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The night air is heavy with summer warmth, thick with the scent of spilled alcohol and something faintly sweet—probably from the fruit punch Jisung had spiked earlier in the night. The bass from the speakers inside thrums against Donghyeok’s skin, the kind of deep, vibrating beat that makes the floor feel unsteady even when she’s standing still.
She steps outside anyway.
The backyard is dimly lit, the only real source of light coming from a single street lamp flickering at the edge of the driveway. Somewhere inside, Chenle is laughing—loud and full-bellied, the way he always does when he’s had just enough to drink. Someone else yells his name, something playful and teasing, and the laughter only gets louder. The party is still alive, still going strong, but Donghyeok needs a moment away from it all.
She digs the cigarette pack out of her jacket pocket, knocking one loose with her thumb before slipping it between her lips. Menthol. The taste is cool and familiar, grounding in a way that nothing else is tonight. She lights up, inhales, and breathes out slowly.
She doesn’t hear Jaemin approach, not at first. The music drowns out the sound of the back door opening, the shuffle of footsteps across the pavement. It’s only when Jaemin settles beside her, close enough that their elbows almost brush, that Donghyeok realizes she’s not alone anymore.
Jaemin is dressed like she always is: effortlessly, carelessly perfect. Her black slip dress clings in all the right places, the hem barely brushing mid-thigh, delicate lace teasing at the edges. An oversized hoodie, probably Mark’s, hangs off her shoulders, the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal her wrists, her fingers adorned with thin silver rings that catch the light when she moves. Her hair is slightly tousled, like she’s run her fingers through it one too many times, and her lipstick—deep, wine-colored—looks a little smudged.
Donghyeok, in contrast, is wearing jean shorts that are frayed at the edges, the leather jacket slung over her shoulders worn but well-loved. The baby tee underneath is tight, hugging her frame, the neckline just low enough to be distracting. She doesn’t dress for attention, not really, but she’s always had a way of pulling it in regardless. The scuffed heels of her boots dig into the pavement as she shifts her weight, cigarette balanced between her fingers.
Jaemin knocks her knee against Donghyeok’s, the press of skin brief but deliberate. The warmth of it lingers, despite the night air cooling the sweat-dampened heat of the party still clinging to their skin. It’s casual, careless—like everything Jaemin does—but there’s an intent behind it, something unreadable in the way she lingers just a second too long before pulling away.
She tilts her chin toward the cigarette in Donghyeok’s hand, the gesture slow and lazy, like she’s asking for something without really asking at all. The streetlamp overhead flickers, the smudged edge of her lipstick making her look untouchable, untamed.
Donghyeok blows smoke through her nose, watching the way Jaemin’s gaze follows the cigarette instead of her. She lifts an eyebrow, wordless, waiting.
Jaemin doesn’t usually smoke. Mark doesn’t like the smell of it.
She plucks the cigarette from Donghyeok’s fingers without asking and brings it to her lips with a practiced ease that doesn’t quite match the way she inhales; too fast, too deep.
Donghyeok watches with her lips slightly parted, mouth dry as she watches Jaemin pucker her lips around where her own were just a second ago.
Jaemin barely hides the wrinkle of her nose, the smoke curling past her lips in a slow, deliberate stream. It’s a small thing, the way her expression flickers—annoyance, maybe distaste—but Donghyeok catches it anyway.
Jaemin clicks her tongue, tapping ash onto the pavement. “Menthol?” she muses, inspecting the cigarette like it’s somehow offended her personally. She lets the cigarette dangle between her fingers before taking another slow, deliberate pull and sighs. “Figures.”
Donghyeok huffs, reaching to take it back, but Jaemin turns her wrist just enough to keep it out of reach.
“I still have a stash of lemon-flavored ones from Japan,” she continues, her voice smooth, almost bored. “Bought a few cartons when I was there. Mark thinks I finished them months ago, but I ration them out properly.” She exhales, lips quirking up at the corners. “Unlike you.”
Donghyeok snorts, crossing her arms as she leans back against the metal railing behind her. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she drawls. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be rationing my bad habits.”
Jaemin hums, sucking on the cigarette again. Slower this time, more controlled, like she’s adjusting. “You’re not. But if you’re going to ruin your lungs, you might as well do it with something that tastes good.”
Donghyeok fumbles for her pack again, fingers clumsy as she pulls it out of her jacket pocket. She feels the cool metal of the lighter against her palm before she flips the cap, flicking it to life with a soft spark. Her hands shake slightly as she lights the new cigarette, trying to focus on the task, anything to distract herself from Jaemin.
Jaemin takes another drag, slow and deliberate, her gaze darting over to Donghyeok. She watches her struggle with the lighter, then raises an eyebrow when Donghyeok finally brings the cigarette to her lips.
Donghyeok watches right back as Jaemin lets out a breath, the smoke curling around her like something meant to be there. It’s strange, seeing her like this, yet here she is, pressing the filter back to her lips like she’s done this a thousand times.
“Didn’t think you liked cigarettes at all,” she says, voice quieter now, testing.
Jaemin flicks the cigarette, watching the ash fall. “I don’t, usually,” she admits. Then she looks at Donghyeok, something unreadable in her gaze. “But you do. Don’t you?”
Donghyeok hesitates, just for a second, and it’s a second too long. Her gaze catches on Jaemin’s lips: the deep red, the way they wrap around the cigarette, the way they part just slightly as she exhales, smoke slipping past like something intimate.
For a moment, she allows herself to picture Jaemin smoking, hoping the taste of tobacco will bring Donghyeok to mind. She looks away before she can think too hard about it, before Jaemin can notice.
Jaemin notices.
She smirks, tilting her head slightly, tapping the cigarette against her knee. "You're cute," she murmurs, voice barely audible above the hum of the party behind them.
Donghyeok rolls her eyes, shifting her weight against the railing. "Shut up," she mutters, hoping the warmth rising in her chest doesn’t make it to her face.
Jaemin laughs, soft but knowing. She rolls the filter between her thumb and forefinger instead of bringing it back to her lips. “So,” she muses, “Mark ever tell you he tried smoking once?”
Donghyeok blinks at the sudden change in topic. “Mark?” she repeats, skeptical. “No way. He’s too much of a goody-two-shoes.”
Jaemin grins, turning so she faces Donghyeok, one knee pressed against hers again. “Yeah. One hit and he gagged so hard he almost threw up.”
Donghyeok barks out a laugh before she can stop herself. “Oh my god.”
Jaemin nods, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “Yeah. He spent the rest of the night brushing his teeth and swearing he was never touching one again.”
Donghyeok shakes her head, still grinning, but there’s something else creeping in now. Something quieter, something that feels like nostalgia and longing all tangled up together. She doesn’t want to think about Mark right now. Not when Jaemin is still here, still sitting so close, still looking at her like she sees more than Donghyeok is willing to give.
Jaemin studies her for a beat too long, then slowly exhales, watching the smoke dissipate.
“You think about him a lot, don’t you?” she asks, voice softer now, less teasing.
Donghyeok freezes. The question is gentle, deceptively absentminded, but it cuts through her like a blade anyway.
She looks away, fixing her gaze on the distant glow of streetlights, on the way the smoke drifts lazily into the air. Anywhere but Jaemin.
“I mean,” she starts, forcing her voice into something light, something indifferent, “he’s been my best friend since we were kids. Kind of hard not to.”
Jaemin hums, dragging her thumb across the cigarette filter, smudging the lipstick stain she left behind. “That’s not what I meant,” she says, and Donghyeok knows it’s not.
She swallows, forcing a scoff. “What, you want me to confess or something?”
