paramaniaa

[paramaniaa]

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[paramaniaa]

ex marks the spot

pairing: ex!mark x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, a pinch of angst, mystery, exes to lovers, (mentions of) characters death, graphic descriptions of violence and murder, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, oral (m/f)

summary: Two months ago, you and Mark called it quits and haven’t spoken to each other since. As per tradition, your respective friend groups gather each Christmas eve to keep the peace, but this year somebody has a different plan. And the new chick on Mark’s arm isn’t the worst thing to happen.

wc: 19.9k

author’s note: (this is a repost!) nothing like a christmas mystery lol. partly inspired by honey lavender by ieuan. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Distractions, you chanted to yourself, desperate to think about literally anything other than your many problems. 

A tall window overlooked the entire city, as far as you were concerned. Nightfall had taken over and the bustling streets were caked in thick clunks of snow. Pressing your fingertips against the glass, you could feel relentless winter. 

None of it did anything to soothe the white hot envy scorching its way down your throat. Across the room, there was a blonde girl on Mark’s arm, snuggling against his chest and sucking up all of his warmth. 

That should’ve been you, but you would never admit to yourself (or anyone) that you were jealous of her. You had way too much pride for a silly thing like that. Of course, Mark had never brought a girl to one of these events before, and you had an inkling it was solely to make you jealous. You couldn’t let him win. 

“This is my friend Jodie,” Mark had introduced the girl hanging on his every word like a lovestruck teenager, but noting how close they kept to each other amongst many other things, it was safe to assume they were more than friends. 

Less than lovers, probably, but undeniably more than friends. 

Johnny, the man of the hour, came floating your way with the grace of a butterfly and said, “Damn. You could just tell me if you’re hating the party.”

Your eyes flickered. “What?”

“You’re mad. It’s written all over your body language.” Then, he craned his head and whispered in your ear, “Have a drink and relax a little. Don’t let him know he’s getting to you.”

“He’s not getting to me,” you grumbled under your breath, but you knew that it was an obvious lie. 

“If he’s not, then Jodie sure is. That’s what he wants. The whole reason he’s sucking her face off by the hearth is because he wants you to see.”

You knew that. Mark always wanted to be seen, to be acknowledged. His whole life was based on making people look at him, to which you were no exception. Your relationship consisted of him doing anything and everything necessary to grab your attention, but in all honesty, it didn’t take a whole lot. 

You could never keep your eyes off Mark and he knew it. Wherever he went, he was the most radiant person in the room. He was a Leo to his fucking core.

Getting back in character, you straightened up your stance and threw Johnny a beaming smile. “It’s a wonderful party.”

Johnny grinned. “There she goes,” he said in his regular speaking voice, pleased at your new demeanor. 

He was the master of all things body language and human psychology. He had been friends with you long enough to be confident that you’d never want your ex thinking for a second that he had one up on you. At least you knew somebody would always have your back. With Mark and his friends, you couldn’t help but watch it. 

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, grateful he’d come get you together. And quickly at that. 

“You’re my friend.”

“Mark’s your friend.”

“Yeah, but Mark’s a dickhead.”

You snickered. “Amen to that.”

Johnny was the middleman between you and Mark’s individual friend groups. After an incident dating back all the way to your senior year in high school, your former friend group of nine was split in two. You, Jeno, and Jaehyun on one side, with Mark, Chungha, Haechan, and Yuta on the other. 

Johnny, the god of friendly relations that he was, managed to drift between both sides. Matter of fact, these parties of his were the whole reason you even saw the other side of the group every year. If it weren’t for Johnny wanting to maintain the peace, most of you would never be in the same room again for any purpose. 

You took a glimpse around the party. It was being held in Johnny’s sumptuous two-floor penthouse this year after the outdoor disaster that was last year's Christmas eve reunion. To say the least, hypothermia had never seemed scarier. 

Unsurprisingly, Mark still had his hands and mouth all over Jodie as they stood near the hearth, the fireplace decorated in limestone. Chungha was marveling at Johnny's case of precious stones and cabochon gems. Off to your right, Haechan had his face set in a scowl. 

“Haechan looks happy to be here,” you quipped with total sarcasm.

Johnny didn’t even spare Haechan a glance, like he already knew what he’d see if he looked, and chuckled. “Yeah, we got into a tiny argument a few minutes back. He’ll be fine.”

That piqued your curiosity, but you didn’t press. Haechan always went looking for trouble and Johnny stopped it before it could even happen. Of course Haechan disliked that. 

The elevator dinged, revealing a fashionably late Jeno. Johnny noticed and glanced at you, saying, “I’ve got to greet our favorite guest. Thanks for coming, by the way.”

You shot him an amused grin. “I came for you, but I’m staying for the margaritas.”

Johnny shook his head and laughed. After asking him to tell Jeno that you said hello, the two of you went your own separate ways. 

For a little bit, you went to mingle, but you realized quickly that there weren’t a lot of people you were keen on having a conversation with. Jeno, your best friend, was with Johnny. That left Jaehyun, Johnny’s stepbrother, but you knew he preferred to be left alone. 

Mark obviously wasn’t an option. Even if he knew you better than anyone in the room. 

In spite of knowing you wouldn’t be there long, you made small talk with Jaehyun for a couple of minutes before he got an apparently urgent text message on his phone and excused himself apologetically. 

To where, you had no fucking clue. This was your first time in Johnny’s penthouse regardless of how close you were. You spent very little time in the city and even less at your own home. It was a blessing you hadn’t missed one of these parties yet. 

Maybe a curse. To be frank, you didn’t want to be here, but that had almost everything to do with Mark. Bringing Jodie along to an annual reunion for friends was low, even for him. But you kind of wished you had somebody to keep you company like he did. 

You exhaled your feelings and pretended that they didn’t bother you. Your mother told you a long time ago that the only person you’d ever be able to depend on was yourself and though she had her own set of parenting  complications, it was the best advice she’d ever given you. 

Speaking of advice, Johnny’s was starting to appear way too appetizing and you made a beeline for the kitchen, slipping past Yuta who was apparently on the phone. Those infamous mango margaritas were calling your name. 

When you entered the hallway, turning around the corner from the dining room, you almost immediately retreated. You almost told Johnny that you couldn’t be here for another minute. But Mark noticed you and it was too late. He would immediately know what was going on and take it as a surrender. 

“Look who decided to come,” Mark said sharply, a greeting of his own in some twisted way. “I bet you were hoping to see a fruity cocktail.”

“Yes, and you’re standing in my way,” you spat, gesturing to the cabinets behind you. 

Mark furrowed a brow. “You aren’t going to take one that’s already there?”

You looked at him like he had fifteen heads. Those could’ve easily been spiked with any substance. “Mark, half the people in this house hate each other. I love margaritas, but I love my life way more. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Mark scooted out of your way, though only because he knew the bounds of your survival. It was all that you knew.  

You reached around, grabbing ingredients from various places. All the while, Mark stood there, hating how unbothered you were. He was desperate to get a reaction out of you and would go to great lengths to get what he was searching for. 

His eyes were fixed to your frame and the green sequin gown hugging it tightly. There was a long slit running down the side that Mark clocked before you turned to face the counter, offering a delicious view of one of your perfect legs. When his eyes lifted from your beautiful curves, he noticed the dress was backless. 

Fuck, you were still gorgeous. Worst of all, you were still exactly everything he imagined and wanted. The girl of his dreams. 

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you,” Mark admitted, staring daggers into your back.

You rooted in place with shock at the blurted confession, hands on a bottle of tequila, wondering if he had any liquor in his system making him a little more blunt than he should’ve been. 

Until Mark finished, “Because if anyone’s going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”

The flutter in your chest immediately settled back into exasperation. Mark wasn’t afraid of having an altercation with you and he knew he could get away with it without suspicion. Given the bad blood between your respective friend groups, occasional animosity was to be expected. 

Plus it wasn’t like it was still some grave-bound secret. It also wasn’t as if you never saw the glares Haechan threw your way. 

You recovered with a roll of your eyes, turning to him and snapping, “How long are you going to hate me?”

“As long as it takes,” Mark growled, parading out of the kitchen before you could get another word in. He wasn’t prepared to argue yet, but he refused to let you have the last word. 

You shook your head in contempt. Mark wasn’t just your former lover, but the other half of you, regardless of how corny it sounded. You knew he could hold a grudge until the day he was six feet under. As long as it takes. For what, you had no clue. 

Finishing up the cocktail, you cleaned up behind yourself and prepared to head back out to the party, though made a last-minute decision to linger in the kitchen. You were irritated and you weren’t in the mood to socialize or see Mark again until your system had a little liquor. 

A few moments afterwards, Jeno bounced into the kitchen eagerly, grinning from ear to ear like he knew that he’d find you here. As if to sell your suspicions, he greeted, “Found you. And it only took eight seconds.”

You chuckled, sipping from your glass. Though you already knew the answer, you humored him, asking, “How’d you find me?” 

“Easy. I just followed the tequila.”

“Me and tequila do go way back,” you replied, smiling at the memories. Some good, some… unspeakable. You gestured to your glass. “Want one?”

Jeno shook his head. “No thanks. I’m good.”

You gasped dramatically and joked, “What, are you pregnant?”

“No way. I’m a complete virgin.”

You burst out laughing. “You’re a complete fucking lie.”

Jeno looked like he couldn’t even take himself seriously. Then, he shifted the topic, mentioning, “I saw Mark storm out of here. That also was a hint as to your whereabouts.”

You fought a grimace, deciding nonchalance was key. “We talked for the first time in two months. Since the breakup.”

“How did that go?”

“Take a wild fucking guess,” you mumbled, the memory making you wince and take another generous sip. 

Jeno grimaced. “Yeah, he didn’t look too happy. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, though you weren’t certain. Your heart still raced a little when Mark was close enough. But a familiar pain always followed in its wake. 

Jeno gave you a knowing look, but said nothing. Both of you were distracted by the sound of footsteps, noticing Johnny and Jodie cruising down the hallways. From the looks of it, he was giving her a tour. She was giving Johnny heart eyes.

You arched a brow in curiosity, while Jeno appeared amused. To the average outsider, Johnny looked content as ever, but you and Jeno recognized him with dwindling patience. 

“This party’s getting interesting,” Jeno commented, eyes darting down the hall with interest. 

You nodded in agreement. “It’s already a step up from last year.”

There were painful flashbacks flickering behind Jeno’s eyes. “Damn right. As soon as I stepped into the lobby, all I could feel was warm air.”

You snickered. “Johnny doesn’t repeat mistakes. He hates it.”

“You really know Johnny.”

You noticed that Jeno’s eyes were already on you when you glanced up to look at him. “We dated. You know that.”

“For your mother’s sake,” Jeno replied. 

That was true. She was practically begging you to bring a guy home. Not because she was eager to have grandchildren (though the time would come where she’d start pressing you for an heir), but because having an affluent partner would make you look better, which would thus make the company look better. 

It was before Mark. The bad blood aside, he wasn’t exactly the type of person your mother approved of you being seen with. Mark was a rapper. Johnny, on the other hand, came from a lineage of prominent wealthy businessmen. 

In a weird way, it kind of made sense how the group separated. There was you, whose father was the chairman of an oil company, Jeno, whose father was the chief executive of a private equity investor, and Johnny and Jaehyun, whose mother was an entrepreneur, but Johnny was chosen to take over the business while Jaehyun was stuck with real estate. 

Then there were Mark’s friends. Chungha, who was a successful model and influencer. Yuta, a popular soccer player. And Haechan was the product of two fierce attorneys, but he obviously had no intention of following in his parents’ footsteps. 

Johnny was everything your mother wanted you to be with and to appease her, you dated him for a few months. And you were grateful. He helped you learn new things about yourself and how you navigated relationships. You were never in love with him, but you’d always love Johnny. 

Your heart still wanted Mark. You didn’t know what love was until you fell for Mark. 

“Yes. It was strictly business,” you confirmed, thinking nothing of it. This wasn’t news. Jeno knew you well enough. 

Jeno nodded in approval. “I’m gonna go take a look around the house. This is my first time coming over.”

At least you weren’t the only one. “Have fun. I’m gonna find some food. I’m hungry.”

Jeno told you that he’d see you later, then dipped. Meanwhile, you went around the corner to the dining room, finding plenty of food and wanting to dig in. You didn’t trust half of the guests here enough to eat unsupervised dishes, but unlike the previous years, you didn’t manage to sneak in a meal beforehand. 

Yuta and Haechan ironically didn’t seem to be as wary. They were sitting beside each other, chatting over their food. Out of his friends, Mark was closest with Yuta and Haechan. Their friendship was unwavering and one of the few to stand the test of time. In a way, they were like a trio of brothers. 

You subtly took glances at them. Haechan looked more buoyant and cheerful than earlier. Definitely not in the mood to poison anyone’s food. And Yuta, though you weren’t necessarily close anymore, still seemed like the Yuta you used to know. Before the incident ruined you for the worse.

Haechan couldn’t be any more different. He was the same spoiled little brat, you supposed, but he wasn’t shy about his disdain towards you. And the rest of your friends. If it weren’t for the fact that Johnny was just so goddamn likable, you were certain Haechan wouldn’t come. 

At least you weren’t on their radar for now. Neither of them seemed to be fazed by your presence. Thank god, you thought to yourself, glimpsing across the dining room. There were mistletoes hanging from here to there. You could hear typical holiday music from down the hall. 

It was a good sign at the very least. You were just paranoid and not having Mark to discreetly meet in a bathroom for a quickie forced you to confront the dark essence of these parties. With Mark, the feeling was still there, but at least you could convert it into tension of a sexual nature. 

You still remembered what it was like. Betting kisses on how many minutes of alone time you had before the others noticed you were coincidentally both missing. Those sweet nothings you’d whisper in his ear to coax him towards climax quicker. 

And they would work. Every fucking time. There was nothing like watching his face immediately tense with pleasure at those words and watching his orgasm consequently wreck through his utter being like a freight train. 

You chuckled at the thought. It was too fucking easy, but boy, Mark could fuck. 

Your thoughts wondered again. To Mark, and to Jodie. Did he fuck her, or was he merely using her as a pawn in this little game of his?

You wouldn’t be surprised. On top of his exigency for attention and demand for total adoration, Mark was fucking spiteful. He was the pettiest dude you’d ever met and would go to the ends of the earth and back simply to make a point. 

A few more glances around the dining area and you decided that there was nothing for you there, returning to the solace of Johnny’s marble kitchen. Thinking about your stupid ex made you lose your appetite. 

If you made it back home for Christmas tomorrow, there would be a full-course dinner with your relatives anyways. You used to hope that you’d be able to bring Mark to one of those holiday banquets, though you’d be delusional to think it’d be anything other than a complete fiasco. 

Hell, the only lover of yours to survive meeting your mother was Johnny, and that was because you didn’t know a single person who could possibly dislike him at all. 

To your surprise, a spine-chilling gunshot rang out somewhere down the hallway, jolting you out of your brief abstraction. 

“Fuck!” cried Johnny’s voice, startled. You knew immediately that something was wrong. Johnny, at least on the outside, was never afraid. 

Not since that night. 

You marched straight for the living room and the echoes of several pairs of hurried footsteps said that everybody was on the same page. Though you could’ve swore the gunshot came from here, when you got to the living room, everyone was there except for Johnny. 

No, Jodie wasn’t there either. You would know, because she’d be clinging to Mark’s arm right about now, like a child to their mother’s bosom in a grocery store.

Johnny stumbled out of the lounge with no apparent injuries, but an inscrutable look on his handsome face. 

Jaehyun was the first to ask, “What happened?”

“Jodie,” Johnny said emotionlessly, pointing to the lounge. “She’s dead.”

Nobody moved. You instinctively glanced to Mark, wondering what his reaction would be, but his face didn’t move a fucking inch. 

“Is that what that gunshot was for?” Yuta pressed. 

Johnny shook his head and replied, “No, the gunshot was for me. Somebody tried to shoot me from the overlook upstairs, but missed by an inch. I ran into the lounge for shelter, but found Jodie there instead.”

The bullet in the wall by a lamp was enough proof that Johnny wasn’t lying. One of his guests standing before him now tried to take him out. 

There was a familiar unsettling sensation burning through your gut like a gunshot wound to the abdomen. The room devolved into its own breed of silent chaos, but you could tell from everybody’s faces and guarded postures that the same thought was flickering behind your eyelids.

Mark finally expressed a pinch of anger in his tone, stating in confusion, “I only heard one gunshot.”

“That’s because she wasn’t shot,” Johnny replied coolly, running a hand through his hair. “She was butchered.”

Well, that sure didn’t paint a pretty picture. Just the thought of what you’d see if you walked into the lounge made you stiffen. You jotted down a mental note not to go in there unless absolutely necessary.  

You glanced up towards the overlook. It was tall and offered the perfect angle of Johnny from where you assumed he was standing, plus there was enough space between the metal bars for a bullet to fly. 

To its sides were two different hallways, both functioning as possible escape routes, but everybody got here fairly quickly. Wouldn’t anyone have noticed if someone fired a shot merely seconds before gathering here?

Your arms were folded across your chest and your face was fixed in a line to hide your fear. There was no room for it with this crowd of people. “You didn’t see anyone?”

“I looked up and they were only a sliver.”

Chungha didn’t look too happy. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“As if it’s ever that easy with us,” Jeno retorted. 

Johnny quickly shot the idea down. “Nobody’s coming in or out of my house until I know who did this. If you want to try me, be my guest.”

You weren’t keen on being cooped up in this house for only god knows how long with people who were as good as strangers (especially now that bodies were dropping), but you didn’t plan on disobeying either, even if Johnny’s threat did little to intimidate you. 

Johnny knew you. He knew you deep down. If Mark weren’t there, standing only a couple of feet shy of you, you would confidently say that he knew you better than anyone else in this room. But it was Mark who had seen all your ugly. 

Haechan irritably groaned. “Then, what’s the plan, tough guy?”

“Well, we can start with placing you all outside of the scene. What’s your alibi?” Johnny asked. 

Haechan didn’t take kindly to being accused, as evident in his tone when he hissed, “I was in the dining area with Yuta, eating. Our plates are still on the table.”

Johnny glanced at Yuta, who subsequently nodded to confirm that it was true. Plus you could still hear their chatter from around the corner when you were in the kitchen. Their alibi was rock-solid. 

“I was coming out of the downstairs bathroom when I heard the gunshot,” Jaehyun said, glimpsing around. 

Nobody countered him, and Johnny seemed to trust him, all things considered. They may not have shared blood, but they were brothers. 

You rubbed your temple. “I was in the kitchen.”

“I was in the den,” Mark claimed, holding his arm. You could see the slightest shift in his carefully constructed demeanor. “I saw Chungha coming from the back of the hall, so it wasn’t her.”

Chungha said nothing. She was warily glaring holes through the skin of everyone around her. Chungha was a sweetheart and never thought badly of you after the split-up, but she refused to let others get too close, and you honestly respected it. 

You were the same way. Skeptical of everybody that crossed your path and kept a tight-knit circle of buddies. After what’d you seen and done, there was no such thing as being too safe. 

Jeno huffed, “I was just walking around. I would’ve asked Johnny for a tour, but he was a little… preoccupied.”

Jeno didn’t elaborate and nobody asked him to, but you knew exactly what he meant, and you telepathically exchanged the same thought when you made eye contact for the briefest of seconds. It was odd that only seconds prior, Johnny and Jodie were walking together. Now Jodie was dead and somebody tried to shoot Johnny?

“Let’s not waste precious time. It’s obviously Jeno,” Haechan snapped, glare cutting through his enemy like a blade. 

Jeno frowned, offended. “Why me?”

