#markhyuck au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

junrenjun · 1 month ago

Text

after hours

mark lee x fem!reader x lee donghyuck, frat au

genre: mainly smut tbh

wc: 3.8k

warnings: afab reader, mark and haechan are frat bros, weed (smoking, edibles), unprotected sex (have safe sex plz), threesome, highkey switch!mark and switch!reader i guess, kind of dom!haechan, pretty heavy member x member in this, teensy bit of orgasm denial

The house is just as hot and sticky as you remember it to be. There’s people everywhere and you have to push around to get to the stairs. A pledge sits on the bottom step, eyes glued to his phone. He finally looks up when you approach. “You have to be with a brother to go upstairs, ma’am,” he drawls, boredom clear in his tone.

“Ma’am? What am I? 30?” you ask him. “And I’m here literally every week.”

He responds without looking back up from his phone. “You still have to be with a brother to get upstairs.”

You’re starting to get impatient now. At this rate, the whole frat is aware of you and Mark’s “weekly weed time” as he calls it. Hell, half of them have participated at one point or another. “I am with a brother. I’m here to see Mark Lee, just like I do every Friday.”

The pledge looks up at you again, exasperation clear on his face. “The brother has to be present. Like here with you right now.” You’re starting to miss Sungchan and Shotaro. They would never do this to you.

“Well the brother I’m here to see is probably as high as balls in his room right now…” you say, trying your best to sneak past him.

He puts an arm out and braces it against the wall to stop you. Your movements halt. “He still has to be here,” he informs you, annoyed.

“Oh my god,” you raise your voice a bit. “Where is Taeyong?” you mumble to yourself, knowing the President himself would be able to get you out of this predicament.

As you fish through your hoodie pocket to find your phone, a voice from the top of the stairs calls your name. There stands Lee Donghyuck, leaning casually over the railing, a solo cup in his hand and a smirk on his face. “What are you doing down there baby?” You shiver at the nickname.

You shoot a pointed look toward the man on the last stair, who is now looking up toward the upperclassman. “I’m waiting for one of you fuckers to come find me, since your own pledge won’t let me upstairs.”

Donghyuck lets out a “tsk” sound, shaking his head at the younger boy. “C’mon man. She’s here every week, you should recognize her by now. And let her up, she’s with me.”

Surprisingly, the pledge doesn’t let you go right away. “She said she was here for Mark,” he informs his brother.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, leisurely strolling down the stairs. Once he reaches the bottom, he pushes the pledge’s arm out of the way with his foot. “Well she’s here for me too. Right baby?” You nod. “Go tell Sungchan to take over stair duty tonight for you, since you can’t seem to do your job right.” The boy nods hurriedly and scurries off.

He smirks down at you, hand reaching to wrap around your waist. Leading you up the stairs, his fingers brush lightly against the bare skin that shows when your hoodie pulls up a bit. It sends electric shocks down your spine. “Tell Johnny that the next pledge task should be to brush up on the frequent flyers list,” you mumble to him.

He simply laughs in response. “I can do that.” Once you reach the top, his hand moves from your waist to the small of your back, leading you through the crowded hallway. Finally you reach a door that you have become all too familiar with lately. A green street sign reading “Lee Lane” stares back at you. You still have yet to hear the story of how they obtained it. They refuse to tell you.

Donghyuck reaches out and opens the door for you, slightly bowing. “My lady,” he says in an awful recreation of a posh accent. You roll your eyes and step through the entryway. You’re immediately greeted by 5 familiar faces and a cloudy haze of smoke.

Jeno and Jaemin are slouched over each other on the couch, a little too handsy for what should be considered just friends. Nothing atypical there. Chenle and Jisung are sitting at Donghyuck’s desk, the taller man attempting to play some sort of game while the other eggs him on. Mark is lounging on his bed, blunt in one hand, phone in the other. “Where’s Renjun?” you pout once you notice the blonde man’s absence.

You feel a familiar hand wrap around your waist once again. “He’s got an essay due at 11:59,” Chenle responds, not looking up from where his eyes are glued to the monitor.

“Damn,” you reply. “Really wanted one of his edibles tonight.” With that, Mark leans down, starting to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand, passing the blunt to Jeno in the meantime. Once he finds what he’s looking for, he raises his head, a dopey smile on his face. He waves a little plastic bag around excitedly.

All of a sudden, the smile drops from his face. His eyes are zeroed in on the hand circling your waist. “Hey!” he whines, grabbing Hyuck’s attention. “I thought I said no touching. She’s my weed partner not yours!” Mark and Donghyuck usually have no problem sharing you, so you suppose this little comment is meant to keep up appearances in front of their friends.

The hand reluctantly leaves your side and Donghyuck crosses the room to jump up onto his own bed. “She’s half the frat’s weed partner at this point, man!” He dramatically falls to his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“True that!” Jaemin raises his head to shout from his spot on the couch. He looks…blasted to say the least. It’s clear his head is spinning from the sudden movement. After a moment, he just says, “woah” and tucks his head back into Jeno’s chest, who hums in delight.

Mark captures your attention once again, patting the spot on the bed next to him. You jump up and join him. He offers the plastic bag to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Got this just for you.”

You reach for the bag excitedly, only for him to pull away from you cruelly at the last second. “Mark,” you pout at him, a frown on your face.

He simply laughs, leaning down to put his lips on the shell of your ear. “Gimme a kiss first, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his antics. A year ago, you would’ve choked on your own saliva hearing those words. Now, they’re like second nature to you. Leaning over the side of the bed, you pluck the blunt out of Jeno’s hand. The man in question hands it over easily, moving to pick Jaemin up and take him back to their own room.

Turning back toward Mark, you take a hit, leaning close with your hands on his shoulders, and then exhale. He inhales the smoke, his own lips inches from yours. When he finishes the shotgun, he presses a small kiss to the side of your mouth. “Thanks baby,” he whispers.

“Hey!” Hyuck calls out. When you turn, his eyes are locked on you and Mark. “Calling her baby is my thing!”

A groan is heard from the opposite end of the room. “Can’t you three get a room?” Chenle asks exasperatedly.

“We’re in our room,” Mark says in the most deadpan way he can muster. It’s not all that serious, the high leaving hints of that dopey smile on his face. It’s enough to work on Chenle though, because seconds later he’s turning the PC off and dragging Jisung out of the room by the collar of his shirt.

As the door is shut once again, Donghyuck hops down from his bed, moving to lock it. “Finally some peace and quiet,” he mutters once he completes his task. You giggle a little at the statement. You’re not quite sure it truly qualifies as peace and quiet if you can still hear the loud music and voices from downstairs.

The man moves once again, but this time approaches Mark’s bed, tossing himself dramatically on the end and taking the blunt out of your hand. While he occupies himself with getting even higher, you turn your attention to the man next to you. “Can I get that edible now, Markie?”

He must have been lost in thought, because your words seem to startle him. Finally, recognition sparks in his eyes once he realizes what you mean. “Oh, yeah,” he mutters, handing the plastic bag to you.

You take it from him and unzip it, popping the gummy into your mouth. It’s strawberry flavored, one of your known favorites. You practically moan at the taste. “God, Renjun deserves some fucking head for this,” you say.

Donghyuck snorts from his place at the end of the bed, eyes dazed but looking right at you. “Nah,” he shakes his head. “Mark deserves the head if anything. He practically got on his knees to beg Renjun to save one for you.”

You look over at Mark to gauge his reaction. He has his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed with his face tilted slightly toward the ceiling. His hand has drifted down to your thigh, fingertips running lightly over the bare skin where your shorts end. There’s no reaction evident on his face. It’s likely that he’s completely zoned out, unaware of the conversation taking place before him.

“That can be negotiated,” you finally say, swinging one of your legs around so that you end up straddling his lap. The sudden movement pulls him from his daydream, his head dropping to look you in the eyes. You’re hovering slightly above him, not yet giving him the pleasure of your weight on top of him.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Whatcha doing pretty girl?” His hands move to rest lightly on top of your hips.

You lower yourself a little bit more, your skin brushing against his sweatpants. “Hyuck said you deserve a reward for bringing me an edible,” you concede. “And I need something to entertain me until it kicks in.”

Mark simply hums in response, his eyes hazy but still somewhat focused on you. You hear shuffling at the end of the bed as Donghyuck moves to put out the blunt. You’re not surprised. Ever since you and Mark invited him to join your little Friday night shenanigans, he’s been keen to be in on the action. Eager to ramp the energy up, you lean in and press a long kiss to Mark’s lips.

It’s sloppy, especially with the way he’s clearly feeling the effects of his smoke session. You pull back a bit, admiring the way your spit decorates his lips. His eyes look lazily up into yours and you smirk when they flutter close as you grind your hips down. “Fuck,” is all he manages to say as he throws his head back.

You let yourself get lost in the movement, your own eyes finally closing. However, you’re startled when a pair of hands settle on your waist. Halting your movements, you turn to peek over your shoulder. Donghyuck has settled on his knees in between Mark’s spread legs, his head tipped dangerously close to your neck. The grip on your hips tightens and he whispers, breath tickling the back of your neck. “Don’t stop because of me, pretty.”

When you turn back around, Mark is watching you both, his eyes heavy with desire. His hands grip your thighs relentlessly as the bulge in his pants grows larger by the second. Remembering Hyuck’s words, you grind down on him once again. “Atta girl,” you hear from behind you, and it sends a rush of heat right down to your core.

Donghyuck controls the pace with the hands on your hips, purposefully teasing both you and Mark. Your ass brushes back against Hyuck’s own erection every few strokes. Meanwhile, the man under you starts letting out breathy moans. The longer it goes on, the more you start to feel the effects of your edible. Your senses heighten and everything feels ten times more pleasurable than if you were sober.

The hands on your waist start to move up, making quick work of removing your shirt. Donghyuck’s mouth meets the back of your neck as he removes your bra. Mark instantly groans as your chest is freed from the material. He doesn’t waste a second, sitting up as much as he can and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

Between him and Hyuck, who is now leaving marks on the junction of your neck, you are not going to last very long. You don’t have to worry though, because Mark suddenly plants a hand on your stomach, pushing himself away from you. You are thrown backwards, falling into Donghyuck’s chest.

Confused, you look down at the man who is now leaning against the headboard, flushed and panting. “What’s wrong Mark?” you ask, your own voice a little breathless.

“I…” the man stutters. “I was gonna cum,” he finally admits.

“Aww,” Hyuck teases. “Was Markie gonna cum just from a little humping and sucking on some titties?” Mark’s face reddens immensely and he visibly swallows, but doesn’t respond. “I think he was…” Donghyuck teases again. “How about that pretty girl? You were gonna make him cum in his pants.”

You understand Mark’s embarrassment. Your own orgasm was not that far away. To be honest, you don’t even know how Donghyuck is coherent enough to be doing all this dirty talk. It seems that both you and Mark are a little too gone for your own good. In more ways than one.

“So selfish,” Hyuck continues, sliding a hand past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers ghost lightly over the seat of your panties, the wetness spreading uncomfortably. “Leaving our girl all wet and unsatisfied because you can’t restrain yourself.”

You’ve never seen Mark like this. The flush on his cheeks has spread down his neck and out to his ears. Pupils are blown wide, his chest heaving like he’s catching his breath. You can see his cock jump in pants at Donghyuck’s words. He even whines a little bit. Usually he’s more dominant than this, taking the lead but relinquishing control to Hyuck every once in a while. Tonight, it’s clear that’s not going to happen. You’re intrigued.

The man behind you taps your clit a few times, drawing you from your thoughts. You breathe out hard. “You want this?” he questions teasingly. He moves his hand a circle, the friction so delicious you have to let out a moan in response. You hear him chuckle into your ear. “Then get naked. Mark too.”

Mark’s eyes snap forward at the mention of his name. Quickly, he makes work of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one swipe. You kick them off onto the floor somewhere. Then, you lean down and yank his shirt over his head. The action tussles his hair, which now falls into his face messily. You don’t take the time to admire it though as you help Mark shimmy his sweatpants and boxers down. It’s awkward and takes a bit of time, but finally, his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Good girl,” you hear from behind you before you can move to touch it. Mark’s hips buck up into the air and he whines. “Oh did I forget someone?” Donghyuck teases. Mark nods relentlessly. “Good boy Markie,” he whispers. Yet again, his cock jumps.

You turn your head over your shoulder, looking for your next instruction. Hyuck clearly wants to be dominant tonight, so you’ll indulge him for Mark’s sake. He must have removed his shirt while you were busy stripping, because you’re met with the sight of his bare chest. You follow his happy trail down to where he has his cock hanging loosely out of his pants. He quirks an eye at your ogling. “You getting eager, pretty?” he asks. You nod.

“Okay,” he tells you, head raising to look at Mark. “Ride him,” he says, leaning back on his heels lazily. You follow his instructions wordlessly, straddling the boy in front of you once again. You line yourself up with him, preparing for the stretch. A finger running up your spine halts your motions and you shudder. “Uh uh. Face me,” he demands. You hear Mark choke up a bit at the thought.

Hesitantly, you turn around, resuming your position. Your hands are planted on the bed next to the inside of Mark’s knees, Dongyuck sitting right in front of you. You go to sink down once again, but right before you do, Hyuck grabs your chin harshly and forces you to make eye contact. “Look at me while you fuck him.”

You gulp nervously, but continue to look into his eyes. Finally, you start to sit on Mark’s cock. The second his tip enters you, he’s moaning loudly. “Holy shit,” he breathes out. His hands grip your hips harshly, like he’s trying to ground himself. Meanwhile, you’re trying so hard to maintain eye contact with Donghyuck. The feeling of being stretched out makes you want to let your eyes roll to the back of your head. He looks back at you in amusement, like he’s getting off on both you and Mark’s struggle.

“Keep going baby,” Hyuck tells you, leaving no room for argument. You resume your motions once more and Mark is no longer keeping his sounds at bay. The room fills with a cacophony of groans. As you continue your staring contest, you see Donghyuck’s hand move out of the corner of your eye. From what you can tell, he’s started to jerk himself off at the sight of you riding Mark. It takes everything in you to not look down.

You raise yourself up and down continuously, the pace slow, but not torturous. Mark is clearly loving it, from the way you can hear his breathing pick up. “So good,” he slurs, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Yeah?” he teases, finally breaking eye contact with you to look back at Mark. “Tell our pretty girl how good she’s making you feel.”

“So good, Y/N. Making me feel so good baby,” he says, voice cracking at the end of the sentence. You’re too preoccupied to really take his words to heart. You’ve taken the opportunity to let your gaze drift down to Donghyuck’s cock and the way he strokes it casually. There’s an obscene amount of pre-cum beading at the head, dripping down onto Mark’s sheets. You moan at the sight.

You don’t realize that Hyuck has turned his attention back to you. Suddenly, his fingers are back on your chin, slowly tilting it up. “What did I say about eye contact?” You look up at him through your eyelashes. “Good girl,” he whispers, and you pussy throbs at the praise. Mark must feel it, because he lets out an especially loud groan.

After a moment, Donghyuck shifts forward a bit, bringing himself closer to you. “Go faster,” he instructs, while his free hand snakes down to rub circles on your clit. You jolt at the feeling, but try your hardest to continue looking him in the eyes. “So sensitive,” he coos while you finally pick up your pace. Between Mark’s cock hitting your sweet spot and Hyuck’s hand brushing roughly against your clit, you feel the pit in your stomach rising.

You’re not sure if your moans pick up or if Donghyuck just has a sixth sense for you approaching orgasm, but either way, he calls you out. “Gonna cum?” he asks, a sick smile spreading across his face. You nod eagerly. “What about you Markie?” A mumbled yes is heard from behind.

“Mmm,” Hyuck hums. “Better tell her to get to work then, because neither of you are cumming until I’ve cum.” Your eyes flick down to his cock, and this time he doesn’t scold you for breaking eye contact. You reach out and wrap your hand around him. He shudders a little and sighs. Slowly, you begin pumping him, trying your best to find all the spots that make him tick. You flick your wrist aggressively, your thumb coming up to brush at his tip every few strokes. It’s got him going for sure, but not enough to send him over the edge.

At this point, you’re getting desperate. Mark clearly is too, because he’s egging you on pleadingly, like he’s dying to cum. “C’mon pretty, please get him off. Please.”

Finally, you run your thumb down the vein on the underside of his cock and his hips jerk. Then suddenly, he’s cumming, white spraying over your stomach, onto Mark's legs, and the sheets. You let him come down a bit, his chest heaving and his head thrown back carelessly. Once his eyes flutter open, you do your best to put a pleading look on your face. “Hyuck, please let us cum.”

He nods wordlessly and you take it as a sign to pick up the pace once more. Mark gasps from behind you and you gasp in response as Donghyuck flicks your clit over and over. Moments later, you’re finally hitting the edge. “I’m cumming,” you announce breathlessly, leaning forward to let your head rest again Hyuck’s chest.

The pulsations from your orgasm carry Mark to completion too, his cock twitching within your walls and painting them white. He lets out a guttural groan and you moan at the feeling of his cum inside you. As you come down, Hyuck has one hand on the back of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your hair. His other hand does the same thing on Mark’s lower thigh.

He lets you both recover for a minute before speaking. “I may be high as fuck still, but we might want to sleep in my bed tonight,” he says, looking down to the spot on the sheets where some of Mark’s cum has dripped down to mix with his own.

“Yeah,” Mark says groggily from behind you. “This is gross.” You tuck your head further into Donghyuck’s chest in embarrassment.

Mark laughs at your actions. “Why so shy all of a sudden, pretty?” he mocks.

“You have no room to talk Markie,” you tease back. Donghyuck’s chest rumbles as he laughs at your banter.

“Okay,” Hyuck finally concedes, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you off Mark. You whine as you become empty, spend dripping out of you. “Let’s get cleaned up. Then we can cuddle,” he declares, carrying you to the attached bathroom. Mark’s footsteps follow behind you. You sigh in contentment, ready to relax with you two favorite boys.

#lu writes #frat au #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagine #haechan x reader #haechan imagine #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck imagine #markhyuck x reader #mark lee smut #haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct x reader

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spidergrysn · 8 months ago

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CHALLENGERS: markhyuck x reader

cw: 18++ reader is kinda like tashi, challengers quotes in green, a bit of tennis lingo i had to google LOL. markhyuck are lowkey pathetic losers in a hot way, cussing, flirting, innuendos with tennis racquets, slightly switch! haechan but mostly dom, mark slight switch! (markie is mostly subby at first), switch! reader, tennis is kind of hot idk, degradation/name calling, ass slapping, don’t be silly wrap ur wily!, fat cock haechan, alcohol and cigarette mention, CUNT!!!!!, fingering, making out, blow jobs, use of the word “sir”, boys kissing. (this is my first time writing smut LOL)

“Mark, you really fucking suck,” Haechan teases, his laughter and voice bouncing around the court.

Haechan jogs to the corner of the court grabbing his chunky bottle of gatorade, chugging it down as dewey sweat drops, drop from his sun-kissed complexion. He then jogs back over to join Mark again, Haechan reaches over the net and hands the bottle to Mark. The black-haired boy grabs it as he thirstly chugs the remaining liquid, not caring about the drops of sweat rimming the bottle from Haechan or the slight backwash his friend left.

“Thanks,” Mark utters with a half-hearted grin as he walks back to his spot on the court. He picks up his tennis racket, gripping it as he takes a spare neon tennis ball out of his black gym shorts before serving the ball to Haechan, who is locked in, ready in position.

The ball bounces between the boys rhythmically as the two best friends engage in lively banter about the happenings in their lives: from girls to tennis to the excitement of their favorite artist releasing a new album. They babble back and forth, eagerly awaiting the moment when one of them slips up in their exchange.

"That's game!" Haechan's voice echoes across the court as Mark's racquet swings through empty air, narrowly missing the trajectory of the ball. With precision, Haechan had delivered a swift and well-placed shot, leaving Mark scrambling to catch up. The ball zips past him, its velocity a testament to Haechan's pure skill. Mark's dark brown eyes follow the ball's path, a mix of frustration and admiration evident in his expression, as he realizes he's unable to return the shot in time. With a defeated nod, he acknowledges the end of their match.

