbed you of your identity, your autonomy, your ability to love, and—

To your surprise, Heeseung simply pulled you back in. His hands gently slinked to your wrists, pulling you back into him. Your mind told you to run away and hide, but instinctively, you melted into him.

“Let me take care of you,” Heeseung said. His voice was calm, light on your ears in a way that made your heart ache. He took your hand again, squeezing it. “I don’t care what you say, I’m not leaving you.”

“Please d-don’t,” you whispered back, so softly that your voice was barely audible. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” was all Heeseung said. “You can count on it. I won’t.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen angst #enhypen drabbles #heeseung lee #heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung imagines #heeseung enhypen #heeseung fic #lee heeseung #heeseung angst #heeseung smut

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gyorouis · 7 months ago

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𐙚 EVER SEEN.

— "every piece of me, holds parts of you. it feels much better when i'm with you."

genre: fluff (tooth rotting per se), attempt on crack ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ), just reader and soobin admiring e/o.

pairing: ldr bf!soobin x afab!reader

warning: none (except maybe some cringe stuff for fluff)

wordcount: 4.6k

now playing: beabadoobee — ever seen ୨ৎ

the glow of the computer screen was the only light in the room, casting a soft blue hue over the messy gaming desk, and half-empty snack bags. you had spent countless hours in this very spot, headphones on, mic ready, waiting for that familiar notification: “dia_soobie314 has joined the game.”

you and soobin had met a year ago in the most unexpected way. what started as a casual gaming session turned into nightly marathons, then into a friendship, and eventually, something much deeper. the two of you were a team, a dynamic duo in every game you played. but somewhere between the virtual battles and late-night strategy talks, started a deeper connection beyond the screen.

it all began in a game of league of legends. you were having a particularly rough match, teammates bickering, and everyone blaming each other for the impending loss. just as you were about to give up, one of your team mates joined the voice chat.

“hey, let’s turn this around. i’ve got a plan,” the voice of a man said, his voice calm and confident. he’s playing lee sin, you’ve been watching his moves earlier and you can’t deny that he’s got the moves, he’s good at doing combos. you read his gaming name: “dia_soobie314”.

skeptical but desperate, you decided to follow his lead. you were playing jinx, and your team had been struggling to keep up. as the match went on, the player using lee sin executed flawless ganks, setting up kills for you and turning the tide of the game. your jinx’s rockets and rapid-fire attacks synced perfectly with his aggressive plays, and together, you started to dominate the battlefield.

“keep pushing, i’ll cover you,” he directed, his voice steady even in the chaos of the game. to your surprise, the team rallied behind his leadership. turret after turret fell, and soon you found yourselves at the enemy’s nexus. in a stunning comeback, you secured victory.

after the game, “dia_soobie314” sent you a friend request.

“nice playing with you,” his message read. “wanna team up for another round?”

one game turned into two, then three, and soon, you found yourselves gaming together almost every night. your shared love for anime quickly became a staple of your time together. you'd often watch episodes on discord, discussing plot twists and debating the best characters. one of your favorite topics was jujutsu kaisen, and there was that one memorable argument about megumi. soobin had made a comment that you took as a negative remark to your beloved character.

“seriously, megumi isn’t that great,” soobin said, trying to sound casual. “are you kidding me? megumi is awesome!” you shot back, your voice rising in mock outrage.

“he’s too boring. give me yuuji any day.”

“that’s because you have no taste!”

the argument turned into a playful bicker, filled with laughter and exaggerations, and became a favorite story in your growing collection of shared moments.

when it came to gaming, you and soobin made an unbeatable team. you both complemented each other perfectly. you were the one who dived headfirst into the action, while soobin stayed calm and strategic, guiding you through the chaos.

then there were the horror games. you loved them, but soobin was not a fan. whenever a new horror game came up, you’d coax him into playing.

“you promised me we’d play this,” you’d remind him. “yeah, but i didn’t sign up for a heart attack,” soobin would groan. “come on, it’ll be fun,” you’d say with a grin. and it was fun—at least for you. soobin would try to act brave, but his fear was pretty obvious.

“why are all the lights flickering?” he’d ask, voice trembling slightly. “it’s part of the game,” you’d reply, barely containing your laughter. “this isn’t even scary,” he’d insist, though his hands would be visibly shaking on the keyboard.

despite his clear discomfort, soobin would push through, just to be with you. it was endearing and made those gaming nights even more special.

“you know, we make a pretty good team,” soobin remarked one night after a particularly intense match. “we do,” you agreed. “i’ve never had a duo partner like you before.”

outside of the games, your conversations grew more personal. you’d talk about your days, your dreams, and your fears. it was easy to confide in soobin; his voice was always comforting.

one evening, after a string of victories, you found yourselves in a quieter moment. “so, what’s your story?” soobin asked. “how’d you get into gaming?” you laughed, thinking back. “my brother got me into it. he needed a teammate, and i just stuck with it. what about you?”

“i started in high school,” soobin replied. “it was a way to relax after school. never thought i’d meet someone like you through it.” his words hung in the air, filled with meaning. your heart skipped a beat, unsure how to respond. “i feel the same way,” you said softly. “i never expected to find a friend like you here.”

“more than a friend,” soobin said gently. “at least, i hope so.”

those words marked the start of something new. your gaming sessions took on a new layer as your connection grew deeper. what used to be just about winning games became about sharing more personal moments. conversations that started with strategies shifted to late-night talks about your lives, your hopes, and your dreams.

one evening, as you both leaned back in your chairs after another victorious match, soobin’s voice took on a more playful yet earnest tone. “hey, can i ask you something?” he said, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and seriousness.

“sure, what’s up?” you replied, feeling a warm, comforting sensation from the intimacy of your growing connection.

soobin took a deep breath, looking slightly nervous. “so… i was thinking,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “we’ve been playing together for a while now, and i’ve really enjoyed every moment of it.”

you smiled, sensing where this might be headed but eager to hear more. “yeah, me too. it’s been a lot of fun.”

“well, uh,” soobin stumbled over his words, his usual confidence momentarily giving way. “i was wondering… if maybe… we could make it official?”

“official?” you echoed, your curiosity piqued. “like, adding me to your friends list with a special status?”

soobin chuckled, his cheeks turning a soft pink. “not exactly. i mean, i was thinking more like… asking you to you know.. be.. uh.. be my g..girlfriend.” he said, the last word almost inaudible.

the question hung in the air, and you felt your heart swell with emotion. “oh, so you’re saying you want to upgrade from gaming buddies to… couple status?”

“y-yeah, something like that,” soobin said, grinning widely. “i figured, if we’re going to keep winning games together, we might as well win at life too.”

you were touched by his heartfelt words, feeling a surge of happiness. “that’s cheesy, but i’d like that,” you said, your voice warm and sincere. “i’d love to be your girlfriend.” soobin’s face lit up with pure joy, his eyes sparkling. “really?!”

“yeah, really,” you replied. “but only if you promise to keep playing games with me and not let me win just to make me feel good.”

“deal,” soobin said with a laugh, his eyes full of affection. “but only if you promise to keep being as amazing as you are now.”

“i’ll do my best,” you replied, your heart racing with excitement. “and don’t worry, i’ll make sure to keep you on your toes.”

then the time came when you both, you both decided it was time to meet in person. you picked a date and a place, both eager to see each other. the excitement was intense, you imagined the day vividly: finally meeting soobin, feeling his presence in real life.

but plans didn’t go quite as expected. there was a funny mix-up. you had both picked different locations to meet, each of you certain you had the right spot. you ended up at a busy train station, scanning the crowd with anticipation. soobin was at a cozy café on the other side of town, sipping coffee and checking his watch.

hours passed, and the realization set in that neither of you would reach the other’s spot. your messages were filled with confusion and humor.

“are you sure you’re at the right place?” you texted, trying to stay light-hearted.

“yeah, unless this coffee shop moved,” soobin replied with a hint of laughter.

the mix-up became a funny story you both laughed about. it was a reminder of how things don’t always go as planned. after that, you both decided to keep the meeting plans on hold, sticking to being in a long-distance relationship.

as time went on, the idea of meeting in person came up again. this time, you both decided on a trip to japan, a place you had both dreamed of visiting for years. the excitement of finally meeting soobin face-to-face was intense. you poured over every detail, planning each day carefully to make sure your time together would be unforgettable.

“can you believe it’s almost been a year?” you asked one night while on a call with soobin on discord, fingers moving over the keyboard while playing a game before the trip. “it’s wild,” soobin replied. “i’ve been looking forward to this for so long.”

“yeah, i’m definitely not nervous at all,” you joked, though your excitement was hard to hide. “don’t worry, it’ll be great,” soobin said, his voice soothing even from a distance. “we’ve got this.”

the excitement of your upcoming trip to japan filled every conversation you and soobin had. you spent hours discussing and planning, each detail adding to the anticipation.

“okay, so we need to figure out our itinerary,” you said one evening, your screen filled with maps and travel guides. “what’s first on your list?”

“definitely tokyo,” soobin replied, leaning into his webcam. “i’ve always wanted to visit akihabara. i hear it’s like an anime paradise.”

“agreed! i’ve been dying to visit the ghibli museum. i’m bringing my camera for sure,” you said, your excitement clear in your voice. “oh, and don’t forget we have to try all the street food,” soobin added. “i’m counting on you to be my taste tester.”

“taste tester? is that code for ‘let’s see how much you can handle’?” you joked. “i hope you’re ready for some questionable delicacies.”

