#this is on his “i love my husband” playlist btw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fanaticsnail · 4 months

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WHATS UPP, so I read the dreaming of you oneshot thingy on your page (Koby, smoker AND HELMEPPO) so I was wondering if you would be able to make something more of helmeppo. I read your request page and I know you might not write it but i was just curious. I’m not picky at all but since it’s helmeppo i figured it could be something like enemies to lovers.. (DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THAT IM FINE WITH ANYTHING!!) I’ve never requested anything on tumblr so sorry if I’m doing it wrong btw. I have a playlist if you’d like that for ideas 😼 (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0q63LD9Kt49EDxlOxCCQ7m?si=cWh4kWT-SR-x2evxlXn97Q&pi=u-vige6yADR-Oe) SORRY ITS A LONG LINK 😨

Hi there! I love how enthusiastic you are about Helmeppo. Not gonna lie, I definitely felt the need to write him a one-shot after that one. I love your playlist!

Bound to the Enemy

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,100+

Synopsis: Engaged in a heated battle between pirates and marines on neutral ground had the locals enact a punishment befitting the crime. Bound back to back with a marine, you come up with a plan to work together to break out of the trap and return to your crew.

Themes: Helmeppo x reader, enemies to lovers, mutual loathing, mutual pining, peril and dread, kissing, fluff, little bit of angst, bittersweet farewells.

Notes: Chef-Husband has been making me watch MacGyver. I apologise if this wasn't exactly what you were looking for, but I did have a lot of fun with it.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Slowly bobbing your head from side to side, you hummed a merry tune from your childhood to reverberate and ricochet within the damp cavern walls. Drops of water from the pointed stalactites dripped onto your head, drenching your already soaked clothes with further murkiness from the oceanic roof.

The ropes gripping your shoulders and wrists burned with a crude jolt from your companion behind you, causing you to yelp mid-word with your song. In light of his tugging, you simply laughed and sang louder.

“The sails lay flat, the wind in her back; the ropes lay in a bind,” you yelled your tune, the echo of your voice calling back at you in a taunting mockery, “The women did wail, as the sailors set sail, leaving their seed behind-.”

“-Are you quite finished?!” His aggravated tone cut your voice off, tugging the ropes and prompting you to lull your head behind you on his shoulder. “It’s bad enough being bound to a damn pirate, let alone one that doesn’t shut up!” You laughed from your position, back to back and tied to the enemy while sitting atop a large rock and awaiting death.

“Aww, pretty marine,” you coo at him behind you, nuzzling almost affectionately against his shoulder with a hint of teasing, “I thought my singing would bring such joy as we await our imminent doom.” He shrugged away from your head, prompting you to laugh harder as he burned you with the intensity of your ties.

Both of your hands were bound to each other at the wrists, your companion wriggling and attempting to free himself the moment he awoke from behind you. Your crews arrived at this strange island at the same time, immediately engaging in a heated battle filled with bloodshed and chaos. The locals did not take kindly to the ruckus and immediately implored you to stick to their stance with neutrality.

Both your crew and the marine crew surrendered and awaited adequate punishment for tainting the shore with battle and bloodshed. The punishment chosen for you was to select a member of each crew, bind them together in ropes, and place them in a cave mouth to await the tide to enter. If you managed to escape before the water choked you with its salty embrace, the marines and the pirates would be permitted to leave. If you drowned, both crews would live out the days on the island and serve the queen as her loyal slaves.

Before your captain or the pink-haired marine captain could react and volunteer themselves, both you and the blondie stepped forward and gave yourselves up. Without further warning, both of you were injected with a local toxin to cause you to fall into a deep slumber, likely to make the journey more difficult to return to your crews.

“These ropes are strong,” he growled, thrusting his chest forward and prompting you to arch your back up into him, “I can’t get the damn thing loose.” You simply offer him a condescending “Mm-hmm, that’s the point,” and let him keep moving your body around to wriggle free.

“When you’re quite ready,” you offer him, wincing as he leaned forward, “I have a blade hidden in my back pocket. I can reach it, but I will need you to stop wriggling so I can get to it.” He huffed out an exasperated breath and you felt him shake his head in agitation.

“And why are you telling me this now, pirate?” he growled at you, attempting to look at you over his shoulder to no avail, “You could’ve cut us out the whole time, and neglected to mention it?” You laughed, feeling his hands go limp to allow you to search through your pockets without a struggle.

“You were too busy being a grumpy marine to use your mind,” you shrugged, feeling the handle of the blade with your fingertips, “Always underestimating your opponents and too hot headed to exercise your brain along with your other muscles.” You use your index and middle fingers to draw the blade closer to you, finally clutching it in your hands.

The seaspray began to rise, the cave mouth starting to fill with the swell of water just as you readied the small knife to cut your bonds.

“If I nick you with the blade,” you smirk, beginning to cut through the fibers, “I’m not sorry.” The man behind you began to growl at you, holding still and allowing you to work at the ropes with ease. The first few strands came loose, giving your wrists enough room to wriggle a little easier to get enough momentum to cut easier.

“What’s your name, anyway, marine?” you asked him suddenly, feeling a little bolder and at ease now that your bonds were turning loose. He inhaled a soft breath, uttering quietly to you in response.

“Helmeppo,” he confessed his name with a soft nod, “And you, pirate?” You giggle in response, uttering your name hastily before rolling his title over on your tongue to sample the flavor.

“And who are you to your captain, Helmeppo?” you ask him, humming the same tune from earlier, a little quieter as you worked. He exhaled a laugh through his nose, “I am his first mate and swordsman. You?”

“I am the navigator and blade thrower,” you nod along, the tune never ceasing as you feel one of your wrists finally come loose. You raise it to your side and give it a soft shake and breathe slowly while stretching the limb.

Making quick work on the other side now that your wrist was free, you reach up and begin to saw at the bonds around your chest and shoulders, noticing the ties are a little more complex than you assumed they were initially. Cutting through the strands, you finally feel them come loose enough to wriggle free.

“Well now,” you sighed in relief, beginning to stand on the large rock and look down to the icy depths of the sea, “Can you swim, first-mate? Not a devil-fruit user by any chance, are you?” You looked to the blonde man beside you as he shook his head.

“I’m not the best swimmer, unfortunately,” he confessed, looking down at the sea rising up the rock, “Not a user, though. I can stay afloat just fine.” You nod along, looking at the cave mouth and angling your chin to the side with narrow eyes.

“That doesn’t look right to me,” you nod your forehead to the mouth of the cave, “The light is all wrong, and the swell in water is too rapid. I think it's a false entrance.” He looked to the mouth and nodded his head along.

“You’re the navigator,” he nodded to you, testing your knowledge beneath his staring gaze, “I am electing to trust you with this. Where do you think we should start?” You hummed in thought, gazing up at the roof and narrowing your eyes at the sight of the luminescent lights surrounding the stalactites.

“Not a swimmer, but are you a climber?” you asked him, reaching for his chin with your index finger and thumb before turning his attention to the ceiling, “We need to go up there.” He allowed you to move his face and look at the small opening in the roof wall. He sighed another huff of exasperated breath and shook his head.

“If I had my sword, it would be far easier to scale the walls,” he nodded, looking around the rock you were standing on. The surface was like an island in comparison to the other rocks surrounding the room, no way off the surface without swimming, and no way up without reaching the spherical sides to the rocky room.

You hummed, tucking your blade back behind you and looked down into the water, noticing a faint light coming from the center beneath the rock. Widening your eyes, you stared more intentionally beneath the water, noticing the light began to travel towards you both.

“Helmeppo?” you ask him with a small hint of panic, backing away from the water below, “I don’t think we’re alone in here.” You held onto his arm and dragged him to the center of the rock, looking up at the tiny hole in the roof before looking at your blonde, apprehensive companion.

Darting his eyes down to the depths below, he noticed the same scaly visage beneath the surface, swirling in a circle around the rock you were marooned on. He darted his eyes back to you and drifted his eyes frantically around your features.

“A sea beast?” He asked in a low tone, prompting you to nod in confirmation. He sucked in a hiss through his teeth and looked up to the small hole above you, “We’re going to need to find some type of raft to have us go through the water towards the walls, and pray the beast doesn’t consume us. Then climb to the top of the cave with nothing but our knuckles, aren’t we?”

You look up at the ceiling before looking at the fraying strands of rope you hacked at moments prior. Cursing under your breath, you dropped to your knees and began reweaving the strands that you cut with your dagger.

“Fuck,” you bark at yourself, grimacing as you hastily rotate the strands and coil them back together. He looked down to your position and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what was occurring. Sniffing back your stupidity, the water continued racing in from the false cave mouth and elevating the water level higher.

“Can you fix it before the water reaches us?” He looked to the ropes before looking towards the rapidly rising sea water. You growled, balling your hands into fists and continuing to coil the strands around each other.

“It’ll get done,” you assure him with a rumbly growl in your tone, “But it’s not going to be reinforced enough to hold both of our weight at once.” He cocked his head to the side, a perplexed expression drifting over his face.

“What do you mean?” he asked, kneeling beside you and searching your face for hidden intentions. You huff out a shaky breath, gesturing to your back pocket and to the ends of the rope.

“I’m going to attach the rope to the blade, throw it through the hole and wind against a stalactite,” you nod upwards, refusing to turn your eyes away from your busy hands. “Then we're going to climb through the hole and reach the surface,” you admit, finally looking up at him, “But we can’t both go at the same time. The rope is too frail and fragile.”

His eyes widened, searching your eyes for dishonesty and ill intent. Upon finding none, he growled beneath his breath.

“So, what then?” he huffed out, a small scoff underlying in his tone, “One of us climbs up and then the other begins the climb up after? Is that what you’re suggesting-.”

“-That’s precisely what I’m suggesting,” you cut him off with a soft snarl, “One of us will have to wait and trust the other from their position above.” You continued coiling and twisting the ropes, your hands shaking in a soft rage and lip quivering in reaction to the fear of what’s to come.

After a soft moment of silence, you concluded your twisting and looked up at the blonde-haired marine beside you.

“I have impeccable aim,” you reassure him, fastening the end to your blade after you retracted it from your rear pocket, “Hold the end of the rope and let me aim, please. In silence.” He nodded, eagerly taking your orders and you breathed through your concerns as the water rose over the soft edge.

The fins of a large creature slowly flew above the surface, Helmeppo’s eyes widening as he witnessed the scaly spine of the Sea Beast below the surface. You refused to tear away your eyes from the target ahead, exhaling slowly as you aimed at the wall within the hole.

In a swift thrust, you threw the blade within the air and the rope began to soar through the barely illuminated dome towards the stalactites. Embedding with a swift thud, the end of the rope was hanging limply within Helmeppo’s hands as he continued to search the water for the approaching beast circling below.

Turning to him and noticing his look, you breathed out a melancholy breath of air. Hardening your resolve, you gently reached up and squeezed his shoulder to draw his attention back to you.

“Right then,” you nodded with a hasty sniff of steely determination, “Off you go. Quickly.” He turned to you, looking down in shock as you gestured for him to begin the climb. He began to speak, prompting you to shake your head and halt his thoughts.

“Helmeppo,” you reassured him, squeezing him once more, “This is how it has to be. I am a pirate, a blade thrower and a navigator. You are the first-mate to a marine captain and a swordsman. I would not be able to help you with the rope once I got up there, if anything goes awry,” you confess, softly giving him a pat to spur him on, “You would likely not trust me to aid you anyway, and I feel like you would do the right thing if given the opportunity to do so.”

His shock deepened, the rope feeling hot in his hands the longer he held it between his fingers.

“Go, Helmeppo,” you tapped him once more to break him out of his frantically racing thoughts. He gave you a soft nod, gulping back his nerves and beginning a hasty climb up the ropes. He tested his weight, tugging firmly twice before throwing his entire weight into his ascension.

You had no choice but to watch on as the rope began to bend under the strain of his weight. Looking to the water, the levels began gently rising in soft, taunting ripples as the tide began to come in. A call of your name from the blonde swordsman above the ropes redrew your attention to Helmeppo above you.

“Distract yourself,” he ordered you, straining as his arms and thighs curled around the hanging rope. “Sing your silly songs to me, talk to me about your crew, tell me anything you want.” He growled, gritting his teeth and tugging his body above the rope. You gulped back your fear and inhaled a deep lungful of air.

“I have only ever known a life of piracy,” you confessed, nodding your confirmation and solidifying your words, “Born and raised on the sea, reading the stars and charting my course.”

Helmeppo grunted on the ropes, continuing his slow climb as the water rose around you. You continued thinking about the circumstances that brought you here to this moment. Smiling a soft smile, you look down at your toes and reminisce about your life.

“I learned to read the stars from my mother,” you nod slowly, laughing a soft chuckle as you add, “I look like her, too. The crew says she and I are nothing alike, but I like to think we're similar. She was a noble.” You admit, looking back up to Helmeppo as he nearly reached the top.

He huffs and pants, finally drawing his fingers up to the coarse wall and reaching for a sturdy rock to grip. Reflecting on your words, he thinks over your confessions with interest but remains too preoccupied in his task to ask you any questions.

The water rises closer to your toes, two beady eyes glaring at you beneath the surface and waiting for the water to lap at your ankles before making its move. You pay the eyes no mind, looking up and reassuring Helmeppo as he attempts to grip the walls for a third time to no avail.

“You're doing well,” you offer him with no malice or sarcasm in your tone, “Take your time, I'll be right here.” He scoffed out a soft laugh at your response, wedging the rope between his thighs and using your blade attached to the top to pull himself closer to the wall.

The water caresses your toes with a soft propulsion, your heels not faring better as the water continues to rise to the peak of the small, rocky island within the damp dome. You scrunch your eyes shut, thinking about the outcome should you both fail this task. Both crews would perish on this island in servitude for the locals, your crews would mourn for you, and you would be good for the beast below the surface.

“You can do this, Helmeppo,” you again reassure him, gulping back your shaking fear and propelling confidence in your tone. “You are a swordsman, a first-mate to your captain. You have worked hard to earn those titles, just like you're working hard now. You can do this.”

Hearing your encouragement, his hands finally find purchase on the walls, anchoring himself against the hole in the surface and beginning his climb up. Just as he finally leans up, the dagger in the wall comes loose, the rope falling limp between his thighs and held up by his body alone.

Your eyes widen, your shock and his igniting desperation in your pulse. He grunted through the adrenaline, groaning as he lifted himself above the hole and braced himself against the walls. The rope began to slip, his hands darting out and grasping it before it fell back down below.

“I-I'm-...” He panted, attempting to catch his breath. Shutting his eyes and furrowing his brows, he inhaled deeply and focussed his breath, “...I'm going to have to pull you up.” His voice quivered, his lips shaking as he was overcome from momentary exhaustion at the swift climb.

“We-...” You began, feeling your shoes begin to dampen with the rise in water lapping at your boot heels, “...We’ll wait until you're ready. Take your time.” Helmeppo looked down, noticing the sea beast had begun to circle around the slowly disappearing island and exhaled a shaky breath.

Before he had joined the marines officially, he would've wanted nothing more than to leave you down there to drown. He would've cowered in his own fear and scampered up the hole without second thought.

But as he stared down at you, looking at the smile you had on your lips as you gazed up at him, the enemy, he was compelled to remember all he learnt from Bogard and Garp. He was a marine, a swordsman, and now the first-mate to his superior and best friend. He was no longer his father's son, a sniveling asshole with no marks on his resume to back up his superiority complex.

He was Helmeppo: first mate to Captain Koby, and a superior sword fighter on a journey to becoming the best.

Anchoring a few coils of rope around his waist, he gestures for you to do the same. You follow his directions, tying your hips together and wedging the strands between your legs as a makeshift harness. He extends his legs, parting his thighs and bending his knees to brace himself within the opening beneath the moonlight. Taking the rope in fistfuls, he begins to slowly draw hand after hand of rope and pool the hefty coils over his palm and elbow.

“K-Keep talking to me,” he uttered, wincing as he felt the overexertion of his muscles burning under the weight. “Keep t-talking. Anchor your weight and tell me about yourself.” His breath hitched, his brows furrowing as he grit his teeth.

You choose not to look down, opting only to grant him your smile as he lifts your body higher above the doom lurking below.

“Before I left my home,” you laughed, bracing your arms against the ropes with your forearms, “I was meant to settle down and have an army of children,” you both chuckled at the notion, his hands crawling along the strands and coiling them up higher.

“That something you want for yourself?” He winced through the strain of the ordeal, looking beneath you and noticing the rocky island was completely engulfed in water. The eyes continued to observe the two of you with interest, the creature lingering beneath the depths smiling its toothy grin.

“Absolutely not,” you confess with a laugh, gripping the ropes further and clambering up alongside his cooking advances, “I only want the open sea, the wind in the sails, and the stars to point me to my next destination.” He snickered down, growling as his limbs began to burn.

“T-Truly?” he responded with a taught snicker, “No desire to settle down and retire one day?” He continued tugging the rope and lifting you through the final threshold of the journey.

“Not in my plan, no,” you retorted, finally lifting yourself between his thighs by grasping his hips and hoisting you with your arms extended. Anchoring your heels at the wall behind you, you had no choice but to fall into his chest upon ascension.

His eyes never left your face, floating over your features and gazing up at you. Falling flat on his chest, you wriggled between his legs and drew yourself up through the partition in his thighs. You furrowed your brows as you found purchase on the wall beyond his shoulders, his eyes darting between yours and his lips parted and panting.

“Sorry,” you muffled your apologies, leaning back and gazing into his eyes. Your breath hitched, looking over his features and finally taking a moment to breathe him in. He was handsome, one of the most handsome men you had seen in some time: almost pretty.

His eyes focussed on your lips, momentarily forgetting the doom lingering below and taking you in for all that you were. You were beautiful, even for a pirate.

“We-...” he began, offering his hand out to you and aiding you between his legs, “...we should begin the climb. Can't-...” his eyes darted down to your lips and lingered there a moment longer, “-We can't leave them waiting, and the water is rising.”

You looked at his face, smiling as you hastily pushed yourself up the walls and looked down at the marine first-mate beneath you.

“Better hurry up then, blondie,” you sneered down at him before scampering throughout the walls and hovering up the small opening. He chuckled, taking a moment to catch his breath before following up the hole after you.

The water rises further below you two, your anxieties both propelling you to use each other as anchor points to propel you further up the hole towards the surface.

“Try to keep up, marine,” you teased him in soft snickers, his own laugh joining yours the longer you teased him.

“Speak for yourself, pirate,” he responded in kind, his eyes staring at your body the further up the chasm you clambered. The water began to swell further beneath you, both of you praying in gratitude that you understood the false entry that drew in the tide.