Haechan’s face was tense with frustration. “You know why.” 

“Stop,” Johnny told them sternly, stopping the action before it could accelerate too quickly to be controlled. “We’re all adults here and we’re going to handle this like adults. If you have proof, by all means, share. If you don’t know for certain, then keep it to yourself.”

Unsatisfied, Jaehyun crossed his arms and asked, “So what now? We just continue on as if there isn’t a killer on the loose?”

“Yep.”

Jaehyun sighed in distress, but he didn’t go against Johnny. 

The eight of you separated quickly, scattering about Johnny’s large house. He seemed to be aware that nothing would happen if you all remained together. 

Getting everybody alone upped the stakes. The perpetrator would be more tempted to act. And you needed them to make a mistake. 

At least for now, you decided to remain on the first floor where you were already familiar with your surroundings. In spite of being the obvious attack zone of the killer, you were comfortable here. 

On your way out of the living room, you noticed some of the group assembling into pairs. Unsurprisingly, Johnny and Jaehyun were together. As were Haechan and Chungha. It was a powerful method, but you preferred to be alone. That way there were less distractions. 

You also had no reason to view yourself as a target, though that made you ask yourself the glaring question. Why the hell would somebody want to kill Johnny?

Ironically, the purpose of these parties was to maintain the peace. Jodie’s killer obviously had to know that killing Johnny too would’ve been quite the statement to make. 

That there was no peace when it came to the eight of you. You were composed only of death and destruction. 

You were so deep in your thoughts that you barely noticed Mark walking in front of you until you nearly crashed into him, stumbling and being caught in his open arms. “Whoa there, baby,” Mark said, holding onto you tightly. “You should really be more aware of what’s going on.”

You wrested yourself out of his hold, but in the middle of doing your damnedest to free yourself from him, your fingers accidentally traced a familiar shape in his coat pocket and you stilled in surprise. “You have a gun?”

Mark didn’t try to deny it. “Why would I go anywhere without one, baby?”

“I’m not your ‘baby,’” you hissed, stepping a comfortable distance away from him. 

Mark only hummed. His attention was on the long slit in your emerald green dress. For a second, you couldn’t believe he was blatantly checking you out, then he angled himself towards you and drew his hand to your exposed leg. 

Your eyes flitted to Mark and when his met yours, a sly little grin spread across his lips. You’d be lying if you said that his hand on your legs didn’t instinctively reactivate carnal feelings inside of you, but you dared not reveal it on your face. 

Finally, after a few seconds of scooting up your thigh, Mark found what he was looking for and purred, “Smart girl.” His hand was at your obviously occupied thigh holster, pointing out the fact that you were also armed and dangerous. “I guess this makes us even, huh?”

You didn’t realize you’d sucked in a breath. It was maddening how perfectly he knew your habits, how predictable you were. You threw his hand off and hissed, “Did you try to kill Johnny?”

“No. Did you?”

“No.”

Mark hummed, apparently believing you. Many things could be said about you depending on who you asked, but at least everybody could agree that you weren’t a killer.

You removed his hand from your thigh and straightened your posture. If the two of you had weapons, it was safe to assume that you weren’t the only ones. The gun strapped to your thigh was the only reason you weren’t totally frightened of being alone. 

Your eyes were fixed to Mark, studying him. You weren’t fond of the fact that you were met with the same level of attention, as if he was trying to make you falter under his stare. It wouldn’t be that easy. 

Breaking the silence, you told him, “I’m sorry about your piece.”

Mark didn’t look too bummed. “Didn’t care about her like that anyway.”

Yeah, that checks out. You rolled your eyes. “You never cared about anything or anyone, except for yourself.”

That response seemed to genuinely surprise Mark. “Is that what you think of me?”

You weren’t prepared to discuss your emotions with Mark and the sober part of you made the executive decision to walk away instead. The liquor had you feeling a little too honest. 

Mark, on the other hand, wasn’t done with this conversation. He grabbed your arm and demanded, “Answer me. Is that what you think of me?”

You wrested your arm out of his hold and snapped, “Just walk away, Mark. It’s what you’re good at.”

That’s rich, Mark thought, but rather than argue with you about it, he stormed off. You were unbelievable. After all he did for you, after how deeply he loved you, you seriously thought that he didn’t love you? That hurt more than he cared to admit.

You watched him walk away, bristling. It didn’t matter that he was only doing what you told him to do. He never fought for your love. He always chose himself over you. Why am I surprised?

Irritated, you made a dramatic exit of your own, wanting nothing more to do with Mark for as long as you lived. He just had to be so fucking difficult. If there wasn’t a slaughter party ongoing right now, you’d be tempted to scout for more alcohol.

At least you knew that you were right not to trust anyone. The food wasn’t spiked apparently, but your point still stood. This crowd was unpredictable and you were never truly safe together. There would always be that lingering tension in the air. 

You just wish you knew what their intent in killing Jodie and attempting to kill Johnny was. By now, you were so surrounded by death that you hardly blinked, but Jodie didn’t deserve to die. A puppet in Mark’s silly little games or not. 

As if you weren’t already totally pissed, Haechan made his way towards you and hissed, “Admit it. You’re behind all this.”

You resisted a groan and replied blandly, “I thought you said Jeno was the killer?”

“The two of you are besties. It’s not far-fetched to say that you’re in this together, all things considered.”

Rather than be offended, you were purely annoyed. You crossed your arms. “Even if that were true, that’s ridiculous. Why would I want to take out Johnny?”

“No, no, no. Johnny was Jeno’s idea. You had your eye on Jodie,” Haechan said like he had it all figured out. “I saw her corpse. The overkill? It was insane. I bet you took one look at her sucking the breath out of Mark and lost your goddamn mind.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re pulling shit out of your ass, Haechan.”

Like it was all he knew how to do, Haechan kept pushing. “Two different modus operandis usually indicate two different killers.”

“Oh, yeah? Did Daddy teach you that?” you snarled, feeling your blood pressure soaring. 

Haechan shot you a venomous glare and replied back very belligerently, “It’s not rocket science. You’re jealous. Plus you already sided with a murderer once. Why wouldn’t you do it again?”

“God, it’s been years,” you groaned, bringing your palm to your forehead. This man was a walking headache. “If you don’t like us, then fine. But that blood is on all of our hands. Pointing blood-stained fingers won’t change that.”

Haechan was practically fuming. Obviously, he didn’t like that. 

You had already started to leave, traveling a fair distance away from Haechan, but spun on your heels to give one final retort, “And for the record, Mark having Jodie tag along to make me jealous was a weak move. Tell him to try harder.”

Then, you left. You left and you didn’t look back. It was hit after hit for you, and you just couldn’t seem to catch a fucking break. Haechan literally had no reason to bother you other than to be a nuisance. His parents were lawyers. He was certain that if push came to shove, he’d have nothing to worry about. And neither would the people he cared for. 

There was no telling if you would survive the night at this point. If a bullet didn’t take your life, then stress and frustration was a sure-fire way to finish you off. 

The important question was who would be anticipating your death? 

You wanted to think that you had never been more on edge, though that would’ve been a bold-faced lie. And an insult to your body’s self-preservation effectiveness. You were far from weak and if you were intent on survival, there was nothing or nobody that would stand in your way. 

In an attempt to abate the tension, you made a beeline for the in-door elevator. Hopefully before any other unwelcome visitors could try to snake their way into your path. 

When the elevator dinged, you were surprised to see Jeno. “Where are you headed?” you asked. 

Jeno retorted, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

You snickered and slipped beside him. Finally somebody whose company didn’t piss you off. “Second floor. Obviously.”

Jeno stepped out of the elevator, but extended his hand to keep the door from closing, scanning the bottom floor for other people. Apparently, there weren’t any, because he finally said, “There’s something weird going on.”

You snorted. “Other than the death and murder? Yeah, probably. Haechan accused us of being killers.”

“No, I mean…,” Jeno trailed, taking a peak across the hallway again. “What if he’s faking it?”

“Who?”

“Johnny.”

You made a face. That wasn’t something you’d even considered and you weren’t exactly convinced now that you had. “Why would he do that?”

Jeno shrugged. “Why do people kill? He was the first one to discover Jodie. And he’s the guy that hosts these parties.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty solid reason to assume he’s not the killer. He’s literally a victim. No offense, but I don’t buy that he killed Jodie then somehow had enough time to make it look like somebody fired a shot at him,” you replied. 

“I guess,” Jeno mumbled, quietening. You were about to ask why, but you clocked Jaehyun casually strolling by.

Which meant he wasn’t with Johnny. 

Jeno cocked you one final glance and said, “People always look at the guy with his hands dirty. No one ever suspects the guy with his hands behind his back.”

Then, he recouped his hand and disappeared behind the elevator doors. In a time that it took you to blink, he was gone so quickly you could’ve imagined his presence. 

And now you were thinking. If Johnny were alone, who knew what he was up to, but in the same vein, that could’ve just made him more vulnerable. 

You immediately brushed the thought aside. Johnny? Vulnerable? Pfft. This guy taught you everything you knew about how to survive and it was only thanks to his valor and self-preservation skills that you were even breathing. 

The elevator dinged again and this time the doors made a little narrow opening for you to walk through. It was your first time on the second floor of Johnny’s luxurious penthouse and the very first thing you did was monitor the new environment. 

Few people apparently. Everything just seemed so normal and there was hardly anything out of place. You could faintly hear the Christmas songs still blasting from the speakers downstairs. 

You crept just down the hall, pausing at the overlook. The place where the gunshot was fired. You gripped the rails, scanning the ground below. In the corner of your eye, you noticed Chungha sneaking about, but she was gone just as quickly. 

The killer had to have been lithe. These little metal bars were thin and did little to conceal your frame. For Johnny to have barely seen them, you could only liken them to a thief in the night.

The problem was that literally everybody fit that description. There was no person that you could rule out, because you each had the capacity. If not the motive, then the means. 

That was why you couldn’t wrap your head around it. Your lone brain couldn’t fathom the devastation plaguing this group and you decided that you wouldn’t even try. With a little breath, you turned and searched for the fitness center.

It wasn’t difficult to find. All you had to do was narrow down your options, taking peeks through windows and quickly discerning that they weren’t your final destination. After some trial and error, you found your way to the massive gym area. 

According to the sign, and a conversation you’d overheard earlier during the party (before all hell broke loose), just around the corner was a soccer simulator. 

Somebody was already inside when you pushed the door open to enter. You bashfully waved your hand. “Thought I’d find you here.”

Yuta looked surprised to see you, but he only wore it on his face for a split second. “Stalker, much?”

“Nah. I just thought, ‘if I was a famous soccer player, where would I go?’ And this was the first place that came to mind.”

Yuta snickered. “Predictable. That’s a character flaw, I guess.”

A tiny laugh escaped your lips. Honestly, you were just glad that you even felt comfortable enough to joke around with Yuta, even if it was meaningless. Haechan was praying for your downfall and Chungha didn’t socialize with outsiders, but Yuta was thankfully normal. 

He didn’t seem to mind your presence either. The large screen glaring at you in a violently blue hue was definitely on, but Yuta’s eyes appeared elsewhere. He finally said, “This gang and parties don’t mix too well, huh?”

“I think not,” you retorted, crossing your arms in amusement. Staying detached from the darkness was the only way you could stay sane. “Somebody always ends up dying at one of them.”

Yuta took a seat in a nearby chair and kicked his feet up on another one beside him pensively. “Sworn enemies with an axe to grind in the same room under the guise of ceasing rivalry one day out of the entire year. I could’ve told you guys how that was gonna end.”

I could’ve, too, you said to yourself, a billion thoughts like a downpour in your head. It was why you never left your house unarmed and hesitated to eat food you didn’t make. 

Because you were protecting yourself. Just like everybody else in this house. 

“Well, it’s not a shock,” you replied in agreement. “We do enough damage on our own, but together? It’s all we’re capable of.”

Yuta fought a frown. “I feel bad for that Jodie girl. I’m sure you’re aware Mark was definitely using her, but she didn’t deserve to be dragged into our sick hell.”

Those pictures of her slaughtered body were flickering in your head again. It haunted you, and you hadn’t even seen her corpse. “Everybody that comes near us gets burned.”

Yuta’s demeanor shifted noticeably, brooding. “I feel guilty. Yet when Johnny told us she died, all I could think was ‘at least it’s not my fault this time.’ Is that wrong?”

His sudden vulnerability surprised you, considering Yuta wasn’t the type to randomly express his feelings, much less to you. You immediately put your hand on his shoulder in comfort and said, “Doyoung’s death wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know.”

Yuta shrugged. “If I had listened to my parents, if I hadn’t invited you all there, that night wouldn’t have happened. Doyoung wouldn’t be dead. And this friend group might’ve stayed in one piece.”

“Yuta, you should blame that creepy psychopathic weirdo. Not yourself.”

Yuta grimaced, as if the sole mention of that guy flung him back to a place he’d already buried. 

And you didn’t blame him. You didn’t even know the guy’s name, but you could describe him vividly. How could you not? The same pale guy in blood-stained overalls appeared in your dreams a little too often.

This little party turned bloodbath wasn’t you and your friends’ first rodeo. Matter of fact, you’d argue that the first round was a tad scarier. You still got flashbacks, so terrified for your life and everybody around you that adrenaline numbed you to the crisp, nipping autumn air. 

For his birthday prelude, Yuta invited all of you to his parents’ expensive farmhouse, sitting just on your hometown’s outskirts. It was quiet, remote. No neighbors, which seemed fun in the first half, but as the night progressed, it became a nightmare not having anyone nearby.

A birthday celebration quickly became a fight for survival, and Doyoung lost. He was one of you, still a part of you, locked away inside your heart but never forgotten.

Jeno had accidentally stabbed him with a gardening tool, thinking that he was the killer. Doyoung had come to his hiding spot desperately seeking shelter, but Jeno panickedly made a mistake that cost him his friend’s life and the trust of his others. 

That was how the friend group divided. There was the side that would never forgive him for Doyoung’s death, blaming him wholeheartedly. And then there was the side that showed him some grace. You were all frightened out of your minds that night. 

Though what Jeno did didn’t matter. You were all complicit in Doyoung’s demise, whether they wanted to admit it or not. The killer made you all finish him off, made you all bury his wounded corpse while it was still fresh. 

Your hands were still stained with dirt and blood, burning hotter every time you thought of him. 

“I blame Jeno,” Yuta seethed under his breath. 

You frowned. 

Yuta stood to his feet, unable to stay still. There was too much emotion in him now, pulling him every which way. “Every year I get whiplash from having to mourn my friend’s death anniversary then celebrate my birthday back to back. That’s unforgivable.”

Though you liked Yuta, you weren’t going to let anyone slander your best friend silently. “I understand, but it’s not just Jeno’s fault.”

Yuta chuckled. “If only you knew.”

Your brows furrowed. “What don’t I know?”

“That Jeno’s fucking obsessed with you. Always has been. We don’t hate him because he killed Doyoung. We hate him because we think he killed Doyoung for you.”

Your lips parted soundlessly, flabbergasted. 

Yuta read the confusion on your face plain as day and continued, “Think about it, sugar. Doyoung had a crush on you. That was everybody’s business. And it’s Doyoung who Jeno accidentally stabs out of all people?”

You couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t like you hadn’t turned down Jeno’s advances once before, but he was so fucking chill. You could’ve forgotten that it even happened. There wasn’t a single thing in your friendship that felt out of place. 

Plus he knew firsthand that you were head over heels for Mark only, even if you didn’t want to be anymore. It was pathetic. Yuta had just told you another guy was willing to go to lethal lengths to keep you away, and yet one of your first thoughts was how painstakingly you loved Mark. 

But Mark hated you. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said, the lines between fiction and reality beginning to blur. 

Yuta relaxed. He could tell there was a lot going on in your head, because he recognized the conflict akin to the one warring within himself. “It’s dead.”

You appreciated that. Fuck’s sake, Mark and his friends usually liked to push until there was nowhere else to go. And then some. Your thoughts wandered there and you opened your mouth, asking, “Why are you nice to me?”

“I’m not nice to you,” Yuta replied, making you blink. “I just treat you like a regular human being. There’s a difference.”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t done anything for me not to.”

You shook your head. “Mark wouldn’t agree,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. 

Yuta glanced at you. You were letting your guard down around him, something he was certain you probably hadn’t even done with Mark tonight. “Fuck Mark. He’s been lying to himself. And to be frank, I think he’s deluded himself.”

Your eyes were cold when you looked into Yuta’s. “Elaborate.”

“I mean, he wants to convince us and the whole world that he hates you and he’s moved on, but he hasn’t even convinced himself. You were his everything, man. Mark hasn’t been the same since the breakup. I want my friend back.”

I want my lover back. But Mark used to be your friend, too. A healthy blend of friendship and romance that made your love for each other feel depthless. 

If only you knew back then that your love would be tested. Would you have still sacrificed every piece of yourself to make him happy if you knew that it still wouldn’t be enough?

“I hope you have a wonderful Christmas tomorrow,” you told Yuta after a long pause, a telltale sign that you were leaving and had no more room for conversation. 

“If I make it to tomorrow,” Yuta retorted playfully. “Likewise. Merry Christmas.”

You smiled at him on your way out in a final goodbye. You only wanted one thing for Christmas, and that was to have Mark back in your arms. Where he belonged. 

For a good minute, you meandered about the hallways, cautiously monitoring your surroundings to make sure no one was trailing you. You considered heading to the den for refuge, but Mark obviously liked it there, and you’d had enough run-ins for one night. 

Instead, you opted for the in-door pool, where obviously nobody was. In front of you stood a long line of water with a set of hot tubs off to the side. It was the perfect place to clear your head without having to constantly check if there was someone out to get you. 

Before you could slightly relax, you scanned the room and clocked two exits. If you couldn’t get out of the main exit for whatever reason, there was always the option of the backup door. With that pressure off your shoulders, you took off your heels and sank your feet in the pool. 

Dangling your feet in the water, your mind began to race, hopping from one thought to another at a pace too painful for you to keep up with. You hated being this way. Always having to keep an eye out, never fully trusting anybody. Mark was the only person that you could turn your back to and confidently believe you’d be fine. 

Once upon a time, he was your safe haven, and now you weren’t sure if you could even trust him anymore. For all you knew, he could’ve been behind all this. 

It hurt to think of what you should’ve been, of the happy, oblivious couple you were only months earlier. The couple that didn’t go to bed angry or sleep in different rooms, too stubborn to spend the night beside each other. There was no problem the two of you couldn’t sort out back then. 

You started to wonder if Yuta was right about everything he said. First of all, Jeno didn’t kill Doyoung. It wasn’t that quick. He attacked him first, but you all had Doyoung’s blood on your hands. Literally. 

You only wished you could’ve seen Yuta’s point of view. Jeno was admittedly happy when you and Mark finally broke up, though you figured it was because he didn’t want to see you suffer, not because he wanted you to be with him instead. 

Worst of all, Yuta told you that Mark still wasn’t over you. And you hated it. If you wanted Mark and Mark wanted you, then why weren’t you together?

Then, you remembered. The lack of compatibility that burned your happy home together down to a crisp. Things failed because Mark wanted to conquer. You refused to be taken. What made him feel ignored made you feel free. What made you feel inhibited made him feel secure. When he started to feel unwanted, he pushed you away. 

Your love was a slow burn till the end. All of those years of pining for each other turned into you pining away from heartbreak, eating your heart out for a boy you were destined to never have at all.

You hated knowing that you and Mark would’ve never worked out whether you dated or not. Maybe because you knew that if you didn’t have Mark, then you had no one. It simply wasn’t written in the stars. 