“bring it on,” he said with a grin. “i’ll just make sure to pack a lot of snacks for backup.”

you both laughed, imagining the endless food adventures ahead. the planning sessions often turned into playful banter.

“so, are we getting lost in tokyo on purpose or is that just a bonus?” soobin asked.

“getting lost is part of the fun!” you replied. “besides, think of all the new places we’ll discover.”

“right. like that time we were supposed to meet in person and ended up at different locations,” soobin teased. “i’m still not over that!”

“oh, don’t remind me,” you groaned, laughing at the memory. “i was at that busy train station, searching for you in a sea of people, and you were at that coffee shop across town.”

“sipping coffee and waiting like an idiot,” soobin said, shaking his head. “we didn’t even think to check our locations again.”

“i still can’t believe we didn’t think to call or text,” you said with a grin. “guilty as charged,” soobin admitted. “but this time, we’re meeting at airport. we’ll be fine.”

as you continued planning, you each picked your favorite spots. you both agreed on visiting kyoto for its beautiful temples and serene gardens. soobin was excited about exploring osaka’s vibrant nightlife and trying the local ramen.

“i’m so excited about visiting the shibuya crossing,” you said, eyes sparkling. “and i’m looking forward to eating my weight in takoyaki,” soobin replied. “just remember, no food fights.”

“no promises,” you joked. “but if we end up with takoyaki in our hair, it’ll be a story for the ages.”

the playful banter continued as you finalized your plans, each moment of preparation bringing you closer. the excitement of exploring japan together, mixed with the joy of simply spending time with soobin, made the trip feel even more special.

the days leading up to your trip were a blur of packing and final preparations. you double-checked everything, eager for the moment you’d finally see soobin in person. the thought of meeting him, sharing real-life laughs and moments, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

“are you ready for this?” you asked soobin during a call when the both of you are busy packing your things. “as ready as i’ll ever be,” he replied smiling, revealing his dimples.

the airport was bustling with activity, a sea of travelers moving in every direction. you and soobin had spent countless hours planning every detail of this moment, from the flights to the outfits you'd wear to ensure you wouldn’t lose each other in the crowd.

you spotted him first. soobin stood out with his black cap that read “bunny senpai <3,” a playful nod to his favorite anime character. you, on the other hand, wore a blue and white striped beanie that was a little too big but made you easy to spot.

the two of you locked eyes across the crowded terminal, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause. a mix of excitement and nervousness danced in the air as you approached each other.

“hey,” you said, trying to sound casual but failing as your voice wavered with excitement.

“hey,” soobin replied, his dimples appearing as he smiled wide. “we finally made it.”

you both laughed, a bit awkwardly at first, but it quickly melted into genuine joy. it was surreal to finally see each other in person after so many months of video calls and messages. “so, how do we do this?” you asked, glancing around. “do we hug, kiss or just wave?”

“let’s go for a hug,” soobin chuckles, stepping forward. the embrace was warm and comforting, filled with all the emotions you had both been holding in. as you stood close, the height difference between you became more apparent. you were smaller than soobin, making him look even taller and more imposing. you had to look up to meet his eyes, which made both of you laugh.

“wow, you’re tall,” you said, chuckling. “i feel like i’m looking up at a skyscraper.”

“and i feel like i’m towering over a very cute skyline,” soobin teased, his smile widening. “this is a new perspective for me.”

“well, at least i don’t need a ladder to hug you,” you joked, tightening your arms around him.

after getting through security and finding your gate, you shared a laugh about your first-time plane experience. “i still can’t believe you’ve never flown before,” soobin said, shaking his head in amusement. “you’re like a kid at a theme park.”

“hey, it’s my first time!” you protested. “i’m allowed to be excited.”

the boarding process was an adventure in itself. as you boarded, you struggled to figure out how to stow your carry-on in the overhead bin. soobin, trying to help, ended up knocking his bag into yours, causing a minor luggage avalanche.

“great start,” you said, laughing. “we’ll survive,” soobin said, grabbing your hand to steady the chaos. “just think of it as part of the adventure.”

once settled into your seats, the excitement of the trip began to settle in. the flight was filled with conversations about what you were looking forward to and how you were going to tackle the next few days. eventually, you both fell asleep, your arms tangled together. as if you will lose each other.

when you finally landed in japan, the rush of excitement was evident on both of you. the airport was another whirlwind of activity, but this time, everything felt thrilling rather than overwhelming.

the first day was spent exploring, starting with a visit to a charming local café. the aroma of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air, and you both enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while soaking in the new surroundings.

“this place is adorable,” you said, sipping on a cappuccino. “it feels so cozy.”

“and the food is amazing,” soobin agreed, taking a bite of a freshly baked pastry. “this is exactly how i imagined our trip would start.”

after breakfast, you headed to one of tokyo’s famous landmarks, the shibuya crossing. standing amidst the amount of people crossing the street in all direction. you both laughed and took pictures, capturing the vibrant energy of the city.

as the sun began to set, you both continued to explore, feeling like you were living in a dream. the excitement of finally being together, combined with the thrill of exploring a new place, made every moment special.

the morning air was crisp as you and soobin ventured into the bustling traditional market in tokyo. the market was a sensory overload of vibrant colors, enticing aromas, and the lively chatter of locals. you both eagerly darted from stall to stall, trying every sample offered.

“so, which street food should we try first?” soobin asked, eyes wide with excitement. “let’s start with takoyaki!” you suggested, pointing to a stall with a long line of eager customers. “and maybe some yakitori.”

you both ordered generously, balancing a tray of steaming takoyaki balls and skewers of grilled chicken. the takoyaki was a delightful mess, hot and gooey, with octopus bits hidden inside. you managed to get sauce all over your hands and face, making soobin laugh.

“you’ve got a little something right here,” soobin said, pointing to a smear of sauce on your cheek. “thanks,” you replied, wiping it away. “you’ve got some too.” you grinned, dabbing at his cheek with a napkin.

as you continued exploring, you ended up buying a small souvenir—a cute, hand-carved figurine from one of the stalls. but as you were admiring it, a gust of wind blew, and the little figurine went tumbling off the table.

“noooo!” you cried, watching helplessly as the figurine rolled away.

“well, that’s one way to give it a proper send-off,” soobin joked, helping you chase after it. eventually, you both found it, and the vendor even gave you a discount for your trouble.

the next morning, you took a train hand in hand to kyoto to visit the fushimi inari shrine. the famous red torii gates created a mesmerizing tunnel that seemed to go on forever. you and soobin wandered through the gates, taking in the serene atmosphere and snapping countless photos.

“this place is even more beautiful than i imagined,” you said, awed by the sight. “totally,” soobin agreed. “though, we’re probably going to get lost in here at some point.”

“i’m already lost in this view,” you replied, smiling. as you climbed higher up the mountain trail, you noticed a small food stall selling traditional sweets. you bought some mochi, but in the excitement of trying to get a perfect photo with the shrine in the background, you accidentally dropped the mochi. “and that’s why we can’t have nice things,” soobin teased, handing you a napkin. “next time, remind me not to be so ambitious with my selfies,” you said, laughing.

the next day was spent at universal studios japan. the park was a whirlwind of colors and excitement, with thrilling rides and themed areas. soobin was especially thrilled about the harry potter world, while you were excited to explore the minion park.

“let’s head to hogwarts first,” soobin suggested, peering at the park map. “sounds good!” you agreed. but somehow, in the maze of attractions, you both found yourselves wandering into the jurassic park area. “how did we end up here?” you asked, laughing as you saw the massive dinosaur sculptures. “i think we took a wrong turn,” soobin said, grinning. “but dinosaurs are pretty cool too.”

after finding your way to the harry potter section, you spent the rest of the day enjoying rides, sipping butterbeer, and taking silly photos with minion-themed props. the park was a blast, and you both relished every moment of it.

on the fifth day, you took a trip to the arashiyama bamboo forest. the towering bamboo stalks created a green, swaying canopy above you as you strolled through the serene path. the cool shade and the gentle rustling of the leaves made the hike incredibly peaceful.

“this place is like a dream,” soobin said, taking a deep breath of the fresh, green air. “definitely,” you agreed. “though, i’m glad we’re not lost this time.”

“not yet,” soobin teased. “let’s see if we can find the monkey park.”

as you wandered, you found yourselves at a nearby bench where you paused to rest. you shared a picnic lunch and laughed about the mix-up with the directions.

“if we get lost again, at least we’ll be lost together,” soobin said, holding your hand.

the last day in japan arrived with a gentle start. after a week packed with adventure, you and soobin decided to take it easy and savor a slower pace. you began with breakfast at a cozy café in harajuku. the place was a charming escape, decorated in soft pastels with a menu full of tempting pastries and aromatic coffee.

after a leisurely breakfast, you strolled through harajuku’s quirky streets. you found a vintage shop with an array of unique trinkets and charming finds. soobin picked out a cute, retro keychain for you.

“this will be a great keepsake,” he said, handing it to you with a smile. “something to remember this trip by.”

“thanks, ‘bin,” you said, holding the keychain up. “i’ll think of you every time i see it.”

your next stop was going back to shibuya. at the famous shibuya crossing, you both marveled at the sea of people moving in perfect chaos. you posed with the hachiko statue, laughing as you tried to capture the perfect shot. “this statue is as iconic as they say,” soobin remarked, adjusting his camera.

“we’ve got to get a picture,” you agreed. “it’s a must-do for sure.”

for lunch, you wandered into a small ramen shop. the rich aroma of broth and the sight of steaming bowls made your mouths water. You both slurped up your ramen with enthusiasm, savoring each bite.