Mark rolls his eyes in frustration, his fingers tightening around the grip of his his racquet as he trudges to the corner of the court where his backpack lies in wait. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, evidence of the intensity of their match, he bends down to retrieve his bag, his chest rising and falling with each panting breath. With a quick sigh of relief, he unzips the side pouch and fishes out a bottle of water, the cool liquid soothing his heated throat as he takes a refreshing sip, quenching his thirst.

Meanwhile, Haechan approaches with a light jog, his movements fluid and effortless, really showing off his endurance. With practiced ease, he scoops up his red duffel bag, effortlessly tucking his racquet inside before hoisting it onto his shoulder with a nonchalant shrug. Mark watches with a mixture of envy and admiration, always impressed by Haechan's composure even after theirs grueling matches and practices.

"Yo, let's go," Mark suggests to his friend, signaling toward the exit of the court. The chestnut-haired boy beside him simply nods in agreement.

As they stroll side by side, they leave the court behind, lost in the thought of getting to go home; and let loose by playing video games so loud their neighbors complain.

"Ahem, watch where you're going," Haechan hears a sharp voice cut through the air, and he looks up to find a girl standing directly in his and Mark’s path. She's clad in an old grey tennis competition shirt from 2021 and a matching tennis skirt, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. The sunlight dances off her radiant skin, unadorned by makeup, its clear to testimony to her natural beauty. Her finely plucked eyebrows arch elegantly above her big doe eyes that exude a natural confidence, she holds onto a duffel bag in one hand and a baby blue tennis racquet in the other, the ribbon in her hair mirroring the color.

"Holy shit," Haechan gasps, caught off guard by her presence, while Mark shoots him a quizzical look. The girl, however, remains unfazed, her demeanor poised and self-assured.

"So, are you going to stand there with your mouth open, or are you going to apologize for bumping into me?" she demands matter-of-factly, her gaze fixed on Haechan as though she were towering over him with her confidence alone despite, Haechan being quite a few inches taller than the girl.

"Uh, yeah, my bad," Haechan stammers, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Mark elbows Haechan, confusion etched on his face as he wonders why his typically quick to fire back friend would allow someone to talk to him like that. The girl's piercing gaze shifts between them before she directs her attention blankly at Mark.

"You kinda suck, not gonna lie," the girl remarks, her tongue clicking in a somewhat condescending manner, a twisted smile playing at the corners of her lips. Mark is taken aback; he was used to Haechan poking at him about his skills, but hearing it from a stranger irritated him.

"And who even are you?" Mark retorts, his tone laced with skepticism.

The girl raises an eyebrow, unfazed by his challenge. "I was watching you guys play. You play really sloppy, you don’t know how to focus, and your serve is pretty shit," she says casually, her words cutting through the air like a well-aimed volley.

“Like you could do any better," Mark fires back defensively, his confidence wavering slightly as he notices Haechan's nervous laughter, a rare occurrence from his usually cocky friend.

"Hmm, well then, play me?" she suggests casually, her smirk showing a hint of amusement. "My teammate is running a bit late. I don’t mind taking you on as a warm-up."

With graceful poise, she lightly jogs to one side of the court, positioning herself with effortless confidence. As she stretches her toned legs, her movements deliberate and fluid, Mark can't help but admire the beauty and strength evident in her slender form.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

"You're an absolute idiot," Haechan grumbled, irritation lacing his words. "Do you have any idea who that is?"Mark's head tilted in confusion as he shook it slowly, indicating his lack of knowledge.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

Haechan let out an exasperated groan, his frustration sketched all over his face. "For someone who spends so much time on the court, you're clueless about the social scene.

That's MOTHER FUCKING Y/N L/N, one of the most formidable players at the college level. She's undefeated, has crazy-ass brand deals, and let's not forget, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Easily in the top three of my 'women I'd let fuck me with my tennis racquet list, and she's not second or third, I'll tell you that much."

Suddenly, it dawned on Mark. Though he had never seen her up close, the name Y/N L/N had circulated in his head at one point or another, whether through passing mentions or Haechan's enthusiastic discussions about her tennis prowess. She was undeniably beautiful, but her reputation for arrogance and rudeness preceded her, making Mark annoyed at the thought of facing her on the court.

"Are you two gonna jerk each other off all day, or are we here to play tennis?" Y/N's voice interrupted, punctuated by the thud of a tennis ball landing at their feet. Mark snapped into action, catching the ball and grabbing his racket, positioning himself on the opposite side of the court.

"Your serve first, princess," Y/N says with a smirk, her competitive spirit evident as she awaited the match to start.

Haechan's gaze shifted from Mark to Y/N, He stood on the sidelines, practically drooling, mesmerized by the presence of the infamous tennis player.

As Mark began to serve, Haechan couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "His serve kinda sucks," observing with a critical eye as Y/N effortlessly returned the ball, her movements graceful and fluid.

As the games goes-on, Mark began to understand why Haechan had spoken so highly of her. Y/N's skill on the court surpassed anything he had ever witnessed. The way she wielded her racket with precision and power was mesmerizing, almost enchanting. It was as if she weren't just playing tennis; she was conducting a symphony of athleticism and beauty , each stroke executed with a her own powerful flair that bordered on ethereal.

Caught in the spell of her dance-like performance, Mark found himself growing increasingly frustrated with his own skills. He could only watch in awe as Y/N dominated the game with her masterful strokes and unwavering focus. It was a sight to behold.

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted as Y/N served the ball, and Mark, caught off guard by her skill and agility, missed his return. Her laughter, light and melodic, filled the air as she declares the game is over.Y/N sways up to the net, her eyes gazing at Mark intrigued with a mix of scrutiny.

“You really do suck," she stated matter-of-factly again , her tone holding a hint of brutal honesty. "But you've got crazy potential. You don't give up easily, and that's a good trait."

Mark's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" he retorted, a tinge of defensiveness creeping into his voice.Y/N shook her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

"No, it's supposed to be a critique," she clarifies, her gaze unwavering.

She then shifted her attention towards Haechan, nodding approvingly. "Your friend over there, the one with the brown hair and tiny man-whore shorts, he's not bad at all. Pretty good, actually. But you," she turned back to Mark, her expression serious, "you'll never catch up to him if you keep playing like that."

Mark felt a surge of annoyance bubbling within him. Who did this stranger think she was, passing judgment on his skills just because she was some kind of "tennis god"? Before he could voice his protest, Y/N cut him off, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade.

"Let me coach you."

Mark's jaw dropped in disbelief, a mixture of shock and irritation coursing through him."You're taking pity on me? How lucky I must be," he scoffed, rolling his eyes in frustration.

Y/N merely shrugged, unfazed by his sarcasm. "Well, yes. You should be very lucky," she replied, her tone unwavering as she extended a once and a lifetime offer.

Y/N flashed a mischievous grin as she extended her offer, her eyes darting towards Haechan, who hovered nearby like an eager labrador puppy."You can bring your little friend too," she quipped, her tone teasing yet serious . "Just tell him to lay off on the 'Fuck me eyes.' He's very obvious with it."

Before Mark could protest, Y/N continued, her words cutting through his initial resistance just like her well-aimed serve.

"If you actually want to get far in life, you need to be skilled at hitting a ball with a tennis racquet," she stated bluntly, her gaze unfazed as she laid bare the reality of the situation. Mark let out a defeated sigh, his insecurities gnawing at him as he hesitantly nodded in reluctant agreement.

"So, are you gonna give me your number?" he ventured, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Y/N's lips curved into a playful smile. "No! You have to earn that," she replied, her demeanor unyielding yet playful. "Just meet me here tomorrow at 6 am."

"6 am? You're crazy," Mark exclaimed, his disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yes, I fucking am," Y/N replied nonchalantly, already turning to meet up with her teammate who arrived a little bit ago. "Bye."

"Wait, you're not even gonna ask for my name?" Mark called out, his frustration mounting as she walked away without a backward glance.

The girl hummed slightly, a mysterious smile dancing on her lips as she jogged up to her teammate, enveloped in a cloud of laughter and chatter.

Mark let out a heavy sigh as he approached Haechan, who stood with raised eyebrows, his curiosity piqued by the encounter."We've got to be here at 6 am tomorrow," Mark announced, his tone a mixture of resignation and disbelief. "She offered to coach me."

Haechan's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face as he processed the news. With a hearty clap on Mark's back, he exclaimed, "Mark Lee, you dirty bastard!” Grabbing Mark by the arm and pulling him away, their laughter echoing across the tennis court as they made their exit.

•

"You're late!" the girl's voice rang out across the court, her tone sharp with annoyance. "Yeah, well, some of us aren't used to waking up at 6 am," Haechan retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm as he jogged onto the court alongside Mark.

The girl scoffed, her irritation evident as she shook her head. "Which is exactly why you guys will never get better than where you are now," she shot back saying, her gaze piercing as she focused on Haechan. "You aren't that bad at all, but you have a big ego, and you won't get very far with that attitude, I'll tell you that."

Haechan tilted his head, muttering under his breath about her audacity, but the girl paid him no mind as she shifted her attention to Mark.

"And you.. YOU need my help the most," she continued, her tone firm and slightly unkind. "Don't waste my time again."

With a click of her tongue, she flashed a brief smile before announcing about today’s drills.

By the time their intense session came to an end, the boys' bodies felt as if they had been through a meat grinder. Every muscle screamed in protest, their arms threatening to detach from their sockets, and their hair clung damply to their foreheads. Gasping for breath, they dashed to their water bottles, gulping down the refreshing liquid before Y/N could subject them to any more torture.

Leaning against the fence surrounding the court, the boys found temporary solace, their bodies sinking gratefully into the cool metal. Y/N approached them with a slight smile, her demeanor more relaxed now that the intense training session was over.

"Not too bad today," she remarked, glancing at her watch, the time reading 9 am. Her gaze shifted back to the boys. "Keep practicing like this, and you both might actually stand a chance against other players."

With a collective sigh of relief, the boys slumped down against the fence sitting on the ground, finally allowing themselves a moment of peace. Surprisingly, they found themselves not minding Y/N's presence as she joined them, the three of them sitting in comfortable silence.

From that day forward, their routine was set in stone. Four times a week, at the ungodly hour of 6 am, Mark and Haechan met Y/N on the court. She pushed them to their limits, mixing half-assed compliments with snide remarks, but beneath her tough exterior, she was undeniably a good fucking coach.

•

Before the sun could even rise on the clear day, Mark and Haechan piled into Mark's sleek black car, the engine humming to life as they head to the tennis field. The clock on the dashboard read 5:40 am, showing their intense dedication to the crazy Y/N’s early morning training sessions.

"You know, I think we are kinda warming up on her more more," Mark speaks up quietly, his gaze focused on the road ahead as he maneuvered through the empty streets. Haechan nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "You still don't think it's weird she hasn't asked for our names or our numbers?"

Mark tilted his head in consideration before shaking it. "Nah, I think she's just weird like that. Who knows?"

With a nod of acknowledgment, Haechan launched into a passionate discussion about an upcoming women's tennis match, his enthusiasm showing as he detailed the fierce competition from renowned colleges across the country and even internationally.

"You think she's got this in the bag?" Haechan inquired, his curiosity evident as they neared their destination. "There's some pretty sick competition out there." Mark nodded fastly, his confidence unwavering. "There's no one as good as her, I'm convinced. Not with that fiery personality."

Haechan chuckled in agreement as they pulled into the parking lot, the quiet hum of their conversation dissipating as they exited the car and joined their "coach" on the court, ready to tackle another challenging session Y/N is about to throw at them.

The boys positioned themselves on opposite sides of the court, their anticipation making them shake as they awaited Y/N's next move. With a smile playing on her lips, she spoke up, her voice carrying a playful edge.

"As you know you guys have a competition soon," she remarked, her observation drawing their attention back to their upcoming match, momentarily forgotten amidst the excitement of the women's tournament.

"Do you guys think you're ready?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow expectantly. Mark and Haechan exchanged glances, their minds racing as they mentally assessed their readiness. With a determined nod, they both replied in unison, "Yes."

“Good, because whoever wins gets my phone number,” Y/N declared with a teasing smirk, her words sparking a competitive fire within the boys.

Despite her occasional harshness, both boys found themselves growing increasingly fond of her, their admiration morphing into a subtle crush on the elite tennis player. On days when she wasn't with them, their conversations inevitably drifted towards the egotistical but enigmatic girl, filled with friendly banter and playful jabs about who could win her “heart” first.

The boys' faces lit up with excitement as they eagerly awaited Y/N's next move, her mischievous gaze locking onto theirs with a playful glint in her e/c eyes.

"Now get off the court, I have a competition soon and I need to practice," she commanded, her voice carrying a hint of urgency beneath its casual tone.

"You made us come here at 6 fucking am to tell us this?" Haechan half-yelled, his frustration bubbling to the surface as Mark groaned, upset at the lost opportunity for precious sleep.

"Yes, I did. Now leave, you idiots are gonna distract me," Y/N retorted, her tone firm yet tinged with amusement.

The boys exchanged annoyed groans, not even surprised by her antics anymore, as they gathered their belongings getting ready to leave.As they began to walk away, they heard her airy voice call out from behind them, her words carrying a rare soft warmth that opposed her tough exterior.

“I would love it if you guys showed up at my game tomorrow," she called, her smile evident even though they couldn't see her face.Though their heads weren’t facing her, both boys felt a giddy anticipation stir within them as they made their way off the court.

•

The next day, both boys arrived at the tennis court, their anticipation piling up with each step as they navigated through the bustling crowd. Their day had been a whirlwind of non Y/N tennis practice and classes, and they couldn't help but wonder if they should have skipped the latter as they scanned the packed arena. Coaches from various schools, students, and eager spectators filled every available space, their collective excitement palpable in the air.

After some searching, the boys eventually found two seats in the stands, settling into the middle row adorned in their red college tennis t-shirts. Mark nervously chewed on a churro, his heart racing as his anxiety starts to spike, as he awaited the start of the final game. Now while they boys were confident in Y/N's abilities, their nerves were stirred by the buzz surrounding her opponent, a formidable German player who had garnered quite a reputation.

Mark's hearts was beating fast as he fidgeted in his seat, his mind swirling with thoughts of the impending match. Haechan, ever the calming presence, turned to him, rubbing his back in a comforting gesture.

"Chill out bro, she'll do fine," Haechan reassured him with a laugh, reaching over to take a bite of Mark's churro. Mark offered a weak nod in response, his apprehension still evident despite his friend's attempt to ease his nerves.

"Dude, I know, but still," Mark sighed, his eyes glued to the court below as they waited for the match to begin, their hearts pounding in unison ready for the match to end before it even started. Both boys sat on the edge of their seats, their eyes glued to the court below, anxiety coursing through their veins as the announcer's voice resonated through the overpriced black speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to the 2023 women’s tennis final. Let's welcome to the court two formidable competitors tonight: representing the home team, we have the fiery powerhouse, Y/N L/N!”The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, and Mark and Haechan joined in enthusiastically, their voices ringing out amidst the excitement.

Their breath caught in their throats as they watched Y/N dash onto the court, a vision of athleticism and grace. She wore an all-white Adidas tennis dress, accented with a red bow that proudly displayed her school colors. Her hair was woven into an intricate braid, and her pristine white shoes hinted at the elegance she always brought onto the court. Clutching a slightly red racquet, which appeared to be brand new, Y/N's face radiated with a contagious smile, her confidence contagious as she waved to the crowd, her eyes locking onto Mark and Haechan with a warmth that sent a surge of excitement through them.

As the announcer introduced her opponent, Ingrid Schmidt from Germany, the cheers were more subdued. Ingrid, with her blonde bouncing ponytail and deep scowl, exuded an aura of intense determination that stood in stark contrast to Y/N's easy confidence.

The two girls approached the net, and Y/N extended her hand in a gesture of sportsmanship. As they shook hands, Y/N leaned in to whisper something in Ingrid's ear, a playful glint in her eye. Ingrid's reaction, a dismissive eye roll and a scoff, only fueled the intrigue, leaving Mark and Haechan to speculate on the nature of their exchange as the game started with competitive tension hanging in the air.

The tennis match unfolded like a symphony, with a flurry of powerful serves and lightning-fast volleys dancing across the court. Y/N and Ingrid engaged in a fierce battle, their movements a graceful fusion of athleticism and finesse. Each exchange was punctuated by blistering groundstrokes that landed with pinpoint accuracy, showcasing the players' unrivaled skill and determination.

Despite Ingrid's insane skill, it was evident to everyone watching that Y/N was simply in a league of her own. Mark watched in awe as Y/N moved across the court with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. With each swing of her racquet, she effortlessly unleashed a torrent of power and precision, her movements reminiscent of a prima ballerina performing Swan Lake, her ponytail bouncing with each graceful step.

"FUCK!" Ingrid yelled in frustration as Y/N unleashed a particularly devastating shot, causing Ingrid to slip up and miss her return.

"Code violation, Schmidt!" the announcer boomed, but Y/N merely smirked, her confidence unshaken as she watched her opponent falter. The boys could only watch in awe as the game resumed, Y/N's serve eliciting gasps of admiration from the crowd. It was a sight to behold, the ball soaring through the air with speedy grace and elegance that seemed almost surreal.

As the mix of cheers and chatter stretched across the court, the tension in the stadium reached a fever pitch. Despite Ingrid's valiant efforts, Y/N maintained an easy lead in points, inching closer and closer to victory with each passing moment. And finally, after a somewhat tough battle that left both players breathless, Y/N delivered the winning point, her triumph met with an eruption of applause and cheers from the crowd.

As Ingrid angrily beat her racket in defeat, Y/N let out a giddy scream of victory, her exhilaration contagious as she basked in the praises of the crowd. Mark and Haechan quickly made their way down to the court, eager to congratulate their friend on her well-deserved win, their hearts swelling with pride and admiration..

The boys begin talking over each other showering her in compliments. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. Haechan says. “Please do my balls like that next.” Y/N laughs as Mark elbows him- “No but seriously- Mark begins You were incredible today. I mean it wasn't even like tennis, it was an entirely different game.”

“You’re truly amazing.” Y/N smiles at them before embracing both of the boys. They both stand their surprised at the randomsudden affection.

“Thank you guys.” She says earnestly. Before reaching for mark’s phone

“Open this.” She states. Mark nods quickly entering his passcode.

“WAIT HOLD UP you’re giving him your phone number because he was glazing you but not me.” Haechan says almost pouting.

“No you idiot.” Y/N says. I’m having a party tonight a bunch of rich pricks and coaches are gonna be there, I thought I would invite you guys. the boys look at each other surprised before nodding.

“Dress nice please Minhyung and Donghyuck.” she says smiling, showing her teeth.

“WAIT YOU KNOW OUR NAMES???” the boys say at the same time surprised.

“Well yes why wouldn’t i..” the girl says tilting her head at their dumb question. “Well you never asked.” Haechan states and we don’t even go by our government names.” Mark finishes.

“i did a bit of research.” she smiles before someone calls her name. she waves a goodbye at the boys before jogging to a crowed calling her name.

“She’s so fucking weird, I know her pussy is crazy good.” Haechan says jokingly, as Mark watches her fade into a crowd of excited people.

•

Now despite being a college student, Mark harbored a distinct distaste to parties and overly large crowds. Haechan, his roommate, embodied the opposite end of the spectrum—a typical frat boy wannabe who attends all the biggest parties. Throughout their 3 years at college, Mark was convinced Haechan had attended every party every thrown on campus or off, a feat Mark found perplexing considering the consistency of his friend’s hangovers and yet his remarkable ability to maintain attendance in classes and excel at tennis.

Haechan sauntered into their shared college apartment’s living room, clad in a sky blue button-down polo paired nicely with khaki trousers that accentuated his well-defined thighs. He settled onto the couch beside Mark, his gaze eyeing Mark’s figure as the latter nervously tapped his foot. Mark, sporting a fitted long-sleeved button-down that showcased his growing biceps and snug blue jeans cinched with a belt and adorned with a silver chain, playfully punched his friend.