Jaemin tilts her head, watching her, unreadable as ever. “Would you?”
Donghyeok finally looks at her. That's a mistake because Jaemin is still too close, still watching her like she’s picking apart a puzzle, and Donghyeok can’t tell if she’s enjoying it or if she’s just waiting for the inevitable moment where she finally breaks.
She clenches her jaw, forcing her expression into something neutral. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “You guys are dating. It doesn’t matter, does it.”
Jaemin takes a final drag before bringing it up to Donghyeok’s mouth, waiting expectantly. Donghyeok stares at her almost dumbly, her own cigarette held loosely between her fingers. She leans in slowly and wraps her lips around the filter, tasting the stickiness of Jaemin’s lipstick-lipgloss.
Jaemin pulls the cigarette away and tosses it carelessly, the embers dying out as she grinds it into the pavement with the toe of her shoe. Then she exhales and leans in just enough for Donghyeok, still dazed, to feel the warmth of her breath.
“You know,” Jaemin says, voice quieter now, like she’s telling a secret, “Mark and I have always wanted you.”
Donghyeok stops breathing.
Jaemin straightens, brushing nonexistent ash from her hoodie, looking completely unaffected. “Anyway,” she says, lazy, like she didn’t just shatter the world Donghyeok thought she knew. “See you inside.”
And then she turns and walks away. She leaves Donghyeok standing there, pulse roaring in her ears.
The cigarette in her hand has burned down dangerously close to her fingers, but she barely registers the heat. Jaemin’s words replay in her head, looping over and over. She had always known how she felt about Mark. That was easy. Predictable. A constant in her life, something that made sense even when everything else didn’t. Jaemin was everything she never expected.
Her pulse is a relentless drum against her ribs, and she suddenly feels unsteady, like the ground beneath her has shifted and she’s the last one to realize it. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her hands are still shaking.
The muffled sound of laughter and music drifts from inside the house. The party is still going, people still drinking, still laughing, still existing like nothing just changed.
She’d always thought of herself as an outsider in their little world, a third wheel without the right to interfere, to even think about what might exist between Mark and Jaemin. Mark had always been hers, even if only in the quietest, most unspoken way. Jaemin had always been… Well, Jaemin. She’d been untouchable, something to admire from a distance, something she never let herself think of having.
She loves them both and she always will and she’s sorry. What a useless word.
The way Jaemin said it tonight, like it was nothing, like it had always been this way, like it had always been there. Donghyeok’s fingers curl around the railing, a strange pressure in her chest. She shakes her head, fingers twitching with the need to move, to do something, anything to shake the feeling of being caught. It’s strange to feel this way, like the ground beneath her has shifted without her noticing.
It felt like it happened in pieces. First, it was Mark, then Jaemin, then both of them, slipping into her heart in small moments that added up to something bigger than she was ready for. She never knew how to separate the two, never knew how to fit these feelings into the neat box she had created for them.
Mark and Jaemin had always been untouchable. In her mind, they were too perfect together to ever want her. She’d always thought they fit together in a way that just made sense. Where Mark was steady, Jaemin was unpredictable. They completed each other in ways Donghyeok could never quite put into words.
She’d seen it a thousand times before, in the small things. The way Jaemin would steal food off Mark’s plate like it belonged to her, and Mark would barely react, just nudging the rest toward her without a word. The way Mark’s fingers would absentmindedly curl around Jaemin’s wrist when they walked through crowded places, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
God, they were beautiful together.
Donghyeok had always been content to admire from a distance, knowing some things weren’t meant to be touched, only appreciated.
Standing here, alone in the dim light of the streetlamp, she’s left wondering how much of it was actually untouchable, and how much of it had just been something she couldn’t see.
Jaemin’s words replay in her mind. Mark and I have always wanted you. It’s all she can think about.
The filter presses against her lips as she inhales, the familiar burn spreading through her lungs, the taste of it bitter in her mouth. She drops it and grinds it under her boot as she straightens up. For a moment, she just stands there, watching the last of the ember fade into nothing.
With a deep sigh, she pushes herself away from the railing and heads back toward the house, her footsteps heavy against the pavement. She hesitates for just a second when she reaches the door, hand hovering over the handle, and then opens it. The warmth of the house hits her immediately.
Donghyeok needs a distraction.
Her eyes drift across the room and land on Jisung, who’s standing near the edge of a group, half-heartedly talking to someone but mostly focused on Chenle, who’s laughing too loud and too brightly at something. Jisung’s gaze is soft, affection spilling out of him as he watches Chenle with that unmistakable, lovestruck look in his eyes. The person sighs and leaves looking put-out.
Donghyeok hesitates, but then her feet are already moving, pulling her in his direction. She makes her way over, tapping Jisung lightly on the shoulder.
He turns, breaking out of his daze, his expression shifting from dreamy to something a little more grounded. “Hey,” he greets, his voice casual, though the soft smile on his face doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You okay?”
Donghyeok nods, offering a tight smile. “Yeah, just needed a breather. Got a little... overwhelmed out there.” Her voice sounds smaller than she intended, and she quickly clears her throat, shifting the conversation away from herself. “What’s got you so distracted, huh? Thought you were talking to someone.”
Jisung glances back at Chenle, still lost in whatever joke he’s telling, and a smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, well, I was,” he says, voice light, “but you know...”
Donghyeok quirks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Busy watching Chenle act like an idiot?” she teases, trying to lighten the mood.
Jisung looks back at her with a smile. “You know it. Can’t get enough of that guy.” His eyes dart back to Chenle, and Donghyeok watches, noticing how the smile on his face softens as he watches his best friend.
It’s strange, she thinks. How easily Jisung lets his feelings spill out. How easily he wears his affection on his sleeve. She’s always been so much more guarded, so much more afraid to show what she really feels.
She looks back at Jisung and does her best to shake off the thoughts clouding her mind. “Well, maybe you should go talk to him,” she says, nudging him gently with her elbow.
He shakes his head, still smiling. “Nah. He’ll come over here eventually. You know how he is.” His gaze flickers back to her, a little more serious now. “But, hey... you’re sure you’re good, right? You looked like you were thinking too much out there.”
Donghyeok stifles a sigh, running a hand through her hair, and gives him a small nod. “I’m fine.” She forces a smile. “You know how it is.”
Jisung eyes her for a moment, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he just leans back against the wall and glances over at Chenle again. “Yeah. I get it.”
The air shifts around Donghyeok when she hears the soft shuffle of footsteps, and she glances up just in time to see Jaemin making her way toward her. There's a predatory grace to her movements. Her presence fills the room in a way that seems effortless. Mark is a step behind her, looking sheepish in a way that only makes the scene feel more surreal. His hand is entwined with Jaemin’s, and their fingers are clasped loosely.
Jaemin’s eyes lock onto Donghyeok, and she barely glances at Jisung before she speaks.
“Renjun’s looking for you,” Jaemin says to him, her tone light, almost bored. She doesn’t wait for a response, just flicks her gaze toward Mark, who gives her a quiet smile and looks like he’s trying to figure out how to step back without appearing too awkward.
Jisung blinks at her, a little surprised, then looks between Jaemin and Mark before standing up from the couch. “Alright, I’ll go find her,” he says quickly, shooting Donghyeok a brief glance before leaving them alone.
The moment Jisung disappears into the crowd, the tension settles between the three of them, and she feels every inch of it. Jaemin doesn’t sit, doesn’t even bother with any small talk. She leans against the back of the couch, arms casually crossed, her eyes never leaving Donghyeok.
