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sixzeroes · 2 years

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mark me in your heart.

summary | one deep, dark secret of yours? that undying desire you have to fuck mark lee. one difficult issue to work around? mark lee is the head pastor’s son. (he’s also got a lot of enemies, but you don’t know that. yet.)

characters | spider-man!mark x reader(f).

genres | fluff, smut, a smidge of angst, romance, slice of life, acquaintances-to-friends-to-lovers, university au, spider-mark au, avengers au.

warnings | references to avengers & spider-man movies (mark is basically peter), spoilers for no way home, spoilers for endgame, profanity, car sex, cockwarming, sex-based fantasies about mark, mentions of death, mark is indecisive, y/n kinda keeps forgetting boundaries, reader and mark are christian, shitty plot, not proofread lol.

word count | 9.9k.

37.5MHz | 34+35 by ariana grande ⋆ falling in love by 2ne1.

tbh i have zero clue what i wrote,,, i wrote this entire fic over the course of like two weeks at 3am in the morning.. pls forgive me if the plot makes no sense i was kinda desperate to post smth :”D but nonetheless, i channeled all of my inner fantasies of spider-mark bc i’m a wh//re for spider-mark <3 anyway, welcome to my vv first fic, hope u enjoy!

YOU’VE COME TO LEARN THAT SUNDAY SERVICES ARE THE BEST TIMES TO fantasize about Mark Lee. He sits at the front, facing the crowd as the guitar rests in his lap. His hands—oh God, his hands—delicately grasp the instrument, strumming the chords to the beat of the drums. He softly sings along, bobbing his head as he does.

Mark Lee truly is the head pastor’s son.

Jesus, I want his hands around my neck.

You gulp at the thought, a rather unholy image flashing before your eyes. Ripping your eyes away from Mark’s concentrated figure, you digest the lyrics on the board, attempting to sing along in harmony with the rest of the adults. It probably wouldn’t be the brightest idea to get horny during the head pastor’s sermon, especially considering how the boy of your daydreams is none other than his son.

For now, you’ll have to drop the Mark and choking agenda.

For now.

You’ll return to it later in the warmth of your room.

Nice.

For now, you’ll simply admire his beauty and fantasize about the way last week could’ve gone had you played your cards a little differently when he’d given you a ride. If only you hadn’t over-thought about the outcomes of fucking him, maybe, just maybe, something could have happened in the backseat of his car. Maybe, your stupid little fantasies would’ve finally had a taste of reality.

But you’re a chicken, a scaredy-cat. You’d rather simp for Mark than possibly face rejection. After all, your church is small, and it’d be impossible to avoid him.

But damn, how nice would it be to ride him in his car.

The service crawls by at the speed of a tortoise, your consciousness struggling to stay awake. It’s torture, moving up from the youth’s services to the adult’s. You can’t handle a sermon for forty minutes—it’s simply too much.

By the time the service concludes, you’ve gone through at least seven different scenarios with Mark. You purse your lips as you gather your stuff. There’s no way you’ll be able to look Mark Lee in the eyes today.

You don’t get the chance to anyway, because Mark is gone the moment the service is done.

“Mark’s gotten busier in the past year,” your mother observes, noticing his disappearance. “I wonder if it’s because of the Stark internship?”

“Probably,” you mutter, a little disappointed. You were hoping he’d stay longer today just like he did last week, but he’s obviously got priorities elsewhere. You don’t blame him though; school is tough, internship even more.

Next week, you think to yourself. I’ll see him again next week.

Spoiler alert: you don’t.

Three weeks pass, and not once did you see Mark. He’s missed three Sunday services in a row, which is unusual for a guy like him. You try not to think much of it, but you can’t help but wonder if the Stark internship really means that much to Mark.

(Well, it probably does, seeing how he bawled his eyes out after Tony Stark died.)

(He’s a fanboy. You find it cute.)

You sigh, looking out the car window. Perhaps you should move on, seek the dick of another man. You’ve been all over Mark Lee for a year now, and where has that gotten you? Nowhere. It’s not like you actually harbour feelings for Mark, just a certain curiosity for the way he tastes. Probably better to put an end to your fantasies now anyway, as you’re struggling to meet the head pastor’s friendly gaze out of guilt and embarrassment.

“Y/N?” your mother calls, briefly turning her head to glance at you. “Are you alright? That was quite the sigh.”

“I’m fine,” you answer, offering a harmless grin. “Just a little stressed with my upcoming ex—”

One minute, the car is racing down the bridge, the next, it’s sent toppling off the side.

A scream rips from your throat, overlapping with your mother’s terrified shrieks. The car, heavier than a rock, falls straight for the lake head-first. Your hand manages to grasp your mother’s, tears escaping your eyes at the fate you’re about to face. Death is inevitable, and at this moment, you hate that it is. But the fall is cut short when an unknown force tugs you to a stop, the car recoiling at the sudden pull. Your head hits the head restraint, a buzzing sound echoing in your ears. You can vaguely hear your mother sob your name over and over again, her voice faltering in fear. Despite your vision blurring, you reach to comfort your mother.

“M—Mom,” you gasp, lips dry, “I’m here, I’m here. I love you, mom—”

There’s a thud from the back of the car, and you dissect that the weight of something—or someone—is sitting on your car. Your mother faints, and you catch her limp head with your hand. You purse your lips, swallowing the tears.

“Hey! Hey, can you hear me?” you hear a muffled voice shout. “Hang in there, I’ll get you out!”

The trunk door is ripped off with ease, the impact slightly shaking the car. You twist your head to see who it is, one hand still cradling your mother’s head.

“Help!” you cry, the waterworks shifting gears. “My mom—she’s—she—”

A familiar voice warms the air. “Woah, calm down! Calm down for me, yeah? Breathe in, breathe out. I’ll get you and your mom out of there, ‘kay?”

Relief washes over you when the silhouette becomes recognizable. “Spider-Man,” you murmur, “thanks.”

“Y—Yeah. No problem.”

“Please, my mom first. She needs paramedics, her blood pressure might be unstable. I can—I can wait,” you beg.

Spider-Man seems hesitant. “The car is bound to break. It’s too risky to leave you alone.”

You shake your head. “I’ll be fine. My mom is my priority. Please.” You whisper the last part.

The Avenger stays still for a moment before silently nodding. He moves over to the driver’s side, tearing the car door off with ease. He gently removes the seatbelt, embracing your mother with care. He cradles her in one arm, and looks at you. “Stay put. I’ll be back for you in a second.”

You can only nod as Spider-Man shoots a web to the sky, swinging away with your unconscious mother. You swallow harshly, unable to turn back to the nauseating view below you. It’s nearing midnight, the night sky a dark navy shade, the waters pitch black. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and you find yourself muttering a prayer to God.

“Please don’t let me die yet.”

Snap.

Oh my God, I’m going to die.

Carefully, you glance up at the rope of web holding onto the car. It’s thick, but you can see it has started to snap under the weight.

You need to get out of here.

There’s nothing but white clouding your mind as you unbuckle your seatbelt, pressing your feet against the dashboard to work against gravity. Using all the energy you can muster, you squeeze yourself through the two front seats, stretching an arm to grab a hold of the middle seat’s headrest. You breathe as steadily as possible, heaving yourself up while attempting to keep the car from swaying side to side. It works, until it doesn’t.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

The web has fallen victim to the weight, and only a string of it is keeping you suspended up high. A wild idea runs through your mind, one you’re crazy enough to enact on. Spider-Man did say he’ll be back for you in a second, and it’s been more than one. By now, he ought to be on his way to save you.

With that hope in mind, you crawl out of the car, jumping just as the last string snaps.

“Y/N!”

The wind howls in your ears as you claw at the air, the painful realization of failure settling in your gut. You should have just stayed in the car.

You’re plummeting backwards now, gravity dragging you to your demise. The edge of the bridge is only getting farther and farther, bright blues and reds peeking out from behind the wall. A figure closes in on you, his desperation clear despite the mask covering his face. You can see it in his body language, see it in his reaching hands.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers in your ear, securing his arm around your waist. You automatically cling to him, fingers grasping at the soft yet solid material of his suit. You bury your face into the arch of his neck, choking up a sob.

You’re alive.

You’ve been saved.

You’re not ascending tonight.

“Y/N!” your mother cries, breaking free from the paramedics’ hold when Spider-Man swings you to the edge of the bridge. He softly sets you down on the road, which has been blocked off by the police. You nearly fall from her tackle, releasing breathy sobs as she hugs you tightly. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Paramedics rush to your side, a first-aid kit in tow. They examine your well-being, attending to a wound on your forehead you hadn’t noticed before. Your hands are shaking from the accident, your breathing shallow.

“Mr. Spider-Man,” a police officer says, his voice full of authority. “We thank you once again for your help in catching the criminal.”

You break away from your mother, gazing over at the Avenger. Your mother staggers over to him, her frail hands gratefully clasping his clothed ones. “Thank you, Mr. Spider-Man. Thank you so much. I will forever be indebted.”

Spider-Man scratches his head. “Ah, well, it was no biggie. I’m glad the criminal didn’t severely hurt anyone but…I can’t say the same for the bridge.”

“Yes, well, that is our problem now,” the police officer grunts, obviously unhappy with the current state of the bridge. He then turns to your mother. “Ma’am, I’m Officer Suh from the National Security Investigation unit. Are you alright with lending us your personal address so we can take you home? All information shared will stay confidential.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” your mother nods, letting go of Spider-Man’s hands. She rejoins your side, her fingers wrapping around yours. “Thank you, officer.”

“It is my pleasure.”

In the next five minutes, your mother and you are placed in a police car to safely escort you back to your house. It’s past midnight, and the moon continues to glow a muted silver. The conversation outside doesn’t cease, Officer Suh furiously scribbling down witness statements and Spider-Man’s testaments. The cop with you, a relatively young recruit, revs the engine of the car. Your mother is fast asleep, her heavy head resting on your shoulder as she snores without a worry. You pat her thigh, feeling fatigue overwhelm your senses, too.

You’re nearly asleep when a shiver runs down your spine.

How did Spider-Man know your name?

“I heard you nearly died on Thursday,” Yerim mentions, chewing on a piece of rice cake. “It’s all over the news. My mom almost fainted, you know, when she saw your car dangling from the bridge. I’m glad you’re alive.”

You steal a chunk of her injeolmi. “Spider-Man’s real.”

Yerim raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I don’t know. I always thought the Avengers were surreal.”

“They literally saved the earth from Thanos last year.”

“Shut up, Yerim.”

