#mark angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rrxnjun · 9 months

Text

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

1K notes · View notes

ronjunnie · 5 days

Text

MARK FIC RECOMMENDATIONS

SERIES

arcane

case oasis

ONESHOTS

launch (25k)

Perils Brewing (m) (16.9k)

mark lee's gluttony (13.5k)

the hopeless romantic (12.8k)

seasons (7.9k)

back to sleep (730)

TIMESTAMPS

20:20 pm

148 notes · View notes

neochan · 1 month

Text

( 2:46 PM ) mark lee hates mondays.

he hates that its a brand new day. a new week. probably a new month. but the same old year. the same monotonous routine that came with mondays.

wake up. go to class. eat lunch. more class. go home. do homework. sleep.

theres nothing new about mondays.

so he hates them.

mark lee hates tuesdays.

theres nothing special about this day either. but each second reminds him of you. of sitting next to each other in the lecture that he didn't find so boring. because you were there.

now you're not. so he hates them.

mark lee especially hates wednesdays.

but doesn't everyone? its the middle of the week. no events. no drinking. probably a test. or quiz. or writing assignment. definitely homework he forgot to turn in on monday.

so he hates them.

mark lee despises thursdays.

who decided that the school week needed to be this long. same classes as tuesday. without you. without anyone. and it tears him to pieces. how is he supposed to sit through hour long lectures by himself and stay content?

he can't. so he despises thursdays.

on fridays, mark lee wishes he could disappear.

the day is nothing short of long, tortuous, and disappointing.

you left him on a friday. therefore he can never find the day exciting again. the hours are spent procrastinating school work he missed during the week. thinking of all the ways he could have been better. done better. loved you better. love you more.

what could he have done. what? what?

he hates fridays.

mark lee is fond of saturdays.

no school. no work. nothing but him and the bottle of alcohol he kept locked away in the bottom drawer of his dresser. hours spent drinking and crying and ranting to hyuck. hours spent missing you. hours spent numbing the emotions that drowned him on every other day of the week.

at least he wouldn't remember in the morning.

so he's okay with saturdays.

sundays are meant for nursing saturdays hangover.

he lays in bed. orders take out. and regrets all decisions made on saturday. especially when the decision leads him into someone elses bed. not yours. just someone elses.

and then maybe he can play catch up with his late assignments. probably not.

mark lee doesn't care for sundays.

he doesn't really care for any day of the week. they all remind him of you.

#mark x reader #nct dream #nct mark angst #mark lee x reader #nct dream x reader #mark lee angst #mark angst #nct dream angst

204 notes · View notes

prodbymaui · 1 year

Text

UNSAID | LMH

'cause I can't make you stay if you wanna go.

You wrapped your arms around Mark's neck, holding on as he pounded at you in a strength you cannot handle. Head thrashing everywhere, your screams of pleasure bouncing across the four corners of his room.

''Oh God!'' You gasped when you felt him sped up, hands made their way down to Mark's back. Your fingers dug on his back before you can even stop it, scratching the pale skin as red marks showed up. Mark groaned, feeling himself getting closer with the help of the stinging pain on his back.

He bit his lips as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, sticking out his tongue to lick it and planted more marks just like what you did to him. Mark settled one of his hands on the side of your head while the other went to you thigh, lifting it up and putting it close to your chest.

You felt crying from extreme bliss. And cry you did, tears fell down your cheeks as your voice lessened to pathetic whines. ''Mark, mark, mark..'' You chanted his name like a mantra, tongue lolling out as your eyes crossed.

''Fuck, that's so hot,'' Mark cursed under his breath as he watched your fucked out expression, fucking you harder to the mattress when he felt your pussy clamped on his dick just the way he liked it. Soon enough, Mark followed to the path of euphoria, throwing back his head as his hips feverishly thrust inside you. He bit his lips to prevent saying the words that he desired to spit out.

It took both of you a few minutes and a couple of catching of breaths before getting back to your sanity. Mark laid down beside you, recollecting himself. Just as he felt himself calm down, the mattress became lighter and your figure started collecting your clothes.

Mark sat up, not wanting to let you go. ''You should stay the night, you know? It's just- you know- it's midnight and it's dangerous outside,'' He scrambled to find words, not wanting to make it obvious how much he loved your presence.

You only laughed at him, ''Mine is literally a house away from you, Mark,'' You started to wear your previous clothes again, fixing your hair until it's in a state where the activity weren't evident.

''Just--'' Mark stood up from the bed. ''Stay the night, baby,'' Baby? He cursed himself at that. He never called you baby outside of bed so now you're probably thinking he's some kind of weirdo who has attachment issues.

You chuckled, ''Since when did you want me to stay the night?''

''Since I realized I liked you,'' Oh fuck, he shouldn't have said that. But if he took it back now, it'll look like he's playing with you. But he doesn't want you to know that he caught feelings, it was a boundary that you both agreed not to cross.

''You're so pussy drunk,'' You shook your head before bidding him goodbye, leaving him in his lonely and cold apartment again.

Mark fucked up, he really did.

What he didn't know was on the way back, you were thinking about how to apologize to Mark because of the way you responded to him. You also wanted to talk about your feelings, about how you've also fallen for him.

#mark lee #mark lee smut #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct smut #mark scenarios #mark fluff #nct scenarios #nct angst #mark angst #nct drabbles #nct fanfic #prodbymaui

984 notes · View notes

ooshu · 1 year

Text

when mark was six, he told you he loved you.

you never really grasped what ‘love’ meant during those early, innocent times. your parents say they love you whenever you bid goodbyes going to school. your grandma used to tell you she loves you because you’ve been a good kid. so you told him “i love you, too!” with a grin plastered on your face, and mark felt his face go warm, a slightly pink flush on both of his cheeks.

when mark was eight, he said he wanted to be a writer.

he fully pledged it in his middle school yearbook a year before. an author, he wrote. you challenged him a bit. “write something for me then!”. young mark, full of determination, handed you a piece of paper at the end of the class. Roses are reds, Violets are Blue, …… I guess …… I love you ! - it was unfinished. cue the excessive punctuation marks and misplaced capitalization of letters, too. it was valentine’s day. and when the whole class knew mark loved you, he never got away with the teasing. you still had no idea what it meant, though.

when mark was twelve, “i’m gonna be famous!”, he shouted to the whole world.

you saw him pick up the guitar that he borrowed from his dad. he flicked a few strings. “congratulations, mark!”, you said. “thanks.”, replied. “what’s wrong?”, you saw how his smile slowly turned into a bit of a frown. “i’m going away,” he said. you patted him on the shoulder, “my mom said we’re all meant to, mark.”. oh, you thought, how early was it for you both to know the concept of separation. how unfortunate it is, sometimes, to be needing to grow up early.

when mark was sixteen, he took a good glance of a glimpse of his future.

flashing lights, cheering crowds, fans following him around—the fame he has worked for four years—the dog days, the sacrifices, the longing for familiarity in a city of uncertainties and foreign—are finally going to pay off. his cheeks hurt from smiling. he was more focused than ever, like a hungry animal preying for success. “i always knew you were made for somewhere else”, you thought while seeing the news around home that mark is on his way to making his name.

but as years passed by like a blink of an eye, mark finally had the chance to rest, to go somewhere. but he didn’t know where else to go. from living in toronto, to vancouver, to some few years somewhere in queens, and now, in unfamiliar cities he wake up to, he never had the chance to sit still and think of this: he never knew what home felt like.

when mark was nineteen, he made his way to his old house.

relatives greeted him. old smiles and familiar warmth overwhelmed mark. oh, how lovely it is to grasp a sense of familiarity. trains and 156 buses, his smile beamed when he reminisced middle school. “remember when…”, it was all his tongue could say. laughter filled the dining area where he and his siblings often had their silly whip cream-face-smearing fight, but his joy slightly faltered when he passed by an abandoned house, just five blocks away from his house. an abandoned, almost small-framed bicycle sits on the front porch. it was the bicycle you would ride whenever mark knocks at your very doorstep to go to the nearest town and buy potato chips.

he remembers when he was thirteen and packing for his flight the next day, he asked you: “do you think we’d forget each other?”

“i think you would.”, you replied.

“i would never.” mark reassured you, but you’ve heard stories of your mom and how her college best friend suddenly fell apart. nothing in particular, it’s just life and how we go separate ways—it’s inevitable. people say i love yous to their loved ones, reassuring them the warmth and proximity will stay, but as the sun rises, for mark, there will be great emptiness as he is forced to remove himself and start anew.

“why do you think so?”

“because i love you.”

and for you, love has changed its definition instantly. it was a time when a great consciousness arise. you understood how he truly meant all these years. you said it back as you also meant every single syllable. love, for mark, was meant to be fireworks and giggles. but by the time he boarded the plane, you kissed his cheek, his first love started and ended on the very same day.

now, mark, twenty-three, almost has it all.

he has been writing for years. he isn’t still an author, as he has told you, but sure what he writes comes along with the melodies he produces with his co-artists. he has been contented with his lifestyle, going to different countries, and working with unpredictable schedules. sure, he has established a name in the industry, working like a mad dog, but something still bothers him inside, something missing, lacking.

tonight, he writes in a local coffee shop as he waits for his manager to arrive, a practice that keeps his feet on the ground. scribbles, blurbs, drafts of lyrics, all embedded in his journal—and after a while of connecting the dots to construct who he really is and where he would position himself in the vast ocean of possibilities, he may have finally struck something that hits closer to his definition of home.

i just wanted you to know, mark writes to you, who have always been his muse through and through, to tell you that i have been happy during our years together, that i have never been so happy despite what i have gone through and achieved, and that i already know i will never be so happy again.

and as mark closes his messy, worn-out black journal, the bells rang as someone entered the door.

mark watches you walk in and towards the counter. he would have so many questions as to why you are here and when you have arrived. but reserve it for later because as you find a table you could sit in, you locked your eyes with his—so familiar, so distinct, so… inviting. almost home.

lost for words, mark stared at you. blinking like a fool. he must be dreaming.

but the doubts of the fantasy dissipated.

“hey, stranger.”, you said. “do you think we still know each other?”

a smile so warm, so loving, proximity that is so close—these are things he has lost over the years, now sitting in front of him, embodied by the epitome of his long lost love.

and mark always firmly believed in this, and today, he was never betrayed by his beloved: fate.

home, all along—he thought, is wherever i’m with you.

797 notes · View notes

127angelica · 9 months

Text

𝐋 . 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 — ❝ love to some point. ❞

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | an unexpected and untimely meeting with you, his ex-lover, on his birthday.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,781 words

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | happy birthday to the best mark to exist. a short and bittersweet happy birthday fic for him, because i love bittersweet.

Mark had broke up with you a little over three months ago, which was why he wanted to slap himself when he called out to you. He recognized your familiar frame, and to his surprise you were staring at his birthday advertisement. And maybe it was out of habit:

“Hey,” Mark called out, and immediately regretted it because he had no idea what to do next.

You were smiling, happy to see that Mark was receiving love even despite ending yours. It wasn’t Mark’s fault it all ended. Everything good had one, and deep down you knew that you and him were never meant for forever. So it made no sense to hate him, you didn’t want to be the minority of the world anyway. You would continue to support him, silently in the background. He deserved that kind of thing even though he broke your heart.

Your smile faltered the slightest bit, recognizing that voice from anywhere. Honestly, you’re surprised he even said anything because this was public, out in the open for anyone to see. Mark wasn’t a bitter guy, but really who wanted to see their ex on their birthday?

“Hi,” You turned to smile at him and look back at the advertisement as he stood next to you with his hands tucked in his jean pockets.

You could tell he didn’t know what to say, he was awkward even. He stood tall, but awkwardly small like he didn’t want to take up anymore space that he already was. Compacting himself by tucking his arms in and tensing his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, happy and shocked to see you smiling at the sight of him.

He didn’t know that you would take the break up so well, but he supposed that he wouldn’t know what to do if you were crying or angry at him. He was glad to see you doing well. You looked healthy, and you seemed happy even.

“I just got off work,” You kept your eyes on the advertisement rather than the real thing right in front of you.

“Oh.”

Mark watched as you scanned every detail of the advertisement his fans paid for that he hadn’t even glanced at because you were there. Gorgeously and beautifully, standing there in front of it. He wished that he could read your mind, his heart racing because he just didn’t know what was happening. Why were you smiling at it, but not him? He was right there. You turned and he thought you must have felt his burning gaze at your temple.

“Happy birthday.”

“What?” Mark blurted and blinked.

“It’s your birthday,” You laughed, and turned to the advertisement.

“Oh, yeah,” He nodded, finally looking at it but not for long because he wanted to savor this moment of you still looking at his face though it wasn’t directly at him. “It is my birthday.”

You started to read the advertisement, but Mark zoned out onto your glowing face. The way you smiled as you talked was so captivating, and it was almost like you two were back together or something. You always talked like that around him and he assumed it would change once you two were no longer together. You reminded him too much of the past, and you didn’t seem any different from when you were his. He began to wonder if he was dreaming.

“How have you been?” Mark once again blurted.

“Good,” You nodded, finally looking at him long enough for him to feel more relieved. “You?”

“Okay,” He thought that was the best answer considering he had just gone through a breakup.

“You look good,” You pointed to the advertisement. “I saw you on stage too, the other day. You did great.”

“You saw?” Mark rubbed his chin and he finally started to shyly smile.

“Of course!” You said it like it was obvious. “You’re famous.”

The banter continued for a few more fleeting minutes and Mark wondered how you could act so normally. This wasn’t how exes acted, did they? He supposed that you two were never the type to hate each other after simply breaking up anyway.

“Are you okay?” Mark began to ask weird questions.

“Yeah, why?” You had a perplexed look on your face.

“I mean,” He felt that it was awkward to ask because you were being so friendly. “We broke up, and I just wanted to know if you’re okay. Like you’re not sad or anything.”

You laughed at that, reaching out to pat his arm. Mark was always that kind of person to worry about others, to make sure they were okay and lifting their spirits up if they were down. Even on his own birthday where he should be happy all day long without a care in the world. It was something you loved about Mark.

“It’s your birthday! Why would you worry about that?” Suddenly you felt bad for appearing even if you didn’t intend to be in the same place at the same time, so you put on a more serious face. “I’m sorry for appearing out of the blue like this. I really didn’t mean to bump into you, I just… I was happy to see you receiving birthday wishes and love from everyone around the world. I wanted to put my share in by seeing it and I don’t know… sending a telepathic message I guess.”

“No! It was good seeing you,” Mark reached for your hand to comfort you.

It surprised him as much as calling for you did, but you didn’t pull your hand away and that made him feel better about his habitual movements. He reached his other hand around to enclose your hand. His eyes were sincere and gleaming. You didn’t know what exactly to feel, knowing that you two had shared a great love, but it was also over and done with. Was it so strange to be seeing each other like this? Especially because it was your first time talking since the break up.