“this ramen is incredible,” soobin said, grinning as he twirled his noodles. “i’m definitely going to miss this.”

“we might have to try making ramen at home,” you suggested. “though i doubt it’ll be as good.”

after lunch, you took a leisurely stroll to a nearby park with a stunning view of the tokyo skyline. you found a peaceful spot under a cherry blossom tree, and took a moment to relax and reflect on your trip.

“this view is amazing,” you said, leaning against soobin. “It’s the perfect end to our adventure.”

“it really is,” soobin agreed, resting his head against yours. “i’ve had the best time.”

as the sun began to set, you headed to a quaint restaurant for dinner. The intimate atmosphere was perfect for winding down, and you both enjoyed a delicious meal together.

“to an unforgettable trip,” soobin toasted with his glass of sake.

“to the best company,” you replied, clinking glasses and smiling.

after dinner, you took a final, leisurely walk through tokyo’s sparkling streets. the city was alive with lights and sounds, and you both soaked in the last moments of your adventure.

“i’m going to miss this,” you said softly, holding soobin’s hand. “me too,” he replied, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. he looked around at the glowing city lights, a thoughtful expression on his face. “what if…” he started, hesitating as if searching for the right words.

“hmm?” you asked, pausing to look up at him. “what if we lived here instead?” he proposed, his voice full of a hopeful, playful tone. his eyes sparkled with the idea, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“‘bin, we’re still in college,” you reminded him with a teasing smile. “i know, i’m not saying we should do it now,” he clarified quickly. “i’m talking about… uhh, when we get married.”

his casual mention of marriage took you by surprise, and you felt your cheeks flush. “you’re thinking about marrying me?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady but unable to hide the blush spreading across your face.

soobin’s expression shifted to one of mock disappointment, his eyes widening in feigned shock. “why? you don’t think about marrying me?” he asked, his tone playfully hurt. you laughed, shaking your head as you reached up to gently pinch his cheeks. “of course i do, dummy. who else would put up with your terrible puns?”

“i knew it!” soobin said, his face breaking into a wide, relieved grin. “i was starting to think maybe i was in this alone.”

you both laughed, the sound of your shared joy mingling with the city’s hum. soobin pulled you into a warm, tight hug, his chin resting on top of your head. the world seemed to pause for a moment, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

as you stood there, holding each other and watching the lights of tokyo twinkle around you, the night felt full of possibilities. the city, the trip, and your shared dreams blended into a beautiful memory, one you knew you would cherish forever.

“let’s make a promise,” you said, lifting your head to look into soobin’s eyes. “no matter where we end up, we’ll always make time for adventures like this.”

“promise,” soobin agreed, his gaze steady and sincere. “and maybe next time, we’ll be exploring somewhere new… or maybe even this city, just as locals.”

soobin looked down at you, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint that made your heart flutter. the city lights reflected in his gaze, adding a touch of magic to the evening. with a playful grin, he leaned closer and said, “you know, i’m definitely marrying you tomorrow so we can be locals here.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a laugh at his bold declaration. “oh really? admit it, you’ve been dreaming of living here because of your anime fantasies, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yes,” he admitted with a dramatic sigh, as if he were reluctantly revealing a long-held secret. his face softened, and he reached out to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “but… but… it’s not just that. i really want to be with you.”

his words, so sincere and filled with affection, made your heart swell. the warmth of his hand brushing against your skin sent a shiver of happiness down your spine. you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and joy.

soobin’s gaze softened, and he placed a tender kiss on your forehead. his lips lingered for a moment, leaving a gentle, comforting warmth that seemed to melt away any remaining traces of the chilly evening air. it was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings.

“when we get back home,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, “let’s still meet, okay? and let’s promise not to lose each other this time.”

you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as you looked into his eyes. “i promise,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “we’ll meet, and we’ll make sure not to lose each other. no matter where life takes us.”

the streetlights cast a soft glow around you, and the bustling city seemed to fade into the background as you both stood there, savoring the moment. soobin squeezed your hand gently, his smile widening as he looked at you with a mix of affection and anticipation.

“and who knows,” he added with a playful wink, “maybe we’ll find a way to live out our dreams together. after all, i have you by my side.”

gyo's note: i'm so inlove with loser bf core soobin i have to write something out of it, quite hard to write the japan trip because i've never been to japan so i just did some research but i hope you loved how i made the japan trip!. if you made it to here, thank you for reading! i hope you liked it and pls like and reblog, it helps my works :>> you will be loved, xoxo!

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muzetrigger · 2 months ago

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Nevermore Theory: It’s not about “The Tell-Tale Heart”

Okay, it’s time for another Friday night rant.

Recently, I’ve been coming across some excellent thoughts and predictions about Season 2, so now I’m ready to throw own my hat in the Nevermore Theory ring.

In Nevermore, almost every character is based off of one of Poe’s works. Lenore is from the poem “Lenore”, Morella is from the short story “Morella”, Prospero is from “The Masque of Red Death”, etc. There are also some characters that draw on more than one of Poe’s works, most notably Duke who takes inspiration from “The Cask of Amontillado” (Fortunato) and “The Duc de L’Omellete” (Duke).

Now, Annabel Lee is obviously based on the poem “Annabel Lee”, which the webcomic even opens with, but @moxiepower2 and @takescrackseriously have also made the connection between Annabel Lee and “The Tell-Tale Heart” and theorized that Annabel might also be a dual-themed character like Duke. I personally find that reading very convincing too!

(I mean c’mon, her spectre has a giant heart-shaped hole in it, the logo for the WEBTOON is beating heart with wings, it’s one of Poe’s most famous works, so on and so forth.)

But today, I’m going to stick my neck out and say, it’s NOT about “The Tell-Tale Heart” (at least not entirely. Annabel Lee could be based on even more than two works!).

I think Annabel Lee’s character points to another of Poe’s stories that lines up really well with the direction of Nevermore as a whole:

That’s right, it’s time to talk about “The Pit and the Pendulum”.

First, I’m going to need to explain this leap in logic, because it’s definitely not as clear as Annabel’s heart motif. Let’s start with the visuals.

Yes, Annabel Lee and Nevermore in general have a strong heart motif, but isn’t it a little odd that Annabel’s heart isn’t totally empty?

It’s a great visual focus for her character design, but that shape is awfully familiar, and it swings around an awful lot like a pendulum, doesn’t it?

And we know that Annabel (as an actual ghost-type spectre) can control the pendulum.

AND Annabel Lee gives the pendulum back to Lenore, with a lock of her hair tied around it, literally binding herself to the tool.

That’s… an awful lot of interaction with an item that is unrelated to her inspiration poem AND has served exactly zero purpose in the story so far. There HAS to be a reason Red and Flynn keep bringing this damn thing up because they play the long con with their foreshadowing (Dirt on Ada’s hands, Annabel Lee’s panic attack, Lenore taking Annabel’s blot, the gun having no bullets at the very beginning of the webcomic).

So now, I want to delve further into the actual text of “The Pit and the Pendulum” because it mirrors a lot what we’ve seen so far in season 1 and could be a good start for predicting what comes next in season 2!

For those who haven’t read “The Pit and the Pendulum” it follows an unnamed narrator who has been arrested by the Spanish Inquisition, pronounced guilty to some crime (it could have been anything, that’s just how the Inquisition rolls), and is subjected to all kinds of unusual torture methods before being rescued by the French army.

What I find so interesting about this story though is that its structure loosely matches the trials that the Deans have set up at Nevermore Academy.

For instance after swooning at his sentencing, the narrator wakes up in a pitch-black room and tries to figure out the shape of his prison by making a circuit. He finds that it’s around a hundred paces, but because of the “many angles in the wall” he can “form no guess at the shape of the vault”. In reality however, the room is perfectly square and only half the number of steps in circuit.

How did the narrator make such a big error in estimating the size of the room? Because he passed out right after missing the marker he had been using to keep track of his location, thus making two laps instead of one.

Now let’s compare it with the first obstacle for Nevermore students, the Labyrinth. Students are thrust into the maze without any knowledge of how to manifest (Annabel only knowing how to because of the Deans making a surprise appearance in class). So metaphorically, they’re also in the dark, and as Lenore and Duke find out as soon as they enter the maze, the labyrinth’s geometry also seems to shift.

Most convincingly (in my opinion), Lenore also looses track of herself during the Dementophobia trial, just like how the Pendulum narrator faints, which is one of the main reasons the misfit trio almost fail.

That near failure also mimics what happens next in the short story, the narrator trips and narrowly avoids falling into a giant pit (hence the title).

That really ticks off the Spanish Inquisition, just like how Lenore pisses off the Deans by surviving, and so the Inquisition does what it does best, and devises a new torture method. This time, the narrator awakens to find himself strapped down to a plank and gazing up at a figure of Kronos, only instead of Father Time wielding a scythe, he’s wielding a massive bladed pendulum (there’s the second half of the title, you’re welcome).

I find this image very telling because it’s supposed to relay the message that the narrator’s death is inevitable. You can’t fight the passage of time, and it doesn’t get less subtle than the god of time killing you with a clock part.

Similarly, ringing the bell in the widow’s watch is supposed to be an impossible task, meant mainly to give the students who have manifested a chance to flex their powers. The Deans admit as much:

But back to the short story, the narrator doesn’t exactly realize his predicament at first. He just thinks it’s kind of an interesting change of scenery and he’s more worried about the fact that his captors have provided him with “meat pungently seasoned” and no water to quench his thirst, which he figures is the real torture method. Oh and the rats. They’re pretty scary too, especially when it occurs to him that he’s definitely not the first person to be shoved in this room, and those rats have to have been eating something.