The starlight welcomed you into the night, you hoisted your torso up through the birthpoint and your eyes both met the cloudless sky above. As you exited the hole, you reached down and offered Helmeppo your arm to grip and raise through the tunnel mouth.

With a soft smirk, he clasped his hand over your forearm and used your arm to draw himself up through the small opening. Before falling onto his back and panting, he assessed the surroundings and noticed there truly was no entry to the cave from below. You were right, and he was ever grateful you noticed the trap lingering below.

Lying flat on your backs either side of the hole and catching your breath, you looked to the constellations and began searching through your mind for any direction towards your crewmates.

While you were distracted by charting the stars, Helmeppo began untying the bonds circling his waist and carefully coiling the ropes for later purpose. He wound the fibers into a neat pile beside him, before crawling on his hands and knees towards you and beginning to draw his fingers against your flesh as you muttered stars to yourself.

“The Marina Comet besides Genfry’s Belt,” you whispered, barely processing the fingers dancing over your skin and loosening the knots surrounding your pelvis. “Which means the anchor point for our vessel should be beside the Sialin Dip and Hogir Spear.” Your whispers earned you a chuckle from your blonde-haired companion as he loosened the knots of rope girdling your waist.

After uttering your final vantage point, you began to giggle. The laughter became almost overbearing as the adrenaline teetered off and lay in wake to the lethargy you were both experiencing.

The physical trial between the two of you amongst sea beasts, bondage, and trickery had each breath you took feeling like a gift to the senses. Upon loosening the final knot, Helmeppo flopped to the position beside you and chuckled into the stars. You joined him, your rambunctious laughter serenading him as you did a few hours prior with your shanties of old.

“Any-... Any thoughts on where our crews are right now?” he offered with teetered laughter. You rolled onto your side and placed your hand on his chest and gave him a soft pat in response.

“We have about a forty minute trek through the jungle before we reach the shore,” you giggled, leaning over him and gazing into his eyes, “And then it’ll be about an hour after that to make it to our ships.” You reached up, brushing his blonde hair from his face and gently caressing his cheek.

His breath hitched as his eyes met with yours, wide and shocked to receive such affection from the enemy. Conflicting emotions swirled in his mind the moment his gray orbs met your half-lidded gaze. Before he could speak, you spoke for him in a soft endearing tone.

“You know, you’re really quite pretty,” you speak as if your words contained a soft secret within. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a dry mouthful of saliva and parted his quivering lips up to you. Giggling at his response, you go to draw yourself away from his embrace, only to have your wrist collected in his hand.

As you knit your brows up in confusion, he immediately sat up and drew your body close to himself. His unoccupied hand cradled the back of your head in a firm grip and drew your lips up to collide with his in a soft kiss. A squeak fled your lips in shock as your eyes remained wide and staring into the furrowed brow of your enemy.

His golden hair stuck to his face in stringy, damp strands from the salty drips from the cavern roof. The stars illuminated his pale skin and allowed you to take a glimpse at the rosy blush rising against his cheeks. You finally hum into his lips, circling his waist with your unclasped wrist, and rising to sit in his lap on the grassy patch beside the hole leading down to your prior prison.

You take his kiss as an expression of relief in reclaiming freedom, his joy at being alive and making it through the trial laid out below. Returning his kiss, you allow yourself to give in to your own relief in making it through the trial and rotate your chin to deepen the oscillation. His heart shot to this throat as he released your wrist to circle his arm around your shoulders and hold you close.

Finally and firmly breaking you away from his lips, he gazed up at you with adoration and an unspoken fondness for you. His lips were bruised by the intensity of your kiss which prompted your hands to raise to his cheeks and run your thumb over his bottom lip. Smiling down at Helmeppo, you softly offer him a small tease in your tone.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you narrow your eyes and scrunch up your nose with your smile, “Let’s go free our crews and get off this forsaken island.” He panted slowly caressing your hair and pressed his forehead against yours briefly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, pirate,” he smiled in his tone, briefly closing his eyes. He broke away contact from your forehead and aided you to your feet. Returning your dagger to you, he hooked the coil of rope over his shoulder and let it lay circling his hip.

“After all we’ve been through? I wouldn’t dream of it,” you smile in response, placing your dagger in your back pocket and readjusting your clothes, “But do try to keep up, lover. You may be strong, but I’m faster.” You began to set an easy and hasty pace trekking through the jungle towards the coastline where your crews were waiting for you.

Aiding each other through the uneven jungle floor, and sneaking in subtle touches and holds to brace each other in support, your affection for the marine swordsman only grew. His eyes only ever left your body and face to briefly glance ahead to brush away a wandering branch from blocking your path. His chivalry was a welcome change to the bruising affection you and your crew displayed to one another.

His thoughts and emotions clouded his judgment, finally giving in to the emotion he was attempting to stifle. He was smitten with the enemy, and he knew you were likely to never see each other again after this adventure. Willing to take any touch you were permitting him to press you with, he committed the feel of your hands on his skin to memory.

He was in love, and you were feeling much the same. You both laughed at the true tragedy of the rising emotions the moment your crews came into view with the local government. Without much thinking, you hastily press a soft kiss to his cheek before sprinting to your captain on the sandy shore without further words.

Eyes shut and hands rose in front of him, he bid you a wordless farewell. Opening his eyes and watching your hair bounce behind you, he felt a piece of his heart leave him and join with your own. Sparing him a look over your shoulder, you shot him a soft wink and giggled in glee at witnessing his eyes still firmly fixed on your retreat.

You were smitten with your marine swordsman, something that the crew would likely tease you about for the whole duration of your journey out to the sea. You looked to the marine ship, your hands splayed on the wooden rail as you met the gaze of Helmeppo aboard his vessel. Gifting him a soft wave and a broad grin, he returned the gesture with a bashful smile and eyes left wanting.

Taking a mental note of the stars, you prayed that one day their soft illuminance would guide you two to meet again.

#one piece #x reader #opla #one piece live action #helmeppo #helmeppo x reader #marine x pirate #ask snail #snail answers #op helmeppo #one piece x reader

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yojeongin · 2 years

Text

happy together | m.l + l.dh [PART 1]

→husband!lee haechan x reader x bff!mark lee

genre: smut, angst, hurt, marriage au, love triangle, forbidden affair, friends to secret lovers, 90s au

synopsis: mark’s life is crumbling all around him too rapidly while the married life isn’t what either you and hyuck expected. taking in your husband’s best friend was meant to bring you good karma but all his presence is doing is stir the pot and worsen the cracks in each relationship.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! toxic marriage, mutual infidelity, morally grey characters, fingering, breast play, unprotected sex, car sex, oral sex (f receiving), spit kink, pet names, public sex, riding, smoking, reckless driving, mention of pet death

wc: 22.9k+ || soundtrack || ao3

finale | epilogue

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

an: look at that, a yojeongin update !! I enjoyed writing this too much so I hope you guys like it. btw if you want to be tagged for part 2 just lmk or fill out the taglist form in my masterlist; btw im sorry its so long 😭 I try to shorten them but they each get increasingly longer; a playlist for this does exist so listen it please <3 spotify in my masterlist

Mark never expected his life to crumble at such an early age. It was all falling out of place so rapidly that he didn’t really know what to do.

One second he was his college prodigy, opening exhibition after exhibition, and next he’s wheeling out suitcase after suitcase from this grimy taxi that he could barely afford last minute. The odor of rotting deli meats suffocating him the longer the car ride became.

Struggling to get them out of the car as the driver refused to even look his way, Mark cursed under his breath at how useless someone could be. But he bit his tongue as the words of his own father calling him such, rang through his ears. Perhaps he was right all along and his words were rather a prophecy than a silly scolding at the time.

The pavement was littered with puddles of rain and the sky threatened to make more droplets fall so once all of his items were out of the car, Mark made his way towards the well kept building, reciprocating the neglect of the driver. As he drove off some puddle water splashed onto his shoes making the young man grunt in frustration.

Life was only getting worse.

The lobby was cold and brightly lit, almost too clean but he only dirtied it with his wet shoes dragging to the elevator. A trail of his mistakes following him around. He was freezing inside but with the note on the elevator doors reading that it was broken, Mark would surely warm up with his walk up all those stairs to the fifth floor carrying all his suitcases.

After some inner complaining and cursing, Mark simply sighed, feeling his brain begin to swirl in frustration as he looked everywhere to find the staircase. The receptionist was of no help, slumped over the desk and intensely staring at the small television perched on the top counter, a drama in a language he couldn’t quite grasp, taking her entire attention.

Tiresomely, Mark finally arrived to the fifth floor, pearls of sweat decorating his pretty face and the sound of labored panting slipping through his parted lips. He could barely open the door to the floor but he managed to do so even with all the luggage handles in one hand, threatening to slip and fall down the staircase. Almost like his life.

Life was only playing joke after joke as the minute he managed to pull off the suitcases in front of him, the elevator dinged. Its doors opened widely, almost as if it was in a rush to kick out the couple that had disturbed its peaceful area.

Their loud bantering could make anyone feel crazy and at this state right now, Mark was the most easily affected.

“So now I’m crazy because I’m telling you that that bitch coworker of yours keeps flirting with you?” Your chuckle was anything but playful and joyous like he’d heard before. Trailing behind you, his best friend had nothing but a tired sunken look along with the anger that was bubbling up because of you alone.

“You’re crazy in general, you don’t have to bring her up for me to know you are.”

Mockery was delivered by the hazel haired boy that pulled at those same strands, feeling like he was pulling patches. His steps became harsher and louder to catch up to you.

Despite his initial personal frustrations, Mark was at least glad you’d two helped to lighten his mood (argument or not).

Just as vile spilled from his friend’s lips, your body swung, turning to your husband and taking his left arm onto one of your hands. Your grip tightening just by recalling his words.

“Don’t fucking call me crazy,” your eyes projected the fiery pits of hell, your burning anger too obvious to try and hide. Boring holes into Haechan’s own eyes and speaking through gritted teeth hoping that he could feel a hot wrath.

Just as he was to speak, continuing his hate filled words, your eyes averted, finally taking in the figure that stared at both of you dumbfoundedly.

“Mark!” That seeping anger from just seconds ago had dissipated into thin air, almost as if it had never been there just from seeing an old friend.

Letting go of your husband, you ran towards his best friend taking him by surprise with the force of your embrace against him. Mark only chuckled as he wrapped his own arms around your waist, pulling you in as tightly as you did him even if he felt gross from his work out up those stairs.

“Stop hogging him.” Hyuck spoke poutingly, pulling at your arm to let go of his friend. Halfway off him, Hyuck took him into his own embrace, slightly uncomfortable as you refused to let go of the older male.

“When did you get here?” Hyuck questions, taking some of the suitcases off of Mark’s hands despite his protesting.

Shaking his head while thanking him, Mark felt your hand slightly squeeze his arm letting him know it was no problem. “Literally just got here actually.” He chuckled not before showing you a tender smile as a thank you.

With the door finally unlocked, you pushed it widely to let him in. Mark was in awe with the way the apartment was decorated. He knew it was all your doing besides the desk in the corner of the living room that was hidden from view with the kitchen wall. That was surely Hyuck’s.

It was cozy and warm, just the way you always said you wanted your place to be and he was glad that you’d still held this up despite how things seemed to be looking. At least from the occasional letters you’d both write to him for updates.

In fact he still noticed that youthful joy and hope when he looked at you as of now. The pep in your step as you giggled towards the fridge and pulled out a beer for all of you.

“To celebrate your new exhibition!” Naive too.

Your smile was so wide and your eyes seemed to show how proud of him you were that he didn’t have in his heart to let you know that his life had gone downhill and his exhibition was a failure.

You had approached him with a freezing cold bottle to the point your fingers felt numb but you graciously opened it with that silly shark bottle opener with googly eyes that bounced every time a bottle was successfully opened.

He had given it to you once the three of you had gone to the local fair. A vendor had lent it to him to open a bottle of coke while the three of you had tacos for dinner,he ended up forgetting to give it back.

Seeing as you had found it adorable on the ride back to his now old apartment, Mark told you to just keep it at that point.

His eyes followed every movement of your hands, how you tried your best to move as quickly as you could when opening your own. How your hands wiped at the skirt of your dress to gain some warmth but you’d only clamp them together in pain trying to relieve some of it.

Once you deemed them to be alright to manage, you rushed back to the kitchen followed by Donghyuck’s whining on to why you hadn’t opened his only to be received with a low and angered: “Open it yourself.” Obviously, you were still very much upset with him.

Mark gave Hyuck a look, jokingly laughing at him for the favoritism displayed. His friend only shoved him playfully before taking the opener into his hands.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to go to the opening. Hyuck worked until late and you know him, I can’t be out late without him. Right, dad?” You teased, turning to glare at your husband as you set down the bowl of seasoned peanuts for Mark to enjoy. Hyuck pretended to mimic you watching as you settled at Mark’s feet right across from him.

Mark continued his silent laughter, taking a chug from his drink while demonstrating the pain the coldness of it was causing in him. “It’s fine, you wouldn’t like it either way. At least others aren’t liking it.”

Huge disappointment was laced with every word. The critics were getting to him and it was so evident in the way he spoke. With his words you looked at Hyuck questioning what was going on but he gave you no response.

“What? Why? Your work is amazing.” You comforted him, giving his knee a slight squeeze that was only received with a smile.

Shifting in his spot making sure to not give you a nudge or kick, he spoke, “It hasn’t really been the best days lately…” his sight shifted from you to his knees. “Some investments went horrible and the exhibition tanked. It’s doing really bad so yeah, everyone has their downfall and I guess this one’s mine.”

Even though he laughed to ease the tension, Mark felt it present in the room. Noting the pout on your face knowing you felt sorry for it, he gave a tight lipped smile.

“Yeah, so– yeah that’s why I’m really thankful you guys are letting me stay a while here, it means a lot.” Though you never minded if he stayed, you were still confused.

Your face a dead giveaway that was making the male panic slightly. “Stay? Hyuck didn’t say any—“

“Oh… oh shit, I can leave of course,” He rubbed a hand over his face, guilt and embarrassment embroidered in his words. “My bad I didn’t mean to just barge in.”

He chuckled nervously, shifting in a way to stand without disrupting you, yet you rushed to sit besides him, taking his arm into a tight hug while telling him not to.

“No! Oh my God. No!” Desperately you’d plead, Hyuck standing up himself to sit Mark back down, his words drowning in the ocean of your apologies.

“Nah nah, it’s fine, dude.” He was obviously tired, his eyes trying their best to not shut while trying to calm down his friend. Though drowsy, neither you or Mark missed the harsh glare he threw your way. Almost trying his best to not scold you through gritted teeth.

“I'm sorry, Mark. Hyuck just didn't tell me at all. I would've had the guest room clear for you by now, it’s full of stuff even the bed is gross—“ You stopped to catch your breath, a sigh releasing instead whilst looking at him with pleading apologetic eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mark. I’ll bring you some covers.” All you mustered was a nervous smile as you scurried off to the guest room for his sheets, leaving the two men alone.

Haechan leaned back on the molding couch, his legs spread enough for a person to sit between, and the perspiration of the bottle seeping through his slacks. The man was gone and tired but even then he tried his best to comfort his best friend. “I’m sorry about her—“ Mark tried cutting him off to no avail.

“It is my fault I forgot to tell her, I mean you saw how we came home— It’s been rocky so having a normal conversation is so foreign to us now.” Neither expected him to just minimally vent about the marriage but he needed it out. Mark only nodded, uncomfortable and with no advice at hand.

“But yeah, man— you know y/n loves you, she doesn’t mind you staying at all.” He finally cracked a smile or a laugh during this entire awkward conversation. Mark smiled in return, warm to how much love the two of you had for him.

“Thanks… It’ll be just for a bit, I promise.”

Hyuck shook his head, eyes fluttering from exhaustion. “Don’t worry about it, It’d actually be best if you just stay forever .”

Mark’s laugh was louder and genuine this time, shaking his head in denial. As of that moment, you had emerged from the guest room.

Your presence alone was draining Hyuck. His laugh faltered and so did his smile, glowering as he sipped on his drink.

But to Mark it only increased his giddiness, standing up to help you with his blankets and laughing even more when you pulled on your husband’s arm to get him off the larger couch and start arranging the sheets.

He didn’t wait until you finished, Donghyuck just sighed and looked at his surroundings before blurting out that he was heading to bed already in the process of pulling Mark in an embrace again.

You didn’t spare him a glance, smoothing up the cool fabric under your palm. The sound of it louder than the tapping of Haechan’s dress shoes on the cold tile.

Being left with you never felt like a drag, Mark always enjoyed his time with you so this didn’t feel much different when you began to speak. “I imagine you’re drained, huh?” You threw him a glance over your shoulder, shooing his hands away every time he tried to help you.

Mark just nodded, nervously smiling as he pulled his hands back, rubbing it the few times you swatted it. “I-I like the way you decorated the place by the way! Really screams ‘y/n’— it’s nice.” He stuttered, his nose scrunching in embarrassment.

“Thanks…” Your body faced him, words refusing to continue cascading whilst your eyes danced across his features. “It’s really the only thing I got going for myself as of now.”

He felt his heart shatter the moment your eyes dropped, avoiding his gaze. Mark always knew you to be outspoken and firm on your desires. Before you married his best friend you were an art consultant. Hired by his company to find anything to decorate the dull walls of their building, there Donghyuck found himself drawn to you.

Every Friday he awaited impatiently, his knee bouncing just to see your beautiful smile cross the threshold of the company doors with paintings upon painting you had traveled countries to get just for his boss.

Hyuck always used the excuse that there were too many for you to have multiple trips up and down the elevator so he’d offer to help you carry them to his boss’ office.

You also looked forward to those Fridays. Back then Hyuck was loving and patient, he was playful and did anything to make you smile. Even the first times you rejected his proposals he’d come back with more potential that you ended up becoming his wife.

It’s not that you didn’t want to be with him but because of your job. You spent weeks or even months in different areas of the country or abroad so knowing this relationship would be long distance didn’t help.

By the time you had agreed, the company had terminated their business with you and you had gotten a job in the city to relax from the chaos traveling constantly would bring.

In Mark’s eyes you were always strong willed. When Haechan finally introduced you during one of Mark’s exhibitions, the older male was in awe to know Hyuck had found someone so perfect.

At the time you matched his energy very well. The both of you were outgoing yet always stood your ground. If anyone, especially your now husband did anything you didn’t like— you’d call him out on it.

Hence Mark always felt like he was walking on eggshells until he learnt that he could do no wrong in your eyes because you saw yourself in him.

The both of you had the fine arts to bond about, he was easy to talk to, and he was always supportive of your hobbies as you were of his. Hell— you even invested in some of his pieces to show you’d be there for him.

Many would side eye the relationship you had with Mark but Hyuck understood how perfect the three of you were and if his best friend would do anything for his girl, then she was the one.