Mark shifts on his feet, his grip on Jaemin’s hand tightening slightly. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, his usual easy going demeanor faltering in the silence that falls between them. Donghyeok's heart races as she looks between Mark and Jaemin, unsure where to settle her gaze.
Mark clears his throat, breaking the silence. "Hey," he says softly, his free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "We, uh... we were looking for you."
Jaemin's lips curl into a smirk. "Were we?" she laughs, her eyes never leaving Donghyeok. "I thought we just happened to stumble upon her."
Mark rolls his eyes, but there's fondness in the gesture. "Come on, Jaemin-ah." He glances at Donghyeok again, inexplicably shy. "We missed you inside."
"Did you enjoy your cigarette?" Jaemin asks, her tone teasing. "Or were you too distracted thinking about what I said?"
Mark's brow furrows slightly, glancing at Jaemin. "What did you say?"
Jaemin just hums, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Mark's arm. "Oh, nothing important. Just the truth."
Donghyeok swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "I don't know what you mean," she manages bravely, but her voice wavers.
She shifts her weight, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they all are. She can smell Jaemin's perfume, something sweet but sharp, like citrus and spice. It mingles with the faint scent of Mark's cologne, a heady combination that makes her feel slightly dizzy.
Jaemin tilts her head, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "You sure about that?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mark sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Jaemin, don't—"
But Jaemin doesn't let him finish. She pushes off the couch, stepping forward until there's barely any space between her and Donghyeok. "You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?" she asks, voice low, almost coaxing. "Back outside. What I said."
Donghyeok breathes in sharply. She doesn't trust herself to speak. Doesn't trust the way her pulse hammers in her throat or the way Jaemin's gaze holds her in place like gravity itself.
Mark shifts beside them, the warmth of his presence grounding yet somehow making everything more suffocating. "Jaemin," he warns again, though softer this time.
Jaemin finally breaks eye contact, her smirk softening just a fraction. "Relax, Mark," she drawls, stepping back, but not before her fingers brush against Donghyeok’s wrist, fleeting but deliberate. "Just asking a question."
The low lighting of the room casts shadows across their faces, accentuating Jaemin's sharp cheekbones and the curve of Mark's lips as he leans in closer.
"You look incredible tonight," Mark murmurs, trying to change the subject, his breath warm against her ear. His hand brushes her arm, and Donghyeok can feel the searing touch even through the sleeve of her jacket.
Donghyeok's body goes rigid at the sensation. The words are simple, almost casual, but the way Mark says them—low, intimate, like it’s meant just for her—makes her stomach twist.
Jaemin watches, her grin deepening. "Careful, Mark," she murmurs. "She might think you actually mean that."
Mark shoots her a look. He doesn’t move away, though, his fingers ghosting over Donghyeok’s arm like he’s testing the waters, like he’s waiting for her to pull back.
But she doesn’t.
“You do, by the way,” Jaemin admits, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair away from her forehead. “You’re always beautiful, but you look especially good tonight.”
Donghyeok huffs, shaky, her skin burning where Jaemin’s fingers graze. Mark’s hand lingers on her arm, his warmth grounding yet unsettling all at once. His jaw tenses slightly, like he’s considering something, but he says nothing.
Jaemin tilts her head, eyes flickering between them before settling on Donghyeok again. "You don’t take compliments well, do you?" she muses, voice teasing.
Donghyeok lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "Not when they come from you two," she admits, barely recognizing her own voice.
Jaemin grins. "Why? Because you don’t believe us, or because you do?"
Donghyeok opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
Mark hums, stepping back just enough to meet her gaze. "You should believe it," he says, quieter now but still eager. "It’s true."
Jaemin’s eyes glimmer with something unreadable as she lifts a hand, tapping her finger along Donghyeok’s arm in slow, rhythmic beats. Barely there, just enough to make her skin tingle in anticipation.
“You know,” Jaemin muses, voice light but deliberate, “you should come home with us tonight.”
Donghyeok’s breath stutters.
Mark’s fingers flex slightly against her arm, but he says nothing, just watches, waiting, letting Jaemin take the lead.
Jaemin leans in, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down Donghyeok’s spine. “Would you like that?” she asks, her tone teasing but undeniably serious beneath the playfulness.
Donghyeok swallows hard, her pulse a frantic drumbeat in her throat. Jaemin watches her reaction closely, the slow tap of her finger trailing down Donghyeok’s arm before stopping just above her wrist. She tilts her head, expectant. Mark doesn’t push, but his presence is just as heavy, steady and warm at her side. His fingers ghost over her skin, a silent reassurance, a question of his own.
Donghyeok’s mind races. This is dangerous. This is tempting.
“I—” She clears her throat, pulse thrumming against her ribs. “Are you two always this… forward?”
Jaemin grins, a slow, knowing curve of her lips. “Only when we know the answer before we ask.”
Mark winces, shaking his head. “Jaemin.” But there’s something in his tone—something amused, something that says she’s not entirely wrong.
Donghyeok forces herself to tear her gaze away from Jaemin’s piercing stare. She looks at Mark instead, at the way his hand hovers near hers, waiting but never forcing. There’s patience in him, in the way he lets her think, lets her feel the weight of the moment without demanding an answer.
She could walk away. She could laugh it off, pretend the tension between them is nothing more than a trick of the low lighting and the rush of the night.
Or she could stay.
Jaemin’s fingers trail back up her arm, featherlight. “Come with us,” she murmurs. “Let’s stop pretending this isn’t exactly what we all want.”
Mark shifts beside her, his presence a steady, burning thing. He doesn’t say anything, but the way his eyes search hers—soft, hopeful—says enough.
“You’re thinking too much,” Jaemin murmurs, her fingers tapping against Donghyeok’s wrist again—one, two, three—before she finally, deliberately, laces them through Donghyeok’s hand.
Mark shifts beside them, watching the way Donghyeok’s lips part like she wants to protest, like she wants to say something that might ruin this, but no words come.
Jaemin tilts her head, leaning in close enough that her lips barely brush Donghyeok’s ear. “Say yes.”
It’s not a demand. It’s not even a plea. It’s a dare.
Mark sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, but he doesn’t stop Jaemin. Instead, he looks at Donghyeok, his voice softer when he speaks. “Only if you want to.”
Donghyeok swallows hard. Her heart pounds so loud she’s sure they can hear it. Jaemin squeezes her hand, her thumb brushing slow circles against her skin, and Mark looks at her like she’s something worth waiting for. Recklessness doesn’t seem so bad, all of a sudden.
Donghyeok bites her lip, then, barely above a whisper:
“…Okay.”
Mark smiles, relieved. Jaemin’s grin is nothing short of victorious, her fingers still curled around Donghyeok’s hand as if she’s afraid she might change her mind.
“Let’s get out of here, then,” Jaemin murmurs, tugging Donghyeok closer for just a moment before letting go.
Mark doesn’t hesitate, his hand finding the small of Donghyeok’s back as they move through the crowd. The party continues around them—music pulsing, voices blending into an indistinct hum—but none of it matters right now.
The cool night air hits as they step outside, crisp against Donghyeok’s flushed skin. The street is lined with parked cars, the distant sounds of the city filtering through the quiet. Jaemin breathes in deeply, stretching her arms above her head before turning to Mark.
“You’ll drive, right?” she asks, already knowing the answer.
Mark jingles his keys in response, flashing a small smile. “Of course.”
Donghyeok follows them down the street, her heartbeat matching the steady click of Jaemin’s boots against the pavement. Mark’s car sits under the glow of a streetlamp: sleek, familiar, a place she’s been before, but never like this.