“I’m… glad that you decided to stop and look at these,” Mark laughed awkwardly, tugging your hand gently. “I’m really thankful for you. And glad you don’t hate me.”

“There’s nothing to hate,” You teased, turning back to the advertisement. “Things don’t always work out, we both know that. I’m just happy that we got to love and that it was you. You’re amazing, and I wouldn’t change anything that has happened between us. We’re making good decisions, so don’t be so doubtful.”

“Ah,” Mark sighed, and his shoulders finally sunk, now only using one hand to warmly hold yours. “You always know what to say, Y/n.”

At that you just laughed, and Mark laughed with you. You supposed that you did, but you only ever said what you wanted Mark to hear, your true genuine feelings.

“I’m sorry we had to break up,” He ruined the perfect silence, but it was something he had to say too. “I really loved you, and I always thought it would be us in the end.”

“Don’t be sorry,” You nodded, letting his hand go, and he knew you were leaving soon. “I loved you too. Still do actually, I’ll forever be a Mark Lee fan now that I know so much about you. It’s still us in the end, just not like how it used to be.”

It left a bittersweet taste in Mark’s mouth and now he felt like he would be missing you forever with the way you were talking. He let out a sigh and smiled nonetheless. He tucked his hands in his pockets to replace the warmth that your hands provided. It was summer, and nights were humid and hot, but still he would have liked to feel your warmth.

“Yeah, I know,” Mark nodded, watching your every move.

“Don’t be so sad, birthday boy,” You reached out to fix his fringe so you could see his eyes. “Eat cake, drink, and do whatever you want. I better get going.”

“Wait,” Mark was desperate to get something from you for the last time, not wanting to let you go just yet. “Can I—Can we kiss for the last time?”

He watched your eyes widen a bit and freeze for a second to let what he said sink in. His heart raced a bit, nervous to hear you speak and he wondered just how desperate he was to be in your company to ask for something like that. He was just a fool. He added, so you could think about it a little more, “For my birthday.”

Without saying anything, you smiled and chuckled at his request after thinking it over a little bit. For the last time, Mark was asking you for a kiss, and on his birthday, how could you say no?

You brought your hands to his cheeks, softly running the pads of your thumbs across his skin, feeling the texture and warmth radiate from him as he let a quiet breath out to sink into your touch. You wondered if he had been longing for this, if you would be fueling his frustration with the breakup, but you wanted to make him happy. Give him a final gift before you leave.

You leaned in close, tilting your head a little so your noses wouldn’t bump. Mark moved his hands to your waist, awaiting the sweet kiss that was planted on the plumpness of his lips. It was short and sweet, but Mark enjoyed it thoroughly. Slowing the moment down in his head to savor it. It was a feeling he knew all too well and missed. For the last time, he got to experience it and for a while, he would long for it, but over time he would learn to live without it. He would be just fine.

“Happy birthday, Mark,” You said once more as you pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Mark looked through his eyelashes at you, noting how close you two were before he removed his hands and yours retracted too. “Yeah, of course.”

With that, you turned on your heel and waved once more before heading out on your way home. Mark watched your figure fade into the distance as he got the feeling of your lips lingering on his. He pursed them, wondering if it would keep your kiss permanently on his lips.

“Thank you!” He yelled out, catching your attention.

“Of course,” You shouted back. “I love you!”

He smiled at the words, thinking it was perhaps a bittersweet birthday gift from you because that was as good as it gets with an ex.

506 notes · View notes

aikoionic · 6 months

Text

I WANNA GROW UP ONCE AGAIN [ L.MK ] : TEASER!

yes it’s based loosely (heavily) on 3 idiots 👽

★彡 In college, you and mark form a strange relationship. (you think) he hates you for competing with him for being the smartest in class, while you’re just trying to get a your degree so your parents don’t marry you off to another rich families son. Years later, an old bet gives you and his two friends a chance to look for your long-lost acquaintance, who’s existence is rather elusive.

engineering major!mark lee x engineering major!reader (fem)

★彡 academic rivals, where tf did mark go after college, readers gettin married, johnny stops a plane, haechan forgets his pants, yuta is annoying, mark is gone. reader is the college headmasters daughter sorry if it isn’t obviously lol

「September 5th, Present Day, Johnny. 」 - You attack my heart, you attack my heart!

“in any case of an emergency landing, there are marked exits on either side of the plane.”

it’s days like these that johnny is reminded of how much his job absolutely sucks. it wasn’t his phobia of planes or the fact that he is thousands of feet up in the air and anything could go wrong at any time, it was the fact that he couldn’t keep any friend/relationships going as he was expected in a new country or city every week. the only thing that’s funded is the plane ride, not his entertainment, and the book infront of his face is no longer a story but instead just a bunch of letters on a page.

he often daydreams about what his life could’ve been like, you know, if he stayed with engineering and didn’t follow his passion of photography. he often thinks about college and all the great memories, along with the bad ones, he often thinks about his old friends. he often thinks about mark. mark was a strange, but a once-in-a-lifetime kind of friend, he always talked about the future and how he would love to go fishing every weekend when everybody was well in their forties. johnny feels stupid for believing that mark was right, that everyone was gonna stay friends forever. he recalls the last time he saw him, graduation. everyone was ecstatic that it was finally over, all the exams, all the stress. exactly one week after he was on a video call with haechan, complaining that mark wasn’t answering his phone. it was another week after that the messages stopped going through, and it was another month before he gave up all hope of ever seeing mark lee again.

“we kindly ask that all passengers put phones and laptops on airplane mode for the duration of this flight to new york, we wish everyone happy trave-“ , johnny feels the vibration of his phone through his pocket and the deafening ringtone follows immediately after. he bought this phone three years ago and still doesn’t know how to turn down that damn ringtone. he smiles apologetically at his neighbouring passenger as they grumpily twist and turn to get comfy again after being awaken.

“hello?”

…

“yeah, this is johnny..”

…

his face drops.

“sir, can you please put the phone away.”

“yeah, yeah, one second, please.”

he looks around frantically, he needs to get off this plane, and it’s not because he’s scared. he hastily unbuckles his seatbelt, he needs to get off this plane. he stands up quickly and wobbles, it’s about to take off.

“sir, please sit down, you could get hurt!” the flight attendant yells at him to be heard over the horribly loud plane engine.

“i-i..” he grasps his chest, trembling as if he’s in pain. all the nearby passengers shoot worried looks at the airline staff.

“i don’t- i nee-“, the plane jolts aggressively and he stumble to the ground, grip still tight on his chest.

an attendant reaches up from her seat to grab the phone next to her.

“captain, there’s is a medical emergency on board, you must stop the plane.”

johnny is slumped over in a wheelchair as two members of staff and an on-hand doctor rush through the terminal to get him to the hospital, he looks dead, i mean he hasn’t replied to the staff screaming in his ear to wake up. johnny slowly opens up one of his eyes, his plan worked! he’s off the plane! but how the hell was he supposed to convince the staff he’s fine and is just gonna go look for a taxi to take him home. maybe if he tells them all he needs is some rest? REST? YOU JUST FAKED A HEART ATTACK AND YOU THINK THEY’RE GONNA BELIEVE ALL YOU NEED IS REST?? johnny stops scolding himself and gets to thinking of another plan.

“wait!” suddenly, he jumps up from the wheelchair and puts his hands out to stop them. he breathes deeply a couple times, does a few jumping jacks. what is he trying to prove with this whole performance?

“i’m completely fine now! thank you! you guys carry on, i’ll handle myself from here!”

“sir, wait a minute, you’ve just had a heart atta-“

he ran.

he ran all the way down two escalators, three sets of stairs and out the main entrance. what a shit plan. now he just needs to get home, wait.., he feels around his pockets, where the fuck is his wallet? is he supposed to walk home or something? maybe he should’ve just stayed on the damn plane.

he sees a sign held up by one of the drivers sent for important businessmen, or rich kids who study abroad and get their parents to send them a driver when they come on their annual trip back home, mr. zhong chenle.

“heyy man, long time no see! where’s the car at? i’m super tired!”

“uhh… mr. zhong? is that you?”

“yeah! why, do i look different or something?”

“a lot taller than i remember..”

“growth spurt. now, where’s the car?”

“straight home, sir?” the driver asks after approximately 7 minutes of uninterrupted silence.

“yeah, but go through the downtown first, wanna see it all again, ya know.”

“whatever you say, sir.” the driver sighs, he must’ve never looked at the kids face if he thinks johnny looks anything remotely like a college student anymore. johnny picks up his phone and dials a number he’s dialled about a thousand times.

incoming call, johnny, 12:08pm.

the noise of ruffling bed sheet and pillows fills the room, and a hand groggily slaps the desk to look for their phone without using their eyes.

call accepted

“yeah, johnny, what do you want.” he says while stretching. haechan doesn’t do much on his off days but sleep in until one and play video games. he knows that as soon as he leaves his room his mother is going to give him about fifteen things to do, so he decides to just lock himself up in his room for the weekend.

“get ready in five minutes, i’m coming to pick you up.”

“why, what happened.” there was nothing johnny could say to get him out of his bed.

“yuta called, remember him?”

“yeah, ‘the silencer’” he smirked, the dumb nickname still remembered by the pair even after all these years.

“yeah well, he said that..”

“what, he said what?”

“he said.. that mark’s coming.”

haechan shot up from his bed, making his head rush at the speed.

“WHAT?”

“yeah, he said come to the campus at 1, meet him on the roof.”

he looks at the time on his smartwatch. 12:46pm.

“oh shit..”

“bro, just get ready, fast.”

“yeah, yeah i will!”

he ran toward his bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face simultaneously. his sister watched him curiously, confused at why he’s up and out his room at 12.

“listen, i’ll be back soon, tell mom okay?, wait, shoes.” he hastily put his shoes on and wrestled a shirt over his head. “marks back!” he grinned at his sister but she just silently stared at him, biting back a smile.

“wait, but where are you going?”

“just tell mom i’m coming back, okay?”

“‘hyuck, wait!”

“can’t, johnnys here!”

“but you don’t have pants on! donghyuck!”

her shouts fell to deaf ears and haechan raced out the house, looking around for johnnys car. he waved down the car after he saw johnny through the window. the door swung open and haechan jumped in, not even giving it a chance to stop.

“now you want to go home, right, sir?” the driver asked johnny, while haechan was busy tying his laces and trying to contain his excitement.

“yeah but go via the imperial college of engineering.”

“well.. ok sir.”

“ugh, forgot my socks dude!”

“you forgot more that just your socks, hyuck.” he stifles his laughter and points down at haechans legs.

“oh my god..”

the car swerves around a sharp corner and through the gates of the courtyard to the ICE, imperial college of engineering. johnny looks out the window in awe of his old college, which was probably the prime of his life.

the car stops and the boys jump out of the car, johnny goes around to the drivers window.

“thanks so much, now you can go back to the airport and pick up my brother, same last name - zhong!” johnny runs after haechan as he makes his way to the roof entrance.

they sprint up the steps, johnny taking down two at a time, all so that they can see their long-lost friend. they have so much to ask him, where the hell did he go, why’d he stop talking. johnny wanted to slap him and hug him at the same time but haechan just wanted his friend back. they were very close in college, they even shared a dorm room. haechan knows mark didn’t want to cut off contact from them, he knows there was something stopping him.

they make it to the roof right on time, and see yuta standing there with his back to them, staring off into the distance and checking his watch.

“mark?!” johnny completely ignored yuta and instead starts running around the roof after seeing no sign of his friend.

“hey yuta! where’s mark?!” haechan yelled, his eyes looking all around the roof, trying to find him.

yuta smirked and slowly pulled out his phone, still not facing them, waiting for them to realise he isn’t there and come over.

“welcome, guys, long time no see, huh?.” he was dressed up nicely, in a suit with the top button undone, sporting expensive shoes and jewellery, his hair was slicked back, a big difference from the untidy thing he had on his head in college.

“want something to drink?, isn’t this the same beer you guys used to drink up on this roof, late at night?” he forces them to think back to their college days, when they sat upon the roof of the engineering building and drank up to early morning, running to make it to their classes on time, hungover as fuck. he tosses the beer bottle toward haechan and he catches it right before it hits him in the stomach.

“where’s mark.” johnny was getting frustrated now, he stopped his plane with a fake heart attack to be here right now, all for mark.

“patience please, first, i want you guys to look at this.” he holds his phone up close to their faces. a picture of yuta shaking hands with a realtor infront of a big house was on the screen.

“check out that mansion behind me. $3.5 million.” yuta smiled with his teeth while showing off to them both. “swimming pool? heated. living room? oak wood flooring. my new 6496 cc lambourgini.” he swipes through a whole array of pictures showcasing all his luxuries.

you see, mark’s only academic rival wasn’t you, there also was yuta. he was an absolute pain the ass, annoying as fuck but too smart and good-looking for his own good. you, mark and yuta were fighting all year to earn the valedictorian title. always trying to out-do each other with project and homework for a good recommendation from your teacher. of course mark ended up getting it, he was so charming to some of the teachers but so insufferable to others.

“why’re you showing us all this, where’s mark?” haechan interrupted yuta’s spiel about his achievements, demanding to know why he went through all this just for mark to not even be here.

“you don’t remember?” yuta pulls up the date on his phone, the 5th of September.

haechan looked closely at the phone, “yeah that’s todays date, and what?”

yuta smiled and the two then pushed through them, walking up to a part of the wall around the door of the entrance to the roof, that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years, covered in green stuff you could only hope was moss. yuta pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, kicks over a ladder covering part of the wall, and starts cleaning it.

haechan and johnny following closely behind him, curious to see what his explanation was for this.

there, carved onto the wall, was a date,

Sept 5th

“i bet you. ten years from now, we will meet here. same day, same place! and we will see who’s mor- who’s more successful” yuta slurred as he yelled sternly.

“d’you have the balls?! c’mon, tell me! tell me you’ll come back here!”

“remember now? i made a bet with that idiot right here. i kept my promise, i’m back.”

johnny threw the beer bottle at yuta’s feet and started marching towards him.

“I made my plane land, he forgot his pants, all to meet mark, we’ve searched for five years, we don’t know if he’s alive. but you think he’ll show up for your silly bet?”

“no i knew he wouldn’t.” yuta smiled. “he’s too scared.”

“am i gonna punch him or are you?” johnny turned to haechan then turned on his heel to grab yuta’s shirt. haechan stopped even though he really wanted someone to punch yuta.

“well then why’d you make us come here if it was just a bet between you two?” haechan asked.

“to meet mark.. and to see where i’ve reached and where he is.”

“wait, so you know where mark is?”

yuta slowly started nodding and smiled. “well, yeah.”

“w-where is he?”

“he lives up in the mountains now, probably works in some rich guys house or something.”

johnny and haechan turn to each other and smile, they’re gonna go find their friend.

“[name], are you ready to get the dress?!” your mother screams up the stairs even though you really aren’t that far away.