Mark didn’t know how or when it happened but all he knew as of now was that Haechan managed to make you docile in a way. But he also knew he did something to piss you immensely.

Your coworkers, before he made you quit were lovely but he was convinced many of the men there had other plans for you despite many being in relationships or just nice people.

It didn’t help that his own coworkers were all venomous and envious snakes that fed him ideas. It was quite sad actually, how the people that saw that relationship bloom were the same ones trying to tear it down so here the both of you were, always seconds away from yanking at each other’s hair and clawing at their face.

It was disheartening to say the least. Everything was changing for the worse.

“Have a good night, Mark.”

Cutting his thoughts off, you squeezed his shoulder, leaving him in the dim lighting of the lamp beside him.

Not giving him the chance to reply, Mark nodded to himself with a tight lipped smile as he turned the lamp off.

Loneliness swallowed him again, his eyes adjusting to the darkness but the city lights worked as a nightlight regardless. He wouldn’t admit it but he really needed both you and Hyuck with him in that instant.

His head hit the pillow, eyelids felt heavy, allowing him to drift off to a deep yet short slumber. Mark was tired, yes, but his mind, though in pain, still ran his thoughts through. Destroying any chances of rest. His slumber lasted merely half an hour until the bright fluorescent lights and honking of the city awoke him.

In addition the whispers emitting from the main room gripped his hearing forcefully, not letting him go until he heard every vile thing you and Hyuck told each other.

“I didn’t mean to sound rude—“

“Yeah, well you could’ve tried to sound better.”

He heard the shuffling of bed sheets.

“You never told me he was staying, I could’ve cleared out the other room. Poor guy has to sleep on the stiff couch. I mean why the fuck do you need an extra room for? Your desk is in the living room and you don’t even use it.”

Exasperation was laced in your voice, he didn’t know how to entirely feel but that guilt of intruding your livelihood was horrible.

“Those postcards are collectibles, y/n. For all you know they could be worth more than this apartment in the future.”

Mark imagined you rolled your eyes before speaking. “They’re worth ten cents right now, how could they possibly be worth anything any time soon?”

A pout emerged on his lips. He wondered if that’s what people thought about his work right now but you were once the art consultant so who else is better to know the worth of something?

“Fuck, fine! Clean out the room but throw away some of your stuff you don’t need too.”

“Like what?��

He heard defiance.

“I don’t know, why don’t you start with all the paint you have? You don’t ever work on anything anymore, all you did was waste money on that stuff.”

Hyuck shifted in his spot, turning to your body now. “You haven’t finished that little ug— little painting you were working on.” He swallowed his remaining words.

You simply scoffed and shook your head in disbelief. “That little ugly painting you were gonna say?”

“No.” He answered untruthfully.

“Right— I’m just going to go clean the room now.”

You tried getting off the bed before feeling his grasp on your wrist, almost begging you for forgiveness but also with the grip of an angry possessive man.

“You’re going to wake him up.” He didn’t apologize, that only cemented your determination even more.

Yanking your wrist from his grasp without first feeling that burn, you scooted towards the edge putting your slippers on before walking towards the entrance, Donghyuck watching your every move.

Managing to open the door as quietly as you could, with a leg out already, you turned to your lover. “It’s a realistic portrait of you, just so you know.” He ignores your words but you can still notice his distaste in the way his eyes gloss over. That was enough of a reaction for you.

Finally shutting the door behind you, you lower your head slightly, tired of this constant cycle. You would’ve walked towards the spare room but in the instant you lifted your head you noticed the subtle rustling of Mark’s spiked hair scurrying to hide from your sight.

Tip-toeing towards the back of the couch, you lean over seeing his back turned to the cushions. Smiling to yourself as his lids twitched showing how bad of a liar he was; you giggled softly.

“I know you’re not asleep, nosey.” Your hand reached for his cheek, squeezing it softly. Mark couldn’t contain it anymore, he just smiled as his eyes fluttered open while apologizing.

“It’s cool, nothin’ new.” Climbing over the back of the couch, Mark made space for you to lay beside. “Did you, uh… Did you hear anything?”

Settled by the edge of the couch, Mark wraps one of his arms around your shoulders hoping that’s enough to not make you fall.

“Not really.” His smile didn’t falter, not even when you gave him a stoic nod knowing he’s lying.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Lights are too bright.”

They were hitting your face as you laid beside him. Silence settled between the both of you until you got closer to him. Laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his torso.

You didn’t really give him time to process what had gone on since you began talking, only giving him the option of holding you as well. “You know I don’t mind that you’ll stay here, right? I love it when you come around.”

“I hope so.” He replied

You granted him laughter, “Stop, you know I do! You’ve always been so fun, Mark. Are you going to give me company these days?”

‘You’re so fun, Mark.’ The words echoed in his mind as he tried to process what to say.

“Of course. While I look for a place and an actual job as my father would say.” Though Mark tried to play it off, it was obvious he was insanely hurt.

“Do you still paint?” You deflected, he nods and asks: “Do you?” You respond with a shake of your head and a tender smile.

“We should do something tomorrow then. Rest for tonight, alright?” He nods letting you know you should too, shifting in hopes to find an angle the city lights wouldn’t bother him.

All you managed to do was close the blinds and curtains once you stood, hoping that was enough for now. For now it seemed like it was, smiling as you walked over to him one last time. Crouching down to his level, Mark smiled seeing your face one last time tonight.

Before he could scold you to get some rest, he felt your lips on his cheek whispering a sweet ‘goodnight’ once again.

Mark couldn’t form any words, he was utterly shocked and slightly confused but it was also past 2AM and you were probably just tired and slightly tipsy so he tried to ignore it— it was an innocent remark, just that…

As the weeks progressed it seemed Mark could slightly see why you had kissed him goodnight that first day.

The longer he stayed with you and Donghyuck he noticed how lonely you were. Hyuck spent most of his days in the office and when he arrived home it was already late so all he could do was shower and head straight to bed.

He’d greet Mark normally but when it came to you he could barely even look your way. If he came back tipsy after a meeting then he would kiss you as a greeting but other than that it was as if a corpse was walking amongst you.

On his days off, Hyuck would lounge on the couch while watching TV expecting you to cater to him but when it was obvious you’d continue to ignore his existence, he’d dress up and head back to the office.

Mark hated to admit it but he preferred when Haechan wasn’t home. It was a living hell when he was. You were always so lively when it was just you and him. If Hyuck came around your entire mood faltered and it was a struggle to bring it back.

He was glad that he had managed to get you to paint again. In this time together, Mark had helped you with detailing and different techniques. You had also found that oil pastel was a new medium you preferred.

Mark could now see why having a roommate or a lover was sought out so much. You and him would spend your days at the downtown markets fishing for fresh produce for home made meals you two would plan or just simply finding an excuse to escape the confinement that apartment was for you.

Mark had also learnt how to better his cooking from you and how to properly take care of plants. That is because the both of you decided to buy one and help it grow— together . To be quite honest you always thought of plants as such a huge responsibility, you simply didn’t want to do it alone.

It was going great, at least for you two. The more time he spent there the less you cared about what Hyuck was doing without you. The less you cared about Donghyuck.

But for now, those thoughts needed to disappear and you two had to think about him regardless.

Despite the horrid summer heat in September, Mark put himself in the kitchen monitoring the stew as you got dressed up for tonight's event. Whining to himself about how hot it was getting in the kitchen. But this was you– and his best friend of course– so he didn’t want to complain.

“Do you want me to turn off the stove? I think it’s starting to dry up.” Mark called out, watching the red bubbles flow from one side to another, avoiding the pieces of pork and vegetables before they’d burst.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, hey— how does it look?” Mark turned with the sound of your voice, his eyes taking a while to process how beautiful you looked before him. To say he was speechless was an understatement. It felt as if the air in his entire body had been knocked out and his voice was robbed.

“Is it too much?” You asked nervously at his silence. Trying to aid that, he shook his head with a smile on his face, taking one of your hands into his to twirl you around. Though as innocent as it was, Mark couldn’t help his wandering eyes, admiring the beauty you always have been.

He loved how the purple dress hugged your body and he loved how the lacing of your heels wrapped around your smoothen calves. They matched the nylor top coat of the dress, beaded flowers on both items.

He loved how your collarbones looked, shimmers from glittered lotion helping them. The straps tied around your neck making it a halter dress, and he loved how happy you looked.

Mark wasn’t fully sure what this brewing feeling was but he knew it wasn’t good.

Hyuck wasn’t someone Mark ever found himself being jealous of, he was his best friend after all. Mark had only loved and supported his best friend but right now it was killing him. The feeling wasn’t strong enough but he knew it could grow quickly.

It was killing him to realize he and you have spent all day preparing for tonight. Cooking Hyuck’s favorite meal and dessert, cleaning every nook and cranny of the apartment, and even buying postcards for his collection despite how you felt about it.

Even when Donghyuck has been nothing but a dipshit to you this entire time Mark’s stayed with you two; you went out of your way to make this anniversary a good one.

To be exact, Mark was jealous of Hyuck for having someone who loved him despite all he’s put you through.

“You look ravishing.” Mark let out in a breath, your concern turning into a grand smile and thanking him with a hug.

Turing to grab the pot of stew, Mark placed it on the decorated dinner table as you followed with glasses and wine.

“Okay, got everything?” He questioned one last time after wiping his hands on his jeans, making his way to the entrance door.

Looking around, you nodded as a response. Turning to the clock on the microwave, Mark grabbed his jacket, getting the clue. “Alright then, he should be here soon so just page me whenever it’s fine to come back.”

Mark smiled your way, almost as if he was excited for you when he knew he wasn’t.

Just as he was to turn and leave, a thought crossed his mind. “By the way— has he said anything?” His eyebrows furrowed and some doubt was visible but you just shrugged with an awkward smile.

“No… but he always acts like he forgets when we have anything big coming up.” You laugh to ease those nerves he’s created.

“Plus, I saw a box a while ago in one of his desk drawers and I think it’s a bracelet.” You tried to defend Hyuck, even when you nervously played with the flowers on the table. Even though you were trying to act giddy, Mark couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for these feelings he’s created.

“Alright… have fun then!” Mark walked to you quickly, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek that you received with a smile before returning it. You felt your arms tingle with the warmth of his skin, lightheaded when he removed himself from you.

The second Mark closed the door behind him, you sat with that anxious pit in your stomach waiting for your husband to arrive. You didn’t know if it was for what he had created when it came to Hyuck or for his touch– nevertheless it’s September 7th: Your anniversary. That’s all that should matter now.

You knew Hyuck arrived home late so you didn’t put it past him to do so on your wedding anniversary but the more the clock ticked and the needles cycled around with no sign of him, you felt vile begin to form in your throat.

It was coming around to be 10pm, then 11pm, and before you knew it 2am had rolled around and all that was left was the uncovered pot of stew covered by a layer of grease, wilted flowers crumbling down, and napkins full of smeared makeup and snot.

You were trying your best to not think about it much. You didn’t want to think about how foolish you were to think that despite how much you and Hyuck weren’t on the best terms as of the past months, that that love you once shared would triumph at least on your anniversary.

It was clear enough to you that he didn’t care anymore. So picking up yourself and your pride you made your way towards the restroom, wiping away the remains of your makeup and preparing for bed before paging Mark to come home.

He didn’t think twice about it when he felt the vibration against his hip, it was until he saw you sadly pour the stew into containers that he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

There was no sign of Donghyuck anywhere in the apartment and it made his blood boil. All he could do was walk your way, taking the pot and washing it while you put the container away in the fridge.

“So… wanna go on a bike ride tomorrow? We can get lunch, and then we can head to a music shop. I know you’ve been meaning to buy a CD player. Oh a picnic sounds perfect.” He knew it would do no good talking about his best friend and it was just best to ignore the subject.

You had been trying so hard to not cry this entire time that Mark offered to spend time with you but it made that barrier break and the waterworks to cascade. Mark felt guilty, as if he had said something wrong and he didn’t know what to do besides take you into and embrace and whisper apologies against your hair that he caressed as your back.

“Y/n, please. I’m so sorry if I sa—“

“No, it’s not— just— why can’t he be like you?”

Mark felt his heart ache and it got worse the more you cried against his chest, your arms tightening around his waist. He could smell the sweet scent of wine mixed into the one of your minty toothpaste. He could only assume that you had gotten drunk from despair.

“It’s okay… why don’t you go to sleep? We have a big day tomorrow, I'll finish cleaning up.” You didn’t have it in you to deny him, you were too tired and distraught from this little stunt Haechan pulled on you that you just wanted to lay down at least.

Simply nodding, you gave him a last tight squeeze before letting him go, looking up at him with a thankful smile. Perhaps it was the alcohol but the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed how much more you adored Mark. That same tingle he created earlier was presenting itself in an excruciating way.

He was the sweetest boy you’ve known, he treats you so well and expects nothing in return, and he’s always been supportive of you.

Temptation was always lurking and his rosey lips looked enticing more and more but it seems he caught onto your thoughts that he swallowed the lump in his throat. Clearing his throat, Mark smiles at you whispering a tender ‘goodnight’ that you repeated kissing his forehead before walking straight to the bedroom.

Mark felt frightened while you stared at him. Truth be told if you had kissed him, he would’ve let you and even kissed you back but right now he couldn’t. At least not when you’re so vulnerable, tipsy, and also his best friend’s wife.

Fuck… his best friend’s wife.

The second that door closed behind you, Mark let out a hampered breath, scolding himself for ever thinking about you in that aspect. They were only worsening as the days passed by.

Running his hand over his face and throwing his head back, Mark headed back to the kitchen. Though temporarily, washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen had aided him in forgetting those rising feelings. But like always they’d creep up once he was able to think freely again.

He tried to sleep that guilt away, tossing and turning hoping with every move it would shake out of his bones and leave through the open window but nothing worked. Frustrated with how easily the idea of kissing you had disturbed him, Mark grunted on his way up to the window. Taking a hold of his cigarette box that laid on the kitchen counter.

It was already 4am nearing five when he had finished cleaning for you but even so Hyuck hadn’t arrived until now when Mark leaned against the windowsill with the stick between his lips.

Lighting it, he shakes his head with a breathy laugh that makes smoke blow out of his lips. “Unbelievable.” He tells himself, eyes following the drunken moves of his friend and laughter from the men inside the car.

He counted the minutes and seconds until Donghyuck was to arrive at the apartment, his loud steps not missed.

“55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60… 1, 2—‘

The glowing red within the cigarette consuming more and more of the paper and herb, warming up where he held it, a clear sign that he should get a new one. Exactly when the warmth of the butt was becoming unbearable, Mark threw it out to the street hearing the doorknob rattle upon Haechan opening the door.

In his giddy drunken state, the young man smiled seeing his best friend, rushing to him to embrace him as he loudly greeted him.

“What are you still doing awake? Wanna have a drink?” He asks in between laughs, rushing to the fridge and grabbing two bottles, easily opening them with just the back of a knife. Mark took it without a thank you, lighting up another cigarette with so much disgust in his face the longer he looked at the state of his best friend.

Lips swollen and red, glitter littered all over his body and sticking to the sweat of his neck that was stained with rouge and purple kisses. He reeked of expensive cigarettes and alcohol and his slacks had stains that could only make him gag from just imagining.

Mark simply shook his head, scoffing at the antics of his friend. His guilt was gone seeing how much worse Hyuck could be than him. Taking a swig of the beer, Mark glared at his friend. “What is wrong with you? It’s so fucking late.” He viciously asked, inhaling smoke from his new cigarette.

Hyuck laughed, taking one from Mark’s box and lighting it to join his friend. “Okay, mom.” He replied, feeling as if he was just jesting but when Mark’s expression didn’t change he was becoming visibly frustrated. After all, what did Mark care about? He was just staying with them.

“Not for me but for y/n. She’s been waiting all day for you. You’ve really fucked her over, Donghyuck.”

Mark doesn't call him Donghyuck— ever. Only times he’s done so is when he’s angered him badly and right now he couldn’t understand why he cared so much about you and him. Putting down his bottle and turning to his friend, Hyuck’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth felt slightly agape. “What does it matter to you? It’s just another day.” His voice, gruff and deep now.

The smoke Haechan blew out made its way to Mark’s face, creating a more hostile night for the two. He wasn’t going to back down. In all his years he’s never seen you cry and he wasn’t going to let that slide.

Mark mirrored Hyuck’s dissatisfied expression, coming closer to his friend in defiance. “You smell like shit with signs of another bitch all over you on your anniversary, dipshit. Is it still just another day?”

And it crashed down upon him when Mark’s finger crushed itself against his chest, poking him as a wakeup call from the drunken daze he was in. Feeling as if a bucket of water had been dropped on him, Hyuck’s eyes widened in horror, fingers threading with his hair and yanking at it with anger like the day Mark had arrived.

“Fuck—“ He took a seat, putting off his cigarette on the ashtray. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t have a present either, what the fuck am I gonna do?”

Fear was all over his face, his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep, rocky night, and the frustration from how you’d treat him for the following weeks or even months until you forgot it.

Mark didn’t care, he only focused on his statement about the gift. Angered, he finished off the second cigarette before glaring at his friend more. “She found a bracelet in your drawers, what do you mean you don’t have a gift?”

Hyuck had never seen Mark this angry before but for now he would focus on his own problems. “Who is it for? Are you fucking with me? Are you cheating on her? I love you, you're a brother to me but I will beat your ass if you fuck her over, Hyuck— promise to God I will.”

It was an eratic moment to spew such words that Hyuck’s expressions smoothened and his fright dissipated. All that was left was a twinge of curiosity the more his eyes squinted.

‘Interesting.’ He thought, the gears in his brain hating this new feeling just as Mark was hating his own new feelings as well.

“It’s for my mother’s birthday… but I guess I’ll give it to her now.” He collectively spoke, his words coming out slowly still processing Mark’s attitude. Mark didn’t seem to pick up on Hyuck’s peaking interest, shaking his head with obvious discontent.

“No, you have to get something meaningful. Something special, I mean she got you something you wanted, she spent all day preparing for you. You can’t just do something like that, Hyuck.”

“Fine, I’ll take her out to dinner tomorrow and how about you get the present?” He hoped that was good enough to get Mark off his back or at least to get his help. After all, he is his best friend.

Mark sat in complete disgust and anger. “You didn’t hear shit I just said, did you?” An angered smirk as he scoffed before finishing his beer. Hyuck grunted in frustration, his eyes screaming: ‘What more do you want from me?’ The wider they got. “Dude, I don’t have time, you know this.”

But it was useless, Mark just glared at him one last time before nodding. “Fine.” He grumbled in disapproval. “Alright, thank you.” Hyuck added with his own annoyance laced into it. Fishing for his wallet, he handed Mark one of his credit cards before silently walking to the room ending the night for both of them.