Mark unlocks it with a press of a button, opening the passenger door for Jaemin before glancing at Donghyeok. “You can sit in the back,” he says, his voice soft but certain.
Jaemin smirks, catching on immediately. “Yeah,” she echoes, sliding into the front seat. “Sit in the middle.”
Donghyeok hesitates only for a second before obeying, slipping inside and settling in the middle seat, leaning forward so that she’s between them. The door shuts with a quiet click, sealing them in a space that feels smaller, heavier with something unspoken.
Mark starts the car, the soft rumble of the engine filling the silence as he pulls onto the road. Jaemin twists in her seat, resting her arm on the headrest as she looks back at Donghyeok, eyes glinting with something unreadable.
“Nervous?” she asks, voice laced with amusement.
Donghyeok swallows. “No.”
Jaemin hums like she doesn’t quite believe her, reaching out to toy with a loose thread on Donghyeok’s sleeve. Mark, ever steady, just glances at her through the rearview mirror, a small smile playing at his lips.
“You’re good,” he murmurs. “Just relax.”
Donghyeok exhales slowly. The city lights blur past in a kaleidoscope of neon and shadow as Mark navigates the late-night streets. Donghyeok leans back, watching the play of light across Mark's face, the way his jaw tenses slightly as he focuses on the road. The car is filled with a thrumming energy, anticipation crackling between them like static electricity.
Jaemin hums softly, a melody Donghyeok doesn't recognize, her fingers tapping an idle rhythm against the car door. The streetlights catch on her rings, sending brief flashes of silver dancing across the interior. Donghyeok's gaze is drawn to the curve of Jaemin's neck, the way her hair falls in soft waves, framing her face.
Donghyeok shifts, tearing her gaze back up to meet Jaemin’s eyes. “You’re staring,” she points out, tilting her head slightly. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”
Donghyeok smiles at her. “Why not both?”
Mark huffs a quiet laugh from the driver’s seat, shaking his head.
“I don't feel safe with you staring me down like that,” Jaemin says, snickering.
Donghyeok scoffs, crossing her arms. “Whatever. You’re the one who asked me to be here.”
Jaemin raises a brow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh? So you’re saying you don’t want to be here?” She leans in. “You’d rather be somewhere else right now?”
Donghyeok opens her mouth to quip something back, but the words catch in her throat. She hesitates for a beat too long, and Jaemin catches it in an instant, her smirk deepening.
Mark glances at her through the mirror again, his gaze unreadable but amused. “That shut you up fast,” he teases.
Donghyeok clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “I just—” She pauses, then narrows her eyes playfully. “I’m just pacing myself. Wouldn’t want to give you both the satisfaction of thinking you’ve won already.”
Jaemin chuckles, the sound warm and indulgent. “Sweetheart,” she murmurs, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair behind Donghyeok’s ear. “We both know you already lost the second you got in this car.”
Donghyeok’s breath catches just long enough for Jaemin to notice. Her skin prickles when Mark suddenly lets out a strangled groan, knuckles going white round the steering wheel. “Jaemin,” he gasps, surprised.
She blinks, startled by Mark's sudden outburst. Her eyes dart lower, where she notices Jaemin's other hand creeping up Mark's thigh, fingers dancing dangerously close to the zipper of his jeans. The muscles in Mark's jaw clench as he tries to keep his focus on the road, but his breath hitches audibly when Jaemin's palm presses firmly against the growing bulge in his pants.
Jaemin turns again, shooting a mischievous grin at Donghyeok over her shoulder. Her eyes glitter with wicked delight as she slowly traces the outline of Mark's hardening length through the denim. His hips twitch involuntarily, chasing the friction of her touch.
"Jaemin," Mark grits out, voice strained. "I'm trying to drive."
Jaemin laughs at him. "Then drive," she says, not stopping. Her fingers deftly pop open the button of Mark's jeans.
Donghyeok watches, transfixed. She shifts in her seat, heat pooling low in her belly. Mark's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, meeting Donghyeok's gaze for a brief, intense moment before snapping back to the road. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard.
"We're almost there," he manages, voice rough.
Jaemin hums in acknowledgment but doesn't relent. Her hand disappears into Mark's jeans, and he lets out a strangled moan.
"Fuck," he hisses. Jaemin laughs at him again.
“You're being cruel," Mark manages, voice rough.
Jaemin clicks her tongue, unbothered. "Am I?" She glances back at Donghyeok again, eyes glittering. "What do you think? Should I stop?"
Donghyeok swallows hard, pulse racing. She looks at Mark, who’s biting on his lower lip, eyes hooded as he desperately grips the steering wheel, trying to stay focused on the (thankfully empty) road.
Donghyeok's mouth goes dry. She shifts in her seat, hyper-aware of every movement, every sound.
"I..." she starts, her voice coming out hoarse. She clears her throat and tries again. "I think you should keep going."
Jaemin's grin widens, something predatory flashing in her eyes. "Good answer," she says, turning her attention back to Mark.
Mark lets out a shaky breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Please. We're almost there," he grits out, begging, voice strained. "Just... just a few more minutes."
Jaemin hums, her hand moving slowly, deliberately. "Better drive fast then," she teases.
Mark whines, high and reedy, and his hips twitch again. Donghyeok watches him, mesmerized. The car swerves as Mark struggles to maintain control, his breath coming in short, sharp puffs. Jaemin's movements are relentless, her hand working steadily inside his jeans as she watches his reactions with predatory focus.
Donghyeok feels like she can't breathe properly either, the air in the car thick and heavy. Her skin prickles with heat, a dull ache building between her thighs as she watches them. She shifts in her seat, unable to tear her eyes away from the way Mark's jaw clenches, the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard.
"Jaemin," Mark grits out, voice strained. "Please, I can't—"
"Shh," Jaemin soothes, her free hand coming up to brush against his cheek. "You're doing so well for me, my perfect boy. Look at you. You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”
"I-I—" He shudders, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment before fluttering open again. He's flushed, his pupils blown wide. His breathing is shallow, his lips parted as he struggles to hold back his moans.
Jaemin smirks, her fingers still moving inside his jeans, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips. "Go on, let me hear you."
Mark shakes his head, stubborn, though the effect is ruined by the way he whimpers. His grip somehow tightens even more on the wheel, his knuckles pale against the leather.
The car lurches forward, tires squealing as he finally pulls into a parking space in front of his apartment building, the sudden motion sharp and jarring. The screech of rubber against asphalt is harsh in the quiet of the night, echoing in the enclosed space. He doesn’t slow down, the momentum carrying him into the spot with too much force, a hint of desperation in his movements. The engine hums softly as he finally shifts the car into park.
Donghyeok’s still sitting quietly in the backseat, trying to control the pounding of her heart as she watches, unsure how she fits in. Mark’s jaw clenches again, the tension in his body palpable as his hand hovers over the gear shift for a moment before releasing it entirely.
Jaemin, sitting beside him, lets out a soft, pleased hum, her eyes glinting with amusement and something darker, more possessive. She traces her fingers along Mark’s arm, a slow and deliberate touch that seems to ground him, even as his body still vibrates. “There we go,” she murmurs softly. “We’re here now, Mark. Take a deep breath.”
Mark exhales roughly, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he opens them again, his gaze locking with Jaemin’s. It’s a look of both desperate frustration and surrender.
Jaemin, satisfied with his response, pulls away, glancing briefly at Donghyeok in the backseat, though her eyes are more focused on Mark, waiting for him to gather himself. Her own breath is shaky, the lingering tension from the car ride still clinging to her skin.
“Let’s go,” Jaemin says, her tone casual but with an edge of command. Mark doesn’t argue, though his movements are slow as he opens the door, stepping out of the car and onto the pavement.