“yeah mom, just gimme a minute!” it’s been five years since you got your engineering degree. you got a good job, with good money, and a good life. but, something’s always been missing from your life, something that stops you from feeling like everything was worth it. you don’t like to think it, but it’s mark. mark was someone who you hated so much in your first year, you didn’t think you would make it to graduation. your past with mark lee is strange, to say the least. you never want to admit that you found yourself falling for him in your last year. he had you thinking your life was going to be amazing forever, that you would fill the gap that been empty this whole time.

yet, here you are, about to go pick up a dress for a wedding you really, really don’t want to be apart of.

your own.

you see, you thought that getting your degree and showing that you can take care of yourself would bypass the need to get you married off to another wealthy family like yourselves, clearly not as your father doesn’t have a son and needed someone to pass his college down to, it’s been passed down by his father and his father before that and his father bef- you get the point. but they thought the best idea was to get you married. it was supposed to be your sister, but she convinced your parents that they can try again with you after she found a man, an art student, to be precise, to marry instead of your family friends son, doyoung. the same doyoung who is going to be your husband in a few days.

you miss all of you friends and especially mark. maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely if you had kept messaging mark. a little bit after graduation, you and mark got into a fight, something about him not spending enough time with you. you can barely remember what it was about, so clearly it wasn’t important enough to be the reason your whole life changed. the last message he ever sent you was asking for forgiveness and saying something about how you should leave with him. he said he had something to tell you. but of course, you were stubborn and didn’t even check his messages until a week after and when you tried to reply, you found out he blocked you. you don’t remember his number anymore, even though about six years ago it was one you thought you could never forget.

you think of johnny and haechan. two of the funniest guys you knew. haechan was great to study with and always had a great supply of energy drinks in his bag for those all-nighters. johnny was great for advice and pep talks before big exams, if it wasn’t for him your sure you would’ve pissed yourself during your final.

but, we’re they ever really your friends? mark’s blocked you and nobody knows if he is alive or dead, and johnny and haechan slowly but surely fell out of your grasp, the less and less the phone calls and hangouts got, the more you wanted everything to go back to the way it was. when mark was here.

your phone dings, pulling you out of your trance. it’s your sister, texting you that she’s outside waiting to go dress shopping with you, wedding dress shopping.

your phone reads 2:23pm, September 5th.

a/n : yay this is gonna be really good i hope, also it’s my first kpop fic i’m sorry if it’s bad, the whole fic will be out soon but i don’t have a date. honestly if this flops i might not post it lol. also you will find out why they call him silencer later :)! if you wanna be on my tag list for when this drops just ask :)

BYE 😘

265 notes · View notes

jhdyuiee · 3 months

Text

Stars on my Scars

♢ pairing: Mark x Y/N ; forbidden love

♢ warnings/tags: smut!, angst, unprotected sex (pls pls pls stay protected), breakup sex (?!), kissing/making out, name calling (baby, good girl), oral (m & f receiving), cursing, multiple orgasams

♢ wc: 1.6k

♢ a.n: hello! happiest 127 day ya’ll!! it seems like mark became the popular choice so here it is yayie! i hope this ones a good one for u all && enjoy it as much as i did. its freaky-ness kekeke. good news though i currently have 4 drafts in my drafts (?) each of a different member, so pls look forward to those releases! school has been a pain in the ass lately so uploads may vary… anyways i hope u all have a lovely day! happy 127 my nctzen! i love u all, jiji out 🤍

The rain poured and poured; the rain fell and fell.

I looked up feeling as the droplets were falling onto me. The weather reflecting my life right now. I replayed the moments of a couple hours ago in my head.

-‘๑’-

“Hey mark?” I asked through the phone.

“Yeah, baby?” He replied.

“Can I go over to you? Or is it-“

“No, no yeah you can. Is something the matter?”

“Ah, well I just miss you,” I replied.

“I miss you too, baby. I’ll be waiting for you here then.”

I bid him goodbye and hung up the call. Today was the day. The day I’d leave him, at least try to. I love Mark with everything in me, but we can’t be together anymore. Our love is forbidden. It was never meant to last. Forever doesn’t exist for us.

I’d arrived in front of his door. I hesitated knocking, this would be the last time I’d come here. I knocked and heard a clicking sound, he’d unlocked the door.

“Hey baby don’t just stand there, come in,” he said, softly.

I walked into his apartment, soaking in everything one last time. The picture frames, art pieces, messy sofa, even the spiderman figure on his coffee table. I walked into his living room, Mark following right behind me.

I turned around facing him. He was a couple inches away from me, so I walked closer to him, centimeters away. I placed a hand on his cheek, caressing it. I wanted to cry, I could feel the tears threatening to spill down.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” he said in a concerned tone.

“I love you,” I said in a whisper. “I love you so much Mark, more than words can ever describe.”

He took both his hands, cupping my face gently. “I love you too baby, a lot more than you think I do.”

His words radiated such warmth, I didn’t wanna end this. Our story though was not a fairy tale.

I leaned in, my lips on his. Our kiss started off as something gentle filled with love, pure love. But then it deepened, filled with desire, desperation, lust.

We continued kissing until there was no oxygen for either of us. “You’re so beautiful Y/N,” Mark said, pecking my jaw. His kisses continued along my neck, jaw, and collarbones. In the meantime his hands worked on my shirt, trying to get that thing off of me. He pulled it over my head, his kisses continuing along the valley of my breast. “Jump,” he said, wrapping my legs around his waist. I could feel his erection against my clothed core.

He guided me to his bedroom, placing me on his bed gently. His hands working on my jeans. I was left in nothing but my underwear. “Take your clothes off too Mark.” He listened, his clothes slowly joining mine.

He came back to me with a kiss. It was filled with desire, I pretty darn sure my wetness was leaking through my underwear. His hands palmed my core causing me to moan into the kiss. His lips dragged along me going down and down.

“Already so wet from kissing?” he said, the nightlight illuminating the small smirk plastered across his face.

“Get up for me baby,” he said. I got up and waited for him to say more. “Take your bra off.” I obliged, tossing it somewhere in the room. His hands groped my breasts, the sensation sending electric shocks through me. I straddled his lap and his head came down to my breasts.

He stuck his tongue out, lapping it around my nipple. It felt so good as he flicked his tongue. My other breast was being pinched by his fingers until his mouth met that one as well. I moaned his name out over and over, “Mark, fuck.”

I felt as he bit my nipple, causing me to wince. I was practically riding him feeling his hard erection against my hot core. I was sure if I got up my wetness would be seen on his boxers.

“So needy baby,” said Mark against my breast. “Turn the other way for me.”

I did just as he said to, my back facing him. “Open your legs,” he whispered in my ear. I opened them a little wider, as his hand made it’s way towards my core, putting my underwear to the side.

“Fuck you’re soaking.”

He slid a finger into me, my back arching at the sensation. It was just one finger but oh god- another finger went in. He pumped his fingers in and out, “look at me baby.” I turned my head, his lips crashing to mine. “Got to get you nicely prepared to take my cock pretty girl,” he said, kissing my cheek and jaw.

“Ah- M-Mark I’m clo-close.”

“It’s okay baby, just let it out,” he said, bringing his thumb to my clit.

“Oh yes- fuck just like that Ma-Mark.”

He chuckled, “Go on cum.” Oh and I did, I came. My legs trembling, my chest heaving. “You did so well baby,” he said, pecking my temple.

I got up from his lap and kneeled down. I wanted him and I wanted him now. “Impatient baby?”

“Mm, I want you Mark. Please let me have you,” I said as I looked up at him.

He let out a curse before pulling his boxers down. His cock sprung out, angry and full of precum. “You look so pretty begging to have me, so here have it.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I wrapped my hand around his cock, licking his precum. I licked up his cock, wanting to tease him for a bit; wanting to savor this moment a while longer.

“Come on baby, stop the teasing,” he said deeply. He was growing impatient, I could hear it in his voice. In fact I was too, I wanted him in my mouth, so I took him in. Slowly, but then his hands gripped my hair. “You got this baby, just a little more deeper.”

Fuck. Mark was big and thick, my eyes were tearing up already. He pushed my head further down, groans leaving his throat. “You’re taking it so well like the good girl you are.”

Mark was always good at saying things whenever we got intimate. It turned me on even more. Once his cock was fully in, I started moving. Bobbing my head, moans coming out of both of us. “Eyes up baby.” I fluttered my eyes to him, his expressed; fucked out. He was enjoying this too.

He looked at me, “Don’t stop Y/N, it feels so good.” I kept going, his tip hitting the back of my throat. “Shit, just like that baby.” He was now controlling my movements, going faster. The tears streaming down my face. He wouldn’t stop groaning, I saw as he bit his bottom lip; he was close.

With a string of curses he finally came, I made sure to take all of his cum, not missing a single drop. “You did so good, baby,” he said, patting my head. I got up and smashed my lips against his, I was sure he could take his cum from my mouth.

“Put it in pretty girl,” he said, grabbing my hips.

I sunk down, feeling my pussy stretch. “Ah, Ma-Mark fuck…” I felt intoxicated, my head somewhere else.

“You’re still so tight huh,” he said, smacking my ass cheek.

I widened my eyes at his sudden action. “Yo-You’re just so bi-“ before I could finish my sentence he pushed me down, finally getting it all in.

His hands went back to my hips and his lips to my breast. “Come on, start moving baby.” Oh and I did, I felt so full. So euphoric. Oh how I love Mark. My trance was knocked out when he bit the side of my throat.

“What are you thinking about? You got right here baby,” he said, his voice deep.

“So-Sorry.”

He smirked, thrusting even more harshly. He was going faster and faster, no mercy.

“Slow down, please Mark! I’ll cum.”

“So cum baby, we got all night.” He slipped his thumb to my clit, abusing it. “Come on now, finish for me,” he whispered in my ear.

With a few more harsh thrusts I finally came. My second orgasm of the night. My back arching and mouth open. “So good,” I mumbled, earning a slight chuckle from Mark who was also close. His thrusts were getting sloppy.

“You gonna let me come inside?”

I nodded furiously, I was on the pill either way. If this truly was the last time I’d get to take his cum then so be it.

With that he came inside me, painting my walls white. Feeling even more full than before. We collapsed on the bed, trying to catch our breaths. His arms wrapped around mine, it felt so warm, I wished time would stop here.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he whispered, loud enough for me to hear.

He took me in his arms, going to the bathroom. By the time we left the bathroom, I had one or two more orgasms; still unable to keep our hands off each other. I fell asleep while in the bath tub, next thing I knew I woke up—it was 4am—his arms around me. Mark slept so peacefully, he was a beauty.

‘I have to leave, I have to leave now,’ I thought. So I carefully snuck out of his warm embrace and slipped my clothes back on. I walked to the bedroom door, stealing my final glance at the sleeping Mark. One tear, then two left my eyes.

“Goodbye Mark.”

-‘๑’-

That was hours ago, now the rain poured on me endlessly. Cars passed by and people with umbrellas. The world continued, but mine had stopped.

The stars on my scars have disappeared now and now those scars have become visible again.

Mark and I was a story with no beginning. Mark and I was a love story that was forbidden.

“You were never going to be mine.”

2024.01.27

final a.n: I was scared to write for someone other than jaehyun tbh but I think it ended well! I hope u enjoy my first Mark fanfic && ill be back in the future with more!! as i previously said i have 4 works currently in my drafts so look forward to them! happiest 127 day nctzen’s ! i love u all && pls enjoy this fic - jiji 🤍

p.s- u guys know where i got my title idea from 🫢 ?!

139 notes · View notes

hyuckswoman · 18 days

Text

mark and you arguing pt1

pt2

genre: angst (doesn’t have good ending but i can make a pt2)

summary: you don’t like how touchy one of your boyfriend’s friend is, when you try to tell him, he doesn’t listen

pairing: mark x y/n

“no mark you don’t understand and that’s fine, i never asked you to understand either way” you say putting your things down and closing your front door behind you

earlier that night, you and mark were on a double date with his childhood friend and her situationship? you thought it was her boyfriend but seeing the dynamic up close you understood how wrong you were

the date was going okay at first. since her situationship was so entertaining, it completed shifted your focus away from the fact that you had barely taked to your boyfriend ever since stepping foot inside of the restaurant, not only that but you had also failed to see how her hand was on mark’s forearm and didn’t look like it was going to move in any second.

you’re not normally the jealous type but seeing how there’s been a few instances where she had stepped over the boundaries you put with your bf and when you told him about it he just shrugged claiming that “she’s an old friend, she’s bound to be…comfortable” you were apprehensive of the evening.

and you were right to be! the whole evening was basically her flirting and eye fucking mark, cutting you off when you were speaking, barely paying any attention to her date i mean hell even YOU talked more to him than she did.

the more the evening progressed the more you dread coming home, yea it meant she wouldn’t be here anymore but it also meant you having to be vocal about your feelings and a possible argument with mark because of course his friend could never be in the wrong

“why are you being like this? each time we hang out with her you’re always mean and tense about it, i don’t get why you have a vendetta against her” you boyfriend says taking off his coat following you into the living room

“it’s not like i don’t have a reason to have a vendetta against her mark, she was flirting with you all evening! and i don’t even understand why you’re picking a fight with me, i bit my tongue on purpose and didn’t tell you shit and wasn’t planning to just to avoid this so i’m having trouble understanding why we’re even having an argument right now” you say sitting on the sofa hoping he’ll let it go

but of course he doesn’t

“oh so now i’m so scary and intimidating that you can’t communicate? and we’re having an argument because tonight, just like every night we’ve ever spend with her you were in a pissy mood. do you know how embarrassing it is to have to apologize for your behavior each time” mark says

“no one asked you to apologize, i kinda think it’s crazy how you’ve never even taken the time to maybe wonder why i dislike her so much mark” you answer anger rising

“i know why you’re like this, it’s because you’re jealous” your boyfriend answers

“i’m sorry? yea you’re gonna have to elaborate on this one” you say

“i don’t know maybe it’s because her and i get along or the fact that we were a thing for a short while maybe that makes you insecure or something” you boyfriend says ever so casually

“what the fuck?? she doesn’t make me insecure i’m just tired of having to explain to you why it bothers me to see one of your friends eye fucking you while you let it happen. i can’t even have a man be in the same vicinity as me before you start to lose your shit mark. Like i really don’t care that you and her were a thing because you’re with me now so unless it’s an issue i need to worry about I don’t see why I’d be jealous? But if you’re gonna be mad at me for being in a ‘pissy’ mood i never want to hear you complain about any men apparently flirting with me ” you say getting up, if you see his face you might start to hit it at this point

“I still don’t understand why you’re being so bitchy, if her and i were still dating, she would’ve never done this to me” mark says instantly regretting his words

“So it is something i need to worry about then.. you know what? go date her or something i don’t care mark, maybe she’ll appreciate you acting like a dick” you say sighing. this argument honestly tired you, repeating the same things over and over again tired you but what could be done?

you were starting to head upstairs to brush your teeth and head to bed when mark gripped your arm preventing you from leaving

“let go mark” you ask tiredly

“i’m sorry” he says apologizing

“okay, now let go” you ask and he shakes his head no

“please i’m tired i want to sleep let me go” you say as you forcefully remove your arm from his grip, if he wasn’t going to let you go, you’ll leave

“we don’t go to sleep mad at each other” mark says still blocking your way

“maybe sometimes we do, plus i’m not even mad at you now please move i want to brush my teeth and you’re blocking the path” you say

“i’m sorry” mark says

“i heard you the first time” you answer giving up on brushing your teeth settling to find a place to sit in your shared house

“talk to me, please” your boyfriend pleads

“i have been talking to you mark! ever since the first hang out i told you how she would make backhanded comments about me, then told you how it made me uncomfortable how touchy she was with you, then told you i didn’t want to hang out with her anymore so you could go see her alone and i also told you how her eye fucking you and making me feel like i’m bothering you guys annoyed me. mark you just never listen, and since you don’t listen i sit back, bite my tongue and try my best to act nice but it’s not because she’s your friend that i’m going to let myself get walked over” you say as mark finally lets you in your bedroom where you just lay down to sleep

“you’re right i’m sorry” mark says hugging your figure thankful that you still communicated despite his actions

“no you’re not, you say this every time the proceed to do it all over again, anyway good night mark” you say turning so your back faces him just wanting to be done with the conversation because you were starting to feel bad for acting this way when you have every right to be upset. Mark on the other hand is biting his lip realizing that he seriously messed up and needs to make it right somehow.

because he’d 100% rather never talk to that one friend than have you feel the way you’re feeling right now, at the end of the day, nobody compared to you and he now realized how little he’s been showing it to you

#nct dream #nct imagines #mark lee #nct #mark x y/n #mark x you #mark x reader #mark angst #nct angst #nct x you #nct drabbles #nct x reader #mark lee drabbles

749 notes · View notes

haespoir · 11 months

Text

everytime: jjh, mkl.