Two days have passed since the accident on the bridge, and here you are, attending church as if death wasn’t at your doorstep just a few nights ago. The news spread rather quickly throughout the city, and even quicker throughout the small church community. You’d received messages from adults and youths alike, wishing you well and showing their gratitude to God—and Spider-Man—for saving your life. Forty minutes ago, during the usual Sunday service, a separate prayer had been presented by the head pastor to thank the Holy Spirit for the miracle. Like always, your eyes had searched for a certain figure amongst the praise team. And once again, Mark Lee is absent.

“So, what was Spider-Man like?” asks Yerim, redirecting your attention to her. “He’s an Avenger. Is he hot?”

You shrug. “Didn’t see his face, but he sounded like he was our age. Which is surprising, since most of the Avengers are…older.”

“Like, middle-aged.”

“Yeah. Middle-aged.”

“Ah, I wanna meet an Avenger!” Yerim pouts, sliding down the pew. “I wonder if Mark gets to meet the Avengers a lot.”

“Mark?”

She nods. “His Stark internship, remember? He probably doesn’t, though. Bet he works with everyone but the Avengers.”

“Speaking of, where has he been for the past month?” you ask, hoping the question comes off as an innocent inquiry rather than an ‘I’m interested in him so I want to know about him’ type. “Mark hasn’t come to church for like a month now.”

Yerim juts out her bottom lip, scrunching her nose as she thinks. “I texted him, like, two weeks ago. He said he was busy training with Stark Industries. He’s probably all the way in New York right now.”

You hum, chewing on the last portion of injeolmi. “I wonder if the internship pays for his expenses.”

“Must be nice if they do.”

You wonder what Mark is up to right now. It’s a little devastating, being unable to see the boy of your fantasies for five weeks. His bright smile, his kind eyes…his hands. You really miss witnessing his veiny hands caress the guitar as he strums a melody.

Next week, you tell yourself again. I’ll see him next week.

You see him before Sunday ends.

It takes everything within you to not let out a terrified scream, the ongoing storm outside doing nothing to help. You don’t see him when you first enter your room, occupied by the link your friend had sent you moments before. When lightning flashes and you briefly look up at your open window, you see a man hanging upside down, looking straight into your room.

“W—Wait!” Spider-Man whispers, his voice nearly drowning in the downpour. “It’s not what it looks like—and I know this looks bad, but I swear—”

“How the fuck do you know where I live?” you hiss, standing in front of your window with your arms crossed. “Aren’t you a hero, not a stalker?”

Spider-Man vigorously shakes his head. “I’m not a stalker! I just—I was worried, you know? After everything that went down on Friday, I just wanted to check up on you, see if you were alright.”

You scrutinize him. “Do you do this to all the people you save?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then why are you here?”

“To see if you’re okay?”

You prod your inner cheek with the tip of your tongue. “Spider-Man, do you like me or something?”

“What—no! No, that’s ridiculous!” You can’t tell if you’re hallucinating, but the Avenger seems…nervous. “I’m just doing my job as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.”

“But why me? You don’t check-up on anyone else, so why am I any different?”

He shrugs. “Because I couldn’t go to church tod—”

Spider-Man slaps a hand over his mouth at the same time your heart drops.

“Shit.”

“Mark?” you whisper, uncertainty laced in your voice.

“Uh…no. I’m not Mark. Who’s Mark?”

Your heart is beating at an abnormal pace. You can’t unhear it now; that voice is most definitely Mark Lee, the head pastor’s son, the boy of your fantasies. On Thursday, you couldn’t really dissect anything due to the adrenaline of nearly dying. But now, with a much clearer head and the time to think, you can connect the dots. Mark’s been missing the Sunday services due to his duty as a hero. He has an internship at Stark Industries because he’s an Avenger (or it might just be a cover-up). He’s saved millions of lives, and even battled against Thanos. He personally knew Tony Stark and that was why he bawled his eyes out when he died.

Mark Lee is Spider-Man.

Mark Lee is Spider-Man, so that’s why he knows where you live, that’s why he knew your name on the bridge, and that’s why he didn’t sound like a middle-aged man.

“Well, since I’ve checked up on you, I’m gonna go—”

“Mark?”

“Yes? I mean! Who?”

You suppress a snort, pursing your lips to do so. “Thank you. On Thursday, I mean. When you saved my mom and I from, well, dying.”

Spider-Man—Mark—bashfully shrugs. “It’s my job.”

“Do your parents know you’re Spider-Man?”

The guy coughs. “Well, I’m not Ma—”

He falters when you tug off his mask, his eyes widening at your unexpected action. A small smile dances on your lips as you whisper, “Liar.”

A look of defeat paints his face. “Fine. I’m Mark.”

It’s nearly impossible for you to breathe as you take in the wonderful sight of the boy before you. Despite the lack of light and the shadows cast across his face, his beauty is incapable of being dimmed. You notice his damp hair, and the rain running down his skin. The suit fits him tightly, defining his abs and toned muscles.

You set his mask down on the windowsill. “Wait here. I’ll grab you a towel to dry yourself off.” You turn towards the door, but swivel around to order, “Don’t leave, Mark.”

Your trip to the bathroom is silent, working hard to blend in with the night. In the bathroom, you grab three sets of towels, one for his hair, one for his body, and one just in case. Additionally, you grab a fresh T-shirt from the laundry room that fits oversized on you.

When you return from the bathroom, Mark is gone. In his place, on your phone, is a KakaoTalk message received a few seconds ago.

mark lee: pls don’t tell anyone.

Disappointment settles in your gut, but you’re not exactly surprised. You probably shouldn’t have taken his mask off during the heat of the moment, regret running through your veins. He must hate you now, there’s no way he doesn’t. Mark’s an anonymous superhero for a reason, and some girl who’s not even a friend uncovering his identity defeats the whole purpose. You’re about to move around when your phone lights up from a second KakaoTalk message.

mark lee: i’ll drop by tomorrow night. good night, y/n

Your heart picks up an erratic speed.

you: will do. good night, mark :)

You hope the smiley face isn’t too weird.

Mark does not keep promises, and you learn it the hard way. Monday arrived and passed in a blur, and no pastor’s son clad in a red bodysuit showed up at your window. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday resulted in the same outcome; no Spider-Man in sight, and no messages explaining why. But two hours into Friday, three days past the night Mark had promised to revisit, rapid knocks at your window jolt you awake. A scowl occupies your half-asleep face at the familiar sight of Mark Lee in his superhero attire.

“It’s two in the morning.” A displeasured grunt tumbles from your lips as you push your window open, letting Mark settle on the window sill in an uncomfortable position. You click your tongue. “Just come in. I can wipe the floor after.”

Mark sheepishly nods. “Thanks. And sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to show up unexpectedly.”

“You couldn’t have sent a single message?”

“That…kinda didn’t cross my mind.”

You sigh, slumping onto your bed. Mark hesitates by the window. You gesture to the office chair beside your desk. Mark complies, politely sitting down. He takes off his mask, a sheer layer of sweat coating his skin.

“So…” the boy begins.

“So.” you repeat.

“About Sunday…”

“My lips are sealed,” you say, mimicking a zipper across your mouth.

Mark softly smiles. “Thanks, Y/N. I knew I could trust you.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Your heart skips a beat at his words. Stupid.

“So, uh,” you lamely attempt at a conversation, “how did you become Spider-Man? I’ve known you for years now, so it’s kinda cool, I guess, that you’re a hero.”

The boy scratches his head, and under the faint moonlight, you see a faint blush dust his cheeks. “I don’t know, really, it just sort of happened. Got bit by some glowing spider and the next minute, I could climb walls and was way stronger than an average human being.”

You muse, “A glowing spider?”

“Ridiculous, right?”

“It’s realistic,” you grin, “something that would definitely happen in this universe. And I remember seeing you with a bandaid on your neck for the longest time. The spider bit you there?”

“Ah, no.” coughs Mark, and his cheeks grow even redder. “I was scratched by Jeno’s cat there. The spider bit me”—he points to his left wrist, a finger landing on a vessel—“here, right where my blood flows.”

You peer at where he points. “Interesting. It must’ve had some sort of special property—maybe a poison—that changed your body to what it is now. Do you make webs, too? Like, the way spiders do?”

Mark sputters. “No! No. I do not shit webs out of me. I make them in the school laboratory out of chemicals.” He taps the gadget on his wrist.

“That is cool,” you breathe, in awe of his invention. “And the suit? Did you make it too?”

“No, Mr. Stark did.” You don’t miss the way his expression falls at the mention of the late Avenger. “He—A lot of my suits were made by him. But I kinda got most of them destroyed from fighting and shit.”

There is a line you shouldn’t cross, and you’re wary of it this time. Sunday evening, you got a little nosy and unveiled Mark without his permission. You’re not about to disrespect his boundaries again. You settle with saying, “Your current suit is nice. I like the fabric.”

Mark smiles, a little too sadly for your liking. “It’s pretty soft on the inside.”

Silence blankets your bedroom as you awkwardly play with the hem of your T-shirt, unsure of what else to say. You rack your brain for conversation topics, but Mark ceases the brewing storm by standing up. “I should get going now,” he says, looking at the digital clock on your shelf. “It’s nearly two-thirty a.m.” He cheekily adds, “Can’t afford to miss school tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You forgot he’s a university student, too. “Right. Studies are important.” You stand up from your bed, walking over to the window. Mark has already perched himself on the ledge, one hand attached to the building’s outer brick wall. “Uh, Mark?”

“Yeah?” Mark’s voice is muffled as he slips his mask back on.

“I’m really sorry about Sunday. I didn’t mean to just—expose you like that. I got nervous and excited and I couldn’t stop myself—well, not that this excuses my behaviour—but I’m really sorry. I swear on my mother’s life that I will not tell anyone about your alter ego. Your secret is safe with me until the millisecond I die.”

Mark laughs, and your ears burn in embarrassment. You really suck at dealing with guys you find attractive. Maybe it’s time you reevaluate your feelings for the head pastor’s son.

“Y/N?” He snaps you out of your thoughts. “Don’t worry about it. I’d been really stressed without having anyone to talk to about being an Avenger and all. I’m glad you’re the first person to know about my identity.”

Your eyes widen, and the heat creeps up your neck. “I—I’m glad you feel that way,” you murmur, tongue-tied. Your heart stutters from excitement. With a genuine grin, you look up at Spider-Man. “Good night, Mark. Get home safe.”

“Night, Y/N.” With that, he’s off, swinging into the dark.

It’s funny how relationships can change overnight. Just over a month ago, Mark was nothing but a sweet daydream to lose yourself in during Sunday services. Now, you leave your window open for him to sneak in through.

Truthfully speaking, you don’t know what he is to you, nor you to him. He’s a companion, but he’s possibly more. A friend? A crush? You’re unsure, and you’re somewhat afraid to find out. But one thing’s for sure: Mark has found a sort of comfort within you, and you within him. The once-awkward air has now dissipated into a cozy warmth you like to indulge yourself in.