Donghyeok waits for a moment, her pulse still erratic as she watches them both. Mark walks around the car to Jaemin’s side to open the door, pulling it open with careful precision, the action unrushed and deliberate, as if he’s making sure everything is in place before she steps out. His eyes drink her in greedily, and Donghyeok can tell from the way his shoulders shift that he wants to reach out, touch her.
Instead, he just moves aside, holding the door open for her. Jaemin smiles, and it looks genuine, soft in a way Donghyeok doesn't often see from her. She steps out and Donghyeok watches, her chest tight, the air suddenly too heavy to breathe. She can't stop the flutter of anticipation in her stomach, the rush of heat between her legs.
Mark's eyes lock onto her, dark and hungry, and she knows she can't hide her reaction. She gets out of the car, shutting the door behind her. Jaemin turns, her eyes meeting Donghyeok's.
"You ready?" she asks, her voice soft.
Donghyeok hums, letting her gaze sweep over Jaemin, taking in her sharp features, the curve of her lips, the subtle hint of amusement in her eyes. Her eyes move to Mark, who's watching her closely, his expression tense with barely restrained need.
"Yeah," she says, the words raspy. "I'm ready."
The three of them make their way toward the apartment building. They don't speak, but they don't need to. Donghyeok's pulse pounds in her ears, a drumbeat that mirrors the pace of her steps.
She trails up the stairs behind Jaemin, watching the way her hips sway with every step. Mark's presence is a constant at her side, his warmth a steady reassurance.
When they reach the door to his apartment, Mark fumbles with the keys, his fingers shaking slightly. He manages to unlock it, pushing it open. Jaemin steps inside, and Donghyeok follows her.
"Welcome home," Mark murmurs, closing the door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world.
Jaemin smiles. "What now?" she asks.
Mark's eyes flicker to Donghyeok. "Anything you want," he breathes in response, his voice rough.
Donghyeok's heart hammers in her chest, the sound deafening. She's never wanted anything more than this. "Show me," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mark moves first, his hands finding her hips, pulling her close. Jaemin steps behind her, pressing her body flush against Donghyeok's. Her breath is hot on her neck, their touch hot through her clothes. Jaemin's hands slide up her sides, tracing the curves of her body, setting her nerves on fire.
"You're so beautiful," Mark murmurs, his voice breaking with desire.
"So perfect," Jaemin sighs, her lips brushing against the shell of Donghyeok's ear.
"You've been driving us crazy all night," Mark continues. His fingers find the lapels of her jacket, his touch warm even through the fabric. He moves slowly at first, like he’s savoring the moment, his fingertips tracing the edges before slipping beneath the material. With a deliberate tug, he eases it off her shoulders, the fabric sliding down her arms in a smooth, fluid motion.
"You have no idea how long we've wanted this," Jaemin whispers, her teeth grazing Donghyeok's earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.
Her exposed skin goosebumps, the chill in the apartment a stark contrast to the lingering heat from Mark’s hands. He doesn’t rush; his touch lingers at the crook of her elbows, guiding the jacket the rest of the way down until it pools at her wrists. For a moment, he just holds it there, like he’s waiting for her to stop him. But she doesn’t.
With one last, gentle pull, the jacket slips from her arms. Mark barely glances at it as he tosses it aside, his focus locked on her. His hands return to her waist almost instantly, as if the barrier of fabric had been an inconvenience. He presses himself against her, and she can feel the hardness of his arousal through the fabric of his pants.
Jaemin's fingers trace up Donghyeok's arms. "Bedroom," she tells them, her voice low.
They move as one, stumbling down the hallway, hands grasping and pulling. Mark fumbles with the doorknob, finally pushing it open.
Jaemin takes charge immediately. "Mark," she orders, "strip for us. Then lie back on the bed."
Mark obeys without hesitation, his fingers working quickly at the buttons of his shirt. His pants follow, and then his boxers, until he stands bare before them, flushed and breathing heavily.
Donghyeok has to hold in a whimper as she takes in the sight of Mark's naked form. His body is lean and toned, all smooth planes and subtle definition. Her eyes trail down his chest, following the line of hair that leads to his groin.
Mark's cock is standing proud and flushed against his stomach. It's bigger than she imagined, thick and already wet at the tip. She licks her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. Her gaze travels back up, taking in the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the slight tremor in his hands as he fights the urge to cover himself. There's a vulnerability in his eyes that makes her heart ache for a second.
This is Mark, her best friend, the boy she's loved for so long. Seeing him like this, knowing what's about to happen, makes it all feel startlingly real.
Mark shifts under her scrutiny, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. The blush spreads down his neck and across his chest, She's struck by how beautiful he is like this, exposed and wanting, laid bare for her to see.
Jaemin's hand on the small of her back grounds her.
"You're gorgeous," Donghyeok breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. The words slip out before she can stop them, raw and honest. Jaemin huffs out a laugh.
Mark's eyes widen slightly, his lips parting in surprise. Then he smiles, soft and genuine, and some of the tension leaves his body. "So are you," he murmurs back, eyes big and honest.
Jaemin hums appreciatively, her eyes raking over his form. "Good boy," she murmurs, and Donghyeok notes how his cock twitches at the praise. "Now, on the bed."
Mark complies, settling back against the pillows, his eyes dark with desire as he watches them.
Jaemin turns her attention to Donghyeok, a predatory gleam in her eye. "Your turn," she says, her fingers finding the hem of Donghyeok's tee.
Slowly, deliberately, Jaemin peels the fabric up and over Donghyeok's head, revealing smooth skin inch by tantalizing inch. Her bra follows, Jaemin's fingers deftly unhooking it and letting it fall to the floor.
"Beautiful," Jaemin breathes, her hands cupping Donghyeok's breasts, thumbs brushing over hardened nipples.
Donghyeok gasps, arching into the touch. Jaemin smirks, leaning in to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Her tongue traces the seam of her mouth. As they kiss, Jaemin's hands work at Donghyeok's shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping with practiced ease. She breaks the kiss to kneel, slowly dragging the denim down Donghyeok's legs.
"Step out," Jaemin instructs, and Donghyeok obeys, kicking the denim aside.
Jaemin's fingers hook into the waistband of Donghyeok's panties, dragging them down torturously slow. When they finally join the rest of her clothes on the floor, Donghyeok stands bare, her skin flushed and tingling under Jaemin's intense gaze.
"On the bed," Jaemin tells her. "Next to Mark. Mark, make sure you don’t touch, okay? You’re not gonna be using your hands on our Hyeokie today."
Mark keens in desperation, eyebrows pulling together as he looks at Jaemin with a pleading expression. She ignores him, though, turning to Donghyeok instead and patting the meat of her thigh encouragingly.
Donghyeok moves to the bed, her legs trembling slightly as she settles beside Mark. His eyes rake over her form, pupils wide with desire, but he doesn't reach out to touch her. Jaemin's earlier command still hangs in the air; he's not allowed to use his hands.
“Look at you,” Donghyeok says, voice shaky. “So well-behaved. You listen to Jaemin so well.”
Jaemin coos as she approaches the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She's still fully clothed, a stark contrast to their nakedness. “He’s always a good boy to me, aren’t you, baby?” She bats at his hard cock and watches with a sardonic grin as his fist flies to his mouth to muffle his cry.
“Yes,” he lets out, voice muffled by the skin of his hand. “‘M so good for you.”
"That's right. And you're going to be so good for Donghyeok too, aren't you?"
Mark nods eagerly, his eyes darting between Jaemin and Donghyeok.