Mark was the only one who knew your biggest fears. Your motivations. He knew firsthand the irreversible impact Doyoung’s death had on the rest of your life, because you confided only in him about the shame. You weren’t scared of being naked with Mark. He saw the ugliest bits of you and it wasn’t what sent him running. 

It was hard to explain to anybody that wasn’t there, but nothing was the same after Doyoung died. Thanks to your parents’ status, you were already used to being careful, but it was nothing like the girl you were after fighting for survival. It was your first time fighting for anything. 

Every inch of you was alive and awake, perpetually on fight mode. Mark wasn’t just the sole place where you could exist peacefully; he understood your trauma and loved you with every fiber of his being in spite of it. 

That was why you couldn’t be with any other guy. How could you explain those nights when you woke up screaming in terror? Mark didn’t ask questions. He just held you and told you that you were safe in his arms. 

If you couldn’t have Mark, then you knew you were meant to die alone. 

The sound of a door pushing open made you immediately stand up, preparing to take off without your heels. They would only slow you down anyways. You saw Mark enter and, rather than cool down, your stiff muscles were overloaded with apprehension. 

“I have an idea and I’m prepared to argue with you about it,” were the first words to come out of Mark’s mouth, speaking before you could dare to, as if he knew you’d have something to say. 

You played it cool, though your heartbeat was harshly thudding in your ears. “What do you want now?”

Mark took your tone in stride. “We should travel in pairs. As they say, safety in numbers.”

Your face tensed in disgust. “And why in the hell would I want to travel with you?”

Mark didn’t skip a beat. “Because if I’m the killer, you’re the only one that stands a chance against me.”

You folded your arms. Mark almost grinned looking at you, but resisted. It was like your favorite pose ever. “I thought you said you didn’t kill Jodie?”

“Technically, I said that I didn’t try to kill Johnny,” Mark answered, a sly smile on his lips. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone anymore,” you replied coolly. Not after you broke it. And me. 

“Good. You don’t trust me and I don’t trust you. We don’t have reasons to. But let’s at least be forward with our intentions here,” Mark said, stepping closer. “I intend to survive. And you?”

“I intend to survive as well,” you asserted. 

Mark added forthrightly, “And we’ll do anything to live, even if it means killing someone else for our own sake. We’re not strangers to sacrificing other people for our benefit.”

You heaved a breath and groaned impatiently, “So what? This is some truce or something?”

“Or something,” Mark replied with enough uncertainty to make you overwhelmingly suspicious. “We’d just be working together. Who says that you have to trust me?”

You hated that you were seriously considering it, but he was making a pretty decent point. It was stupid to be by yourself. You had to admit it, even as somebody that valued her independence like it was your lifeline. 

Mark recognized you in conflict with yourself, even as you tried your hardest to appear neutral. After all those years spent by each other’s side, he guessed it was simply natural. Your bottom lip stuck out, though only slightly. You were giving it your best shot at keeping composed. 

You weighed the pros and cons in your head. If you didn’t pair with Mark, you would be more vulnerable, but if you did, it would be increasingly difficult to ignore having to confront the whirlwind of feelings he left you to soak in. 

You didn’t want that, but it wasn’t like you wanted to die either. Finally, after a moment of contemplation, you relented. “Fine.”

Satisfied, Mark grinned victoriously. “Two heads are better than one.”

That was what you used to think. It used to be enough to simply look into Mark’s eyes, knowing that he was there. Now you couldn’t stand to be beside him. “Not when they’re bumping into each other,” you grumbled. 

Mark cocked a brow. “Then, let’s not make this about us. Let’s focus on survival. That’s our common interest here.”

Obviously, that was easier said than done, but you didn’t argue or complain. This was a rare moment of Mark willing to set your differences aside for a better purpose. At least for now, you intended to behave. 

Plus you wanted to see how long the two of you could go before Mark started barking. He looked sweet, but if anybody thought Mark was all sugar and rainbows, they clearly hadn’t met him. This boy was all fire. 

And you were air; gentle as a featherlight, ocean breeze, but capable of roaring like a tornado if provoked. Forceful enough to spread his flames out further, but not to blow them out. Mark was untameable. You had that in common. 

It sounded corny, but it was the truth. You bettered one another in some ways, but enabled one another in others. Your similarities seemed to work against you, neither of you wanting to set your pride aside. 

That was the problem. If you pushed, Mark pushed back harder. If Mark screamed, you screamed back louder. It was like a fucking seesaw that you couldn’t get off of. 

Rationally, an important question kept prodding at your ribcage. “How did you even find me?” you asked. 

“I had to look everywhere,” Mark said, slight exasperation in his tone. “I knew you wouldn’t be out in the open, so it was just a matter of finding out where you were hiding.”

You nodded. That would have to be a satisfactory response. You weren’t going to press him about it. “Okay, but if we’re going to be a team, we need to try and figure out who’s killing and what’s going on.”

Mark bobbed his head. “Yeah, I know. Have you been seeing anything suspicious lately? I noticed Jaehyun creeping out like he’s got something to hide.”

Your brows furrowed. “Seriously? I did too. When I was talking to Jeno in the elevator. Chungha looked a little suspicious, too.”

Mark obviously didn’t expect that. “You’re kidding. You know how Jaehyun said that he was downstairs when the gun went off?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I saw Jaehyun coming from down the hall, where I also noticed Chungha come from. She came after him, but it looked timed. Kinda like how we used to leave at different times so nobody would think we were together.”

The mention of those times sent you back, perfectly calculating the ideal time to exit the same room without raising suspicions amongst your friends and foes. 

Bidding the thoughts to go away, you quickly recovered, mentioning, “That’s odd. I don’t know if it’s connected, but earlier when I was talking to Jaehyun, he excused himself to go upstairs.”

“Before the gun went off?” Mark asked, skeptical. 

You leaned down to fix the strap of your heel, which you’d slipped back on after you realized the intruder was only Mark, discerning that he was no threat. “Yeah, somebody texted him. From the face he was making, it looked urgent. I just assumed one of his relatives messaged him and he went to god knows where upstairs to take a call.” 

Mark shook his head in disapproval. Disappointment, maybe. “They’re in cahoots, that’s for sure.”

You pressed, “But why in the hell would Jaehyun and Chungha be working together? They’re not even on the same side.”

“Motives to kill,” Mark sighed, face twisted cutely in thought. It was so stressful pretending that you weren’t attracted to every little thing he did. His eyes widened a little and he said, “Wait.”

“Hm?”

“It’s common knowledge that when Johnny’s mom died, she left him to take over the family business, while Jaehyun got stuck with real estate…,” Mark trailed.

You quickly noticed where this was going and added, “Jaehyun always wanted to be the chief executive. Ever since we were teenagers, it was all he talked about.”

Mark tapped his chin. “I still remember what it was like. I couldn’t tell if he was more depressed about his stepmother dying, or not inheriting her multimillion dollar business.”

“You think he’s still holding that grudge?”

Mark shrugged. “Who knows?”

You subconsciously scratched your forearm. You didn’t realize, but Mark did. It was something you often did when you were anxious, which was basically all of the time. “Chungha’s been paying an awful lot of attention to Johnny’s jewelry case.”

“She likes anything bright and shiny,” Mark responded, thinking nothing of it. “Why? You think she stole something?”

You shrugged your shoulders and replied, “I think anything’s possible, but I don’t think it’s worth killing over. I mean, she’s not just rich. She’s wealthy. She can afford her own diamonds.”

Trying to figure those two out was like attempting to unravel the identity of Jack the Ripper. Jaehyun was composed and Chungha was vigilant. Their guarded natures combined made them both mysterious and lethal. 

Mark couldn’t wrap his head around it, either. But he was certain that those two were up to no good. “Well, we’ve got their motives. Let’s try to think of the others.”

“Johnny told me he and Haechan got into an argument before the party. He looked pretty pissed earlier,” you recalled. 

“Yeah, I picked up on that, too,” Mark said. When a guy who sent earthquakes wherever he went was agitated, it was impossible for the whole world not to notice. 

“Speaking of holding grudges,” you started, gathering any pieces you could find and linking them with each other. “Johnny left Yuta at that shack and because of it he got an injury that almost cost him soccer.”

Mark didn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, but Yuta’s been playing soccer just fine for years now. Plus he told Johnny to leave to find that weapon.”

“The reasoning doesn’t have to make sense to anybody but the killer.”

Mark was silent for a long time, cautiously contemplating. “What about Jeno?”

You were irked at the mention of your best friend, but knew that nobody was totally off the table. Not even yourself. You played innocent. “What about him?”

Mark exhaled a breath, but laughed. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re playing dumb, or if you’ve truly never noticed how much Jeno’s into you. You can’t seriously think him attacking Doyoung was an accident.”

Yuta had already brought you up to speed on the whole jealousy killer Jeno theory between Mark and his pals, which you were none too convinced about. “If Jeno’s the killer, I don’t understand what he’d get out of killing Johnny or Jodie. By your logic, that means you should be dead. Not your girlfriend.”

“Maybe Johnny likes you.”

“Ignoring the ridiculousness of that statement…” 

Mark interjected before you could continue, “Is it so ridiculous? You and Johnny dated, and it was your decision to break things off. You were never in love with him, but have you ever considered that maybe Johnny loved you?”

You hadn’t really considered it, you always assumed Johnny knew he was doing you a favor and it was nothing more or less, but that didn’t stop you from snapping, “Jeno knows where I stand with Johnny. That I was never in love with him. Why would he kill a man that isn’t a threat?”

“Did you like Doyoung back?”

“No,” you hissed. 

Mark shot, “And you don’t see him walking around here, do you? You said it yourself: the reasoning doesn’t have to make sense to anybody but the killer.”

“I think that says more about the faultiness of your theory than mine.”

Mark opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. 

You sneered, “And are you seriously going to ignore the fact that Jodie was killed? Carved out like a pumpkin. That sounds like something only somebody with a lot of rage for her would do.”

Mark was losing patience, you could tell from the look on his face. “Are you implying that I killed her?”

“I’m not implying a damn thing. But you were pretty nonchalant over the fact that you got an innocent girl killed,” you replied, definitely insinuating that he was responsible. “Outside of being tainted by your touch, that is.”

“Maybe you did it,” Mark snapped. 

You rolled your eyes. This was the second time you’d gotten this accusation today and you weren’t keen on hearing it again, but Mark was already yapping before you could tell him not to bother. 

“You couldn’t stand to see me with a girl that wasn’t you,” he said, a turmoil of wildfire dancing in his pupils. “So you got rid of her.”

You threw your head back and grunted, “Oh, fuck’s sake. Get over yourself.”

“Get over me,” Mark hissed. “We’ve been over for months. It was never gonna work, you know? Everything’s sunshine and rainbows during the honeymoon phase.”

“Fuck you,” you seethed, turning away and heading for the door. You didn’t know why you thought he was capable of having a civil conversation with you. So much for not making this about us. 

Mark grabbed your arm, glaring at you in disapproval. “I’m sorry, was this too much pressure for you? You couldn’t handle the heat and now you’re walking away again?”

You screamed, “You pushed me away!”

“Because you pushed me first,” Mark yelled, matching your energy. Matter of fact, what you gave, he doubled it and handed it back tenfold. And vice versa. 

Running your hands down your face, you wanted to scratch your skin off with your nails. “Dude. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about all those times you made me feel like you didn’t want me. All those times you left me alone without a reason why. You got so distant on me, baby. Really had me wondering if there was somebody else.”

Somebody else? You couldn’t believe he was serious. Your heart would never want anybody that wasn’t Mark, because she knew he was the only one that could satisfy her. 

Your face softened for a fraction of a second. “All I wanted was you.”

“You sure had a funny way of showing it,” Mark grumbled under his breath. 

Guilt flickered in your eyes, stinging them to crystals, but you didn’t let them fall. “I needed space. I liked being with you, but not at the expense of losing touch with my soul. I needed room to breathe.”

Mark frowned. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

You asked just as quickly, “Why didn’t you just ask?”

“It felt like a waste of time. I thought you already decided that you didn’t want me. That you were just another girl who underestimated how much attention I need.”

“Wow,” you mumbled quietly. Amused, but angry. “You fight, but for all the wrong reasons.”

Mark’s eyes flitted towards yours. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you wouldn’t fight for us to stay together, but you’ll shout in my face at literally any other given opportunity.”

Mark reined in his head, running his hands through his hair. “Listen, I’m no good at this relationship stuff.”

“I know.”

That made Mark bristle. It wasn’t just his fault, but you refused to hold yourself accountable. “You’re no expert, either.”

“I know,” you sighed, lips curled into a frown. 

Mark’s eyes flickered. 

It appeared you were finally realizing how egregiously the two of you had mutually fucked up. “We didn’t talk. And that was okay. Our problems were small enough that after we climbed into bed with each other they were long forgotten. But then they got bigger and we didn’t know what to do, other than what we’d always done.”

Mark scratched the back of his head. “But it didn’t work. The problem was still there.”

Part of the reason why you two never worked through the issue was because you failed to specifically identify the problem. Mark didn’t just want to be loved, he demanded it. And he did it by completely seizing power over your mind, body, and soul. 

Your mind in life. Your body in bed. Your soul in everything in between. 

You didn’t like to feel dominated in that way. It made you dig into your heels. Letting Mark exercise this assertive power over you, letting him have control over the tiniest piece of you that was left, it felt like a betrayal. To yourself, and to the dead.

Because you were still clinging to that girl. That girl whose hands were clear of blood and didn’t spend hours scrubbing under her nails away a stain that wasn’t really there. The girl who didn’t take that final blow to her friend’s chest and watch the light in his eyes dim until he was gone. 

It was cruel and unforgivable, but even with the hurt on Doyoung’s face, there was an understanding twinkle in his eyes. You’d seen it, for a tiny fraction of a second. Or maybe you imagined it so that it would be simpler to live with the crippling guilt. 

You were the girl he loved and the last thing he saw. Every anniversary, you swore one of the stars in the sky twinkled brighter. 

I didn’t have a choice; it was him, or all of us. What was my other option? Plus he was going to die either way. The police didn’t arrive on scene until dawn. He would have bled to his death if we didn’t finish him off. 

Mark knew he was high-maintenance and he knew the toll Doyoung’s death had on you, but he somehow never exactly pieced together how it would impact your relationship. That there would be days where you didn’t want hugs or kisses. You just wanted to be left alone.

Plus Mark was so sympathetic about everything you went through and all of your feelings to the point you assumed he would just know you needed space. Somehow you had mistaken his understandingness for being a mind reader. 

And Mark, somewhere along the line, sensed you drifting away, so he discarded you first. Mark didn’t get abandoned. It wasn’t in his nature to stick around when he knew he was on the brink of being cast aside, left high and dry. 

He wanted to be loved, but he wanted to love himself. And he was not against hurting himself, because the pain was easier to cope with than if he let somebody else hurt him.

At least he thought it would be. 

“We couldn’t just fuck and make up anymore, so we started to argue over petty things, and we never got to the core of the matter,” you said, picturing yourself back in that living room, shouting. 

Mark remembered, because it was all he’d been thinking about for months, asking himself what was the final blow in spite of being aware that he was the one who chose to break up. “Pillowtalk was the only time we really discussed our emotions. Remember?”

God, how could you not? This boy would fuck the shit out of you then snuggle you to sleep immediately after, chatting about anything under the sun (or moon) until your eyelids got too heavy and started to flutter closed. 

You simply nodded your head, unable to open your mouth. Though you both were being vulnerable, you were afraid of what you might’ve said. 

Mark chuckled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I always had these doubts about you, to be honest. You were too good to be true. Most girls get tired of me after a minute so I never stay too long, but you’ve been in my life since we were kids.”

Your eyes were sad when you glanced into his. “So why did you leave me? Why didn’t you fight?”

Mark’s eyes twinkled with regret as he whispered, “I was scared of being abandoned by the girl I loved. So I dipped. I ran before you could tell me that it was over. It gave me some kind of agency over my heartbreak.”

You laughed in disbelief. This breakup was so dramatic, and for what? “In hindsight, we’re just a pair of fucking idiots,” you said, shaking your head in disapproval. “Imagine if we just talked about this months ago. It could’ve all been so simple.”

Mark hung his head in shame, resting his hand at his nape. It would’ve spared him some pain. And so many tears. 

“I’ve spent months thinking that I don’t deserve love because of what I did that night. Because if I can’t have you, Mark, then there’s nobody else out there for me,” you told him, releasing the words you’d been holding back for eons. 

Mark blinked, processing. Then, deciding he was short of words, he said, “I’m done talking,” and smashed his lips against yours. You were surprised, but immediately molded your lips into his, feeling his hands instinctively get a hold of your hips. 

It had been a lifetime since you’d last felt his touch on your skin and to say you missed it would be an understatement. Your body felt like it was being reawakened, dormant sensations coming back to life again. 

Two star-crossed lovers, discreetly meeting each other for one final rendezvous before your individual lives inevitably drove a wedge between your passionate sparks. That, or death. For now, you were content to be in each other’s hold, kissing like it was the last time. 

As your bodies swung in each other’s embrace, you noticed Mark’s feet dancing dangerously close to the edge of the pool. “Careful,” you warned, shuffling him out of the way. “Don’t want your flames to get doused.”

Mark snickered. “Please, baby. I have enough fire for the both of us.”

“I know you do. That’s what I love about you.”

Mark’s ears perked up at that. You loved him? You didn’t know how long he had been waiting to hear you say that. And it made him remember what you told him only moments ago before his brain went blank. “I love you. Don’t ever think that you don’t deserve to be loved.”

Your chest filled with warmth, but you purred, “Or else what?”

Leaning into you, Mark nibbled at your ear a little before whispering, “Or else I’ll have to show you how much you mean to me.”

It was difficult to play nonchalant. Your heart was skipping beats now. You wanted Mark desperately and it drove you to the brink of insanity. “Oh, no. I’m so afraid.”

Mark grinned, dragged you away to a padded chaise. 

You sat there, your entire body excited, but your brain (at least for now) was still capable of thinking rationally and you asked, “Are we seriously about to fuck in a pool chair?”

“We’ve fucked in worse places and done even worse things,” Mark replied offhandedly, thinking about nothing but getting his hands on those pretty thighs of yours. 

You pressed your lips together, aware that you had little to zero grounds for argument. Bathrooms weren’t even anywhere close to the most outlandish location you and Mark had decided would be an apt backdrop for sexual intercourse. Those places were unspeakable. 

Mark took your silence as a victory and whispered silkily, “Sit back and relax, baby.”

You giggled. Mark had never left you unsatisfied. A time with this boy’s head between your legs was guaranteed to be a sacrilegiously fulfilling experience. 

Mark grabbed your left leg, draping it over the side of the chair so that he wouldn’t have to literally bend over backwards to go down on you, and when he noticed the gun poking out of your thigh holster, he laughed. “With your permission, I wanna take your gun. If it makes you feel better, I’ll set mine aside, too.”

You let him take your gun and disarm the weapon before setting it on a poolside table wedged between the chaise you were currently occupying and another. If this was some ruse to get you unarmed, Mark was simply stupid. He would’ve had way better opportunities moments prior. 

But it wasn’t. Mark was tugging your panties down your ankles, something you were certain he wouldn’t bother to do if he had murder on his mind. You usually felt naked when you were bare of a weapon, but something about Mark naturally made you relax. 

Your dress rode up above your hips, giving him complete access to your dripping pussy. Just thinking about what he was about to do to you, you swore, breathing became the most difficult chore. 

Mark took one fucking glimpse at your glistening pussy and almost howled like a goddamn wolf. Instead, the sound that emerged from the back of his throat was identical, animalistic and ravenous as if he couldn’t wait to dig into a full course. 