It’s been two weeks since that fateful Friday morning. Two Sunday services had gone by, and Mark had popped in for one of them. Many were delighted to see him, and you didn’t have the chance to talk to him. Only a simple hey had been exchanged between the two of you before Yerim pestered the poor guy about his Stark internship. It was funny, watching him blurt out white lies to protect his identity. In retrospect, you probably should’ve helped him worm out of the conversation, but alas, you’re not the best when it comes to covering for someone else. One lie from you and Yerim would’ve caught on to your dishonesty. He was better off wiggling his way out than relying on you for support.

Friday, ten at night, Mark is sliding the window shut behind him.

“Dude, you won’t believe what I saw today.”

You sit up in your bed, not even surprised to see Mark’s shadow in your dimly lit room. “What’d you see?”

“Do you know Mrs. Kirby?”

You nearly gag at the name. “The maths teacher from S.M. High? I hated her so fucking much. She taught me calculus over the summer and holy shit, the worst experience in my life.”

“Oh, I had her for AP Calculus and she threatened to fail all of us over winter break.” Mark shudders at the recollection. “But that’s not the point. Kirby’s literally a sugar mommy.”

This time, you do gag. “Mrs. Kirby’s a what?”

“Yeah, a sugar mommy. I was out earlier, fighting the bad guys, doing what I do, when I saw her with some dude twenty years younger on the street. She was, like, all over him, touching his abs and shit. It was so bad.”

“You could’ve kept that to yourself.”

“I really couldn’t.”

A groan slips from your lips as you hop off your bed, walking towards him with your arms crossed. You glare at him, and he ignores you, tugging off his mask and tossing it onto his backpack. He sits on the floor as per usual, a grunt escaping his throat. You sigh, grabbing the bowl and chopsticks from your desk.

“Our family ordered takeout earlier,” you explain as you set a bowl of chow mein down on the floor before him. It’s become a routine now; Mark sneaking in at night and you providing a filling dinner. You learned a lot about Mark in the past few weeks, and him a lot about you. Mark is in quite the predicament right now, lying to his parents about being in New York for the internship. He’s struggling to juggle both his student life and his superhero career, unable to find a balance between the two. Numerous nights are spent listening to him rant about the difficulties of shouldering two characters, and repeatedly suggesting that he quits school. You urge him to use the Stark internship as an excuse, or to simply come clean as Spider-Man. And each time, Mark vehemently refuses to tell his parents the truth.

Such as now.

His cheeks are full of chow mein when he disapproves of your idea for the nth time.

“But why?” You question, again. “You get paid a stipend from the Starks. Isn’t it possible to have a proper career as Spider-Man?”

Mark sets down his chopsticks. “It’s possible, and dream-wise, the most appealing future.”

You chew on a Starburst. “Well, you obviously can’t give up on Spider-Man no matter what. You told me you might forfeit university, but never Spider-Man. I think even you agree that the superhero life is what you yearn for, so why not make a living off of what you want to do?”

The Avenger stills, and his eyes fix on the chow mein.

You continue to ramble. “You could pull a Tony Stark. Reveal your identity, build a company. Or just stay anonymous. Up to you.”

Mark’s shoulders stiffen, and you notice the way his eyebrows furrow. You gaze at him, worried. Guilt pricks at your conscience as you deduce you’ve said something wrong.

“Mark?”

“Y/N,” his voice is barely a whisper, “I risk my life every time I enter a battlefield. What if one day…one day I don’t return? Like Mr. Stark, or Miss Romanoff.”

Oh. You stare at him helplessly.

“Being Spider-Man is amazing, and I love everything about it. But I’m also a university student and I want to live like one. I want to go out drinking with friends. I want to apply for part-time jobs at restaurants or cafés. I want to stay active in the church community. I want to go on dates, find a girlfriend. I want to be Mark Lee, but Spider-Man is holding me back. And I…I don’t know what to do.”

There’s a burden Mark shoulders, a mountain of expectations and responsibilities he must live up to—both as Mark Lee and as Spider-Man. Not only does he have to save the world when trouble comes, he has the duty as a student to maintain good grades and aim for graduation. As Mark, his parents expect nothing but the best. As Spider-Man, the whole world depends on him to rescue the day.

Mark Lee is torn between his two identities.

“Doctor Strange told me I’m indecisive,” Mark continues, prodding at his chow mein. “He says I’m trying to live two different lives at once, and that it won’t work. Eventually, I’ll have to choose between one or the other, but I don't want to. I’m selfish and I want to live both at once.”

“I don’t know if I have the right to say this,” you speak, gaining Mark’s attention, “but I genuinely think you should sit down with your parents and talk about this. You’re struggling to keep up with both your parents’ and the world’s expectations, and it’s eating you from the inside. Maybe talk to this Doctor Strange, too. He sounds wise.”

“Maybe,” chuckles Mark, a sad smile gracing his lips. “I wish Mr. Stark was alive. He’d probably know what to do.”

You don’t know what to say, and Mark notices. “Sorry,” he sheepishly chuckles, rubbing the back of his ear. “Didn’t mean to share such depressing thoughts.”

“Oh, uh—”

“I’ll get going now,” Mark interrupts, abruptly standing up. “Thanks for the meal, Y/N. Sorry I couldn’t finish it all. I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

“Mark—”

Your voice falls on deaf ears as Mark moves quickly, pulling his mask back on and slinging his backpack over a shoulder. He mounts the window sill, gives you an ungainly peace sign, and jumps off the ledge. You can only watch as he blends in with the dark.

“Idiot.” you whisper. You begin to clear the bowl and chopsticks, neatly organizing them on a food tray. Concern lingers, and you reach for your phone.

you: talk to your parents or dr strange, mark. and just know, i’m always here to lend a shoulder. u can rant whenever you like. you: goodnight, mark :)

You’ve been left on read for about thirty-two hours.

Surprisingly, Mark is at church today, the guitar sitting in his lap at a comfortable angle. There’s a hymn playing, your mother’s soulful singing ringing in your ears. Your lips don’t move, nor do your eyes. They stay fixated on the boy, your mind replaying Friday like a broken record. Did you say something wrong? Or does Mark need space? You’re not sure, and you’d certainly appreciate a word or two from Mark. It’s strange, having him sort of ignore you after several weeks of non-stop conversing.

Maybe he’s tired of me?

You grind your jaw. He wouldn’t be; you’re not dating, just simply enjoying each other’s presence in a platonic sense.

Perhaps I still want his dick.

You grimace. That’s not good; he obviously thinks of you as a friend. To view him in that light now would just ruin the friendship you’ve built with him.

The service ends with your thoughts in a turmoil, your eyes unknowingly spaced out on Mark. He catches you staring and avoids making eye contact, but you’re too deep in your hypotheses to notice. You snap out of the daze when a finger pokes your shoulder.

“Y/N,” Yerim calls, seeking your attention. You turn to look at the girl. “Service is finished. Wanna grab lunch with me downtown?”

You glimpse Mark’s figure near the doorway, standing beside his father, greeting the passing elderly. What right do you have to go talk to him here? The friendship the two of you share is basically a secret. It’s better for you to contact him later, during the peak of the night when no one is awake. Your eyes return to Yerim. “Sure.” you reply, gathering your stuff. “What restaurant?”

Yerim pulls out her phone and types in a location on a maps app. “There’s this ramen house I really wanna try. The ratings are, like, four out of five stars, and I heard there’s some really cute waiters there.”

You mindlessly nod.

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting at a corner table at Chef Moon’s Ramen, a menu spread out in front of you. Yerim hums as she skims through the offered ramens, while you browse the side dishes.

“So, what’s gotten into you lately?” asks Yerim, her gaze never lifting from the menu.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

She flips the menu. “You know, you’ve been a little distant these days. Not from me, but from reality in general, I guess. Did that even make sense?”

“No,” you shake your head, “it didn’t. What’re you trying to say?”

“Is there something on your mind, Y/N? You can tell me, you know.”

“I…”

You falter as a waiter walks up to your table, his smile charming as he says, “Good afternoon, ladies. Ready to order?”

“Yes, I’ll have the”—Yerim points to a dish on the menu—“miso pork ramen with a side of gyoza, please.”

The waiter nods, writing her order down. “And for you?”

You glance at the menu. “Just a regular veggie ramen, thank you.”

“One miso pork ramen with a side of gyoza and a regular veggie ramen?”

“Yes.” Your voice overlaps with Yerim’s.

The waiter disappears with the menu, and you nibble on your bottom lip. Yerim stares at you, analyzing your every move.

“There’s this guy,” you start, ignoring the way Yerim perks up in interest, “and I don’t know how I feel about him.” You can’t tell if you’re doing the right thing, telling Yerim about your worries. As long as she doesn’t know it’s about Mark…

“Is this about Mark?”

You choke on air. “Wh—How’d you know?” Your eyes widen when you accidentally slip up. Great. “As long as she doesn’t know it’s about Mark” my ass.

Yerim hums, taking a delicate sip of water. “Well, I’ve been speculating about this for a while. It wasn’t hard to figure out, either. You’ve always been looking at Mark, so I kinda concluded that you might like him.” She leans in. “Why? Is he being a dick to you?”

You clear your throat, awkwardly playing with a napkin. “Well—no, not really. He’s not being a dick to me, he’s just…not communicating.”

“Wait. Are you guys a thing or something? It’s not one-sided?”

“Well, we’re not a thing or whatever, just…friends? Sort of? But Yerim, the problem is me. I don’t know how I feel about him. I always found him hot, attractive, blah, blah, blah, but nowadays…I don’t know. I keep thinking about him.”

The girl whistles, crossing her arms. “So you like him.”

You blink. “Do I?”

“Sounds like you do. Look, I find Mark attractive, too. But I don’t think about him twenty-four seven. Hey—do you get jealous whenever you think of Mark being with another girl?”

To be frank, you’d never thought of Mark being with another girl. He’d always been at your side when the clock struck twelve, so to think of him in another girl’s bed was unfathomable at the time.

But what about before twelve? What if he was with a girl before he came to me?

Your ears turn red.

“Yeah,” you whisper, a new found shyness building up within you. “I don’t like the idea of Mark being with another girl besides me.”

“Voila!” Yerim cheers, tossing her hands up. “Congratulations, Y/N. You have a crush on Mark Lee!”

“Yerim!” you hiss, heat gathering in your cheeks. The table next to you eyes you. “You’re being too loud!”

“Since when did you guys become friends?” she asks, tossing aside your complaint. “I never see you interacting with him at church. What, did the two of you accidentally meet over Tinder?”

You groan, concocting a white lie. “We just…kinda began messaging each other on Instagram, you know? Nothing special.”

“Lame.”

You don’t have the chance to refute as your orders arrive, the smell of ramen infiltrating your senses. Yerim wastes no time and dives in right away, taking a bite of a gyoza.