“Try-hard,” Haechan teased, eliciting a playful jab from Mark in response. “Ready to bounce?” Mark inquired, retrieving the keys from their weathered brown coffee table. With a swift exit from their apartment, they made their way to Mark’s black car, leading the way to the address provided by Y/N.

As the engine hummed softly, the boys lounged in the car, nodding along to the tunes dancing from the radio while engaging in casual banter. It was a familiar ritual, comfortablity filled the air between them. However, Haechan couldn't resist bringing up their upcoming tennis match.

"You're in for a challenge, Mark. Let's face it, you've never been able to beat me," Haechan teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Mark chuckled, a hint of defiance in his response. "Hey, I've been putting in the work. Don't be surprised if I give you a run for your money this time dickhead."

Haechan raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by Mark's sudden confidence. Their banter continued, laced with friendly jabs and laughter, each remark fueling their competitive spirits.

“Desperate for her number, huh?” Haechan retorted, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re the one talking about letting her mess with your balls, Hyuck.” Mark shoots back.

Their laughter once again fills the car as they continued to playfully joke with each other, the excitement of the evening's events adding an extra layeto their exchange. Finally, they arrived at their destination—a sprawling mansion adorned with luxurious sports cars lining the street.

After a brief struggle to find parking, they made their way inside, greeted by the pulsating beats of dance music and the buzz of animated conversations. The high-class surroundings dazzled them as they navigated through the crowd, their eyes drawn to the grandeur of the estate.

Amidst the sea of glamorous guests, they found themselves, settling into two chairs to get a full layout on the type of party the were at. Snacking on treats and sipping on beers, they exchanged jokes and observations, enjoying the rare opportunity for both of them to be at a party.

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to her, and both Mark and Haechan found themselves momentarily transfixed on the figure in front of them. Y/N emerged onto the dance floor, a vision of ethereal beauty that left them speechless. Her h/c hair, usually styled in a braid or ponytail, cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, adding to the enchantment of her presence. Clad in a stunning green floral dress that hugged her curves perfectly , the fabric shimmered softly under the glow of the lights, leaving an impression of effortless elegance.

Today, Y/N had adorned herself with a touch of makeup, enhancing her already captivating features. Dark and sleek eyeliner accentuated her mesmerizing doe eyes, while her long lashes fluttered with every movement, like butterfly wings. Her lips, painted a delicate shade of pink, appeared plump and inviting, complementing the subtle flush that graced her cheeks. Despite the challenge of dancing in heels, she moved with a grace that seemed otherworldly, just like how she looked when she played tennis. Absolutely fucking stunning.

As the music shifted to "Flashing Lights," her gaze met theirs, and with a subtle beckoning gesture, she invited them to join her on the dance floor. The boys, affected slightly by the buzz of their drinks and the allure of her presence, eagerly rose to their feet and made their way towards her.

“As i recall i know you love to show off”

Y/N greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes alight with mischief. "Well, look who decided to grace my little party with their presence," she remarked, her voice carrying a playful tone as she welcomed them into her world.

"Little?" Mark's voice squeaked incredulously. "I've seen so many famous tennis players, 'little' my ass. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at Mark’s remark. “Excuse me for trying to be a bit humble then,” she replied, her laughter filling the air as her hips swayed to the beat of the music. Taking both boys by the hand, she pulled them into a lively dance, their movements synchronized effortlessly.

"But I never thought you'd take it this far,"

Haechan’s eyes fixed on Y/N, not being able to hold backing on complimenting her. "You look really good, Y/N," he remarked, his admiration evident in his gaze.

“What do i know”? (flashing lights)”

“What do i know? (flashing lights)”

"Thanks," Y/N replied with a smile, her eyes flickering between the two admittedly handsome boys. "You guys clean up nicely as well," she added, a genuine warmth in her voice that sent a flush to both of their cheeks.

As the music boomed around them, they danced in perfect harmony, their laughter mingling with the beat. Y/N's eyes danced between Mark and Haechan, a playful glint in her gaze as she observed their lidded expressions.

"You guys aren't half bad dancers," she teased, her words punctuated by their shared laughter.

"I know it's been awhile, sweetheart. We hardly talk. I was doing my thing."

The boys shared a playful giggle as they took turns spinning Y/N around the dance floor, their laughter mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music. With each twirl, they savored the fleeting moments, their movements synchronized. As the music reached an end, Y/N leaned in close, whispering something in each of their ears, causing their faces to flush with a shared understanding.

Grabbing their hands with an air of determination, Y/N led them through a pathway that wound its way through the backyard of the estate, the fading music serving as a backdrop to their little secret adventure. As they emerged from the wooded area, the tranquil expanse of the beach stretched out before them, the gentle lapping of the waves providing a soothing melody to their senses.

Taking seats on chairs arranged by the shore, the trio settled into a comfortable silence, the cool sea breeze mingling with the warmth of their shared company. Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief, couldn't resist a playful jab at their indulgence in alcohol before their upcoming games.

"Drinking is kind of stupid when you both have games tomorrow," she teased, her gaze flickering between the boys. Tempted to flick their foreheads for this.

Haechan rolled his eyes, retrieving a cigarette and offering one to Mark before lighting it for him. Y/N raised an eyebrow at the gesture, declining the offer with a faux disgusted giggle.

"Hell no, those are nasty," she exclaimed, her voice light hearted.

Haechan shrugged nonchalantly, taking a drag from his cigarette. As Y/N e/c orbs peer into Mark’s. “That’s exactly why y’alls stamina is so shit. You’re killing your precious lungs.”

Mark chuckled at the girl reprimanding their bad habits, he crosses his legs as he blew smoke into the air. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replied, his tone laced with amusement before moving to another subject.

"So, why exactly did you bring us here?" Mark inquired, his gaze drifting towards the ocean as Y/N turned to face the vast expanse before them. His heart skipped a beat as he admired her beautiful side profile, captivated by her pure natural allure. With a shrug, Y/N remained silent, leaving an air of intrigue hanging between them as they all savored the serenity of the moment.

"I dunno, it was getting loud over there, and I didn't wanna fake socialize with people who aren't better than me," Y/N explained with a smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously as the boys chuckled at her honesty. It was a classic Y/N move, prioritizing authenticity over superficiality.

"So, you're hanging with us because we're on your level now?" Haechan teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed Y/N's reaction.

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "Nah, you guys are just decent company at times," she replied lighthearted, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them easily. As the three go quiet again, Haechan felt a surge of boldness wash over him. Whether it was the influence of the alcohol, Y/N’s captivating beauty, or the buzz from the cigarette, he blurted out the idea of Y/N coming over to their apartment later that night.

Y/N's soft giggles filled the air, and Mark groaned inwardly, already bracing himself for the inevitable rejection. To their surprise, however, Y/N nodded in agreement.

"Oh, what the hell, why not?" she replied with a shrug, her playful demeanor sparking a newfound excitement in the boys.

"But you try anything funny, and I will beat you to death with my racquet , and I mean that," she added with an scary grin, her warning laced with a hint of seriousness that sent a shiver down the boys' spines. With nervous laughter, they led her back to their car, their minds buzzing with anticipation for the night ahead.

•

The car ride was enveloped in a tranquil silence, the soft strains of "Good Days" gently filling the airwaves as Mark navigated the familiar route to their off-campus apartment. As they pulled into the parking spot, Haechan gracefully exited the passenger seat, extending a courteous gesture to Y/N who had opted to sit in the back. "After you, milady," he quipped, offering his hand to assist her as they made their way towards the apartment.

Mark fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door, gesturing inside as he ushered Y/N in. "Welcome to our humble abode," he declared, a hint of pride evident in his voice as Y/N surveyed the surprisingly tidy surroundings.

The apartment exuded a cozy charm, with vinyl records and album posters adorning the walls, interspersed with a smattering of tennis plaques and a vintage karaoke machine nestled in the corner. A case of beer awaited in the living room, a silent invitation to unwind and enjoy the evening.

"Wow, it's really nice in here," Y/N remarked, slipping off her heels and settling onto the inviting gray couch.

The boys followed suit, with Mark offering Y/N a beer, which she graciously accepted. As they cracked open their beverages, the atmosphere relaxed further, the alcohol warming their throats and each others presences filling the room with warmth.

Seated on the couch, they engaged in casual conversation, with Y/N initiating a series of random personal questions that sparked laughter and semi-detailed answers. Before long, the effects of the alcohol began to take hold, their inhibitions loosening as they found themselves sprawled on the floor, Y/N playfully investigating them from her perch on the couch. As the night unfolded, they embraced the weird intimacy of their shared moments, the alcohol-induced haze adding to the boldness of their hangout.

"How long have you known each other?" Y/N inquired, her curiosity piqued as she leaned back on the couch, her eyes flickering between Mark and Haechan.

"Since we were 12," Mark replied, launching into a detailed account of their shared history, recounting the years spent at a preppy all-boys boarding school.

“It makes sense, you guys seem really close. Not gonna lie, I thought you were boyfriends at first,” Y/N admitted with a half-serious tone, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “And as much as I tease you guys, I’m not a homewrecker,” she added, her words causing both boys to flush crimson and nearly choke on their beers.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Mark interjected hastily, wiping his beer-covered mouth with the back of his hand. Despite his initial embarrassment, Haechan couldn't help but giggle as a memory from a few years ago resurfaced.

"Well, actually..." Haechan began, but Mark caught wind of what he was about to say and attempted to interject. However, Y/N's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned forward, her attention solely focused on Haechan as she urged him to continue, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Well, a few years ago, Mark needed help learning how to kiss a girl, right?" Haechan started, prompting an audible groan from Mark, who buried his face in a nearby pillow, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Haechan continued, his laughter slightly slurred from the alcohol. "So, he asked for my help," he admitted, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as Mark retaliated with a punch to his arm.

"Markie over here didn't lose his virginity until he was like 20, and he definitely was late on kissing girls," Haechan teased, earning another embarrassed groan from Mark. "So, around this time, we were about 17 or 18-ish, and little Markie here comes to me, all upset, saying some girl from his class asked him out, but he's nervous because he's never kissed a girl before."

Y/N nodded, intrigued by the unfolding story, her eyes flickering between Haechan and Mark. "So, we sat in my bedroom, watching kissing videos on fucking pornhub, weird, right?" Haechan chuckled, glancing at Mark, who looked away in embarrassment.

"And then I told him to apply that to me," Haechan continued, his tone tinged with amusement. "And we kissed. He actually wasn't too bad, surprisingly, a bit better than some of the girls I've been with," he confessed honestly raising his arms up , chuckling as Mark reprimanded him for telling the story.

"See, I knew there was something between you two," Y/N remarked with a giggle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned back on the couch, reveling in the shared intimacy of their conversation.

“Ugh, it was one time. I’d rather have a tennis ball hit at my balls full speed than kiss him again.” Mark whines as Haecahn laughs at the boy.

For a minute the room went silent at the and Y/N stared at both of the boys mischievously before sitting up on the couch and patting each spot next to her.

“Come here,” she says, eyeing both of the boys as they both perk up in synchronicity.

“Which one of us?”

Y/N just shrugs as both boys quickly join her on the couch.

The tension in the air is electrifying as Y/N turns to face Haechan. His big brown eyes are beautiful and full of mischief; she’s never been this close to him before, and she can see the little moles on his face, which fit his golden skin so well. She leans in, landing a kiss on his soft, plump lips. She whines into this kiss, slightly tugging at his hair as he squeaks at the sudden pain, which felt so good at the same time. She can taste the cigarette smoke on his breath with the combo of beer and peppermint he and Mark popped in the midst of their earlier conversation. The taste was so addicting that she almost didn’t want to pull away.

Mark is sitting on the other side of her, watching everything go down. His heart is beating out of his chest, and he feels blood rush down his pants. He doesn’t know if he feels jealously or turned on, maybe a combo of both, but holy shit, this has to be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Haechan whines as his eyes flutter open, his eyelashes tickling Y/N’s cheek as he slowly pulls away , watching as Y/N turns to mark.

“Don’t think I forgot you, Markie.”

The boy blushes at the nickname he’s never heard her say before, and he can feel himself getting more and more antsy as she leans in, crashing his lips into hers.

Not to much surprise, Mark was way more of a messier kisser than Haechan. Maybe it was just desperation, but Mark was practically eating Y/N’s mouth, devouring her entirely. Haechan giggled watching Mark try and be in control, only for Y/N to bite his lips, causing him to yelp a bit as his pink lips open slightly and Y/N takes this opportunity to stick her tongue in his mouth. After awhile, Mark gets a hang of it, and their tongues dance in each other's mouths, swapping spit that tasted of alcoholic peppermint nicotine, and cherry lipgloss which only made them feel more dizzy.

She threads her slender hands through Mark’s pitch-black hair. Tugging it like she did Hyuck’s causing Mark to moan loudly into her mouth. Y/N giggles against his mouth before slowly separating a trail of spit, connecting their mouths together.

“Okay no homo, but that was so fucking hot,” Haechan says, staring at the two lust evident in his lidded eyes as they all giggle at his remark.

“Come a bit closer. Y/N commands softly but sternly. Both boys quickly obey, not questioning her intentions one bit.

Y/N turns again to kiss Haechan, he eagerly engulfs her lips, as Y/N feels a strong hand trailing her body, to her surprise not wanting to be left out Mark’s hand is swirling on her thigh, hiking up her floral green dress before tracing his hand around her whole body finding her neck.

Y/N moans from the stimulation of Haechan’s tongue, hungrily exploring her mouth and then desperate touch of Mark’s finger tips surveying her neck. Mark then latches his mouth on Y/N’s neck, causing an high pitched moan causing her to pull away a bit from Haechan. The slow peppered kisses turn into biting as Mark sucks little mark’s on her neck (lol). Haechan grabs her thighs, before moving close to kiss her deeper. He can feel her mouth vibrate in his as his friend leaves trails all along her long neck.

Haechan being competitive person he was, moves his hand up closer, finding her soaked black panties and trailing his fingers around hee clit slowly from the outside. Y/N arches her back in pleasure unintentionally moving away from Mar’s assault on her neck.

“Holy Shit, you’re so fucking wet.” Haechan stammers in awe. Y/N needly whines as Haechan moves his fingers a little bit more.

"I can’t believe you’re getting off to this; you’re so weird.” He says, laughing, as she rolls her eyes too horny to argue.

Mark, who is just as competitive, was raking his brain trying to figure out how to one up on Haechan. He begins to move his hand down from her neck, to her dress so he can grope her tits. Before he could get a chance, Y/N swiftly pushed the boys back, seizing their hands of in a sudden, decisive move. Their faces morphed into surprise and confusion , gazing at her with pleading, puppy-like expressions.

She coos as them opening her mouth to speak, her throat slightly hoarse from their activities. Turning to Mark, she plants a gentle kiss on his lips, then repeats the gesture with Haechan. With a smirk on her face, she draws both of their lips close to hers, initiating a three-way , all their lips drunkily taking each other's in, in a blissful haze. They weren’t worried about anything in the world other than tasting each other. Moans escape their lips, the sounds were so lewd, but melodic at the same time. Their tongues poke out exploring one another eagerly, mingling saliva as they hungrily devour each other's essence.

Y/N leans back, her eyes half-lidded, savoring the scene unfolding before her. In a sneaky movement, she removes herself from the embrace of the two boys. Watching as, the brown and black-haired boy’s become lost in each other's lips, completely oblivious to the fact that Y/N is no longer in the middle.

Sensations of warmth and arousal intensify within her as she continues to observe the scene before her, slowly biting her lips lustfully. With each passing moment, their kisses grow more fervent, each boy trying to fight for dominance. Haechan emerges victorious, asserting his control over Mark with a deep moan inducing kiss. His fingers tangle in Mark's soft hair, eliciting raspy moans of desire from the other boy. Haechan responds with a throaty groan, deepening their kiss with an insatiable hunger to please.

Y/N gasps softly, as she moves her hand to her black panties, slowly sticking her hand in and playing with her clit area as she softly pants, watching the scene in front of her.

The boys come to an erupt stop, as their ears hear the melodic voice of what seems to be an angel in disguise. They open their eyes and look at each other, both of the boys eyes were blown out, their pupils huge and lips swollen as they back away from each other. They turn their attention to the girl laying back on the couch in-between them, they eyes follow her delicate fingers, watching her play with her soaked cunt caused by them. A groan is drawled out of both of the boys, both of them hard as they feel their pants strain against them.

Mark's gaze scans over Y/N's form, taking in every detail before exchanging a knowing glance with Haechan, silently conveying his intentions. With a mischievous grin, he moves towards Y/N, prompting her to let out an unexpected shriek as he scoops her up into his arms.

As Mark carries her, Haechan follows closely behind, their footsteps echoing through the hallway as they make their way to Haechan's room. Haechan throws open the door, and Mark gently sets Y/N onto the bed. Y/N confidently giggles, scooting back against some soft pillows as Mark gets up to close the bedroom door.She looks up and down at the boys, before clearing her throat.

“I’m in charge. I hope you guys know that,” she says, crossing her arms as Mark joins Haechan and her on the bed.

“And for the love of God, use condoms; I don’t know where your dick’s have been.” She snickers as Haechan points to the dresser next to her, signaling her to open it.

She opens a brown drawer to find a pack of condoms before tossing them on the bed.

“How often does this happen? going after the same girl, I mean?” Y/N says, giggling.

“Not as often as you think” Haechan says, as Mark nods, saying they tend to have different types.

Y/N hums looking at them.

“What makes me so different?”

The way she said it was so sultry, almost like it was a challenge, which, for some reason, turned on the two even more.

“Please let us show you.” Mark says, inching closer, and Y/N nods at the eager boy, patting his head.

“Be my fucking guest.”. she replies shortly.

She slowly pulls off her dress, revealing the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tits sit perfectly, and she turns to Haechan as she hears a loud groan from him. She giggles, slowly taking off her pants, getting a gasp from Mark.

“Ugh, Y/N, please stop teasing us.” Mark says strained. His eyes were dark and desperate, as the girl ahushed him before flinging her panties at him. Catching them he brings his nose up to the piece fabric taking in the scent and groaning.

“You’re such a freak,” Y/N says, laughing before turning her attention to the two boys equally.

“Strip,” she says in one word, and in a whirlwind, both of the boys are sitting on the fluffy, king-size bed naked in front of her.

“Fuck.” Y/N mutters, looking at the two.The vigorous practice, plus the diet and gym routine she had given both of the boys, had them looking too fucking good. Both of their bodies were so toned and sculpted, with flat tummies and abs that would make any Greek god jealous. Y/N let out a small moan at this beautiful sight.

“Eager, much?.” Haechan cheekily says, eyeing her.

“Don’t get too cocky; remember, I’m the one calling the shots.” She says she is crawling towards the boy, grabbing his chin and squeezing is cheeks. Haechan nods. gazing at the girl, not even wanting to argue with the beautiful goddess in front of him. She then turns to face Mark, grabbing his chin as well with her free hand.

“Show me how bad you fucking want me,” she whispers loud enough for them to hear.

All of a sudden, hands are everywhere, grabbing at everything. The room is filled with desperation, sweat, and melodic sounds as both boys explore Y/N’s bodies. Their eyes took everything in as their fingers delved into every part of her body before Haechan decided to sink a slender finger in her cunt, receiving a shaky moan.

“Shush, baby, it’s okay; we’ve got you,” Mark says.

“Mmhm, we are going to take such good care of you.” Haechan adds, slowly pumping his finger in and out, feeling it get wetter and wetter.

“Fuckk, you’re so fucking wet.” Mark says watching as his best friend's fingers go in an out-of Y/N’s puffy cunt, he can’t help but slowly rub himself at the sight.

“Shut up, I’m in charge.” Y/N huffs out before being shushed.

“Oh, please, you love this; you’re so fucking wet from watching me and my best friend play with each other and play with you.” Haechan hums, adding an extra finger and slightly speeding up.