⨯ pairing: situationship!jaehyun, situationship!mark, reader

⨯ word count: 2.4k

⨯ summary: going back to jaehyun felt natural. a single call from him had you running back. but with enough encouragement, your friends are able to convince you to pursue other people. god, you hated dating in 2023. what the fuck was a situationship anyways?

⨯ warnings: jaehyun loses lol, mentions of drugs (weed) and alcohol, some suggestive content but that’s about it, gn!reader but i used good girl once bc i felt legally obligated im sorry.

⨯ playlist: breathin, ariana grande / everytime, ariana grande / feather, sabrina carpenter

⨯ extra content: texts between reader n mark, jaehyun pov, mark pov

⨯ a/n: i’m going to blame it on the copious amounts of caffeine in my system, so if you see any errors, please ignore it! i definitely have more in mind for this pair, so the chance of this becoming a mini series is possible. i just have adhd and i’m jobless atm so my attention is going everywhere

. . .

Somehow you’ve found yourself once again wrapped in Jaehyun’s embrace; the warmth of his body making you overheat under his blanket. It’s like he’s everywhere. You couldn’t escape his scent even if you wanted to. And it’s not like you wanted to anyways. It had been at least 3 months of whatever you and Jaehyun had going on. Was it friends with benefits? Were you guys exclusive? This was a question that neither of you could answer.

Though if you were cornered into answering it, you knew the answer would be one that only broke your heart. You were his; there wasn’t anyone that you wanted more than Jaehyun. But he was not yours. You knew that he flirted openly with the girls on campus. You had been blown off by him numerous times so he could spend his time with other girls all the time. As long as you were able to hold Jaehyun at night, in your little corner of the universe, you thought it would be okay.

However, that was not the case when his ex-girlfriend came back into the picture. It felt impossible to even get a grip on the male. Even if you knew you had spent the night with him, she would have him again by the time he woke up.

As quickly and quietly as you can, you untangle yourself from his sleeping form, ignoring the way he groans and tries to pull you back into his bed. Your resolve would crumble if he was able to get you back into that bed, and you knew this to be a fact. Once your clothes are back on, you feel the shame settle in your bones. How many times was this going to happen? Did you have any self-respect?

Too many times, by the way. It happened way too many times. The same damn thing. He wouldn’t contact you all day, not until he had the tiniest amount of weed in his system. And then your phone was blowing up.

“Where you are?”

“I need you.”

“I’d give it all just to kiss you right now.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again. I’ll treat you better.”

“This time I won’t break your heart. I swear.”

How many excuses were you going to let slide by? Each time he did the same thing. It did happen again; he didn’t treat you better. He definitely broke your heart, each and every time. But this time it’s different, not because of Jaehyun though. You’re usually able to escape the apartment before any of his roommates wake up, not this time. This time Mark Lee is seated at the island, a donut and two coffees spread out in front of him. He gives you a shy smile, gesturing to the breakfast. “I got you a donut and coffee when I was out this morning.”

The gesture has your eyes glossy almost instantly, tears threatening to spill over. Jiwon would snort at your behavior. The bar was really in hell, wasn’t it? “Thanks. You didn’t have to,” you say quietly, standing next to his sitting figure.

“I wanted to.” And you can tell he’s being honest. It was no secret that Mark harbored a crush on you; and while you adored the male, you were so stupidly into Jaehyun that you didn’t have it in you to entertain Mark’s advances. You could break your own heart, but you sure as hell weren’t breaking his.

“You don’t have to stay; I know you usually don’t.” His words make you feel even more pathetic, even if you know he doesn’t mean any harm. You thought you were sneaky after leaving the next morning, but Mark knew. He always seemed to know.

So when you get home and Mark’s name lights up on your screen, you swear you won’t fall into Jaehyun’s trap again.

mark [8:30am]: home safe?

you [8:33am]: yea

you [8:33am]: thanks

mark [8:33am]: any time

“It’s like Dua Lipa said,” Jiwon says one night, “If you’re under him, you’re not getting over him.” Her words are met with a pillow to the face and a roll of your eyes, but you know she’s right. It had been 2 weeks, almost half a month, since the last time you had slept with Jaehyun. But practice makes perfect, and when you’re drunk, you have no business practicing anything.

So when you wake up in Jaehyun’s bed, it feels horrible. Even more so when Mark isn’t there with coffee and a sweet treat to make you feel better about your bad decision. And what a bad decision it was.

Because suddenly you’re stuck in the same trap again. Jaehyun’s got you in his sticky grasp, yet he’s always slipping through your fingers when you think you have him. It was unfair. Everyone around you told you this.

“He doesn’t care. Just drop him.”

But you cared.

“You deserve better.”

You didn’t want better; you wanted Jaehyun.

“Stop doing this to yourself.”

You couldn’t stop.

“I love you, but this has gone on way too long. I’m coming over, and we’re going out.”

Now this was something you could do. What was meant to be a girl’s night out, quickly turned into you nearly begging your friends to let Jaehyun to go. But fate seemed to be on the side of your girl’s tonight, Jaehyun’s voice blaring from the speakers on your phone as he tells you he can’t make it.

“Are you seriously not coming, Jae?” He can hear the irritation in your voice, and while he wishes he could say something that would soothe the flame that lights in your heart, he can’t. The sigh he lets out is all you need to hear before you’re spitting out quick profanities and ending the call.

Your friends are met with a blank stare; you were always so different when Jaehyun wasn’t there. It was like the male held your happiness in his hands, and they absolutely hated it. So many times they had sat you down and begged for you to end things with the male. You were on the back burner ever since his ex walked back into the picture, but when he called you high, you were crawling right back.

“You can’t keep going back to him,” Jiwon states, the only friend there brave enough to break the silence. “It’s getting ridiculous at this point. It’s the third time he’s flaked to hang out with her.”

It hurts so bad to know that it’s true. You had given the male multiple chances to hang out with you and your friends this week. And each time he let you down. With a small sigh, you slouch into the arms of your friends. If you couldn’t be in Jaehyun’s arms, this was the next best place to be.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Jiwon says, passing you a red solo cup that you assume is filled with some sort of concoction of soju and juice. “We’re going to pregame, and then when we get to the party, you’re finally giving Mark a chance.” The pointed look she gives you is one you know you can’t argue with. Even if there’s nothing more you’d rather do than lay in bed and wallow in your self-pity, you know your friends want the best for you. And so you do exactly as Jiwon says.

The second you arrive at the party, Mark’s arm is around your waist. It’s impossible to fight the permanent blush that dances across your cheeks at the way he treats you. He’s so sweet, so incredibly sweet that you feel the cavities forming after you’ve pressed multiple short kisses on his lips.

You’ve almost nearly forgotten your relationship with Jaehyun if you could even call it that. It’s not until you hear his laugh, his ex’s laugh echoing just as loud in your mind. Of course, he was here. It was Johnny’s party. He had to be here. He just couldn’t be here with you. It washes the sweetness of Mark out of your mouth, and suddenly you feel yourself on the brink of tears.

As if he can feel the tsunami of emotions you’re feeling, Mark presses another sweet kiss on the corner of your lips. “Breathe.” When you look up at him with glossy eyes, he gently squeezes your hip. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” And for some reason, you trust everything he says. Which is why Jaehyun’s forced to watch as you slip out of the house, one of his best friend’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

And that’s how you find yourself propped up on the hood of Mark’s car in an empty parking lot, a large fry shared between the two of you. You had also gotten a large soda, but Mark had forfeited the drink to you quickly, happy to see you sobering up.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What for?”

“For a lot,” you start, thinking about all the times you pretended to not notice the way Mark hovered around you, his eyes seemingly always on you. “But mainly for crying. Ruined the vibe, no?”

Mark laughs at your words, and it squeezes your heart. You had always loved his laugh; it was just so… Mark. You think to yourself that there was nothing you wouldn’t do to hear his laugh. “Don’t apologize. You know I’m always in your court.” There’s a boyish smile on his lips as he speaks, unable to look you in the eye.

You swear your heart is melting. He had always been like this. Firm in his attraction, but always too shy to make a move. So you make the move for him. After a series of brief kisses, the two of you settle down, and time seems to fly with Mark. You guys watch the sunrise from the hood of his car, a spare blanket from his trunk wrapped tightly around the two of you. You had talked for hours, about anything and everything. It felt so natural being with him, nothing like Jaehyun. When he drops you off at home, you’re pressing a soft kiss to his lips. One that leaves him chasing your lips for a second. And a third. He returns home with a promise that you’ll give him a chance, him and only him.

So you can’t blame him when he sends Jaehyun a cheeky text, the lyrics of the song you sang at the top of your lungs on the way home fresh on his mind.

mark [8:20am]: i’m so sorry for your loss bro

Jaehyun doesn’t understand the text for a while. When he doesn’t hear from you for the next two weeks, he thinks it’s just like before. You just need your space, and then you’ll come crawling back. Just like you always do. You understood Jaehyun better than anyone; you never left him for long. He loved that about you.

It’s Tuesday when he finally hears you again. Quickly, he rushes out of his room only to freeze in shock when he sees you under Mark’s arm on the couch. There was no fucking way you had left him for Mark Lee. You were his; you always had been. Mark fucking Lee had no right to have his arm slung over you like that. Not on the same couch where he had spent hours kissing you. “What is this?” he asks, doing his best to not explode on the spot.

“Huh,” you ask, turning to look at him, “that’s our leftovers. You can have some.” You act like he’s talking about the white boxes the two of you had left on the counter. You know that’s not what he means though. But Mark had taken you out on a date this morning, something Jaehyun had never done. The two of you usually went back to your place to avoid running into Jaehyun, but Jiwon had claimed ownership of the apartment for just one day. Something along the lines of the sight of you and Mark making her lovesick. You had rolled your eyes at her dramatics but granted her wish nonetheless.

“Good girl,” Mark whispers against your neck, pressing small kisses along the area. It was a message of encouragement only for your ears, and it was one that had heat spreading across your face. If there was one thing Mark asked of you when you first started talking, it was honesty. So you were honest. You had spent hours in his arms crying about how you loved Jaehyun, and how you felt so guilty towards him. And Mark did his best to comfort you. He always reminded you that he was there; he would teach you how to love him as you loved Jaehyun. Even better, he made sure you loved yourself.

You had no idea how it made Mark feel, seeing you blatantly disregard your past fling as if he meant nothing to you. While he felt bad for Jaehyun, he meant it when he said he felt sorry for Jaehyun’s loss. Being with you was everything that he imagined and more. His heart was full, and he wasn’t going to let Jaehyun rain on his parade.

“Yea, there’s a burger and some fries,” he says offhandedly, sliding off the couch and pulling you with him toward his room. “Enjoy.”

Once the two of you are behind his doors, you burst into a fit of giggles. Whatever confidence Mark had seemed to seep into you as you pulled him into your arms and onto his bed. “You know, he’s probably livid,” you say, carding your fingers through his hair.

“He has no right to be,” Mark scoffs, thinking about the numerous times he had seen you heartbroken over Jaehyun, “we’ll just call it his karma.”

“I feel bad though.”

He nips at the skin on your jaw, the grip he has on your waist tightening. “You’re seriously thinking about another man in my bed? Am I not good enough?” He shifts so that you’re under him, his arms caging you in.

The pout on your lips is absolutely adorable, and Mark swears it takes every fiber of his being to not devour you on the spot. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’ll help you forget about him.” His body is on top of yours, his mouth busy on your neck once again.

“Promise?” your voice almost gives out on you when he begins to nip and lick at the tender skin.

“Promise, babe.”

#guys im losing my mind if i wasnt hyped on caffeine this would be longer #but i am already thinking about fwb jaemin LOL #im also scared of writing big pieces so like... babysteps #mark #jaehyun #nct fic #mark fic #jaehyun fic #mark fluff #mark angst #jaehyun angst #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct 127 fic #nct dream fic #wtf do i tag idk

538 notes · View notes

lowkeychenle · 6 months

Text

Empire State of Mind [PJS/LMK] (M)

Description: Life with Jisung is almost perfect. He loves you, and you love him. But when you run into your ex, Mark Lee, you realize the one thing you've been missing all along is him.

Genre: Angst/SLIGHT fluff (like you REALLY have to squint)/SMUT

Content Warnings: LOTS OF rough, explicit unprotected sex (don't do this LOL), counter sex, car sex, use of pet name 'Princess' (Jisung), use of pet name 'pretty girl' (Mark), INFIDELITY (reader), do not read if infidelity is a trigger for you or if it pisses you off. It pisses me off too, I just like drama. Also, neither man knows the other exists so do with that what you will.

Word Count: 7,158

Pairing: Park Jisung x Reader // Mark Lee x Reader

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Author's Note: Is this what I'm supposed to be working on? no of course not, however, I do think this is pretty good so no one judge, also HELLO FIRST JISUNG FIC??????? AM I OKAY (no)

In a city as busy as this one, it’s normal to wake up to music playing loudly outside. The not-so-gentle melodies flood through the window, the faint lyrics of Empire State of Mind just barely enough to pull you out of your slumber.