She’s right; you caught feelings. And you’ve known for quite some time now that whatever you felt for Mark was more than friends, more than a sexual desire. The worries you carry for him, the amount of effort you put into lending him a home for the nights, the way your mind always makes its way back to him. You like Mark Lee; you always have. Perhaps a confrontation with the help of Yerim was needed to accept the truth wholly.

That’s one burden resolved. Now, you need to figure out a way to fix the sudden strain between you and Mark.

But before that, the ramen is calling your name.

you: mark, i need to talk to you. pls come to my room tonight. it’s urgent.

The text was sent five hours ago, and now you’re having dinner with your family. A plate of pasta sits before you, half of the food displaced into your stomach. Noodles for lunch, noodles for dinner.

Your phone buzzes.

mark lee: u busy? i’m outside ur window rn.

You’re no longer having dinner with your family.

mark lee: sry i frogot to send a msg before coming

“Y/N?” your mother inquires as you abruptly stand up, wolfing down the remaining pasta. “Is everything alright?”

“‘m fwine!” you reassure her, placing your dirty plate and fork in the sink. You swallow the food. “I forgot I had a—uh—meeting with some friends today. I’ll be back later!”

“Don’t be out too late!” is the last thing you hear as you zip out of the dining room and straight up the stairs. Your heart is pounding, the beat reaching your ears. Sweat coats your palms as you push your bedroom door open. Under the setting sun, you can see Mark’s figure at your window, clad in a suit you’ve never seen before. You waste no time and lock the door behind you, scurrying over to unlock your window for him.

“Hey,” you breathe, chest heaving up and down. “Come in.”

You’re about to move aside when Mark grabs your wrist, the material of his suit cold against your skin. You stare at him, eyebrows raised out of curiosity.

“Can I take you somewhere?” he asks, tone gentle and soft.

You don’t hesitate. “Just bring me back by ten.”

Mark nods, loosening his grip. He extends an arm towards you, inviting you into his embrace. You blush, hard. “Don’t tell me…”

“I won’t drop you,” he laughs, voice a little airy. “Trust me, Y/N.”

“Fine. Wait a second.” You run over to your closet where several of your shoes are scattered. You pick up a pair of comfortable slides and make your way back to Mark. “Okay. I’m ready.”

One arm firmly wraps itself around your torso, his hand grazing your stomach. You try not to focus on the close proximity, but it’s impossible when Mark’s neck is the only thing you see. With his strength, Mark lifts you out of your room, leaving the two of you dangling from the side of your house.

“I’m gonna swing,” he whispers, “you ready?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and hug him tightly. “Sure.”

You’re not ready, and Mark probably knows from the loud scream you let out as he drops from the building and swings up in one go. Buildings of all kinds whiz by in a blur, the only solid shape being Mark’s nape. Your hands become clammy with a cold sweat. Nausea begins to bloom at the pit of your stomach, and it takes everything you’ve got to not puke all over the boy.

How the fuck does Mark do this shit?

The rollercoaster of a ride finishes when Mark lands atop a tall building, both of his arms now wrapped around your figure. He carefully sets you down, and your knees nearly give out on you.

“Woah,” says Mark, clasping your arm. “You good?”

You sarcastically chuckle. “Yeah, definitely. That was one hell of an experience.” You drop your slides, slipping your feet into them. “What is this place?”

Mark walks over to a large, brick wall, where a mural of Iron Man proudly shines. In awe, you scan the beautiful artwork. You join Mark beside the wall, raising a hand to touch the brick. “Did you paint this?”

He shakes his head. “Renjun did. He’s another Stark intern, like me. And this,” he spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the area, “is where I go when I’m anything but fine.”

Your heart jumps several stairs. Did Mark Lee just bring you to a place only he (and Renjun) knows of?

Don’t get weird ideas, Y/N.

“I can listen if you want to rant,” you offer, sending him a warm smile. “I’m all ears.”

You’re caught off-guard when Mark’s suit…disintegrates? Crumbles? You can’t think of a proper word, but the main point is, you’re shocked at the advanced technology his suit contains. The Spider-Man suit has now been replaced by a pair of baggy, navy green jeans, and a moss-coloured sweater.

You conclude Mark is more attractive in casual wear.

Mark breaks the ice. “My parents know I’m Spider-Man.”

“Wh—What?” you sputter, caught off-guard for the second time in a row. “I mean, I know I encouraged it and all, but…wow.”

“My dad nearly fainted,” he continues, rubbing his nape. “My mom, on the other hand, was not happy. She threw her wooden spoon at me. Started yelling about my future, how unsafe being Spider-Man was, threatening to lock me in my room. You know, Asian mom things.”

You take a seat on the ground. “I’m assuming you ran out instead of talking it out with her?”

Mark frowns. “Yeah.”

“That’s not very smart.”

He sighs. “Yeah.”

You pat the space beside you, and Mark settles down. “Continue.”

The boy fiddles with his fingers. He resumes, “Honestly, I knew how my mom would react. I knew she’d criticize my whole double-life act and try to pull me away from Spider-Man. And I know she’s like that because she cares about my well-being, but…I just wish she’d consider my feelings too, you know? I understand how dangerous being Spider-Man is—fuck, I literally experience that shit first-hand. But I can’t give up on the Avengers, on Spider-Man, just like how I couldn’t give up on university, or church.” Mark breathes. “I just ran off to give her some space, I guess. Let her think her words over. And, well, to let me cool my head and reorganize what I wanna say to her.”

Your hand finds Mark’s, and you pat it reassuringly. “I guess that was a rather smart move, Mark.”

He nods. “But, you know, when she was shouting at me earlier, it kinda made me really realize how terrifying it is to be a hero. I really do put my life on the line every time I fight, especially when it’s against supernatural creatures like Thanos. I’m barely an adult.”

“True,” you hum in agreement. “The work you do is not exactly cut out for a guy who just turned legal.”

Mark snorts. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish there were more Avengers my age. But the whole idea of being a superhero is dangerous, especially for teens who are still developing—”

“Puberty,”

“—their brains, but yes, puberty works.” His eyes gaze up at the mural. “I mean, when I was fighting Captain America’s team at age fourteen, all I did was talk half of the time. Not a very ideal situation to chit-chat in.”

“So,” you begin, “are you thinking of letting Spider-Man go?”

Mark grows silent, and you can see the gears turn in his head. He glances at you, then at the mural, and then at you again. Finally, he shakes his head. “The opposite, actually. I’m going to let go of my regular life.”

Your jaw slacks, a wave of disbelief crashing into you. You maintain a calm composure. “Why? Everything you told me sounded as if you were quitting the Avengers. Why are you…why?”

“My family is struggling to get by right now,” says Mark, nibbling on his lower lip. “My dad works full-time as a pastor and my mom isn’t strong enough to keep up with her labour job. Jeno needs to finish high school. If I work full-time as an Avenger, I’ll earn more pay and it’ll help my family live comfortably. I don’t want to see them suffer.”

“But you leaving to fight fucking villains won’t ease their hearts, Mark.” you say, wrestling the rising panic down. “It’ll make them suffer more.” And me, too.

“They’ll understand my decision,” he insists, but his tone is as if he’s trying to convince himself of his own words. “I know they’ll be worried, but if it’s for the greater good of our family, they will let me pursue a full-time career as Spider-Man.”

“But…” You search for words. “What about your wishes of living a normal university life? Going out for drinks with friends? Staying active in church? Getting a girlfriend and going on dates?”

Mark’s eye twitches, and he grits his teeth. “Y/N, I don’t know why you care so much. I’ve made up my mind.”

You cast your eyes downwards, hiding the upset expression painting your face. “Sorry.”

“It’s—It’s fine,” he mutters, his tone laced with emotional exhaustion. “I’ll give you a ride back home.”

“By swinging?”

“No. My car’s parked down there.”

Your arms are around Mark’s neck as he lowers the two of you from the top of the building to the sidewalk below. His car, a grey civic, is located across the street. Mark is sweet enough to open the passenger seat’s door for you, but he doesn’t say anything. There’s a thick tension surrounding the two of you, one neither of you are willing to cut with a knife.

There’s no need for you to enter your address as Mark knows the way there, having visited you for the past month or so. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel, the other hanging out of the window. You stare outside the window, watching the scenery change from foreign buildings to a familiar neighbourhood. In about thirteen minutes, you’re turning the corner onto your street. Mark stops the car a few houses down from your place.

You stay still. Mark taps the steering wheel. For five minutes, the two of you sit in an uncomfortable silence. You decide to wield the knife. “Mark, I care because I like you.”

You confessed.

Holy fucking shit. I confessed.

Mark’s eyes widen, a pink tint dusting his ears. He whips his head to face you, and you bravely make eye contact with him. “You what?”

It’s now or never. Yay. “I said, I like you. Like, like-like you.”

“You’re kidding.”

You’re a little annoyed by his response. “I’m not, Mark. Why would I joke about that? I genuinely have feelings for you, and that’s why I’m so concerned about you. I don’t like the idea of my crush running around and placing his life on the line for a paycheck.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” groans Mark, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “Please don’t make this harder for me. I’ve already made my decision.”

“Fine. So be it. You’re going to pursue a life as Spider-Man. I understand your situation, and I’m not going to impose my wants on you. That’s no longer important to me, because Mark, I want you to be my boyfriend.”

Mark gawks at you.

You blow out air. “Okay, wait, I kinda just imposed my wants on you. But the moral of the story is, I like you. I like you a lot. Reject me or just leave me hanging, I don’t care. I just thought I’d let you know before you leave to become a full-time superhero.”

Your cheeks are red. Your ears are red. Your neck is red. You’re probably red all over from embarrassment.

Quickly, you begin to exit the car.

“Uh, good luck with your parents, Mark. I hope they’ll understand your decision. Thanks for the ride, I’ll maybe never see you again—”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” you breathe, looking over at him. Bad idea. The dim moonlight highlights Mark’s features, leaving you speechless and blessed.

“I can’t lose you, too.” His hands ball into fists. “I’ve lost Mr. Stark, my Aunt May, Uncle Ben. I nearly lost you on the bridge.”

You’re taken aback. “The bridge…”

He inhales sharply. “I’ve liked you for quite a while now. Kinda stupid, since we never really talked. But I’ve had a crush on you for almost two years. Yerim would always make fun of me for it.”

Wait. Yerim? She knew I liked Mark and that Mark liked me back?

Wait. Mark likes me back?

“You like me?” you repeat. “Like, like-like me?”

A stupid yet sad grin is on his face. “Yeah. I genuinely have feelings for you, too. That’s why I visited you that one evening, and that’s why I kept on going over every night. I was being selfish, possibly endangering you because of my enamourment. But I can’t stay selfish forever.” He licks his lips. “So, please, Y/N. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You shake your head, re-entering the car and shutting the door. “Mark, I’m willing to stay by your side.”