“You’re going to be so good for me and Markie, hm?” Haechans says, watching as the girl's eyes roll to the back of her head, slowly muttering a defeated, “Mhmm.”

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting you to give up this easily, he says before turning his attention to Mark. “Quit playing with your dick and join me.” He scoffs as Mark’s hands glide against Y/N’s tits, flicking and toying with her nipples, listening to the sounds of her moans like it’s the most beautiful song he’s ever heard.

He lowers his mouth to her perfect tits, clasping his mouth on the buds before sucking rhythmically. Y/N’s back arches, her cunt clenching around Haechan's fingers.

“Fuck Mark, keep doing that; her little cunt is squeezing my fingers so tight; fuckk, I bet it feels so good.”

Mark moans at his friends words as he sucks harder and plays with the other tit in his hand.

“Yeah, good boy, keep doing that.” Haechan says watching at how both Y/N and Mark react to the praise he gave Mark.

Mark groans at the praise, eyeing Haechan as intensifies his pace, eliciting louder and more desperate cries from Y/N. Her orgasm approaching rapidly, her moans escalating in getting higher and higher. However, just as she fills her organs about to wash over, Haechan abruptly stops, leaving Y/N to bolt up in frustration. "Ah! Why did you stop?" she groans, her expression a mix of defeat and longing, her eyes pleading with Haechan as Mark retreats, creating space between them.

“Because I don’t want you to cum yet,” he simply says.

“You need to cum on one of our cocks.” He adds, causing both Mark and Y/N to lewdly gasp.“Our Markie has been so good, don’t you think?” Haechan says, looking at y/n, her eyes sparking as she nods.

“Why don’t you give me a little treat? You know he’s been practicing so hard just to get your attention, just to get your number.” He trails off, and I think he deserves this“.

Y/N nods slowly, getting off the bed, and finding her way on her knees. She watches as Mark turns to face the edge of the bed, eyes looking down at her, and she swears she can see his heart being out of his chest.

“H-Hey, Y/N” Mark stutters lustfully.

“Hi Markie,” Y/N says just as lustfully before tracing a hand on his thigh, slowly grabbing his hard cock and pumping it.

Mark immediately reacts, bucking his hips as he lets out groans at the sensation.

“Open your hand.” Haechan says to Y/N as he sits next to Mark.

The girl obeys; opening her hands as Haechan spats in them. Mark tilts his head quizzically, then he feels his best friend's warm spit on his cock being pumped by the girl of any persons dreams, and he can’t help but absolutely lose his mind in the moment.

Haechan closes the small distance between him and Mark, his breath hot against his ear as he murmurs words of praise and desire, fueling the intensity of this scene. With a sense of urgency, he pulls Mark into a passionate kiss, their lips meeting in an electrifying embrace. The intensity of their kiss sparks a reaction from Y/N, who widens are mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip of Mark's cock, sending shivers coursing through his body as she begins to softly suck.

Breaking away from the kiss, Mark guides Y/N's flowy hair, urging her to go deeper, whimpering cutely in the proces. She complies, knowing exactly how to please him. Mark's head falls back, his hair disheveled, strands clinging to his forehead like he's just emerged from a heated tennis match. Occasionally, his gaze meets Y/N's big, doe-like eyes as she works her magic, causing a surge of arousal mixed with a pang of overwhelmingness to ripple through him. At this point Mark unable to tear his gaze away, even as the heat of the moment threatens to overwhelm him.

As Mark's hips buck forward, Y/N's hand travels up Haechan's thigh, her fingers finding his thick hard cock, guiding it with deliberate precision. "Holy fuck, this slut knows how to handle cocks," Haechan moans appreciatively, his voice thick with desire as he encourages her to quicken her pace. “Maybe tennis isn’t the only thing you’re good at- He stammers barely finishing his sentence so loss in pleasure. Y/N groans around Mark’s cock, as she can sense him getting closer by the twitching of his legs.

Sensing that he’s about to cum, she takes her hand off of Haechan, focusing all her attention on Mark. His exclamations of "fuck," "shit," and "dude" fill the air, punctuating the intensity of the moment as he edges closer to climax.

She takes him in the back of her throat as she feels his cock twitch in her mouth, releasing a slightly sweet and salty thick liquid, which she swallows half of before getting off her knees and turning to kiss Haechan, Mark’s cum still in her mouth.

Although he just came, Mark can feel himself getting hard all over again watching Y/N and his best friend swap his cum in their mouths before they swallow, it backing away from each other, smirking.

“Good job, Markie." she says pinching the boy's cheeks before she feels two bodies pin her down.

“Ah, we aren’t done with you just yet.” Haechan says as Y/N gulps a bit.

“Remember I said I wanted you to cum all over our cocks?”Y/N nods as Haechan smiles wickedly, looking at Mark. “So that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

“Mark, sit and watch how I tame this slut.” Mark nods obediently as he watches Y/N whimper at the degrading nickname. He watches as Haechan quickly slips a condom on and positions himself right in between Y/N’s sticky thighs.

“Beg for it,” Haechan says, looking down at the girl.

“Oh, cmon, Donghyuck, stop it.” She sassily says using his full name.

This causes Haechan to softly grab the girl's neck and getting near her ear.

“Be a fucking good girl and beg; you know you fucking want it.” He demands sternly, signaling that he is not playing any games. Y/N gulps before opening her mouth to beg.

“Please, hyuckie, I need your cock so bad, please fuck.” She breathed out slightly embarrassed, causing Haechan to evilly giggle at her submission.

“Fuck, I wish you could be like this all the time. He says as he slowly slips the tip in, causing the two to both moan.

“Oh fuck, this hurts.” Y/N whimpers, her eyes watering, as Mark glides his hand over her hair, playing with it, hushing her and whispering sweet words.

“Oh, cmon, you can’t take it,” Haechan says, slowly lowering himself more as he feels her tight pussy squeeze around him.

“See, you’re squeezing around me, and I can feel you getting wetter, you fucking love it,” he says, bottoming out and pushing his fat cock into her.

She moans, almost crying, as Mark continues to play with her hair, trying to calm her down as Haechan begins to go at a steady pace.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight and wet, you’re swallowing my fucking cock whole.”

Y/N moans in esctacy as the pain fades into pure pleasure.

“S-sooo good, hyuckie.” She purrs, her eyes squeezing closed .

“Aht, open those pretty eyes doll, Haechan says, reaching down to grab her face.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you, slut.” He ordered causing Y/N to gush around him, only makes him speed up.

“Yeah, you like that? You like when I degrade you while my soft little best friend coddles you, hm?” Y/N whimpers, shaking her head and babbling incoherent nonsense as Mark pulls her hair a bit.“Use your words when Haechan is talking to you baby.” Mark says, surprising both Haechan & Y/N.

“Y-yes, sir,” Y/N stammers.

“Well, who are you talking to, Haechan or Me?” Mark says sternly tugging a bit more as she utters both softly.

“Yeah, that’s our good girl,” Mark says, feeling this surge of confidence out of nowhere.

Mark watches as Haechan continues to fuck Y/Ns cunt, igniting a pang of jealousy within him. He wants more than anything to feel her warm cunt coating his cock. He groans at the thought of it, wishing he could trade places with Haechan.

Haechan laughs, looking at Mark’s desperate state, before raising an eyebrow practically reading the boy’s mind .

“You want a turn?”

Mark eagerly nods as, slowly pulls out of Y/N, she moans at the absence.

“Oh, don’t be so sad, doll; Markie just wants a turn.” Hyuck winks before moving so Mark can get in between her thighs. Mark shuffles off the bed before looking at Y/N’s needy state.

There was something so hot about seeing their arrogant, sassy “coach” absolutely fucking desperate. Her eyes were glazed and wet as a few tears stained her beautiful cheeks; the makeup she had on from the party was smeared; her lips plump and swollen; and in the dim bedroom light, he could make out the marks and hickeys from earlier on her neck.

His eyes trailed down to her cunt; it’s still wet and waiting to be touched. He notices that it’s a bit puffy and swollen from Haechan’s assault on it.

Mark groans, biting his lip before hovering over the girl closer.

“Hey!” he says looking down into her beautiful eyes.

“Hi Markie.” She gives me a half-smile, her eyes pleading to be used.

Before she could say anything else, she yelps as she felt herself being flipped over on her stomach. Mark quickly grabbing her hair into a make shift pony, as she arched back from pleasure and pain.

Haechan whistles as he makes a comment not realizing Mark was such an “ass guy” Mark ignored him and rubs y/n’s ass groaning before giving a small slap, she moans enjoying it more than she’d like to admit.

“You like that, hm?” Mark says, using his surge of confidence

“Mayb-.” Her sentence is cut off as she feels Mark slide into her wet cunt. She moans at how deep he feels. Haechan may be thick, but Mark’s cock was so long, and Y/N swears she can feel it hitting every spot as he begins to thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He groans, pushing her face down into the pillow.

“Shhhhh, be quiet, baby,” Mark says, speeding up absolutely loss in bliss.

Haechan, on the other hand, was totally enjoying the show; he decided to let his friend take over because, for some reason, he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time something like that happened. So he sat on the other end of the bed, pumping his cock, watching his best friend fuck Y/N so desperately.

Haechan pumps his thick cock faster his tip is bright red and his hands slightly slippery, a mix of spit, cum, and the wetness from being Y/N’s warm cunt. Haechan moans, eyes glued at the sight.

Mark can feel himself getting closer and closer as he speeds up.“F-fuck mark, I'm going to cum please, please.” Y/N whimpers into the pillow; they can almost barely make out her garbled speech as Mark speeds up even faster. He reaches his hand to toy with her clit, causing her to cry into the pillow in pleasure.

“Fuck yes, cum all over my cock, baby, show me how good we make you feel,” Mark moans, feeling his orgasm catch up as well.

With one hand Haechan lifts Y/N’s head up from the pillow as he feverishly pumps his thick cock. Reaching his breaking point , he groans her name, glazing her face in his warm cum. This in turn caused Y/N to clench around Mark’s cock even more. Mark began to quickly rub on Y/N’s swollen clit area as she lets out a string of strained moans cumming all over him.

She clenches one more time around his cock due to the overestimation, which in turn causes Mark to throw his head back, cumming with a loud moan.

The trio are all frozen for a bit before Mark slips his now soft cock out of Y/N. He takes the cum filled condom and sits it on the floor as Haechan gets up and grabs a t-shirt.

“Y/N, don’t move,” they both say at the same time. Mark leaves the room for a second, as Haechan gently begins to wipe his cum off her face.

“You know you’re very pretty,” Haechan says, staring at her. Although tired, the girl laughs, stating, I know, and thanking Haechan for cleaning her up. He nods as he watches as Mark comes back in with some clothes and some water bottles.He hands a bottle to Haechan before handing Y/N some of his own spare boxers and one of Haechan’s old t-shirts.

“I got them right out of the dryer; they’re super clean.” Y/N thanks the boy before changing in front of them.

If they thought she was beautiful before, something about both of the boys seeing her in their clothes made her 100 times more beautiful.

“So, are you just going to stare, or are we going to cuddle or something?” Y/N says, giggling

“I didn’t take you as a cuddler.” Haechan’s mutters

“Okay, and I didn’t expect to have a three-way with you losers; guess today is just full of surprises.” They all chuckle as they opt to all go into Mark’s room since Haechan’s sheets were soiled from their little activities.

Hand in hand, they walk the short stride to Mark’s room before they all settle under the covers. as Mark puts on some random tennis match.

“So, who’s a better kisser?” Y/N half jokingly teases, looking at Mark as he blushes.

“No comment,” he says, embarrassed, as Haechan laughs at the two.

“Sooo, can we get your number now? I mean, we literally just fucked.” Haechan says sneakily.

Y/N laughs before sinking under the covers.

“Nope, whoever wins the game tomorrow, remember, ahh, or should I say today?” Y/N evilly laughs, looking at the clock in Mark’s room, which reads 3:35 a.m..

“I would get some rest tonight, just saying.”

Both boys eyes widen in shock as their eyes land on the clock, groaning at the time.

“Remember, boys, this is a game about winning the points that actually matter.” Y/N softly says before closing her eyes to go to bed.

Leaving both boys sitting up to rack through their brains. How the fuck are they going to beat one another?

•

HIIII my first full fic LOL!! i’m oddly so proud of it 😭😭😭 i loved challengers and immediately had to do a markhyuck version !!! if u haven’t seen this movie pls go see it LOL!!💞💞☺️

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withlovealwqys · 1 year ago

Text

melting me softly

summery:

after her exchange year she just wants to have the best time with her friends. The last thing she was looking for was love.

after his accident at the championship qualifications life was living hell. The last thing he was looking for was love.

start: soon

Introduction part1 | part2

1. she’s back

taglist open <3

@peachyproductions @lhcread @peachyproductions @thisisnotjacinta @liliansun @neozon3nha @lovesuhng @n0hyuck @jiawji @gomdojun @jinnieboosworld @nappywoo @yyangj3lly

146 notes · View notes

remdreamed · 10 days ago

Text

Of Secrets and Salves

pairing: mark lee x lee donghyuck/haechan

genre: bl, romance (?), fantasy

word count: 13k

summary: Donghyuck, a commoner with hands calloused from years of healing, crossed paths with the stranger under the weight of a shared, silent understanding. What began with an offer of salves and fleeting words bloomed into something far more delicate—a bond neither fully comprehended but both would carry, quietly, within them.

masterlist next

The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the port market of Emeria. The bustling docks had quieted down slightly, with fewer people walking around now that most of the merchants had packed up for the night. But for Donghyuck, the work never seemed to end.

He was wiping down the counters of the small apothecary stall his family ran when he heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. A glance over his shoulder confirmed who it was—Youngho, the high-ranked knight he’d known for years. Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face neutral. He wasn’t sure why he always felt a little nervous around Youngho, but he couldn’t deny the respect he had for the older man.

"How’s the stall?" Youngho asked, leaning against one of the wooden supports of the stall.

"It’s fine," Donghyuck replied casually, though his mind was elsewhere. The reality of running a small business, with no significant wealth to speak of, weighed heavily on him. The herbal salves and medicines they sold were just enough to make ends meet, and his parents, though wise and experienced, were starting to show their age. They were tired, and Donghyuck knew it was only a matter of time before they couldn’t work as hard anymore. He needed something more—he needed to be able to provide for his family.

"Still thinking about the Championship, huh?" Youngho’s voice brought Donghyuck out of his thoughts.

Donghyuck hesitated before nodding. The Championship, an annual tournament where commoners could fight for the chance to be knighted, was a brutal event. It was bloody, dangerous, and often resulted in death, but it was the only opportunity for someone like Donghyuck—a commoner with no noble blood—to gain the prestige and title he needed to support his family.

"I need to do this, Youngho," Donghyuck said quietly, his voice firm but filled with an undercurrent of desperation. "If I can win, I can provide for my family. I can finally stop worrying about how we’re going to survive when my parents can’t work anymore. And my younger siblings need me."

Youngho looked at him with a mixture of concern and sadness in his eyes. The older knight had known Donghyuck for many years and had watched him grow up in the port market, tending to the stall while secretly harboring dreams of becoming a knight himself. Donghyuck wasn’t the best when it came to swordsmanship, but he had grit. He had determination. And it was that determination that kept pushing him forward, even when others told him it was too dangerous.

"I understand," Youngho said after a long pause. "But the Championship... it’s too dangerous, Donghyuck. You’re not ready. You’re still not as skilled as the other competitors. You could die out there, and I can’t stand the thought of that happening to you."

Donghyuck clenched his fists, the familiar burning desire to prove himself flaring up inside him. "I’m getting better. I train every day, with or without your help. You’ve taught me a lot, Youngho, and I know you’ve tried to protect me from the dangers, but I can’t live in fear anymore. I have to do this."

Youngho’s gaze softened, but there was a firmness in his words. "I know you want to help your family, but there’s more than one way to do that. You don’t have to risk your life. You don’t have to fight in that tournament."

Donghyuck shook his head, his determination unwavering. "The Championship is the only way. It’s the only way I’ll get the respect I need. I need to prove myself to everyone."

Youngho opened his mouth to protest, but then he seemed to think better of it. He sighed, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Just... be careful. I’ve seen enough of those who have come and gone. Don’t make this a path you regret."

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

The next evening, after closing the stall, Donghyuck made his way to the clearing just outside the market, where he and Youngho had been secretly training for the past few months. The clearing was hidden behind thick trees, far enough away from the city that no one would spot them.

Donghyuck stood still for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he gripped the hilt of his practice sword. He wasn’t the strongest, but he had speed, and he had learned to use his agility to his advantage. He wasn’t going to win by sheer strength alone; it was his quick reflexes and mind that would give him the edge.

Tonight, Youngho would push him harder than usual. Donghyuck had learned to expect this—a harsh training session that would test his limits. Youngho had been trying to make him understand that brute force wasn’t everything. Donghyuck had to be smart about this. He had to learn how to outmaneuver his opponents, how to anticipate their moves.

"Are you ready?" Youngho asked, his voice calm but authoritative.

Donghyuck nodded, his eyes steely with determination. "Let’s do it."

“Remember, Donghyuck,” Youngho said, his voice low but firm, “it’s not just about strength. It’s about reading the opponent. Know when to attack and when to defend. And more importantly, stay light on your feet.”

Donghyuck nodded, sweat already starting to bead on his forehead despite the cool evening air. His grip on the practice sword tightened, and he crouched slightly, preparing himself for the sparring session.

Youngho made the first move, his sword flashing forward in a swift, controlled thrust. Donghyuck barely managed to block the attack, the force of Youngho’s strike pushing him back a few steps. The impact stung his hands and arms, but he held firm.

“Good,” Youngho’s voice was steady as he quickly followed up with a series of rapid strikes, each one forcing Donghyuck to move faster, his muscles burning with the effort to keep up.

Donghyuck sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a slash aimed at his ribs. His feet dug into the earth as he pivoted, feeling the natural rhythm of the ground beneath him. But before he could regain his balance, Youngho was already on him, his sword coming down in a vertical arc.

Donghyuck’s eyes widened. There was no way he could block it head-on.

He ducked low, the blade missing by inches, and rolled to the side, his bare feet scraping against the dirt as he sprang back to his feet. His breath came quicker now, but his mind was sharp, adrenaline coursing through him. He wasn’t the best—yet—but he was getting better.

“Don’t let your feet get heavy,” Youngho’s voice rang out again, cutting through Donghyuck’s thoughts. “You have to move like water. Be fluid. Think fast.”

Donghyuck didn’t respond. He couldn’t afford to speak right now. He had to focus.

The two circled each other, the crackling of the dry grass underfoot the only sound between them. Donghyuck’s feet shifted, his body low, watching Youngho’s every movement like a hawk. He was waiting for the right moment.

Then, Youngho struck again, aiming for Donghyuck’s side with a quick lunge. But this time, Donghyuck was ready. He twisted his body at the last second, catching Youngho’s sword with his own in a block that reverberated up his arms. He slid to the side, using the momentum to bring his sword up in a sharp, controlled arc toward Youngho’s exposed flank.

The older knight barely managed to parry the blow in time, their swords clashing with a harsh clang that sent a jolt through Donghyuck’s arms. His heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t back down. He’d felt it—his strike had connected in a way that made Youngho falter, if only for a moment.

“Better,” Youngho said, his voice softening with approval. “You’re improving.”

Donghyuck grinned despite the sweat pouring down his face. His feet were aching from the constant movement, but the small victory kept him pushing forward. He wasn’t just fighting for a title, for knighthood—he was fighting for his family’s future.

Youngho came at him again, more aggressive this time. His sword moved with blinding speed, a blur of steel aimed at Donghyuck’s chest. Donghyuck barely had time to react, ducking low and using his momentum to spring forward, catching Youngho’s sword with his own. They grappled for a moment, their swords locked, each trying to overpower the other.

Donghyuck’s breath came in ragged gasps as he focused on his footing, pushing his body against Youngho’s strength. He couldn’t match the older knight in raw power, but he was quicker—he had to be.