Things weren’t like this before. You remember a time, somehow far off, where you were happy. When simple things like this didn’t bother you. When waking up meant you woke up next to him, too.

Now you’re next to another, but it’s not the same. It’s never the same.

Days blend together. Weeks become months. Honestly, you have a good relationship with Jisung. He’s loving. He takes care of you. Loves you in ways you’ve never been loved before. But something is different. You didn’t start out comparing him to your ex—even though you don’t call him that.

Mark is more than an ex. He’s the first person you truly loved, so of course, it’s normal for him to have a place in your heart, right?

Even two years after your break up, however not-painful it was, you find it’s hard to go an entire day without thinking of Mark. You sit on your shared couch with Jisung, playing with his hair while his head rests in your lap, and you’ll be thinking of him. The movie passes by as unwelcomed background noise.

When your eyes flutter open, you groan and blink a couple times, seeing the city skyline on the horizon. You’re far up here, but you’ve never felt more at rock bottom than you have lately. Maybe it’s the gradual descent into perpetual sadness that has you clinging to Mark. Maybe it has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with who you were when you were with him.

Jisung’s arm is slung over your waist, but his soft snores tell you he’s still fast asleep. The extensive noise of the city bustling around on a Saturday morning doesn’t bother him in the slightest. You gently remove his grip on you, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood floor is cold against your feet, but you welcome the feeling.

It is a feeling, after all. You don’t get very many of those lately.

The full length mirror sits directly across from you. Jisung has insisted you two find a better place for it, but the tiny apartment doesn’t exactly give you many options. You stare at your frazzled hair, at the way the sun gleams off your skin.

You look tired. Sad. Like life is passing you by. And at this point, it really is.

Jisung is good to you. He makes you happy, but the happiness you feel with him always seems…temporary.

Sighing to yourself, you get out of bed, grab a pair of shorts from your clean laundry basket, and tug them up your legs. Jisung’s T-shirt sits too large on your frame, and as you brush your teeth, you take notes of the subtle marks he left on the conjunction of your neck and shoulder from last night.

He’s a good lover. An even better boyfriend, but everything is so monotone. The world has been drained around you, and the only thing you can blame is him.

You run a brush through your hair, and then you put your shoes on. One thing that’ll always make you feel better is sunshine, even though there’s a slight lack of it in the city due to the high-rise buildings lining the street. You pay them little attention. As you leave your apartment, head into the elevator, and eventually make your way to your freedom, you take a deep breath of air.

You don’t know how life became bland. No part of it makes sense to you, but you don’t fight it. How can you fight it? Instead, you let it engulf you, and you know Jisung is hurting because of it. You wonder how long he’ll be able to put up with it.

Walking through crowds of people somehow relaxes you, as you know you’re nobody to all of them. Not a single person around you expects anything of you. In a world full of disappointment, expectations, and emotions, it’s nice to be a small speck of dust on a much wider spectrum.

You find your usual coffee shop, pushing the door open and waiting in the little line that’s accumulated. After you order, you wait off to the side, frowning when you feel your phone vibrating. Looking down at your screen, you recognize your friend, Jiyoon, is calling you.

“Hey,” you answer, putting the phone between your shoulder and your ear. “What’s up?”

“I’m so sorry,” she starts off quickly. “I wasn’t supposed to work today and they just hit me with this giant assignment, I can’t do coffee today.”

She’s already late. Not that it matters.

“That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. “(Y/N), seriously. You know I love you, and if I didn’t have to do all of this bullshit, I’d never miss out on one of our coffee dates.”

“It’s fine.” You nod, accepting your drink from the barista with a smile. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll see you next week.”

“Alright! I’ll make it up to you. I’m buying next time.”

“Ah, yes, thank you for offering to pay for my three dollar coffee, that’s quite an extravagant—” Your smile falls as you turn around to exit. The sight almost has you dropping your cup, too. “I gotta go.”

You scramble to hang up your phone as you make eye contact. It’s been at least a year since you’d seen him last, but he still looks the same. Mark’s eyebrows slightly furrow as he recognizes you, his head tilted to the side. And that’s when a smile breaks out on his face. The smile that still has your heart plummeting into the depths of your stomach. Attached to the man that you spend everyday thinking about.

Your lips part, almost as if you’d be bold enough to say something, but you snap them shut equally as fast. You have no idea what he thinks about you, what he must be feeling at this moment, but your relationship didn’t end horribly.

Things weren’t right. You both wanted different things.

“Wow,” he says, resting the small of his back against one of the booths. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

You’re speechless. How do you say anything to him, when he’s as perfect as he was, and the remnants of the past explode across your mind like fireworks? Your heartbeat is much faster than normal, hands fidgeting. What the hell are you supposed to do?

“Sorry, was that bad?” Mark scrunches up his nose and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No, not bad.” You shake your head. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you today.” Or ever.

“Honestly, I usually take a different way to work, but I put the first coffee shop I could find into my GPS.” He shrugs.

“I see you still try to brave the big bad city with a car, huh?” A real, genuine smile tugs at your lips.

He bites back a laugh. “Not as much as I used to.”

“Ah, so some improvement has been made,” you tease him. The tone of your voice surprises you, as you actually sound light-hearted. When’s the last time you spoke to someone this way?

“You know what they say. Time does wonders.” He tugs his fingers through his hair.

“Well,” you begin, dropping your hand against your side. “It was nice seeing you, Mark. Really. I’ve gotta get back.”

“Right, of course.” He nods and gestures toward the door. “I don’t mean to keep you.”

You sip your coffee and make your way past him, and as you reach out for the door, you hear his voice again.

“(Y/N)?” He waits to continue until you look at him. “My number’s still the same, in case you wanted to catch up.”

You shouldn’t want to. Jisung gives you everything you could ever ask for, and even strives to be better every day. He brings you home flowers, he cooks for you. Even after all that, you’re thinking about how nice it would be to be in contact with the man in front of you again. Mark was everything to you at one point, and now you’re meant to feel that way for Jisung.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you give him a warm grin, turn, and leave the coffee shop behind. As embarrassing as it is, you do have his contact saved. And you know he wants to hear from you, so it’s only going to make this nagging feeling worse.

As you walk back down the sidewalk, a new sort of happiness is awoken. For the first time in a long time, you finally feel like yourself again. You’re practically skipping down the street. When you get home, Jisung’s in the kitchen, leaning on the island while he finishes his buttered toast and takes a drink of his water.

He regards you warmly as soon as he sees you. “You left early this morning.”

“Sorry, Ji,” you say, approaching him and kissing his cheek. “I woke up pretty late and wanted to make sure you’re getting rest.”

His arm wraps around your waist and tugs you flush against him. He delicately chews on his bottom lip as he scans over you. There’s so much love contained in his pretty brown eyes, you find yourself wishing you could get lost in them.

“Have I ever told you how good you look in my clothes?” he hums, tugging the bottom hem of the T-shirt.

“Maybe once or twice.” You beam and tilt your head to the side. “I think I look better when it’s off, though.”

The shock is clear on his face—between the way his eyebrows jump upward and the slight parting of his lips. You never say things like that to him. Typically, you wait for Jisung to initiate, and he’s most likely always written it off as you being shy.

You’ve never had a problem being attracted to Jisung, so sex isn’t your issue. He reaches spots inside you you never thought possible, and he seems to know what you want before even you do. And as you hoist yourself up on the counter, you wonder if your sudden craving for Jisung has anything to do with him at all. Guilt pangs briefly, but the second he’s between your legs with his gray sweats sitting low on his hips, you fend off any sort of bad feelings.

Jisung chuckles, cupping your cheek and stroking it with his thumb. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“Is it so wrong to want my boyfriend?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, tracing your finger down his chest. “I’m just wondering what it’s gonna take to get you to fuck me on the counter.”

“If this is how you’re gonna come home to me, I’m sending you out with Jiyoon more often.” He wastes no more time, leaning in to kiss you. You sigh against his lips, rolling your hips toward him.

You feel him starting to harden through his sweatpants. His hands move down to your thighs, his long fingers gripping you roughly as he pulls you to the edge. You secure your legs around him, grinding the growing heat between your thighs against his length. He lets out a quiet groan and thrusts toward you.

“Fuck me like this, Ji,” you whisper, kissing down his neck. “Just like this.”

“I gotta take these off.” He tugs at the bottom hem of your shorts, leaning his head back.

“Takes too long.” You shake your head and nip on his skin. “Please.”

His breath shudders, and before you know it, his hand pushes the fabric aside, touching along your entrance through your panties.

“Shit, princess, you’re so wet,” he groans and presses against you, fingers grazing your clit.

You rub along his clothed length, squeezing him and shuffling closer to him. At the end of the day, you know Jisung deserves better than this, but the second he moves the sticky fabric covering you to the side, any regret or guilt fades quickly. You can’t see him taking his cock out of his pants, but you note the way a sharp breath passes through his lips and his gaze darkens when he jerks himself slowly.

He lines up with you, tip already applying pressure, and kisses you roughly before pushing inside. You tighten your legs around him, head falling back against the cupboards at the sensation. He’s already throbbing, the thickness of his length stretching you to your limits. Reaching up, you grip his hair and roll your hips.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, gently rocking back and forth. “Hear that, princess? So fucking wet, I’m sliding right in.”

As soon as he deems you adjusted to him, he thrusts. His cock rubbing against your walls at this pace has you trying to find something to hold onto to ground you. Your mind is completely blank other than your pleasure.

And when your eyes roll back and you close them, the last thing you expect is to see Mark through the darkness. Oh, God, if you weren’t in such heaven right now, you’d feel horrible. Between the slick sounds of your wetness, his thickness stretching you to your limits, and the soft grunts falling from his lips, you allow your brain to put the other man in Jisung’s place. As long as you’re staring at the back of your eyelids, it’s Mark fucking you on the counter.

And for some reason, that thought has you skyrocketing toward your high. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and like he knows what that means, his hand reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit with ease. Your hips jolt, the feeling borderline too much for you.

With Mark on your mind, you finish so much faster than you usually do.

You even have to bite your lip to stop his name from escaping you. Instead, you force Jisung’s out, whining as your vision blurs. He fucks you through your orgasm before his own pace becomes erratic. He lets out a long moan, and one more thrust has him spilling deep inside you.

Finally meeting his gaze, you give him a fucked-out smile, wishing away how bad you feel about imagining your ex fucking you instead of your boyfriend.

He kisses you sweetly, humming. “What spurred this on?”

“You just…look really good today,” you mumble and press your lips to the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He grins and gently pulls out of you.

After he adjusts himself in his pants, he scoops you up off the counter, bringing you to your shared bedroom. He cleans you up with a towel, but not without admiring the way his load leaks out of you.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Jisung says, grabbing you a new pair of panties and shorts.

“What’s that?” you ask, accepting the new items and changing into them.

“What do you think about getting married?” he whispers, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I mean, in general. Nothing definitive with us, but I just want to see where your head is at before I get ahead of myself, you know?”

You should’ve expected it, honestly. With the couple years you two have been together and the way you’re not getting any younger, you’re more than sure his parents have been pressuring him into marrying you. Your heart sinks further in your chest when your mind immediately jumps back to Mark.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it,” you tell him.

It’s not entirely a lie. You’ve just never thought about marrying him.

“Would being married to me be a bad thing?” he continues, gaze scanning over your face for any sign of emotion.

“No, of course not.” You shake your head, rubbing your thumb against his cheek. “Nothing about you is bad, Sung.”

“But?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that.”

The pang of hurt flashes across his features so quickly, you almost miss it. He recollects himself, as if he wants to hide the emotions from you in the first place.

You’re sure after that, everything will return to normal. For a while, you hoped the sighting of Mark and its effect on you were a one-time thing, if not for your sake, then for Jisung’s. It’d crush him to learn how much Mark’s presence threw you off course.

Things almost worked out in your favor. Almost.

Until you went back to that coffee shop and saw him again. It was odd that you’d gone so long without seeing Mark, and now he’s suddenly in your favorite place in the city almost every time you’re there.

It has to be on purpose, but the last thing you’ll do is correct him.

The second time you saw him, you stayed to talk to him a bit longer. You somehow convinced yourself you weren’t doing anything wrong, considering he was the one showing up to see you.

After the third time, you caved and began texting him. You weren’t sure if he knew about Jisung, but you never brought it up. All you were doing was talking—there’s nothing wrong with talking to Mark, right?

Maybe that would have been the case if you told Jisung about him. If you’d told him that you were texting someone else daily, almost instantaneous replies. But every day you physically saw Mark, it awakened something in you.

But it’s okay because you never planned to see him…right?

Jisung was still in bed when you got back from getting coffee. He smiled at you as you walked in, and when you tossed your phone aside and straddled his lap, he didn’t even hesitate. Something about seeing Mark had your insides turning, and Jisung was an outlet. It didn’t help that every time you closed your eyes, you pictured Mark filling you instead of Jisung. It got worse and worse as time went on.

You sink down on Jisung’s length, throaty groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your waist. Giving yourself a few moments to adjust, you let yourself loose after that. You ride him desperately, the feeling of him deep within your walls making you delirious. He didn’t even need to guide you, your excitement allowing you to ignore the ache in your thighs as your wetness drips down them.

Jisung has no idea what’s gotten into you lately, but he fucking loves it. He’d gotten used to the way things were, and seeing you take charge and want him was doing things to him, too. You’d had more sex in the past few weeks than you had in the months prior, and Jisung was living for it.

But he doesn’t know.

God, it should make you feel bad, but at this point, all it does is send another burst of wetness down your thighs. He reaches behind you and squeezes your ass, watching you in a form of awe as your tits bounce in his face and your nails leave crescent-shaped imprints on his shoulders.

You close your eyes, imagining it’s Mark’s fingers connecting with your clit. Mark’s cock fucking into you as you sink down. Mark’s face contorted in pleasure. The sight in your brain is enough to have you shattering, your orgasm ripping through you at an impossible intensity. You scream, Jisung—Mark—sitting up just in time to catch your crumbling body.

He thrusts two more times before he’s filling you to the brim, chest heaving as he cradles you to him. Gently scratching up and down your back, he kisses your temple.

You’ve been insatiable lately, but you can’t deny how much better life has been. Mark has made your life better, even with short conversations and texts. Not to mention the guilt has all but disappeared. There’s no harm in talking.

You pull back to kiss Jisung, a quick peck on his lips while you grin widely. “I’m gonna shower. Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He chuckles. “Have fun, my love.”

You grab new clothes and your phone and head toward the bathroom, sending one more smile his way over your shoulder before you lock the door behind you.

The next morning, you’re awoken by the pleasant surprise of Jisung’s head between your thighs. You weave your fingers through his hair. While he’s under the blanket, he’s Mark. And that thought makes everything melt around you.

