Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2025-01-24 10:41 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2025-01-24 10:41 pm
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Fanfiction: A Duty to Ourselves (Severance, Mark S/Helly R/Dylan G)
My quest to write Macrodata Refinement OT4 fanfiction continues! I almost managed it this time. One day!
(How many fics can one person write about a flustered Mark S ending up in inappropriate situations with his colleagues? It'll never be enough, frankly.)
This is set in the first season of Severance and contains no spoilers for the second! If you'd like to leave a comment (thank you so much!), I'd really appreciate it if you avoided mentioning any details from the latest episode, s2e2; I haven't had a chance to watch it yet.
Title: A Duty to Ourselves
Fandom: Severance
Rating: 15
Pairing: Mark S/Helly R/Dylan G, with slight Mark/Helly/Dylan/Irving elements
Wordcount: 1,500
Summary: “Good to know,” Helly says. “I’d better get started on banging everyone in Macrodata Refinement.”
Mark is assigned to talk Helly through the basic points of the handbook, as she doesn’t seem in any hurry to read it herself. She laughs when he mentions that romance is forbidden.
“A forbidden workplace romance?” she asks. “Kind of sexy, don’t you think?”
Mark frowns. “It’s not sexy; it’s a duty we have to ourselves. You might already be in a relationship on the outside; there’s no way for us to know. If you have a relationship at work, it could be a betrayal of—”
He falters. The look in Helly’s eye has changed to something intent, and he’s suddenly reminded that she’s very willing to harm her other self.
“Good to know,” she says. “I’d better get started on banging everyone in Macrodata Refinement.”
Mark swallows. “You really shouldn’t.”
They look at each other for an uncomfortably long moment.
“A-anyway,” Mark says, knocking over his pencil pot as he reaches to turn the page, “I guess we should go over the handwashing policy.”
-
If an employee has been in the bathroom for more than nine minutes – one minute for each of Lumon’s core principles – it’s the department chief’s responsibility to go and check on them. Helly’s definitely exceeded the limit by this point, and Dylan is creeping up on it, so Mark opens the bathroom door.
“Hey, guys,” he says, and then, “Oh, my God.”
Helly grins breathlessly at him. “Hey, boss.”
“Oh, my God,” Mark says again.
“Oh, man,” Dylan says, emerging from under her skirt, “is it nine minutes already?”
“For Helly,” Mark says. He feels kind of detached from his body right now. He can hear both of them breathing, a little faster than usual, a little louder; he’s very conscious of that. “I – I think you still have a couple of minutes left.”
“Okay,” Dylan says. “Uh, I kind of need Helly here to finish this, so... any chance you could look the other way?”
Mark really wishes he could look the other way. His eyes are fixed on Helly: her unbuttoned blouse, her skirt mostly pushed up around her hips, her slight smirk. She’s sitting on the sink shelf, her legs dangling in the air in a way that deeply unsettles him.
“I don’t think that ledge was really designed to support a person,” Mark says, distantly.
Helly snorts. “Wouldn’t want to damage Lumon property.”
“I’m more worried that you might get hurt.”
She looks him straight in the eye. There’s more intensity behind it than he can really handle. “Wouldn’t want to damage Lumon property.”
“I’ll just—” What is he still doing here? “I’m going to get back to work. I’d really recommend that you guys do the same when, uh, when you’re done.”
“Might finish faster if we have more hands on this project,” Helly says.
Holy shit. If Mark had ever slept, he’d think he had to be dreaming. “What?”
“I’m asking you to join in,” Helly says. “Everyone here obsesses over quota the whole time, right? I’m just trying to hit my banging-the-whole-team quota in the most efficient way possible.”
“I mean,” Dylan says, “I’m fine with it, but for the record I kind of think you could’ve asked me before trying to bring the boss into this.”
What is happening right now?
“I don’t think you’ll win Irving over,” Mark says. “Wouldn’t want you to waste your time having sex with me if you’re just going to end up running into that roadblock.”
He tries really hard not to stumble over the words having sex with me. He almost manages it. But his voice kind of wavers, halfway through, in a way he’s agonisingly conscious of.
“If it helps,” Helly says, casually crossing her legs at the ankle, “I don’t think I’d consider it a waste of time.”
Somehow, every new thing she says seems to hit Mark harder than the last. Surely they have to reach some sort of ceiling at some point?