With a burst of speed, Donghyuck shifted his weight, pushing forward and breaking the lock. Before Youngho could recover, Donghyuck struck, his wooden sword aimed at Youngho’s side.

But just as the sword was about to make contact, Youngho’s blade intercepted it with a crash. He knocked Donghyuck’s weapon out of his hands, sending it flying across the clearing, and before Donghyuck could react, Youngho’s sword was pressed gently against his throat.

Donghyuck froze, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

“You’re getting better,” Youngho said again, though there was no amusement in his voice, only a quiet pride. He lowered his sword, giving Donghyuck a moment to catch his breath. “But you’re still too eager. You still don’t know when to stop.”

Donghyuck wiped the sweat from his brow, his heart still racing. “I need to win, Youngho. I have to.”

Youngho studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “You need to be ready. The Championship isn’t just about strength. It’s about knowing when to strike and when to hold back. If you don’t learn to control your impulse, you won’t last long out there.”

Donghyuck nodded, the weight of his words settling in his chest. He knew Youngho was right. He had to be patient, even if his every instinct screamed at him to push forward, to fight, to win.

“Let’s do it again,” Donghyuck said, standing tall despite the exhaustion in his limbs. His eyes were fierce, his spirit unbroken.

Youngho gave him a wry smile. “You’re not getting any easier to teach.”

Donghyuck grinned back. “I’m not stopping until I can fight like a knight.”

And so they continued, under the fading light of the evening, Donghyuck’s resolve growing with every strike, every parry, every lesson learned. The Championship was coming, and Donghyuck was determined to be ready—no matter what it took. They spent the next few hours in the clearing, going over moves, blocking attacks, and practicing techniques. Donghyuck’s arms were sore, his body aching from the repetitive strikes and parries, but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. He had to get better. He had to be ready for the Championship.

As the days passed, whispers began to circulate around Emeria. Rumors spread like wildfire, and Donghyuck couldn’t escape the talk.

"Did you hear? Blood witches have attacked the nearby islands," one of the local fishermen murmured as he passed by Donghyuck’s stall one morning.

"Not just islands—towns, too. I heard there was a village south of here that’s been completely wiped out. They say the witches came on wyverns, burning everything in sight," another customer added, looking worried.

Donghyuck’s heart sank at the mention of the blood witches. He had heard stories of their attacks before—how they spread destruction wherever they went, using their dark magic to control wyverns and unleash terror. The idea of them getting closer to Emeria sent a chill down his spine. But it was more than that—he had the nagging feeling that the witches’ movements weren’t just random.

They were planning something.

Later that day, Donghyuck met Youngho by the docks. The knight’s expression was grave, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something darker.

"I’ve been hearing the same rumors," Youngho said quietly, looking out at the horizon. "The witches are getting bolder, and it’s only a matter of time before they hit the mainland. They’re already coming closer to the southern shores. The kingdom has been on high alert."

Donghyuck clenched his fists, his mind racing. His goal was the Championship, but now, with the witches drawing closer, he couldn’t ignore the threat they posed.

Youngho turned to face him, his eyes narrowed. "If you do this, Donghyuck... if you join the Championship... if there even is a Championship after this, you might not make it. There’s too much danger from the witches. The kingdom might need us to fight back."

Donghyuck didn’t answer right away. His heart felt heavy with the weight of his decisions. The Championship was his ticket to becoming a knight, but the witches... they were a threat to everyone.

"I’ll do whatever I can," Donghyuck said finally, his voice firm with resolve. "But I’m not backing down. I’m going to fight, whether it’s for the Championship or to protect my people."

Youngho looked at him long and hard, as though weighing his words. "Then I’ll train you harder. You’re going to need it."

And with that, the two of them turned toward the horizon, knowing that the storm was coming—and the path ahead would demand everything they had.

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

The sun blazed down upon the port of Emeria, casting its harsh, unrelenting rays over the bustling market. The saltwater air carried the scents of freshly caught fish and seaweed, while the sound of merchant carts, clanging metal, and fishermen calling out their daily bargains filled the air. Ships swayed gently at their docks, their sails fluttering in the warm breeze, and the constant motion of life around the port seemed to harmonize with the rhythm of the ocean.

On this particularly bright afternoon, the sun seemed unforgiving, its heat pressing down on everyone in the area. Donghyuck was busy walking through the marketplace, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of his apothecary shop and the remedies he had yet to prepare for the day. As he passed the fisherman's stalls, something caught his eye—a figure hunched over near a boat, holding their hands to their face, wincing in pain.

Curious, Donghyuck approached, weaving through the market crowd, his eyes focusing on the man who stood with an almost unnatural stillness, his skin an odd shade of red that seemed out of place in Emeria. It wasn’t the usual tan that the people here had from spending their lives beneath the sun—it was a harsh, painful-looking sunburn, the skin on his arms and neck a deep, angry red, and his face flushed with discomfort. His clothes were simple but fine, clearly the attire of someone who had traveled far from home.

Donghyuck furrowed his brows in concern. It was clear that the man was not from around here; even in the midday sun, no one from Emeria suffered burns like that. In fact, the people here were practically immune to sunburns, their skin accustomed to the unrelenting rays. The stranger's discomfort was alarming, and Donghyuck couldn’t ignore the compassion that stirred inside him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Donghyuck called out gently as he neared, adjusting the strap of the small leather bag slung over his shoulder. “It looks like you're in pain. Are you alright?”

The man—whose features were sharp and striking—looked up, his gaze momentarily confused, as though the world around him was spinning in a haze. His pale skin was an almost ghostly contrast to the vibrant, sun-kissed faces of the fishermen around him. His hair was a dark, unruly mess that framed his face in soft waves, and his eyes, a deep shade of brown, were distant, clearly not focused on anything in particular.

He blinked as though waking from a trance and then quickly smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine. Just a little… sunburned,” he replied, his voice slightly strained.

Donghyuck took a step closer, observing the man more carefully. Despite the attempt at a reassuring smile, the pain was evident, and his posture was stiff, almost as if he were trying to avoid any movement that might make his burns worse.

“I’m Donghyuck,” he said, extending a hand with a friendly smile. “I manage my family’s apothecary shop here in the market. I can help with that burn—got just the right salves to soothe it. They work like a charm.”

Minhyung looked down at Donghyuck’s extended hand for a moment before shaking it gently, his grip firm yet cautious. “Minhyung,” he said softly, introducing himself with a modest bow of his head. "Thank you, Donghyuck. I’d appreciate any help you can offer."

Donghyuck reached into his bag and pulled out a small jar of thick, herbal ointment. It was a salve his mother had taught him to make, with a combination of cooling aloe, soothing lavender, and a few other herbs that helped with sunburns. He twisted the top off and extended it to the man.

“Here, just apply this to the affected areas. It’ll soothe the burns,” Donghyuck said, his voice gentle yet firm, with a sense of professionalism that he had picked up from helping at his parents’ apothecary.

The man gingerly took the jar, but before he could start applying the salve, Donghyuck paused. "You shouldn’t be out here in this heat without protection,” he added, looking at the stranger’s discomfort with a frown. "It’s not safe for someone who's not used to it."

The Minhyung didn’t say anything at first, his gaze shifting to the busy port behind them. He looked as though he was about to respond, but instead, he simply nodded and began to apply the salve onto his neck and forearms, wincing slightly at the touch.

Donghyuck watched him for a moment, noting the way the man seemed to relax as the cool ointment took effect. There was a quiet gratitude in his expression, but Donghyuck couldn't shake the sense that something was off. His curiosity piqued even more, but he didn’t press further.

“Are you new to Emeria?” Donghyuck asked casually as he took a small step back. "I’ve never seen you around before."

The man looked up from his arm, clearly considering how much to say. His eyes seemed to linger on Donghyuck, as though he were gauging whether or not to trust him. For a moment, Donghyuck could see that there was something guarded about him.

"Yes," the Minhyung said finally, his voice soft. "I’ve just arrived. I’m… traveling. From far away." His eyes flitted toward the bustling market, and his lips curled into a faint smile again, though it still seemed somewhat strained. "It’s my first time in Emeria. Quite different from where I come from."

Donghyuck smiled at the comment. “Emeria has its charm. The sea, the market, the people—they’re all... unique, aren’t they?” His voice was warm, friendly, trying to make the stranger feel at ease.

The man’s smile faltered slightly before it returned. "Yes. I’m starting to see that," he said quietly.

Donghyuck gave a small nod, letting the silence settle between them for a brief moment. The man finished applying the salve, and Donghyuck could see the redness of his skin starting to fade, the painful flush gradually giving way to a more natural, relaxed tone.

“You’re in good hands,” Donghyuck said with a smile, gesturing to the jar of salve. "If you need anything else, my apothecary is just up the street. You can find me there anytime."

Minhyung nodded in thanks, his eyes a little softer now. He stood up straight, wincing just slightly before he placed the jar back into Donghyuck’s hands.

“Thank you, again,” he said. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, before he turned to walk away, his steps slower now, though no less steady.

“Safe travels,” Donghyuck called after him, his voice carrying the warmth of his hometown.

As the stranger disappeared into the crowd, Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of intrigue. There was something about him, a hidden depth, something he couldn’t quite place. His pale skin and discomfort under the sun, his quiet demeanor—it was all so different from what Donghyuck was used to, and yet, it piqued his curiosity.

But for now, there was work to be done. With a shrug, Donghyuck made his way toward his family’s stall, still thinking about the traveler, wondering where he had come from and what stories lay behind those tired eyes.

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

Days passed since Donghyuck's chance meeting with the stranger, and while life in the port of Emeria continued its busy routine, his thoughts occasionally returned to Minhyung. There was something about the traveler that lingered in his mind—his pale skin, his quiet yet intense presence, and the way his eyes seemed to hide a lifetime of stories. Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel that there was more to Minhyung than met the eye, but the man had been polite and reserved, offering little to no insight into who he truly was or where he had come from.

Donghyuck continued his work at his family’s apothecary, helping those who passed through the port, treating wounds, cuts, bruises, and ailments caused by the harsh weather and salty air. Yet, in the back of his mind, he kept wondering about Minhyung.

But life moved on, and soon, a week passed before their paths crossed again.

It was an afternoon much like the one when Donghyuck first met Minhyung—hot, bright, and full of energy from the fishermen and marketgoers. Donghyuck had just finished restocking his family's booth when he spotted the familiar figure in the distance. Minhyung stood by one of the docked ships, speaking with one of the fishermen, but Donghyuck immediately noticed the slight wince on the traveler’s face as he lifted his arm to gesture toward something. His movements were stiff, though he tried to hide it with a forced smile.

Curiosity tugged at Donghyuck, and before he could stop himself, he found his feet moving toward the traveler once more. This time, he wasn’t sure if he was worried or just intrigued.

"Minhyung!" Donghyuck called out, his voice carrying over the sounds of the market.

Minhyung turned at the sound of his name, his expression immediately shifting to a neutral one, though his eyes seemed to soften at the sight of Donghyuck.

"Oh, it’s you again," he said, offering a slight nod, the faintest hint of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. "I didn’t expect to see you today."

Donghyuck gave a friendly wave, walking closer. "You look like you’re in pain. That burn still bothering you?"

Minhyung rubbed his neck, looking a little sheepish. "I suppose I’m still not used to the heat. The salve helped, but… the sun is unforgiving." He winced again, and Donghyuck could see that the man’s skin was still tender, despite the previous relief the ointment had given him.

“Here, let me help you again," Donghyuck offered, his voice soft but insistent. “I have more salve back at my shop. You don’t want to risk another burn.”

Minhyung hesitated for a moment before nodding, though there was something reluctant in his demeanor, as though he didn’t want to accept more help.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I’ll follow you."

They walked through the bustling market together, side by side. Donghyuck noticed that Minhyung didn’t seem to mind the hustle and bustle of the crowd, but the tension in his shoulders was evident. He was careful with his movements, and his eyes darted here and there, as though constantly scanning the surroundings.

They reached the small apothecary stall, where Donghyuck’s mother, an experienced herbalist, was tending to a customer. She looked up as they approached and smiled warmly, though her eyes quickly assessed Minhyung’s condition.

"Burns, my dear?" she asked, her voice calm but kind.

Minhyung gave a slight bow of his head. "Yes, thank you. The sun… it’s been troublesome."

Donghyuck’s mother nodded. "Sit down for a moment, then. Donghyuck, help him with the salve."

As Minhyung settled onto the low wooden stool by the stall, Donghyuck retrieved the jar of salve from the shelf and prepared to apply it once more. As he gently began to rub the cool ointment onto Minhyung’s arms, he couldn’t help but notice the slight tension in the man’s expression. His features were sharp and handsome, but there was an edge to him—a quiet intensity that Donghyuck could sense even in the stillness of the moment.

"Are you always traveling alone?" Donghyuck asked, trying to break the silence with a casual tone. "You seem... well, far from home."

Minhyung’s gaze shifted away for a moment, and for the first time, Donghyuck caught a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something guarded, something secret. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I... prefer to travel alone,” Minhyung replied, his voice steady but carrying a note of finality. “I don’t like to burden others.”

Donghyuck nodded slowly, picking up on the subtle clues. There was more to the man’s story than he was letting on, but Donghyuck wasn’t one to press. Instead, he simply focused on applying the salve, doing what he could to make the man more comfortable.

“Everyone has their reasons,” Donghyuck said quietly, his tone respectful. "I understand. It can be hard to rely on others."

Minhyung met his gaze for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn’t respond immediately, but there was something about Donghyuck’s words that seemed to resonate with him.

"Maybe," Minhyung murmured, more to himself than to Donghyuck. "Maybe you’re right."

After a brief silence, Minhyung stood up, moving slowly to avoid further strain on his still-sore limbs. He handed the jar of salve back to Donghyuck with a soft, appreciative smile.

"Thank you," Minhyung said, his voice quieter than before. "I didn’t realize how much I needed help until now."

Donghyuck smiled back, his usual warmth returning. "It’s nothing. It’s what I do."

As Minhyung turned to leave, Donghyuck called out, "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to come by."

The traveler paused, turning back to face him. His eyes lingered on Donghyuck for a moment, an unreadable expression crossing his face. Then, as if the weight of his thoughts had shifted, he gave a small nod.

"I will," Minhyung said, before disappearing back into the busy streets.

Donghyuck stood for a moment, watching the man retreat into the crowd. There was something intriguing about him, something that sparked curiosity in Donghyuck’s chest. But for now, he was left to wonder just who Minhyung truly was and what he was running from.

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

The midday sun cast its golden glow over the bustling port market of Emeria, where laughter and chatter blended with the calls of merchants peddling their goods. Amidst the lively chaos, Donghyuck stood behind the small wooden counter of his family’s apothecary stall, meticulously organizing jars of herbs and small vials of salves. His practiced hands moved with ease, but his mind lingered on the pale traveler he had met earlier that morning.

The small stall was tucked neatly between a colorful fishmonger’s setup and a fruit vendor’s cart, its shelves lined with neatly labeled jars of crushed herbs, oils, and powders. The air around it carried the faint, calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus, a stark contrast to the sharp tang of salt and fish wafting from the nearby docks.<br />

His younger siblings had gone to the nearby shore, promising to stay within sight, leaving him alone to tend the shop. He sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. The humidity clung to the air, making the heat feel heavier, and he longed for a cold drink of water.

As Donghyuck replaced a cork stopper on a small vial of peppermint oil, a familiar voice broke through the noise of the market.

“Donghyuck! You're looking particularly serious today—what’s got you so focused?”

He looked up to see Yeri, her bright smile lighting up her face as she weaved her way through the crowd toward him. She was dressed in a breathtaking gown of deep emerald green, its bodice embroidered with golden filigree shaped like curling vines and blossoming flowers. The skirt flowed around her like rippling water, the light fabric catching the breeze as she moved. Her hair was swept into an elegant half-up braid, adorned with delicate jade pins that sparkled like drops of dew. Around her neck hung a pendant—a polished opal stone encased in gold—that seemed to glow faintly in the sunlight.

Donghyuck grinned at her approach, already feeling a sense of ease. Yeri had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, their bond stronger than any differences in status. She had always been more interested in exploring the world outside her family’s grand estate than adhering to the formalities expected of her.

“Yeri,” he greeted, leaning on the counter with a teasing smirk. “What brings you to our humble little stall today? Don’t tell me you’ve run out of excuses to avoid those fancy tea parties.”

Yeri rolled her eyes playfully as she reached the stall. “I’ll have you know I’m here for an actual reason. My mother sent me to find something for headaches. Asked me to di it myself, too. She’s been complaining all morning, and I figured you might have something useful.”

Donghyuck chuckled, grabbing a small jar of crushed willow bark from the shelf behind him. “Willow bark tea should do the trick. Brew it, let it cool, and have her sip it slowly. I’d say you should add some honey to sweeten it—your mother doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy bitterness.”

Yeri took the jar with a grateful smile, her gaze lingering on her friend as he turned back to organize the remaining jars. “You know, you’re too good at this,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re secretly a healer in disguise.”

“Ha! If only. You’d be surprised how often people come by expecting miracles,” Donghyuck replied with a shake of his head. “But enough about me. How’s life in the grand halls of your estate? Or should I ask, how’s your very exciting schedule of embroidery and etiquette lessons?”

“Boring as ever,” Yeri sighed dramatically. “Honestly, if I could trade places with you for a day, I’d do it in a heartbeat. At least you get to talk to interesting people out here.”

Donghyuck tilted his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Speaking of interesting people… I did meet someone a few weeks ago. A traveler. Pale skin, not from around here. He had sunburns—bad ones.”

Yeri raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Sunburns? Here in Emeria? That’s rare. You’re sure he wasn’t just some unfortunate tourist who didn’t know any better?”

“He said he was a traveler,” Donghyuck replied, crossing his arms. “His name’s Minhyung. He’s been helping the fishermen at the docks. Seems nice enough, but there’s something… different about him. Can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Yeri leaned closer, resting her elbows on the counter. “Different, huh? What do you mean? Was he acting strange?”

“Not exactly,” Donghyuck said, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. “It’s more the way he carries himself. He’s polite and soft-spoken, but there’s this… air about him. Like he’s seen and done more than he lets on. And the way he looks—pale skin, sharp features—it’s not what you’d expect from a typical traveler.”

Yeri tapped her chin, intrigued. “A mysterious stranger with sunburns. Sounds like the start of a story. Did he say where he’s from?”

“No, and I didn’t ask,” Donghyuck admitted. “I didn’t want to pry, but now that I think about it, it’s strange he’s helping fishermen of all things. Doesn’t seem like he belongs here. Probably from Arrendyll or Carran.”

“Maybe he’s running from something,” Yeri suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Or maybe he’s a noble in disguise, trying to experience life as a commoner.”

Donghyuck laughed at the idea, shaking his head. “A noble? Out here, getting sunburned while hauling fishnets? Highly unlikely. Besides, he’s too quiet for someone used to grand halls and feasts.”

Yeri smirked. “You never know. Nobles can be full of surprises. Case in point: me.”

“Well, if he is some runaway noble, I’ll be sure to let you interrogate him,” Donghyuck said with a grin. “In the meantime, he’s just a traveler who needed help. I gave him some salves for the burns, and that’s that.”

“Hmm,” Yeri said, her tone teasing. “You’re awfully invested in this ‘Minhyung’ for someone who claims it’s nothing.”

“Don’t start,” Donghyuck groaned, though his smile betrayed his amusement. “I’m just being a decent human being. You know, helping out someone in need.”

“Of course, of course,” Yeri said, waving him off with a playful wink. “But if you see him again, maybe you should get to know him a little better. Who knows? He might have a story worth hearing.”

Her curiosity lingered, but she didn’t press further. Instead, her tone grew more serious as she glanced around the market. The usual liveliness felt different, subdued under the weight of fear.

“Donghyuck,” Yeri said softly, leaning in closer. “Have you heard the latest about the witches?”

He froze for a moment, his hand pausing mid-reach for a jar. “More rumors?”