The comparison wasn’t far off, because as soon as he stopped staring hungrily at you in a way that made you shift, slightly self-conscious, his calloused palms were clasping your thighs tightly and his mouth was flush against your throbbing core. 

“Jesus. Fuck,” you moaned, thighs tensing already. And he just started. To be fair, it had been a couple of months since anybody’s hands - or mouth - had touched you there. You had been unable to give yourself to anybody that wasn’t Mark, which you felt like a total fool for when you saw him boo’d up with Jodie. 

And yet here you were, still letting him have his way with you, giving him the power to break you down and build you back up as he pleased. Your breaths were quick, your lips parting in a shaky exhale at every pass of his tongue against your glistening folds. 

It reminded him of the past couple of years, sneaking around to fuck in the most isolated location you could possibly find. All of those times he mounted you on a fancy bathroom counter to get his head between your thighs, or fucked you there so hard the mirrors clouded. 

All Mark knew was sex and destruction, and half of the time, those things came hand in hand. For a minute, he was more than that with you. Until you were gone and he knew he was at least partly to blame. He wanted to prove to you that he was more than your reckless lover. 

Though that would have to be put on hold. As of right now, his intentions consisted only of wrecking you.

“God, I missed the way you taste,” Mark grumbled with a mouthful of pussy. 

His voice was deep and handsome, and so sexy that you likely could’ve nutted then and there, too aroused to keep a rein on yourself. Mark had that effect on you and the worst part was that he knew it. Sex used to be a game of seduction, teasing each other for hours to see who would break first. 

Of course, you folded the better half of the time. Mark had fucking cheat codes. This boy knew your every weakness and used them to his advantage. The hell were you supposed to do when he made you watch recordings of the previous times he’d pleasured you? Not kiss the very ground that he walked on? 

Pfft. Yeah, right. Though you never went down without stating in defense, “You cheated!”

Oh, fuck Mark. He just had to be so good with his hands. And a pleaser. 

You always got your lick back, though. Mark may have won in the first half, but you knew exactly how to take him down. First, you had to make him think that he’d already won. Then, you had to return the favor, making him swear he saw stars. That was how you kept the balance. 

Mark’s tongue was expertly navigating your clit and you wanted to be mad at it, but all you could bring yourself to do was writhe in the gray chaise. Had not his hands been locking your thighs in place, you would’ve snapped them closed in sensitivity. Mark was not to be underestimated. This boy was way stronger than he seemed. 

You resigned yourself to the fact that your only option was to lie there and take it all. There was nowhere for you to escape. When it felt too good, it was a telltale warning that Mark would seize control of your whole body, and you were torn between fleeing and letting him have it. 

“Don’t try to run away from it, baby,” he whispered knowingly, though he knew you couldn’t resist the temptation of the satisfaction you were promised. “I’ve got you.”

You rolled your hips into his face in a hurried pursuit for relief, desperately wishing you had something to anchor yourself with and lower you back down to earth, but Mark had brought you to a constantly ascending high. 

Mark chuckled, because he knew he had your body down to a science. If you thought it couldn’t get anymore dangerously intense than this, you were wrong as hell and had another thing coming. Mark released one of your thighs, gathering your arousal on his sticky fingers, and fucked it right back into you. 

You gawked. You almost couldn’t believe he was making a mess out of you like this, but then you remembered that he was Mark fucking Lee. Taking your breath was what he did best. His mouth was still on you, sucking and licking, because you were the closest thing to heaven he would ever know and he couldn’t get enough. 

All the while, he thumbed your clit, making a tremble roar through your utter being and your toes clench, tucking into themselves. 

“I’m so close,” you whimpered in the tiniest voice. 

“I know,” Mark replied, pulling back. “What did you think I was doing all the extra shit for?”

You winced your eyes closed and heaved the thickest breath, attempting to regain control over your body, but to absolutely no avail. That was when you came to terms with your fate. Mark was going to finish you off. 

“You know what I want. Let go for me,” Mark whispered darkly. “Do it on my fingers.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” you chanted, feeling something tense in your belly. The pleasure blending with the yearning created a sensation unlike any other. Your whole figure was engulfed in flames, scorching you from head to doe. 

It was closing in. You could feel sin’s darkly cloaked hand reeling you in, pulling you closer and closer, and closer to the jagged edge. There was no point in struggling; you were in nature’s grasp now and whatever happened was entirely up to her. 

As someone who prided himself on his ability to please, Mark took great delight in pleasuring you and it was no shock that he knew exactly how to coax you towards climax. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Let it all go. I’ve got you.”

Finally, you started to cum, ecstasy shooting through your body every which way in the form of uncontrollable warmth, making your head feel light and your toes curl. Mark’s encouraging words became static to your ears, your senses totally overpowered, the life leaving your body for all but a split second. 

Mark was sporting the slyest of grins, watching you wind back down as if he was marveling at his own handiwork. You should’ve been singing his praises, applauding him for his grand efforts. “There you go. Good fucking girl.”

Sex was one of the most powerful weapons in Mark’s arsenal. He sucked at relationships, but he could only walk away after claiming the best nut of your life. 

After a moment or two out of the atmosphere, you came back to the ground, having just stopped tightening around Mark’s digits and shuddering involuntarily. You raised your eyes to meet his own, chest undulating. Gripping the arms of the chair for dear life. “Fuck you. You are the devil.”

Mark snickered, reluctantly recouping his fingers from between your legs. “Oh, yeah, baby. Fuck. I always loved that dirty mouth of yours.”

You rolled your eyes. He must’ve forgotten how good you were at taking back everything he stole from you and giving him damage tenfold in retaliation. Those sets of expletives would be escaping his pretty pink lips any minute now. This was only the beginning of the end. 

Throwing your leg back down, you climbed out of the chaise, standing to your feet with a little stumble. 

“Whoa there, baby. Be careful,” Mark said, grabbing a hold of your wobbling frame and holding you flush against his chest. “I’d hate it if something bad happened to you.”

God, you were weak in the fucking knees for this man. Literally. 

You grabbed Mark by his suit tie and pushed him back first onto the chaise. His eyes went wide in surprise, but he quickly recovered and grinned. “Damn, babe. I like where this is going.”

You chuckled, crawling on top of him and pulling his face into yours. Mark’s hands were below your ribs, holding you in his arms while the two of you made out for what felt like an eternity. In the best way ever. 

Mark grunted none too quietly when you felt his tight bulge pressed sharply to your core and mischievously got the clever idea to grind against it. The sound had you throbbing again, desperate to mount his cock then and there, but you were bent on teasing him at your own expense. 

The wet smack of your lips meeting only enhanced your arousal further and while you did a significantly better job at keeping composed, Mark was losing his mind by the minute. 

His hands dropped from your skin to his pants in an attempt to free his aching cock, but you were quicker, gathering his wrists in your palms and pinning them over his head. “Mm-mm. My turn, baby. Just… sit back and relax,” you mimicked, refusing to let him take the wheel. 

Mark let you have your way with him. Frankly, he would let you do whatever you pleased. 

You did the honor of unfastening Mark’s pants, pulling them and his underwear down his thighs just enough for his stiff cock to spring to attention. You licked your lips, salivating. The tension in your core got even tighter. 

Mark groaned when you pressed your lips to the head of his cock, kissing it tenderly. That understanding, patient guy was nowhere to be found when his dick was involved. Or at least when he wasn’t the giver. Instead, Mark was less than human, a voracious beast that longed to feed. 

Your tender kisses became delicate licks, neither of which provided Mark very much relief and you were aware. “Fuck. Baby,” he called out to you, hopeful that you’d quit the games soon. “Do something.”

“Something like… this?” you asked, gripping his hard cock and pumping him in your fist. Then, seconds later, you sucked him into your mouth, making all of the air flee Mark’s lungs. 

Mark immediately cursed loudly. His cock hadn’t known this amount of relief since he left you and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Little did you know, Mark hadn’t fucked anyone else since you, either. It would’ve felt like cheating, like a betrayal, even though he knew that you were over. 

Probably why Jodie had been throwing herself onto Johnny, hoping to get some dick, because the boy that brought her there only wanted to kiss her when you were there. 

“Fuck,” Mark groaned like it was the only word he knew. It probably was, all things considered. It wasn’t uncommon for his mind to go blank when your lips were airtight around his cock. His whole body shuddered in sensitivity, having been aroused since he started eating you out. 

And you were just sitting there, straddling him like a little devil, doing things to his cock that had him rethinking his whole life. Nobody had ever riled him up like this. Nobody instinctively knew how to get him off this quickly. Nobody, but you. 

Mark was looking at you with a certain darkness when he somehow summoned enough willpower to ask, “Don’t finish me yet. Please.”

You came up for air, but obeyed his request. You were well aware that you could finish him both ways, but there was no way of knowing how much time you had left before something inevitably demanded your attention, and you wanted to ride him so badly it made your head spin. 

Mark could finally breathe, but he should’ve known that it would’ve been short-lived. You didn’t waste a second to grab his cock and mount him, slowly but certainly sinking down to take it all. 

Your wet walls were quick to clamp down on his thick cock, drawing a deep, low swear out of Mark’s lips. Your nails gripped his shoulders for purchase, eyes winced closed, taking a minute to relish in the feeling of being full again contentedly. 

“Mark,” you whimpered, feeling yourself throb and tighten. You could’ve cried at the relief, so thrilled to be as close to Mark as your bodies could physically be again, and selfishly still aching for more. 

Mark blinked through the haze in his mind that you had single-handedly constructed, thrown back into the mist the second he heard you call out his name. His eyes closed, mind flickering with images of you, recalling all of those times you rode the soul out of his dick. 

You were an ethereal seductress, Mark was convinced, deceptively leading him to peril, rendering him helpless at the mercy of your enchanting charms. Your body did unspeakable things to him. With how tight you were around his cock, Mark would follow you to his demise. 

Was it fucked up to have sex while people were dying all around you? Yes. But that’s what you and Mark were. Two fucked up kids who never got healing.  

You felt healed when you were with each other, stripped to your truest forms, without fear of judgment. Mark taught you how to let go. You taught Mark how to let himself be loved. 

At least you made up before you fucked. In your opinion? That was progress. 

“Fuck, you ride me so good. I swear, you’re the best I’ve ever had,” Mark said, obsessed with your every motion as you rocked your hips down onto his cock, resuscitating all of those carnal sensations you woke up inside his soul. 

The best I’ve ever had. Your mind was spiraling, faint from the heat burning your bodies up a thousand degrees hotter. Your body was built to take him, or at least it felt that way. Like the satisfaction you got from each other could only exist between the two of you. 

Again, you grabbed Mark by his tie, pulling him in for another heart-stopping kiss. There was no hesitation. He kissed you back devilishly, getting a hold of your waist tightly, sucking on your tongue without bothering to be clean or slow about it. 

You could kiss Mark until the day you died. You never wanted to forget how he tasted in your mouth. How he felt pressed flush against your semi-naked skin, your soft lips. How he looked at you like you were the only woman he’d ever loved, ruined for any other girl.

Mark wanted to complain when you parted from his lips, but suddenly they were on his neck and he sensed a shiver run down his spine, shock and pleasure taking the sound before it dared to leave his mouth. Your teeth grazed his collarbone, finding his pulse and sucking at it. 

You watched Mark melt on the spot and giggled. Your friends and his friends were definitely going to clock the bright red marks on his throat, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. If you wanted to suck and nibble at his neck, then by all means, Mark would let you do whatever you wanted. 

Mark’s guttural groans were your greatest vice, making you noticeably throb around him, which thus only yanked a mouth-watering hiss out of his lips. He was looking at you through fluttering eyes, the corners of his vision dark and reeling, watching you ruin him from below. 

To be fair, you already ruined him. All those days Mark spent waiting for you, waiting to hold you, were days of complete and total annihilation. Not only the ones after the breakup, but before it. Those days where he only watched you from afar, dwelling on you. Pining for you. 

You separated from his neck to say, “God fucking damn. I love your dick. I love the way you feel inside me.”

As if Mark wasn’t already fighting off his looking orgasm. “Yeah?”

“No one will ever feel as good as you. I just wanna keep you close to me like this, Mark. Forever. I don’t want anything to come between us ever again and I won’t let it.”

“Me, too,” Mark wheezed, his breaths barely enough to keep him alive, though he didn’t mind it because he had you. You were on top of him, killing him softly and giving him life all at the same time, and it was more than he could handle. 

You could tell from his tone of voice that he was dangling over the edge and was attempting to stave off his impending orgasm, holding himself at bay. Mark didn’t want this to end so soon. You just came back into his life and he wasn’t keen on letting go of those endorphins. 

It wasn’t like you were far from release yourself. You couldn’t resist it, not when Mark kept making those sexy fucking sounds and your bodies were exchanging warmth. You couldn’t wait to take him to bed properly, bones tensing with the very desire to do things to him that you sadly couldn’t do here. 

Mark felt the same way. He wished your clothes were completely off, but this would have to suffice for now and that was fine. This was enough to kill any man. Your soft sighs as you rolled your perfect hips, your bodies skin to skin, directly absorbing everything you did to each other. 

You were too good to be true, as Mark said. He oftentimes thought he was dreaming. It was unbelievable that a girl of your caliber could love him through each of his many flaws and proudly stake her claim to him, and in a way, that was what you were doing now. Telling the whole universe that you were Mark’s and you didn’t give a fuck who saw. 

Mark’s eyes tightened closed. You were making short work of him and he was minutes away from coming undone. Maybe seconds. 

Taking one look at you Mark was both relieved and shattered out of his goddamn mind. For one, you were obviously also standing at the very threshold of climax, though he could’ve pieced that together from how vigorously you were riding him. To say the least. 

But for two, you looked bewitching as hell with your face tensed in pleasure, and it was making the blood rush to Mark’s cock. 

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck,” Mark cursed, because they were the only words that would come to his head, other than the occasional, “Jesus Christ.” It was safe to say that you had him right where you wanted him; so far over the edge that there was no returning. No going back. 

You moaned his name, preparing to take him there. Mark was already gone. He blew his long blond hair out of his face so that he could take a better look at you, going to town like no other before you. 

Mark hoped that you wouldn’t finish him earlier than he needed, that you wouldn’t pull out all of your priceless tricks, but he would’ve been naive to truly believe that you would let him off that easily. No, you wanted to wreck him thoroughly. The same way that he had wrecked you. 

At long last it was time to reap what he’d sowed. And you absolutely did not intend to show him any mercy. You wanted to see him at his worst. 

Finally, you leaned into Mark’s ear like he feared that you would, whispering in the velvetest voice you could, “Come on, baby. I know that you’re close. Don’t you wanna finish inside me?”

You hit the jackpot. Mark’s brain faltered at the thought of releasing his load inches deep inside of you, imagining the sated noise that you would make when you sensed him empty his balls inside of you. “Fuck.” The temptation burned hotter than before, sending tingles through his limbs. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you told Mark in a shockingly level voice, though he could still hear a slight tremble in your tone. “And I want you to cum with me. Please?”

Mark bobbed his head. You were so deep in his head that he would do whatever you wanted, no matter how insane the request. Plus that sweet tone you were using on him was getting under his skin, making his face strain. 

You quickened your pace, pulling out all of the stops to get him to finish, knowing he was weak and defenseless against your methods. Mark started to shudder and it became obvious that his fight was over. It was a telltale hint. You were going to get him off. 

And then it hit him. It sped into him like a semi-truck on the interstate, a head-on collision that burst into an uncontrollable path of fire, setting him off. Mark cursed in the lowest tone he could make as he finally orgasmed, a steadfast grip on your hips. 

His hips bucked up into yours as he rode out his high, releasing every drop of semen into your hot vice-like pussy. You moaned like he knew you  would at the sensation, trembling with your second release, nails digging into his shoulders that were (thank fuck) safeguarded by his suit. 

After all was said and done, you collapsed onto his chest, panting for breath. Mark took a few blinks to try and clear the misty look out of his eyes. They were dark and soulless, thanks to you. For half a minute, he swore he couldn’t barely see a damn thing. 

Neither of you wanted to move for the longest time. You desperately wanted to remain there in Mark’s arms and he was content with just holding you there. Though in favor of looking presentable lest somebody caught you, you forced yourself to come up off his softening cock, grabbing a pool towel to clean up your mess. 

Mark stubbornly fixed his clothes, though with the look on his face, all you could liken him to was a heartbroken puppy that nobody wanted to play with. “Dude. It’s already over.”

You checked your phone and chuckled, “Mark, it’s been like an hour.”

Right as you were about to set your phone back down on the poolside table, it vibrated in your hand, your screen flashing brightly. You glanced at it again, noticing a message from Johnny. Living room. Now. 

You noticed Mark’s phone had also pinged when you flitted your gaze to him. “Johnny?”

“Yup,” Mark replied, suspicious. “What do you think? Set up?”

You huffed, “A hell of a smart one. Even if it is, we’ve got to go check it out.”

“Yeah, but I just wanna go home with you,” Mark grumbled under his breath. 

You frowned, patting his back. This night would be over eventually, whether the daylight came first or Johnny ceasing it brought it on. 

Mark stepped back, letting you tug your dress back down. You were wearing your thinking face again so it came to him as no shock when you asked, “Who do you think did it?”

“I don’t know. We’re all capable of the unspeakable.”

“That’s what scares me,” you whispered. 

Mark’s lips made a line. 

The two of you grabbed your weapons, tucking them back into their hiding spots. After making sure you looked presentable, you and Mark emerged from the pool area, not bothering to look like you weren’t together or you still loathed each other. 

You loved Mark and Mark loved you. Why should you hide? 

To your misfortune, you and Mark were the last to arrive, which inevitably gathered unwanted attention. Your attention, however, was on the gash on Jeno’s arm, and you came up to him to ask fretfully, “What the hell happened?”

“While you and Mark were obviously busy making babies, somebody attacked Jeno. At least we know it wasn’t you two,” Haechan said, the perfect balance of sweetness and venom in his tone. 

Johnny glared, but continued, “That, and I noticed something from my case was missing. My mother’s necklace was stolen.”

You and Mark knowingly glanced at each other. It was you that said, “Well, I’m not saying she did it, but Chungha’s been paying very close attention to your case lately.”

Jeno hissed, “Is that what you’re worried about right now? I need a doctor! Johnny, you can’t possibly think we’re staying here all fucking night so that you can play Benoit Blanc.”

“First of all, I didn’t steal anything. If I wanted something, I would just ask. But your mother’s necklace? Johnny, I’m your friend,” Chungha replied as if it was the most absurd accusation ever. 

Johnny hadn’t smiled in so long it was starting to become terrifying. And you honestly couldn’t blame him. First somebody tried to kill him, and now his dead mother’s necklace was stolen? You’d go ballistic, but Johnny was relatively level when he said, “I consider you all my friends. And yet one of you tried to shoot me dead.”

Chunga said nothing. Her lips were in a frown. 

“So we’re just going to ignore me?” Jeno asked bitterly. 

“It’s a light gash, not a bullet wound. If you don’t get an infection, you will be fine,” Jaehyun told him coolly. 

Jeno grumbled something under his breath incoherently. 

You patted his back compassionately. There was a lot going on and it was hard to divide your attention between Jeno’s cut and Johnny’s stolen items. “I don’t understand the purpose of this meeting. Awareness? What are we doing to figure out who’s behind all this bullshit?”

Jeno hummed in agreement. 

“I don’t understand the purpose of these parties,” Haechan huffed exasperatedly. “Nevermind. Yes, I do. I know exactly why we come together every fucking year. We don’t see each other to ‘keep the peace’ or ‘remember Doyoung.’ We do it to forget. Forget what happened.”