“And what if I can’t protect you, and bring you into harm's way? I can’t afford to lose you too.”

“I’ll learn how to fight,” you persist, “how to shoot a gun. I’m not a weakling, Mark. I can defend myself.” You cup his face with your hands. “Stay selfish, because I really, really like you.”

Mark loses himself in your eyes, and he mumbles, “You’re unfair.”

“So are you,” you tease. “Now that I know how you feel, I’m not going to let you go so easily. The bad guys have nothing on me.”

Mark’s response is to kiss you, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair. You give into his touch, your lips naturally fitting together like a puzzle. The kiss lasts for a minute, and you both pull away, gasping for air.

“Mark,” you whimper, your desires getting the best of you.

“Shit,” he growls, caressing your face. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

Me too, you’re tempted to say, but you decide to bury your horny fantasies of him. After all, the real thing just might happen.

No words are exchanged as Mark tugs you into his lap, pushing his seat back to allow room for the two of you. The driver’s area is quite stuffy, but nothing you can’t handle.

You kiss him fervently, hands clasping onto his shoulders for dear life. Mark’s fingers dance down your body, his large hands finding solace on either of your thighs. His thumbs rub circles into your sweatpants, the mere action fuelling your lust. You remove your lips from his, planting sloppy kisses from his jawline to the base of his neck.

“Hey, can I fuck you?” asks Mark, thumbs tracing the edge of your sweatpants.

“Do you have a condom?”

He nods.

“I’d like to cum at least two times, pretty please.”

Mark smiles widely. “As you wish, princess.”

In no time, Mark’s hand is down your pants, fingers sliding in-between your bare skin and underwear. The tip of his middle finger prods your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. Enjoying your reaction, he dives deeper into your warmth, running two fingers up and down your folds. You leave a hickey near his collarbone as he fastens his pace, the slick sound of your wet folds echoing throughout the car. Unannounced, he pushes a finger into your pussy.

“Mark!” you squeak, face turning red.

“I’m adding another one,” he says, and he does. Mark snakes a second finger in, stretching you out with his long, rough fingers. You cry out as he thrusts into you at an incomprehensible speed, reaching knuckles-deep before pulling out halfway. He litters kisses on your cheek as you whimper and whine, your first orgasm building up in your stomach. “You gonna cum?” he taunts, his pace increasing. You can’t reply, lost in the rabbit hole Mark’s fingers are. When you orgasm, you sink into the boy’s embrace, breathing heavily from the immense pleasure you’d just experienced.

“Mark,” you whisper, trailing your hand down his abdomen. Your hand brushes over the growing bulge in his pants, swallowing thickly when you register how big his dick is. “Let me put the condom on.”

Mark kisses your nose. “Are you wet enough?”

You clench around his fingers. “There’s no way I’m not.”

He hands you a condom, and you rip it open with your teeth. With the plastic dangling from your mouth, you unzip Mark’s jeans, tracing the outline of his dick with your fingertip. You hook your pinky fingers over the hem of his boxers, tugging them down to let his cock spring free. You inhale at his size.

“Can’t take it?”

“Shut up. I can take it.”

You pump his dick a few times, leaving it erect and red as you slip the condom on. Mark moves his fingers inside you, massaging your insides before pulling them out. He licks his fingers clean while you tug off your pants, struggling to move around in the tight space. When you’re ready, he props his cock against your entrance, and shoves himself in with no warning.

“Ah—fuck!” you moan, one hand landing flat against the car window. Mark grasps your hips with his hands, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifts your hips and slams them down, over and over and over again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You feel so good,” groans Mark, thrusting into you with all his power. “So, so good.”

“Mark,” you whine, repeating his name like a mantra. “Harder, oh my God.”

You’re drowning in bliss as Mark’s dick slides in and out of you at an inhuman pace, hitting the very spot that makes you writhe in pleasure. Mark tosses his head back, drinking in the sight of you bouncing on his cock. Cries and whimpers tumble from your lips, and you cum for the second time.

Mark, with a newfound energy, thrusts into you harder than ever. Sweat forms on his forehead, his gruff pants intermingling with your sweet moans. One of your hands wrinkles his sweater, and the other leaves handprints all over the driver’s seat’s window. He chases his high and releases with a guttural groan. Your third orgasm overwhelms you, shaky breaths escaping your lips. Once again, you lean against Mark’s chest, coming down from the excitement. His cock, limper than before, sits still in your pussy.

“I didn’t know car sex was this hot,” he pants, resting a hand on your back. “You good, Y/N?”

You breathe in his scent. “Mhm. Let’s stay like this for a bit.”

Your head rests on the dip connecting his neck to his shoulder, and Mark places his chin in your head. Although the act was short, you feel a lot closer to Mark now, in terms of both the heart and the body. You snuggle into his embrace.

“You didn’t answer my question from earlier.”

He tilts his head. “Hm?”

“I want you to be my boyfriend. Do you agree, yes or no?”

Mark laughs, his dick shifting inside you when he does. “I don’t think that’s how you ask someone out.”

You pinch his thigh. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes. I want to be your boyfriend. Do you want to be my girlfriend despite the shit you might face?”

“You’re stupid. I wouldn’t ask you to be my boyfriend if I didn’t want to be your girlfriend.”

Mark plants a kiss on your forehead, and you feel his lips spread into a grin. “I like you a lot, Y/N. I’m sorry for the shit I’ll put you through in the near future.”

You fiddle with his sweater. “Will you be moving away to New York?”

He sighs. “Unfortunately. I got a private apartment and all, so I’m basically on my own.”

You press a kiss to his neck. “Talk to your mom, Mark. I know she won’t stop you from leaving, but talk to her. To your dad, too. If you can’t convince them, at least tell them the full details. Tell them your worries, the whole two lives thing you told me. It’s the least you can do for them.”

It’s quiet, then Mark nods. “I will. But first,” he thrusts into you, and you drop an ‘eep’ when his dick grows. “One more round, princess.”

God, please help me survive another fuck.

“We’ll call every day, right?” you ask, pulling away from Mark’s arms.

“Of course,” the boy hums, peppering kisses all over your face. “I’ll call you whenever I can. But don’t stay up late waiting for me. You need to sleep properly.”

You snicker. “Whose fault was it that I stayed up past two for a month straight?”

“Not mine,” he winks.

“Jesus, Mark,” you roll your eyes, but fail to suppress a giggle. “I’m going to miss you.”

Mark points to the left side of your chest. “Just mark me in your heart, princess. Even if I’m across the world, I’ll always be with you.”

“Alright, alright.” a grumpy Happy snaps, pulling you away from Mark. “Enough of the lovey-dovey chat. Get on the plane, Mark. Doctor Strange is waiting for you at the headquarters.”

You step aside to let Mark’s parents share their heartfelt goodbyes. The three of you watch as Mark and Happy walk towards the private jet, the former dragging a large suitcase behind. Before he goes up the stairs, Mark glances back, sending you a loving smile. You wave in response, and he giddily boards the plane.

Mark Lee was torn between his two identities, but he’s now actively pursuing one. To say you’re happy would be an overstatement, but you’re satisfied seeing the joy Mark finds in his alter ego. He’s your boyfriend, and no matter the path he chooses to take, you’re willing to support him with your whole heart.

You’re ushered to a safe zone as the jet revs its engine, preparing for take off. A melancholic smile graces your lips. Wherever you are, wherever Mark is, he will always be with you, and you with him.

After all, he’s marked in your heart.

tag list | @jaemsslut4 @chitaphrrrr @pastel-boy-sungjae @jenojaeminrenjun @wh0reforlevi @iluvj4sung @celamoon @budibbly @marksquare

#nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #superm #mark #mark lee #minhyung #lee minhyung #x reader #oneshot #imagines #scenarios #au #ff #fanfic #fluff #smut #angst

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luminari-mc · 3 years

Text

Eternal Memento

☆ Mammon's Birthday Special ☆

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 1653

Summary: You surprise Mammon with a special and personal gift on a very special day.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Writing angst for Mammon is nice... but fluff and love is definitely better. I wanted to write something cute for our first man's important day, because he deserves it. Happy birthday, Mammon!

______________________________________________________

Five minutes left til the clock struck midnight. At this hour, all of the occupants of the House of Lamentation were expected to be in their rooms for the night- such were the rules which had been implemented by Lucifer for all who lived under these roofs, no matter whether they were demons, or human.

But tonight, you had decided to break that rule. After sneakily escaping the confines of your bedroom, you had managed to make your way upstairs, unbeknownst to the first-born, or any of the other demon brothers for that matter. How you hadn't encountered Beel on his usual night crusades to the kitchen, or walked on Levi taking advantage of the night to leave his room, was beyond you. But you couldn't be more thankful for it. Everything was going according to plan, and you weren't about to let anything or anyone ruin it.

You had arrived at your destination a couple minutes earlier, bouncing with impatience on your feet the more you kept looking at the minutes changing on the screen of your phone. The excitement overtaking you began to brighten your face with a smile, your eyes switching from the light under Mammon's door in front of you, to the darkness of the hallway you were standing in. With only a couple of minutes left to wait, the last thing you wanted was to be interrupted!

But just as a faint light appeared to grow closer and closer towards you from the shadows, your body instinctively tensed up. You kept your smile intact and your mouth shut, until the footsteps of Lucifer, holding a candle in his hand, came to a complete stop upon noticing your presence in the hallway. Just as he was about to reprimand you from breaking curfew, you immediately placed a finger upon your lips, a request the demon seemingly took note of as he simply arched an eyebrow at you. With a grin, you proudly showed him the small, gift-wrapped item in your hand. The wrapping, gold and sparkly, was kept into place by a thin ribbon of the same color

Lucifer's expression changed into one of content as his features relaxed. He nodded understandingly, before starting to walk again, exchanging hushed words of "Do not be loud. I'll let this one slide exceptionally." as he passed by you, before disappearing within the dark of the hallway once again.

Internally, you were grateful. Externally, you sighed out of relief.

Pressing the gift against your chest, you checked your phone once again. 10 seconds left. Your heart suddenly started beating like a hammer within you, and your thoughts were going at a hundred miles per hour. Nothing could ruin your plan now. Mammon was in his room, awake- you were in front of his door, with your gift, and you could only grow more and more excited for him to see it.

Downstairs, the clock echoed loudly. That was it. You advanced your hand towards the handle, stars practically shining in your eyes. Nobody could stop you now-

"IT'S MY--" The door opened without warning, revealing a grinning demon who, with his eyes closed in happiness, hadn't noticed you yet in front of him. Your body moved on instinct.