Jaemin turns her attention to Donghyeok, her gaze raking over her naked form. "What should we do with you?" she muses, trailing a finger along her collarbone.
Donghyeok shivers at the touch, her skin prickling with goosebumps. "Anything," she says. "Everything."
Jaemin's smile widens. "Aw." She leans in, her lips brushing against Donghyeok's ear. "I want you to straddle Mark's face for a bit. Let him taste you."
Donghyeok's breath catches in her throat. She glances at Mark, who's watching them with wide, hungry eyes. Slowly, she moves to position herself over him, her thighs on either side of his head.
Mark lets out a low groan, his hot breath fanning across her sensitive skin. "Please," he whimpers, looking up at Jaemin for permission.
Jaemin nods. "Go ahead, baby. Show Donghyeok how good you are with that tongue of yours."
Mark doesn't need to be told twice. He surges upward, his tongue lapping eagerly at Donghyeok's folds. She pants, her hands flying to grip the headboard for support as pleasure courses through her body.
Jaemin watches, her eyes dark with desire. She begins to undress slowly, her gaze never leaving the scene before her. "That's it," she encourages. "Make her feel good, Mark."
Mark redoubles his efforts, his tongue circling Donghyeok's clit before dipping inside her. Donghyeok moans, her hips rocking against his face.
"Oh," she pants, her head falling back. "That feels so good. Your tongue is doing so well for me, Markie, wish I could have had you under me ages ago."
“His mouth is amazing, isn’t it?” Jaemin laughs, leaning around to pet Mark’s hair gently. Mark whines at the touch, his back arching. “What he doesn’t tell people is that he’s lucky if he gets pussy on his face, let alone around his cock. You let your Jaemin fuck you with her dick, don’t you, baby?”
Mark squirms in embarrassment, eyes scrunching closed as Donghyeok’s hips jerk against him with a gasp.
"Fuck," she breathes, her hips grinding down harder against Mark's face. "That's so hot."
Jaemin smirks. "He loves it," she purrs, leaning in, her lips brushing against Donghyeok's ear. "Don't you, baby? You love being my good little toy."
Mark moans against Donghyeok's pussy again. His tongue flicks rapidly against her clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.
"I think he's trying to say yes," Donghyeok pants, her fingers tangling in Mark's hair.
Jaemin giggles, her hands sliding up to cup Donghyeok's breasts. "He's very enthusiastic." She pinches Donghyeok's nipples, rolling them between her fingers.
“But I don’t think he deserves to have you come on his face yet.”
She grips Donghyeok’s hips and tugs her away from Mark, ignoring both of their complaints. “Stop that,” she reprimands. She repositions them so Donghyeok is lying next to Mark, legs open.
“Mark, there's a condom in the nightstand. Get it out and roll it on."
He groans but nods, shifting to reach the drawer. He manages to grab the foil packet, tearing it open carefully. With practiced ease, he unrolls the condom, his stomach flexing as he works.
Jaemin hums approvingly. "Good boy," she murmurs. "Now watch."
She turns her attention to Donghyeok, tugging her closer and settling between her legs. Her fingers trace feather-light patterns on Donghyeok's inner thighs, drawing a shaky gasp from her lips.
"So beautiful," Jaemin breathes, leaning down to press a kiss to Donghyeok's hip bone. "I'm going to take such good care of you, too."
Her fingers ghost over Donghyeok's center, barely there touches that make her squirm. Jaemin smirks, applying more pressure as she circles Donghyeok's clit with her thumb. Donghyeok moans, her hips bucking involuntarily. Beside her, Mark lets out a strangled groan, his hands fisting in the sheets as he watches.
Jaemin's touches grow more insistent, her fingers dipping lower to tease at Donghyeok's entrance. She's already so wet, slick mixed with Mark’s saliva coating Jaemin's fingers as she slowly pushes one inside.
"Oh god," Donghyeok whines, her back arching off the bed.
Jaemin works her finger in and out slowly, building a steady rhythm. She adds a second finger, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes Donghyeok see stars.
"That's it," Jaemin coos, her free hand coming up to roll one of Donghyeok's nipples between her fingers. "You're doing so well for me."
Donghyeok writhes under her touch, pleasure building low in her belly. Jaemin's thumb returns to her clit, circling in time with the thrust of her fingers. Mark watches intently, his breath coming in short pants. His hips twitch occasionally, seeking friction that isn't there.
"Please," Donghyeok whimpers, not sure what she’s begging for but desperate anyways.
Jaemin's fingers move with practiced precision, curling and stroking inside Donghyeok as she works her closer to the edge. Her thumb circles Donghyeok's clit in tight, deliberate motions, drawing breathy moans from her parted lips.
"That's it," Jaemin murmurs, her voice low. "Let us hear you, baby. Show Mark how good you feel."
Donghyeok's back arches off the bed, her hips rolling to meet each thrust of Jaemin's fingers. Pleasure builds low in her belly, coiling tighter with each passing second. She turns her head, catching Mark's heated gaze. His pupils are still blown wide, chest heaving as he watches them intently.
Jaemin adds a third finger, stretching Donghyeok further. The slight sting only heightens her arousal, drawing a keening whine from her throat. Jaemin's fingers curl, hitting a spot deep inside that makes Donghyeok see stars.
"Ah," Donghyeok gasps, her fingers twisting in the sheets. "Jaemin, please—"
"Shh," Jaemin soothes, leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses along Donghyeok's inner thigh.
“I’m gonna come,” she wheezes, fingers curling into fists.
"Not yet," Jaemin warns, pulling back slightly. Her fingers slow, drawing out each thrust until Donghyeok is squirming beneath her. "We want you nice and ready to ride Mark, don't we? He deserves a little treat from you, right?”
Donghyeok nods frantically, beyond words at this point. Her skin is flushed and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, her chest heaving with each ragged breath.
Jaemin smirks, clearly pleased. She leans down, capturing one of Donghyeok's nipples between her lips. Her tongue laps around the hardened bud as her fingers pick up their pace once more.
"Fuck," Mark groans beside them, his hips twitching involuntarily. "Jaemin, I need—”
"Patience," Jaemin chides, releasing Donghyeok's nipple with a string of saliva still connecting her mouth to her breast. "You'll get your turn soon enough."
She slowly withdraws her fingers this time, drawing a whimper from Donghyeok at the loss. She presses a soft kiss to Donghyeok's thigh in apology before sitting back on her heels.
"I want you to ride Mark now. Show him how good you can be for us."
Donghyeok nods, her limbs feeling heavy and languid as she shifts on the bed. Mark watches her with hooded eyes. She moves to straddle his hips, feeling the heat of his skin against her thighs.
Jaemin's hand comes to rest on the small of Donghyeok's back, steadying her. "Take your time," she murmurs.
Donghyeok reaches between them, wrapping her fingers around Mark's length. He hisses at the contact, his hips jerking against his will. She lines him up with her entrance, sinking down slowly.
A low moan escapes her lips as she takes him in inch by inch. The stretch is delicious, her body still sensitive from Jaemin's fingers. When she's fully seated, she pauses, adjusting to the feeling of fullness.
"God," Mark groans, his hands fisting in the sheets. "You feel amazing.”
“You feel so good inside me,” Donghyeok breathes in response, rolling her hips testingly.
Mark's grip tightens, his knuckles turning white. He lets out a shuddering breath, his hips jerking with the effort to stay still. Donghyeok lifts herself up until just the tip remains, then drops back down.
Jaemin hums approvingly, her hand trailing up Donghyeok's spine. "Good," she praises, voice sing-songy. She shifts forward with her knees, watching them from the side.