Eventually, he does notice the pendulum slowly lowering and spends the next *checks notes* 9 paragraphs alternating between despair, apathy, and frenzy. (There’s actually quite a lot to dissect here with regards to Nevermore’s treatment of madness, but let’s save that for later.)

Then he gets a bright idea and rubs spicy meat all over his bonds with the one free arm the Inquisition left him to presumably eat said meat.

Why does he do this?

To entice the rats into eating his bonds, of course! He has to play dead for a bit, and also let rats crawl all over him, but it works and our narrator escapes after a few cuts.

Okay, now let’s take a look at the parallels to that trial in Nevermore. I’ve already gone over the comparison to the bell ringing class as a kind of Sisyphean task, but Lenore also almost gets eaten by Prospero’s rats:

She also succeeds because the people, who are supposed to be her enemies, help her, just like how the rats aid the narrator in escaping. Did I just compare Ada, Pluto, Morella, and Annabel Lee to rats? Yes. Yes, I did.

But I’m going to specifically single out Annabel Lee in this case because Lenore also has to play dead in order to ring the bell. Specifically she pretends to give in to Annabel’s “Kiss of Death”.

So both Lenore and the narrator are momentarily successful after reports of their death are greatly exaggerated.

Then they have the crushing realization that they’re still trapped. Then narrator in the dungeons of Toledo, and Lenore with…

(Minor aside, this is some phenomenal scene work.)

And now the final trial (for our hapless narrator at least). The Inquisition, having been denied their sliced prisoner sandwich, decide to roast him alive instead. You see, the metal walls of the cell can actually be heated up, oh and also they can flatten themselves by pulling the corners apart like a collapsing square.

So the narrator has two choices. Death by being burned alive, or death by falling into the pit at the center of room (remember that detail? It’s still the same room).

To put it in Nevermore terms, Lenore can either test her luck with the Deans OR:

This guy :)

Now, do I think the Deans created The Wild Hunt? No, and I would be very interested in if the Stag turns out to be related to Theo in some way, but I bet the Deans purposefully invited The Wild Hunt into the Academy in order to corral them back into obedience/kill off the troublemakers. (Or maybe they were just bored, who knows?)

NOW FOR THE ACTUAL THEORY PART (How in the world did it take so long to get here? I only have a paragraph left in the short story to use for theory crafting!)

”The Pit and the Pendulum” ends with the narrator being saved literally as he is falling into the eponymous pit by General Lasalle of the French army. That doesn’t make sense because Lasalle wasn’t in the Battle of Toledo where the story takes place, but anachronisms are incredibly prevalent in Nevermore. Pretty much every character comes from a different time and place than the others, most prominently Eulalie, who is probably Japanese and probably died in WWII (though who knows, maybe she was a proto-weeb and died in the firebombings of Dresden).

My theory is that similarly, the main cast is going to be saved by a third party who intervenes during the Hunt. Then, the narrative is going to shift away from Nevermore Academy and towards the afterlife at large. We’ve gotten plenty of hints about the outside, particularly towards the end of Season 1, so I don’t think it’s that unlikely, and if I may make a second literary connection, Nevermore is kind of like the Hunger Games.

Wait! Let me explain.

You have a group of kids/young adults fighting in a premade arena designed by antagonistic game makers where only one of them can come out alive. Generic? Yes? But looking at the Hunger Games Trilogy’s structure, we start with the Hunger Games, get a variation in the Quarter Quell, and then abandon the games to explore a broader scope of the world.

Now, I have the utmost faith in Red and Flynn’s ability to keep the dark academia setting fresh, but the path of least resistance might be getting out of the classroom.

It’s a weak and vague theory, that I don’t even really subscribe to myself, but I thought I should follow the short story to its end at least.

But if I don’t believe in my theory, why did I bother spending the last two hours writing this post?

Well, one, I really like pointing out the parallels between Poe’s work and Nevermore. It’s clear that Red and Flynn put so SO much effort into Nevermore and I genuinely think getting to be in on all those details enhances the reading experience.

But two, do you remember how I started this post?

That’s right, talking about Annabel Lee.

I’ve been doing a lot of comparison between Lenore and the actual text of “The Pit and Pendulum” but I want to show you this illustration of the short story by Harry Clarke:

Does that outfit remind you of anything? Maybe…

Now, Clarke drew the above piece nearly 80 years after “The Pit and the Pendulum” was first published, but considering how prominent this illustration is for the short story, I bet Red and Flynn studied it when writing Nevermore, and I find that really intriguing considering where they chose to reuse the outfit.

There are ribbons all over Nevermore (everyone with a ponytail has one to tie up their hair, Ada uses hers to set Lenore’s broken fingers), but the motif of being bound by ribbons occurs when the narrative is invoking ideas of madness and memory, specifically for Annabel.

And would you look at that. “The Pit and the Pendulum” brings up both of those ideas together: “the madness of a memory which busies itself among forbidden things.”

That’s the last line of the third paragraph, and it’s exactly what Annabel is doing in the bathtub, recalling taboo memories of Lenore.

Plus, this passage happens as the narrator is trying to recover from a swoon, and what do you know? There’s only one character in Nevermore who swooned in season one: Annabel Lee.

Okay? So? Nevermore already has a lot of parallels to this damn story, and I’ve spent the entire post point them out for crying out loud.

But! Poe is very specific about how we recover from a swoon:

“In the return to life from the swoon there are two stages; first, that of the sense of mental or spiritual; secondly, that of the sense of physical, existence. It seems probable that if, upon reaching the second stage, we could recall the impressions of the first, we should find these impressions eloquent in memories of the gulf beyond.” (Emphasis added)

Again, doesn’t that sound familiar? Throughout season 1, the main cast have all been slowly recovering their memories and thus unlocking their spectres which represent fragments of their true selves and desires.

So here’s my actual theory: in the past, Nevermore Academy was used by lost souls to recover their “mental and spiritual” identities, before they reclaimed their “physical existence” at the light beyond the grounds in order to “return to life”.

More importantly, I think the final arc of Nevermore (or epilogue I guess is more likely?) will take place in the mortal world and be about the cast “[recalling] the impressions of [their mental or spiritual senses” (ie. their time at Nevermore Academy) post-second stage, thus completing Poe’s perfect recovery.

Reincarnation isn’t Nevermore’s endgame.

Maybe they have to leave their spectres behind at Nevermore Academy like in the “Theo is the Stag” theory and the final act is about them reclaiming their personas stands spectres to fight against the Deans, or maybe we’re going to go Kimi no Na wa and just get them running into each other and remembering (which would be lame) or Annabel being the only one who remembers and gradually hiking across the globe to find the others (which would be a very cool reversal given how Lenore is usually the one trying to form genuine connections [we’re starting to see some promising Prospero-Annabel friendship development though!] but now we’re also getting into fanfic territory).

Personally, my happy ending at the moment would be Annabel and Lenore teaming up, kicking the Deans out, and reestablishing Nevermore Academy as a sojourn for reincarnating spirits. That way we don’t have to go through reincarnation drama (again) and everyone who sticks around can just chill out and lead peaceful (after)lives or be teachers and show newcomers how to awaken their spectres. But again, fanfic territory.

Wow, that was a whole lot of text that didn’t really amount to an actual theory, but I hope you guys enjoyed reading it?

TLDR if you didn’t: Nevermore season 1 is actually a sapphic rewrite of “The Pit and the Pendulum”, the Deans are the Spanish Inquisition, and the Nevermore’s endgame is going to take place in the mortal world after reincarnation.

Also, I have no spine like Ada and don’t have any conviction in my theories lmao

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justwonder113 · 10 months ago

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Sharing a bed with Channie

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count- 2.5k

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.

For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.

You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!

You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.

You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.

You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.

You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.

To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.

"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"

You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.

After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.

"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.

"Brat."

"You love me."

Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."

You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?

The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?

"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!

Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."

"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.

"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.

"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."

"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.

"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.

You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?

Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.

Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"

What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.

A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

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diamonddaze01 · 3 months ago

Text

The Somerset Affair Chapter 3: Promises Bathed in Moonlight

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.8k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, crying, mentions of a panic attack (not being able to breathe), eventual smut, more to be added a/n: sorry sorry i know ch 3 took forever too lol // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys

summary: maybe you really are well and truly alone.

comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here! series masterlist

The First Year: Summer Age 19

The first season after that fateful night was like a hazy dream. When you returned to the social scene, the whispers followed: why had Lord Lee disappeared from your side, so abruptly and publicly, leaving you to stand alone in the wake of his departure?

You endured it with a forced smile, accepting dances from any man who offered. Seokmin, when you saw him, was always nearby yet achingly out of reach, just beyond the edge of the crowd, his gaze never straying to you. Minghao, perhaps sensing the fraught silence between you, would draw you into conversation whenever he could, his manner protective, his eyes wary.

The estate gardens were nothing short of stunning in the late spring. Bursts of red and yellow tulips stretched toward the sky, their vibrant hues softened only by the ivy draping from the nearby trellis. The whole scene was picturesque, brimming with life and warmth. Yet, to you, it held only shadows, echoes of laughter from a time that now felt far away.