"Mammon!" You exclaimed, a smile wide on your face as you threw yourself towards him, your arms quickly locking themselves around his neck. Surprised to hear your voice, and even more to feel your body against him without warning, Mammon almost stumbled backwards, pulling you inside alongside him.

"Wh-Whaaat!? Huh- MC?! W-What are you doing here?!" The demon's cheeks burned red upon opening his eyes. "You can't just barge in my face like that! Seriously, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Chuckling at his reaction, you reached for the door behind you to close it with your foot. Somewhere within the House of Lamentation, Lucifer groaned.

"I wanted to surprise you! Seems like it worked like a charm." Your teasing voice only increased the color of his cheeks even more, as a pout began to form upon his lips.

"S-Seriously, you can't just do that out of nowhere! At least learn to knock, will ya?" His unwavering gaze on you betrayed his frustrated tone. "Whatcha doin' here anyway? Aren't'cha supposed to be asleep?"

"And miss being the first to celebrate the special day of my favorite demon? No way."

Just as you let go of him, his expression softened at the reason of your presence in his room. "O-Oh... is that why you're here?"

You nodded, before taking his hand to guide him towards his couch. "I really wanted for the both of us to spend the entire day together, starting from the very first minute. Is that okay with you?" Despite your question, you knew Mammon enough to easily guess his answer.

"The- the entire day?" His eyes opened wider as he let you pull him at the center of the room, the words failing him. "Like- you mean- as in 24 hours together? J-Just you and me? You're serious?"

"Well, as far as I recall, there are still 24 hours within a day, right?" You teased before sitting on the couch and patting the seat next to you. "Only if you want to, though."

"Wh- really, I mean..." Mammon sat himself onto the couch slowly, his eyes drifting away from you. "If-If you really want it that much, I guess we could... spend the day together..."

You smiled at his reaction. So predictable. So adorable.

"Huh," he turned his face back towards you, or more precisely, towards the object you had placed in your lap, "What's that thing here? Is that...?"

You hummed, scooting closer to him so that your arms would touch. "Your gift for this year. I don't know if it's going to be enough, but I really wanted to give you something personal this time..."

You placed the wrapped-up gift in his hands. "I still hope you'll like it."

Mammon brought the gift closer to him as if to inspect it, the gold of the wrapping reflecting in his eyes. His thumb traced the rectangle shape of the item hidden within it, a cheap attempt at guessing what the gift was before even opening it. Sensing you intently staring at him though, the demon decided to properly discover his present by tearing the paper in half. He continued to rip pieces of it away, until the item was entirely uncovered in his hand.

"It's..." Mammon's mouth hung open, his eyes fixated on the framed picture he was holding. You placed your cheek against his shoulder.

"It's the first picture we took together. Well, more like the first one where our smiles were genuine." You wrapped your arm around his. "We weren't really comfortable around one another when we first met, huh? I mean, with me suddenly being pulled into a place I didn't even know existed, and you having to babysit me without even being able to say a word against it... It would be hard on anyone's nerves."

Mammon slid his arm behind your back as you continued. "Then one day, not long after we made our pact, we made a detour by the city and grabbed ice creams on our way home. I remember you wanted to brag about having finished classes early to the others, so you asked me to take a picture of us to post it on Devilgram later. So we raised our treats, smiled all teeth out, and it was done. Except that, in the end..."

"We forgot about posting it." Mammon said, his brow furrowing on his forehead. "I-I didn't know you had kept it, though."

"Well, there was something about it that made me just... want to keep it. I only thought about it later on during the day, but I realized there was something special about that picture." You tilted your head to look at him. "Want to know what it is?"

Wordless, or probably just too overwhelmed by the memories resurfacing in his mind, Mammon nodded. You put your finger next to his smiling face in the picture.

"Even after we took the picture, you kept on smiling." Your cheeks turned pink at the thought. "You kept on talking to me, and never once you stopped grinning. It was kind of contagious, I'm pretty sure I couldn't stop smiling too because of you. But it was nice. That was the first time where I thought that... maybe living with you guys might not be so bad."

Mammon examined the expressions on your framed past-selves. The picture looked like any other you two would take nowadays; smiling, enjoying the moment and the presence of one another. Except that, at the time, he was still denying his feelings, through and through. And yet in this picture, you had barely known each other for a couple of days, and you were smiling with the same intensity as you do to this day.

I really fell for you pretty quickly, huh...

"I feel kind of bad for forgetting about this." He admits, blushing. "But... I really like it. Thanks, MC. I'll treasure it forever."

Here were the words you were waiting for.

You opened your arms to invite him for a hug, a request which Mammon accepted on the spot as he leaned forward to embrace you, the framed picture still in his hand behind your back.

"So, I really got ya all to myself today?" He grinned. "Damn, it hasn't even been 20 minutes and this already feels like the best day ever."

You leaned yourself away before cupping his cheeks in your hands, your lips pressing against his in a way that only made him want even more. As Mammon placed down the picture on the glass table, and pulled you onto his lap, your thumb caressed his cheek affectionately.

"Happy birthday, my first man. Both in pact, and in smiles."

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ssurveycorpss · 3 years

Text

to the dearest anon who requested 3 letters for eren before i was struck down from my blog like hephaestus was struck down from olympus: i dont remember exactly which ones they were? but i'm pretty sure it was these three. im so sorry anonnie. (if youre seeing this, send an ask confirming/correcting me pls <3 i wanna make sure i got your request correct!) also this is the last one i received so if you requested something please send it over this way instead of my old blog.

hc game

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is so very affectionate. Eren feels like he needs to constantly remind you he loves you. It makes him feel safe and comforted, plus Eren has like... an excess of love for you that he needs to get out and the easiest way to let it out is by hugging and kissing you. Kinda like a dog when they run around because they haven't been walked.

Everyone knows you two are together because he is no stranger to PDA. The only people he kinda tones it down in front of is Mikasa, Historia, and maybe Annie (this annoys Armin to no end, he has to watch Eren snuggle you and do all this embarrassing stuff and the most Mikasa has to see is hand holding). He still tells every story of his love life to Historia though, and in exchange he has to listen to her talk about how cute Ymir is.

Honestly his affection levels start to go down the longer he knows you because he learns to become more subtle. Like when you first start dating he's throwing an arm around your waist and clinging to you like a koala while you study so you can pay attention to him (except he's not a koala he's a 6 foot something ripped dude and he's heavy!!!! And annoying!!! Bro chill!!!!!) but once you guys have been dating for a while he can just lay his head in your lap or be near you while you study in silence. He still loves you he's just less loud about his affection, more subtle and personal.

Eren likes routines and normalcy in his relationships. If you guys always hold hands to go to the dining hall for lunch, he expects you two to do that. If you forget he is freaking out. Kinda like how no matter how much he loves Jean he acts like he doesn't. The guy is like a brother to him but he feels like it's weird for them to stop bickering.

Also has a tendency to brag about you. Social media posts, casual conversation, showing someone something on his phone and making sure to unlock it in front of them so they can see a cute photo of you two, bringing up "my partner did-" in every conversation. Lowkey annoying but at the same time everyone finds it cute.

Kinda off topic but he is so annoying about you not saying I love you back or calling him like bro or anything that doesn't denote affection. If he says I love you and you don't say I love you back he will act like you stabbed him right there. If you call him bro or dude (he makes an exception sometimes if you kiss him after you say it because that is not like... bro, bro, that's like, bro [romantically]) he will not respond. He is your lover! Treat him as such. It also helps him stay grounded in the fact that you love him back.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Always there for you, no matter what you need. Selfless in his own very Eren way, which usually includes excessive amounts of impulsiveness and stupidity.

"You like so and so? Well why haven't you told them? I'll tell them, they like you back I just know it!"

You have to rush to get him to stop because he does not think before he acts. He tends to think in the long term which can be really irritating, but it's also quite adorable and honestly 99.9% of the time it works out, disregarding a couple bumps in the road.

Will listen to you talk about things you like even if he doesn't care for them. He finds it kind of his duty.

Good at keeping promises, he just takes a long time to do them. If he promises you french fries you'll get them it'll just be like 3 years later.

If you are Eren's friend and you like him don't even try to like... guess if he likes you back because he does not change at all when he starts to crush on someone. If you relationship starts off as flirty and he decides he doesn't really like you as much as he thought, he still flirts with you, it's just joke flirting now. If you guys start off as normal friends and he falls for you, he'll never try to flirt with you or anything. His life is already hectic enough, so he relies on his friendships and relationships for a sense of serenity. Despite this he has a tendency to fall for his friends so he's got it real rough.

Will never confess to you if you guys have a friends to lovers sort of arc. You've got to bear that burden. He can't even imagine losing you or making things awkward between him.

Enemies to lovers with Eren Jaeger means he will call you an idiot on your wedding day and then say I do 4 seconds later.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

god this is my shit

I feel like I'm just a broken record at this point but he's so passionate in his kisses. Like his love for you is all flowing out at once and he cannot stop it.

Kinda like fireworks. Fast and loud and colorful and one after another.

Teeth clacking. If you wear glasses they're gonna poke him. Awkward nose bumping that he laughs about before kissing you on the nose to make it all better.

He's kinda a rough kisser but it feels anything but rough. Like he's not particularly gentle with you or anything but it doesn't hurt at all it's just a lot all at once. Also he's a biter. They're not hard or painful bites but like he will chomp you on the neck while kissing you.

Likes neck kisses, literally just sit in his lap and let him nibble and kiss your neck while he hugs you really tight and his day is complete. Also likes kissing you on the lips but that's just a given. Those two are his go-to spots but honestly he will kiss you anywhere. Your chest, forehead, cheeks, thighs, stomach, whatever. He's not picky.

Likes to lay his head between your thighs and lean over and kiss them or blow raspberries on them.

Often says "I just wanna kiss you right now." or "Kiss me, dummy." or "Gimme kith." So so kissstarved help the poor man.

When you first start dating he tries to like plan out how to have an amazing first kiss with you and then it's just like completely ruined by his adrenaline and impulsivity. Like he was gonna take you out for dinner, walk you by the pier, kiss you by the moonlight, yada, yada, yada, but actually he just like got really excited at winning in an arcade game and went for it.

When he forgets to shave his stubble is so scratchy but unless you seriously get annoyed with him he will not stop kissing you just to shave you just have to deal with it. The more you complain the more he will bother you with it. He tends to stay clean shaven though.

Even as he grows "less affectionate" the longer you guys are together he will still take solace in kisses, they just become a bit slower and longer. He still has his moments of his inner fire sign coming out to just smother you but he's mellowed out quite a bit as you guys continue to be together.