Donghyeok begins to move, setting a slow, steady rhythm. Mark meets her movements, thrusting up into her with careful precision. Jaemin watches intently, her eyes roving over their joined bodies. Her hand drifts down to the hem of her dress, slowly inching it up her thighs. "You two look so beautiful together," she murmurs.
Donghyeok's pace quickens, her movements growing more desperate as pleasure builds within her. She’s about to come embarrassingly fast, but she doesn’t care. Mark's eyes are locked on her face, drinking in every expression that flits across her features.
Jaemin's dress is bunched around her waist now, revealing the lace of her panties. She slips her hand beneath the delicate fabric, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her fingers find her clit.
Donghyeok leans forward, bracing her hands on Mark's chest as she rides him harder. Her movements grow more frantic as she chases her release. The new angle allows Mark to hit deep inside her with each thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through her entire body. Her fingers dig into his chest, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin as she rides him harder.
"Fuck," she gasps, her head falling back. “Mark, you feel so fucking good inside me. I wanna—I'm gonna come all over your cock.”
Jaemin watches intently, her own fingers still working beneath her panties. "Touch yourself," she commands, “but don’t come. Don’t do that until I say you can.”
Donghyeok obeys without hesitation, her hand slipping down to find her clit. She rubs tight, desperate circles, her hips stuttering. She clenches and Mark groans beneath her, his hips snapping up to meet her movements. His hands twitch at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to grab her hips and guide her motions.
"Mark," Jaemin warns, her eyes flashing. "No hands. You're not allowed to come yet, either. Hold back."
Mark whimpers, his jaw clenching as he struggles to obey. Sweat beads on his forehead, his muscles taut with the effort of restraint. Jaemin smiles and pets Mark’s twitching stomach, clearly pleased with his obedience. She moves on the bed, swinging a leg over his chest and turning to straddle his face. Her dress rides up further, revealing the curve of her ass and the damp lace of her panties.
"Don't move," she instructs Mark, her tone brooking no argument. She leans forward, bringing her face level with where Donghyeok and Mark are joined.
The new position puts Jaemin's core directly above Mark's mouth. Jaemin's focus, however, is entirely on Donghyeok. She watches intently as Donghyeok's fingers work her clit, as Mark's length disappears inside her with each thrust.
"You're so beautiful like this," Jaemin murmurs, her breath ghosting over Donghyeok's skin. "So close to falling apart for us."
Jaemin leans in closer, her breath hot against Donghyeok's sensitive flesh. With deliberate slowness, she extends her tongue, the tip just barely grazing Donghyeok's swollen clit. The sudden, wet heat makes Donghyeok cry out, her hips jerking involuntarily.
"Oh god," Donghyeok wails, fingers flying off her clit and instead tangling in Jaemin's hair.
She flattens her tongue, dragging it along Donghyeok's folds. Mark groans beneath them and his hips stutter, struggling to maintain their rhythm as Jaemin tongues at where he and Donghyeok are joined.
Jaemin trails back up and her lips close around Donghyeok's clit, sucking gently as her tongue flicks back and forth. It’s almost too much to bear. Her thighs tremble, her movements growing erratic as she chases her orgasm.
"That's it," Jaemin murmurs, pulling back slightly, her words still muffled against Donghyeok. "You taste so good, baby. No wonder Mark didn’t wanna stop eating you out."
Her tongue traces lazily around Donghyeok's entrance, teasing the stretched skin where Mark's length disappears inside her. It draws a keening whine from Donghyeok's throat, her back arching as pleasure coils tighter in her core.
Mark's breathing grows ragged, his control clearly slipping. Jaemin shifts, grinding down against his face as a reminder of her earlier command. He groans, the sound vibrating through all three of them.
"Please," Donghyeok whimpers, her hips jerking erratically. "I need to come. Please let me come."
Jaemin pulls back slightly, her breath hot against Donghyeok's overheated skin. "Not yet," she murmurs. "I want to hear you beg for it more. Tell us how badly you want it."
Donghyeok groans, frustration and desperation coloring her voice. "I want it so bad," she pants. "Please, Jaemin. I've been good, haven't I? I've done everything you asked."
Mark's hips stutter beneath her, clearly affected by her words. His breathing is ragged, chest heaving with the effort of holding back.
"You have been so good," Jaemin agrees, her tongue flicking out to tease Donghyeok's clit. "But I think you can do better. Tell Mark how good he feels inside you. Let him know exactly what he's doing to you."
Donghyeok's head falls back, a breathy moan escaping her lips. "God, Mark," she moans. "You feel so fucking good. Your cock fills me up so perfectly. I've wanted this for so long."
Mark groans, the sound muffled by Jaemin's thighs. His hips snap up sharply, driving deeper into Donghyeok.
"That's it," Jaemin encourages. "Keep going. Tell him more."
"I love the way you stretch me," Donghyeok continues, her voice shaky. "The way you hit all the right spots inside me. I want to come all over your cock, Mark. I want you to feel how wet you make me."
Jaemin hums approvingly, her tongue working more insistently against Donghyeok's clit. "Good girl," she praises. "You're doing so well for us. Mark, how does she feel? Tell her."
Mark's hips jerk, a strangled groan escaping him. "So tight," he manages, his voice strained. "So wet and hot around me. You feel amazing, Donghyeok. I can't—I'm so close."
"Not yet, Mark," Jaemin warns. "Hold on just a little longer. I want her to come on your cock first."
Donghyeok whimpers, her movements growing frantic. "Please," she whines.
“Okay,” Jaemin laughs, hands reaching out to grip her thighs tightly.
She redoubles her efforts, her tongue moving with practiced precision as she brings Donghyeok closer and closer to the edge. One of her hands moves to grip Donghyeok's hip, steadying her as she writhes above them.
Donghyeok feels her orgasm building, a white-hot pressure coiling tighter and tighter in her core. She's teetering on the edge, so close to falling apart completely.
Jaemin's tongue flattens against Donghyeok's clit again, the wet heat drawing a desperate moan from her throat. Her hips stutter, caught between grinding down on Mark's length and pressing up into Jaemin's mouth.
Donghyeok can't see Mark's face clearly from her position, but she can hear his muffled groans. The wet sounds of his mouth working between Jaemin's thighs fill the air while Jaemin laps at her pussy.
"I’m—" Donghyeok whimpers, her fingers tangling in Jaemin's hair. "Jaemin-ah, I'm so close—"
Jaemin moans against her, the sound muffled but unmistakable. Her hips grind down against Mark's face, chasing her own pleasure even as she works Donghyeok with her tongue.
With a final, desperate cry, Donghyeok tumbles over the edge. Her orgasm crashes over her in waves, her body trembling as pleasure courses through every nerve ending. Jaemin works her through it, her tongue gentling as Donghyeok's hips jerk with aftershocks.
Her vision blurs, her body trembling as aftershocks ripple through her. With shaky arms, she lifts her hips, her thighs quivering with the effort. Mark slips out of her, his cock glistening with her slick. His hips thrust upward instinctively, seeking the warmth he's just lost, his length sliding through empty air for a desperate moment.
A strangled gasp escapes his lips, muffled against Jaemin's core. His fingers dig into the sheets, knuckles white with the strain of holding back. Donghyeok watches, still dazed from her own orgasm, as Mark writhes beneath them. His abs flex with each aborted thrust, sweat glistening on his flushed skin. A pang of sympathy washes over her, seeing his desperation.
Without thinking, she shifts forward, lowering herself just enough that the tip of Mark's cock brushes against her folds. He cries out at the contact, his hips spasming up.