Lonely and angry.

Thankfully enough when waking, you were the ray of sunshine that made his day better. Driving almost an hour to the countryside, Mark and you spent it entirely on rented bikes.

Going to the nearest park the two of you had a picnic at, mainly focusing on how to sweeten each other’s mood and avoid thinking about last night. Though Mark drowned out the fears he had just last night, you felt them flourishing within you.

You liked that he was gentle with you and treated you nicely. If you ever argued with Mark it was over the taste of something and not about how useless he thought your likings were.

He cooked and cleaned if you weren’t in the mood. If you were he’d help, he just made sure to not let all the burden fall on you.

You liked Mark. You always had but right now the lines between platonic and loneliness were blurring. Enough that this day felt like a date and not just friends hanging out.

It didn’t matter though, at least you were glad there was someone out there to listen to you. Just as he did now the longer you talked while walking inside a small shop of antiques.

Finishing the drink you held in your hand, Mark held the door open for you. Words cascading from your lips as he admired every single one of them. Even when he took your cup to throw away before roaming around, his eyes didn’t leave your face.

The only time he was able to remove his gaze from you was the moment he heard your excited squeal while rushing towards the jewelry section and gawking at a seemingly golden locket.

The smooth metal etched with intricate vines filled with flowers, glimmering in the sunlight that shot through the vast windows behind the counter. Mark admired the shine in your eyes. How they glossed over and sparkled in adoration, almost as if this was the last thing you’d want before you died.

He supposed you could feel his intense staring that you turned to smile at him before clutching his arm, feeling you shake a bit. “It seems silly but my mom gave me one exactly like this one when I was a little kid and I always wore it,”

You shifted your leg. “But when I moved in with Hyuck it went missing. I guess you could’ve called it a warning.” You laughed trying to ease the underlying message as you continued. “Ever since I lost it things haven’t gone well, perhaps it was my lucky charm; and it’s been so difficult finding a new one that makes me feel the same as the one she gave me but it hasn’t worked out.”

Feeling your head lay on his shoulder as you stared at the piece without touching it, Mark looked down upon you. That odd feeling manifesting itself once again and tearing at his intestines.

“How much is it?” He questioned, feeling you shake a bit more. “Uh—“ You separate yourself from him, the trembling from your legs increasing and your breathing hitching in the back of your throat.

Whether it was because you had to go to the restroom or solely for the price alone. “Damn… Hyuck would kill me if I spent that much on a simple necklace.” You stated, before fully separating yourself from him and whining that you had to go to the restroom before he tried to oppose his friend’s view on spending.

Hyuck couldn’t be this frivolous, right? Well, Mark couldn’t really judge how other people spent their money, after all his reckless way of living is what has him crashing at his best friend’s place.

But this is you and Donghyuck he was talking about. Sure he wouldn’t care that his wife spent money on something so meaningful and after his arrival last night it was evident he spent his own money grossly.

Nevertheless Haechan told him to buy you a gift you’d appreciate and this was the perfect one. Whether it was too much or not, he was never given a budget and Hyuck would have to deal with it on his own.

So while you remained in the restroom, Mark rushed to the register, pleading with the cashier to quickly wrap it for a gift. While she tried her best to make it look presentable, his desperate staring was making her nervous to where she fumbled with the chain and the box.

If it wasn’t because there was a timer on how quickly you’d come out he would’ve been slightly upset at how messy it was but now that he could hear the creaking of the door far in the back inside this silent shop, he couldn’t care less how badly the presentation was. After all, he'll fix it while you get ready for tonight’s date with your husband .

The closer the tapping of your shoes got, the bigger the rush he gained while swiping the card and signing the receipts, hoping the cashier would hurry up on her end as well. Poor girl.

And when he could see your silhouette from his peripheral view whilst you looked around the rest of the knick-knacks, he shoved the box and receipt into the inner pocket of his jacket, unintentionally glaring at the girl despite thinking his gaze was apologetic.

“Ready to go?” He questioned, patting his chest hoping the imprint wasn’t visible. “Yeah…” You dragged out, a pout on your lips as your gaze turned to the display the necklace was on. At its disappearance, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout deepened.

“What?” He questioned, holding out his arm for you to grab again. “And the locket?” You ask, he was about to answer when the cashier interrupted the both of you.

“Someone had bought it before you came, they’ll be here shortly to pick it up so I just packed it. I’m so sorry if you were interested in it.” Her tender smile made your pout soften, telling her it was fine as you dragged Mark out dejectedly.

Despite knowing he had gotten it for you, Mark couldn’t let that disappointment you held go. Hopefully as of now when Hyuck was to give you the locket, that you’d feel better and forgive your husband even when he most likely didn’t deserve it.

When Hyuck had arrived and told you about his plans, it didn’t change the tense ambient that had been created upon his arrival. Though you reluctantly got ready while Hyuck moped about your mood, he was praying to all entities that you’d both let it go once the date was over. Even if deeply and unconsciously he felt put off by the both of you together— a twinge of jealousy.

The restaurant was cold and dim, dull. Though he tried making conversation and you tried to answer, that deep built up of anger was clogging your throat, choking you with its fiery vexation.

Hyuck was beginning to feel his own frustrations bubbling up the colder you became towards him. He was trying his best to make this an enjoyable night but when you’ve spent your entire days fighting— things like these become a heavy task.

When nothing else worked, Hyuck reached for the inside of his suit jacket, pulling the box Mark had handed him rushedly whilst he pushed the both of you out of the apartment in hopes the air would finally clear.

“Y/n.” He called out for you, your fork resting on the plate as you averted your gaze towards him, humming in response. His free hand reached for yours, clutching it tightly as a plea to please forgive him for all his wrong doings (As if a measly dinner could fix all his invective words).

“I know I fucked up royally last night,” Your eyebrow quirked in sarcasm. “But I’m truly sorry for ruining our day for work. I’m sorry I prioritized it over our marriage and perhaps it’s the reason we haven’t been doing so well these past couple of months along with other reasons…”

He sighed, his fingers intertwining with yours as his glossy eyes trembled trying to look into your cold muted ones. “And I know this dinner doesn’t amount to anything you deserve, so at least take this…” His hand left yours, that coldness from before remaining.

“To show I love you so much more than I can love anyone or anything.” Upon opening the box, your face lit up and you sat up straight. Your eyes are no longer cold, instead they are excited and warm.

You felt the need to cry, to weep and forgive him as it seemed he did know all along about your locket. That is until you opened your mouth. “So it was you?! You bought it from that shop?” You excitedly questioned as he stood to put it on you.

Kissing your cheek, glad you finally caved in. Standing behind you to put it on not caring if people were to see, his cold fingers graced your equally cold skin, making him slightly shiver.

“Uh, yeah. It’s really simple, nothing too special. Would’ve gotten you something prettier but I know you like things like this, found it down the street from the apartment but I thought it’d look beautiful on you.” He cleared his voice before allowing his lips to fall upon yours.

Perhaps this kiss would have meant more to you but hearing him lie about where ‘he’ had bought it was making your guts churn in pain. He truly will never stop lying to you, huh?

In the matter of seconds as he sat down and looked back at you, Hyuck couldn’t help but notice your eyes dimming again. “I see.” You’d mildly continued, giving him a small smile and dropping it.

Easy as that, a smile was enough for him to feel like he had gotten you back. Taking your hand into another grasp as he chose a dessert for you both; your returning scowl went unnoticed.

You loved Hyuck. You think you do, he is the man you married but why does he continue disappointing you so much? At what point in a relationship do the things the other person does become insufferable?

At what point do you look forward to not spending time with them and instead find comfort in someone else? It seems that you have reached this point.

Morally, it was consuming you. You were supposed to be the perfect housewife that keeps the home clean and given him a child by this point but all you were was a wreck longing for her old independent life while thinking about spending time with her husband’s best friend.

What he did to lead to what you two were now was not helping this case anymore.

After Hyuck had given himself away that he hadn’t bought the locket for you, the only person you could think about was Mark. There’s no way someone else could’ve bought it before you two just for it to end in your hands.

The inscriptive inside of the box with the shop logo was also a dead giveaway of where it was bought, something Hyuck should’ve looked at if he had fabricated his lie well. Or perhaps Mark had set him up for failure and just told him to give it to you.

A part of you wants that latter to be true, for Mark to wedge himself into the relationship to create some excitement but you knew it wouldn’t happen. Not only because he was Donghyuck’s best friend, your own close friend, and because he just isn’t that type of person .

In conclusion Mark was the only one who could’ve obtained it for you and had managed to get the cashier to lie for him. Mark is the only one who knows the meaning of your fixation on that locket. Only he would buy something that has a meaning for you to obtain.

All you were worried about was how he paid for it when he was in a crisis as of now and hoped Hyuck had paid him back as he was the one to give it to you after all.

And as the quiet car ride back to the apartment fell silent besides the hushed radio playing in the background, Hyuck walked in celebrating as if anything had truly changed.

“Wine or beer, baby?” He questioned, his hand on the fridge handle looking at the inventory. Your mind elsewhere, eyes wandering and looking for signs of Mark.

To no avail, you turned to your husband, grabbing the bottle of beer in his hand. Hyuck kissed your cheek for the second time this night, following it with a peck to your lips as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Is he here?” He questioned, reading your mind. You only shook your head, looking into his eyes wondering if his question was out of realizing your reasons or for his own. With your response, he smirked, his face moving closer to you. His pillowy lips found yours, taking them into a kiss full of yearning.

His hand creeped across your torso, dangerously inching up to your breast, feeling him squeeze through the fabric of your dress. It’s been a while since he’s touched you, mainly due to how often you’d both go to sleep angry at each other but right now was the chance.

Even if you were tired of his ways, you’d still let him. The feeling of lust taking over you but slowly the thought of Mark tried pushing through your brain.

Hyuck’s cold fingers found themselves under the fabric, grasping the mound and giving it a slight squeeze. Your lips continued enveloping against each other, him smirking when your breathy moan spilled against his.

He chuckled looking at your state, flushed at the steaminess of the situation, his other hand bunching up your dress enough to where he could slip his hand in between your legs easily.

“Hyuck…” you moaned, resting your forehead on his chest, the grumble from his extended chuckle making you shake. “Yeah?” He asks, his delicate fingers gracing over the warm fabric of your panties that slowly moistened the more he touched you.

You tried talking but felt your voice tremble with every syllable, barely pushing out the name that’s been manifesting itself all this time. “M-Mark—“

The moment his friend’s name came out as a moan to his ears, Hyuck stopped his assault, standing up frustratedly. “What did you say?” He questioned with darkened eyes, scared and angry that you could possibly do that to him (despite what he’s done to you.)

Despite how much you both fight each other, you both were good at reading each other’s body languages. His hostile figure made you act fast and pushed his hand back in between your legs as he reluctantly began to touch you just out of suspicion.

“I just meant that he might not be far…” you gasp, leaning closer to kiss him softly compared to the teasing, teeth-clashing ones from earlier. “So maybe, fuck—“ the pressure on your clit increasing, softly circling it.

“Maybe— hurry.” You bit your lip, his anger dissipating and that shit eating grin returning the second he opted to slip his hand inside the purple fabric of your panties, the wetness making it stick to the upside of his hand.

Hyuck chuckled at the scene before him, it had been so long since you two had been intimate and seeing how you melted onto his touch was doing things to him. Your whimpers and moans fueling his hurt ego and the further his fingers teased your entrance, thumb rubbing at your clit— it grew more and more.

“Oh? Have you been holding it the entire night? I can feel it sliding down my hand. Maybe I should get a taste?” He teased, his fingers threatening to leave your slickness and reach his lips when your speedy hands prevented any movement that wasn’t caresses to your needy cunt.

He chuckled loudly, leaning down to bite your swollen lower lip before kissing you softly. “Hyuckie, stop being such a tease!” You dragged out, becoming more forceful with the kiss. His tongue swiped against yours, the warm satin feel mirroring the wetness between your legs onto his digits.

“You haven’t called me that in a while… Ah my princess does need me!” Ecstatically his word embedded into your lips, rewarding you with a second finger that at most was just as cruelly teasing as the one before.

You whined even more hoping he’d find it in his heart to plunge his fingers deep into your crevice but knowing him and how insanely cruel he can be, the hope dwindled the more he teased your entrance with just the tips and pulling them back out to hear your glorious cries. He wanted to cave into you. He wanted to please you as he had in the past but this seemed to be the only efficient way he could actually make you pay for the way you’ve treated him for these past months.

Yet despite his vexatious actions to further embitter you and start his own sort of revenge, he couldn’t do it. Deep in his heart he knew he still loved you like he used to. He simply had to give in to you, as much as it pained him how easily he submits to you.

Determined enough with the melting of his hateful heart, Hyuck leaned in to kiss you and ease that pent up frustration. “I love you so much, y/n.” He whispered against them, your whimpers swallowing the words you couldn’t process or at least refused to believe were true.

But glory blessed you as his fingers began to prod at your labia and soon found your opening. Your moans were too loud, those demonstrating how long he’s left you to fend on your own that the simplest of touch could lead you to where you’re at.

He shushed you calmly, smiling against your mouth while you gnawed on his lips, your hands reaching for his aching erection. With the swift touch of your delicate fingers over the textile, Haechan whined, his fingers prodding deeper into your cavern. He didn’t move them yet, a third finger taunting you as you rushed to unbuckle his belt used as a reward to grant you more satisfaction.

“You’re close, honey. Almost there.” He cooed with a needy and proud smile, his free hand petting your hair to incentivize you to continue as a great reward would soon come. His third finger taunting your opening while his thumb circled your clit to create more arousal.

When your nimble fingers had finally gotten rid of the worn leather, you pulled at it, throwing it across the kitchen to the living room without a care where it fell. Hyuck granted you with an excited laugh, pulling you in for a kiss as he slowly pushed in his third finger, the tip of it softly gracing through.

“Good girl! My God you’re too good for me! ” He spoke in between kisses, your tongue asking for more, caressing his lower lip. Hyuck admired the fucked out state you were in. Your eyes hooded and dark with need, your lipstick smudge from all these kisses, and your arousal seeped from around his fingers dribbling down your legs as tears would on your cheeks.

You were so needy, anything and any movement could make you release now and though you’ve masturbated throughout this dry spell you both put yourselves through— nothing could amount to how good he makes you feel even if it’s just with fingers. So of course you were needy, of course you wanted his fingers stuffed inside you and you wanted him to finally move them inside you.

That would’ve happened, if it wasn’t for Mark.

Hyuck whispered against your lips how he’d start moving his fingers now. His pillowy lips molding against yours, pulling you by your hair closer to his starving mouth; his fingers began to slowly move and as you were beginning to feel the pleasure your husband always granted you— the front door creaked open, too fast that all you two could muster was for Hyuck to remove his fingers from inside you in a hurry as he refused to let go of your lips.

The kiss didn’t last long, for odd reasons it was you who didn’t want Mark to see more of the scene. His subtle lingering gaze on your organism made you feel small under him, as if he was exhibiting some sort of disappointment or ache. His despondent expression left immediately to one of a playful smile, almost giving you whiplash from it.

“Good night I’m guessing.” He joked, removing his jacket and putting away the box of cigarettes in his hand. “Yeah, I guess so.” Hyuck laughed, turning his back to both of you. You didn’t stop looking at Mark, hoping he’d react to what he just saw even if you knew what you wanted him to react with. He didn’t though, he just gave you a nod to acknowledge your presence.

Your husband continued to make conversation with his friend, the one trying to avoid you for his own reasons. It was odd to say the least, on both of your parts. It was odd that minutes prior you were too enthralled with the man you’re married to but right now all you want was for Mark to say something to you, you almost wanted to apologize to him for having him walk into that scene.

You didn’t want to say it or think it— as the months pass by you’ll realize it felt like you were betraying him instead and not your husband.

Mark knew what you wanted though but he would pretend it was all in his head as he is still trying to process the discovery he’s made: he’s falling for his best friend’s wife.

So for the time being he’ll do his best to keep this relationship as it has been for the past years. Simple and platonic.

“But yeah, I think the meal was good. Y/n? What did you think?” Hyuck’s voice broke you out of the void, turning to him and then Mark. “I liked it, yeah.” Simply put. Hyuck deviated the conversation, opening the fridge to pull a drink for both you and him, asking Mark if he’d like one but in order to avoid you given it was harder for him to ignore your silent cry for a pick of attention— he opted to choose the going to sleep technique to leave the setting.

Mark shook his head, opening the door to the guest room to throw in his jacket. A tender tiresome smile, “Nah, it’s cool. I’m going to sleep, you guys continue to enjoy your night.” Hyuck simply shrugged, turning to the cabinets to pick out some snacks. In the moment he had done so, you rushed towards Mark, grasping his arm to stop him from fully entering the room.

He froze at the contact, feeling the area become warmer than his remaining body. Mark’s shocked face gave him away, he wasn’t meant for this type of situation. “I just—“ you turned quickly to look at Hyuck, the man still distracted with the boxes of popcorn.

“I just want to thank you.” Your remaining hand showing him the locket, a smile forming on his lips, one you mimicked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A shit eating grin while blush krept upon his beautiful chiseled cheeks, making your chest burn up at how you enjoyed that look on him. “Right… It means quite a lot actually— again, thank you, Mark. You truly do know your way to a girl's heart.”

You whispered the words, pulling him closer towards you and kissing his cheek as he grasped your hip in fear of any more proximity. It was quick but it felt eternal for you both, the fire in both of you making it difficult for him to go inside the room.

And though you both felt a beautiful yet painful fire, Hyuck from the corner of his eye saw such action, his own fire scorching with a new found feeling he was not liking.

“Hm…” he hummed quietly to himself, a pout ensuing on his lips, pretending it was nothing. I mean, he was his best friend and you were his wife— That’s. All. There. Is.

To avoid like the rest of you were, Hyuck feigned a smile, pulling you towards his arms the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen. You reciprocated the action, going further enough to kiss him. It was good enough to feel like the kiss you’ve given to his friend's cheek was nothing— that’s all he needed.

“What do you say we continue what we started in the room, huh?” He raised his eyebrow cheekily, a giggle leaving your lips to decline the offer. Whining as to why, your husband pouted at how you only continued to giggle, your arms wrapped tightly around his slim waist.

“Y/n-ie, come one~ why not?” he cried, kissing your lips softly before your neck. His plump lips encased your throat, his tongue lapping at the warm flesh that was making you reconsider your answer but the memory of him was making you stand your ground.

Kissing him one last time and holding his face in between your hands to make him focus on your words; “Mark is still awake, Hyuck. We can’t fuck with him fully aware, walls arent very thick.” You reasoned, kissing him once again.