“Not just rumors.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The witches. They’ve been seen closer to the border. The council is in a panic, and father says Emeria is their first target.”

Donghyuck’s stomach churned. He gripped the edge of the counter, his mind racing. “We’re the closest. Of course, they’d come here first.”

Yeri nodded, her expression shadowed with worry. “They said without hellfire… Donghyuck, we can’t stop them. No one can.”

The thought was unbearable. Donghyuck glanced toward the horizon, where the sea met the sky in a serene line, as if mocking the chaos that loomed. “We can’t just sit and wait to be overrun,” he said firmly. “There has to be something we can do.”

Yeri placed a hand on his arm, her touch light but grounding. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. But what? No one knows where the hellfire is.”

“Maybe someone does,” Donghyuck said, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. “Maybe there’s something we’re missing. Someone who’s seen more than we have.”

Yeri studied him for a moment, her sharp mind working through his words. Finally, she sighed. “You might be right. But until then…” Her voice faltered, and she shook her head, as if pushing away the thought.

Donghyuck reached for her hand, his fingers brushing hers briefly. “We’ll figure it out. We have to.”

Her eyes softened, and she gave him a small, sad smile. “Stay safe, Donghyuck. ”

“You too,” he replied.

As she stepped back into the crowd, her gown swirling gracefully around her, Donghyuck felt the weight of her words settle heavily on his shoulders. The blood witches were coming, and with them, the kind of darkness that could shatter everything he held dear.

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

The bright sun hung heavy in the sky, casting a shimmering haze over the busy port of Emeria. Fishermen called out to each other, vendors shouted the prices of their goods, and the chatter of the market created an almost festive hum that echoed across the docks. Donghyuck had just finished helping a customer at his family’s apothecary stall when he noticed something unusual—a sudden tension in the air, as if the wind itself had become too still.

It was a subtle change at first, but Donghyuck’s instincts kicked in. He frowned and looked up, scanning the crowd, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. The noise of the market carried on, but something felt wrong.

Then, all at once, the air shattered.

A piercing scream cut through the marketplace, followed by a loud roar that shook the ground. People screamed, scrambling in every direction, as monstrous figures descended from the sky. Giant wyverns—dark green and ominous—swooped low, their wings creating gusts of wind strong enough to knock over crates and barrels. The beasts’ riders, cloaked in blood-red robes, appeared like shadows from the abyss, their eyes gleaming with malice.

Blood witches.

The crowd erupted into chaos as the wyverns landed, their riders dismounting in swift, practiced movements. The witches wielded dark magic, their hands crackling with power. One of them raised their arm, and a bolt of black lightning shot out, hitting a nearby building and sending it up in flames.

Donghyuck’s heart pounded in his chest. The air felt thick with the stench of danger, and his mind raced as he tried to process the situation. He had heard of blood witches—dark sorcerers locked up away from Erithrea now free and seeking to destroy everything in their path—but to see them in person was something entirely different. They were every nightmare he had ever imagined.

Before he could make sense of the scene, he was shoved aside by the frantic crowd, sending him tumbling into a stack of crates. He tried to stand, but his legs were unsteady, his heart racing as the sound of destruction continued to fill the air.

His breath hitched in his throat when he spotted one of the wyverns soaring overhead, its rider scanning the streets, looking for victims. The witch’s eyes met his, and Donghyuck froze, feeling the intensity of her gaze. There was no mercy in those eyes—only hunger.

She raised her hand, and a pulse of dark magic swirled around her. Donghyuck barely had time to react before a bolt of shadow surged toward him. The blast of energy hit the ground beside him with a violent force, sending him sprawling backward. His heart hammered as he struggled to get up, but his vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the chaos.

"Get up, Donghyuck!"

A voice—familiar, yet urgent—cut through the noise.

Donghyuck’s head snapped up, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Minhyung rushing toward him through the sea of panicked people. His eyes were wide, filled with something Donghyuck couldn’t place. He wasn’t running away, nor did he look like someone who was simply trying to escape. Minhyung was moving toward the danger, not away from it.

Before Donghyuck could say anything, Minhyung grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to his feet with surprising strength. His grip was firm, unshakable.

"We need to move. Now," Minhyung said, his voice low and steady, though the tension in his words was palpable.

Donghyuck’s mind was racing. Why was Minhyung here? Why was he helping him again? But there was no time for questions. The blood witch’s wyvern was circling overhead, and she had already locked onto them.

"Come on!" Minhyung urged, pulling Donghyuck with him. The crowd scattered in all directions, but the two of them cut through the chaos, heading toward a narrow alleyway where the buildings would shield them from the wyvern’s sight.

As they ran, Donghyuck could feel Minhyung’s pace quicken, his strides purposeful. They darted between market stalls and vendors, weaving through the throngs of people. Donghyuck’s heart was still racing, his mind fighting to process everything that was happening, but the sheer urgency in Minhyung’s actions kept him moving.

They reached the alley just as the wyvern’s rider took another swing at the fleeing people. The massive beast screeched above them, the sound deafening as it circled back for another pass. Donghyuck could hear the crackling energy in the air as the witch prepared another spell.

Minhyung pulled Donghyuck behind a stack of crates, his breathing steady despite the frantic situation. They both crouched down, out of the witch’s sight—at least for now.

“Stay quiet,” Minhyung whispered.

Donghyuck nodded, barely breathing as he tried to steady his racing heart. His eyes were locked on Minhyung, who seemed eerily calm in the face of the destruction around them. His hand still held Donghyuck’s arm, his fingers warm against the chill that had begun to settle in.

They waited in tense silence, the distant sounds of screams and fire filling the air.

After what felt like an eternity, the wyvern’s screech faded. The witch had moved further down the street, no longer focused on them. Donghyuck let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling. He had never been this close to death, and the adrenaline from the encounter made his head spin.

Minhyung didn’t move immediately, but his eyes scanned the area carefully. There was a moment of stillness before he turned to Donghyuck.

“You okay?” Minhyung’s voice was soft, but the concern in it was unmistakable.

Donghyuck nodded, though he couldn’t quite find the words to express the mix of fear and gratitude he felt. Minhyung had saved him, but how? He didn’t see Minhyung use any magic. There was no fire, no lightning, no signs of power—just his quick thinking and calm demeanor.

“I… I think so,” Donghyuck replied, his voice a little shaky. He looked at Minhyung again, trying to piece together the puzzle. “You… you saved me. How did you��”

Minhyung gave him a faint smile, but there was something shadowed in his eyes.

“Just lucky, I guess,” he said quietly, his tone not matching the gravity of the situation. Then, with a quick glance around, he stood up and pulled Donghyuck to his feet.

“We need to move again. The witches will come back.” His voice was firm now, no longer soft or hesitant.

Donghyuck didn’t question him this time. He followed Minhyung without a word, the lingering questions about the man’s true identity hanging heavy in his chest.

But for now, survival was all that mattered.

As they hurried through the streets, keeping low, Donghyuck couldn’t help but wonder about Minhyung. There was something more to this traveler than met the eye—something far greater than the simple traveler he had appeared to be. But, for now, all Donghyuck could do was trust him.

He had no idea who Minhyung really was, but in that moment, Donghyuck knew one thing for certain: the stranger had just saved his life.

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the small apothecary stall where Donghyuck and his younger sister, Hyein, were tidying up. The market was quieter now, the bustling crowds having thinned as the evening crept in. Donghyuck had been quieter than usual, his mind far away in the wake of the blood witches’ attack a couple days ago. The witches just left on their own after terrorizing the port market, several bodies wounded up and a lot more injured. Though the market was beginning to return to normal, the weight of what had happened lingered, as did the anxiety in his heart.

Hyein, ever the curious one, had noticed her brother’s distant mood as he carefully wrapped bundles of herbs. The young girl, only twelve, moved closer to him and tugged at the sleeve of his worn tunic.

“Hyuckie,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “You’ve been quiet all day. Are you still thinking about what happened at the market?”

Donghyuck looked down at her, his expression softening. He didn’t want to burden her with the thoughts swirling in his head, but it was hard to keep it all inside.

“It’s just… a lot, Hyein,” he said, sighing. “I never thought something like that would happen here, you know? It’s like we were in another world for a moment, a world full of... darkness.”

Hyein tilted her head, her dark eyes reflecting the sunset as she pondered his words. “Darkness? You mean those witches? They were so scary. Everyone says they’re from Darkwell, but no one ever talks about it.”

Donghyuck froze, his hands stilling as he turned to look at his younger sister. His heart skipped a beat at the mention of Darkwell. It was a name that had always carried whispers of fear and mystery. The people of Emeria—of all the other kingdoms—had heard rumors about the sixth kingdom, but no one truly knew the truth.

“The Kingdom of Darkwell,” Donghyuck repeated softly. “It’s a place full of... evil, they said. The kind of evil that no one really talks about, not in detail. They say the people there are cruel, heartless. That they don’t care for anyone but themselves.”

Hyein’s eyes widened. “But... is it really that bad? Why does no one go there?”

Donghyuck hesitated. The truth was, he didn’t know much more than what everyone had been told—bits and pieces, tales spun by fearful mouths. He always tried to stay away from such talk. But now, in the quiet of the evening, it felt different. The attack, the whispers in the wind about the blood witches and their connections to Darkwell... it made everything feel more real.

“There are rumors, Hyein,” Donghyuck began, his voice low. “Some say that the royals of Darkwell are even crueler than their people. That they rule with terror. They’ve got armies of monsters—creatures no one dares speak of, and they say some of them are... not even human.”

Hyein shivered. “Monsters? Like what?”

Donghyuck frowned, rubbing his face as if the words were difficult to say. “Like shadow beasts. And... things that look human but aren’t. Things with red eyes that haunt you in your dreams.”

He glanced at his little sister, noticing how the color drained from her face. He hadn’t meant to scare her, but the truth of it all felt so heavy. There was always talk of how evil Darkwell was, but he never thought about it much. Not until now. The witches were bad enough, but if they were connected to the same place... it all made sense, in a twisted way.

“Do you think they’ll come back? With more monsters?” Hyein asked, her voice trembling a little as she clutched her brother’s sleeve.

Donghyuck shook his head quickly, trying to reassure her. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. But... we’re near the border, and no one knows what the witches really want. If they do, they’ll probably go after the other kingdoms first. Carran, Frostford, other kingdoms... they’ve got the resources to fight back. But us? We’ve got no defenses like that.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fears. Neither of them knew what would come next. It was a strange feeling, the sense of waiting for something terrible to arrive and not knowing how to stop it.

“Maybe that’s why the other kingdoms are so secretive,” Donghyuck murmured, more to himself than to Hyein. “They don’t want people to know how close the darkness really is.”

Hyein’s brow furrowed, her young mind working through his words. “Do you think the people of Darkwell are all evil?”

Donghyuck paused, considering. He didn’t want to paint anyone as entirely evil, but the rumors painted a grim picture. “I think... there are probably good people there. But they’re trapped. Trapped by the evil in their kingdom. It’s not the same as how we live here.”

Hyein nodded thoughtfully, though it was clear she didn’t fully understand. “So... if Darkwell is so bad, what’s the point of all this?” She gestured around them at the market, the docks, their home in Emeria.

“Maybe it’s to remind us to protect what we have,” Donghyuck replied quietly, his gaze drifting to the horizon. “We can’t let the darkness take over. We have to keep the light burning.”

A long silence fell between them, the weight of the world pressing down as the last rays of sunlight dipped beneath the horizon. The world beyond their little stall was changing, and they both felt it, even if they didn’t fully understand it yet.

“I wish I could do something, Hyuckie,” Hyein whispered, her voice small.

Donghyuck smiled softly and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “You’re already doing something, Hyein. You’re keeping me grounded. You’re the light I need to see through all this darkness.”

Hyein smiled back, though it was tinged with worry. “Promise me you’ll be careful?”

“I promise,” Donghyuck said quietly, but in his heart, he wasn’t sure. The weight of the world was closing in, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the promise to his sister. The shadows were coming, and soon, the people of this kingdom would have to face them head-on

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

The days following the blood witches' attack on the port market had been a blur of chaos and fear. Donghyuck couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed, that Emeria—the kingdom that had always felt safe and bright—was no longer the same. The market, once bustling with life, had grown quieter. People spoke in hushed tones, casting wary glances at the horizon as rumors of the witches’ advancing army spread.

Donghyuck had done his best to return to normal, tending to the apothecary stall with his usual precision, though his thoughts were never far from the attack. He’d seen Minhyung again, and though the traveler had kept his distance after saving him, there was an unspoken connection between them that lingered in Donghyuck’s mind. He’d been impressed by the man’s courage and the way he stood firm. It was something Donghyuck admired, especially after the harrowing attack they’d witnessed together.

It was late in the afternoon when Youngho appeared at the apothecary stall. Youngho was dressed in his usual attire—a worn but well-kept knight’s armor, his long blue cloak trailing behind him as he moved through the market. There was a heaviness in his step, a tension in his posture that Donghyuck immediately noticed.

“Donghyuck,” Youngho greeted him with a solemn nod.

“Hey, Youngho,” Donghyuck replied, trying to mask the concern he felt. “What brings you here? I didn’t think knights had much time for herbs and salves.”

Youngho gave him a brief, tired smile. “Not for salves, I’m afraid. I’ve got a mission.”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “A mission? A serious one?”

Youngho hesitated for a moment, glancing around as if ensuring no one was listening. “Yes. You could say that.”

Donghyuck leaned forward, intrigued. “What is it? What’s going on?”

Youngho sighed deeply, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’ve heard about the witches, right? Their attack on the market…”

Donghyuck nodded grimly, his stomach twisting at the memory. “I was here. But I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. We’re supposed to be safe here in Emeria.”

Youngho looked at him with steely resolve. “Emeria was never going to be safe. Not with the witches on the move. That’s why I’ve been sent on this mission.”

Donghyuck’s heart quickened. “A mission to stop them?”

“In a way,” Youngho replied. “I’m heading to Carran, the Kingdom of Eternal Autumn. The last Hellfire Pool is located there.”

Donghyuck’s brow furrowed. “Hellfire Pool? I’ve heard of it, but… I thought the Hellfire Pools were all dried up. Aren’t they dangerous?”

“They are,” Youngho confirmed. “But that’s where the black fire is said to originate. The only fire capable of killing the witches.” He paused, glancing around again before lowering his voice. “There’s one last pool of black fire left in the kingdom of Carran. And I’ve been ordered to retrieve it.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widened as the weight of his words settled over him. The black fire—a force so powerful, so dangerous, it was rumored to be the only thing capable of ending the blood witches’ reign of terror. He had heard of the Hellfire Pools from older traders and adventurers who spoke of them in whispered tones. But the fact that there was still one left—that was something he hadn’t expected.

“So, you’re going there? To Carran?” Donghyuck asked, a little breathlessly.

Youngho nodded. “Yes. I’ll need to bring the fire back to Emeria. We don’t have many options left.”

Donghyuck’s heart raced. The mission sounded perilous, dangerous—something only the bravest knights would undertake. But Youngho wasn’t just a knight. He was a friend. And Donghyuck could feel the weight of his responsibility. If anyone could complete the task, it would be him.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Donghyuck asked, his voice betraying his concern.

Youngho gave him a small, wry smile. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I? The witches are coming, and we need that fire.”

Donghyuck thought about the days leading up to this, the fear that had gripped him ever since the attack. “So, what’s the plan? How do you get the fire?”

“From what I know,” Youngho explained, “the Hellfire Pool in Carran is guarded by some of the fiercest creatures you can imagine. We’ll need to be careful. The royals in Carran control the fire, but only the Hellfire Guardians—a group of ancient protectors—can unlock the pool’s power.”

“Guardians?” Donghyuck asked, confused.

“Ancient beings bound to protect the fire,” Youngho explained. “I’ve heard stories about them—massive creatures, some say they’re dragons, others say they’re just living shadows of flame. Either way, they’re not something you want to cross.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widened at the thought. “Sounds like a suicide mission.”

“I’m not going alone,” Youngho assured him. “I’ll be accompanied by a small group of trusted knights, including some from Carran. It won’t be easy, but it’s our only hope. We’ll bring the fire back, no matter the cost.”

Donghyuck nodded slowly, the weight of the situation sinking in. He admired Youngho’s courage, but the thought of him facing such danger made his stomach turn. He had always known Youngho to be brave and loyal, but this mission—retrieving the last black fire—felt like too much to bear.

“What about the people here? What happens if you’re gone too long?” Donghyuck asked, a knot in his throat.

Youngho smiled faintly. “The kingdom will survive, Donghyuck. People like you and the others here are what will keep Emeria going, and our royals are just as powerful as the others. I may not be here, but you all still have a role to play. Protecting this place. Protecting your family.”

Donghyuck swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I’ll keep the apothecary running. But… be careful, Youngho. Please.”

“I will,” Youngho promised, his tone serious. “And if anything goes wrong…” He hesitated, then looked Donghyuck in the eye. “Don’t let the witches win. Hold the line.”

The sun had just begun its descent, casting long shadows over the port market, when Donghyuck caught sight of Youngho again. He had been stewing over their conversation all day, the uncertainty and fear gnawing at him. He knew he couldn’t just sit back and let the knights carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. There was a way he could help, a way to prove that he wasn’t just a commoner, managing his parents’ apothecary stall. He had something more to give.

With a determined stride, Donghyuck approached Youngho, who was preparing to leave the market. His armor gleamed under the soft evening light, his expression grim and unreadable. Donghyuck couldn’t ignore the unease in his friend's eyes. It was clear the weight of the mission was pressing down on him.

“Youngho!” Donghyuck called out, his voice a mix of urgency and resolve.

Youngho paused, glancing back, a bit surprised to see Donghyuck rushing toward him. “Donghyuck, what are you doing here? You should be resting, getting ready for the night.”

Donghyuck didn’t waste a second, his words spilling out faster than he intended. “I want to go with you. To Carran. On your mission. I’m not going to sit around while the witches are attacking. I can help.”

Youngho frowned, clearly taken aback by the sudden declaration. “You’re crazy,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief. “It’s too dangerous, Donghyuck. You’re a healer, not a fighter. You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking for,” Donghyuck shot back, his voice steady but firm. “I can fight, Youngho. You’ve seen me with a sword. I’ve been training for years. Maybe I’m not as skilled as you or the other knights, but I’m not helpless. And this mission…” He hesitated for a moment, his voice quieter now, “...this is my chance. My chance to prove I can do more than just run an apothecary stall.”

Youngho shook his head, his brow furrowing in concern. “You’re not ready, Donghyuck. This isn’t just a skirmish at the market. We’re going into Carran’s heart, into the depths of their fire-guarded lands. You could die. You could be torn apart by those Hellfire Guardians.”

Donghyuck's heart raced at the mention of the Hellfire Guardians, but he refused to let fear show on his face. “I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I need to go. If I stay here, I’ll just be another person hiding behind the walls, waiting for something to happen. I want to do something, to fight for our home. To fight for Emeria. And…” He took a step closer, locking eyes with Youngho. “You have high enough rank to have me join as a commoner. If I join a successful mission with the knights, they'd probably consider me in the Championships, right?”

Youngho was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he studied Donghyuck. The younger man’s gaze was unwavering, his determination clear in his eyes. But there was a flicker of something else there too—a deep, quiet fear, one that wasn’t about himself but about his friend.

“Donghyuck, this is too much. I promised your parents I would look after you. I can’t take you into something like this,” Youngho said quietly, his voice filled with hesitation. “I’m not just worried for your safety—I’m worried about your future. You’ve got a life here. A family. You can’t risk it all for something that might not even work.”

Donghyuck didn’t flinch. He had heard that argument before, when he first wanted to pick up a sword or go beyond the stall to see the world. But this time, his heart was set. His family would be safe if they retrieve the fire. “I’m not asking you to take care of me anymore, Youngho,” he said, his voice hardening with resolve. “I’m asking to join you. I want to fight. And if I don’t go now, I’ll always regret it. The witches are coming. They won’t stop until they’ve destroyed everything we have. We need every sword we can get, and I’m willing to be one of those swords.”