Donghyeok whimpers at the sensation, oversensitive nerves lighting up at even this gentle touch. She doesn't take him inside again, instead letting him slide between her slick folds. The underside of his cock drags against her clit with each movement, sending little jolts of pleasure-pain through her overstimulated body.
She whimpers, little ah-ahs escaping her mouth as her breath catches in her throat. It's almost too much, bordering on painful, but she can't bring herself to pull away, obsessed with Mark’s desperation.
Mark's hips snap up faster now, finding a frantic rhythm as he chases his release. His cock slides easily through her wetness, the head catching on her clit with each pass. Donghyeok lets out soft, breathy moans, her body trembling with the overstimulation.
Jaemin watches them with hooded eyes, her own hips still grinding against Mark's face. "That's it," she purrs, her voice raspy with arousal. "Let him feel how wet you are, how good he made you feel."
Mark's movements grow more erratic, his hips jerking upward with increasing desperation. Jaemin shifts her position, sliding down Mark's body until her face hovers just above where Mark and Donghyeok are joined. Her breath ghosts over their heated skin. With deliberate slowness, she lowers her head, her lips parting as she takes the tip of Mark's cock into her mouth.
Mark lets out a strangled groan, his hips jerking upward at the sudden wet heat around him. Jaemin's tongue swirls around the head. Her lips slide against him as he continues to thrust between Donghyeok's folds.
Donghyeok moans at the sight, her own arousal building again despite her oversensitivity. Jaemin's eyes flick up to meet hers and she smiles, tongue darting out and catching Donghyeok's clit in a quick, teasing lick.
She trembles, caught between the desire to pull away and the need to press closer.
Jaemin establishes a rhythm, her mouth enveloping the head of Mark's cock as he thrusts forward, her tongue flicking out to tease Donghyeok's clit on each backstroke.
Mark's movements grow more frantic, his hips snapping up with increasing desperation. Jaemin takes him deeper on each pass, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks.
Donghyeok watches, mesmerized, as Jaemin works them both closer to the edge. Her own hips begin to move of their own accord, grinding down to meet Mark's thrusts and Jaemin's clever tongue. The coil of pleasure in her core winds tighter, building towards another orgasm she hadn't thought possible so soon.
Jaemin's free hand comes up to grip Donghyeok's hip again, steadying her as she writhes above them. Her fingers dig bruisingly into the soft flesh and pressing against her bone, definitely leaving marks that will linger for days.
“You can come now, baby,” Jaemin murmurs.
Mark's movements suddenly still, his entire body going rigid beneath them. His hips jerk in small, staccato motions, barely perceptible. A low, guttural groan escapes his throat as he finally comes, his cock pulsing between them.
Donghyeok can feel each twitch, each spurt as Mark empties himself into the condom. It’s warm, even through the thin latex. His hips continue to make those tiny, involuntary movements, aftershocks of pleasure rippling through his body.
Jaemin pulls back slightly, her lips releasing Mark's length with a soft, wet sound. Her tongue darts out, catching the leaking slick from Donghyeok’s hole. She watches intently as Mark's cock continues to pulse, her eyes satisfied.
Mark's breath comes in ragged gasps, his chest heaving beneath Jaemin. His muscles tremble with the intensity of his orgasm, little shivers running through his body. Sweat glistens on his skin, catching the dim light of the room and making him look almost ethereal.
Donghyeok can't tear her eyes away from the sight. She watches, mesmerized, as Mark's cock twitches one final time before going still.
Jaemin's hand comes to rest on Donghyeok's thigh, her touch grounding and electric all at once. "Beautiful," she murmurs. Her eyes flick between Mark and Donghyeok, drinking in the sight of them both.
Mark's hips give one last, weak jerk before he finally stills completely. His eyes flutter open, dazed and unfocused. Donghyeok shifts away, collapsing to the side, her legs tangled with Mark’s. Jaemin picks herself up carefully, bringing her leg over Mark’s face and trying to make sure she doesn’t accidentally knee his nose.
The room is quiet now, filled only with the sound of their heavy breathing and the faint rustle of sheets as they shift.
Jaemin leans down, pressing a soft, tender kiss to Mark's lips. He responds lazily, still caught in the afterglow of his orgasm. She gets to cleaning when Mark doesn’t make any move to get up, muttering under her breath about how “this should be a man’s job,” but Mark ignores her and rolls over once he takes off his condom and wipes away his mess with one of the towels Jaemin’s brought.
She approaches Donghyeok with almost-gentle hands, pinching at her sides softly and getting her to move as she passes the warm and wet towel over her body. She hisses when the cloth passes over her sensitive clit and Jaemin presses her lips to the side of her head apologetically.
After she’s cleaned everyone up and shimmied out of her dress and damp panties, she bends over to put on a new set of underwear and joins them on the bed.
Donghyeok watches as Jaemin curls up by Mark silently, her chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. There’s something hypnotic about the way Jaemin moves—unhurried, deliberate—as if she has all the time in the world. Mark, usually so put together, so careful, looks utterly undone beneath her touch, his lashes fluttering against his cheek as he fights to keep his eyes open.
Donghyeok swallows, pressing her palm against the mattress to steady herself. The warmth of Mark’s leg against hers is grounding, but she still feels weightless, like she’s floating somewhere between exhaustion and something dangerously close to longing.
Jaemin pulls away slightly, her fingers brushing along Mark’s jaw, tracing the curve of his lips like she’s committing them to memory. Then, as if sensing Donghyeok’s gaze, she shifts her attention, turning to meet her eyes.
“You’re quiet,” Jaemin murmurs, tilting her head.
Donghyeok huffs out a soft laugh, though it lacks its usual sharpness. “Should I be providing commentary?”
Jaemin grins, slow and knowing. “You usually do.”
Mark hums, eyes still half-lidded. “She’s tired,” he murmurs, voice thick with exhaustion. His hand finds Donghyeok’s, fingers curling around hers in a lazy, comforting hold. “Aren’t you?”
Donghyeok doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she watches the way their hands fit together, how easy it is, how natural it feels.
“Yeah,” she finally says, her voice softer now. “I guess I am.”
Jaemin hums, shifting closer, draping an arm over both of them as she presses her face into the crook of Mark’s neck. “Then sleep,” she murmurs, voice already slipping into something hazy.
Donghyeok watches them, feeling something unfamiliar tighten in her chest. It’s not quite jealousy, not quite longing—just a quiet, creeping thought that maybe she’s an observer rather than a part of this. Mark and Jaemin fit together so seamlessly, like two pieces of the same whole, and for a second—a brief, fleeting second—she wonders if she truly belongs here, if she’s just a guest in something far greater than herself.
But then Jaemin cracks one eye open, gaze locking onto hers as if she can hear every insecure thought racing through her mind. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t smirk or tease like she normally would. Instead, she just looks at Donghyeok—really looks at her—and it’s so unbearably soft, so warm, that Donghyeok can’t help it.
She laughs. Loud and sudden, breaking through the stillness of the room.
It startles Mark, who blinks up at her in confusion, and Jaemin, who quirks an amused brow but doesn’t let go of her gaze. The ridiculousness of it all, of her own doubts, of thinking—even for a second—that she wasn’t meant to be here, sends her tumbling forward without a second thought. She wedges herself between them, fitting herself into the space like she’s always been there, like she was never meant to be anywhere else.
Jaemin huffs a laugh against her temple, slipping an arm around her waist. “Took you long enough,” she murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.
Mark makes a small, content noise as Donghyeok curls into him, his chin resting against the top of her head. “Mmm,” he hums, already half-gone, “finally.”