Johnny opened his mouth to say something, but Haechan didn’t let him. And for once, you weren’t complaining. 

Haechan glanced at Johnny’s glaring face and said, “Don’t look at me like that, man. We’ve all been thinking it. I’m just the only one with enough courage to admit it. We all committed a sin. Now that we have our fancy public lives, we wanna make sure the truth stays dead and buried.”

You glanced to your feet as Haechan went on this little tangent of his. It was supposed to make you uncomfortable. How could you live comfortably with what you’d done?

"Each of you come here to save your own fucking asses, because if the media finds out that you're killers, it makes Mom and Dad look bad. That's it. That's the purpose," he ranted, ending his tirade bluntly. 

Well, he sure didn't beat around the bush. But that was the Haechan that you'd always known, confident and outspoken. To his right, Yuta was standing there, nodding along at everything he said in approval.

Jeno clapped his hands together. "You know what? I can't stand this guy, but round of applause. He's right."

You couldn’t argue even if you’d wanted to. After graduation, the group was indefinitely separated into pieces, but the eight of you agreed to never speak of what happened again. Of course, all of you went on to have successful careers, mostly because of who your parents were. 

Mark was the only exception. Your relationship wasn’t only private to your friends, but to the whole world. And for a weird reason. In spite of his affluence, your mother would have a heart attack if she knew you were dating somebody that wasn’t born into his wealth. 

Once upon a time, Mark Lee was a regular boy from Toronto. Somebody you vouched for and let into your circle, assuring him your friends weren’t just stuck-up rich kids. And he happened to make a killing doing something he loved. 

You wished you could say the same. 

Johnny said nothing for a long time, standing there with his hands posed behind his frame, which made you question him. It made you recall what Jeno had told you in that elevator a couple of hours earlier. People always look at the guy with his hands dirty. No one ever suspects the guy with his hands behind his back.

You glanced at the boy you were holding. Jeno noticed, peering back at you, but there was something different about his stare. Like there was something paining him. Then again, he did take a knife to one of his arms. 

Your gaze flitted back to Johnny. But how could he be guilty? It would’ve taken an insane amount of self-assurance to think that he’d pull a stunt like this off. And Johnny had plenty, but it wasn’t in his nature. Instinctively, he was a protector. It was this man’s natural instinct to defend what he loved with his life. 

Johnny leaving Yuta in that shack to search for a weapon wasn’t the whole tale. He left him there, but the weapon he found was the same one he used to kill your tormentor. This man risked his own life to put an end to the most traumatic night of your lives. Like that, the fight was over. 

You narrowed your eyes. Somebody here was guilty. But it wasn’t Johnny.

“You’re all dismissed,” Johnny said after a long pause. 

There was something recognizably off in Johnny’s tone, but you didn’t get the chance to ask questions, because Mark tugged you away from Jeno and led you down the hallway for all to see. 

“Dude, what the hell?” you screeched. 

Mark put his finger on his lips and said, “Somebody sliced up Jeno and I think that same person is framing Chungha.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” you huffed, rubbing your head. “I hope it wasn’t Haechan. He’s such a cancer.”

“Actually, he’s a Gemini.”

“That’s not…,” you trailed. “Nevermind. I love you, Mark.”

Mark still wasn’t used to hearing those words leaving your mouth again and instinctively he drew you into him, kissing you against the closest fucking wall with all of the affection within his very bones. 

You were so happy that you forgot you were even there. That danger and death were sputtering and crepitating all around you, because none of it seemed to matter when you were with Mark. 

“You didn’t tell me you two were back together.” 

Jeno’s voice startled you back into brutal reality. You would recognize it anywhere, but the ferocity in it was foreign. And you quickly noticed the gun in his hand. 

Mark tensed, but hid you behind him. He went to draw his own weapon, but Jeno threatened, “Any sudden moves and I’ll shoot.”

Your heart was racing. Fear coursed through your veins, but it was washed over by unadulterated anger. You broke out of Mark’s grasp, hissing, “What is this?”

“Baby, don’t,” Mark told you. There was worry in his eyes, but none for himself. All of it was for you. 

Jeno laughed, but you could tell that deep down he was bristling. “No, let her. She just doesn’t fucking listen, does she? I told her that you were bad luck, and here she is with her tongue down your throat. You can’t save somebody that doesn’t want to be saved, Mark.”

Mark was irritated, but said nothing. Not with a gun pointed squarely at your chest. 

It was overwhelmingly obvious now that Mark and his friends had been right about Jeno, but you hadn’t realized until now, when it was far too late. “You’ve been jealous this whole time?”

“Everybody else noticed that I was in love with you,” Jeno said with total vitriol. “Never you. You’re too busy sulking over Mark to pay me a lick of fucking attention.”

If it weren’t for the weapon glaring you down, you would’ve been tempted to give him a piece of your goddamn mind. The sting of the betrayal sitting in your gut numbed you to most of your fear, but not all of it. 

An irrational, heartbroken man that felt entitled to your affection holding a gun? There was no telling what he would decide to do. 

Jeno was spiraling and it was obvious. He was at the end of his tether which made him all the more dangerous, because that meant anything was fair game. “You know, I thought I took care of us. I thought that having Doyoung out of the picture would give you no choice but to look at me, but I was wrong. First it was Johnny. Then, it was Mark. It's like I wasn't even an option.”

Fighting back the incoming threat of tears, you shook your head and tried to keep your voice level, “You killed Doyoung so that you could have me?”

Jeno answered smartly, “Nah. That was all you, babe. But I would’ve done it. I would’ve done anything for us.”

Mark wanted to pull you out of harm’s way, but Jeno cocking his gun at him made him still. Never in his life had he felt so helpless. His heart was thudding so violently, twisting in his chest, because the girl he loved was in danger and he couldn’t do a damn thing to help her. 

You couldn’t tell if he was addressing you or Mark when he said, “Love is a weakness. You want to, but you don’t want to. Your brain’s telling you this, but your heart’s telling you that. Who do you listen to? What’s good and what’s bad?”

Your head was spinning. Your muscles were tensing with the overpowering urge to attack, as were Mark’s, but you knew Jeno was a threat. You coaxed sweetly, “Jeno, put the gun down. You and I, we’re friends. We can talk this out like we always have.”

That only made Jeno’s rage worse and he snapped, “That right there is your fucking problem. You think I’m stupid. Don’t you know I can tell when you’re lying to me?”

You heaved a breath. If it weren’t for Mark’s body still pressed so closely to yours, you probably would’ve panicked. 

Jeno was mercurial in his feelings, switching from resentful to indifferent, to petulant like a newborn child. His voice was wounded as he confessed, “I’ve spent so long wishing that I could have you there with me. And every time it feels like I get close, there’s another guy. I’m back where I started. It’s always one step forward and three steps back with you.”

You shook your head, slipping your fingers through Mark’s. “What’s your endgame then, Jeno? You know I’ll never be yours.”

“I know,” Jeno said, glaring as his eyes dropped to your intertwined hands. “And that’s why if I can’t have you, nobody will.”

There was a loud crackling in the air, so loud your ears started to ring, but you thought it was out of shock. 

It was over before it even started. Mark shoved you out of the way, sending you barreling to the ground just in time for the gunshot to miss you, but pierce him through the shoulder. 

Jeno wasn’t none too pleased about the bullet missing his ultimate target, but because he’d already gotten started, there was no way that he was stopping anytime soon. The second he raised his hand to fire another bullet, a second shot echoed out behind his frame. 

You gasped when Jeno collapsed, a pool of blood peeking out from under him, but you crawled over to the body crouched beside him and shrieked, “Mark!”

Mark was leaning against the wall, taking inhale after exhale. You tried to reserve panic for later, taking off Mark’s coat and applying pressure to the wound. His eyes winced closed and he hissed, “Fuck! That hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know. But we’ve gotta stop the bleeding,” you replied, vision blurring from tears. You hoped to god the bullet missed his nerves. 

Jaehyun came rushing over as Johnny looked over Jeno’s body, making certain that he was no longer a threat. He took his gun and said to Jaehyun, “Call emergency services.”

Jaehyun bobbed his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket immediately and calling a number he had on speed dial. 

“Keep the pressure on him. I know it doesn’t look that serious in the movies, but a shoulder wound can kill him,” Johnny told you, intent on sitting there until an ambulance arrived. 

In the corner of your eye, you noticed him pull a chain from Jeno’s coat and mumble something under his breath. 

You briefly lifted one hand off Mark’s shoulder to wipe a tear away. Being with Mark again blinded you, tricking you into thinking that you’d finally be happy solely because you had Mark back, but this burst your bubble. It’d never be over. Days of living in unbroken fear would never stop. The internal warring would never end. It was a constant. 

“I hate that sound,” you mumbled under your breath. 

Mark’s voice was quiet, but he pressed his other hand to your forearm to let you know he was still there. “What sound?”

An invisible icy breeze crept over your shoulders, making you shudder as you replied, “Gunshots.”

“Then, we’ll go somewhere we’ll never have to hear them again. It’ll be just you and me. Maybe a family, if you want one.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered.

Mark smiled as wide as he could, squeezing your forearm. 

“And then what happened?” Maxine asked. 

Mark, holding your six-year-old daughter in his lap, answered, “I went to the hospital. Your mommy rode with me in the back of an ambulance.”

Turning the corner to your bedroom with cups of hot cocoa in your hands, you threw your husband a look and asked, “Is it a good idea to be telling our children about this, Mark?”

August swiftly begged, “Wait no. We want to hear the rest of the story about how Dad got his scar. Right, Maxi?”

Maxine bobbed her head. “Mommy, please?”

Mark’s bottom lip protruded, mimicking the cute pouts and puppy eyes of your shared children. “Please, Mama?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband’s behavior, but he and your kids were too damn irresistible. “Oh, what the heck. Okay. Fine. Go on.”

Maxine stood on her father’s thighs, dancing excitedly in celebration. Mark watched her fondly, but kept a close eye to make sure she didn’t fall. August, on the other hand, simply smiled. He’d always been curious about you and his father’s life endeavors. 

You passed cups of hot cocoa to your two kids, both of whom gave you a sweet, “Thank you.”

August took a sip and asked, “So, what happened at the hospital?”

“I had to get a surgery on my shoulder,” Mark explained. “When I woke up and I could keep my eyes open for longer than a few minutes at a time, it wasn’t Christmas eve anymore. It was New Years.”

You bobbed your head. “I spent Christmas with your father in that hospital. I was supposed to go home to have dinner with my parents and a bunch of shareholders, but I couldn’t leave his side. Especially not without knowing if he was okay.”

The only time you left was when you literally had no other option. Bathroom breaks or the doctors kindly asking for you to leave. The others occasionally came to give him a visit as well, but as long as Mark was there, that hospital was your new home. 

Their company meant a lot back then. It helped not to be too lonely there from time to time. You half expected a huge, ‘I told you so’ or something from all of Mark’s friends, but they were surprisingly sympathetic. 

Imagine Mark’s surprise when he woke up for good and you told him that Haechan had even hugged you. 

Maxine’s eyes winced closed. “Ow! That’s hot,” she exclaimed, setting her mug on the nightstand. 

“Careful, sweetie. You’ll burn yourself,” Mark said, eyes flickering with care. 

Your lips curled into a grin. You liked watching Mark sometimes, like you weren’t even there. Here and there, you would peek around the corner after coming home, listening to the sounds of your husband fathering your kids. He was so attentive and patient with them. It meant everything to know your babies were in good hands. 

Mark showed Maxine how to blow her hot cocoa and she mimicked his actions with cautious sips, demanding politely in between, “Keep talking. I wanna hear the rest of the story. Please?”

You chuckled. This little girl would follow up the most aggressive demand with a sweet-sounding ‘please?’

“Your mommy had to enlighten me on what happened after I went to the hospital, because I was too out of it to see the mystery unfold in real time,” Mark replied. 

You nodded your head. You still remembered sitting there beside that hospital bed, ceaseless beeping fading into background noise after enough hours spent basically alone. You’d told Mark, “He tried to kill Johnny to throw off whatever investigation succeeded the shooting.”

Mark had blinked, processing. Thinking took entirely too much strength hooked to whatever equipment was keeping him alive in that damn hospital. “What about Jodie?”

“Jodie was collateral damage, maybe a surrogate. I was obviously the actual object of his rage. His endgame. It gives me chills, thinking about how he smiled in my face when he knew he wasn’t gonna leave that party till he or I was dead.”

The little flashback made you fight a sigh. People had betrayed you before, but none like that. You banished the thoughts away and kept entertaining your kids. Jeno was gone. In hell somewhere, hopefully. 

As you snuggled under the blankets beside your son, he questioned curiously, “Who stabbed Jeno?”

“The medical examiner looked at him. She said the wound was obviously self-inflicted to a trained eye,” you replied with a snicker. At first, you were outraged. Nowadays, all you could do was laugh. 

You weren’t even slightly worried about your kids comprehension skills as you regaled them on that ever so wonderful time in your life. Your kids were brilliant. Maybe it was all those books they liked to read, but you could have the most advanced back-and-forth conversation with those two and they would understand every single word. Sometimes it was frightening. 

“And to think, he had such a fit over an injury he made himself,” Mark added, shaking his head in astonishment. 

The thought made you want to roll your eyes, but another one made you want to burst into laughter. “God, do you remember his face when Jaehyun told him that he’d be fine? I think he and Johnny suspected Jeno was the killer.”

Maxine was beaming from ear to ear. “Uncle Johnny is so cool. Is he still coming over next weekend?”

You bobbed your head. “Yup. He said he has a surprise for you. And before you ask, I’m not telling.”

Maxine pouted. “Please?”

“Nope. Your cute tricks won’t work on me this time. I fortunately value my life and Uncle Johnny will kill me if I tell you,” you replied, crossing your arms. 

Maxine sighed sadly. You hated it when she did that. It made you want to give her the entire universe.  

Fortunately, Maxine forgot rather quickly, because she whipped around and asked her father, “Daddy, how long did it take you to heal?”

“I was all better the next day,” Mark lied through his teeth. 

You deadpanned, “He’s lying. He was in the hospital for a week and it took three months before he was even slightly normal again.”

Then, you moved here. Jaehyun and Chungha came over to help you with interior design. Imagine your shock when you found out the reason they were suspiciously walking around Johnny’s penthouse was because they were sneaking around to kiss and hook up. Apparently, they were taking a page out of your book. 

You glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand. Noticing that it read eleven o’clock, you said enthusiastically, “Alright, kids. Who’s ready to open up their Christmas presents?”

There was a loud chorus of, “Me!” Your kids started to jump up and down on your bed in excitement, nearly crushing your legs, exactly as they had done when they woke you and your husband up a couple of hours ago. 

Mark chimed in, “First one there gets to open up their biggest present first.”

Immediately, Maxine and August hopped off your bed, racing each other to the living room as quickly as possible before the other could get there. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. Never in a billion years did you imagine having this future with Mark, but you were endlessly grateful. “Merry Christmas, love of my life.”

Mark leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Merry Christmas, baby. I’ve got a little surprise gift for you later.”

“Oh?”

Mark snickered at the mischief on your face. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Because you get that little look on your face,” Mark replied with a sly grin. 

You shook your head, but you were still smiling. “Okay. If it’s not that, then what is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Okay, fine. Have it your way. I don’t care,” you groaned. 

Mark was sporting the biggest smile ever. For what, you had absolutely no clue, until he pulled you for another kiss and confessed, “I’m so glad we made up that one Christmas.”

Your skin came alive against his. Your whole body was filled with bliss and wonder. You laid your head on his chest, feeling his heart race. “Me too, baby.”

[paramaniaa]

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

introducing the la la love series ── a collection that celebrates your lucky love surrounding valentine's day

💭

♡ MARK LEE ⁀➷⊹

MY GIRL .ᐟ

prologue. "i think i'd rather wait for someone i want to say yes to,"

pairing. shyboy!mark x popular!reader

synopsis. in which mark has apparently claimed you in his heart, and to no one other than his friends. hiding his feelings thinking that he didn't have a chance, he gets extremely jealous when someone tries to ask you out for valentine's day. you're his girl.

♡ HUANG RENJUN ⁀➷⊹

SOMETHING NEW .ᐟ

prologue. "guessing you're not here for pink heart cookies?"

pairing. barista!renjun x burntout!reader

synopsis. tired of all of the valentine spirit at your usual coffee shop, you try a different one a little further from your campus. a less populated, more mellow place, and there you meet huang renjun. you were never one to believe in things like love at first sight; until you met him. all it took was one cup of coffee.

♡ LEE JENO ⁀➷⊹

CLASS CRUSH .ᐟ

prologue. “my brain just goes blank when i look at you…”

pairing. collegeTA!jeno x student!reader

synopsis. in which your shy and reserved TA from your literature class started acting a little different. harboring a crush on you for months, he finally gets the courage to confess to you…on valentine’s day.

♡ LEE DONGHYUCK ⁀➷⊹

BURNT HEARTS .ᐟ

prologue. "..you in the kitchen? with an oven?...that's on?"

pairing. sweetheart!donghyuck x baker!reader

synopsis. lee donghyuck never stepped foot in a kitchen for more than a midnight snack, but for valentine's day he is determined to bake something for you-the campus's best baker and the girl who stole his heart without even trying. when things don't go as he planned, he still shows up armed with charm.

♡ NA JAEMIN ⁀➷⊹

YOU WIN .ᐟ

prologue. "i don't always win, but i promise you i will this time..."

pairing. varsity!jaemin x photographer!reader

synopsis. in which jaemin has been pining after you and makes you a deal. if he wins the valentine's day basketball game, you have to go out with him. you agreed, but you knew you didn't like him like that. at least that's what you've been telling yourself.

♡ ZHONG CHENLE ⁀➷⊹

PERFECT EXCUSE .ᐟ

prologue. "..us. you. me. valentine's day fair,"

pairing. playful!chenle x perfectionist!reader

synopsis. you never cared much for valentine's day. it's not that you needed to, because school was more important. however, when you get roped into a (stupid) day at the valentine's day fair, with the annoyingly charming zhong chenle, maybe your perspective will change.

♡ PARK JISUNG ⁀➷⊹

LOVE BET .ᐟ

prologue. "pfft, you'll be crying into your wallet by next week,"

pairing. bestfriend!jisung x bestfriend!reader

synopsis. you and your bestfriend jokingly make a bet that whoever doesn't get a valentine has to pay for dinner at you guys' favorite restaurant, which is quite expensive. as valentine's day approaches, you both realize that you don't exactly like the idea of the other person going out with someone..

💭 j.note. hi luvvs!! i am so so so excited for this series to come out! i really hope you guys are looking forward to it and they will becoming out one by one starting february 7th! i figured i'd post the masterlist first so that you guys can get the feel and yeah! i hope you enjoy them, and until then if you would like to be added to the taglist (if anyone) just comment! <3

[paramaniaa]

OH MY GOD😭

Is It Over Now? [ZCL/PJS] (M)

Description: Your relationship with Chenle is nothing but fight after fight. Amidst the toxicity, infidelity comes into play--except you're determined to one up him...but is it ever truly over?

A/N: this is inspired by Taylor Swift's Is It Over Now? and I highly recommend listening to it because omg...but also...keep in mind this poll and this poll determined the trajectory of this fic LOL

Genre: Smut/Angst

Content Warnings: This is very dirty idk y'all i'msosorry...but basically content warnings are infidelity (both reader & chenle, explicit on reader's part), some very crazy arguments (there are no physical fights but these can be triggering), explicit, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, use of pet names: baby, pretty girl, slut, whore (once maybe), and any variation of those. Buckle up y'all, this one is kinda crazy. Also kinda open ended sawry

Word Count: 11,198

Taglist: @nominsgirl @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @chezziy

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader | Park Jisung x fem!Reader

Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)

You know exactly where everything went wrong.