You’d meant to pass by quickly, perhaps even avoid the gardens altogether, but the pull was magnetic, the memories nestled there too insistent to ignore. This had been your sanctuary, your haven of whispered secrets and boundless dreams. You had spent countless summer afternoons here with Seokmin, lying on the grass, watching clouds drift lazily by as he teased you with nonsense riddles and ridiculous tales. He’d always made you laugh—those moments had seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with the certainty that nothing would ever change.

But change it had.

Now, as you stood among the tulips, their bright faces tilted toward the sun, you felt as if you were the only one left in shadow. Each flower seemed to mock you, as if asking why you had come back when he was no longer here to share it with you. You could almost hear his laughter in the rustling leaves, a phantom sound that made your heart ache.

You allowed yourself one indulgent moment of memory, one small surrender to the warmth of the past. In that instant, you could almost feel his presence beside you, could almost hear him sigh as he lay back against the grass and urged you to do the same. Tulip, he’d called you once, likening you to the flowers here—delicate, bright, full of life. His voice drifted through your mind like a warm breeze, and you closed your eyes, feeling the bittersweet pang of loss settle deeper into your chest.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the quiet, and you froze. It was the low murmur of a familiar voice—Seokmin’s voice—wafting toward you from the entrance of the garden. You barely made out the words, some easy greeting exchanged with Minghao as the two approached. The cadence of his voice was softer now, more mature perhaps, but unmistakably his. In an instant, the fragile calm you’d managed to summon evaporated, replaced by a panicked urgency to flee.

You turned on your heel, lifting your skirts as you hurried toward a narrow, shaded path, heart pounding as if you were a trespasser in your own sanctuary. You slipped behind the thick ivy-covered trellis, your fingers clutching the delicate lace of your gloves as you pressed your back against the rough wood. There, hidden from sight, you held your breath, willing your heart to quiet, afraid he might hear it even from a distance.

He paused at the garden’s entrance, his voice carrying lightly on the breeze, mingling with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. It was a voice you had known too well, one that had once woven a thousand dreams in these very gardens. But now, standing there alone and concealed, all you could feel was the sharp edge of those dreams turned to dust.

You dared not look, dared not even breathe until his voice faded and the crunch of gravel beneath his feet grew distant. Only then did you step out from your hiding place, the scene around you as unchanged and pristine as ever. But it felt different, achingly empty. He was gone, and so, you realized, was something inside you.

Your shoulders slumped as you turned away from the gardens, swallowing against the emotion lodged in your throat. You would not come here again—at least, not alone.

That first year passed slowly, the memory of him shadowing you at every event, every garden, every dance, leaving you both haunted and empty.

The Second Year: Autumn Age 20

As autumn arrived, the weight of that lost season faded slightly, turning to something colder, something sharper. You found yourself no longer seeking him out at every ball. Instead, you steeled yourself, donning an unapproachable mask that suited you better with each passing day. Your brother had chosen to spend the season traveling, claiming that the sea salt of Grecian air was calling him. The absence of his protection meant that you had to sail the rough shores of that season alone – Minghao’s letters were frequent and welcomed, always ready to provide words of assurance from thousands of miles away.

Your second season was to be markedly different—by your design and no one else’s. The naive enthusiasm of your first season had faded, replaced by a wariness that had hardened around you like a shell. Suitors still called upon you, though they were fewer and far between, and the gentlemen of impeccable standing, those your mother deemed suitable, grew distant with each passing event. They would approach with polite intentions, murmuring some pleasantry or another, only to bow and make haste to another part of the room where more receptive young ladies waited.

Yet, for all the polite avoidance and empty conversation, there was Lord Yoon Jeonghan, the Viscount of Hastings. He was different—not at all the cold and detached nobleman that society often produced, nor the vapid fop more concerned with his cufflinks than his conversation. He was witty, charming even, and his remarks would often spark a laugh that you could scarcely suppress. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time you spoke, as if you were unraveling a particularly delightful mystery, and for those brief moments, he made you almost forget.

Almost.

You felt his gaze often, lingering in the spaces between words, and sometimes, if you were honest with yourself, it was almost enough to ease the ache that had taken root in your chest. There was a certain warmth to his presence, a lightheartedness that let you slip free from the burdensome weight of the past. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his interest immediately. She seized upon his attentions with thinly veiled glee, her gaze often flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating. She would arrange you beside him at dinners, leave you in his company at the slightest opportunity, her encouragement subtle yet unmistakable.

Jeonghan would lean in close, his words laced with humor, often turning some mundane observation into something absurdly funny. And for a fleeting second, the laughter would come easily, a balm to the bruised and hidden parts of yourself. You allowed yourself to think, Maybe this could work.

But the quiet, hollow ache lingered, a constant reminder of the ghost you could not quite shake. And that ghost was Seokmin.

Seokmin, who watched from across the room, his gaze burning, perceptive as ever. He was polite, distant even, but his presence was always there, like the flicker of candlelight that neither dimmed nor died. You could feel it most keenly when you danced with other men, swirling across the floor to the strains of violins and cellos. Once, as you stepped onto the ballroom floor with Jeonghan, you felt Seokmin’s gaze settle on you from across the room. The intensity of it was enough to make your skin prickle, and suddenly you were painfully aware of every step, every turn.

The first misstep was subtle—a slight stumble over the Viscount’s foot. But as you met Seokmin’s eyes, his brow lifted ever so slightly, a smirk hovering just on the edge of his mouth. That subtle, amused expression set your pulse racing in a way you would never confess. And in your distracted state, you stumbled again, this time nearly losing your balance. Jeonghan chuckled, mistaking your lapse for some charming display of nervousness, too oblivious to realize the true reason for your faltering steps.

Seokmin’s gaze, however, saw straight through you. His smirk was knowing, almost taunting, as though he could see past every mask, every effort you’d put into your newfound resolve. It was maddening—the way he could still get under your skin, the way he seemed to enjoy watching you unravel, even if only for a second. The lingering effects of that look stayed with you long after the music ended, clinging to you like perfume.

And so, you spent the season caught between two worlds. Lord Yoon, with his charm and his lightheartedness, who could ease the bitterness that lay thick upon your heart if only for a while. And Seokmin, a relentless presence, haunting you from across every ballroom and garden, his gaze a tether you could never quite sever. It was a delicate dance, one you performed night after night, hoping, in vain, that one day you would not feel his eyes on you at all.

The afternoon sun angled low over the estate, bathing the drawing room in a cool October light that poured through the high windows, softening the sharp edges of the day. Minghao had just returned from his travels and had brought back a novel he thought you would enjoy—Jane Eyre, by a Miss Brontë. The air was thick with the quiet thrill of this gift, the promise of evenings spent lost in its pages, and you had just begun to express your excitement when Minghao, with his usual calm, announced that Seokmin had accompanied him.

You schooled your face to remain pleasant, though your pulse quickened at the mention of his name. And indeed, there he stood by the door, his posture polite yet tense, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes dark with some unreadable emotion. He offered a slight bow, his gaze fixed on you even as you looked firmly at your brother.

"Did you know," Minghao began, oblivious to the tension in the room as he handed you the book, "that the author published it under a man’s name? Some say it’s because she thought her work would be dismissed otherwise."

You managed a small smile, allowing yourself the momentary reprieve of this topic. “Thank you, Minghao,” you replied, fingers grazing the embossed cover. “I’ll cherish it. It sounds wonderful.”

Across the room, Seokmin shifted, clearing his throat. "Do you find time to read often these days?" His voice was tentative, a hint of hope or maybe familiarity clinging to the question, as if reaching for a bridge long burned.

Your reply was smooth and immediate, though you kept your gaze firmly on Minghao, as if Seokmin had merely been a ghost in the room. "I make time, yes. It’s quite necessary, given the, ah… limited options for conversation."

A faint hint of color rose to Seokmin’s cheeks, but he quickly smothered whatever response he had been about to make. Minghao glanced between you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pieced together the simmering tension, the edges of a puzzle he hadn’t been around to see formed.

There was a brief pause, heavy as stones, before Seokmin tried again. "Do you still ride out to the southern fields? I remember…" He hesitated, his words trailing off before he finished. “The views from the hilltops there were always lovely in the fall.”

It was a simple question, a nod to a pastime you had once enjoyed, but the memories it evoked—the two of you racing across the meadows, laughing breathlessly under the open sky, sharing quiet moments on that hilltop he spoke of—all felt too sharp, too close. You tightened your grip on the book, the rough binding grounding you in the present.

"Occasionally," you murmured, as if speaking to no one in particular. Your tone was clipped, devoid of warmth, and you let the silence stretch, long enough for the weight of his words to fade. After a beat, you forced yourself to stand, smoothing the fabric of your dress as you prepared to excuse yourself. “Please, if you’ll excuse me.”

Seokmin’s face barely shifted, yet the flicker of disappointment that crossed his features was unmistakable. "Wait, please—" he began, his hand reaching out as if to stop you. “I… wanted to know if you might—”

You looked over at Minghao, not giving Seokmin the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. “Thank you for the book, brother,” you said softly. “I’ll look forward to discussing it with you when I’ve read it.” And with that, you turned, leaving the drawing room before Seokmin could finish his thought.

You could feel his eyes on your back, a silent, unyielding weight as you retreated, but you pushed down the churning emotions in your chest.

Later, your mother found you in the library, a faintly exasperated look in her eye. "What has possessed you to act so sharply towards Lord Lee? He is a friend of your brother’s, and a gentleman. I hardly think it was necessary to snub him quite so… thoroughly."