“Wh—what are you doing?” you breathe out as his tongue flicks your clit.

“You’ve been so good to me lately, princess,” Jisung mumbles against your thigh. He nips your skin. “Figured I’d return the favor.”

You shouldn’t let him, but the way his mouth works expertly against you has any logical thought escaping you at a record speed.

So, instead, you close your eyes and pretend the man between your legs is the one you’re yearning for, and you fade into the pleasure. You grind up against his face, chasing a high that’s never too far off when Mark is on your mind.

This goes on for months. As much as you hate to admit it, you see Mark at least three times a week. You’re not the one going out of your way to see him, and you’re not setting up meetings, so it’s still okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. Jisung wouldn’t even be mad at you.

Things start to fall apart for you when your perfect illusion of everything crumbles. When Mark begins asking to see you, and you still oblige. You make excuses to Jisung about why you’re out more, saying Jiyoon invites you over. He never questions you. Jisung trusts you, and you use that to your advantage.

Being around Mark erases the uniformity of life, and the monotonous days are far, far gone. He makes you feel alive again. Like you can do anything, and like happiness isn’t too far out of reach.

You love Jisung. You love the way he treats you and you’re happy with him, but something’s missing. That something is this—the brief time you spend with Mark, as innocent as it may be. He never touches you or tries to kiss you or anything like that, you just sit and talk. Your soul has always vibed with Mark’s. Something about him has every part of you alive and thriving.

Mark lives in the same apartment building. When he invited you over, you were hesitant. You walk in with the resolve that it’ll be like any other time you’ve seen him, that being alone instead of in public won’t change the way you interact with him.

He hugs you, and you nearly melt into the scent of his all-too-familiar cologne. You’re surprised by the way you want to linger. This whole time, you thought your feelings and actions with Mark were innocent, and that they didn’t affect the way you were with Jisung. The slightest warm touch from the tips of Mark’s fingers are almost enough to send shivers up your spine, almost enough to ignite a fire in the pit of your stomach.

Why are you here? Why did you agree to go to his place?

He hands you a glass of wine before sitting on his couch. You join him, sitting on the opposite end. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you’re seconds away from telling him about Jisung.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Mark says, swirling his wine. “Like this, I mean. You’ve always looked good in here.”

You sip the red liquid. “You’re just saying that.”

“Not true. Walking away from you was a mistake, (Y/N). It’s been years and I still think about you and how hard you tried. I’m really sorry I wasn’t enough back then.” He scoots closer to you, dangerously close. His scent infiltrates your last barrier, and his brows pinch as he scans over your face.

“Mark.” You let out a weak chuckle. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Even if I mean them?”

“Especially if you mean them.”

His chest deflates. He purses his lips and gulps. “How else do I tell you I want you? We could be like we were before. Better, even.”

Your heart races in your chest. You scramble for words, knowing you should shut him down immediately, but nothing comes out. You don’t want to.

Jisung. You have to think of Jisung, and you have to get the hell out of Mark’s apartment. Jisung would be hurt if you entertained this. The talking he could handle. He’d brush it off without a worry, but this? You being so close to another man and aching to—

“Don’t you agree?”

“Mark…” Yes. You agree. You’ve never agreed with something more, but you can’t. You can’t.

“What’s holding you back?” He grabs your glass from you and sets both on the coffee table before coming back, cupping your cheek with that warm fucking hand. “You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you again.”

“M-Mark…” That steel wall suddenly becomes kinetic sand, and it’s crumbling fast.

“You wouldn’t have come here if at least some part of you didn’t want me.” His thumb strokes your skin.

Your chest constricts, and right when you feel the last brick tumble, your phone vibrates in your pocket. Springing away from Mark, you grab the device and look at the screen.

Jisung: hope you’re having fun with jiyoon! i’m going to sleep. love and miss you

Tears well in your eyes and you jolt up off the couch, tugging your fingers through your hair. Mark follows you, reaching out for your wrist. You jerk your arm away and shake your head.

“I need to go.”

As you rush out of his building, everything hits you all at once. Everything you’ve been doing is wrong. Talking to Mark at all should never have happened, especially without Jisung’s knowledge. You’re barely able to breathe by the time you make it to your car. You rest your head against the metal. If you hadn’t left when you did, you would’ve caved. Who knows what would’ve happened? Would you have slept with Mark?

Right before you get in, Mark is behind you, grabbing you and turning you to look at him. You gasp, but as soon as your lips are parted, his mouth is on yours. Instantaneously, you melt, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you’re surprised by how right it feels. It makes the guilt you were feeling disappear once more.

Suddenly, Jisung doesn’t exist anymore. It’s just you and Mark, and the craving for him you’ve always had. You whine into his mouth, and the next thing you know, his jacket falls to the cement with a quiet plop. Pulling away from him, you stare in shock, stunned you would even do something like that.

“Come back upstairs,” he whispers, panting. “I need you so fucking bad.”

“In the car,” you say. “Get in the car.”

His eyes darken, and he steps back to open the backseat for you. He glances around before following, and then you lock the doors. Climbing on top of you, he kisses you gently. Mark has always fit perfectly between your legs, and you were convinced back then that he’d been made just for you, and having him in this position again makes you start to think that again.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, soft gaze trailing over your face.

You reach up and trace along his cheek, humming when the faint blue light of the night around you two shrouds him in a graceful hue. He’s the only thing on your mind. The only thing that matters.

He grips your leg and lifts it over his hip. Pinning it to the seat, his hand trails under your skirt, tapping gently along your thighs. The simple touch sets you on fire, and you know your panties are embarrassingly soaked and only getting worse. You’ve never needed someone like you need Mark Lee.

He rubs you through the lace, sighing. “Fuck, I knew you wanted me, pretty girl. So fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Do something.” You seal your fate with those words, but when he slides the fabric aside and slides his fingers inside you, you don’t even have time to think of the consequences. He catches your whine in his mouth. The slow pace drives you crazy.

Slick sounds fill the car, and you’re glad he left your skirt on. It’ll hopefully stop too much from getting onto the upholstery.

“Mark.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “I need you right now.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, and once he retracts his hand away from you, you hear the tell-tale sound of him unbuckling his belt. You hear the zipper and him pushing down the fabric, and the next thing you know, his cock is lining up with your entrance.

“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning down to kiss your cheek, your forehead, and then the tip of your nose. “We can take things slow.”

“Please,” you say. “Please.”

You moan as he slowly pushes inside, and you relish in the fact that you don’t have to close your eyes to see him. This really is Mark on top of you, really the one between your legs, and the one who’s stretching you to your limits.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, rocking his hips gently.

He stops when he’s completely seated inside you, the feeling already making your thighs shake. His hips push against yours, and you wish more than anything you could be naked and in his bed. He’s so deep in you, your head lolls back and you push up toward him.

You repeatedly whisper his name, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him down to kiss you. Despite the situation, it’s been so long since someone made love to you. Your activities lately had all been rough with quick endings. Mark gives you time to enjoy him inside you while he gets lost in the constant flutter of your walls around his still cock. He doesn’t move. All he does is kiss you, the motion sweet and soft.

When he pulls back, you whine both from the slide of his throbbing length against your walls and the loss of him so deep. He intertwines your fingers, smiling as he truly begins. His pace is slow, but mind blowing nonetheless. You feel every inch of him, every twitch once he’s buried inside.

You’re floating on a cloud, gripping his hand like your life depends on it. It’s rewarding, as if everything you’ve gone through in your life has led you to this moment, to this backseat with Mark.

This is what you’re missing. Life has been off because you don’t have Mark, and now you know you can do anything. All you need is him.

He sits up on his knees, pulling you closer by your hips. With one hand gripping you firmly, the other moves to rub circles on your sensitive clit. His thumb teases you, and then his thrusts pick up speed. He’s proven how he feels, and both of you are ready to finish even if you never truly want this to end.

You hold onto the seat, but every thrust has your head smacking into the door. It has your mind whirling and your high looming scarily close. Your back arches as you shatter around him, and a scream pours from your mouth. He curses, hips stuttering before his hand slams into the window. The glass is fogged, and as his palm slides down, a squeak follows.

He pushes deeper, so, so deep, before spilling his load inside you.

You sit there with Mark a bit longer than you should. Once he pulls out of you, you truly realize what you’ve done. You kiss him, letting him know you have to get home. He tries to clean you up the best he can, but you reassure him you’ll be okay. With one last kiss, he leaves you alone in your backseat after you promise you’ll text him.

You lay there for a moment, tears pricking your eyes as you slap a hand over your mouth. Jisung will take this car to work tomorrow. The back smells of sex, Mark’s hand print is on the window. Your skirt is most likely ruined, not to mention the lace of your panties. Another man’s cum drips from your entrance while your boyfriend is sound asleep at home.

You drive yourself home in discomfort, quickly doing all you can to get rid of any evidence. The windows are down on the way back, the cool air doing little to help you. You fix your hair as much as possible once you’re parked. Straighten out your skirt. Check the mirror to see if your makeup is smudged. You wipe the excess lipstick, tears flooding down your cheeks. How could you let this happen? Everything was innocent. Nothing was supposed to happen with Mark.

When you walk into your apartment, all the lights are off. You have to walk through your bedroom to get to the bathroom, and you desperately need a shower. Quietly, you try to get through your bedroom without waking the peaceful, sleeping Jisung. He’s innocent in all of this. He deserves better, but you won’t tell him. You can’t hurt him like that.

Right as you think you’ll make it to the bathroom, he stirs. Luckily, he can’t see your state through the dark.

“Hi, baby,” he hums, voice thick with sleep.

“Hi, Ji.” You try your best to hide anything other than neutrality. “I’m just getting in the shower before bed.”

“You’re not gonna kiss me first?”

If you don’t, he’ll find it weird. He may even wake up fully and figure you out in an instant.

If you do, the guilt will tear you apart limb from limb. How could you kiss Jisung right after Mark’s tongue was in your mouth?

“Sorry.” You fake a chuckle. “Of course I will.”

You make your way over to his side of the bed and lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips. He closes his eyes and smiles at you, intertwining his fingers with yours, the same ones that latched with Mark’s a mere half an hour earlier.

“I’m so glad you’re going out and having fun,” he mutters. “Love you, babe.”

Your breath hitches. “I love you, too, Ji. Always.”

You get in the shower, furiously scrubbing your skin as if it’ll erase your actions. Silently, you cry until the tears no longer form. You sit on the tile, legs clutched to your chest as you rock back and forth.

This is all your fault. You let it get this far, and now Jisung will be the one to face the consequences for it.

Unless…

Unless he never finds out.

You’ll stop talking to Mark, and it’ll be like none of this ever happened. Jisung will never know, and you can continue your life with him as it has been.

You calm yourself down, get out of the shower, and get in bed with Jisung.

Even then, you wish it was Mark.

The next morning, Jisung goes to work before you wake up. Your resolve to ignore Mark fails as soon as he texts you. Mark is everything you’ve ever wanted or needed, and regardless of anyone’s feelings, you feel an overwhelming connection to him. But you can’t leave Jisung. You just can’t.

Over the course of the next few months, you continue to see Mark when you can, and Jisung stays unaware. There are some nights where you sleep with Mark, and then come home and sleep with Jisung. Oddly enough, your life feels complete this way. Everything is good, and the guilt of sleeping with another didn’t last. Jisung doesn’t know about Mark, and Mark doesn’t know about Jisung.

Or so you thought.

A few months with both isn’t long enough for you, but one night, when you go to Mark’s, you’re not expecting to find Jisung awake when you get home. Not only is he awake, but all the lights are on, and he’s sitting at the kitchen table. You frown, setting your purse down.

“You’re not in bed?”

“No, (Y/N), I’m not.” His face is cold, not a single emotion portrayed. “Where were you?”

“I was with Jiy—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Your heart sinks, and you let out a shuddering breath. You’ve been so careful. How did he find out?

“I…” You gulp, fists clenching at your sides.

“Who’s Mark?” That one question has your world burning down in flames, and the tears well in your eyes before you can stop them.

“Ji…”

“Don’t lie to spare my feelings.” He laughs bitterly. “I’ve seen the texts. Not to mention the fact Jiyoon told me a while ago that she hasn’t seen you in weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, and a tear rolls down your cheek. “I’m so sorry, Ji, I really never wanted it to go this far—”

“What the fuck did you think would happen?” He scoffs, hands slamming against the table. “What did you honestly think talking to a random fucking guy would turn into? Clearly, you had some sort of idea because you never said a damn word about it to me.”

“I’ve just been…I was sad, okay? Everything was so boring, and—”

“Oh, right, so you cheating on me for months is because I’m boring you. Got it.” His jaw quivers, but he quickly sets it. “And what is it, exactly, about him that gets you so fucking excited?”

You’re silent, but more tears pour down your face.

“Now you want to be shy? You want to feel remorse? Answer the fucking question. What could he possibly fucking have that I don’t?”

“It’s not like that, Ji, you’re not lacking.” You approach the table. “I’m so fucking sorry, none of this is your fault.”

He holds his hand up to stop you from getting closer to him. “Something else I noticed. You know, I wondered what had gotten into you before, when you would get home and immediately jump on my dick. It was unlike you, but looking back after reading those texts, the dates are just…oddly similar.”

“That’s not fair—”

“No, (Y/N), what’s not fair is learning how my girlfriend has been f—” His voice breaks, but he shakes his head and continues, quieter this time. “How my girlfriend has been fucking someone else behind my back because she finds me boring.”

“Please, let me fix this. I need you, okay?”

“No.” He wets his lips, taking a deep breath. “I was a little skeptical at first when Mark came up to me, you know. Didn’t want to believe you could do something like that. But then he showed me the texts. All the times you told him you love being with him. In a few months, you were ready to tell him you wanted to marry him, but after two years with me, you’re not ready?”

You open your mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give you the opportunity.

“The texts before you got physical with him were all reminiscing about your past relationship, and how much you miss it. How much you wish you could have it again, your life’s so bland, blah, blah, blah.” He chews on his bottom lip, hurt finally showing in the swirls of his brown eyes. “All my stuff is gone already. I wanted to tell you that I at least had the decency to leave you instead of leading you on while I fucked someone else. When I walk out of that door, I don’t want you to fucking text me or call me or anything. I want nothing to do with you anymore.”

“Jisung, please…”

“Go ask Mark. You’ve apparently asked him for everything else the past few months. Although, I don’t think he’ll be too keen on answering you either.” Jisung stands, palms still flat on the table. “I fucking gave you everything, and you think it’s boring. And I hope you realize everything you’ve just given up.”

He reaches into his pocket and tosses a small, black box on the table.

“I bought that months ago. Months ago. You can keep it. Not like I have any fucking use for it anymore.” He leaves you standing in shock as he walks to the door and puts his hand on the knob. “Fuck you. I hope the rest of your existence is even a fraction of how miserable I feel right now. I deserve better than this.”