You failed to notice his pout turn displeased, his expression overall seeming stoic now, aggravated. The film of love over your eyes blinding you from his change in demeanor; making your way towards the couch and inviting him to it just to keep up the facade of a normal marriage.

“Come on now or I’ll pick the movie.” You threatened, picking up the remote to the TV. Hyuck shot you a tender smile, one faltering as quickly as it appeared. “Go get comfortable first, I’ll prepare here.” His voice dropping, some defeat laced on it.

You smiled at him lovingly, oblivious to the way he stared at you and the rays of hurt exuding off of him. Closing the door behind you to get ready, Hyuck leaned forward, his head falling to his hands as he clutched it hoping all those thoughts would leave his head.

Mark is his best friend and you’re his wife. You and Mark are just friends— that’s all it is. But even if he tried to fool himself, this marriage was too fragile for him to not fully worry as he always has. History can repeat itself one way or another.

One ought to think that after that night in which you and Haechan had put aside any hatred for each other, that it would remain and the fighting would subside but that night only made things worse.

Whether it was the lingering sexual tension neither of you were to relieve that night and the ones to follow or simply how you two couldn’t put away the resentment that has grown but things were bleak nonethless.

Some part of Hyuck blamed you, he didn’t know when he began feeling hate towards you instead of pity and self hatred. And the other part blamed Mark. In countless arguments you always threaten him by mentioning the possibility of storming out of the room and spending the night with his best friend as he’s the only one who doesn’t irritate you.

As any partner would do, Hyuck grunted in frustration, picking up his pillow and slamming the door behind him as he took his spot next to Mark in the guest bed. Both men awkwardly and uncomfortable on the bed trying to avoid bringing you into the conversation.

For one because your name and presence made Hyuck enraged and for Mark he could only feel guilt bubble inside him while thoughts of you clouded his mind.

Mark and you had always gotten along. You both shared a love for the arts and that only made you both closer these months. When it didn’t pertain to art, you two always teamed up to bother Haechan as a taste of his own medicine for ever bothering either of you.

Times used to be good, dinners and parties were fun but the more he indulged in his work and tried to climb whatever hierarchy ladder there was, he became such a— such a dick. The actions he took upon when you were on a work trip didn’t help either.

You should’ve taken in all the signs from whenever you met the wives of his coworkers. Their sunken faces and dead eyes staring at you with pity when he first brought you around.

Their ‘awe’s’ and ‘oh’s’ when you shared how lovely Hyuck was to you and how you two met. His persistent love for you that’s led you to where you two were at the time. Their pity should’ve been obvious, at first it was jealousy but no one knew the truth of having men in this field like they do.

So now they look at you like you were finally one of them. Your miserable and tired gaze with every single one of these dinners. How annoyed you became every time Donghyuck opened his mouth to let out a joke or just speak. You had to catch yourself from rolling your eyes most of the time for his sake but it was becoming so exhausting when he didn’t try to do anything for your sake.

“So how’s the job hunt, y/n?” A nasally pesky sound buzzed towards your ears, bringing you out of your thoughts about tomorrow's plans. Lifting your gaze with confusion, you still turned to her.

Rapidly glancing at the people around the table ready to collect their coats, you held in your sigh as their attention was now fixated on you. “I’m not looking for a job.” You answered sharply, Donghyuck helping you into your coat, buttoning it up for you to keep up the perfect husband facade he’s trying to maintain.

She cocked her head, the hairspray held cylinder bangs bouncing but never moving with gravity. “Really? Hyuckie said you were looking for a job.” God how you hated her. ‘Hyuckie’? Yes you hated his guts as of lately but he’s still your man and jealousy is inevitable.

You threw a glared at him, “Don't call me ‘Hyuckie’, Merdia.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose knowing what she’s trying to initiate. She chuckled trying to slap his arm playfully but he backed up before she could touch him at all, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“No… I’m helping a friend of ours. He’s an artist himself so we’ve been contacting old clients of mine to get references or any openings.” The group began to walk as you talked, the clicking of all your heels collecting on the marble tile. She follows along, trying to get as close to you.

“An artist, how lovely.” One of the women added, smiling towards you. “Yes, he’s quite good. We’ve been working on some pieces for a while, while we wait for some responses.” You smiled fondly at her, your smile as wide as when you used to talk about Hyuck.

“He’s amazing actually…” your smile refused to diffuse. The woman chuckled, nodding as a response while Hyuck side eyed you, stoic his face became. “Mark is a good artist.” It came out too bitter from his mouth; emphasizing the ‘is’.

Reaching the front of the restaurant with the cars from the valet already at front the couples were getting ready to bid their goodbyes. “You speak so highly of him, if he’s available for commissions please let me know. All the pieces you’ve brought for our home fit so well I’d be so interested to see his work.” Another woman spoke, holding onto to her husband who smiled at her lovingly.

This was the brightest you smiled all night, nothing fake and short of past conversations. Haechan loved your smile, he really did but to know it brought Mark into the conversation was making his heart ache.

“You should really consider coming back as a consultant for the company, y/n. Keeping an eye on Donghyuck on your part is becoming tiresome.” His boss jokes, causing the party to chuckle. “Hope he hasn’t caused more trouble like he used to.” You commented, his lips falling against your cheek to reassure you he was no trouble at all.

His boss shook his head as a response. “He’s become too boring these past years, loose him up or something.” You laughed knowing he was absolutely right, patting your husband’s hand. “Well… it was a great night, thank you all for accompanying us once again. Sunhee has something to do early tomorrow so I’ll see us out, have a great night.”

Leading his wife in front of him carefully. In the process of going down the slight hill, one of her shoulder pendants dropped to the concrete. “Mrs. Oh you dropped your—'' Trying to help, you made your way towards it but before you could the obstacle or Merdia’s foot tripped you making you fall into the large fountain for cars to surround.

You splashed around with the shock of the cold water biting your body as Hyuck rushed to your aid and some of the people in the party trying to see if you were okay. Even the staff noticing the happenings rushed to get whatever they could to free you from the breeze and dry you up.

But either way you still shivered despite the panting host handing you two warm and folded towels that Haechan secured around you. “What is wrong with you for fuck’s sake.” Hyuck finally broke out, turning to the woman who pretended to be sorry, trying her best to grab you. Merdia was at a loss for words, stammering to say it was an accident but Hyuck retaliated with the exact happenings.

“That was of such poor taste, Merdia!” One of the women exclaimed, her wrinkled skin prominent the while she frowned in disbelief. “I— I didn’t mean to…” she spoke lowley, glancing at those around her but mainly Hyuck and her boss. The poor man couldn’t make it home yet without making sure you were fine.

“We all saw you stick out your foot, give it up.” The most cynical in the group spoke up, sipping from the drink she had ordered while the host brought you towels. Sometimes you feared you and Hyuck would turn out like her and her husband. Hating each other too much it was useless to try and hide it from the world.

She couldn’t even speak, your shivers and Hyuck’s cooing too loud for her to even process the scolding she was getting. “You two go ahead. Y/n is freezing. I don't want her to get sick.” Mr. Oh directed the both of you with his hand, rushing you both to his car while Hyuck apologized but everyone else reassured him it was not his fault and he shouldn’t do so on her behalf.

All you could hear was his boss telling her he’d want to have a talk with her tomorrow morning while his wife reassured her she was too immature for her grown age. As Hyuck drove away and made sure you were fully covered to not let the breeze cool you more, all you could think about was the hatred you had for the people in his job and those who’ve crossed his path inside that building. Even if Mr and Mrs. Oh were the sweetest people there can be, you’ve found to hate them to an extent.

He patted you down with his own blazer, covering your bare legs with another one he had in the back without a care if the expensive piece would be ruined. “Are you okay?” He asks concerned, his hand rubbing your arm to warm up the area. Pulling out of the place he continued to blabber, questioning and acting like he cared. He probably did but you didn’t want to believe it.

You never answered, shivering from both cold and anger. With every second of your silence and his aching chest, Hyuck grew frustrated, not knowing well how to process such emotions. They were bubbling up inside him and the worst of him was taking over, enough to not stop his mouth.

“For fuck sake, y/n say something! I’ve been asking you the entire ride if you’re okay, speak up!” To say his scream didn’t catch you off guard was an understatement, usually during arguments no one screamed so this was still new to you.

Even when you imagined your eyes to be wide they were cold to him. “There’s nothing to say.” Your hoarse voice broke out through gritted teeth. He scoffed, palms slamming the steering wheel. “Of course because all you have to say you’ll say to Mark.” That bitterness from earlier was back, his teeth grinded with the mention of his friend.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You turn to him, disgust masked on your face. “Every argument, every discussion, any free second— you’re always with him. You tell him everything, I’m your husband, not him! You’re supposed to have trust in me!” You can hear a sob stuck in his throat, trying his best to repress it but it kept fighting to come out.

Maybe if it was another time and a past year you’d feel pity but it was only infuriating you. “How do you want me to trust you when those stupid letters are still engraved in my fucking head? All those little greeting kisses? Even the ones of Marida—“

“Don’t even bring her up, I would never be with her.” Disgust laced in his tongue. “Of course I know you wouldn't be with her. She’s old and ugly, I know you too well but that stupid seaweed girl is still—“ now it was your turn to hold in the sob. You rather not continue, you’ve tried to hide for too long that you were still hurting from the events that have led to this decaying marriage.

“Y/n please…” his hand reached for you. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You spat, moving as far as the car door would let you. The action alone caused him to emit a frustrated growl. “That was a while ago! Stop bringing her up for fuck sake.”

The speed he was driving in was only accelerating almost as if he couldn’t really stop his emotions from taking over. “So what, Hyuck? It’s not going to change the fact that you still cheated.” This time you couldn’t stop yourself, your tears forcefully spilled, your silent cry increasing in sound the second your head bowed and hand reached your forehead.

You hated this, you really hated that he was seeing you this vulnerable but it did really hurt you to see the man that went out of his way to have you throw it all out for an ounce of attention.

It had started a year and a half ago, though brief, the wound is still very fresh in your heart. With just two years of marriage, Hyuck began to act more loving than usual. In any case that would’ve been fine but if you hadn’t temporarily gone back to work at the same company you’d never know it was due to a short haired redhead that would give him seaweed treats every time the company called her catering services.

She was sweet and kind. Every time he came around she’d blush and wasn’t able to hide it. Though his flirtation was innocent at first (as it always is) he began to like the attention she gave him. She was detailed about everything, from the color of her catering plates to the tiny designs on every treat but his specifically.

It went on for a while with just flirtation remarks and gifts, after a while they’d accidentally cross paths at the park where he’d walk the dog you shared and soon became their hang out spot where they’d talk and talk for hours until the sun would set and he’d have to walk her home. Sometimes he’d simply spend the night…

She’d tell him good night with a shy hug and a kiss to the cheek progressively getting closer to the corner of his mouth. Soon came the letters, the ones of her professing her love for him and how passionately she felt about him asking him to not speak of his own feelings just yet as she wasn’t ready for a response.

And when she had finally gotten emotionally prepared for a response, a divine intervention came. On the day you had come back from a trip for a piece to place at the front of the company— the catering team had been called.

With the table set and the treats and meals prepared, the employees came along. Anxiously waiting for his entrance with a plate of the same seaweed treats she’s been making him all these months, her face brightened up when he came into the picture.

You still recall the scene before you: Have forgotten your coat, Hyuck had offered to give you one of his he had kept in his office granting him to let you walk to the lounge area with the rest of the employees.

At the moment you had been standing with a few of his female coworkers catching you up on all the gossip you missed while out of town and working at a different company, laughing along to whatever they were saying when he had just walked in with his coat in hand searching for you but being stopped by that same red head.

You wouldn’t have thought anything of it was it not for how she excitedly pulled him in, her lips gracefully falling to the corner of his mouth given he turned his head so it wouldn’t have. She seemed to dismiss that as she handed him the treats and he thanked her.

She was rambling for a while making him grow a bit exasperated but she placed down any other plate and removed her gloves begging him to follow her outside the lounge. Looking around in hopes no one else caught what you had, you excused yourself to look for him in hopes the other two women around you didn’t follow.

You had ended outside the door, hidden behind the protruding wall to listen into their conversation but it was a grave mistake.

“I-I wrote you another letter.” She handed it to him, a shy smile along. “Don’t read it right now, I just want to make this quick because it’s eating me alive, but—“ she sighs nervously, hands beginning to shake and sweat.

Exhaling through her lips, “I’m at a point where it hurts so much being around you daily. I really like you, Donghyuck. I’ve made it clear in all these letters and with this one more. I dream of kissing you more than I already do, I want all of you and I finally want to know if you want me too.” Her voice was as shaky as her hands.

Hyuck was at a loss for words, he knew what he wanted to say but he knew he couldn’t, not when he loved you more than her. He could’ve said something but his initial thought was to take her into an embrace giving her false hope when she reciprocated it, smiling and sighing to herself the tighter she pulled him in. Her hands caressing his back like you always do.

The sight and confession was eating you alive, the lump in your throat was too heavy and hard, it was choking you. This was all killing you but you’ll be damned if you were to let anyone get him after your vows have been made.

Fighting with that lump you finally swallowed it, turning on your heel and walking towards them with determination and anger in your body.

“Hyuckie! What’s taking you so long?” Your voice as fierce as always, it’s a quality they all liked about you. “I— um well.” If he was to be truthful, he was shitting bricks in this instance.

“I’m cold, come— feel.” Your lips puckered up pecking him and your hands reached his cheeks making him laugh into the kiss. All the catering girl could do was look at the both of you dumbfoundedly, eyes large as her heart broke into million pieces.

“Yeah, I see— honey this is… well. She caters for the company.” Oh he was so full of shit. Turning to the girl in front of you two as he wraps his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. “This is my wife, Y/n. She’s an art consultant here.”

Poor girl, she just nodded as a response, meekly speaking her ‘nice to meet you’s’ before excusing herself before her throat fully closed up and the waterworks began.

When she was earshot away, you turned to him. The fire in your eyes turned soft and sad as your fists found themselves against his chest. “I leave you alone for three months and you do this to me?” The air was scarce around you, he didn’t make it better the more he tried to pull you in and his apologies spewed from his lips.

When he had finally taken a tight hold of you, you did your best to relax. Labored breaths against his chest, his apologies never ending followed by kisses that you tried to avoid.

“When we get home you’re giving me every single one of those fucking letters and trust if I see her again here or wherever the fuck you two are seeing each other, I will make sure you’ll be the one to wish you had never tried this stupid game.”

Hyuck knew of your status in the company and in his own field alone. Even if you didn’t have that leverage, a scandal like this was enough to ruin his career. As an increasingly important member he couldn’t afford an affair scandal, it wasn’t going well for any of his other coworkers.

So when he swore to never let it happen you rushed him to the lounge, taking the coat, putting it on, and walking to the washroom hoping the red head would be there. Lord knows you’d rather cry in one than let anyone in the building see you a sobbing mess.

But you’re always right, so upon opening the doors to the black marbled washroom, leaning against the matching sink— she tries to stop letting her tears spill. When the door harshly slammed, she turned around scared , only to continue her pained cries when she saw your face.

“I didn’t know he was married if that’s what you wanted to ask.” She hiccuped, trying her best to stop. “I know.” You answer, standing next to her in front of the other sink.

With your finger you clean up the smeared lipstick from the kiss, a reminder to her of what you can freely do whenever you want and all she could respond with was another sob. “Did he sweet talk you until you finally agreed to go out with him or something?”

She shook her head, wiping away some loose tears. “I was the one to start it all, he was just flirty so I thought he liked me back.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with a paper towel. “That’s just how he is. He playfully flirts with everyone.” That didn’t seem to make her feel any better, it was making her feel worse.

Angered at the turn of events, she looked at you with desperation. She could see why he wouldn’t leave you for her. You were beautiful, the way you carried yourself was so enticing and pleasant.

You were charismatic, confident, and it seemed like everyone loved you by the way people greeted you upon entering the lounge before him. Of course he wasn’t going to leave you, you were a diamond in the rough.

“Why are you here?” She questioned desperately, feeling more tears coming this time. With your lipstick at hand, you threw her a glance ignoring her as you retouched the color. When you had finished you turned to her, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

“I don’t blame you, you didn’t know he was married and the bastard was just having his little fun while I was away at your expense. But now you do know he’s married so I better not see you near him again.” The clicking of yours heels bold as your words upon reaching the golden handle.

Turning to her waiting for a response. “You’re not sorry about it, right?” You smiled at her, genuine curiosity upon the question. “Why should I be? You said it yourself. He was having his fun at my expense… Maybe just for you.” She sniffled again, clutching the paper towel to her chest.

“Smart girl.” With a final nod, you made your way out, dropping the facade and rushing to the elevator down to the basement and to your car. Just like she had, you allowed your tears to flow while leaning on the steering wheel, your hands slamming full force against the dashboard the louder your sobs became.

Everything from that point on went downhill. The dog perhaps had felt the atmosphere and months later had died leaving you alone to fend off your repressed emotions on your own. A month after that Hyuck had made you leave the company you worked at, given your state, along telling you he needed more time with you and perhaps nothing would’ve happened if you didn’t travel out the country for months on end. It all led to where you were at now.

If it wasn’t for Mark being around, you’d still be moping about the situation. How can someone that’s done everything in his power to be with you and love you more than he loves himself do that to you?

How can he, after four years together, allow something like this to happen when you’re not home and then blame you for the happenings? If you hadn’t interrupted them, he would’ve confessed he also felt something for her. Not as strong as he feels for you but he would still feel an attachment.

“Just, please…” He pleaded, fear in his voice. “I keep telling myself not to write to you all the time, but the mere thought of you is so strong, but I can’t help writing thousands of letters to you everyday and every second. I hope you like the seaweed treats, and make them all for you.’ I hope you like the seaweed treats. I make them all for you.' You fucking hate, seaweed Hyuck.”

He was more amazed that you memorized all that but knowing how you were you had probably fixated on that part of each letter that entire week he gave them to you. “I read over your letters day and night. Can’t stop thinking about you and I know I’ve told you multiple times not to tell me how you feel, a part of me can tell how you feel from all your letters and the way you touch me.”

“Y/n, stop!” Hyuck yelled at you. He didn’t really understand if he was more angry that you still brought it up or that you kept reciting stuff you were keeping away from him. “I wish the cheek kisses were more than just that, sometimes I really wish I could kiss you but for now I’ll settle for this.’ That’s before you your last few letters by the way.“

He was driving recklessly at this point, the car, either speeding or swerving, but neither of you could care much. Before you knew what he had pulled up to the basement of your apartment complex, parking in the assigned spot.

Neither of you got out of the car. He just sat there in silence basking in the uncomfortable atmosphere that both of you created.