Youngho looked at him, his brow furrowed in concern, as if he was seeing Donghyuck in a new light. The younger man had always been stubborn, but now there was a fire in him—a fire Youngho recognized as the same drive that had made him a knight in the first place. It was the same fire that had kept him going when he first began his own training, when he’d been told he wasn’t enough, when people doubted him.

He wasn’t just the boy who ran the apothecary stall.

He was a fighter now.

“You’re not going to back down, are you?” Youngho said with a sigh, the fight draining out of him. He had been trying to protect Donghyuck, trying to keep him safe from the dangers that lay ahead, but it was clear that his friend had already made up his mind. The resolve in his eyes was something he couldn’t argue with.

Donghyuck shook his head. “No. I can’t. Please, Youngho. Let me go with you. Please. Let me prove myself.”

For a moment, Youngho stood there, conflicted. He cared deeply for Donghyuck, and the thought of sending him into danger gnawed at him. But deep down, he knew that Donghyuck wasn’t just some boy anymore. He had the heart of a knight—he just needed to find it.

“Alright,” Youngho said, his voice softening. “But if you get hurt, I’m holding you responsible.”

Donghyuck grinned, “You won’t regret this, Youngho. I promise.”

The older knight gave a half-smile, shaking his head, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed his feelings. “You’d better not,” he said, clapping Donghyuck on the shoulder. “We leave in three days at dawn. You’d better get some rest. You’re not going to be able to get any sleep for the next few days.”

Donghyuck nodded, feeling a surge of determination. “I’ll be ready.”

As Youngho turned to leave, Donghyuck stood there for a moment longer, the weight of what he was about to do settling over him. He wasn’t sure if he was ready, but he knew one thing for sure—this was his chance. The chance to prove not only to Youngho, but to himself, that he was capable of more than he had ever imagined. The witches were coming. And Donghyuck wasn’t going to just stand by and watch.

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers as Donghyuck ventured into the forest clearing just a few miles outside the market. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grassy expanse. His steps were quick, determined—his mind set on gathering the herbs he needed to make the salves. But as his feet pressed deeper into the underbrush, his thoughts wandered back to Minhyung.

The man, the traveler who had helped him days ago, had saved him without hesitation.. The image of Minhyung’s gentle hands, his caring smile, and the way he helped Donghyuck lingered in his mind. It wasn’t just gratitude that drove him, though. It was a strange pull, a sense that he wanted to do something for Minhyung, something that might ease his burdens. The thought of leaving for Carran, facing the horrors of the blood witches, felt daunting, but as he knelt by the edge of the clearing, a quiet resolve settled within him. He would make the salves to give to Minhyung. If he ever needed them, Donghyuck would know he had something to offer.

The clearing before him was dotted with wild herbs, many of which he knew by heart—calendula for its healing properties, comfrey for bruises and sprains, and aloe for burns. These were the herbs that Donghyuck had used many times in his life, the ones he had seen his parents work with when they treated customers at the apothecary stall. They were simple but effective, just like him.

He bent down, carefully plucking the herbs, his hands moving with practiced precision. The blades of grass beneath his fingers were soft, the flowers fragrant, but Donghyuck barely noticed any of it. His focus was solely on the task at hand. He needed to gather as many as he could before nightfall. The journey to Carran was imminent, and the thought of not being fully prepared left a gnawing feeling in his chest.

But as he reached for another bunch of comfrey, his hand brushed against a sharp thorn, and a sharp sting raced up his arm. He winced and instinctively pulled his hand back, looking at the small cut on his palm. The red line of blood beaded there for a moment before it was absorbed by the dirt.

He didn’t mind. The pain was nothing. He had dealt with worse before.

Donghyuck wiped his hand on his trousers and kept going. He was determined to gather enough herbs for the salves—not just for the people in the market, but for Minhyung, whose name had somehow found its way into his thoughts more than once since their last meeting.

Another thorn scraped across his wrist. He flinched but kept moving, now more aware of the cuts and scrapes accumulating on his arms and hands. They were nothing serious, just minor injuries, but each one stung like a reminder of the danger that awaited them.

He didn’t care.

Minhyung had saved him. He had given Donghyuck the chance to continue his life, to stand tall when everything felt uncertain. Now, he would return the favor in the only way he knew how. With each herb he collected, Donghyuck’s resolve grew. He didn’t even notice how his palms had started to bleed freely, the blood mixing with the earth beneath him. He was going to help Minhyung. It didn’t matter that he was about to leave for Carran, that the journey would be perilous and life-threatening. Minhyung had helped him when he needed it, and this was Donghyuck’s way of giving back.

He worked until the basket he had been filling was overflowing with herbs—stems of mint, bunches of chamomile, and more comfrey. His hands were covered in small cuts and scratches now, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the pale scars from years of work in the apothecary. The sun was lower now, casting a soft orange glow across the clearing. But Donghyuck didn’t stop. He worked, his focus unwavering, pushing the pain of the cuts out of his mind.

Finally, when the basket could hold no more, Donghyuck took a step back. His hands were raw, the blood drying and flaking in the open air. His skin stung where the cuts had been, but he barely noticed it. His heart was light, the weight of everything that had been weighing on him—the impending mission, his worries about his family, the blood witches—fading, if only for a moment.

He had done it. He had gathered the herbs, and now he would make the salves for Minhyung. He smiled, though it was a quiet one, barely noticeable. It wasn’t just about healing wounds—it was about connection. About showing someone that they mattered. Even if he never saw Minhyung again, Donghyuck would know that he had done something to help him.

He made his way back toward the market, the basket of herbs in his arms, ignoring the bloodstains that marked his hands. The night was coming, and with it, his journey to Carran.

But before he left, he would make sure Minhyung had what he needed. For the traveler, for the man who had been his unknowing protector, Donghyuck would do this one last thing.

His heart beat a little faster as he thought of the journey ahead. It would be a hard road, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. He had a purpose, and the strength to face whatever lay ahead, even if it meant more cuts and bruises.

.‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚.

The night was calm, the only sound the gentle lapping of waves against the wooden pylons that held the docks of Emeria in place. A soft, cool breeze rustled through the air, carrying with it the briny scent of the ocean. The docks were quiet now, much quieter than they had been earlier in the day when it was bustling with fishermen preparing their boats and merchants haggling over fresh catches. Now, the streets were empty, bathed in the dim glow of lanterns.

Donghyuck stood at the edge of the dock, his feet close to the water’s edge. The salty air stung his skin, mixing with the faint, lingering ache of the cuts on his hands. He gripped the small woven basket tightly, his fingers still raw but nothing compared to the thoughts that circled in his mind. He had waited for this moment, steeling himself with the knowledge that once he said his goodbyes, there would be no turning back.

The traveler, Minhyung, was seated on a crate near the edge of the dock, his face partially obscured by the shadow cast from the nearby building. He was looking out at the dark horizon, lost in his thoughts. Donghyuck took a step forward, each movement measured and slow. The words that had been floating on his tongue felt heavy, like they might weigh him down if he spoke them too soon.

"Minhyung," Donghyuck called softly, his voice breaking the silence of the night.

Minhyung’s head turned, his pale face illuminated by the soft, flickering lantern light. There was a slight furrow in his brow, but when his eyes landed on Donghyuck, a flicker of recognition softened his expression.

"Donghyuck," Minhyung greeted with a small smile, though there was a weariness behind it that Donghyuck couldn’t ignore. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Donghyuck stepped closer, the familiar scent of saltwater mixing with the herbs he had gathered earlier that day. His heart skipped a beat, but he ignored it, focusing on the words he had been rehearsing in his mind.

"I wanted to thank you," he began, his voice thick with gratitude. "For what you did... back at the port market. You saved my life. I don’t think I could ever repay you for that." His gaze dropped to the basket in his hands, his fingers tightening around the woven edges.

Minhyung’s expression softened, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "I didn’t do anything special. You would have done the same for me." His voice was steady, though there was something in his tone that made Donghyuck feel like Minhyung was hiding something—a truth he wasn’t sharing. But it wasn’t the right moment to ask.

"I still feel like I owe you something," Donghyuck said, his chest tightening. He reached into the basket and pulled out a small bundle of neatly wrapped cloth. The herbs, now transformed into salves, were carefully prepared, their faint herbal scent filling the air between them.

"I made these," Donghyuck continued, handing the bundle to Minhyung. "Healing salves. They might help you if you ever get hurt. It’s not much, but it’s something I can give. For all you’ve done."

Minhyung looked at the bundle in his hands, his fingers brushing over the cloth before his gaze lifted back to Donghyuck. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps surprise, or gratitude, but it was gone before Donghyuck could fully read it.

"Thank you," Minhyung said softly, tucking the bundle carefully into the folds of his cloak. "I’ll keep them with me. You’ve been kind."

Donghyuck hesitated, the weight of the moment settling over him. He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I’m leaving soon. I have something important to do... in Carran. I don’t know when I’ll be back. It could be a long time." His words felt heavy on his tongue, as though they carried the burden of what he was about to do.

Minhyung’s eyes flickered with something—something Donghyuck couldn’t place—and his lips parted as if to say something, but he seemed to stop himself. The brief silence between them stretched long, filled with unspoken words.

Donghyuck looked away, the uncertainty weighing on his heart. "I just wanted to say goodbye. In case I don’t come back." His voice dropped to a whisper, the words harder to say than he expected. He hadn’t thought about this moment much, hadn’t imagined how it would feel, but now that it was here, it hurt more than he could have imagined.

There was a long pause, and Donghyuck felt a knot form in his chest, tightening with every passing second.

Minhyung stood then, his movement slow, deliberate. His gaze lingered on Donghyuck, and there was something—perhaps sadness or regret—flickering in his eyes. But then Minhyung nodded once, as though accepting Donghyuck’s words, and took a step closer.

“You’ll do well,” Minhyung said softly, his voice carrying over the sound of the tide. He reached into the pocket of his long coat and withdrew a small object, holding it out to Donghyuck. The younger man blinked, glancing at the pendant now resting in Minhyung’s open palm.

It was simple yet striking—someting of a floral pattern made of amethyst, its edges finely detailed, suspended from a thin chain. The gem gleamed faintly in the lantern light, but there was something about it, an almost imperceptible hum of energy, that made Donghyuck hesitate.

“What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head curiously as he studied the pendant. “You’ve got an odd habit of doing cryptic things, you know.”

Minhyung’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, though his expression remained mostly somber. “It’s just something I own,” he said vaguely, pressing the pendant into Donghyuck’s hand. His touch lingered for a moment, his eyes meeting Donghyuck’s in an almost searching way. “Keep it with you. It might bring you luck.”

Donghyuck frowned, his fingers curling around the cool metal. “Luck, huh? That’s oddly sentimental coming from you.”

"Take care of yourself, Donghyuck," Minhyung said, his voice gentle but firm. "The road ahead won’t be easy, but I have no doubt you’ll make it through. Stay strong."

Donghyuck nodded, his throat thick with emotion. "I will. And thank you again... for everything."

The air between them was thick with the weight of what couldn’t be said, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Donghyuck wanted to say more—to tell Minhyung that he had never met anyone like him, that he had never felt so grateful for someone’s kindness—but the words wouldn’t come.

Minhyung stepped back, his gaze softening one last time before he turned, his cloak trailing behind him as he disappeared into the night. Donghyuck stood there for a moment, the empty basket in his hands suddenly feeling too heavy.

The sound of Minhyung’s footsteps faded into the distance, and Donghyuck was left alone, the quiet of the night enveloping him. The water lapped gently against the docks, a soft reminder that time kept moving forward, no matter how much he wanted to pause it.

He breathed in deeply, his heart still heavy but somehow lighter too.

Tomorrow, the journey would begin. But for now, all he could do was stand there, staring out at the horizon, knowing that this goodbye—this moment—was a part of something bigger, something he couldn’t yet understand.

He stood motionless, his fingers gripping the basket of salves as if holding onto something far more precious, a weight he didn’t fully understand yet. Minhyung’s figure was already fading into the shadows, his long cloak trailing behind him as he walked away.

Donghyuck’s heart thudded painfully in his chest, the words he had been wanting to say lodged somewhere deep inside him, too tangled to form into coherent speech. His breath caught in his throat as he stood there, frozen in the moment, watching Minhyung disappear into the night. The finality of their parting—the thought that this could be the last time they would see each other—felt like a tightening knot in his chest, suffocating him slowly.

Then, before he could stop himself, before he could think of the consequences, Donghyuck found himself moving. His feet carried him forward, and before his mind could catch up, he reached out, grabbing Minhyung’s arm. His fingers burned where they touched the fabric of Minhyung’s cloak, as if trying to anchor himself to the moment before it slipped away forever.

Minhyung paused, his body stiffening at the sudden touch. He turned slowly, and his gaze met Donghyuck’s, those pale, unreadable eyes softening just for a moment. The silence stretched between them, thick and charged with unspoken words.

Donghyuck’s breath hitched. His heart raced, his lips parted, but no sound came. He opened his mouth again, trying to speak, to express everything he felt swirling inside—his gratitude, his longing, the connection he felt—but the words got caught in his throat. It was as if his chest had closed around them, and no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn’t break free.

Minhyung’s eyes softened, and a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand reached up, gently brushing against Donghyuck’s face, his fingers so light that they almost didn’t feel real. The touch was warm, and it seemed to melt some of the tension in Donghyuck’s body.

“Donghyuck…” Minhyung whispered, his voice like a soft caress against the cold air.

Donghyuck blinked, his lips trembling with the effort to speak, but still no words came. His heart was a storm inside him, and he could only stand there, staring at Minhyung, wishing he could say everything that was bursting inside him. His fingers dug into Minhyung’s cloak, as if to keep him from disappearing into the darkness forever.

Minhyung let out a quiet breath, his gaze searching Donghyuck’s face as though he could see the turmoil within him. And then, before Donghyuck could fully comprehend what was happening, Minhyung leaned down. His hand cupped Donghyuck’s face, drawing him closer, and the world seemed to stop.

For a brief, perfect moment, Donghyuck could do nothing but stare into Minhyung’s eyes, the distance between them vanishing with each passing second. There was no more room for hesitation, no more time for fear of the unknown. Minhyung’s lips brushed against his in a kiss so gentle it felt like a promise, like the softest of goodbyes.

Donghyuck’s breath caught, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he closed his eyes, letting the kiss swallow all the words that he had failed to say. There was so much he wanted to convey, but in that moment, the kiss said it all—the gratitude, the longing, the ache of what they were about to lose. He could taste the salt of the sea on Minhyung’s lips, feel the warmth of his breath as it mingled with his own. It was everything Donghyuck had ever wanted, and yet, he knew it was fleeting.

Everything felt like ending before they even started.

When Minhyung pulled away, the world seemed to shift back into motion. Donghyuck’s heart was still pounding, and his eyes fluttered open, meeting Minhyung’s gaze one last time. The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the weight of their unspoken words.

“I have to go, Donghyuck,” Minhyung said softly, his voice a hushed murmur. “I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

Donghyuck nodded slowly, the words stuck in his throat, unable to come out. His hands were still trembling, his chest aching with the finality of the moment. He wanted to say so much more, to beg Minhyung to stay, to hold him for just a little longer, but he knew it was pointless. Minhyung’s path was set, and Donghyuck’s was too. They were both standing on the edge of separate journeys, and nothing could change that.

“I’ll miss you,” Donghyuck whispered, his voice barely above the wind’s sigh.

Minhyung gave him a small, sad smile, his eyes reflecting a sadness that mirrored Donghyuck’s own. “I’ll miss you too.”

With that, Minhyung turned away, his cloak swaying with the breeze as he walked toward the shadowy path that led away from the docks. Donghyuck stood there, watching him disappear into the night, the weight of his heart pulling him down with every step that Minhyung took away from him.

The moment stretched on, lingering like the taste of the kiss on his lips, bittersweet and fleeting. Donghyuck closed his eyes, feeling the cool wind wash over him, knowing that this was the last time he would see Minhyung. And yet, in that final, aching goodbye, he held onto the feeling that had been shared between them—the connection that had, for a brief moment, filled the emptiness in his heart.

As Minhyung’s figure faded into the dark, Donghyuck finally let go, his chest heavy but his heart more whole than it had ever been. The sea whispered its lullaby to him, and as he turned away, he took a step toward his own destiny, carrying the memory of that kiss—the last, lingering touch—deep inside him, where it would stay forever.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The morning fog still clung to the edges of the port, a soft, ethereal veil that blurred the line between sea and sky. Minhyung sat by the water’s edge, his thoughts a tangled mess, as waves crashed rhythmically against the docks. He had spent the past few days wandering, half-heartedly listening to the voices of the market, distracted by something he couldn’t quite place. His fingers traced the edge of the bundle of healing salves at his side, a strange weight in his chest that had only deepened since Donghyuck left.

The fishermen were among the first to pass by, their weathered faces grim as they spoke of the day's news. Minhyung didn’t pay much attention at first, his mind wandering in and out of thoughts of the young apothecary and their brief, bittersweet parting. But then, a word caught his attention, sharp and clear.

"Carran," one of the fishermen muttered, his voice low with fear. "They’re sending knights to Carran. To try to retrieve the black fire and stop the blood witches. But it's a lost cause—those witches will probably find and slaughter them all, every last one."

The words struck Minhyung like a thunder. His heart stilled for a moment, a chill running down his spine. Carran—the land of eternal autumn, the kingdom he had heard about in passing stories of riches and flames. But now, it was a place of possible death, and the mention of knights being sent there, to face the blood witches, filled him with an inexplicable dread.

Minhyung stood up sharply, his thoughts racing. Donghyuck.

He hadn’t even considered it, but now the pieces fell into place. Donghyuck had left for Carran with a purpose—something important, something that had required him to take that perilous journey. And now, with the news of knights heading toward that kingdom, Minhyung could only assume that Donghyuck might be caught in the heart of it.

His mind went blank for a moment, heart pounding, as memories of the young apothecary flooded his thoughts. Donghyuck had been so determined, so full of life and warmth, and Minhyung had let him walk away, unsure whether he would ever see him again.

But now the world seemed to shift on its axis. The thought of Donghyuck—innocent, kind, with his heart too large for his own safety—facing such unimaginable danger without anyone to protect him sent a surge of urgency through Minhyung’s veins.

Without thinking, Minhyung turned toward the narrow alleyways leading out of the port. He couldn’t just wait. He had to go. He had to help Donghyuck before it was too late.

As he walked, his thoughts clouded by the images of blood witches and the haunting rumors, Minhyung felt something stir deep inside him—a power he had buried for so long, one he had been running from. It was time. Time to return to the place he calls home. Time to face the truth of who he really was.

His path had always been unclear, shrouded in the shadows of his own past, but now, it was undeniable. He could no longer hide. If the blood witches were to hurt Donghyuck, then they would have to answer to him.

But for now it was time for Minhyung to return home.

Back at the docks, the fishermen continued their quiet conversation, unaware of the quiet storm that had just set sail on the horizon. They spoke of the knights’ doomed mission, but none of them knew that the one who would stand against the blood witches was not a knight, nor a simple traveler—but something far darker, far older, and far more powerful.

Minhyung didn’t need to be a knight to stop the blood witches. He had his own dragons to call upon.

#nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au #nct #mahae #markhyuck

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queenkeiji · 11 months ago

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spidermark loves haechan 🕸️🐻

#queenkeiji #nct #markhyuck #mahae #markdong #markchan #dongmark #nct fanart #nct dream #nct 127 #spidermark #au where mark is spiderman and haechan is his lovely bf #it’s my first time posting nct art omg?#markhyuck fanart

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meowmk · 9 months ago

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an early birthday gift for the lovely @likeawhhat

i hate you dearly <3

(for context he has been harassing me for weeks to write an au so it’s in the works- ur welcome u goober)

also i will be gate keeping details rn to keep you on your toes 😼 but here’s a sneak peek

i’m gonna be a twitter au with some dialogue but like… i’m gonna update it on here because i don’t really use twitter and also this is my home

(and as always if u don’t like it or wtv don’t interact!! love u bunches)

- haerin <3

#nct #nct dream #nct 127 #mark #mark lee #nct mark #haechan #nct haechan #lee haechan #mahae #markhyuck #nct au #nct twitter au #nct fanfic #nct ff #nct fake texts #nct fake tweets #meowmk

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jstablackjack21-alc · 6 months ago

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#i'm not asking for much #but if anyone like to write bridgerton AU for #verkwan #markhyuck #sungtaro #i would very much appreciate it

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kaesficrecarchive · 1 year ago

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(1040/? | E)

Markhyuck au wherein

jaemin’s boyfriend dumps him before winter break ends and mark lee, like the good best friend that he is, accepts to share a room with the douchebag so jaemin won’t have to or: mark learns not to judge a book by its cover

#apparently you can't share twitter links on tumblr anymore? or i just don't know how anyway #markhyuck fic rec #markhyuck #mark x haechan #mark x donghyuck #nct 127 #nct dream #twitter au #t: enemies to lovers #t: enemies to fwb to lovers #t: fwb to lovers #t: slow burn #t: roommates #c: kpop #rpf #rating: e

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wakeupmoonchild · 2 years ago

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wind through your window

a markhyuck spiderman au

summary: spider!mark has a secret and it has heartbreaking consequences — donghyuck begging for his heart

author’s note: would you believe a tiktok inspired this? enjoy! ✨

part two

Donghyuck’s head falls onto Mark’s shoulder while forgetting the world. His hands grip the fabric of his back in a desperate wish to not lose him.

Only this time, it’s different.

In Mark’s arms is Donghyuck’s cold body – full of pale skin and fading eyes. There’s rivers of red drenching his suit and his eyes fill with terror once he finds where it’s coming from.

There’s a hole in Donghyuck’s chest and it’s so close to the heart that Mark’s horrified to move even a single millimeter for it might take his entire world away.

He looks up into the sky and sees the devil that has done this. A goblin with a manic smile and a bleeding spear. Mark wants revenge but Donghyuck needs him.

“Funny how you care so much for a stranger.”

Mark lets the enemy flee. There will be a day for him.

He doesn’t want this — to not know how this is happening.

He doesn’t want this — to not know what to do.

He doesn’t want this — for tears to cloud his vision and to want nothing but to tear his mask off but can’t.

Mark shoots webs and webs to Donghyuck’s chest, desperately trying to close the wound. The fibers fail when he needs them most.

“Edith! Edith, what do I do?!”

“Organic tissue doesn’t respond to your webs, Mark.”

“So what do I do?! I’m losing him! I—I don’t want to lose him!”

Then it hits him. If his webs can’t save him, then maybe his hands will.

“Wait—wait, Edith! Use my suit!”

“Nanotech can’t—“

“It can! Just trust me!” Mark presses one hand next to the gaping hole in Donghyuck’s chest. The other holds his hand tightly.

Mark‘s voice fades into the background as Donghyuck becomes whole again, yet his pale skin and teetering life force still grips at Mark’s conscience like a vice.

He doesn’t waste time in carrying him to a hospital.

————————————

The sun’s rays cast color onto Donghyuck’s sleeping face.

He’s so beautiful. Mark sighs and feels guilty that fate tangled Donghyuck into his mess.

It is why he’ll leave when he wakes. Even when Donghyuck only knows him as Mark, it’s obvious that his life as a hero will follow like a ghost.

The insurmountable regret consumes him and Mark decides to stop waiting, but as he rises…

“I knew it was you.”

Mark turns back to Donghyuck, who is apparently wide awake.

“Of course it’s me, Donghyuck.”

“No. I know, Mark. I know who you are.”

Mark’s world can’t shatter any faster. After all he’s done to keep Donghyuck alive, he’s still flying too close to the sun.

“What do you mean?”

“Spider Man.”

Tears threaten, and Mark struggles to hold them back.

“H-how?”

“I know the way you hold my hand.”

Water flows down Mark’s cheeks. Damn the world. Donghyuck is all he cares for.

He rushes back, takes Donghyuck’s hand into his, and kisses apologies into every knuckle.

“You could’ve told me. I’d understand.”

“I thought I was protecting you.”

Donghyuck reaches over with his other hand to caress Mark’s head. Every touch is consolation—no, forgiveness.

“Why aren’t you angry?”

“Oh, I am…but right now I’m just happy you’re here. Really here. I don’t feel the distance anymore.”

Mark rubs his cheek against Donghyuck’s hand. How could he be so lucky to have him?

“I love you.” Mark admits. He should’ve said it before.

“I love you too.” When Donghyuck says it back, everything feels right.

Maybe the world can wait just once.

#lee donghyuck #mark lee #markhyuck #spidermark #spiderman #spiderman au #angst with a happy ending #brief mention of a huge wound

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s666j · 5 months ago

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009 | freedom

19-D until Olympics.

“So… we’re, uh, together here,” Mark said, breaking the silence. His eyes flickered around the room, avoiding Haechan’s gaze. “This is… weird, right?”

Haechan let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, definitely weird. I didn’t exactly plan on waking up to find out I have a boyfriend I’ve never met before.”

They shifted uncomfortably, the reality of their situation settling over them like a heavy fog. The previous night had been a whirlwind of confusion, trying to understand their new roles and navigate the intricacies of their identities in this universe.

“I guess we need to figure out how to act around everyone else,” Haechan suggested, glancing at the photos on the wall depicting moments from this universe’s life—moments he hadn’t experienced but now had to pretend to know.

Mark nodded, his expression thoughtful but strained. “Yeah, probably. We should, um, act normal. Pretend like nothing’s changed, even though everything has.”

Their conversation was punctuated by awkward pauses, each grappling with the strange new dynamic between them. They were supposed to be partners here, but in reality, they were strangers, each unsure of how to proceed.

“So, what’s the plan?” Haechan asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between them, his voice laced with underlying tension.

Mark hesitated, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory. “Maybe we should skip classes today. We need time to adjust, and I don’t think I can focus on anything right now.”

Haechan nodded in agreement. “Yeah, sounds good. I wouldn’t even know where to start with classes in this world.”

They decided to take the day off, choosing instead to explore the campus. Every step felt like walking through a dream, each interaction a carefully orchestrated performance as they attempted to learn more about their new lives. They spoke to people they didn’t know but had to pretend to recognize, piecing together fragments of their new identities from overheard conversations and casual interactions.

Despite their awkwardness, they began to form a tentative alliance, united by their shared predicament. The strangeness of their situation made it difficult to connect, but they knew they had to rely on each other to navigate this new world.

“I guess we should try to learn as much as we can about who we’re supposed to be here,” Mark suggested, his voice thoughtful but edged with uncertainty.

“Yeah, like a crash course in living someone else’s life,” Haechan replied, a hint of humor softening his tone.

They spent the morning walking through the quad, watching as students streamed past, absorbed in their own worlds. The sky was a brilliant blue, a stark contrast to the storm of confusion that raged within them. Each moment felt like a stolen glance into a life they didn’t own.

Haechan noticed Mark’s occasional glances at his surroundings, the way his eyes lingered on the small details of the world around them. It was as if Mark were seeing everything for the first time, each sight and sound a new discovery. It made Haechan wonder just how different Mark’s world had been—how limited his experiences were compared to this.

Haechan himself felt strangely exposed, aware of how different his upbringing had been. Years of training had instilled in him a sense of discipline and focus that left little room for spontaneity or socializing. He had always lived a life of structure, every moment accounted for, every action measured. This world, with its freedom and unpredictability, was foreign to him.

They continued their exploration, the campus unfolding before them like a map they were struggling to decipher. Haechan found himself scrutinizing the faces they passed, trying to memorize names and stories, piecing together a narrative that made sense.

The afternoon passed in a blur as they adjusted to their new environment. Just as they began to feel slightly comfortable, a knock on the door interrupted their musings. Haechan opened it to find Jaemin, grinning broadly.

“Hey, you two! Are you coming to the party tonight?” Jaemin asked, excitement radiating from him. “It’s going to be epic, and you guys can’t miss it!”

Haechan exchanged a quick, awkward glance with Mark. Attending a party felt daunting given their situation, but it was an opportunity to learn more about their lives here.

“Yeah, sure,” Haechan replied, trying to sound natural, his voice steady even as anxiety twisted in his gut. “We’ll be there.”

Jaemin clapped him on the back. “Awesome! It starts around nine. See you then!”

As the evening approached, Haechan felt a growing sense of apprehension. Parties were common in Universe A, but the thought of pretending to be someone else in a social setting was nerve-wracking. He watched Mark as they got ready, noticing the tension in his movements, the way his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his clothes.

“You okay?” Haechan asked, attempting to sound casual but failing to mask the concern in his voice.

Mark hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, just… trying to get used to all this. It’s weird.”

Haechan managed a small smile, trying to inject some levity into the situation. “Tell me about it. But maybe the party will help. We can learn more about the people here.”

Mark offered a weak smile in return, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

When they arrived at Jaemin’s apartment, the party was already in full swing. Music pulsed through the air, and laughter filled the rooms. Mark looked around with wide eyes, taking in the scene with a mix of awe and nervousness. It was overwhelming, this sudden immersion into a life that felt so vibrant and alive.

“Let’s grab a drink,” Mark suggested, making his way to the makeshift bar in the kitchen, his voice barely audible over the music.

Haechan followed, watching as Mark poured himself a drink, then another, as if trying to relax in the unfamiliar setting. The atmosphere was intoxicating, a sharp contrast to the sterile confines of the hospital he was used to in Universe B. It was a world he’d only glimpsed through screens and stories, a reality that had seemed so distant.

As the night wore on, Mark’s inhibitions seemed to dissolve with each drink. He laughed loudly, dancing with abandon, and talked animatedly with people he had only just met. The alcohol fueled his desire to embrace this new world fully, to live a life he’d only dreamed of.

Haechan, on the other hand, remained reserved, his disciplined nature making it difficult to let go and enjoy the moment. He watched Mark with growing unease, feeling the tension between them start to build. Every laugh, every wild gesture, was a reminder of how different they were, how out of sync.

Years of training had prohibited Haechan from enjoying a normal social life. His schedule had been filled with rehearsals, practices, and performances, leaving little room for parties or the carefree laughter of youth. He had always been focused on achieving perfection, on meeting expectations, and now, in this world where he was supposed to be free, he felt more confined than ever.

“Mark, maybe you should slow down,” Haechan suggested gently, trying not to sound too controlling, but the edge of worry in his voice was unmistakable.

Mark waved him off, a wide grin on his face, eyes bright with a reckless glee. “Come on, Haechan! We’re supposed to be having fun. Just let me enjoy this, okay?”

Haechan’s frustration bubbled inside as he watched Mark continue to drink and party. In Universe B, Haechan was used to discipline and focus, and seeing Mark so reckless was unsettling. It was as if Mark were trying to make up for lost time, each moment a desperate grasp at the freedom he’d never known.

Their friends began to notice the tension. Jaemin approached them, concern etched across his features. “Hey, is everything okay with you guys? You seem a little… off tonight.”

Haechan forced a smile, trying to brush off the concern. “Yeah, we’re fine. Just a long day,” he replied, but the words felt hollow, a thin veneer over the truth.

But the truth was harder to hide. Mark’s antics were drawing attention, and the awkwardness between them was palpable. As Mark stumbled over to them, his words slurred, Haechan felt his patience snap.

“Mark, seriously, you need to stop,” Haechan said, his voice sharper than he intended, frustration bleeding through despite his efforts to remain calm.

Mark blinked at him, a mixture of confusion and defiance in his eyes. “Why are you being like this? I just want to live a little.”

Haechan’s frustration flared, fueled by the differences between them and the weight of their new reality. “Living a little doesn’t mean losing control.”

The argument simmered between them, a silent acknowledgment of how out of sync they were in this world. Jaemin watched them, his concern deepening as he sensed the discord between his friends.

As the night deepened, Mark’s drunkenness became more pronounced. He leaned against the wall, laughing at nothing in particular, eyes glazed over with a mixture of happiness and melancholy. It was a bittersweet sight, this glimpse into a life unfettered by illness, and yet so fragile.

“Mark, you’re really drunk,” Haechan said, trying to steer him away from the crowd and toward a quieter corner, his voice filled with a mix of concern and irritation.

Mark giggled, his movements unsteady. “I know. Isn’t it great? I’ve never been this free before.”

Haechan sighed, frustration and concern battling within him. “We need to get you home.”

“No! I’m not done yet,” Mark protested, pulling away and stumbling back toward the party, where the music thumped louder, a chaotic heartbeat that matched his own.

Haechan hesitated, torn between the urge to let Mark have his moment and the responsibility of keeping him safe. As he watched Mark trip over his own feet and fall into a chair, the decision was made for him.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Haechan said firmly, moving to help Mark up. “We’re leaving.”

Mark pouted, but he didn’t resist as Haechan guided him through the crowded room. Their friends watched them go, confused and concerned by the uncharacteristic tension. It was a silent departure, marked by the unspoken understanding that something had shifted between them.

Once outside, the cool night air hit them like a splash of water. Mark swayed on his feet, leaning heavily on Haechan as they made their way back to the dorm.

“Why are you so serious all the time?” Mark mumbled, his words slurring together, each syllable a struggle. “Life’s too short for that.”

Haechan sighed, struggling to hold back his annoyance. “I know, but we’re in this together, and we need to be careful. People are going to notice if we act too different.”

Mark was silent for a moment, then muttered, “I just wanted to know what it felt like.”

Haechan’s heart softened as he realized the depth of Mark’s desire to experience life beyond the confines of illness. “I get it. But there’s a time and a place, Mark.”

The walk back to the dorm was quiet, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city at night. Haechan supported Mark as they made their way across campus, careful to avoid the few other students who were still out and about. The cool night air seemed to have a sobering effect on Mark, though he remained unsteady on his feet.

Once they reached the dorm room, Haechan guided Mark inside, helping him sit on the bed. Mark let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he tried to focus his bleary eyes.

“Thanks,” Mark muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion and alcohol. “For getting me out of there.”

Haechan gave a small nod, sitting down on the edge of his own bed across the room, maintaining a deliberate distance. “No problem. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything you’d regret.”

Mark chuckled softly, the sound tinged with bitterness. “Regret. Yeah, got plenty of that already.”

Haechan glanced at him, unsure of how to respond. Despite the vulnerability Mark was showing, Haechan felt a strong pull to remain detached. He was disciplined, used to focusing on what was necessary and logical, and he struggled with the emotional weight of Mark’s situation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Haechan asked, keeping his tone neutral, offering the option without pushing.

Mark was silent for a moment, staring at his hands. Then he began to speak, his voice low and raw. “I’ve been sick for a long time. Cancer. It’s… it’s been a part of my life for years now.”

Haechan listened, nodding slightly but maintaining his emotional distance. “That sounds really tough,” he said, his voice calm but lacking the warmth that might invite deeper connection.

Mark nodded, his gaze distant as he continued. “I used to be so full of dreams, you know? Had all these plans for my life. But then… everything just stopped. The hospital became my world.”

Haechan watched him, feeling a flicker of sympathy but unsure how to express it. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he offered, still keeping his emotions in check.

Mark continued, seemingly needing to unburden himself. “It was like being in a cage, watching the world move on without me. I missed out on so much… so many things I’ll never get to do.”

Haechan nodded again, recognizing the depth of Mark’s pain but struggling to let down his own barriers. His disciplined nature kept him from fully engaging with the emotional intensity of Mark’s story.

“And now… now I’m here,” Mark said, gesturing vaguely around the room. “In this life where I can walk and breathe without pain, where I’m not constantly reminded of how fragile everything is.”

Mark looked at Haechan, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation. “I just wanted to feel alive, even if it was just for a night.”

Haechan nodded, understanding the desire but unsure how to respond. “I get it,” he said simply, acknowledging Mark’s experience without opening himself up too much.

The room fell into silence, the weight of what had been shared hanging between them. Haechan felt a mix of respect and discomfort, aware of the challenges Mark had faced but still holding himself at arm’s length.

“Thanks for listening,” Mark said eventually, his voice quieter now, more sober.

“Sure,” Haechan replied, his tone still reserved. “We’re in this together, so… it’s fine.”

Mark nodded, seeming to accept Haechan’s detached support. “Yeah. Together.”

As Mark lay back on the bed, finally succumbing to sleep, Haechan remained seated for a while, reflecting on everything he had learned. The distance between them remained, a reminder of how different they were and the challenges they faced in this new world.

They were two strangers thrown together by fate, navigating a world that was both familiar and alien. And for now, that would have to be enough.

After ensuring Mark was safely tucked into bed, Haechan quietly left the room. He needed space to think, to clear his mind of the tangled mess of emotions that had built up over the course of the night. The air in the dorm felt stifling, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid between him and Mark.

The night was cool and quiet as Haechan stepped outside, the campus bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. He felt a familiar itch in his muscles, a restless energy that had no outlet in this new world. Back home, he’d often run late at night, pushing himself until his legs ached and his mind was blessedly clear. It was a ritual, a way to keep the doubts and fears at bay. But now, in this unfamiliar body, the ritual felt almost impossible.

His thoughts drifted to the Olympics in Beijing, looming on the horizon like a specter. The pressure was immense, a constant reminder of what he was supposed to be working towards. Every day that passed without training was a day lost, a day closer to failure. The stakes were incredibly high—not just for his career, but for his identity as an athlete.

Without the usual tools at his disposal—no phone to check in with coaches, no familiar routines—Haechan felt adrift. The idea of running through campus was appealing, a way to reclaim some semblance of normalcy. But as he took the first tentative steps, his muscles protested, sluggish and unfamiliar. It was as if his body had forgotten how to move, how to respond to the demands he placed upon it.

Frustration bubbled within him, sharp and bitter. He pushed harder, forcing his legs to move faster, willing them to remember the rhythm and power they once had. But it was no use. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat out of sync. It felt wrong, all wrong, and the realization hit him like a blow.

He slowed to a stop, bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for air. Anger and despair warred within him, a toxic mix that left him trembling. How was he supposed to compete in the Olympics like this? How could he face his coaches, his teammates, with nothing to show for all those years of work?

Haechan sank to the ground, the cold earth seeping through his clothes. He buried his face in his hands, feeling the hot sting of tears he refused to shed. The weight of his situation pressed down on him, heavy and relentless. He was trapped in a life that wasn’t his own, with a body that wouldn’t listen, and a future that seemed to slip further from his grasp with each passing day.

The dreams he’d held onto for so long—the podium, the medals, the moment of triumph—seemed impossibly distant, as if belonging to another person entirely. How could he reconcile who he was meant to be with the reality of who he was now?

In the stillness of the night, Haechan felt the full force of his isolation. He was alone, truly alone, in a world that didn’t know him, didn’t understand what he was fighting for. And that loneliness cut deeper than any failure ever could.

He stayed there for a long time, letting the night envelop him, his thoughts a jumbled mess of fear and longing. The Olympic dream was still there, a flicker of hope amid the darkness, but it felt fragile, as if it could be extinguished at any moment.

Eventually, Haechan forced himself to stand, but the strength he usually felt after a run was absent. He was left with nothing but a hollow ache in his chest and the knowledge that the path to the Olympics, to his old life, seemed farther away than ever. There was no comfort in the night air, no clarity in his thoughts. Just an overwhelming sense of loss and a future as uncertain as the world he now found himself in.

As he made his way back to the dorm, the weight of reality pressed heavily on him. There were no answers, no reassurances. Only the chilling thought that the life he had known, the life he had worked so hard to build, might never be his again.

With each step, the realization settled deeper in his bones: he was adrift, without a map, without a compass, in a life that wasn’t his own. And as he lay back down, listening to Mark’s even breathing in the dark, he knew that sleep would bring no solace, only the inescapable truth of his predicament.

#nct dream #haechan #mark lee #markhyuck au #mahae au #nct #nct 127 #donghyuck #lee donghyuck

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