“It’s a pretty good offer, dude,” Dylan says. “You’ve got to try this.”
“I – I feel like that’s a weird way to put it,” Mark says.
“I know company man Mark is scandalised by the prospect of group sex,” Helly says, “but, come on, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Nah, this isn’t his first time,” Dylan says.
Helly’s eyebrows shoot up. “You have to tell me more.”
“We don’t have to,” Mark protests.
“Is this something you did before I came here?” Helly asks. “You two and Irving and, uh, that Petey guy?”
It puts images in Mark’s head that he’s not totally sure how to deal with. “Uh, no. No, we never – not the team. No.”
“But you have had group sex before?” Helly asks, the incredulity plain in her voice.
“I mean, not really,” Mark says. “I just happened to be in a group, uh, activity that... I guess you could say it had sexual elements?”
“Sexual in what sense?” Helly asks.
“Sexual in the sense that...” Now that he thinks about it, he guesses there’s no other way to say it. “Sexual in the sense that we were, uh, having sex.”
Helly bursts out laughing.
“But – but that’s not it was about,” Mark protests. “It’s, uh, it’s a ritual, it’s meant to honour the company’s roots. That’s just... part of it.”
“Wait,” Helly says, reining in her laughter with some apparent effort. “You’re saying this was an official Lumon thing?”
“It’s the waffle party, dude,” Dylan says. “You eat the waffles, you get laid, it’s awesome.”
“Holy shit, that is not what I thought the waffle party would be.” Helly falls silent for a moment. “So – wait. Mark. You were lecturing me about how we have a duty to ourselves not to have office relationships, right? And meanwhile you’re off at these sexy waffle parties, fucking fifty people—”
“Four,” Mark puts in, quietly.
“Fifty-four people?”
“Four people,” Mark says, feeling himself flush.
“Okay,” Helly says. “And your outie’s fine with that?”
“I mean—” He’s never really thought about it, the ethical distinction between waffle parties and workplace fraternisation. “I mean, my outie had to give permission for me to stay late if I get that perk. So I... guess he’s okay with it?”
“Great,” Helly says. “I guess we can conclude your outie’s probably fine with you pounding me into the bathroom wall, then.”
It feels like that’s probably not how it works. But it’s hard to articulate exactly why not in his head. It’s kind of hard to think clearly in general when Helly’s right there, looking expectantly at him, a strange blend of dishevelled and composed.
Mark clears his throat. “We still have to work together. I think it’d be best not to do anything that might make our working relationship, uh, awkward.”
“Dude,” Dylan says, “you just walked in on me eating her out. I think joining in might actually make that less awkward.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Mark asks.
“I mean,” Dylan says, “I’ve built up all these incredible sex skills from all my waffle parties, right? Might as well use them to make people I actually give a shit about feel good.”
Mark finds himself strangely touched, in a way he wasn’t expecting. Dylan’s a guy who tends not to show much sincerity; it can be hard to gauge how he feels about people. But apparently he gives a shit about Mark.
Helly runs a hand slowly over her own thigh, her eyes on Mark. “Don’t you ever want to do something that’s not numbers?”
“You see,” Mark says, “if you’d taken the time to read the handbook, you’d know that this is what’s called workplace harassment.”
Helly snorts with laughter. “I guess so. You’re saying you don’t want to?”
If he didn’t want to, he’d have left by now. He feels sick with how much he wants to.
Mark swallows. “I’m just saying it’s a bad idea.”
“Noted,” Helly says. “Get the fuck over here.”
-
“Where on Earth were you?” Irving asks, when the three of them eventually return to their desks. “I was about to call for a supervisor.”
Mark exchanges glances with Helly and Dylan.
There’s a warmth to it, to that silent communication, after what they’ve just shared. It didn’t really feel like the waffle parties: not with people he gives a shit about, as Dylan so astutely put it.
A part of Mark kind of wishes Irving had been involved as well. It’s hard to picture him agreeing to it. But it doesn’t feel right, somehow, for a member of the team to be left out.
“Helly,” Mark says. Her name feels different in his mouth, now. “Are you still planning to involve Irving in your side project?”
Helly laughs. “I mean, if he’ll go for it, sure.”
“What’s the project?” Irving asks. “I’m happy to help, if I can.”
“We might need some time to iron out the details,” Mark says. “Just... if he does end up helping out, I’d like to be a part of it as well.”