It’s what led you to the current situation you’re in—on top of one of your boyfriend’s closest friends with his hands all over you. Anger burns in your bones, and if you were capable of it any longer, you’d be crushed to dust at this point.

The roll of your hips causes a curse to fall from Jisung’s mouth. He grips your ass, the rough fabric of your jeans catching on his nails. The man under you is just as pissed as you are, and some sick form of revenge clouds both of your brains. He sinks his teeth into your bottom and tugs. If you’d felt at all guilty when you started this, it’s long gone now.

At least you and Jisung won’t be caught together in public.

“He’s a fucking idiot,” Jisung hisses under his breath as you continue to grind on him.

You chuckle. “I know. It’s not the fucking first time either.”

He pulls away from you, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. The passion has all but melted from his face, but both of you are left panting.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks.

“I thought you knew.” The last thing you wanted was for this to be an emotional encounter, and if you let yourself think of how you trusted your boyfriend again after the first time he cheated, resentment will turn to pain. No. You fucking refuse.

“I would’ve told you,” Jisung continues, hand sliding up from your ass to the small of your back. “You really think I would’ve kept that from you?”

“All due respect, Jisung, but I’m not looking for a heart-to-heart right now.”

His jaw tightens, and the care resounds in his eyes, but he nods and reaches up to grip the back of your neck. He kisses you harder this time, his tongue dancing with yours as he starts unbuttoning your shirt. The fabric is silky against your skin, and feeling him so close to you has your fragmented heart racing in your chest and chills spiraling down your spine.

“Hurry up,” you tell him. “He’ll be home soon.”

In response, he tugs instead, and the remaining buttons pop open before he pushes your blouse off your shoulders. You have a clear view of the door this way, where you and Jisung sit at the edge of your bed. Climbing off his lap, you shuffle out of your jeans. You watch as Jisung takes his own off, the prominent bulge of his length straining against his boxers.

A swirl of doubt punches you in the gut, and for a moment, you’re winded. Does the hurt Chenle caused you justify this? Should you be choosing this route instead of just leaving?

“You can change your mind,” Jisung says, shuffling closer to the edge.

Snapping out of it, you shake your head and straddle his lap. His bottom lip is taken between his teeth as you grasp his length, freeing it from its confines. A haze takes over his eyes, his hips lifting into your fist.

You move your panties aside and line him up with your entrance. He inhales sharply.

“Fuck, hold on.” He grips your hips. “It might hurt if you don’t let me—”

“Promise you it can’t be any fucking worse than what I’m already going through.” You pause. “Condom? I’m clean and on birth control, so it’s up to you.”

“I’m clean, too.” He nods. “Raw is fine. Good.”

You laugh at the awkwardness, but begin your descent anyway. A moan gets caught in your throat as you struggle to fit him further. Your walls pulse around his cock, and an exhilarating adrenaline makes you feel higher than you’ve ever been. This life wasn’t what you imagined.

You never thought your boyfriend would be capable of sleeping with anyone else, and neither did you think you would be. Yet, here you are, following in Chenle’s footsteps. Jisung was probably a shitty move on your part. At least Chenle wasn’t fucking your friends, but you wanted to make sure he felt your pain—if he’ll even care at all.

Once he’s completely inside you, you grip onto his shoulders, your body trembling. To ease you, he reaches down and thumbs your clit. He kisses your neck, nudging one of your bra straps down your arm. You let out a sigh of pleasure, rolling your hips.

“Yeah, he’s fucking stupid.” Jisung hums into your skin, squeezing your ass. “You…fuck, you feel good.”

“Hope it was all worth it for him,” you mumble, slowly starting to lift your hips up.

He assists you in your pace, an arm around your waist to help. After a few moments, the awkward stretch becomes pleasure. You curse under your breath and pick up your pace, eyes rolling back as he thrusts up to match you.

Each movement of his is punctuated by short, low groans, and your entire being tingles from how deep he is inside you, how this is somehow a signal of your freedom. His tip presses against your cervix and you cry out.

Jisung slaps your ass, and the desperate tug inside you to speed up becomes too much to ignore. In your delirium, you almost miss Chenle standing in the doorway. Maybe you’re imagining it, but as you fuck yourself on Jisung’s cock, you stare right at him, a weak laugh escaping your lips.

You roughly tangle your fingers in Jisung’s hair—something you know drives Chenle crazy when you do it to him—and tug him up to kiss you, moving your hips faster. The other man’s presence just spurs you forward.

Jisung’s fingers connect with your clit again, and your broken moan and blurry vision almost make you miss the way Chenle’s jaw tightens. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, slamming you into a wall of pleasure as you spasm on top of Jisung. Right before your eyesight fails you completely, you see Chenle walk away.

Jisung spills inside you, coating your walls with white. You kiss him hard, panting as you lift yourself off him. He’s dazed, but eventually settles himself back in his boxers before getting up for his jeans. You redress, knowing full well Chenle’s waiting in the kitchen. It’ll most likely be an argument, but you can’t help the adrenaline flowing through your veins at the thought.

Jisung is still blissfully unaware Chenle’s in the house, so when he pulls you in for a kiss, you sigh. You grab his hand and lead him out of your bedroom, and the sight of the other man gripping the counter makes him freeze.

Chenle downs the rest of whatever’s in his cup—it’s safe to assume what the bronze liquid is as he swallows and cringes. He doesn’t look at either of you.

“You should go.” Glancing at Jisung, you catch the worried gleam in his gaze.

“Will you be okay?” he asks.

“The fuck does that mean?” Chenle snaps. “Get the fuck out, Jisung.”

“Call me if you need me.” Jisung hesitantly leaves your side, and once the door closes behind him, you slide your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Really?” Chenle finally breaks the silence. “You could’ve picked anyone, and you fuck Jisung?”

“That’s what you’re mad about?” You snort and walk over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Untwisting the cap, you turn back to Chenle, unaccustomed to his glare being directed at you. “What? It’s okay for you to fuck anyone you want, but when I do it, it’s wrong?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t fuck anyone but you.”

“You really think I didn’t see that?” You shake your head, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “There were pictures, you dumbass. And now I can’t even act like I’m ignorant. I can’t act like you love me anymore, Chenle. Be serious right now.”

“Oh, right, because being seen with a girl has to mean I’m fucking her, yeah?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re just insecure, (Y/N), and I can’t fucking help you with that. Did you think fucking Jisung would make me want you more? May as well add crazy to the list, too.”

Under different circumstances, you know those words would kill you. They’d be like bullets fragmenting in your heart, but today? For some reason, everything shut off. You don’t want him anymore, and your irritation sparks at the base of your spine.

“You putting this on me is fucking hilarious.” Your voice is sharp, and you hope you return his bullets as knives.

“We’re fucked.” He pours more liquor into his glass, a scowl on his face as he downs it. “Are you kidding me? I make a mistake one time, and you go out of your way to screw my friend? Did you think you could hurt me or something?”

“Don’t know.” You shrug.

“The sooner you admit we were over long before I ever slept with anyone else, the easier it’ll be for both of us. You’re being a child by inviting Jisung over here.” His grip on the counter tightens.

And just like that, something inside you snaps.

“You did this, Chenle. You fucked up, you ruined everything, you are a piece of shit.” You jab your finger in his direction. “At least I had the decency not to get caught in public. You don’t even care at all. Not even a little bit. And it’s so fucking frustrating because I do everything for you.”

“Bullshit,” he says.

“Was it over when you brought that girl here? Was it? Because you cried and begged for me to stay. You said it was a mistake, and you’d never be able to love anyone the same way you love me. You really think it was over, Chenle? Then what the fuck are you still doing here?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You fucking did it again!” you yell, hands tugging at your hair. “You want me to be the bad guy so bad, but all of this is on you. The blame is on you. You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants. What are you searching all these beds for, huh? You want something better than me?”

“Fuck,” he shouts, hand swiping across the counter.

Time slows as his palm comes in contact with his glass, as he sends it flying into the cabinet, as it shatters beneath his force. How fucking ironic you relate to it.

Your chest heaves, your heart twisting harshly. How did you get here? How did love turn into something so fucking awful, you can’t stand looking at him? The silence is deafening after the shards scatter onto the floor.

The visceral reaction you get surprises even you. You tilt your head back, your body shaking with laughter.

“You’re so pathetic.” Tears well in your eyes, but the laughs cause you to run out of air. You grip onto the counter. “I fucking hate you. I hate you.”

“(Y/N), I’m—”

“Sorry?” Another bout of giggles passes through your lips. “I don’t care. Don’t you get that now? I hate you and I don’t fucking care what you have to say.”

“Baby, don’t—”

“You said it was over, Chenle. Is it over now? Because I’m done…I’m so done, and I don’t want to look at you anymore. Get the fuck out of my house, and I never want to see you again. I fucking mean it.”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t do this. She didn’t mean anything, and I know Jisung doesn’t mean anything to you, either.” He steps closer to you, glass crunching beneath his feet.

“Should’ve thought about that before you did it again. Leave.” After a few moments of him standing there like a statue, you shout, “Get the fuck out!”

Your throat is raw from yelling, and you’re halfway certain he’s not going to listen to you. He doesn’t usually, but as bad as your fights have gotten, they haven’t quite been this bad. With thousands of emotions written across his face like poetry, he brushes his shirt off and storms past you, slamming the door behind him without one glance back.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each thump hurting more than the last. Nausea takes you by storm, and you’d collapse if you weren’t leaning on the counter for support. You don’t even know who to call. Nobody you know takes care of you better than Chenle does after moments like these, and as your shortness of breath takes over full swing, you turn and sink down to the floor.

But the first step to quitting a drug is to stop supplying it to your bloodstream. To feel the numb of the high seeping away while the pain comes rushing back.

The tears you refused to allow earlier pour down your cheeks, and you drop your head back against the cupboard. Glass gleams next to you, twinkling innocently in the light of your kitchen. Through your blurry vision, it’s almost beautiful—an array of lights in the darkness that plagues your home.

When you grab your phone, you don’t know who’s number you call. You press it to your ear and pray it’s not Chenle.

“(Y/N)?” Jisung’s voice filters through immediately, and it makes your body wrack with another sob.

“Are you far?” you ask, voice thick and warbled.

“Not at all,” he offers instantly. “Do you want me to come back?”

You close your eyes and sniffle. “Please.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in five minutes. Are you okay?” The hint of panic laced in his tone has new tears forming.

“Don’t know.” You wipe your face. “I don’t fucking know.”

However long it takes him to get there, you’re unsure. The next thing you recall, Jisung crouches in front of you, eyes wide with concern. Guilt sinks into your stomach and twists it around, and you look up at him like he’s the key to making you feel better.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe out. “I’m sorry, Sungie, I don’t know why I did that to you. To him. I—”

“Hey, don’t worry about that right now.” His deep voice resonates in your chest, and it works to calm you slightly. He cups your cheeks and guides you up to make eye contact. “Are you hurt? There’s glass everywhere.”

You shake your head. “He wouldn’t.”

“There are a whole lot of things I thought he wouldn’t do. I have to make sure. Can you stand? Let’s get you away from all this.” He leads you to your feet, bringing you into your bedroom.

A few moments of silence pass as he helps you into your bed.

“Just get some rest, okay?” he whispers, his hands cupping your face.

“Where are you going?” you ask. “Don’t go, please.” You hold onto his wrist as if that’ll keep him with you.

“I’m just gonna clean up your kitchen,” he replies. “I won’t leave unless you want me to.”

You take a deep breath. “Can you stay for a few more minutes? I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

“Whatever you need. I’m here for you.”

You scoot over and glance at the spot next to you, and he obliges with your request. Both of you slide beneath the covers, and you turn to face him before burying your head in his chest. He cradles you closer to him, his warmth calming you slowly.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs.

His heart thumps erratically in his chest as he holds you, but the sound still manages to soothe you.

“Yeah,” you tell him, shuffling closer. “Thank you.”

He hums in response and presses his lips gently against your hairline. There are so many things wrong with your situation and your life, but for once, you feel a real equilibrium. Despite the pain wrenching away at your heart from the weight of Chenle’s absence, you find that all over again with Jisung’s firm grip on you.

Usually, when you and Chenle get into your arguments, the longest he goes without contacting you is two days. You’re now bordering on three and a half weeks, and the thought of him still makes you sick to your stomach. You haven’t heard a single word from him. Hell, you wouldn’t even know if he’s alive.

Jisung has become more of a rock than anything else. He’s equally as disappointed in Chenle as you are at this point, but he makes it a point to stay with you as much as he can. Today, for example, things are quiet. Peaceful. Your few weeks with Jisung have been so…different. You and Chenle couldn’t go more than a few days without an explosive argument, and now you haven’t raised your voice in all this time.

Jisung is soft. Kind, even. He shows you the side of himself you wish Chenle could’ve been before your relationship blew up into smithereens.

Your head rests on his shoulder, his fingers playing with your hair while his eyes are engrossed by the television screen in front of you. The lights are off, the sky is dark, but the gentle blues and greens illuminate the softness of his features.

“Sungie,” you whisper in an attempt to garner his attention.

He turns to you, his eyebrows raised. “Hm?”

“Why are you doing this for me?” you ask. “He’s your best friend.”

“He was.” Jisung nods. “And it sucks. But I’m not going to be friends with someone who treats people who love them like shit. You deserve so much more than that, (Y/N), really. He—what he did was fucked up.”

“I did it, too.” You shrug, fighting the way tears threaten to form in your eyes.

He wets his lips. “Yeah, but only after he did it twice.”

“That makes it okay?”

“No.” Jisung looks down at his lap, his hands fidgeting. “No, it doesn’t. But you were hurting and you retaliated in a way you thought would hurt him back. I would’ve done the same thing in your position.”

“You seriously had no idea what he was doing?” you ask.

“I didn’t have a fucking clue. He knows I would’ve told you immediately.” He sighs.

“Do you care about me?” You tilt your head at him, scanning over his face for any indication of annoyance. Anything that might tip you off that he’ll get angry with you.

He blinks once, a miniscule smile pulling at his mouth. “Of course, I do. I’d do anything for you.”

“Anything?”

He nods.

“Will you…will you kiss me?”

His jaw drops as he flounders for something to say. “That…”

“I’ll be honest with you, Sungie. My relationship with Chenle has been fucked for a really long time. I can’t remember the last time I meant it when I told him I loved him. But…I do. Love him. Miss him. It hurts like hell knowing he’s probably okay right now, with some other girl like I never mattered to him.” You inhale deeply, and your exhale shakes. “He’s all I’ve ever known. I just…want to make sure I can feel. That he didn’t get to keep all of that when he left.”

“And kissing me will do what?” He taps his fingers on his thighs. “What if it just makes you want him more?”

“I can’t. Going back to him is…I can’t do it again. But I need to know I can still function if he’s not the one…” you trail off, deflating entirely. “Nevermind. I’m sorry I asked, okay? I’m being ridiculous.”

You avoid his gaze entirely, staring off in the opposite direction. With Chenle, every touch, every kiss, every intimate moment was a direct result of something negative. It didn’t start that way, but it sure ended up there. Your mouths only met in anger after spewing hate at each other, and you’re not sure what a real, loving kiss feels like anymore.

Jisung reaches up and cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to his. His eyes dip down toward your lips, and your breath catches in your chest. It’s been so long since your heart has fluttered, but he makes it look so damn easy.

“You sure?”

The TV is long forgotten as you nod, your anticipation growing as he draws nearer. You forget to breathe, and once his lips brush yours, you gasp.

You close the last of the distance, the idea of being so close to him—to someone motivating you further. Kissing Jisung is worlds different from kissing Chenle. From the tenderness of his touch to the shape of his lips, not a single thing about him is reminiscent of Chenle. For some reason, disappointment weighs heavily on your chest.

But being with him is better than being alone, and you can’t deny the attraction being there. You remember the way he felt inside you, how he reached spots you didn’t know existed. You tangle your fingers in his hair, groaning against him.

“Jisung.” It comes out more as a whimper than anything else, and he freezes.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

Without another moment of hesitation, you throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, slowly sinking down until you feel him pressed against you. He grasps onto the back of your shirt.

“Are you thinking about it, too?” you ask, leaning in to kiss along his neck.

He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I probably shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?” You lean back, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Is this weird for you?”

“Um.” He grips your thigh tightly, lips parting as he tries to think of what to say. “Not because of him, if that’s what you mean.”

Your chest tightens at the mention of Chenle, even without his name. Jisung agreed to be with you once, and you’re not sure if he was fueled by any attraction to you at all.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for. When I tell you I don’t want to hurt you, I mean it.” He pauses, analyzing you. “C’mon, you’ve gotta know I want you.”

He pulls you closer to him, and your breath hitches when you feel how hard he is.

“I want you. But I need to be sure it’s really me you want.”

Your heart sinks. “Now you mean Chenle.”

“It’s not a bad thing, (Y/N). I get it. You’ve been through a lot with him and you have a bond I might not understand. That’s fine. But if we’re going to start something, it can’t be when you’re confused.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, unashamed as he stares at your mouth.

“I’m not confused, Sungie.” You shake your head. “I don’t want him anymore. When I said I was done, I meant it.”

“It’s okay either way. You were with him for a long time. It’s normal to hurt over stuff like this.” Jisung gives you a small smile.

“If you don’t want to right now, we can stop,” you tell him. “But it’s you I want. I promise.”

His fingers weave into your hair, inching you nearer to him. Right before your mouths meet, his gaze meets yours.

“I hope you know how many good things you deserve,” he mutters.

And then he kisses you, the softness of it taking you off guard. You melt into him, and despite hating how you notice the difference between him and Chenle again, you realize you might like this more than what you had before. It’s been so long since the person who was supposed to love you actually cared.

When his tongue meets yours, you sigh and hold onto him. He gets lost in you, hands gripping your hips to guide you back and forth on top of him. Even through layers of clothing, you feel how hard he is.

When a knock sounds on your door, you resolve to ignore it. You don’t care about whatever or whoever’s out there if you have Jisung. He tries to pull away, but you whine.

“Ignore it,” you tell him, your mouth still against his. “Ignore it. Please don’t stop.”

As soon as he kisses you again, a louder rapping noise follows, and you groan, dropping your head on his shoulder.

“You want me to get it?” he asks.

You shake your head, grumbling as you slide off his lap. “I got it.”

Without another word, you ignore the dampness between your legs and head over to your door with one last glance over your shoulder at Jisung. When you open it and see who’s standing outside, you recoil hard.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You’re not sure why you’re even entertaining this at all. Chenle stands before you, his eyebrows pinched together as he formulates his response. As to not alert Jisung of his presence, you keep your voice down.

“It’s been weeks and I haven’t heard from you.” He sighs. “I know we fought, but we never go this long without talking. I miss you.”

You don’t mean to laugh, but you do anyway. “You don’t miss me. I already told you we’re done. And I meant it this time, Chenle. You have to leave.”

“Why aren’t you letting me in?” He snorts. “Be fucking for real, we always end up right where we started. This time isn’t any different.”

“It is, though.” You pause, running your fingers through your hair. “I’m done. Honestly, if I never see you again, I’ll be better off.”

“You don’t really mean that.” He frowns.

“Yes, I do.”

“You can’t get mad at me for what I did when you did the exact same thing. We’ll call it even and start over.” Chenle stops, gaze mapping out every inch of you before he continues. “Why do you look like that?”

“Excuse me? Look like what?”

“Your face is all red, and your hair is messed up—” Whatever interrupts him has irritation creating a scowl on his face.