As he slams it shut behind him, you fall to your knees. Tears pour down your face. Mark told Jisung? How did Mark even find out about Jisung? Why would he do that to you?

You pull your phone out of your pocket, frantically typing out a message to Mark. It doesn’t even reach delivered status. You call him one, two, three times, and each one immediately sends you to voicemail. Time passes as you sob to yourself against the hardwood, but you’re unsure how long you’re truly there for.

You’re not sure which hurts worse—the sting of Jisung’s words or Mark being the one who told him everything.

You eventually make it to your feet, and you grab the black box. When you open it, more tears fall. Jisung asked you how you felt about marriage because he wanted to marry you. He’d bought a ring before that conversation, and he’d been holding onto it ever since.

You ruined him. You chewed him up and spit him out all in the name of keeping Mark in your life.

And now, they’re both gone.

That night, you crawl into bed—the one that still smells of Jisung and his cologne—and stare at the ceiling while you sob. Despite him telling you not to, you also try texting and calling Jisung, but those don’t go through either. Even Jiyoon doesn’t answer.

You don’t sleep. You can’t.

And as the sun rises and light infiltrates your windows, so do the faint lyrics of Empire State of Mind.

This time, there’s no Jisung. There’s no Mark. No arm around your waist, no plans to go get coffee. Your face hurts from crying so much, and it hits you then: you did this to yourself. Nobody’s at fault except for you, and you must reap what you sow.

Maybe life was boring before, but at least you hadn’t been alone.

As more tears form, you stare at the ceiling and whisper an apology to Jisung, words he’ll never hear.

He’s gone.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee angst #park jisung #mark smut #mark angst #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #jisung smut #jisung angst #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct angst

242 notes · View notes

moniescove · 5 months

Text

Heartless

"She won't know" the mysterious woman straddled on Mark's lap whispered into his ear before peppering kisses along his jaw. Letting out a sigh of satisfaction he only let her continue. He knew you wouldn't be home for the next week while you were finishing up your semester over seas. But what he didn't know was you were planning a suprise visit.

Lost in his own bliss too preoccupied with how the womans lips felt on his neck Mark failed to notice anything around him including your jingling keys opening the door. You entered silently hoping to suprise your boyfriend who was no where to be seen.

He's probably asleep you thought to yourself, knowing just how tiring his job is you wouldn't be suprised. With a smile on your face, excitement bubbling in your chest you could only think about what his reaction would be after not seeing each other in person for so long.

Making your way through the dimly lit apartment you stopped at your bedroom door, a sliver of light shining through the slightly ajar door catching your attention. Bringing your eyes closer to the crack your heart stops. Seeing the love of your life being straddled and touched by an unknown woman with no intent of stopping you felt sick as a lump started forming in your throat.

You push the door open making the image even clearer. The woman roaming her manicured hands all around Mark's body as her lips only continue to explore more of his neck that he has given full access to. He doesn't even seem to notice you with his tightly lidded eyes lost in his own desires.

"Mark."

Sprung out of his daze Mark quickly opens his eyes and sees you standing in the door way. He can see all the emotions washing over you in waves, pain, disgust, betrayal, heartbreak. And all he can feel is burdened. Burdened by your interuption as the woman hurriedly separates herself from him and rushes out of the room.

Left in silence you and Mark stare at each other, gaze unfaltering. You don't know what to say, so much is running through your mind you just can't stop and think of any word that could properly explain how you feel. All Mark does is sigh as the tears continue to fall down your face.

"Why." is all you can choke out.

"you've been gone for 4 months now __, what was I supposed to do when my girlfriend was miles away." he sighed out facing away from you.

"You were supposed to wait for me Mark." you cry out. "Wait for me just like how I always waited for you everytime your schedule took up all of our time! All those days weeks and months I would go without seeing you and I never once thought of betraying you like this!" you yell out as the hot tears only continued to cascade down your face with no sign of stopping.

Finally standing up Mark faces you with no remorse on his face, something more like irritation, impatiently waiting for you to finish.

Bringing his hands up to his temples Mark sighs "Listen __, that was then this is now. I never asked you to wait for me and frankly, I'm honestly tired of you 'waiting' for me." he finished crossing his arms and staring right into you.

You could only feel your heart cracking and breaking into a million pieces at the nonchalant attitude your boyfriend had, how so carelessly he took your heart and shattered it like it was nothing.

"I waited for you because I loved you." you whispered out "I spent all this time loving you Mark, I was willing to give up every part of me for you."

Searching Mark's face for any sign of remorse or loss or just anything that you could hold onto that showed he still cared but there was nothing. It was like you didn't even recognize him, like this was an imposter of the man you loved, merely a shell, and honestly you really wished it was.

Not able to stand being in that room for any longer you turn around and leave while silently hoping he would stop you but he didn't. That day you left and never went back. The image of your once true love completely shattered.

•

Sitting on the edge of his bed Mark let out a frusterated breath as he grasps his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"You okay Markie?" The woman asks, crawling behind him to dot kisses on his bare shoulder.

"I think it's time for you to go." he says peeking slightly over his shoulder. "The door is on your left." standing up to reach for the woman's scattered clothing on the floor, Mark hands it to her before making his way to the bathroom connected to his bedroom. Left feeling embarrassed, without another word the woman quickly dresses herself and makes her exit.

Finally letting out a relieved sigh Mark leans his hands atop the vanity and stares at himself through the mirror. Taking note of the fresh purple and red marks left littered on his body replacing the ones that have already faded.

Looking at himself now, not even Mark could recognize who he saw in the mirror. Bringing home a new mystery woman nearly every night chasing a high that he can't reach. Days slowly melting into each other with no meaning, he felt lost and the only way he could mend it was through temporary fixes.

Feeling exhausted he hangs his head low, gaze falling to the ground, eyes roaming until something catches his attention. Peeking through from underneath the counter there was a light reflecting. Curiosity getting the best of him he reaches for the object, chest clenching realizing what it was. A small picture frame that held a photo of you and him on one of your first dates. The image of you clinging onto a smiling Mark holding a teddy bear, placing a kiss on his cheek left him feeling empty. The memory still lying fresh in his mind as if it happened yesterday, the way the crisp air felt on his skin, how your hand felt so prefect within his own, your big smile that could stop the whole world when Mark won you that teddy bear. He was so happy, you both were.

He missed the laugh that would melt all his worries away, the scent that took him to a far away place everytime it reached his nose, the touch that would send a million sparks running through his body. he missed you. Missed the way you loved him so unconditionally and unapologetically, and more importantly he missed loving you. He missed having a reason to be the best version of himself, to have a smile on his face in even the darkest moments because in the end he knew he would have you by his side. He missed it all.

And before he knew it, hot tears started falling with no intent of stopping. His vision becoming more and more blurred with every memory and emotion that flashed through his mind before all he could think about was you and it pained him to an unthinkable amount as he realized the last memory he had of you was the image of you crying in pain all because of him. Because of his own selfishness his last memory of you was seeing just how broken he left you and there's nothing in this world he wanted more than to turn back time and change everything. He wished he wasn't so stupid and waited for you just like you waited for him.

All Mark could do was sob as he hugged the picture to his chest wishing it was you. He regretted everything.

The vivid image of you looking into his eyes, begging for him to say something, begging him to not throw you aside and all he did was break you down and let you go.

How could I be so heartless?

A/N: "need a mark cheating, leaving his s/o, then regretting it angst ☺️☺️🫶🏼 i am normal" - anon

162 notes · View notes

liliansun · 9 months

Text

🎧 : grab your headphones as we wait for the release of speak now (polaroid version). each track will have its own story to tell, musical notes ranging from heartbreak and first loves. don’t be fooled by the sweet title tracks of each song, not every story with a happy ending always starts out on the right note.

summary : you and your friends are trying to survive day by day at your school’s university NEOU. somewhere along your final two years, each of you finds your own love story that turns your reality upside and has you questioning if relationships in college is actually worth it. although you each have your own story to tell, you all hold onto the one thing you have in common and that’s each other.

featured songwriters: nct dream’s haechan, jaemin, jeno, mark and renjun with supporting vocals from jisung and chenle

original songwriters: joy, mal, neowa, sal and y/n

genre : university au, college au, young adult romance, swearing, mentions of lying, non-graphic mentions of violence, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, heartbreak, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, lots of crying, mentions of alcohol. slight mentions of adult themes but not in detail

send in an ask to be added to the preorder for each song or whichever track calls out to you most or comment down below

ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU : HAECHAN’S VERSION

pre order : completed

release date : 07 | 16 | 23

summary : college was enough to deal with, barely passing classes and struggling to keep up with what was going on in each was a daily struggle. not having time to catch someone’s eye was fine with you, that was until you met him. there was something about him that was enchanting, so you went out to find him, hoping you kept him up the same way he did you.

OUR LAST KISS : JAEMIN’S VERSION

pre order : completed

release date : 10 | 11 | 23

summary : he was cute, he knew how to poke at her soft spots and he knew what to say to make her laugh, but mal wasn’t like any other girl. she knew his type and she knew they’d never get past messing around in the night and forgetting about it during the day. so why is he always on her mind, even after he left? guess that last kiss he gave left more of an impact on her then he thought it did.

I SEE SPARK’S FLY : JENO’S VERSION

pre order : ongoing

release date : 11 | 25 | 23

summary : jeno was the calm before the storm, never letting his his smile ever turn sour. his touch was the warmth she never knew she needed and when his eyes turned into little crescents, sal thanked the moon that night for giving him such features that resembled. all things seemed fine, until she realized she yearned for that same smile too many have seen. scared, she runs from the feelings that knock on her door, unbeknownst that he was waiting for her to answer him.

taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @cutesince2000 @minkyuncutie @haechansbbg @luv4jeno @haechology @velvet-side @sseramine @tywritesstuff @sunflowerbebe07 @i6renj @e-forgettable @myhaechan @nyukyujs @naids4luv @daegalfangirl

I GO BACK TO DECEMBER : MARK’S VERSION

pre order : unreleased

release date : tbd

summary : graduation was something mark had been looking forward to since the day he started university, but he didn’t expect how hard it would be once he met joy. she was his sunlight, brightening his day each time they passed by each other. now that he’s been set off into the real world, joy has to face the struggles of dating someone you just don’t see all the time anymore.

taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @cutesince2000 @minkyuncutie @haechansbbg @luv4jeno @haechology @velvet-side @17ha @naids4luv

FOOLISH ONE : RENJUN’S VERSION

pre order : unreleased

release date : tbd

summary : renjun silently sat back, watching all of his closest friends spark relationships between each other. left wondering if there was anyone out there for him, neowa tries her best to show him how long she had been waiting for his attention to fall on her. but one can only wait for so long before the heart grows tired of hoping and renjun comes to realize it all too late.

taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @cutesince2000 @minkyuncutie @haechansbbg @luv4jeno @haechology @iraa567 @velvet-side @miniature-tragedy @naids4luv

a/n: i tagged hyucks taglist for the ones who want to know about the spin-offs

386 notes · View notes

honeym4rk · 2 years

Text

skinship - kisses

in a relationship where your boyfriend finds physical affection rather awkward, you’d best believe it would’ve taken some time for him to warm up to the idea of skinship- skin to skin, a hand on his, cheeks crashing together as close as possible. but the patience comes at a good cost- mark has several ways to close the distance between you.

previous (lightswitch)

summary: it shouldn't be this hard to go about kissing mark.

something you never expected at the start of your relationship was mark’s initial hesitance to kiss you.

of course, naturally, it takes some time for two people to cross their own boundaries of comfort, to enter, invade, and conquer another’s territory of personal space. some people forego this careful caution in a budding relationship, and dive right into one another. neither you or mark are some people.

and it’s not that you think mark is particularly bold: you know he isn’t very upfront and confident in expressing his feelings for you. you’ve known this from the very start, when his friends had to literally push him to ask you out, and the very awkward first conversation you had. you know he can get a bit shy, but part of you always thought, that every now and then, he’d have bursts of the courage that he has when he’s on stage. mark can definitely be suave, and cool, and charming, but mostly when he’s in his element and knows exactly what he’s doing.

right now, in this moment, he has no idea what he’s doing.

the credits of the Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle are starting to roll, and you’re stuck frozen in the burrow you’ve made in the fold of the sofa, head resting on his shoulder as his arm is wrapped loosely around your side. it’s been holding you like this since the halfway point of the movie- you didn’t notice, but he let out a sigh of relief and satisfaction when he succeeded in placing it there. he stretched, arms going as high as they possibly could, before his limb wandered and found its way pulling you closer to him. cliche, he knows, but a win for him nonetheless. he had to hold back his grin when you leaned into his body.

at first, you could feel his fingers ghosting the frayed threads of your jean shorts, like his wrist was stiff and his hand was afraid to open up so his palm would make full contact with the skin of your thigh. but as the movie progressed, and he constantly broke into his cute, little, hearty giggle that somehow sent his entire body into motion, his hand started to ease, fingers drumming on your supple skin, drawing circles on it, accidentally hitting it when he laughs a bit too hard.

he gulps, and breathes, “wow, that movie was not as bad as i thought it was.”

“yeah, it was pretty good.” neither of you make an effort to move out of the position. a slight shift could mean this rare moment of comforting proximity that you waited so long for would vanish in an instant, like a bubble popping after floating around in glee. so you force your head to continue facing the screen, eyes boring into the tiny, white words that are scrolling away.

before you know it, even the credits have finally come to a close, and your eyes are fixated on the next netflix recommendation, Jumanji: The Next Level that’s about to play in 5, 4, 3, 2,

your head snaps up to turn, still balanced on the ball of his shoulder. when you face him, you’re staring right at him. he does that stupidly attractive thing where he turns his head towards you before his eyes land on yours, and your eyes are now locked on his. you bite your lip to ease just a little bit of your restlessness, and this movement causes his eyes to dart to your lips for just a split second.

he gulps again.

screw it, you’re gonna have to say something.

“are you gonna kiss me?” oh my god. not that. stupid, stupid, self-sabotage.

his hand flies away from your leg, retreating back to him so he can make huge, sporadic gestures that speak for his panic and awkwardness.

“uhhh, i-” his hand is rubbing at his nose, and though it’s dark and his head is turned away from you once again, the light from the television lets you see the pink tint that begins to dust his cheeks. “i mean, if you, if you, um, want me to,”

you don’t know why you find this so cute- you literally felt just as awkward as he does a second ago, but seeing him freak out somehow fortifies you to prod at him a little more. besides, you realise that if you don’t make a move now, after at least a month and a half of going out with him, mark’s probably never going to.

your face scrunches up into a chuckle and you don’t take your eyes off him- “well, do you want to?”

“i mean, i-i totally do want to,” his hand is on his chest, and it comes down as he points at you with his thumb, “i’m just really scared that you- don’t? i don’t know,” mark leans forward from the couch to run his fingers through his hair, and you tug at his shirt sleeve multiple times to pull him back.