“You know I still think about that cheek kiss, and how many more there have been.

“Probably just as many as the ones you’ve been giving Mark.”

It was your time to scoff offendedly, looking at him with disgust and anger in your eyes. “Aw fuck you! Mark and I have always been platonic! And yes I do tell him everything, he listens to me, he remembers the small things, he actually tries to be of comfort unlike you.”

Your fists found your thighs, the textile of his coat sliding off to the floor of the car. “By the way, really? Sending him to buy the gift?” Pulling at the locket, you show it to him. “You’re sad you’re not the man I met…” You slumped back against the car seat, unbuckling yourself ready to get out.

“Well neither are you! You’re not that lively girl anymore—“

“Because you ruined me! You make everyone around you miserable! Mark and I have a great time until you come home and bring us down with you! You suck like the life out of people, Hyuck. Even the dog died because of what you started!”

That was enough for the both of you. Glaring each other down in silence as the animosity settled around you, suffocating you both to the point you just shook your heads and threw the towels and remaining coats to the back of the car while stepping out, slamming the car door and leaving him be, hearing his screams as he slammed his fists on the wheel and dashboard while you walked away.

Just like the day that started all this, you rushed to the elevator allowing your sobs to become louder. With every rising number, your pleas to stop the tears followed suit in case Mark was still awake.

You didn’t want him to see you like this. It already pains you enough that Haechan was able to see you crumble because of him, you didn’t want Mark to see how vulnerable you could be again.

But what you didn’t know is that Mark has already seen your vulnerability besides your anniversary night. With every passing month he’s stayed with you, you granted him an open window of what else you could offer and he liked that more and more as the days passed.

Entering the threshold of the apartment and leaving the door unlocked for when Donhyuck decided to come in, your feet waltzed towards Mark’s room. The faintest of music could be heard, you couldn’t hear him but you could hear the song.

‘Someday you will ache like I ache…’

Sang in a loop, spinning inside your head the closer you got to the door. Hyuck was right, you did want to open the door and tell Mark tonight’s happenings. You wanted him to take you into an embrace and comfort you but you didn’t want Hyuck to be right and your initial thoughts on your vulnerability weren’t allowing it either.

There was nothing else to do but head towards your bedroom, throwing Hyuck’s pillow to the living room before finally locking the door behind you. The song kept repeating itself as you prepared yourself for bed, the volume in your head increasing with every movement you made up until your head hit your cold lonesome pillow.

The stupid song was only making you want Mark to be right beside you, to at least see him before you slept so you could end the night in a good note and not the bitterness your husband made you endure.

So now that your face wasn’t as puffy from the crying and only the tingling remained, you jumped from the bed rushing to his room glad Hyuck was taking his time in the garage.

The pitter-patter of your feet against the tile was loud for you, the creaking of his door making you wince as it screeched at you, and the song was even more loud to you than it already was.

Illuminated by a desk lamp and the city lights while his curtains remained slightly ajar, you approached his resting body. He looked so peaceful in this position, holding tightly to one of the pillows. It’s decor fur rustling with the whistles of his silent snores. Aside from peaceful, he looked beautiful.

The image of him was making your chest twist and turn; crouching down to eye level when your hand subconsciously fell to his face. Caressing the growing stubble he tried so hard to remove but you loved so much.

He wasn’t much of a deep sleeper, the touch alone waking him up much to your fright. Ready to remove your hand from his face, his hand held it in place as the other rubbed at his eyes. With you in front of him and the placement of your hands, Mark quizzically looked at you, still squinting away his slumber.

“What’s up?” Was all he could muster, trying his best to smile but found it too tedious. You shook your head, returning the smile. “Did the music bother you? Let me just turn it of—“

“The music is fine.” You stopped him from bolting up. The last thing you wanted was for him to lose his comfort. This time around he was finally waking up, well slightly given he nodded with one eye closed and the other open, still trying hard to smile.

“Scoot over.” Patting the pillow, he follows your orders tossing it to the other side and freeing a spot for you. When able to, you climbed on the bed beside him, facing him and taking his arm to wrap around your waist as if you were that pillow.

Mark felt shaky at the situation, his hands becoming clammy and trying his best for you to not figure out how nervous you were making him. “So… It’s your turn to sleep here tonight?” He joked, his smile finally showing.

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head, causing him to chuckle. “He’d rather see me sleeping on the road than being in bed with another man.” Noticing his rising fright, your finger pressed against your lip, signaling that it’ll be your little secret to which he nodded trying his best to have that smile return.

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a good night again?” His eyes fixated on the way your face muscles contorted. “It is now!” You laugh, taking a hold of his hand squeezing it between your hands. Mark reciprocated the laugh, his body unconsciously getting closer to yours.

“Wanna talk about it?” You shook your head. “I do want to talk about my favorite person right now, though.” You turn to him, cupping his cheek in your now free hand. He smiled shyly, eyes shutting tight the more overwhelmed he became.

“Is tomorrow’s interview still on?” As told to the wives of Hyuck’s coworkers, you had been helping Mark during his job hunt. Contacting old bosses of yours and art lovers in hopes they’d take him in and help him gain that passion for the arts on a commercial level.

Though things were radio silent these months, finally someone had called him back and asked if he could go in for an interview in hopes of hiring him for some installations for a new chain of restaurants the man was soon to open and maybe a position at one of his studios.

With the mention of the interview, his already wide eyes grew and a coat glossed over the moment he began to excitedly ramble about his ideas and just genuine happiness of finally going back into a studio.

He was adorable to say the least; the unintentional stammering, his slipping laughs from joy, and his unconscious emotional movements the more he got excited over this opportunity. To say the least perhaps Mark and you weren’t too far with how you felt and you weren’t much better than Hyuck.

Nevertheless, if he was going to be selfish then you would too.

“Then make sure to get a goodnight sleep so you can look refreshed and ready. Prayers, you'll get it!” You exclaimed excitedly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug.

He didn’t hesitate this time, arms tightening around you. His hands begin to roam against your skin and his exhales landing on your hair, rustling them like ferns in a windy gloom beach. It felt too familiar yet foreign as the sensation was new but the visual wasn’t.

“Night.” He whispered against your ear, his long fingers tracing patterns against your flesh to the point goosebumps formed. Mark smiled at the reaction, his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, fighting to not inch closer to the swollen lips.

“Night…” you whispered back when he let you go, staring at each other whilst you struggled to get out of his bed, the smell and warmth of you intoxicating him tonight.

“By the way, Hyuck is still in the car. Do you mind getting him if he doesn’t come back by the time you go to sleep?” There the moment went at the mention of his best friend, your husband. His smile dropped but he nodded.

Finally being able to close the door behind you, your feet rushed to lock the apartment door then your shared bedroom with Haechan who even now had not returned not thinking about how the mention of him had drastically changed Mark’s demeanor.

Situated in your cold bed once again, the city lights being the only source of illumination and the mixture of Mark’s song with the water pipes lulled you into the night. The thoughts of how history was only repeating itself with the exception that it was your turn to get a lick of Happiness.

Mark did make you happy and his actions tonight only worked as reassurance that he saw you the same way you were seeing him now. As fucked as this entire situation is, it’s only fair that Hyuck aches like you have been these years.

Morning came and all that was left of Hyuck was his pillow right next to your head, his smell lingering in the sheets when you woke and his spot still warm. Maybe he hadn’t spent the night in Mark’s room or he had paid you a visit while you slept but you still couldn’t let your anger subside.

As in for Mark, you both ignored any lingering attraction, his chirpy self hyping the possibilities of getting the job. That’s what you liked about Mark, even when in a rut he was trying his best to act positive.

With the goal of getting through that interview, you sat in the waiting room, idly flipping through the magazines as he talked with your old friend. Prayers in your tongue, sliding around and hoping he’d get it.

So when he walked out through the white doors, smiling and laughing along to the jokes of the man beside him, things only looked as bright as him. His tie was a mess, flimsy and slightly undone. The button of his shirt undone and showing enough clavicle, smudges of graphite mixing in with sweat. His dress pants were worse off, splatter of oil paint in the bottom and drying stoneware seeping in.

Disturbance in your face overpowered the smile you tried to give him, insanely frustrated for how much trouble it would be to remove all those stains. But it later dawned on you that he did his own laundry and often told you to not do these things for him.

On one end it was nice that he assured you he didn’t depend on you but on the other you wanted him to— you were getting too used to the life Hyuck and you have been living… god, you seem to have forgotten all the times you’ve fought with him to do laundry as well, now you just do it for both of you.

“Don’t look so gloom, darling. I didn’t beat him.” The older man told you, your muscles relaxing at his soft voice. “You did add trouble to the laundry load, Yasuki.” Your fingers ran across the stained spots, not quite noticing how Mark flexed his muscles from your touch, nervously laughing at the happenings.

If you could see how you were looking at him you’d probably slap yourself. Your eyes glistened at the sight of him, his brown locks tamed back but that strand of hair still managed to fall over and play with his vision. It didn’t help that he was sweaty and his shirt was showing you a bit more skin than expected.

“So how did he do?” You question straightening Mark’s sleeves. “That’s for him to tell you,” he winked at you, noticing he had a brush in hand to which he tapped against his leg. “I’d like to catch up but I have a meeting in five, so please excuse me.” His mustache ruffled a bit with every movement of his lip.

You found it endearing how charismatic the old man was. He was so jolly that as he parted ways from you both, he skipped towards his office, that same brush tapping on his knees twice with each step. In a better life you’d want to be that happy.

“So?” You question Mark, hand reaching to wipe his forehead and rid of his sweat. “So?” He mimicked, a bright smile that could only make you mirror it with every step you two took towards the elevator.

The ding was heard and the doors ungraciously opened, both stepping in. “Come on~” you whined at his lack of response, Mark laughing quietly at how desperate you sounded.

“Well how would you think I did?” He asks, stepping out the elevator once the doors opened, following after you. You shrugged on the way to the car, letting him speed his step to open the door for you.

“You have to give me more than that if you expect an answer.” He cheekily smiles down on you, closing the passenger’s door and walking over to the driver's side. “Judging from how you came back, I’d say he had you working quite hard so he probably liked your style!” Excitement laced your voice, turning to him after buckling up.

“Ding ding ding!” You look at him with joy. “So you got the job?!” Your voice was now squeaky, eyes almost bulging out. “Yes and no… he gave me some options first.” Cocking an eyebrow and leaning your head to the side, you looked at him with huge curiosity.

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, tongue nervously swiping across his bottom lip, eyes averting to avoid yours. “One… if I want to continue with my own mediums, I’d have to relocate to his studio in a different city. It’s not as far, maybe two hours or so but far for a daily trip it is.”

You felt your world crumble and he had only given you the first option, you felt it stab your chest repeatedly. “Or two— his studio an hour away but it’s strictly digital art and design. It’s much closer and maybe if I take the express lines at the highway it’ll be faster but— I have no clue how digital art works so I’d be quite behind than the rest of the team.”

Mark was more concerned with his options that he failed to see the bigger image. With whatever option he took, he’d have to leave you regardless and that’s what was killing you right now. Your excitement was gone and right now you regretted recommending him.

“What? What’s wrong?” He finally stopped his blabbering, noticing the look on your face was the same one you gave Hyuck when he hurt you. If there was something Mark didn’t want was to be compared to his best friend.

“You’ll be moving out won't you?”

“Well yeah…”

You shift on your spot, head hanging low.

“Please don’t. I promise we don’t mind you staying, actually it’s been the best thing to happen to me.” He dismissed the fact that you were talking about yourself, not wanting to make illusions out of it.

“Y/n,” he softly chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek and making you turn to him. “I can’t commute daily for one-to-two hours, honey.”

Oh… that wasn’t good.

The sweet adoring look in his eyes wasn’t helping either. “Come on, I did tell you I’d stay for only a little bit didn’t I?” He tenderly smiled, thumb playing with the corner of your lips, all you could do was pout at him.

“I didn’t expect it to be too short, I like you around. It’d be better if you just stayed with us.” He found your protruding lower lip adorable, unconsciously rubbing his thumb across it. “Thanks, but you guys are married, I can’t just third wheel all the time. Maybe if you two were just dating it’d be different but you're not and sooner or later you’ll form a family, I’d just stick out like a sore thumb.”

A family with Donghyuck? God, you put that thought in the back burner for too long after the incident that the words were making you ill now. Even when you two were dating, the idea of a family wasn’t something pleasant.

Mark took your silence as you still being sad about him possibly leaving, patting your arm and stretching his arms to take you in an embrace. “Don’t be so pouty, it won’t do us any good.” He spoke against your ear once his arms wrapped around your shoulders.

He felt warm, his musk even more prominent than last night. Your own arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer even when the shift stick was in between.

“Just really wish you wouldn’t leave us…” you pulled away slightly, enough to make him turn to look at you. “Wouldn’t leave me.” In a whisper, the words hit his lips.

Mark’s lips parted, shaky breaths leaving as he noticed how close you were. When the lingering stares didn’t subside until you leaned in to what he assumed was a kiss to his cheek; it took him by surprise when your lips fell upon his.

His eyes widened in shock but the flavor of your cherry stain was too sweet and the taste of you was intoxicating. He’d be a liar if he said wanted to pull away but just with all temptation, Mark fell into it.

His arms tightened around you, his eyes shutting and finally reciprocating the kiss you initiated. He loved the small whines that spilled from your lips. He swallowed them all with every passing that he’d part his, deepening the kiss and both your hands began to roam.

You felt it in your core, that excruciating desire when his nimble fingers danced around the hem of your shirt, finding an opening so he could stick his hand under it. Your flesh was cold against his, aching at how his fingers cooled with just a touch.

Your hands had unraveled from his waist, now playing with the buckle of his belt. Popping it open, and continuing the quest with his pants. He’d harden with every touch of yours, your palm rubbing his cock over the strained textile that only made him ache more.

His warm fingers felt like fire against your freezing flesh, they danced across your back, caressing it until they met with the strap of your bra. Playing with the clasp until he was able to unbuckle it and his hands rushed to your breasts, kneading the mounds that seemed to be made for his hands. A perfect fit.

Your moans loudly cascaded into his mouth, his tongue enveloping yours with every passing kiss. When your hands managed to pull at the hem of his briefs and finally grasp his hardened shaft; his own moans became present.

Eyes shut tightly, he bit your lower lip pleasurably painful. Your hands had warmed up in the process of touching him, that warmth making him feel like pity under your grasp with every pump you gave his cock.

“I want to taste you.” Your voice broke him out of his daze, your lips finding solace in his neck, licking and nipping at the flesh. Mark moans vibrating through his throat, making you ravish his neck even more, your hand moving at a rhythm that was causing him to shake under you.

Upon opening his eyes, it had dawned on him that you two were still in the parking lot of the studio. A wave of freight flooded him and a gasp left his lips along a worried ‘fuck’.

“Wait, stop, stop!” His abruptness confused you and almost scared you. If he was regretting this already you didn’t know how to take it. “We can’t do it here, I think I saw a lake not far from here.” But he put your mind at ease making your concerned frown turn into a smile, leaning in to kiss him as he tucked himself back in.

Looking around to make sure no one had seen anything, Mark rushed out of the parking lot. Your labored breaths faintly mixing with the radio conductor mentioning to make plans for the new millennium and enjoy the last months of this year.

Some were frightened and others were scared. As for you, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that Mark arrived to you months before the 2000s. Maybe that’s the new beginning everyone is talking about.

Minutes later, you’d arrive at the lake he was talking about. Maybe it was because he was speeding from his excessive desire but he found a spot in which you’d both be hidden from the public. Rushing out and towards you; Mark made sure to cramp both of you inside the backseat.

From how rushedly you both went in, some bumps along the way weren’t missed, making you both whine but forget about it when looking at each other. Hyuck wasn’t present in Mark’s mind but he was in yours.

You were really doing this and remorse was difficult to find.

“God, I’m so glad I can have you like this.” His lips spewed after each of his kisses on you. They were warm with every passing peck, attaching themselves to yours. Your hips began rutting against his groin, the thin piece of skirt doing nothing to hold off.

Instantly Mark could feel the wet patch, groaning at how warm it was. Fuck, he wanted you badly.

Upon pulling away from the kiss you two were too enthralled in, Mark looked at you through hooded dark eyes. He looked at you as if you were prey, the one who’d succumb to him and the way his grip on your waist tightened told you so.

Patting your ass while bunching up your skirt, “Lay on your back, I wanna eat you out.” His voice had dropped an octave, the huskiness making you shiver as you unbutton your blouse, the bra falling gracefully once free from the confinement of the buttons.

Curses spilled from his lips looking at you on his journey to kneel on the floor of the car, trying his best to push up the front seats to give him enough space. His once dark eyes glistened at the view of you, all that was left was the tiny fabric of your panties and the bunch around your waist.

He caressed your thighs, leaning in to leave tiny wet kisses against the flesh that caused your eyelids to flutter from how close he was to your cunt. You could feel his breath fanning over the area, your legs twitching as he inched closer and closer.

When his lips hovered over your clothed cunt, Mark looked at you through his lashes, smirking at the state he had left you, blowing on your aching mound. “Stop fucking around.” You whined, hands clutching onto your breast, fingers twirling around your perked buds.

Mark chuckled, nodding in response before his fingers pushed aside the fabric of your panties. Moans erupting from his throat with every strand of your arousal stuck to your panties. He didn’t take much to please you, his own want taking over his being.

Mark felt too happy about having you that he didn’t think about anything, not even the fact that he was betraying his best friend. Essentially his brother.

His tongue came in contact with your slit, swiping upwards to meet your clit and continue the process of enticing kitty licks. You’ve been starved for so long that just the simple caress of his warm muscle was making you wither underneath him.

Your fingers danced across your skin, leaving warm trails on the frozen canvas. You couldn’t stop looking at him, progressively divulging further the more he fell obsessed with the taste of you. Mark ravaged the cavern between your legs, his lips glossed over by your juices that dripped down his chin.

He looked beautiful.His eyes screwed shut as he savored you, tongue laying flat when it wasn’t on your clit, his fingers grappling your thighs tightly enough to not let you go, and his lips refusing to let their suction go from you clit.

Your moans cascaded out your lips like a siren’s song, reeling him deeper and deeper into your trap. He didn’t mind, if he was to die at your hands then so be it, at least he’ll die blissfully.

Enveloping his rosy lips on your clit, he latched onto it for dear life. Suctioning with force, much to your pleasure, Mark basked in the whimpers you let out. Withering under his touch and crying when he only kept granting you more pleasure.

It didn’t help he teased your entrance with his fingers, making you cry over how much you wanted to feel full. In that instance, he parted from you, allowing you to spew your angry whimpers.