"I simply wasn’t inclined to entertain him," you replied, not lifting your gaze from the book you had barely managed to focus on since leaving the drawing room. “It was not my intention to be rude, Mother.”

She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. “He asked after you very kindly. And if you cannot manage the simple courtesy of conversation, well…” Her sigh was laden with disappointment, tinged with the faintest trace of resignation. “It does make things rather difficult for you, don’t you think?”

You didn’t respond, clamping your lips shut and focusing on the words of Jane Eyre as if they might hold an escape. What could you say? That politeness was a currency you could not afford to spend on him? That every pleasantry only made the knife in your back twist a little deeper?

There was nothing to be done, and so you said nothing at all. The book lay heavy in your lap, unread, as your mother’s gaze lingered a moment longer, her silence more cutting than words.

The Third Year: Winter Age 21

The winter air nipped at every inch of bare skin as you stepped out of the carriage and into the towering, grand hall where that night’s ball was being held. Snow blanketed the world outside, a thick layer that muffled everything it touched, leaving only the crunch of footsteps and the soft murmur of the wind. The frost bit through your gloves, but it was nothing compared to the cold lodged deep within your chest. You drew yourself up and stepped into the hall, a practiced smile on your face as you greeted the hosts and exchanged pleasantries.

Inside, the ball was already in full swing. Laughter and music filled the air, weaving an intoxicating tapestry of distraction. You navigated through clusters of guests with practiced ease, inclining your head and making idle conversation that barely skimmed the surface. You had come to know the routines well, slipping into this role as though it were armor: a mask of charm, a shield of grace. It kept you safe, even as it kept others at arm’s length.

But then, just as you were making your way toward a friend by the window, you spotted him—Seokmin, across the room. He was surrounded by a small group of gentlemen, his laughter carrying over the din as he shared some amusing story. His cheeks were flushed from the warmth, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you’d once adored. For a moment, a whisper of memory drifted to you unbidden—those nights by the garden, his laughter mingling with the soft hum of summer crickets, a harmony you’d taken for granted. The sight of him now, seemingly unaffected by the hollow ache that had lodged itself so firmly within you, twisted something in your chest.

As though he could feel your gaze, his eyes turned toward you, catching you unprepared. His laughter faded, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, regret, perhaps. Or something more resigned, an acceptance of the chasm that had grown between you. He made no move toward you; there was only a slight nod, a silent acknowledgement of… something. You couldn’t name it, and you didn’t want to try.

It was his easy return to conversation that undid you. The way he turned back to his companions, laughing once more, as if nothing had changed, as if the years you’d spent trying to bury the echoes of that ball could be erased so simply. The laughter that once filled you with warmth now rang hollow in your ears, a reminder of all that was lost and all that could never be reclaimed.

The walls of the ballroom began to feel oppressive, the cloying warmth of bodies and perfume suffocating. You pressed a gloved hand to your temple, feigning discomfort as you turned to your nearest acquaintance. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” you murmured, a faint tremor in your voice that you hoped was undetectable.

“Oh, my dear, are you all right? You do look rather pale,” she said with concern, her eyes scanning your face. “Perhaps some fresh air?”

“Yes,” you managed, barely holding together the thin fabric of your composure. “Yes, that may be best.”

With a polite smile and promises to catch up at the next event, you drifted toward the doorway, slipping through the crowd as unobtrusively as you could. The cold air in the entry hall was a shock, but you welcomed it, letting it bite into your cheeks and ground you.

Soon enough, you found yourself in your room, finally alone. The silent darkness enveloped you, and for the first time that night, you let yourself drop the mask. You sank into the nearest armchair, clutching the armrests as if they could anchor you. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, catching the moonlight like shards of glass. There was no warmth, no comfort in the scene, only the lingering shadows of a memory that refused to fade.

You had no energy to reach for a book, nor did you bother lighting the fireplace. Instead, you sat, letting the silence swell around you, filling the empty spaces that had been left in Seokmin’s wake. Your gaze lingered on the frost etching delicate patterns across the glass, and for a moment, you wondered if he was still at the ball, still laughing, still untouched by the winter that had settled so deep within you.

It felt almost foolish to mourn something you had lost so long ago, but as the hours slipped by, you couldn’t bring yourself to shake the feeling.

The bitterness reached new heights that year. Your relationship with Minghao, however, began to shift. He sensed your resolve, noticed the way you shrank from any mention of Seokmin, and quietly took up the role of your champion. He became your shield at social gatherings, a polite, steadfast presence whenever your mother hinted at your dwindling prospects or a suitor left you standing alone. Your mother’s eyes, ever watchful, lingered upon you with a barely hidden concern, her gaze darting to the eligible gentlemen nearby and then to you with that familiar, expectant look.

“You know,” she began in a low voice, “if you were only a touch more… approachable, it might encourage the young men here to consider you more seriously.”

You forced a small smile, the words heavy and stale from years of repetition. “I’ll do my best, Mama.”

But before she could respond, a familiar voice joined the conversation.

“Ah, I see my sister is charming everyone tonight,” Minghao remarked smoothly as he appeared beside you, offering a short bow to your mother. “May I borrow her for a moment?”

Your mother’s gaze softened—she had never worried over Minghao as she did with you, and his title afforded him some measure of leniency that you could never claim. She nodded, though her expression remained faintly expectant as she watched you both step away.

Minghao led you toward the edge of the ballroom, his arm steady around yours as you wove through the crowd. Once there, he turned to you with a look that spoke of both amusement and concern.

“You looked ready to flee,” he observed, a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Would you like a few minutes’ reprieve?”

You sighed, grateful for his intervention. “I was beginning to feel like a prized cow at market,” you replied, tone dry. “Thank you for sparing me.”

He chuckled softly, but his expression grew more serious as he studied you. “I noticed Mother watching you rather closely. And I know her remarks can be… persistent.”

“Persistent is a kind way of putting it,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper. “She insists that my chances dwindle each season, that—” You cut yourself off, pressing your lips together to hold back the frustration that threatened to spill over.

Minghao’s gaze softened, and he sighed, reaching out to adjust the lace of your cuff in a gentle, brotherly gesture. “You’ve nothing to prove to her or to anyone else here,” he said quietly. “If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be here to see you through the night.”

Despite the stifling heat of the ballroom, his presence felt like a breath of fresh air—a lifeline against the unrelenting pressure of society and its expectations.

“And if any gentleman dares to turn his back on you tonight,” he added, his voice adopting a playful lilt, “I shall personally see to it that he regrets it.”

The corners of your mouth lifted into a small, appreciative smile. Minghao’s protectiveness was a comfort you rarely admitted to needing, but tonight, you couldn’t help feeling grateful that he saw past your composed exterior to the worry lingering beneath.

The music shifted to a slower waltz, and he extended his hand with a knowing smile. “Shall we dance, sister? A waltz is far more agreeable than enduring Mother’s lectures, I assure you.”

You accepted his hand, letting him lead you to the center of the room. As you twirled together, the swirling silks and laughter around you faded into the background, leaving only the familiar warmth of his presence.

After a moment, he leaned in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “And for what it’s worth,” he murmured, “you have no need of any of these foppish gentlemen. They should consider themselves lucky if they could win even a passing glance from you.”

The sincerity in his words soothed you, and for a brief moment, the ballroom was no longer a daunting place, nor its occupants a source of anxiety. Minghao’s quiet strength steadied you, his steadfast support as dependable as the rhythm of the waltz beneath your feet.

Yet, even with Minghao’s silent support, Seokmin’s laughter ringing through the ballroom haunted you, echoing a reminder of what you once had and what you had lost.

Across the room, your gaze flickered to a familiar figure, the Lord Viscount Yoon, the lightness of his presence breaking through your somber thoughts. He had been different—his clever banter had a way of making even the most mundane topics feel lively and engaging. When he spoke, it was as if he was inviting you into an exclusive circle of shared secrets and laughter, making you momentarily forget the weight of expectations pressing down on you.

Even now, he stood amidst a group of gentlemen, engaging in light banter that sent ripples of laughter through the crowd. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time he caught your gaze, but he looked away just as quickly, as if your newfound prickly attitude was enough to scare him away.

Over time, your disinterest had made him less willing to approach you. Though he had shown interest the previous year, the glow in his eyes now held a tinge of uncertainty, as if he had begun to doubt whether your heart remained open to him. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his hesitance, her gaze flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating.

“Perhaps if I were a bit more approachable,” you murmured to Minghao, who nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward Jeonghan.

“Sometimes, it takes more than just approachability,” he replied quietly. “He is a good man, but the more you withdraw, the more he may think he should step back.”

You let the thought linger in your mind, but it was soon drowned out by the sight of Seokmin across the room, leaning in to laugh politely with another woman, a vision of laughter and ease that made your heart twist painfully. The vibrant atmosphere of the ball blurred around you, filled with the laughter of others while your own heart sank, caught between the past and the possibility of a future—one you feared might never be yours again.

The Fourth Year: Spring Age 22

Spring came late that year, but the blossoms in the garden were the most vibrant you had ever seen. Tulips, bright and full of life, lined the path outside your drawing room window. Their sight brought an unwelcome reminder of Seokmin, as if they were mocking the pain that had dulled over the years but never truly healed.

One fateful morning, Seokmin arrived at the estate again, waiting for Minghao in the drawing room. You entered the room unaware of his presence, intending to retrieve a letter you had left on the table. The shock of finding him there, standing alone, was enough to root you to the spot.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. “How have you been?” he asked, breaking the silence, his tone formal but softened by something more vulnerable.