You’re only confused for a second before an arm wraps around your waist, fingers tapping against your hip. Heart twisting, you gape as you glance between Jisung and Chenle. Nerves eat away at you since you’re not sure what the latter will do, but you grasp onto Jisung’s wrist.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chenle lets out a short chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re both fucking insane.”

His words alone are almost enough to make you want to remove yourself from Jisung’s hold, but you know you’re safest right where you’re at.

But seeing Chenle in front of you again for the first time in weeks has you yearning for him. To kiss him, to hear him laugh, to simply just have someone who loves you. You have to keep reminding yourself that he doesn’t. Love hasn’t been in the equation for much too long.

“Let her go.” Chenle practically stares into Jisung’s soul. “See if she still wants you when you’re not holding her away from me.”

Jisung tenses behind you, and the hesitation behind his touch leaving you can only mean one thing—he believes him. He’s worried what Chenle is saying is true. That you’ll never want him in the same way you want Chenle.

Chenle’s gaze, so painfully familiar, settles on yours. Your heart sinks into your stomach as you recognize what this is.

It’s the beginning of the cycle.

It’s how he tricks you into thinking he’ll be better for you.

In his eyes, he begs you to come back to him. He makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll finally be what you’ve wanted him to be. What you needed him to be.

“C’mon, baby, we’ll forget this ever happened. I don’t blame you for being lonely and needing someone. He was just there. I know.”

Through your peripheral vision, you see Jisung’s fist clench at his side. The longer you stay silent, the more nervous the man behind you becomes. Your insides are at war. Not even ten minutes ago, you were sure you wanted Jisung. You had been reassuring him of that.

Now, seeing Chenle again for the first time in weeks, you’re practically weak in the knees. You want him, but not the man you’ve grown used to. You want who he used to be in the beginning—the person who loved you endlessly, who always put you first, who never went out of his way to hurt you in order to make you small enough to want him back.

No.

Because 491 days ago, he broke your heart for the first time. He was never going to admit to you what he did. Instead, he hid it, and the only reason you found out was through a text message that came through when he was showing you something on his phone.

You’re tired of it. Of being hurt and picking up shattered glass when he doesn’t want to be called out for his shitty actions.

“You’re wrong,” you mumble, terrified of the words leaving your mouth. After all, this means he’ll be gone for good. You won’t ever love him again. “Jisung wasn’t just there.”

Chenle recoils, narrowing his eyes. “Right. Because you’re suddenly in love with him, huh?”

“I care about him.” You reach back and grab his hand.

“If you pick him right now, you better be damn sure that’s what you want,” he snaps. “You’re making a huge fucking mistake, (Y/N). He’ll never be me.”

“That’s good. I don’t want him to be.” You shake your head. “I meant it when I said I was done.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth before glaring at Jisung. “You’re fucking dead to me. Some friend you are, trying to steal my fucking girl from me. That was your plan the whole time, wasn’t it? You were just waiting for the opportunity to swoop in and save the day.”

“You did this yourself,” Jisung replies. “She wouldn’t be with me if you were enough for her.”

Your chest tightens, preparing for Chenle to retaliate. You squeeze Jisung’s hand, and his thumb rubs over your knuckles. Over the course of your much too long relationship with Chenle, you quickly came to realize how close he and Jisung were. They were best friends, inseparable, really, and now the only thing stopping them from fighting is you. Right in the middle, you stand between them physically and metaphorically.

Instead, Chenle glances up to the ceiling, a laugh escaping him before he turns around without another word and disappears down the hallway. You slap your hand over your mouth when a shaky breath surpasses your lips, quickly reaching forward to shut the door. You lean against it for a moment, resting your forehead on the wood as Jisung stands silent behind you.

“Are you okay?” he whispers. “That was a lot.”

You don’t say anything. Between the way your heart beats at a hundred miles a minute, how your brain swirls, and how your stomach twists, the only thing you can do is suck in a loud, sharp inhale as you fight the urge to bawl your eyes out.

He moves closer to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. The touch sends a pang through your body, and you have to smack him away. Everything is so overwhelming, and knowing Chenle is gone for good is making you question every choice you’ve ever made leading up to this moment.

Once upon a time, you were convinced he was the love of your life. You were sure things were going to be perfect forever, but God, how far from the truth could you have been?

Jisung stays silent while you regain your composure. He waits patiently, but every little sound is amplified in your ears, so the creak of the wood beneath his feet as he rocks back and forth has everything crashing down around you.

You crumble, but somehow in the midst of it, Jisung’s arm wraps around your waist and tugs you close to him so you don’t fall. Fighting your tears, you clench your eyes shut. Over the years you spent with Chenle, you learned never to show how much something could hurt you. Showing emotion to anyone gives them the opportunity to hurt you, and Chenle took it one too many times.

“It’s okay,” Jisung whispers, sinking to the floor with you. “Tell me what you need. I’m here for you.”

You take a shuddering breath, but instead of saying anything, you turn and bury yourself in Jisung’s chest. His heart pounds in rhythm with yours, but he doesn’t seem outwardly anxious. He talks to you softly in an attempt to guide you. You don’t want to put this burden on him. Even then, all you can think about is Chenle, and how everything is over.

All the effort you put in to overcome the problems he created. Every argument you thought was worth it because maybe this one would lead somewhere. Maybe this breakdown would encourage him to change. Maybe this home you created for him would finally be enough.

It never was, and it never will be. How could it? He’s more interested in keeping you just to say he can. Chenle doesn’t love you, and you don’t love him. At least, you don’t think you do.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Jisung, shaking your head. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“I know.” He cradles you to his chest. “I know. It’s okay, now. It’s all over.”

But for some reason, that alone hurts more than anything Chenle ever said to you.

More days pass. They turn into weeks, and you honestly start to feel like you’ll be okay. This morning especially when you wake up to the sensation of Jisung’s lips on your neck. He hums against your skin, tongue tracing over your pulse.

You’d been nervous to initiate anything with Jisung again, but last night, one thing led to another, and the two of you ended up in bed with your legs around his waist.

Jisung makes you feel safe. You’re not sure what about that makes you crave him so much, but you easily melt into his touch. Pressing yourself closer to his warmth, you run your fingers through his hair.

“How are you feeling?” His voice is deeper in the morning with a slight rasp to it.

“Never been better.” You’re not lying. Everything with him is peaceful.

His hand moves down your side to squeeze your hip, and further until he’s resting on your thigh.

“Sungie,” you mutter.

“Yeah?”

“If you want something, tell me. Teasing isn’t nice.” You put your hand on top of his.

He chuckles, nipping at the base of your neck. “Maybe I just like touching you.”

“There are innocent places to touch.” You move him toward the apex of your thighs, suppressing a shaky breath. “But let’s forget those exist.”

You feel his smirk on your skin, and when he brushes against your clit, you curse quietly. He hooks his ankle with yours to give himself better access, and he finds your entrance already wet.

“You sure it’s me who wanted it?” He tsks.

You open your mouth to respond, but he slides two of his long fingers inside you. A moan escapes instead, and you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks and between your legs. Your brain is still fogged with sleep, which must mean that’s part of why it feels so fucking good. You fall into the pleasure, gripping the sheets in front of you.

“Can’t think of anything else but you,” he whispers, pumping his hand at a steady pace. “How you sound, how you feel, how you taste. Just you.”

Your eyes clench shut as you relish in the way he makes you feel, his gentle movements making you need him that much more. Rocking your hips, you practically melt into him. Something about the early morning sun and still being tired from the night before has you getting closer and closer without much effort from either of you.

His lips brush your ear. “Feel good, baby?”

Your walls clamp down on him, and you let out a moan in response to his question. Butterflies swarm in your stomach, and while you’re desperate to finish, you also wouldn’t mind sitting here like this forever.

“Jisung,” you whine. “Please.”

He tilts your head back and kisses you hard, his thumb finding your clit as he continues. You cry out into his mouth, back arching at the pleasure swirling around you. Your insides twist and turn and you’re only half-sure you’ll ever come down from this.

Unfortunately for you, the high fades as he guides you through it. Once he pulls out of you, you turn to face him. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, cleaning your arousal off as his eyes flutter shut at your taste.

You push his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, and when you straddle his lap, he stares up at you in awe as the blanket falls from your shoulders. Reaching down, you line him up with your entrance. His lips part, and he sucks in a quick breath.

You sink down slowly, thighs shaking as you allow him to fill you. He curses, his nails digging into your hips. The more you take him, the tighter his grip on you becomes. You missed the feeling of this—of being full and seeing the pleasure you could cause someone else.

Once he’s completely buried inside you, he holds you down by your hips, eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Don’t move yet,” he mutters, voice thick. “God, are you really gonna make me cum just like this?”

Jisung explores every inch of your body, his hands leaving your hips to squeeze your ass, tracing up until he finds your breasts. His thumbs rub against your nipples, and you jolt, doing your best to refrain from taking him the way you want.

“Can I move?” you ask breathlessly. “Please, Sungie.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Of course, baby, show me how much you want me.”

You heat up at the sound of that, and when his grip loosens on you, you lift yourself up. The slow drag of him against your walls has you wanting to collapse already. He studies you closely, somewhat amused by your struggle to take him completely.

You move through your sensitivity, sinking back down and swiveling your hips. He thrusts up, and the tip of his cock hits your cervix. You whine, opting to continue your pace. As soon as he’s about to slide out of you, you allow him to fill you all over again.

He matches you, fucking up into you when you’ve already taken him halfway. Sounds of your arousal fill the room while he moves inside you, and he lifts his head to watch where he disappears in you.

You’re numbed by the pleasure, so much so that you’re barely able to hear the moans and quiet praises falling from his lips.

He squeezes your breasts, fingers tweaking your nipples. His eyes are everywhere, entranced by everything you are as you fuck yourself on his cock. A band starts to tighten in your stomach, but all you want is to make him feel good.

You grab one of his wrists, tugging down in the hopes he’ll get the idea. He places his palm flat on your stomach as he makes his way down slowly, slowly, smirking as you whine at him.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, thumbing your clit in perfect circles.

Your pace falters as you feel the euphoria approaching, unable to keep up. He stops, cursing as you clench hard around him. You let out a frustrated moan but opt to keep bouncing on him through your sensitivity.

“Don’t stop,” he commands. “It’s gonna feel better if you keep going.”

“Jisung, please.” Your walls flutter around him, and when he returns to your sensitive bud, you both know it won’t take long at all.

Your orgasm slams into you, but you force yourself to keep moving. Curses leave your mouth in a string as the knot unravels faster than you thought possible. Your walls clench around him. The tremor in your thighs makes it hard to keep moving, but you refuse to stop until he’s done.

He sits up, pulling you flush against his chest as he thrusts up into you. You bury your head in his neck and hold onto him tightly, the cloud of pleasure enough to make you lightheaded.

Once he’s as deep as he can get, he moans and spills inside you. Both of you pant, sweat making your skin stick together. And then his lips are on yours, soft in contrast with all of the overwhelming feelings happening.

His nails gently drag along your spine as he kisses down your neck.

“(Y/N),” he says.

“Hm?” is all you can muster.

“I really, really like you. A lot.” His mouth brushes against your shoulder. “And…this was probably the worst time to say that. But it’s true.”

“I like you, too.”

He doesn’t see your smile, but you feel his.

“No matter what happens,” he says, inhaling deeply. “Just know I won’t let you down, okay?”

“I know, Sungie.” You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer, still attempting to calm down from your whirlwind. “I trust you.”

He flips you over, holding himself up on his elbows while he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Gonna clean you up, okay?”

You hum in response, letting out a sigh when he pulls out of you. Waiting for him to return, you don’t move a muscle, instead, closing your eyes and basking in the feeling of warmth he’s left all over your body.

He cleans up the mess between your legs with a towel, and then he’s climbing back into bed next to you. Tugging you close, he scans over your face.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Is it about him?” You force the words out, but the thought of Chenle at a time like this has your stomach twisting in unpleasant ways. It’s better for you when you just…don’t think of him at all. Only then are you able to completely enjoy your time with Jisung.

He chews on his bottom lip, nodding once. “Yeah.”

“Of course, you can. You just can’t get upset at my answers.”

“I won’t.” He pauses, taking a deep breath as he traces his finger down your arm. “Do you miss him?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I mean, I guess a part of me does. But I don’t know if that’s me missing him or the craziness and the pain. Because after a while…”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “It’s okay.”

“After a while, the pain starts to…feel normal. Good, even. Like I trained myself to crave the dysfunctional shit we did. In my mind, I thought all couples fought the same way we did. And everyone says fighting is normal, and if you’re not, you don’t really care about the relationship. So, in some sick, twisted way, I saw those arguments as us just…loving each other. Loudly.”

“I’m sorry he did that to you,” Jisung replies. “It’s not right.”

“It wasn’t just him, Sungie. It was me, too. C’mon, I literally asked you to help me because I thought it would hurt him.” You laugh at yourself, but ultimately, the conversation tears the barely healed wound in your heart open all over again.

“Sounds like he pushed you there.”

“I still made that decision. I could’ve been the bigger person and kept my hands clean,” you explain.

“Do you regret it?” he asks, a genuine fear laced in his gaze. “Do you still want him?”

Your hesitation has his fear twisting into hurt, but his face doesn’t change. It’s just the emotions swirling in his brown eyes that give you any indication of his feelings.

“Listen to me,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb over his skin. “I don’t regret it. Do I wish we started this in a different way? Yeah, I do. But what’s done is done, and I don’t think it would change anything for me and him.”

He places his hand over yours. “I won’t pretend like I understand, because I’ve never been in that kind of situation before. I just can’t believe he would fucking do something like that. To you of all people.”

“Sungie, I’m not perfect.” You give him a tiny smile. “I’ve said and done things I shouldn’t have. Regardless of everything else, this was the ultimate betrayal, wasn’t it? He might have done it first, but I’m with you. It isn’t just sex.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Maybe not. But I don’t think it’s just his, either. We fell apart long before he ever cheated in the first place.” Tears well in your eyes, and you shake your head. “I don’t wanna talk about him anymore.”

He kisses your forehead, tugging you to his chest. “That’s okay. Let’s spend all day right here, okay?”

You nod. “I’d love that.”

Your first mistake of the day was leaving your house. You’re not sure what spurred you into going out to get takeout considering all of the leftovers you have in your fridge, but life is clearly too short to worry about semantics. Your sunglasses block the sun out of your eyes, and as you push the door to the restaurant open, you place them on top of your head instead.

You don’t notice at first. After all, you’re starving and Jisung is at his own house tonight, so the only thing you’re focused on is ordering your food so you can eat.

You tell the nice lady your order, and when you’re done, you feel eyes on you—a prickly feeling beginning at the base of your spine that slowly weaves its way up each vertebrae until you find yourself turning around against your will.

In an instant, your hunger is replaced with an ache that has your stomach twisting and curling. Chenle meets your gaze, sitting at the table in the far corner. Your lungs refuse to fill when you also recognize that he’s not alone. A girl sits across from him, and her back faces you. She seems too engrossed in the story she’s telling Chenle to realize he’s no longer listening to her. He’s honed in on you, on how stiff you’re standing at the mere sight of him.

You’re not with him anymore. Of course, he’s free to see any girl he wants now. Why are you so upset? You’ve got Jisung. There’s no need for you to feel this way, to feel how your heart beats painfully slow, threatening to stop altogether at the thought of his hands on her the same way he used to touch you.

At least you two aren’t together this time, right?

At least he’s not betraying your trust, your love, and your soul simply because he’s bored, right?

The lump in your throat is impossible to swallow past, and now all you want is to run home and never be seen again. Your appetite has diminished, and you feel yourself reverting back into who you were with him.

Whatever’s going on inside you is exactly the same as the two times you caught him while you were together.

You’re not over him. For some fucking reason, you still want him.

You curse under your breath, but you’re unable to pull your gaze away from his. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t look smug at all, but like he’s admiring you. As if he misses you, and whatever void he’s been trying to fill is just…perpetually empty.

The lady clearing her throat catches your attention. She hands you your bag, and you thank her and quickly depart the restaurant without a second glance at Chenle. While you refuse to let yourself cry, you can’t stop thinking about him even after you’ve been home for an hour. Your food remains untouched, and you pace around your kitchen like everything bad Chenle has ever done has dissipated into thin air.

You know exactly how this is going to play out. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to reach out to you, and you’re not strong enough to turn him away now. Even when you have Jisung, who has done nothing but be perfect to you, you just can’t fucking get out of this trap.

You should call Jisung. Tell him what happened and that you need him, but you don’t. There’s a sneaking suspicion that floods through your bones when you realize you don’t want to. Calling him means he’ll prevent you from talking to Chenle, and then Chenle will go back to whoever that girl is and do everything you like to her.

You curse under your breath, grasping onto the edge of the counter.

Will Jisung ever be enough for you?

Is peace…arbitrary? Redundant? Is it not what you want?

The whole time you were with Chenle, it’s what you craved. Stability, peace, love. Three things you never got, and now you have them. But it’s not the same with Jisung. You don’t want those things with anyone but Chenle, but at the same time, silence is unbearably loud. Louder than any of the times you’ve yelled at Chenle or vice versa.

In chaos, you flourish. Maybe…maybe, you’re unable to function without chaos. Perhaps that’s what keeps you alive, your gears turning, and your life harmonious.

How the fuck does that work? Is this all you’re good for?

Just like you predicted, a knock sounds at your door. With your palms sweating, you check through the peephole first, and your suspicions are confirmed. Chenle stands there, waiting for you to let him in.

You have two choices here.

You could ignore him. Leave him standing alone in your apartment complex’s hallway like the dumbass he is, floundering for your attention. You could choose Jisung, the peace and tranquility you know is suitable for the long term.

Or…

Or you could have him again. You could complete yourself in the only way you know how. Maybe the cycle will end this time. He’s been without you for so long, he might have learned his lesson.

It’s not even a fucking competition in your brain.

You unlock the door, confronting him face-to-face—alone—for the first time since you left him. Or made him leave, is more like it.

He doesn’t leave time for awkwardness or pleasantries. Instead, he launches himself forward, his hands cupping your cheeks as he smashes his lips to yours. In his grasp, you’re absolutely pliant, melting right into him just like you’ve done every other time before.

You moan into his mouth, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Too much time has passed already, so the last thing you want is to wait any more. The kiss is messy, rough in a way that has your teeth clashing together and tongues wrestling for dominance.

Jisung is great. Jisung is nice, but he’s not Chenle.

Chenle’s not scared of being rough, of the messiness you’ve craved without him.

“Hi, baby,” Chenle murmurs, pulling his shirt over his head before dipping back down to kiss along your neck. “I fucking missed you.”

You’re ashamed of how the feelings of uncertainty have turned into lust. It sends heat throughout your entire body, and you hate how damp you feel between your legs already.

“S’okay.” He nips against your pulse. “I know you missed me, too. Don’t waste that pretty little voice on words when I could make you moan instead.”

Much to his surprise, you push him back, chest heaving as you allow your gaze to rake over him. Unfortunately for you, you’ve never been attracted to anyone the way you are with Chenle. Even his mistreatment of you isn’t enough to make that fade.

Without hesitation, you pull your T-shirt off and toss it across the room. The next thing you know, he’s moving forward again, turning you around and pushing your stomach against the island. The chill has you pushing back against him, but it’s nothing compared to how hot every inch of your skin is.

“How many times?” he asks, grinding against your ass as he unbuttons your jeans and unzips them.

“What?” You’re unable to concentrate on anything except how close his fingers are to where you need them most.

He kisses your shoulder before nudging your bra strap down. Moving to the other, he repeats his action. “How many times have you fucked Jisung?”