EREN JUST REALLY LIKES KISSES OKAY I REST MY CASE

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #eren yaeger x reader #eren headcanons #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager fluff #eren x gender neutral reader #snk x reader #snk x you #snk x y/n #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x y/n #aot x you #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x you #shingeki no kyojin x you

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papercupids · 3 years

Text

past the happily ever after - wong kunhang

pairing - wong kunhang x reader

genre - post breakup!au; angst; music producer! hendery;

summary - bumping into your ex reopens some unhealed wounds.

word count - 2k

warnings - none that i could point out

as you waited for the employee to wash his hands and get back to you to take your order, you glance around the shop a little more, quaint little wooden tables are lined up messily and on top of them, matching brown stands which are home to almost 5 spoons, forks and knives respectively per table. The sunlight coming in abundance right in to illuminate every nook and cranny of the corner cafe.

It’s not too crowded here, maybe because 3:00 pm is not exactly the definition of a rush hour.

the bells of the coffee shop rang and scanning the whole room, just to feed your curiosity more, you turned back. And when you do, you really wish you hadn’t, because just in the span of a mere second, your heart is ripped out of the place its caged in between your lungs because all of the time you’ve spent thinking about this moment did not prepare you for when it’s really happening. You turn back quickly, after freezing in your place when you first see him, and you’re scared that anyone who looks at you right now, including him, can see right through you and feel the trembling in your knees. But more than fear and awkwardness it was a simple debate of feelings of love and hate both that made you freeze right now.

Countless accusations, numerous insults, you had so many questions for him, so many secrets to spill, it had come to an extent where you would imagine him sitting next to you jst to calm your overwhelmedness.

But you had later come to a conclusion. If your love meant nothing to him, neither will your hate.

And hendery was just as shook as he spotted you and your face registered itself into his brain.

the smell of pancakes, the small noise of it crackling on the pan, the sun pouring in just like in the cafe, but a little dimmer, the morning version of it. from the small windows of your apartment, soft music playing at a low volume and you’re humming along to it.

“y/n,” he calls out and that’s your cue to know he’s already up and you flip the pancake and walk over to him still lying in bed, adoring the rising sun from his position on the bed.

“Why did you wake up so early?” He mumbles groggily. “It’s your holiday today, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you make your way back to the kitchen, “i just had a craving,” the pancake is perfectly golden when you take it out and place the batter for the next one.

A few moments later you hear the shuffling of feet before a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a face nuzzles itself in your neck.

“goodmorning, dery.”

“Mmh,” he inhales your scent as if it was the very oxygen he breathes, and when he does exhale it tingles on your neck.

Turning off the stove, you turn to him and catch his lips in a slow and chaste ‘good morning, honey’ and ‘i want this forever’ kiss.

“Hey, y/n,” hendery currently has his hands in his pockets and you can hear the awkwardness in his voice, someone who was ever so frank and comfortable with you. You can swear this guy grows more beautiful each time you see him. The last was almost a fat six months later after you broke up with him, on an instagram story of a mutual friend of you both. You muted his story after that and it took you two weeks to stop listening to taylor swift after that. And now, it’s two years later but you still love this man as much as you did the first time you ever said it to him.

“hendery, hey, didn’t expect to run into you,” you pray that he can’t feel the beating of your heart which in your opinion is vibrating enough for your body to shake visibly.

“Yeah, me neither, how are you though? Long time no see,”

“Yeeah, i’m fine, just a little over the place.”

“Oh, well.”

The employee behind you both could literally feel the tension between you both from where he was standing. Either way, he needed to get over both of your orders before any one of you messed it up and made the other leave. It could strongly affect the revenue of this small cafe.

“Miss, what would you like to order?” He calls out to you, causing you to turn.

“Oh, yeah. A caramel macchiato, please.”

“And, you, sir?”

“I’ll have an Americano, thanks.”

“So it’s a combined order?”

And the next few seconds is just you and hendery awkwardly communicating through your eyes asking if the other’s okay with having coffee together and strangely enough even against your best interests, you both are.

“Okay, i’ll have it on your table in a few,” and the man disappears behind the curtain, quite proud of himself. If this one couple made it together, if they were broken up right now, their kids would hear of this cafe. He giggled and went on with his work.

As for you, it was not at all like the time you had once imagined in the shower how meeting hendery would be like. There were no slaps, no “fuck you’s” and absolutely no drama unlike how you imagined it in the shower.

You sat opposite on one of the round tables, besides the glass panel.

“So how have you been?”

“Oh, good. Just finished an album I was working on, a week ago. And damn, I'm tired.”

“Oh,”

the music blasted through your ear and you hit the lower volume button as you rolled your eyes at hendery, if he continued to keep the volume this much, he’d end up losing his hearing, for sure. You try to tell him that, which comes across more as a shout than a normal tone to him because of your inability to listen to your own voice above the song. He nods carelessly, he’s just concentrated on your expressions as you listen to the track.

but it's just the way it was, life wasn’t always a happy ending, it was rough without any mercy. and you weren’t a fictional character, neither was this a fairytale.

You’re in his lab today, chocolate wrappers, guitar, papers here and there, the nightlife hours starting outside. And you are both sitting opposite each other, you’re sitting on hendery’s usual seat, a comfortable huge chair you loved to dominate whenever you’d drop by here and he’s sitting on a random stool that was lying outside, not complaining a bit.

“So, um,” you remove the headphones a few minutes later. And hendery listens in rapt attention, something you wished he did when you asked him to choose which dress he liked better on you,

“I hate to tell you this, hendery,” his expressions tighten as he tenses his jaw, “but, babe, you’ve nailed it this time around too!!!” You scream and envelope him in a hug.

And poor hendery is still shocked, but he hugs back as it soaks in his mind.

“This song is gonna be the shit people hear on loops, hendery, loops! This is a bop,” he pulls away.

“You really think so?” You nod your head.

He hugs you again, more tightly, “i love you,”

“So,” he drums his finger on the table after a long few minutes of awkward silence. The order still hasn't come. And you both have been looking at the other tables, there weren’t many people here.

“How’s life been for you, aside from your profession?” he asks.

“I don’t think I quite gave it much time, don’t regret it though, what about you?” your profession, for you, had been something of a coping mechanism in the past few years, it had been something you had given your everything to, and strangely enough it hadn’t packed up its bags one day and said, ‘we aren’t working anymore,’ and left.

“Oh yeah, no, i did try to make it work with someone, it’s going good for now.”

The last nail in your coffin. It takes up your entire energy to not flip the table over him and run away from not only the city, but the country and never leave a chance to ever bump into him again, because you see you did try to forget him.

But it never happened. It was just automatically that your hand reached over to the other pillow in your bed to ruffle hendery’s hair to wake him up to only be met with the cold side of the bed, and to take out two cups of ramen, only to quickly keep it back inside and to pretend it never happened.

“That’s nice,”

And thankfully, the cafe guy is coming over with your drinks.

And you sip on your macchiato as it gets awkward again. You can’t bear to look him in the eyes, no. It just cracks your very soul and you suddenly get annoyed with the fact that if he wanted he would have kept the girlfriend thing to himself, but he had to put it all in your face.

But your thoughts wander furthermore after this, does she get to listen to his songs firsthand? Does she get to eat the food he makes? gets to ruffle his hair first thing in the morning? gets to wrap her arms around him and feel his heartbeat?

hendery slammed his hands on the steering wheel. He had fucked up. Big time. Plus the traffic wasn’t budging. He rested his head in his hands. The cars honked occasionally and the city lights hurt his eyes, an upbeat song was playing over the radio in a low volume and the car was warmer than the outside.

This was the third time in a row he’s done this. And he could feel the guilt build up in him, he wasn’t worried about your reaction to this.

You’d kiss him, tell him to not worry about it and go to sleep as it was probably late and he would be tired.

He was scared that this was gonna keep happening and he’s gonna wake up without you instead of you sobbing softly out in the living room. He was afraid he had messed you up too much. And what for?

The traffic clears as he presses the accelerator and lets go as fast as he can.

And back home you’re not disappointed, you’re just tired. You weren’t upset that hendery hadn’t showed up, but he hadn’t even texted you, surely it would take just a second.

But it was okay, he had work. It was important. You sighed as you slipped into your pyjamas and moved to the sofa to watch something.

And you hear the key turning then, signalling hendery was home, you stand up to greet him and as soon as he’s visible, a sympathetic look is plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry….” you hug him before he can complete and he hugs back with equal force.

“‘S alright, hendery, it’s fine.” And you rub his back.

And suddenly you hear a sobbing sound from him. A long and choked up noise and you pull away to get a good look on his face.

“dery?” You cup his face, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“Oh, babe, i’m not going anywhere.” You crawl close to him and wrap your arms around him. “I’m gonna be right here hendery, and things like these happen all the time, but that doesn’t change the fact that i love you, okay? I’m gonna stay. I’m gonna be with you as long as you want me to.”

“I messed up, I mess up all the time, why are you even here?” He’s sitting down now, crying in his hands.

He nods as his sniffles fade away slowly and you’re both just sitting on the floor, holding each other, knowing no one’s gonna go away.

“And, um, y/n, i have to tell you something.” He finally speaks up. His body language tells you it’s been what he’s wanting to tell you since you met at the counter and you nod at him to continue.

“I wanted to apologise.”

You almost spit your drink.

“Why?” Even though you know the answer, you want him to confess his sins. Confess the fact that he threw a forever away in a matter of a moment, that he didn’t listen to what you had to say.

“I’m sorry for what I did, I truly and genuinely loved you and I made a huge mistake. Everyday I think about what could’ve been if I didn’t do what I did.”

loved.

But that made the two of you if he thought about it. It was okay now, now that you met him, now that he apologised to you, know that you’ll say “it’s okay,” to him, piece by piece it’ll start to get better. You believed it.

You’ll still love wong kunhang, but a little less maybe.

the silence in your home is biting. You can hear the low whirring of the air conditioner and the tick tocking of the clock. The text bell breaks the silence though, for a second, but it does.

“Coming home, give me 5 minutes.”

hendery wasn’t late. He just hadn’t came home for the entirety of last week. He has to work on this new album, he’d said to you when you called him this morning. Normally he had told you not to call him when he was working since it broke his link of working but it was out of hand now.

And he told you he’d come home today and talk.

You sighed as the lock clicked, and he closed the door behind him.

He throws a small smile at you, “y/n,” and he knows this is going to be hard when you don’t return it.

He sits beside you as you try your best to not let the tears fall, “what?”

“I’m sorry but this isn’t the way i want to see you, i want you to be happy-“

“Well, then damn, dery, keep me happy!”

“Will you let me complete?” You glare at him as you blink more to keep the tears at bay.

“Look, I realised that i want to see you happy, but i’m just simply, i can’t. So,” he takes your hand and grazes it with his own.

“So, i’m letting you go, y/n,”

“What the actual fuck ‘letting me go’?” Now there's no meaning in trying to keep the tears hidden, they come as fast as you stop trying to hide them.