“i do, mark, i really do.”

“um, okay! great. cool,” he squeaks out, and his movements to almost close the gap between your faces are so mechanic, and panic settles onto his mind and his features, “oh, but i, uh, sorry if i’m a bad kisser or anything, i don’t really get much uh, practice in this, haha.”

you have to turn your face away to hold back a giggle at this cute, shy mess of a boy, before you finally compose yourself, and let one hand gently cup the side of his jaw, and reassuring, “it’s fine. sorry if i’m no good either.”

you smile, and plant the briefest kiss on the corner of his mouth. then you let go.

“now, how was that?”

“t-that wasn’t even a kiss!”

“really?” you laugh, bringing your legs up onto the couch to kneel and face him completely. this time, you hold both of his cheeks in both of your hands before closing your eyes and pressing your lips on his, for a while longer now, and you’re just about to pull away when you feel fingertips ghosting up your jaw, and feel him tilt his head so that his mouth fits perfectly in the crevices of yours.

“what about now?”

“better.”

he shifts his body to fully face you too, and your mouths meld together just a few more times, and the feeling of his fingers gripping at you, lips chasing after yours, drowns out the background noise of kevin hart bickering with dwayne johnson. you’re melted into this moment, and you don’t want it to end.

another thing you never really expected from mark was- well, his fear of sudden pecks, those that catch him off-guard, those that come when he least expects them to. they don’t give him any time to react, or prepare, or take a breath so he doesn’t combust when your lips touch his skin.

you’ve made out a few times with him so far in the couple of times you’ve seen him since that very night, and so you thought that he’d appreciate the quick, little kisses, but you probably shouldn’t have assumed.

he’s getting ready to leave your apartment after another movie night, and just before he walks out the door, he hugs you goodbye, and before he can pull back, you sneak a kiss on the tiny corner of his mouth that’s turned up into a smile. or at least, you try to.

he flings himself out of your grasp, head jerking back so fast and hard that you almost tumble into him from the momentum, and both of you stare in complete shock at one another.

“oh, ummm, sorrysorrysorry, haha, awwwkwaaaard!” your hands fly to the air in surrender as if you’ve been caught red-handed, and your feet take slow, tiny steps away from him.

“that’s my bad, oh my god i’m sorry,” your words are drowned out by his, and every cell in you is cringing from embarrassment and from worry and fear that you’ve done something wrong, something you shouldn't have done, did you go too far? are you stupid for thinking that would be okay?

“sorry, i, uh, i think it’s like, muscle memory to move away because haechan and the guys, well, mostly haechan, always tries to do that kinda thing. i-it’s not you! i swear! you’re great! haechan, not so, you know what i mean? like i wanna kiss you too but in that moment my body prepared for fight or flight, you know? oh my god i’m so sorry.” he’s doing that thing with his gestures again, frantically waving his hands to ensure you visually comprehend that it’s not your fault.

this revelation comes like a knife slicing through the tension that once was, and you hide your face behind your hands in relief, giggling at the stark weirdness of it all, but you also can’t shake off the tinge of sadness from the rejection. it wasn’t directed towards you, you know, but you just can’t help but feel a little taken aback by what happened.

he grabs your wrists, pulling you towards him, and encouraging you to try again.

“okay, go on. i’m ready now. sorry. just not used to this.” his cheeks are a deep shade of red, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

you’re smiling throughout the entire, brief, kiss goodbye.

nearly six months have passed, and you try to give him a peck every now and then, just to see if he still retracts in fear, and you can see him tense up every time you try.

so you stop.

the last time you’d tried was right before he left for tour, and in your endless contemplation of your relationship (you had way too much time on your hands not to fall down the rabbit hole of thinking), you come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just something you don’t have to do to mark. with mark, for mark. besides, there are other ways to express your love for him anyways- he doesn’t cringe when you run your fingers through his hair, or when you wrap your arms around him in a bear hug from behind. probably because he doesn’t mind when his friends do it too. and it’s not like you can’t kiss him entirely, you just have to make sure he’s fully aware of the sparks that are about to fly when your lips touch, instead of the little zaps of static that come when he least expects them to, the ones that he shies away from.

it’s been a week since he’s returned. a week since your suffering has finally come to an end, a week since the longing that filled your entire being to the brim finally drained out when your body collided into his when you embraced after what felt like an eternity. it took everything in you not to jump at him when you saw him at your door, so instead of fighting against your growing excitement, you run straight into his arms, hopping as his hands link together to prop you up.

it’s hard not to tear up- the sight of mark in the flesh is overwhelming and sensational and you’re burying your face into his neck, hands playing with the hair at his nape. what used to be short, clipped ends that pricked at your fingers have now grown into something like a mullet- you remember when you saw photos of him online the other day and started crying because it was a reminder of just how much time was passing without him around. you’re crying, now, too, and mark starts to giggle you can hear just how tired he is from the grogginess of his voice- “aw, babe, are you crying?”

“no.” he tries to nudge at you so you can pull your head back, but you stick to him like a koala wrapped around a tree until he lets go of your legs and tries to tickle you.

“awwwww, nooo! you’re making me want to cry too!” he whines, and you wipe your tears away on the sleeve of your sweater before finally looking up at his face through your glossy eyes. his face has changed, too. his eyebags are puffy, his cheeks are sunken in the slightest bit, and his jawline is more prominent than you remember it to be. his face feels just a little smaller in your hands when you hold him, and you’re staring, wondering if it’s been so long that you’ve simply forgotten the tactile sense of touching him, feeling him.

before this can spur any more tears from escaping, you’re sent into overdrive, since he crashes his lips into yours. the initial shock flickers out and you take in the jolts of electricity coming at you, the storm of repressed zeal and yearning unleashing between the two of you. it’s been so long and yet you can still remember how mark kisses- when he turns his head to nip at more of you, his arms link around your shoulders, and then the next time one hand cups your face, his thumb trailing up and down your jaw, and eventually his mouth strays away from yours, and he plants kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, and then… he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you for you to know.

you’ve seen him almost everyday since he’s come back- he likes to come over just to catch up on sleep in your room as you study. just so you can spend a little more time in your day with one another. there have been more cuddles, more back massages (you even gave him one this time), more sitting in his lap, and he even tries to pick up the skill of braiding your hair. so far, you’ve stuck to your resolution of not stealing pecks out of the blue- so the only thing there isn’t more of is kisses. it’s good, you think- you let him initiate and then you return, so you’re sure you don’t have to take him by surprise.

tonight, you’re in the middle of submitting an assignment, when you hear your phone ping from across the room. then it pings, again and again, in succession, and you’re about to go over and read the messages before it blows up into a full phone-call, the marimba ringtone blaring through the speakers.

it’s johnny, and in the split second before you answer the phone, you can only assume the worst has happened- you know mark’s with him, they had a company dinner to celebrate the end of their tour- what, did he get into an accident? did he pass out? did he-

“hello? y/n?” there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, and the curiosity is really starting to eat you alive.

“hey, john, what’s up? is everything okay?” you hear a groan in the background, and it turns into a long, howl-like wail that subsides into sob.

“yeah, uh, not really. you heard that? that’s uh, it’s mark. i think he’s had too much to drink, and it’s not like he’s never gotten drunk before, he’s definitely had more before, but i’ve never seen him this, uh-”

“is that y/n?!” you can hear mark hiccup, “y/n! baaaaaaby babe y/n!” he’s still crying, and you’re so worried. mark hasn’t really expressed much sadness ever since he returned, and most of the time he’s very frank with his emotions- so if he was ever sad about anything, you’d think you would’ve heard about it by now.

you can hear someone else shushing him, and johnny continues- “i think he really wants to see you right now, so can we just drop him off at yours? you can just text me your address, i don’t think he’s in a state of mind to give directions right now.” the sobbing is still ongoing, albeit a tiny bit more muted than it was before.

“um, yeah. of course. i’ll send it to you. is.. is he alright? what happened?”

“well, i’m not very sure, actually. he was fine at the start, and then started to get all giggly like he normally does when he’s had a few glasses, and then he had a tiny bit more, and got all sappy. and now we’re uh, we’re here. he does keep mentioning that he misses you, though. which i don’t get- since i’m pretty sure he spent the entire week with you, so….”

“right….okay. thanks johnny. has he like, thrown up or anything?”

“uhh, nope. don’t think so. hopefully he doesn’t. or hopefully he does. he’ll probably feel better after.”

“yeah. you can call me when you get here, i’ll buzz you in. see you!”

you hang up, and are left alone only with the many questions you have, and wow, you’ve never felt more nervous in your entire life. not when you did that interview for a scholarship, or when you had your finals, or when you drove for the first time. this imminent fear is much more terrifying- especially because you were under the presumption that you knew exactly what was happening. in everything else you feared the unknown, the uncertainty of it all, but this, you feel like you were supposed to know- you thought there was nothing between you and mark, thought he was just as transparent as you had been with him.

this week had been complete bliss for you, having him in close proximity again. you’re treasuring every moment with him much more now, holding everything right to your heart, actively storing every scene of him in your hippocampus for later viewing. what could’ve gone wrong? was that not enough? what’s changed? you can only wander around your apartment as your mind runs wild. is he stressed? is this some cathartic release? does he suddenly hate what he’s doing?

the wait is painfully long- almost making the four months without mark cease to nothing, and you try everything not to think about him. you submit the assignment, you try to beat your record on minesweeper, you watch a couple of youtube videos but lose interest, and text a close friend for emotional support. before the soul-crushing impatience can actually kill you, you hear the ringing on your intercom, and you’ve never pressed the accept button so fast.

you don’t even wait for them to ring your doorbell. that would just cause more delay. you open the door right away, and peek outside, and the lift doors burst open and mark’s whines reverberates along the tight corridor. johnny’s carrying him piggyback, and the sight of him like this makes you so, incredibly sad- it pulls at your heartstrings and you feel suffocated by the tightening hold that it has on you. if he wasn’t so upset, maybe you would’ve laughed at how cute and snug he looks stuck onto johnny’s back.

mark’s face morphs into a giddy smile when he sees you, letting out a garbled call for you, and you greet johnny as he slips his shoes off to carry him into the living room and plop him onto the couch. you begin to untie his shoe-laces so you can get his shoes off, and you sigh, “thanks so much for your help johnny. do you need anything? need a glass of water… or?”

“no, i’m good. taeil’s waiting downstairs, anyway.”

you walk him to the door with mark’s shoes, placing them right at the entrance. “right. well, um, thanks again! hope you guys get back safe. i’ll see you around.”

“yup, see you. hope he’ll be okay.”

the door is shut, and you can finally focus all your attention on the boy that’s caused you so much concern in the past thirty minutes. you sit right by his head on the couch, and when you try to get rid of the denim jacket he’s wearing, he stirs.

“baaabe?”

“hey, markie. what’s got you all upset?” you kneel on the floor so you can slip the jacket right off of him, and his swollen, tear-filled eyes are following you as you move. when you get close enough, you’re taken aback because he smooches you, missing your lips completely, and the sweet, gentle kiss lands on your chin.

it’s the first time he’s ever done that- first time he’s ever gone in for a kiss without you looking- and you have to sit and blink to try and figure out if you’re imagining things.

his hand reaches out for you, lips still puckered as he tries again and again to kiss you anywhere on your face, and as intriguing as it is, it’s more concerning since it’s mark. your mark- the one that didn’t really seem to like it when you did this, the one who pretty much repelled away from any of the sudden pecks you gave him.

you sweep his hair to the side, and before you can even try asking again, his hand falls limp, and he drawls, “you don’t wanna ki-kiss me anymore.” tears are starting to well in his eyes again, and you have to force yourself not to give up on how confusing this entire situation is.

“what? babe, who told you that?” you’re chuckling, but trying not to, because he’s literally about to cry ohmygodwhat.

“yoooooou,” he whines, “you haven’t kissed me since i, i got back!”

you brush a tiny droplet from his eye with the pad of your thumb, and then go back to stroking his hair. you try not to show your incredulity, but it’s a little hard when you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. “but i have! we even kissed yesterday, mark! remember?”

“yeaaah we kissed! but i kissed you.” he’s so funny- even as his eyes are closed and he faces the ceiling, he still has to point at himself and then at you when he says this, and then he pauses and continues, “you haven’t tried to kiss me since i left. like, reeeaaally tried. and i can’t figure out whhhhhy.”

oh. what?

“well, markie, right now i don’t really wanna kiss you since you’re kinda stinky,” you try to joke, but his eyes shut even tighter and he’s about to burst into tears again, “noooooo! i’ll go brush my teeth-”

“but didn’t you say you’re not used to it? i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. you didn’t seem to like it very much.”

“but i diiiiiid! i missed you so much when i was away,” a hiccup. “and then i felt so sad,” another hiccup. “because i remembered how sad you got the first time,” and another hiccup. “and then when i got back i was soooo excited for you to do it, so i could do it back to you, and you never did.” his mouth turns into a pout, and his nose sniffles.

this is what he was upset about? no way. there is no way he got so sad because you decided not to kiss him out of the blue anymore. it makes your heart swell in confusion- because, what the hell, mark is just, for the lack of a better word, so darn cute. you can’t believe that this, out of everything you could’ve had a miscommunication about, is what he was hiding from you.

“awwww, i’m sorry babe. i really thought you didn’t want me to.” you coo, and lean in closer to press your lips to his forehead. “look! i’ll give you sooo many right now!” you kiss him all over his face, and the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile, and he starts to giggle, complaining that it tickles.

“but why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve done it if you’d asked.” you begin to trace your finger all over his features, stopping at his nose to boop at it.

he heaves out a sigh, and you can tell he is a mere minute away from dozing off to sleep with how slowly he speaks, “i dunno, it just seemed silly to tell you. but this, it’s probably even sillier.”

you pinch at his nose. “yeah, i’m glad you know, mark.”

you know you once said that a small peck on the lips didn’t mean much to you, but right now, it’s your favourite way of showing him you care. just the thought of both of you unknowingly reciprocating the exact same yearning for each other is so amusing, and it gives you butterflies to know just how similar you are to one another. it’s more than simple skin on skin- it’s when two lines, so parallel and alike, tend towards one another and meet in an oblique. and though these lines have to part afterwards, they curve, bend, and loop to find their way back. you’ve never believed in infinity- it’s stupid to think that anyone or anything is completely limitless- but in this moment you can only wish for your lines to join and travel endlessly.

when you return with a face towel to wipe his dried tears and snot away, you give him your sweetest, last kiss goodnight.

a/n: ahhhhh lol sorry for taking a while for this update (if anyone's been waiting hahahah) i was busy with exams and decided to finally take a break to finish writing this! i've started to realise that every time i start writing i feel so accomplished, and then by the time i get to the end i just feel like the end product is disappointing aaghdaghag lol

1K notes · View notes