Dylan raises a hand. “And me.”
“You know,” Helly says, her smile broadening, “there are times when I barely hate this office at all.”
(How many fics can one person write about a flustered Mark S ending up in inappropriate situations with his colleagues? It'll never be enough, frankly.)
This is set in the first season of Severance and contains no spoilers for the second! If you'd like to leave a comment (thank you so much!), I'd really appreciate it if you avoided mentioning any details from the latest episode, s2e2; I haven't had a chance to watch it yet.
Title: A Duty to Ourselves
Fandom: Severance
Rating: 15
Pairing: Mark S/Helly R/Dylan G, with slight Mark/Helly/Dylan/Irving elements
Wordcount: 1,500
Summary: “Good to know,” Helly says. “I’d better get started on banging everyone in Macrodata Refinement.”
Mark is assigned to talk Helly through the basic points of the handbook, as she doesn’t seem in any hurry to read it herself. She laughs when he mentions that romance is forbidden.
“A forbidden workplace romance?” she asks. “Kind of sexy, don’t you think?”
Mark frowns. “It’s not sexy; it’s a duty we have to ourselves. You might already be in a relationship on the outside; there’s no way for us to know. If you have a relationship at work, it could be a betrayal of—”
He falters. The look in Helly’s eye has changed to something intent, and he’s suddenly reminded that she’s very willing to harm her other self.
“Good to know,” she says. “I’d better get started on banging everyone in Macrodata Refinement.”
Mark swallows. “You really shouldn’t.”
They look at each other for an uncomfortably long moment.
“A-anyway,” Mark says, knocking over his pencil pot as he reaches to turn the page, “I guess we should go over the handwashing policy.”
If an employee has been in the bathroom for more than nine minutes – one minute for each of Lumon’s core principles – it’s the department chief’s responsibility to go and check on them. Helly’s definitely exceeded the limit by this point, and Dylan is creeping up on it, so Mark opens the bathroom door.
“Hey, guys,” he says, and then, “Oh, my God.”
Helly grins breathlessly at him. “Hey, boss.”
“Oh, my God,” Mark says again.
“Oh, man,” Dylan says, emerging from under her skirt, “is it nine minutes already?”
“For Helly,” Mark says. He feels kind of detached from his body right now. He can hear both of them breathing, a little faster than usual, a little louder; he’s very conscious of that. “I – I think you still have a couple of minutes left.”
“Okay,” Dylan says. “Uh, I kind of need Helly here to finish this, so... any chance you could look the other way?”
Mark really wishes he could look the other way. His eyes are fixed on Helly: her unbuttoned blouse, her skirt mostly pushed up around her hips, her slight smirk. She’s sitting on the sink shelf, her legs dangling in the air in a way that deeply unsettles him.
“I don’t think that ledge was really designed to support a person,” Mark says, distantly.
Helly snorts. “Wouldn’t want to damage Lumon property.”
“I’m more worried that you might get hurt.”
She looks him straight in the eye. There’s more intensity behind it than he can really handle. “Wouldn’t want to damage Lumon property.”
“I’ll just—” What is he still doing here? “I’m going to get back to work. I’d really recommend that you guys do the same when, uh, when you’re done.”
“Might finish faster if we have more hands on this project,” Helly says.
Holy shit. If Mark had ever slept, he’d think he had to be dreaming. “What?”
“I’m asking you to join in,” Helly says. “Everyone here obsesses over quota the whole time, right? I’m just trying to hit my banging-the-whole-team quota in the most efficient way possible.”
“I mean,” Dylan says, “I’m fine with it, but for the record I kind of think you could’ve asked me before trying to bring the boss into this.”
What is happening right now?
“I don’t think you’ll win Irving over,” Mark says. “Wouldn’t want you to waste your time having sex with me if you’re just going to end up running into that roadblock.”
He tries really hard not to stumble over the words having sex with me. He almost manages it. But his voice kind of wavers, halfway through, in a way he’s agonisingly conscious of.
“If it helps,” Helly says, casually crossing her legs at the ankle, “I don’t think I’d consider it a waste of time.”
Somehow, every new thing she says seems to hit Mark harder than the last. Surely they have to reach some sort of ceiling at some point?
“It’s a pretty good offer, dude,” Dylan says. “You’ve got to try this.”
“I – I feel like that’s a weird way to put it,” Mark says.