“Look at me.” He patted your thigh forcefully enough to leave a sting behind. “Come on.” He demanded, repositioning himself closer to you, a perfect fit between his face and your cunt.

When you were finally able to open your eyes, you breathed out at the experience he was granting. “Don’t look away or close your eyes. I’ll stop if you do.” He menacingly spoke, smirking at how you responded with a frown and a nod.

“Good girl. ” Fuck.

Breaking eye contact with you; Mark puckered his lips, accumulating spit that as of now he was letting slide down his tongue and onto your cunt. That same muscle poking out to spread it across your labia and clit.

A hand came up to your mouth, trying your best to muffle the cry he caused. It didn’t help he found your frustrations amusing and his chuckles made a vibration that sent you overboard even more.

You’d both could end up dying at each other’s hands.

His tongue lapped at your clit, collecting his spit and your arousal around the mound each time he was to suck on it. Mark knew you liked it, your body always reacted by shaking and your fingers threading onto his hair.

He liked the sting from when you pulled on his locks. He liked when you shoved his face closer to the point you began to ride his face while his tongue penetrated you, licking upon every inch of your walls. It didn’t help that he tried his best to not break eye contact. With every moment and action, you’d both look at each other like your life depended on it.

“Mark please… please let me finish, fuck—“ it came out strangled. His fingers clung to your skin, rubbing your clit each time his lips left it to allow his tongue to fuck you.

He hummed against your cunt, warm breath fanning over it before kissing it passionately again. Mark didn’t respond but he did give you a show. With the way he sensually stuck out his tongue to caress your slit upon allowing his lips to land on your mound, you couldn’t help but feel that excruciating pit in your stomach flow to core, tingling painfully.

He teased you each time. When he laid his tongue flat, he’d throw you a glance before shutting his eyes and swallowing your essence, fully intoxicated by it.

“Mark!” You whined, a chilling tantrum to ensue. “Alright, alright, you big baby.” He laughed, swiveling his tongue flat against you. You felt your eyes roll and when he thought you were disobeying his one request, he nipped your thigh, causing you to squeal at the shock.

“What did I tell you?” He cocked his eyebrow, teeth clenching around your sensitive flesh. “I’m looking, I’m looking.” You reassured, a look of despair on your face. A silent snort left him before resuming his activities.

All that was heard was the mixture of labored breaths, cries, his deep moans, and the squelching between your cunt and his mouth. You couldn’t hold back much longer, it was becoming overstimulating and Mark didn’t hold back off much with how he worked his tongue.

He seemed to sense your frustrations. His fingers picked up the pace on your bud, pressing down for more friction while his tongue entered you. Pistoning in and out, collecting every drop and making sure it didn’t spill to the car seat.

You couldn’t hold much longer, your thighs clenched around his face, causing him to look directly at you while your body gave out on you. He pressed down on your lower abdomen with his free hand. In a matter of seconds, you twisted under him. A coil unraveling where he held you and a loud moan leaving as a cry, your essence gushing out, covering his facial lower half.

He made sure to not let a single drop go, his tongue overstimulating you to no end but nevertheless stopped his assault. Your eyes were fixated on his, desperate want making you pull him by the neck, ravishing his lips with yours.

The sweet nectar of you clinging to his tongue, the same tongue that waltzed around with yours. In the process of holding onto him for dear life, Mark kicked off his pants, shimming out of them and his briefs. Bare beneath, he pulled you over his aching cock, the tip gracing your lower half enough to make you squirm desperately.

“Fill me whole…” You whispered against his lips, biting them from time to time to signal how much you needed him. “Shit, looking at you is going to make me cum already.” You laughed along with him, connecting your lips again while your hips rutted against his cock.

The silk of your walls rubbing against him, groaning in despair with every single of your movement, and he couldn’t even hold you or he’d make you go faster. He needed to be inside of you badly or he’d probably end up splattering all over his stomach.

“Yeah?” You questioned, face leaning against your shoulder, gripping his shirt so tightly it could leave wrinkles on it. “I want to paint your walls and feel it all ooze down them while I fuck it into you.” Mark’s words made you feel lightheaded, speeding up your pace and your fingernails to cling onto his shoulder blades.

He winced at the sting, removing your hands before pulling off his shirt, sweat drenching his bare chest. His proportions were insane; his slim physique enticing you to wrap your arms around him, holding tightly to his small waist as his abs clenched with the feeling of you against him.

“Lift your ass up a bit.” He commanded, holding your lower back while pumping his shaft, letting his precum collect at the tip. You took this as an opportunity to kiss the exposed skin of his neck. Your tongue licking stripes along his clavicle while it made its way to his jaw, leaving kisses all along it.

You could feel his disgruntled moans vibrating against your lips the more he jerked himself off, leaving you dry and needy with occasionally taunting of his tip rubbing against your cunt causing you to whine against his ear for him to laugh at your misery.

“Mark, stop teasing!” You cried against his chest, your hands clinging onto him. Your hips began rutting against him again, lowering them until he’d smack his large hand across your flesh— reacting with a jolt and a gasp of arousal, your cunt never failed to clench around air.

“You’re so needy, princess. I guess I can’t keep you waiting.” His lower lip pushed out in faux apologies, a smirk creeping out when you rolled your eyes at him. He only laughed, kissing you while aligning his cock with your cunt, eagerly ready to dive in.

He didn’t tease you anymore. Taking a grasp by your waist, Mark aided you to sink onto his cock, the stretch of his girth making you mewl like a wounded cat. You didn’t imagine him to be this big even when you held him you didn’t think much of it but now that he was fully in you and gravity was only making him fill you to the hilt, you fully felt his volume.

His hands caressed your face and hair, patting down the strands while you tried your best to become comfortable around him. You didn’t expect it to be this difficult, maybe it was because of your lack of sexual life with Hyuck that any intrusion was foreign but God were you starting to enjoy the pain mixed with pleasure his best friend was sprawling within you.

“You good?” He wondered, eyes fighting to keep open and experience your every movement fearing the moment would be gone if he didn’t keep himself fixated on you. “Yeah— fuck me, please…” you begged, your hips beginning to move against his. His lips fell ajar, his curses spilling in a prayer, fingers denting your skin the tighter his grip became.

He created scratch marks along the flesh; his hips met your rhythm and your silent pleads became audible when you felt the angry tip of his cock kiss upon your walls leaving its gratitude in the form of gratification.

As for him, he felt your walls tighten around him, ready to clear him of all his cum— claiming him as your own. It wasn’t helpful that you were also holding onto him not wanting to let him go, your lips enticing him with every caress you gave.

“You drive me insane, y/n…” he began, the sound of skin slapping against skin fading any other besides your labored breaths. His breath danced across your cheek, ruffling the hair that stuck to the sweat you produced. “I never thought we’d end up in this predicament but it feels as if it was meant to be— you for me and—“ your lips encased his, not letting him finish his sentence.

Whatever it was that he was trying to clear out was long forgotten the second your hips picked up their speed and the rhythm of your swiveling pelvis made him groan into the kiss. “I can’t get enough of you and this is only the beginning.” He laughed in between pauses, you shushed him in the process.

You didn’t want to hear him talk besides his obscenities and praises, that’s all. It wasn’t time to bring in the reality you two will face or that awaits you. All that was precious at the moment was his cock stuffed inside your cunt causing both of you unimaginable pleasure.

His eyes left yours, looking in between both of you. Mark lowered his head, accumulating spit in his mouth before letting the string of saliva fall onto your cunt. He took some of the spit that fell between you both and took it upon your clit.

Biting his lower lip, pushing his hair back a bit— Mark continued to thrust his hips, fingers starting to circle at your clit clockwise. His grunts became louder just like yours with the amount of friction between you both. When his pelvic bone rubbed in between your bodies as his fingers went hard at your clit, you couldn’t help but feel your legs shake.

The image of his spit dribbling down the tip of his tongue onto where you two connected was engraved in your mind, head throwing back by mere memory. “Do it in my mouth.” You told him, hand cupping his cheek. “Spit in it?” He questioned, you nodded, sticking your tongue out much to his pleasure.

Puckering his lips, Mark saw the string of saliva land perfectly on your red muscle. You held it out for him to see as he thrusted into you, the pool rippled and threatened to fall with each of these jolts. Closing your mouth to swallow his residue, you stuck your tongue out again to show him you had taken all of it, simulating what you could do if it was his cum.

He groaned at the image before him, the glistening of your sweaty chest blinding him as he pulled you closer to him by your cheeks. His fingers dug dents into your flesh as he held them tightly.

“You’re so hot, fuck!” A guttural groan left him, this time his spit was angry by the way it splattered in your mouth. This time he didn’t let you swallow it, his lips softly collided against yours, hot and angry was the plump flesh that ravished yours, nipping in hopes to receive more of your wanton noises.

His tongue felt soft against yours, like that of satin and velvet rubbed against each other with the warmest of liquid coating them both. Sloppy the kiss was becoming, enough to let air in and make it last longer. You loved the taste of him, whether it was the mint-iness of his toothpaste or the blueberry tea he drank before leaving the apartment— it was driving you crazy how obsessed you were becoming.

Mark was so near, with how hard he was thrusting within you, walls warm and clenching around his bare cock— all he wished for was to cum, to cum on you, in you, or over you— it didn’t matter. He just wanted to cum and now he couldn’t really help himself.

“I can’t hold it any longer.” He warned you, removing his fingers from your clit, hands now holding tightly onto your hips. “Mark…” you whimpered, eyes barely opened, sweat accumulating at your neck making it all so sticky but it seemed to be over quite soon. Your forehead pressed against his, hand holding onto his neck.

“Huh?” He’d respond, moving his hips once again, his pace only increased when you didn’t continue talking. “God, keep going.” You finally answered him, a soft chuckle leaving his lips before his head dipped down and kissed you once again. His lips soon trailed down your neck, tongue lapping at the thin flesh between your collarbones holding back to not leave any marks.

It was eating him alive. Not because of Hyuck but because he wanted a mark on you to know this wasn’t a dream that he was actually fucking you and that you had chose him. But all he could muster was licking your flesh, savoring you to at least have that memory. Even the marks his teeth made disappeared quickly, taunting him and his credibility.

You pulled his hair to make him look at you again, a pained yelp leaving his open mouth. He looked so pretty it could make you cry. In that instance you took him in for another kiss, just like him this was the only memory you could have.

The kiss worked to muffle your increasing moans while he thrusted within you. By how close your bodies were, his lower half began rubbing at your sensitive clit. He seemed to know how sensitive you were down below as he only kept going faster and harder, allowing your fingers to dig deeper into his shoulders.

You were so close, he knew it. Mark knew how close you were and it didn’t help him at all. Your lips parted from his as yours mewls became highly audible, lips slightly agape. Mark couldn’t help but wonder how your lips covered in cum would look like. Just the imagery of the warm cloudy substance on your swollen lips made him hold onto your waist to fuck further more into you.

“I can feel you so deep inside me,” you laughed against his neck, lips gracing his delicate flesh. “You’re twitching so much, just let go, Markie...” Your words sent him into a frenzy. His eyes screwed shut, his fingers refusing to let go of you and it wasn’t of much help that his sensitive tip was rubbing up against your warm walls. Kissing his cock with every thrust and squeezing in frustration every time it threatened to leave them.

Oh, fuck he couldn’t help himself. With one last thrust and on the verge of cumming; Mark pushed you further down his cock as much as he could despite how much he’s abused your cunt with this same action alone. You clenched around him from the friction, your pleasured cries from the impact locking inside his ears making his cock leak like an angry water hose in the horrid summer trying to release everyone from the heat.

You felt the spurts shoot painfully within you, a new wave of pleasure that shocked you from how long you haven't felt cum coat your cavern. The instance he did, your own eyes bulged out, lips forming a perfect ‘O’ that graced against his.

Both shared moans, swallowing them while trying to breathe and in the process you felt that same flush of pleasure in your lower abdomen. You chased your orgasm, continuing your movement against his cock, overstimulating him to the point he felt an ache with each stroke but if it meant you were feeling good, then so be it.

It wasn’t much longer until you felt that ache as well, slowing down the movement of your hips, your grip loosening from him but his didn’t on you. Upon stopping your actions, Mark brought you face closer, his lips leaving sloppy kisses along your temple and side of the face, while his praises spilled like a lullaby.

“ You did so good …” He huffed out, kisses on your cheek. “ You did so good for me, princess .” He swallowed trying to regain his breath, forehead connecting with yours in the process of trying to calm yourself down as well.

“You’re so good to me, y/n. You’re too good to me, you were made for me, you’re mine.” He chuckled, patting your cheek to make sure your fluttering eyes looked into his round doe ones. You didn’t respond, he didn’t give you an opportunity to do so.

With a quick and final kiss from him, Mark took you into an embrace, arms tightly around you with no way to free yourself from it (not like you wanted to at the moment) leaving you to simply return the gesture and hold onto him tightly. His cock still buried in you.

You could hear his heartbeat fighting to calm down but having you this close to him wasn’t much help. In that instance it all came crashing down on you and him. His once happy smile fell the moment clarity came in and the trees outside rustled. Their wind chimes slipping in between branches and leaves, repeating the same thing he’s already processing. There was some shame but no guilt or regret. He felt pity for Hyuck and the friendship they had. It all came to one conclusion:

He’s betrayed his brother.

if you liked 'happy together' then you'll like: airbag

please let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2 or fill out the taglist form in the masterlist! no blank or ageless blogs!

taglist: @haknyeonsju @bbymatz

#neohub #nct-writers #nctcreations18 #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #mark lee smut #haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee #haechan #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #haechan x you #haechan x reader #nct fic

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clairxandra · 9 months

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Okay so

I’ve been finally finishing my four (4) play throughs that are in act 3 and last night I fought (and crushed) the absolute with my bard Taylor Swift as My Feet Can Carry Me

She’s an already successful performer who was touring in Baldurs Gate at the time of the wormification. (The absolute said imma let you finish but -) Now it’s her and her lyre against the world.

I originally made her to romance Shadowheart (duh) but somehow that adorable bastard of a wizard won her heart in act 1 and there was no going back from there

So fast forward 3 months , 4 act 3s and 120 hours (on this file) and I’m standing with the man I assume is going to be my HUSBAND on the pier for him to tell me he’s going to flex on his ex and become a god . Cringe ! But nothing I can’t deal with, I’ll just ask him nicely not to like I did on our boat date where I told him I loved him for the man he is not the wizard he could be, nice and simple

So I beg this man

To stay

with me

And he leaves.

Doesn’t contact me for 6 months

And shows up witherses party to say “oh we’re broken up by the way”

She is … beyond heartbroken

But also

The songwriting potential

So I’m making a playlist of the songs I think my girl wrote during ;

1. The adventure / lover era of the galemance

2. The 6 months of heartbreak era

3. The post withers party era (she’s mad now)

And am looking for suggestions

So far Ive got

1. Enchanted , Paper Rings , Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

2. The 1 , all you had to do was stay , Haunted , LAST KISS , BETTER MAN

3.Mr Perfectly fine , I bet you think about me , is it over now

She’ll preform a mix of all on her inter dimensional eras tour

Is there Swifty/ Baldurs Gate fandom overlap ?

(She’s adopting and loving Tara btw they’re best friends)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #taylor swift #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #dnd bard #swifties #the eras tour #tara the tressym #astarion #baldur's gate iii #mystra when I catch you mystra

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lesbiandarvey · 7 months

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were on day 4 of being bored home sick so im gonna start darveyposting. also theres a blizzard warning but it was 65 degrees and sunny yesterday?? i mean its like, a little bit cloudy today but ?? anyway my donnaharvey playlist right now is. okay theyre all taylor swift songs

style - “you got that james dean daydream look in your eye and i got that red lip classic thing you like” i mean self explanatory. altho i keep waiting for her to wear red lipstick to make a gifset or something but they always put her in like peach or pink shades lmao. they have to go to a party or something

i cant tell you how much i want a donnaharvey clubbing scene. let them get slutty!!!

ivy cus i think harvey’s pain fits in donnas freezing hand. plus im obsessed with the idea of harvey cheating on mike with donna it would be super fucked up. shes there drinking his husbands wine

high infidelity again obsessed with harvey cheated on mike with donna. i really do think if mike and harvey ever got together they would get divorced or it wouldn’t work out. i think mikes picket fence is sharp as knives for harvey and donna brings him back to life

oh in the time ive been typing this it started raining btw

begin again thee donnaharvey song. after everything with mike breaking and burning and ending, he sees donna in the metaphorical cafe. and its always been her… . someday im gonna make a begin again amv where it’s about the people harvey loves mike scottie etc ending and going to donna .. and i was thinking how cool it would be to go like backwards in time like the first chorus “on a wednesday in a cafe” its their first official date in s9 ive seen the gifs and then the last chorus of “on a wednesday in a cafe” like they meet in the bar

#amanda.doc #sorry for saying mike and harvey get divorced . it will happen again tbh

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streamafterlaughter · 2 years

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Fundamental Differing

Chapter IX: In The Morning You’ll Be Gone

masterlist | playlist | chapter viii

summary: Friends is a heavy word for you and eddie. things are off to a weird start as you spend some time reconnecting after your show in vegas.

tags/warnings: slow burn, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, gn!reader, angst is slightly lighter this time, but obviously still there!! these two are horrible at feelings btw if that wasn’t obvious.

a/n: let me know what you think! i have a loooot of ideas swimming around right now, but i wanna hear ur input! love u guys sm, thank u for reading! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

September 1987

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie kicks the door to your shared apartment open, the old wood creaking under his heavy boots.

The ruckus summons you to the entryway. You speed walk from your master bedroom, where you’ve been spending your nights without your boyfriend. The house already feels warmer with him inside. “Hi, baby!” You squeal, running into his arms. He lifts you into the air, spinning you around like a husband home from war.

When he places you back in front of him, you refuse to let go. You lock your hands around his neck, and pull his face into yours to connect your lips. He relaxes against your touch, finally settling the yearning in his stomach. It’s been two long months of Eddie on tour, and you had refused to come because you didn’t want to be his “groupie.” You still haven’t told him how stupid that decision was. Regardless, it doesn’t matter now. He’s home, and he’s in your arms, exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“How are you, love of mine?”

“Never better, now that you’re home.”

—

Eddie’s POV

It’s probably the best he's ever performed, much to his own surprise. He's played Las Vegas before, but something about his own energy has brought the best out of the crowd. By the end of the set, Eddie’s shirtless, drenched in sweat, and practically deaf, but the excitement roaring through him makes it all worth it. He’d caught you watching too, standing on the side of the stage right up against the barricade like you’d used to when you were dating. He couldn’t help stealing glances throughout the show, catching you singing and dancing along like you were still his biggest fan.