“I try to stay busy,” you replied, refusing to meet his gaze, your own fixed on the tulips outside the window, as if they alone could fortify your resolve. The way they leaned toward the glass, reaching out, seemed a cruel reminder of what you could never reach. You clung to your indifference, fearing that one look at him would undo you.

“Ah,” he replied, his voice barely a murmur. “I see.”

The silence was unbearable, stretching long and wide between you, filled with all the words you had left unsaid. For the first time, you could sense his unease, as though he, too, felt the weight of everything that had come between you. You imagined he might say more, but instead, he fell silent, unwilling or unable to breach the chasm.

When Minghao finally entered the room, his gaze shifted from Seokmin to you, sensing the tension immediately. He offered a warm, lighthearted greeting that brought some relief, yet you felt exposed, as though Seokmin could still see every last flicker of pain beneath your carefully controlled exterior. Minghao’s easy conversation filled the room, and you seized on it as a lifeline, grateful that the moment had passed.

But as you left the drawing room, something inside you felt irrevocably changed. The wound you thought had healed now ached anew, as raw and fresh as ever.

Age 22

The season has turned again, and as you step into the grand ballroom, you are met with a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that fill the air with an electric energy. The chandelier overhead sparkles like a constellation of stars, its crystal droplets refracting the warm glow of candlelight that dances across the room. The polished wooden floors gleam underfoot, reflecting the vivid hues of the gowns that swirl around you like petals caught in a gentle breeze.

After five seasons on the market, the whispers of society have cast you in the role of a spinster. No longer the young debutante brimming with promise, you now find yourself almost a chaperone to the eager, wide-eyed debutantes navigating their first seasons. Your newest charge, Sohee, is a whirlwind of youthful exuberance, her bright pink dress adorned with intricate floral appliqués that seem to bloom against her pale skin. The bodice sparkles with tiny beads, catching the light as she twirls, her laughter ringing like bells. You can see the nervous energy in her movements, the way her hands flutter as she points out various gentlemen across the ballroom.

“Oh, look at Lord Lee—what a fine dancer!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement as she gazes at Seokmin. His deep navy jacket contrasts sharply with the pristine white of his shirt, and the cravat around his neck is tied with an effortless elegance that only enhances his charm. The way he carries himself, relaxed and confident, seems to draw the attention of everyone around him.

You try to mask the bitterness rising within you as you observe him. Seokmin entertains Sohee’s infatuated chatter with polite smiles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. For a fleeting moment, you are grateful that she has captured his attention, but then the weight of your own feelings crashes over you like a cold wave. The ache in your chest deepens as memories flood your mind—long summers spent chasing fireflies, laughter echoing through the fields as he playfully pursued you with a worm on a stick, or the way he would reward your sharp tongue with that unguarded, carefree laughter.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, Seokmin’s gaze suddenly shifts, catching yours from across the room. Your heart leaps into your throat, a jolt of surprise and embarrassment coursing through you. Mortified that he has noticed your lingering stare, you quickly avert your eyes, but the warmth of your cheeks betrays you. You want to disappear into the vibrant crowd, to escape the intensity of your emotions that seem to swell with every passing second. Yet, even as you force yourself to engage with Sohee’s exuberant chatter, you can feel the weight of Seokmin’s gaze resting on you, a silent reminder of everything you’ve lost and the connection you once shared.

It is a cruel twist of fate, standing on the sidelines while young girls like Sohee chase the dreams you once held so dear. You find yourself in this role, a guide for the naive and hopeful, all the while wishing that you could feel that same thrill of possibility. The grand ballroom, alive with laughter and music, feels both enchanting and suffocating, each dance a reminder of the joys that have slipped through your fingers.

As the music swells and couples begin to sway across the polished floor, you catch glimpses of Sohee and Seokmin amidst the swirling gowns and dapper jackets. They move with an innocent delight that contrasts starkly with the weight of your unspoken feelings. Sohee beams up at him, her laughter bright and infectious, and for a moment, the sight softens the edges of your heartache.

Just then, you feel a presence beside you, and when you turn, you find Viscount Yoon Jeonghan standing there, a knowing smile dancing on his lips. His appearance is as striking as ever; his tailored coat hugs his frame perfectly, and the delicate embroidery along the cuffs catches the light, giving him an almost ethereal glow. His hair falls elegantly around his face, framing those sharp features that always seem to hold a hint of mischief.

“They make quite a pair, do they not?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and warm as he gestures subtly toward the young couple. His eyes sparkle with a mix of humor and curiosity, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the lighthearted conversations you once shared, the way he could lift your spirits without even trying.

You glance back at Sohee and Seokmin, your heart twisting at the sight of them. “It seems so,” you reply, your tone nonchalant, though the bitterness seeps through. “She is quite taken with him.”

Jeonghan’s gaze lingers on the two, but then shifts back to you, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “And yet, I believe it’s Seokmin’s charm that keeps her so enchanted. He has a way of making everyone feel special, does he not?” His words are light, but there’s an underlying sincerity that pulls you in.

“Especially the younger ones,” you add, your voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. You cross your arms, an instinctive barrier against the swell of emotions threatening to break free. Jeonghan tilts his head, studying you with an intensity that makes you self-conscious.

“Ah, but don’t let that dampen your spirits,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I suspect that there’s still magic left in your own waltz.”

You scoff softly, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “I’ve had my dance, my Lord. It’s only right that I help guide the next generation.”

He nods, as if he understands more than you’ve revealed. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little bit of the spotlight yourself, does it?” His gaze holds yours for a moment longer, an invitation hanging in the air between you.

Taking a deep breath, you accept his invitation with a gentle nod. Jeonghan extends his hand, and with a sense of determination, you place yours in his. The moment you step onto the dance floor, a familiar spark ignites between you. As you move, you find the rhythm of the waltz is an intoxicating escape from the weight of the evening.

His touch is confident yet gentle, guiding you with an ease that sends warmth through your veins. You laugh softly at his playful quips, the way he effortlessly spins you and twirls you beneath the glimmering chandelier. The surrounding laughter and chatter fade into a soft background hum as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment.

But just as you begin to forget the lingering ache in your heart, a commotion draws your attention away. You glance over to find Sohee in an animated conversation with Seokmin, her eyes wide with excitement. She appears to be swooning—her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink as she clutches her fan, fluttering it in the air as if to cool herself.

And then it happens. As the waltz concludes and the music reaches its crescendo, Seokmin leans down to retrieve Sohee's fan, which had slipped from her grasp in her flurry of emotion. The way he effortlessly picks it up and hands it back to her is undeniably charming. She gazes up at him with unrestrained adoration, and in that moment, it’s as if the entire ballroom falls silent, the air thick with their connection.

Your heart sinks, the joyous moment turning into a bitter reminder of your own unfulfilled longing. You feel the weight of your own feelings crashing down, suffocating the lightness of the dance you just shared with Jeonghan. The innocence of Sohee’s crush, her delight at Seokmin’s attention, stabs at something deep within you, twisting the knife of your heartache just a little deeper.

“Lord Lee is such a gentleman,” Sohee breathes, her eyes sparkling with admiration. You try to smile, but the corners of your mouth feel heavy, the happiness you should feel for her overshadowed by the ache in your chest.

“Quite the pair, indeed,” Jeonghan murmurs beside you, his tone shifting slightly. You glance up at him, but the amusement in his eyes has dimmed, replaced with a knowing sympathy that only intensifies your discomfort.

“I should—” you start, desperate to escape the scene unfolding before you, but Jeonghan catches your gaze, his expression serious yet gentle.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, concern lacing his voice.

You swallow hard, nodding even though you can feel the tears threatening to brim. “Yes, of course. It’s just… a reminder of what I’ve lost.”

Jeonghan’s eyes soften, understanding radiating from him. “Then let’s step outside for a moment, shall we? A breath of fresh air might do you good.”

You nod again, grateful for his presence, and together you slip away from the dancing couples, leaving behind the laughter and music, hoping the cool night air will ease the weight on your heart. As you step outside, the crisp night air envelops you like a silken shawl, drawing you away from the swirling gaiety of the ballroom. The coolness is a welcome reprieve from the warmth of bodies and laughter, and you relish the soft caress of the breeze against your skin, bringing with it a gentle rustling of leaves that whispers secrets from the garden. The scent of blooming jasmine and sweet honeysuckle mingles in the air, heady and intoxicating, wrapping around you like a lover’s embrace.

You move to the stone balcony, where the moon hangs low in the sky, its silvery glow spilling over the manicured gardens below, illuminating the delicate petals of the flowers that sway gently in the evening light. The grass is cool beneath your feet, a delightful contrast to the warmth of your silk gown, and you can feel the slight dampness of dew beginning to settle on the earth, a reminder of the approaching night.

Fidgeting with the lace hem of your gown, you feel the fabric whisper against your ankles, the soft silk cool to the touch. Your heart races as you catch sight of Jeonghan stepping out to join you, his tall frame silhouetted against the glow of the moonlight. He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You love him,” he states matter-of-factly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” You turn to him, surprise etched across your features. Your fingers tighten around the delicate lace, twisting it nervously as if it could shield you from his piercing gaze.

“It is nothing to shy away from,” he continues, his tone surprisingly earnest. “I have observed the two of you for years, engaging in this delightful dance around each other. You love him. That is a fact. Do not shy away from it—love is a beautiful thing, even if it is tinged with loss.”

You force a laugh, the sound almost bitter. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“And if I am?” Jeonghan counters, his brow arching slightly, inviting you to delve deeper into the conversation.