“I know company man Mark is scandalised by the prospect of group sex,” Helly says, “but, come on, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Nah, this isn’t his first time,” Dylan says.
Helly’s eyebrows shoot up. “You have to tell me more.”
“We don’t have to,” Mark protests.
“Is this something you did before I came here?” Helly asks. “You two and Irving and, uh, that Petey guy?”
It puts images in Mark’s head that he’s not totally sure how to deal with. “Uh, no. No, we never – not the team. No.”
“But you have had group sex before?” Helly asks, the incredulity plain in her voice.
“I mean, not really,” Mark says. “I just happened to be in a group, uh, activity that... I guess you could say it had sexual elements?”
“Sexual in what sense?” Helly asks.
“Sexual in the sense that...” Now that he thinks about it, he guesses there’s no other way to say it. “Sexual in the sense that we were, uh, having sex.”
Helly bursts out laughing.
“But – but that’s not it was about,” Mark protests. “It’s, uh, it’s a ritual, it’s meant to honour the company’s roots. That’s just... part of it.”
“Wait,” Helly says, reining in her laughter with some apparent effort. “You’re saying this was an official Lumon thing?”
“It’s the waffle party, dude,” Dylan says. “You eat the waffles, you get laid, it’s awesome.”
“Holy shit, that is not what I thought the waffle party would be.” Helly falls silent for a moment. “So – wait. Mark. You were lecturing me about how we have a duty to ourselves not to have office relationships, right? And meanwhile you’re off at these sexy waffle parties, fucking fifty people—”
“Four,” Mark puts in, quietly.
“Fifty-four people?”
“Four people,” Mark says, feeling himself flush.
“Okay,” Helly says. “And your outie’s fine with that?”
“I mean—” He’s never really thought about it, the ethical distinction between waffle parties and workplace fraternisation. “I mean, my outie had to give permission for me to stay late if I get that perk. So I... guess he’s okay with it?”
“Great,” Helly says. “I guess we can conclude your outie’s probably fine with you pounding me into the bathroom wall, then.”
It feels like that’s probably not how it works. But it’s hard to articulate exactly why not in his head. It’s kind of hard to think clearly in general when Helly’s right there, looking expectantly at him, a strange blend of dishevelled and composed.
Mark clears his throat. “We still have to work together. I think it’d be best not to do anything that might make our working relationship, uh, awkward.”
“Dude,” Dylan says, “you just walked in on me eating her out. I think joining in might actually make that less awkward.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Mark asks.
“I mean,” Dylan says, “I’ve built up all these incredible sex skills from all my waffle parties, right? Might as well use them to make people I actually give a shit about feel good.”
Mark finds himself strangely touched, in a way he wasn’t expecting. Dylan’s a guy who tends not to show much sincerity; it can be hard to gauge how he feels about people. But apparently he gives a shit about Mark.
Helly runs a hand slowly over her own thigh, her eyes on Mark. “Don’t you ever want to do something that’s not numbers?”
“You see,” Mark says, “if you’d taken the time to read the handbook, you’d know that this is what’s called workplace harassment.”
Helly snorts with laughter. “I guess so. You’re saying you don’t want to?”
If he didn’t want to, he’d have left by now. He feels sick with how much he wants to.
Mark swallows. “I’m just saying it’s a bad idea.”
“Noted,” Helly says. “Get the fuck over here.”
“Where on Earth were you?” Irving asks, when the three of them eventually return to their desks. “I was about to call for a supervisor.”
Mark exchanges glances with Helly and Dylan.
There’s a warmth to it, to that silent communication, after what they’ve just shared. It didn’t really feel like the waffle parties: not with people he gives a shit about, as Dylan so astutely put it.
A part of Mark kind of wishes Irving had been involved as well. It’s hard to picture him agreeing to it. But it doesn’t feel right, somehow, for a member of the team to be left out.
“Helly,” Mark says. Her name feels different in his mouth, now. “Are you still planning to involve Irving in your side project?”
Helly laughs. “I mean, if he’ll go for it, sure.”
“What’s the project?” Irving asks. “I’m happy to help, if I can.”
“We might need some time to iron out the details,” Mark says. “Just... if he does end up helping out, I’d like to be a part of it as well.”
Dylan raises a hand. “And me.”
“You know,” Helly says, her smile broadening, “there are times when I barely hate this office at all.”