Back in the band’s dressing room, Corroded Coffin light cigarettes and joints while beer bottles are cracked open, an atmosphere of relaxation settling in after what feels like years of being on edge. Much of that probably has to do with their frontman being in a good mood. Eddie sips his beer as he chats with Gareth, who’s puffing on a joint dangerously close to frying his hair.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, huh?” Gareth jokes, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his own. “You finally get laid or something?” Eddie snorts in response, ignoring the question. “C’mon, you gotta let me know what’s got you performing like that again. I haven’t seen you this in-the-zone since— “ Gareth stops himself, but Eddie knows where he’s going. He hasn’t performed like that since you broke up with him. Gareth doesn’t push him, but his eyes communicate his question.

“We aren’t back together, don’t freak out like that.” Eddie answers the unspoken inquiry, indulging his friend. “But we talked. Amicably, even. We decided we’re gonna try the whole friend thing. For real, this time.”

“And you’re okay with that? Just being friends?” Gareth’s concern is written on his face, and for good reason. You and Eddie tried being friends after breaking up, but it was always falling apart, probably due to not giving yourselves time to heal.

Eddie nods. “I am. It’s bound to be better than not having them in my life at all. I know it’s gonna be difficult, but I’m selfish. I don’t wanna be without them again.”

Gareth nods, taking another swig of his beer. “Good luck, man. Seriously. They were so good for you, I just hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

He has, he’s almost sure of it. If given the chance, Eddie’s gonna show you just how grateful he is for you, just how much he cherishes you. He fucked up, badly, when you were together, but now that he knows what life without you is like, he’s sure he never wants to experience it again.

He's pulled from his thoughts when the dressing room door opens, and you enter with Steve and your band, dressed down from your set. You’re wearing sweatpants and, what Eddie is almost sure, is his old Metallica t-shirt. It’s faded, worn beyond recognition even when he had possession of it, but you still look incredible. Your hair is piled on top of your head, with little stray pieces hanging in front of your face. You catch him looking at you, and give him the smallest of smiles. He returns it with a gleaming grin, one that makes his cheeks ache, but he doesn’t care. You’re here, willingly, in his dressing room, hanging out with him and his band. Almost like nothing has changed in the last two years, even though you’re on your way to being one of the biggest bands in the world. Bigger than CC, even.

You shuffle further into the crowded room while Steve corrals the stragglers standing out in the hall. He’s about to give another rousing Manager Speech, so Eddie kicks his feet up on the small table in front of the couch as you place yourself on the arm closest to him. Your bandmates make themselves comfortable, and he dares to look at Robin, who lets a smile slip from her lips, and it’s like the weight of the world lifts from his shoulders. You must have filled her in by now. Maybe he has a chance to get all of his friends back.

Steve finally approaches the rest of you, standing in the middle of the room while the excitement dies down. “Alright!” He claps his hands together, summoning everyone’s attention finally. “We’re hitting the road for Oregon shortly, I need everyone back on their bus by 2AM. You guys were incredible tonight, I’m so proud of all of you.” Steve looks to Eddie, then you as he says this, his praise directly targeted at his front people. “Til then, do as you please, and call me if things get out of hand. Thank you!” The room erupts in chatter as Steve approaches the couch, followed closely by Robin. “I would love an explanation for this, by the way.” Steve wags his finger between you two, still sitting close enough to touch, without actually touching. “Whenever you feel like telling me.” He looks to Eddie, who bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He almost breaks until he feels a hand on him. Your hand, gentle and warm, rests atop his bare shoulder, like the most casual thing in the world, and he can’t bring himself to move, worrying the moment would be broken.

“Don’t worry about us, Stevie. We’re being good.” Your voice is teasing, and clearly worn from your set. Eddie fights the urge to look up at you, knowing one glance will break his fragile composure. Your fingers tap against his clavicle, sticking to him slightly due to the sweat. He clears his throat as quietly as he can, trying his best not to let your touch send him into a spiral.

Steve shrugs. “Alright! Be back by two, please.” With that, Steve leaves the dressing room.

—

Your POV

By now the room is empty, save for you, Eddie, and Robin. You desperately hope they can’t see through your confident facade. Inside, you’re shaking, having felt Eddie’s skin on yours for the second time today. Everything is confusing, you have no idea where the two of you are headed. It feels new and exciting now, getting Eddie back, but it also feels fragile. One wrong move will send you back to square one, and you’re not willing to start over again.

It’s Robin who breaks the silence first. “So, we goin’ out tonight? Or do you two forget how to party together?”

You squint your eyes at her joke, and turn to finally look at Eddie. “You wanna party?” You hope desperately that this isn’t the worst idea ever.

Eddie nods, beaming. You get off the arm of the couch, stumbling less than gracefully to your feet. “Awesome. I’m gonna go change, meet us in the back in like, twenty minutes!” You and Robin scurry out of the dressing room, giggling to yourselves.

“So,” Robin starts as you rush to your dressing room, where Sylvie and Lilith sit chatting on the couch, the small TV providing background noise. “You gonna tell Steve about you and Ed?” Her question silences the rest of the band.

“You better tell us first!” Sylvie shrieks, getting to their feet. “What the hell was all that, even?”

Lilith joins them, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you two were almost being friendly in there.”

You lift your, well Eddie’s, t-shirt over your head, swapping it for a tighter, smaller black one, and change out of your sweats and into some light wash, baggy jeans. “There’s nothing to explain, really.” You turn to face your friends. “We talked about what he said. He apologized, and we’re trying the friend thing.” Lilith rolls her eyes, and Sylvie shakes their head. “What?” you ask, exasperated.

Robin speaks for them. “We just know how that’s gonna go, babes. One of you is gonna… I dunno, slip up? Like last time?” When you don’t offer her an answer, Robin continues, pouring both of you a pre game drink. “You guys just aren’t meant to be friends. You’d tear each other apart before you could get to genuine, platonic friendship. You’re not, well, Steve and I.” The last bit is meant as a joke, you know, but it stings a little. You hope they’re not right, that you can be friends with Eddie without destroying you both.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.” You shrug, and yank your boots on. “For now, I just wanna drink.” You take your vodka soda from Robin and throw it down your throat, as if to emphasize your desperation.

—

You, Robin, Eddie, and Steve pile into the back of a cab, all of you already tipsy. Steve’s decided to chaperone, and you can’t really argue considering the circumstances. He sits between you and Eddie, a knee against one of each of yours. The four of you are in casual attire, on your way to a club on the Strip you’ve never heard of. It feels like high school, almost, minus the whole “being in a band touring with a household name” thing. It feels comfortable, sitting between Steve and Robin, with Eddie on Steve’s other side, on your way to get drinks and finally just hang out. No drama, no worries, no screaming fans. A break.

When the car pulls up, Robin climbs out and holds the door for the rest of you. You link your arm through hers, and she links her other arm with Steve. You look at Eddie, standing next to you with his arms firmly at his sides, and offer your free arm. His lips split into a smile, and he links his arm with yours, causing your heart to surge. Friends.

There’s some truth to Robin’s words. You know you’ll probably love Eddie forever, way more than you just would a friend, but you can’t force yourself back into that relationship. You don’t know what your feelings for him are anymore, you just know you have them. And having them is dangerous, especially now that you’re both terribly successful and there’s no way you two could ever work it out.

—

Eddie’s POV

All he’s aware of is your shoulder against his as the four of you squeeze through the dark nightclub. The music is deafening, Jump Around by House of Pain shaking the whole building. He wants a drink. Really, he wants to leave, and go watch a bad movie on the bus, or reread The Hobbit for the fifth time this year. But those things don’t have you in a really tight t-shirt, so instead he’s waddling uncomfortably between sweaty bodies, following closely behind you as you make your way to the bar.

“What’re you having?” He reads your lips more than hears you, squinting to make out what you’re saying in the dark room.

“I’ll take a beer, whatever they have.” Eddie feels his voice rasp as he shouts over the music, but you nod like you’ve heard him anyway. He watches as you order, leaning on the bar so the tender; a good looking dude with salt and pepper hair, a good body, and tight fitting clothes, can hear you over the ruckus. You flirt with your posture, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as you lean in to speak to him. He nods, winking at you before walking away to retrieve your drinks. Eddie can't help the burning in his chest as he watches the interaction, fighting every urge to jump over the counter and beat the guy senseless. Not that he’d be able to, the dude is jacked.

It takes almost no time for you to turn around, coming face to face with Eddie, your nose far too close to his chest. “Here,” you hand him his bottle, and he reads the label.

“They had Red Stripe?” Still his favorite, and only ever found in the crevices of the dingiest liquor stores.

You shrug. “Vegas has everything! C’mon, let’s go find the others.” You take his hand, and Eddie looks at it, a fraction of a second too long before taking it.Despite his hesitation, holding your hand still feels right.

The two of you finally find Robin and Steve, drunkenly grooving on the dance floor, both with a drink in hand. Eddie scoffs at their shamelessness, and looks at you. He’s on edge, unsure of what your next suggestion will be.

“You wanna dance?” Is the last thing he’s expecting.

—

Your POV

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, but it doesn’t deter you from slapping a hand over your mouth.

Eddie’s head whips in your direction, like you’ve startled him. “What?” This is your chance, your way out. Say something else, say anything else. “Do you wanna dance?” Shit! You watch as a smile threatens his tight lipped expression, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards despite his hold on them.

“Sure.” Sure?! Guess we’re doing this! You realize neither of you have let go of the other’s hand. You look from your clasped fingers, to his face, and back again before exhaling, and dragging your ex boyfriend to the dance floor. Robin and Steve see you and wave you over. The walk to them is dreadfully long, your hand sticking to Eddie’s with your sweat. Gross.

“Look who decided to join us!” Steve slurs as he twirls Robin under his arm.

“Steve, I thought you were chaperoning?” You tease, rolling your eyes as you feel Eddie’s fingers let go of yours. Your hand feels cold again.

“Chaperones can have fun too, y’know!” He pokes your arm jokingly, like he’s trying to tip you over. “And if chaperones can’t have fun, so can the, uh,”

“Chaperonees!” Robin interrupts, helpfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Chaperonees! Now, would ya not look so miserable? You know I worry!” Steve drapes an arm around your shoulder as you laugh, enjoying his mood.

“I am having fun!” You exclaim, taking another gulp of your cocktail.

Eddie sips his beer, as if in solidarity. “C’mon, let these two dorks compete to see who can be the worst dancer here.” He takes your hand in his again, this time without the weird tiptoeing around it, and you turn to face him. The song has changed to Def Leppard’s Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad, drastically changing the vibe. Robin and Steve continue to spin and jive aimlessly, but they blur in comparison to Eddie, standing right in front of you.

The drinks flowing through you do their job, lowering your inhibitions and giving you courage. You gently rest your arms around Eddie’s neck, and feel him tense at your touch before fully relaxing. His hands are still by his sides though, so you look from his eyes, to where they hang uselessly. “You’re not gonna melt, y’know.” You joke, but Eddie doesn’t laugh.

“Honestly, I might.” The words shoot through you, and you can feel your cheeks blush. It seems to rouse him from his anxiety, though, as he slowly lifts his arms to rest a hand on either side of your waist. Maybe he won’t melt, but you’re almost sure you will.

—

Eddie’s POV

There is no way he’s surviving tonight. He is one hundred percent certain you will be his cause of death, and that it will be painful, unbearable even. He lets himself look into your eyes, just for a second. They shine as you look back into his, narrowing the way they do when you smile. Eddie hasn’t received a smile from you like that in what feels like a lifetime.

As he’s losing himself in the way your hands rest around him, clasped together at the nape of his neck, he’s brought back down to earth. A bright, sudden light comes from behind him, illuminating your features for a split second. Your eyes widen, and your arms fall back to your sides.

“Eddie! Y/n! Over here!” Eddie whips his head around in time to catch a second flash, temporarily blinding him. He recognizes the culprit, a local paparazzo hell bent on torturing the members of the metal scene.

“Gale,” Eddie tries to remain calm, his heart rate skyrocketing as worst case scenarios flip through his head. “You can’t sell that.”

“I can do whatever I please, Munson!” Gale is slimy, never once giving his subjects a break. Because “he has to eat too.”

Your voice startles Eddie as you speak. “What do you plan on doing with that?”

Gale shrugs, “Sell it, make a quick buck. If I’m lucky, they’ll use it when they speculate on your love life.” He chuckles to himself, waggling his eyebrows. Before anyone can stop him, Gale lifts the camera a third time. “Smile big!” Flash.

Regardless of how badly Eddie wants to rip that camera out of his hands and throw it across the club, he doesn’t. That look doesn’t suit him, especially in front of you, and he’s not in the mood to catch a charge. Instead he pivots back to you. “What do you wanna do about this?”

You don’t seem bothered, in fact you’re uncharacteristically calm about the situation. “Whatever you want, it doesn’t bother me that much. There are worse rumors that could spread. Plus, you and I know the truth, right?”

Eddie only blinks, hoping his thoughts will catch up with his mouth. “Are you sure? Because I can call a guy. Get that picture wiped off the face of the earth.”

“If you want. Don’t stress on my account, though.” You go so far as to replace your hands around him, and Eddie’s breath catches, holding it for a millisecond too long. “It isn’t the end of the world.”

Eddie gingerly places his hands back on your waist, but neither of you dance as the song is replaced with Metallica’s Don’t Tread On Me. His brain is sprinting, trying to catch up with what’s happening.

“You’re not embarrassed?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I mean, not by you, but-“ He stops himself. But what? You’re waiting for him to continue, staring at him unblinkingly. “I asked you first.”

You look at your feet, concentrating on the ground between you two. Eddie’s heart sinks, of course you’re embarrassed. There’s a reason you’re not together anymore. “I mean, this is what fame is, right? Rumors being spread about you? Untrue things being said? It’s not really any different than high school.” You laugh sadly, still not meeting his gaze.

“That doesn’t mean you have to like it.” Eddie lowers his voice, leaning to speak into your ear. He thinks he catches you stiffen, startled by his sudden closeness.

Finally, you shake your head. “I’m not. You don’t embarrass me, Eddie. Not lately, anyway.” This time your chuckle sounds more like you, and Eddie lets one slip through his own teeth.

“Alright. I’ll leave it, then.”

“So you’re not-“

“No, I’m not fuckin’ embarrassed. I'd tell everyone that rumor if I could.” He catches himself by surprise with his answer, but he doesn’t backpedal.

You look at him, finally. “What?”

Eddie shrugs. “Worse things have been said than that I’m dating my cowork— I mean, my friend.” He shows his teeth despite his nerves, trying to reassure you that this won’t be a big deal. “Even if that does happen, by the way, no one’s gonna believe it. You’re too good for that.”

—

Your POV

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re quickly interrupted. “We need to go. Now.” Steve and Robin are stumbling all over each other as they approach you, their fingers interlaced as if holding onto dumb or dumber will somehow save them from tripping.

“What? Why?” Your voice breaks with panic, whether from this current event or the one shortly before, you’re not sure.

“We kind of uh, knocked an entire tray of booze over while we were dancing.” Robin can’t get her sentence out without giggling hysterically.

“Turns out some big wig is here, and he’s pissed.” Steve adds, snickering between shallow breaths. “Guy’s a douche anyway, but he wants us gone. Security’s lookin�� for us.”

“For once, I'm not the one to get us kicked out!” Eddie cheers, and grabs your hand. “Let’s go!” The four of you haul ass through the club. You don’t know how drastic the measures are, but your heart still races. The night air hits you as the club door swings open, your ride already idling against the curb. The four of you pile in, borderline maniacal laughter erupting from each of you.

“You fucking assholes!” You shriek, but your tone remains playful. “I was having a good time!”

Eddie looks to you then, and you share a quiet acknowledgement with him. You aren’t lying, you were having fun. By the looks of if, he was too.

“Well, we’re sorry. We have three whole months of fun ahead of us. I’m sure you’ll make up for this time.” Steve lets his head fall onto your shoulder, and You pat his cheek with your free hand. The other still hangs onto Eddie’s, his thumb stroking the top of it idly.

“I forgive you, Stevie.”

—

Eddie’s POV

It takes less than 24 hours for the story to break. He’s on the bus, half asleep as his bandmates circle his tiny bed the best they can. “What the hell?” He sits up, rubbing his eyes as the men before him come into focus. “What’s going on?”

“You tell us, player.” Jeff tosses something onto Eddie’s stomach, and it lands with a slap against his bare skin. He grabs it, and investigates the cover of what looks like a knock off National Inquirer. The headline reads, in big obnoxious font, MUNSON’S NEW BOO? Underneath the text is the picture from last night. His back is to the photographer, but you can still tell it’s him. He’s wearing a denim vest and black jeans, his hair sticking up like it tends to do. Over his shoulder, he can make out your features. Your sparkly eyes, freckled cheeks, and pouty lips. You’re looking at him like you love him, your hands around his neck, his resting on your hips.

“This is not what it looks like.” His voice doesn’t waver. Eddie thinks about what you said. You’re not embarrassed by him, so why would he be embarrassed by you?

Gareth shrugs. “It’s okay if it is, y’know. As long as you’re gonna do it right this time.” Jeff nods in agreement.

“Nothing is going on! We’re friends!”

“Right, right. Because that totally just looks like two friends.”

Eddie looks at the picture again. It’s a good picture of you, and he selfishly wants to tear it out of the magazine and stuff it into his wallet. He wants to keep it close to him. Gareth is right, but that doesn’t change the facts. Friends are all you are.

“Does Y/N know?” Jeff interrupts Eddie’s train of thought.

“I mean, I just found out.”

“Yes, but you sleep like the dead. We’ve been in Portland for three hours.”

“They know the picture was taken. I’m sure they’re expecting this.”

“Alright, man. Now get your ass up, soundcheck in an hour.”

—

Your POV

You read the words over and over again, begging them to make sense. “Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin, spotted snuggling up to Death Dance Approximately vocalist Y/n L/n. The two are currently on a cross country tour together, playing clubs and amphitheaters in North America.”

“What are you gonna do?” Lilith sticks another home fry in her mouth, keeping her eyes on you.

You shrug, tossing the magazine back onto the table. “Nothing I can really do about it now, I'm not too concerned.”

“They’re not concerned because they wish it was true!” Robin interjects, sliding into the booth next to you, a fresh coffee in her hands.

“Excuse you?”

“Please, since the day I met you, Eddie Munson has been the only guy for you. Ever. Don’t tell me that’s changed now.” You don’t look at her, and that gives her your answer. “So, we leave it, and we make sure it’s a prophecy we can fulfill!” She slurps a sip of her drink, and you scoff.

“We just got to friends. Give it a rest!”

“Okay!” Robin throws up her hands. “But I’m calling it now, you’ll be in his pants before we hit the east coast.”

You roll your eyes, and turn back to your breakfast. “Whatever.”

—

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