“Chenle, I—”

“Don’t lie to me, slut. Tell me how many times you screwed my best friend.”

Your eyes nearly roll back. “Four. Five. I don’t know.”

“Are we fucking even now? That’s what you wanted, huh? A little bit of adventure because I fucked up?” His fingers close in around the sides of your neck. “You got it, baby. Don’t you ever…ever fuck him again, got it? Only I get you.”

You clench your thighs together, and a whimper gets caught in the back of your throat. At this point, you’d tell him anything to get him to touch you. And despite Jisung being the topic of conversation, he’s the last damn thing on your mind.

His breath fans across your ear, and through gritted teeth, he says, “If you want to cum tonight, you better fucking agree with me.”

“I won’t.” You quickly shake your head and force the words out through his grip on your throat. “Don’t want anyone else touching me but you.”

As a reward, his hand slips into your jeans. His fingertips connect with your clit through your panties, and your hips jolt.

“He can’t be doing a good job if you’re still so wet for me.” Chenle tsks. “I warned you he could never be me.”

You whine in response, grinding down onto his touch for more stimulation.

“What was it you said?” His circles on your bud are achingly slow.

“Chenle, please—”

“That’s not it.” He stops rubbing you, moving to take his hand out of your jeans.

“No, no.” You push his wrist down. “Fuck, I said I didn’t want him to be you. Please don’t stop.”

You feel his smirk against your skin as he returns to his slow, pleasure-filled torture. He rolls his hips, pressing his hard, straining cock against your ass. The counter digs almost uncomfortably into your midriff, but you couldn’t possibly care at a time like this. He leans back a bit to unclasp your bra, and while both of you are distracted with that, his hand moves inside your panties, tracing along your entrance before slowly sliding two fingers in.

You grip the edge of the counter, pushing back to tell him how much you need him. As soon as your bra falls to the floor, he’s pulling out of you, trailing his sticky fingers up your body until he reaches your breasts. He squeezes you, caging you in his grasp, his chest against your back as he uses your arousal to wet your nipples before he rubs his thumbs over them. 

Your back arches and your head falls back against him, quiet moans spilling from your lips at his slow pace. Every inch of you is on fire, and you crave him way too much for your own good.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he hums, and while his hands pleasure your tits, you can’t help but wish it was his mouth. His tongue is sinful, and you want all he has to offer.

When you rub your thighs together, you whine at the friction, your body sensitive from your need.

“Bet you just wanna be bent over and fucked like the little slut you are, huh?” He chuckles darkly. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna forget your own name.”

He pushes your jeans down your thighs, but doesn’t get them past your knees. His hand slides back into your panties, and two of his fingers are back inside you in record time. You sigh in relief, rocking against him to encourage him to hurry up.

This time, he moves fast, the palm of his hand hitting your throbbing clit with every thrust. You can’t contain your moans, grinding to get more stimulation on your bud.

Unfortunately for you, Chenle knows your body just as well as you do. Right when your walls start to clamp down as a warning sign of your impending orgasm, he removes his touch. You curse, whining like a child at the feeling of being left hanging.

He brings his hand up to your face. “Suck.”

You don’t hesitate. You take his fingers into your mouth, collecting your slick from them and swirling your tongue to make sure you get all of it. Hollowing your cheeks, you allow your eyes to roll back at the taste and how all it does is arouse you further. He slowly pulls them away from you, and an obscene pop follows.

“Did he make you this wet?” Chenle asks. “Tell me who’s better.”

“You,” you say quickly.

“Why?” he continues. “What did my slut learn after having her fun? Hm?”

“H-He’s too nice.” Your face burns, embarrassment creeping through every inch of your body. “Never like this for him.”

Chenle’s hand finds the middle of your shoulder blades and pushes you flat against the counter. You shiver in anticipation, pushing back against him. He rips your panties down, and a sharp slap on your ass has your hips jolting.

“Dripping like the little whore you are,” he scolds you, hitting the other cheek, too. “Gonna make a mess all over the kitchen, baby.”

“Lele, please—”

“Oh, now you wanna act like that, huh?” He unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking together. “You really think nicknames will make me go easy on you?”

“Don’t want you to,” you reply, letting your forehead drop against the granite.

He presses his fingertips against your clit, spreading your arousal around as he rubs fast circles. Your legs are weak and shaking, and your need for release and the arousal soaking your thighs only serve to add to your embarrassment.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He sucks in a deep breath. “No wonder he wanted to steal you from me.”

You arch your back to give him better access, moans spilling past your lips as you grind into his touch. “Chenle, please. Please let me cum. It feels so good.”

“You close?” He contemplates, his other hand massaging your ass.

“So fucking close,” you confirm. “Please.”

“Mm,” he murmurs, circling you faster. “You do sound fucking beautiful when you cum.”

For a moment, you believe he’ll actually let you finish. You build and build, hips frantically moving, but almost like he knows you’re one last rub away from shattering, he pulls away. Your whine turns into a loud moan when he slaps your clit hard.

“You don’t deserve it yet, baby. You don’t get to cum unless it’s on my cock. Understood?”

You're near tears at this point, panting in the aftermath of being denied your orgasm again. Chenle shuffles behind you, and the rest of his clothes hit the floor. He curses under his breath, and you close your eyes, imagining him with his fingers gripping his cock, unable to stop his hips from bucking into his fist.

“You won’t like what happens if you cum without permission, pretty girl.” He rubs the head of his cock along your folds to collect your arousal. “Soaking me already and I’m not even inside.”

He allows his tip to enter you just enough to begin a stretch. Your breath catches in your throat, and you try your best to stop yourself from pushing back until he’s all the way in.

The words escaping you are no longer coherent, but that seems to spur him forward more than anything else. He lands another smack on your ass, but before you even react to that, he thrusts himself in completely until his balls press against your clit.

Your eyes roll back as you let out an obscene, long moan. You move your hips to stimulate your throbbing bud, but he tightens his grip on you to keep you still. He pulls out slowly, lewd noises following.

“Hear that?” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “This pussy is mine. Fuck.”

“Only yours,” you agree.

When he starts thrusting, it wreaks havoc on your body. You're already seconds away from an orgasm considering how many you’ve been denied, but you do your best to listen to him. His skin slaps against yours as he quickens his pace to an almost impossible speed. You’re lost in bliss, walls pulsing around him. All you want is to finish, and hopefully he’ll allow it soon.

His moans mix with yours, and the longer the two of you are connected, the higher pitched his become. His nails dig into you while he pulls you back with every thrust forward. The tip of his cock slides right into your spot, and the entire world tilts on its axis.

You practically scream out a chorus of pleas, begging him to allow you to finish as his length rubs against your inner walls perfectly. The world around you becomes blurry, and you can’t be certain, but you’re pretty sure you’re fucking drooling.

“Do you deserve it?” He curses under his breath. “Answer me. Do you deserve to cum?”

You shake your head, brain too foggy to comprehend fully. “I need it. Please.”

He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he reaches around your legs and finds your clit with ease. All it takes is a brush of his fingertips to have you catapulting into your orgasm. Your walls clamp down on him hard, and his rhythm is thrown off. He refuses to stop until you’re through it, thrusting through the tightness.

When he pulls out abruptly, you whine.

“On your knees.” He pants, pulling you up and turning you toward him. “Hurry the fuck up, slut. On your fucking knees and suck my cock.”

You don’t need any help dropping to the ground, your legs weak anyway. Glancing up at him, you waste no time in wrapping your hand around him. He twitches in your grasp, and instead of teasing him, you start taking him in your mouth. He’s heavy on your tongue, achingly hard, and cutting off your air supply the deeper you take him into your throat.

“Don’t stop, baby.” He gathers your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you along his cock.

You follow his commands, a surge of pride welling in your chest when his hips involuntarily thrust. Peering up at him through your lashes, you’re surprised to see his phone in his hand. He’s recording you. It does nothing but make you bob your head faster, desperate to please him.

“Fuck, my little slut sucks cock so good,” he hisses, throwing his head back. “Wanna cum all over your face.”

You moan, the vibration making him gasp. He yanks your head back.

“Open your mouth,” he commands.

You do as he says, and before he even has to tell you, you stroke him until strings of white shoot from his tip. He moans, tilting your head up by your chin to see you painted in his cum.

You use your tongue to catch what landed on your lips, awaiting his next request. His chest heaves as he stares at you. He swipes your cheek with his thumb, and you take the initiative of taking it into your mouth.

He tosses his phone on the counter, gently helping you to your feet. “You okay?” he asks, voice much softer.

You nod timidly, the cloud slowly lifting from your brain. “I’m okay.”

“Did I hurt you?” He grabs one of the dish towels on the counter and uses it to wipe the remainder of his release off your face.

“No.” You shake your head, confusion sinking in when he helps you remove your clothes all the way instead of redressing you.

“Good. Let’s go shower, baby. I’ll clean you up.”

Your heart twists in your chest, but you allow him to intertwine your fingers and lead you into the bathroom. You’ve missed him so much, and no matter how much you fought, it would always end like this—with some sort of sexual make up to let out pent up aggressions, and then he took such good care of you.

Why couldn’t he be like that all the time?

Once you're beneath the warm water, he pulls you to his chest, cradling the back of your head as he presses his lips gently on yours. For a moment, you forget the rest of the world. Finally, the puzzle feels as if it’s been pieced back together.

You pull away first, scanning over his face, noting how the water makes his hair stick flat to his forehead. Smiling, you run your fingers through it to push it back. He gulps, gaze softer than you’re used to as he holds you close.

“(Y/N), I’m…” He pauses. “I love you. Don’t leave me like that again.”

You don’t hesitate to nod. Cupping his cheek, you run your thumb along his skin. “I love you, too. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chenle washes your hair, gently lathers your body with soap, and presses soft kisses on your skin. These are the moments you miss. The ones where he shows you he loves you, that he cares. You want to live in these moments forever, but it’s normal that they don’t last.

All couples fight. All couples retaliate at each other.

The two of you aren’t above it, clearly, but the most important thing is that he’s here with you now…right?

It doesn’t matter if he’s strayed before. He always comes back to you.

This time will be different. You feel it in your bones.

Once you’re done in the shower, he helps dry you off and massages your shoulders. It doesn’t matter how much time passes—you’ll always be his. He takes care of you. He loves you.

When you’re completely dry, the two of you climb right into bed. He pulls you to him, kissing all over your face despite how clearly tired he is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice strained. “For everything, (Y/N). We’re gonna be better this time. I promise.”

You’ve learned to be weary of his promises, but that doesn’t mean you don’t hope he means it.

“I’m sorry, too.” You kiss the base of his neck. “Fighting fire with fire is never the right answer.”

His breathing evens out before yours, and you stare up at your ceiling, deep in thought. Everything is overwhelming, but one thing settling inside you has your heart shattering just like the glass Chenle carelessly swiped off the counter.

You’re with Jisung. You told Jisung you wanted him, that you wanted to see where things went, but here you are, back with Chenle.

You’ve become everything you hated Chenle for being.

What the fuck do you tell Jisung?

[paramaniaa]

pov you're on ft with wonbin

[paramaniaa]

literally request shit im bored

guys pls start requesting stuff i have no ideas for what to post. also lost luggage chap 3 done! posting tmr🩷

[paramaniaa]

CRIMSON DREAM ୨୧ ot7 nct dream written series

chapter 2

the group . . . 1.1k

y/n's second day at the book nook was a whirlwind. the cozy atmosphere of the bookstore café had quickly become familiar, but today felt different. there was a buzz in the air, as if something—or someone—was about to shift.

by noon, the café was bustling with the usual crowd, and y/n was getting into the swing of things. she smiled at renjun, who was organizing a shelf of books in the back corner, before greeting a new customer who renjun seemed to know.

the man in front of her was dressed in scrubs, his face looking a little worn but still friendly. his dark hair was slightly messy, and he seemed like he hadn’t slept in hours. he gave her a tired but warm smile.

“hi there,” he said, his voice soft. “i’ll have a black coffee, please.”

“sure thing,” y/n replied, quickly setting to work on his order. as she poured the coffee, her hand trembled slightly, and she knocked the cup over, spilling the hot liquid across the counter.

“oh no! i’m so sorry,” y/n said, reaching for paper towels to clean the mess.

the man let out a soft laugh, his eyes twinkling despite his exhaustion. “it’s fine. i’m already running on four hours of sleep; what’s a little spilled coffee?”

y/n laughed nervously, wiping down the counter. “i’ll get you another one right away.”

the man waved it off with a chuckle. “no need. that was enough to wake me up, honestly.”

she smiled, relieved. “i’ll still make you another, just in case.”

“thanks,” he said. “i’m jaemin, by the way.” he paused. “you’re new here, right?”

y/n nodded. “yeah, just started yesterday. i’m y/n.”

“nice to meet you. hopefully, i won’t be too much trouble while i’m here,” jaemin said with a grin. he seemed to have a natural charm about him that made y/n feel at ease.

“don’t worry about it,” y/n replied with a smile, feeling a bit more comfortable around him now.

jaemin took his coffee and gave her a playful salute before heading to a corner of the café to settle in with his drink. as y/n watched him, she couldn't help but feel a small flutter in her chest. there was something about him—his easygoing nature, his easy smile—that made her feel like everything was going to be okay.

later in the afternoon, a group of five guys walked into the book nook, the doorbell ringing behind them as they entered. y/n noticed them immediately. they were loud, animated, and full of energy—an obvious contrast to the quiet atmosphere of the café.

haechan was the first to spot them and immediately waved them over to the counter. “guys! you’re late, what’s up?”

jaemin smiled at them and introduced y/n to the group. “hey, this is y/n. she’s working here now.”

as the boys crowded around the counter, y/n felt a little overwhelmed but also intrigued. there was mark, who smiled at her warmly, his dark hair styled casually. then there was chenle, who grinned at her like they were already friends, and jisung, who seemed a little shy but gave her a friendly wave.

finally, there was jeno, who stood quietly at the back of the group, who smiled brightly at her. 

“so, you’re the new girl in town, huh?” chenle asked, leaning on the counter with a grin.

y/n smiled nervously. “yeah, just moved here a few days ago.”

haechan, ever the troublemaker, leaned in and nudged her playfully. “you should come hang out with us sometime. we’re always up to something fun. the town may be small, but we make the most of it!”

renjun, who had been silently observing, raised an eyebrow. “are you sure she wants to hang out with you guys? you’re not exactly subtle.”

the group chuckled, but haechan didn’t miss a beat. “what’s life without a little chaos?”

y/n hesitated for a moment, not used to being invited into someone’s circle so quickly. but their friendly demeanor made it hard to say no.

“i don’t know…” she started, but then she noticed the way they all looked at her with curiosity and excitement.

“you won’t regret it,” mark added with a wink, his friendly expression easing her doubts.

before she could respond, jeno stepped forward, his voice calm and polite. “it’s not a big deal, really. we’re just a bunch of friends hanging out. no pressure.” he gave her a small, reassuring smile.

something in his gaze lingered a little too long, making y/n feel a bit self-conscious, but she quickly pushed the feeling aside. he was just being friendly.

“okay, sure. i’ll think about it,” she replied, her voice a little unsure.

the group’s cheers filled the café as they headed to a nearby table, and y/n went back to her duties, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves.

after work, y/n decided to ride her bike home instead of walking. she was eager to relax after a busy day, and the fresh air would be a nice change. but as she pedaled down the street, she heard a sharp snap.

her heart sank as she looked down to find the bike chain had broken. she sighed, glancing around for help, but the street was empty.

just as she was about to start walking the bike home, a figure appeared from across the street. it was jeno.

he walked over casually, his hands in his pockets. “looks like you’re in trouble,” he said, his tone warm but matter-of-fact.

jeno points at a small apartment building. “the guys and i live there, do you need help?”

y/n blinked in surprise. “oh, hey. yeah, the chain just snapped. i don’t know much about fixing bikes.”

“no problem,” jeno replied, kneeling down to inspect the bike. “i work at a nearby auto shop. i can fix it for you.”

y/n watched as he worked quickly and efficiently, his hands steady and focused. she thanked him as he finished, and he smiled back, brushing off her thanks with a humble shrug.

“it’s no big deal,” he said softly. “i’m just glad i could help.”

but as he handed her back the bike, y/n caught him staring at her for a moment longer than was necessary. there was something unreadable in his gaze, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“thanks again,” she said, heart stomach filled with butterflies

“no problem, see you around yn.” jeno replied with a quiet smile walking, as she pedaled away.

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[paramaniaa]

݁ᛪ༙DREAM(ESCAPE) ݁ᛪ༙

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

ready, set.. start! introducing…. ➤

WARNING: This story contains violence, bodily harm, mentions of attempted murder/suicide, self harm, smut, kidnapping, manipulation, dubious content, HEAVY angst, if that’s not for you I suggest you click off of this. Get it, got it? Great!

*VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED*

Summary: Moving to a new town for college didn’t seem so bad. At least, that’s what you thought at first. Now your living paycheck to paycheck, trying to balance work, grades, and the last bit of your sanity. Things start to take an odd turn when you decide to loosen up for once in a while and go to a party. Unbeknownst to you, you accidentally get dragged into a friend group you had no knowledge of prior to this party. Now that they have you, they don’t plan on giving you up. This fic dives into the physiological aspect of one’s being. Seeing how far you can go, while your slowly blinded by the people you thought where your friends, only to be lead to belive something different. You’re slowly manipulated by the people you had once called your friends, people that you would never once in your life second guess. It soon becomes a problem when you start questioning your sanity and your existence as a person as a whole. With you constantly being on edge something always one step behind you, constantly always watching. Lurking only in the shadows just out of view. Will you get out of this horrifying story? Or will you succumb to its ending? 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯..

Parings: NCT dream x fem!reader

Themes: Horror, suspense, thriller, drama, unrequited love, Very, VERY dark themes.

INTO; DREAM

✎jeno

✎jaemin

✎renjun

✎haechan

✎mark

✎jisung

✎chenle

teaser coming soon!

[paramaniaa]

*WARNING*

This blog WILL contain triggering, dark content.

YOU are responsible for your own media consumption. Be mindful of the warnings and NEVER skip them. I am not accountable, nor am I responsible for what ever may result from you choosing to interact with my work. Trigger warnings will be added to the top of every post, and the tags. I don’t know how these people act in real life, but I’m sure that what I write on this blog doesn’t define them as a person in the real world. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Do what is best for you.

⛧☾REQUESTS☽⛧

-I don’t mind taking requests, infact i enjoy getting requests!

-As said before, this is a DARK CONTENT, DEAD DOVE;DO NOT EAT BLOG.

-I would pretty much write for anything accept the following.

>INCEST

>ANYTHING SCAT, VOMIT RELATED.

>ILLEGAL AGE GAPS

-If it’s not on this list, I’ll pretty much write for it! So don’t be afraid to request, we all deserve to escape from reality for a while ;p

⛧☾AGE LIMITS☽⛧

- While I prefer for my account to be 17+, I understand that some people might be a little younger than that, so minors DNI!! accounts that have anything 17- (age wise) in their bio WILL BE BLOCKED.

⛧☾WHO, WHAT I WRITE FOR☽⛧

- I’m willing to write for nct, any unit (wish included, not the underage members ) INCLUDING wayv.

- MAINLY NCT

- RIIZE (OT7)

- BOYNEXTDOOR

- ENHYPEN

- SUPERM

- SHINEE

- EXO

- GOT7

- I’f your ult group isnt on here, feel free to request it from me!

- I’ll write for other fandoms too sometimes, maybe if you catch me on a good day :D

THAT CONCLUDES MY BLOG INTRODUCTION. IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS FEEL FREE TO ASK!