“Why, then,” you reply, your heart racing with a mixture of intrigue and dread, “it cannot be that only my secrets are shared tonight.”

“Lady Choi,” he says, the shift in his tone unmistakable, as though he is unearthing a long-buried truth.

“The general’s wife?” you ask, the name escaping your lips with an air of disbelief.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, the lightness of the evening is overshadowed by the weight of his admission. “She was mine first,” he admits, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion. “But her father—he was a cruel man—wished to marry her off before I ever had the chance to court her properly, as adults.”

You draw a sharp breath, the air suddenly feeling thick and heavy around you. “Lord Yoon, it is a sin to desire another man’s wife,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as they continue to play with the delicate fabric of your gown.

“And it is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours,” he replies, a note of melancholy creeping into his voice. “It seems we are both trapped in a most unfortunate dilemma, Miss Xu.”

You hesitate, the truth of his words resonating within you like the toll of a distant bell. You find yourself gazing at the garden below, the moonlight casting long shadows across the path. “I… suppose.”

His expression softens, the tension between you easing slightly as he steps closer, the distance shrinking as if the night conspires to bring you together. “I have an idea, if you are amenable to it,” he proposes, his voice low and conspiratorial.

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piquing despite the tumult of your thoughts. “I suppose I have no choice but to hear it.”

“Let us… have an arrangement of sorts.”

Your mind races, the absurdity of the suggestion both ludicrous and strangely enticing. “An… arrangement?” you repeat, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“A loveless marriage is better than none at all,” he declares, his eyes glinting with a mixture of seriousness and mischief.

You laugh, unable to contain yourself. “You jest. Have you indulged in more champagne than you can manage?”

“I assure you, I am as clear-headed as the sky on a summer’s day,” he insists, maintaining eye contact with a steady gaze that makes your heart flutter. “We are friends, are we not?”

“Friends? My lord, we have danced a few times, to my mother’s delight,” you reply, a teasing lilt in your voice, though your heart feels heavier with the weight of his words.

He feigns a look of mock hurt, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. “You wound me! We have enjoyed such spirited conversations! I do consider you a friend. And a marriage with a friend—a viscount at that—is nothing to scoff at. Have you given no thought to your future? What happens when your dear brother finds a wife and you are no longer his primary concern?”

The reality of his words settles over you, sending a shiver down your spine. You search the moonlit path, pondering the path that lies ahead. “Just… think about it,” he presses, his voice earnest, the night seemingly holding its breath.

The silence stretches between you, the world around you fading as you consider the proposal. You raise your gaze to his, a flurry of emotions swirling in your heart.

But as the moment hangs in the air, he steps back, creating a chasm of space between you once more. The hope in his eyes flickers like the stars above, illuminating the path of unspoken possibilities.

With a lingering glance, Jeonghan turns to leave, the quiet night reclaiming its stillness. Alone now, you stand beneath the watchful gaze of the moon, a companion that seems to mock your predicament, its light dancing across your skin like a playful breeze. The weight of the evening settles around you, the possibilities of what could have been lingering like a sweet perfume in the air. The garden around you, fragrant and alive, seems to echo your turmoil, the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets a reminder that you are not as alone as you feel—but still, the loneliness wraps around you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and inescapable.

The Queen’s Garden is even more stunning at twilight, an exquisite tapestry of flora bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. Lanterns hang from the branches of ancient trees, casting a warm glow that mingles with the fading daylight, creating a magical ambiance that enchants every guest present. Lush greenery and blooming flowers adorn the paths, their fragrant scents—jasmine, roses, and honeysuckle—drifting through the air like a sweet serenade.

As you weave your way through the throngs of elegantly dressed nobles, the cool evening breeze brushes against your skin, a refreshing contrast to the warmth radiating from the lively crowd. The sounds of laughter and spirited conversation wrap around you, punctuated by the delicate notes of a string quartet nestled among the trees, their melodies intertwining with the soft rustle of leaves overhead.

Amidst the gaiety, you scan the faces around you, searching for Sohee. Her absence hangs like a whisper, pulling at your awareness.

Just then, your gaze lands on Lord Yoon Jeonghan, standing across the garden. His tall frame commands attention, and as you meet his eyes, he offers you a teasing wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. He raises his glass in a casual salute, a playful reminder of the “arrangement” he proposed only weeks prior.

But as you turn to continue your search, you hear a soft rustle behind the curtains of the powder room. A frown creases your brow, and with a sense of trepidation, you pull the curtains aside.

What you find steals the breath from your lungs: Sohee, her dress slightly askew, caught in an intimate embrace with Seokmin, hidden from view. Time seems to freeze as you process the scene before you, the vibrant colors of the garden fading into a blur.

They don’t notice your entrance, the warmth of their laughter drifting toward you, blissfully unaware of the precariousness of their moment. A wave of urgency washes over you; you step back, the laughter and music of the ball dimming behind you, overwhelmed by the tension in the air.

The cool mask of indifference you wear feels like a fragile façade, barely holding up against the storm of emotions roiling within you. Every heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythmic reminder of the tension crackling in the air. You force yourself to breathe slowly, deliberately, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mingling with the sharp tang of night air filling your lungs.

You clear your throat, breaking the stillness that envelops the hidden corner where Sohee and Seokmin stand. Your posture is straight, your chin lifted, but your palms feel clammy against the lace of your gown.

“Sohee,” you say, your voice steady and cool, as though dipped in ice, “you should return to your Mama. If anyone else had seen you like this, it would ruin you.” The words hang in the air, each syllable heavy with consequence. You hold her gaze, your eyes fierce, willing her to understand the gravity of the situation.

Sohee’s eyes widen, vulnerability flickering across her face like candlelight. The flush staining her cheeks deepens as she processes your words, a mixture of mortification and gratitude washing over her. She nods, biting her lip, and you watch as she slips past you, shoulders squared despite the embarrassment, grateful for your discretion.

Once she disappears back into the sea of guests, the atmosphere shifts. It’s just you and Seokmin now, the weight of the moment pressing down like a thick fog, the sounds of the ballroom fading into a dull roar. For the first time in years, you stand alone with him, the years of silence and distance palpable between you.

You turn to leave, the flutter of your gown trailing behind you, but his voice stops you, soft and tentative, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Please, don’t go.”

You whirl around, disbelief etched across your features. “Why on earth? What are you doing here?” Your heart pounds, and your fists clench at your sides, the intensity of the moment clawing at your composure.

He takes a step closer, the distance between you shrinking, but the space feels charged with electricity. The use of that name—“tulip”—falls from his lips like a spark igniting a fire inside you. Anger bubbles to the surface, your fingers curling into fists. “You have no right to call me that anymore.”

His expression shifts, desperation creeping into his tone as he opens his palms, a gesture of vulnerability. “It’s been four years, and you still won’t give me the chance to explain myself.”

Your chest tightens at the memories, sharp and unyielding, a storm of emotions swirling within you. “So was it because Minghao told you to?”

His gaze darkens, the flicker of regret visible in his eyes. “Yes, but you need to—”

“Good evening, Seokmin.” The words slip from your mouth like ice, cold and final. You turn to leave, your back straight but your heart racing, and he reaches for you, fingers brushing against your arm like a whisper.

You jerk away, anger and hurt surging through you, the fabric of your dress catching in the air as you turn. “Please, stay,” he begs, his voice thick with emotion, almost desperate. “Stay and let me explain—”

You shake your head slowly, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken history. “You lost the right to that four years ago.” Your voice softens, but the resolve behind it remains, a quiet storm ready to break. In a flurry of lace and silk, you turn on your heel, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick grass as you leave him standing there, a distant silhouette against the vibrant backdrop of the garden.

The night air feels cooler as you weave through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. You seek solace in the bustling ballroom, where laughter and music swirl around you, a cacophony that drowns out the echo of your heartache. The warmth of the candles flickers against your skin, the soft glow momentarily comforting amidst the chaos.

The crowd shifts around you, a blur of color and laughter, but everything feels muted—distant—as you navigate back toward the main hall. Your heart still pounds, each beat a reminder of the encounter that lingers, bitter as smoke. And then, across the room, a familiar pair of eyes finds yours: Jeonghan. His gaze is intent, assessing, and as he raises his glass to you with an amused smirk, his words from weeks before echo in your mind: “It is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours.”

The decision is instant, unbidden, like the snap of a thread pulled too tight. Steeling yourself, you weave through the crowd toward him, your mind clearing with each step. Jeonghan turns slightly as you approach, his attention shifting from the men he’d been conversing with. You stop just a breath away, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you, even as laughter and chatter fill the air.

“My lord,” you say, voice steady as a blade.

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Miss Xu?” His eyes gleam in the low light, the gold of the candle flames reflecting in them. “I must say, you look rather lovely in this garden.”

“Yes.” The word is simple, yet it feels like a vow, a quiet certainty.

His smile falters for just a second, replaced by a glimmer of surprise in his eyes before he quickly recovers. He leans in slightly, his voice softened but no less intent.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice calm but resolute. “I shall marry you.”

Jeonghan’s expression settles into something unreadable, a flicker of surprise replaced by the slightest tilt of a smile. He inclines his head, the elegant motion drawing him closer, as though sealing the moment between you.

“A wise decision, Miss Xu,” he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. The sounds of the garden around you blur into silence, the perfume of roses and night-blooming jasmine heavy on the air, and though the world presses on with its merriment, this quiet promise, made in the hush of the queen’s garden, feels irrevocable.

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