“The thing is hendery, if you would’ve been sorry right now, i would have honestly had no problems in being here again and to end up in this same situation, i would go through it all again, but the fact that you just want back away is so disgusting,”

“Sorry would have meant that i would no longer do it again, y/n, and you know my work, I can’t keep promises,”

“So that’s it? We’re finishing this conversation and you’re taking out all the shirts from our wardrobe?”

His silence is a reply enough, and you can’t do anything but sit there as quietly as you shushing yourself and hoping this was someone else in min hendery's body and that tomorrow you’d wake up to him apologising and explaining how his body got swapped with someone else.

But it never did happen

“It’s okay, hendery. You did what was best for both of us,” you take a sip from your drink. “I couldn’t see it then, but I do see it now,”

“You do?” He raises his eyebrows,

“Yes,” you nod gently.

And his phone rings. “Excuse me, i gotta take this,”

And he’s barely a few steps away from the table when he receives the call and says, “yes, babe, i’m coming i just met an old friend.”

And you smile. It was okay. You’ll probably cry yourself to sleep tonight but tomorrow will be better, and you will be better again.

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auramindedd · 3 years

Text

Fixed? Never - SMAU*

Part 3

CorpseHusband x FemReader

Warnings: cussing

A/N: again, any posts with a “ * ” attached to “smau” has writing in it. imma focus A LOT more on just the social media n message perspective, but y/n n corpse meet in this part soooo i had to add some writing :) something else b4 i forget; i’m updating my masterlist and changing it into a directory post that way you guys can also request through a google form! i’ll have requests open at all times unless i get too stressed out or if they overfill. due to me changing my masterlist, there’s gonna be about 6 posts i think. also,, thank you guys so much for 600 followers! i’ve been hitting a bunch of milestones and haven’t been remembering to say thank you, but just know that i appreciate every single one of you... also i love reading y’all’s comments 😭

🤍 directory

🕊 previous

☁️ next

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You make sure you’re set up before 6 PM, which was probably a mistake. You can’t sit still, you’re starting to get nervous, and you kind of just want to run away to McDonald’s.

Sure, you know Ludwig, Dream, and Rae, but it feels like you’re at school all over again. That anxious feeling of having to be with people while your best friends aren’t around.

You’re leg is bouncing, your nails are tapping on your desk, and you can’t stop running your hand through your hair. It probably looks like a fucking bird nest by now.

You start streaming, deciding that maybe talking to your supporters will make things a bit better.

“Hey, loves,” You greet in a not so Y/N-fashioned way. Of course, the chat catches on, and you’re being called out for it. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that your supporters know how you usually are.

@user: What happened to, “Hey, bitches!”

@user: Ou, someone is nervous.

Yeah, they obviously know you very well.

“Alright, let’s start over.” You clear your throat for dramatic effect because, well, when are you not dramatic? “Hey, bitches!” Yup, even you know that just feels right.

After a while of talking to your supporters, Rae sends you the Discord invite and the Among Us code. You join, feeling your nerves start to come back.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims in excitement when she sees you’ve joined the Among Us lobby.

“Hi,” You say, shyness lacing your voice.

“Oh my God! The cutest voice.” Jack says. Wow, what a compliment coming from the Jack_Septic_Eye.

You take time to introduce yourself to everyone, trying to calm your nerves.

“Are we gonna start?” Ludwig’s impatient ass asks.

“We’re waiting for Corpse.” Rae explains.

Shit, another person you have to introduce yourself to?

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets quickly, very obviously racing to be the first to say hi to Corpse.

“Hey, Sykkuno,” Corpse chuckles, and woah, the last thing you expected. You can’t help but be surprised, and you know it’s showing on your face. Why? Because your supporters are teasing you in the chat.

“Corpse,” Rae says in a sing-songy tone. “This is Y/N.” And your heart drops to your fucking stomach. Every single time it happens when you have to meet someone, but now your heart is beating even faster because you’re obviously the only one who hasn’t met Corpse. They’re all expecting a reaction out of you...

“Hey, Y/N.” His deep, husky voice says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it helps ease your nerves.

“Hi,” You greet, shyness still lacing your voice.

Corpse chuckles, “So cute.” Now you’re blushing. Great...

Rae starts the game, saving you before the others can start teasing you.

Crewmate.

You’ve only played Among Us once, in a public server with Dream, George, Karl, and Alex, and then you got bullied for not knowing what the fuck to do.

To say the least, you’re pretty glad to be Crewmate and not Impostor.

“Y/N!” Jack shouts, walking up to you. You slightly jump, forgetting they’re playing with Proximity Chat.

“Jack!” You shout back, letting his astronaut catch up to you.

“We were expecting a reaction.” He says, and of course they were.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I feel like he hears it a lot, don’t want to add on to the list of Things People Say To Him Everyday.”

“Yeah, he’s probably very grateful for that.”

“Grateful for what?” Charlie walks up to you two.

“Nothing,” Jack drawls. You’ve just met Charlie, but you know that he’d tease both you and Corpse about one another’s voices.

“Oh, I know!” Charlie exclaims, but before he can say what he knows-

“Okayyy! That’s enough interaction with Charlie for today.” Jack says, and you take that as a, ‘Walk the fuck away now, Y/N!’

You walk around, trying your best to finish tasks, but when it comes to the card swipe in Admin, you want to quit life as a whole.

“Ugh, I fucking quit.” You groan, slamming your hands on your desk. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes through on your headphones.

“Having trouble?” Corpse teases.

“Yeah. I wanna rip every strand of my fucking hair out.”

“Swipe it slower.” And with that, you try again. Voila! Just like magic.

“Well if I would’ve fucking known.” You groan, Corpse chuckling.

“Here, I can help you with the game.”

“Yes, please, I don’t know shit about it.”

“You know, you cuss a lot for having such a sweet, innocent, and cute voice.” Corpse laughs.

“Yeah,” You drawl. “I know, bad fucking habit.” You slap your hand over your mouth. How does someone cuss in every sentence? Get a filter, damn.

Corpse walks around with you as you both finish tasks, explaining how the game works, and giving you tips for when you do end up being an Impostor.

Honestly, you could listen to his voice all day. He’s also really sweet.

“What are you two up to?” Brooke asks, doing tasks in Electrical with you two. Corpse told you to make sure you’re always aware of your surroundings when you’re in Electrical. So, naturally, you’re freaking out, but silently and internally.

“Brooke,” Corpse warns. He doesn’t even have time to finish his warning. Brooke kills him, his body flopping over, the one bone sticking out from the top of his body. Your mouth falls open.

“Hey, Y/N. Let’s be besties!” You don’t know what to do, but ay, #girlsupportinggirls, right? So, you walk with her. She helps you along the way, also telling you tips on the game, explaining how everything works. Then, after about a minute, a whole 60 seconds, Corpse’s body is reported.

“Why Corpse? Such an innocent man with a beautiful voice.” Lud fake cries.

“Get over it,” Brooke says.

“It’s Brooke! Brooke’s an Impostor!” Lud shouts.

“What? No! I was with Y/N for a lot of this round.” Brooke defends herself, and oh fuck, who the fuck do you defend? You’ve just met both of them, one of them will possibly hate you forever.

“Y/N?” Sykkuno grabs your attention, snapping you out of your thinking.

“Yeah, she was. She wouldn’t have had time to kill Corpse. Where was the body?” Well, there you go, potentially ruining yours and Corpse’s blooming friendship. Sad Girl Hour, type beat.

“In Electrical,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, no way she would’ve had to time to kill him.”

Nobody’s voted out. Brooke hasn’t even told you who the second Impostor is so, you don’t know if you should stay with her or not.

As you and Brooke are walking around, or skipping as she sees it, and holding hands, Dream pops out of a vent. Well, there’s Imposter two.

“Woah! Dream, way to out yourself out.” You tease, throwing your head back and laughing.

“Please, you’ve been with Brooke the whole time. Don’t say anything.” Dream begs, making you and Brooke giggle.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” He starts walking away from you guys, but not without finishing his sentence that you thought was already finished. “Cutie.” And there, finished.

Fucking finished! Tweedle-dee, tweedle dum! Whoopty-fucking-do! Fan-fucking-tastic! A-fucking-mazing!

And of course you’re blushing for the whole 80,000+ people watching to tease you about.

“Oh my God!” Brooke squeals. “What was that?!”

“I’ll explain later,”

•*•*•*•*•

“Y/N, how could you?” Corpse says, offended.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do.”

“She’s my enemy, Y/N. We were supposed to stick together. I told you some tips and tricks, explained how to be a badass Impostor, everything!” Wow, he’s a good fucking actor.

“I can very well do the same thing, bitch.” Brooke spits, all in a playful manner - you hope...

“Not better than me, bitch.” Corpse retorts, his astronaut getting closer.

•*•*•*•*•

Imposter.

With Corpse.

Great.

Your enemy. Or as he put it, “Enemy who he can maybe, and most likely, will become friends with in the near future.”

“Follow,” He says, and even though he’s your enemy, you do.

“I gotta do my own thing.”

“You don’t know how to do shit.” Corpse scoffs.

“Okay then, what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Double kills, all the way, but only when we meet up with each other. So, right now, we’ll both go our own ways, but when we see each other again, we’ll walk to a pair and do a double kill if we can.” Corpse explains.

“Brooke told me not to do double kills often. It won’t help get through a game.”

Corpse snorts, “Brooke doesn’t know dog shit about this game.”

“Fine,” You groan, going along with it only because you don’t know dog shit about the game either.

As Corpse explained, you two do double kills every time you meet up. You two managed to get double kills where people rarely go - Shields, Comms, and the top of Cafeteria.

After killing Rae and Sykkuno, the game ends. You made sure to leave Brooke and Dream alive.

“Period, we did that!” You exclaim, everyone else groaning and complaining about how you two should never be an Impostor duo again. “But I still fucking hate you because you hate me!”

“Exactly!” Corpse retorts in the same tone as you.

•*•*•*•*•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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lovely-ateez · 3 years

Text

Broken Strings~

ꕥPosted: 7/20/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, College!au, Rockstar!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Yunho

ꕥWord Count: 10k+

ꕥWarnings (please read all!!): Yunho’s ex is an absolute asshat, death threats towards both Yunho and reader, mention of knives used as weapons, San is a bisexual king (happy late pride month), unprotected pool sex/public sex (no one is around but I guess it still counts), masturbation (f), foul language, mentions of alcohol intake, reader is mentioned to have dark brown eyes several times which you can just ignore if you have different colored eyes ofc, mentions of a restraining order against an ex, please let me know if I missed something!!

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay @nevieatiny

ꕥA/N: The song lyrics are ones that I wrote myself specifically for this au and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous about posting it. I know there isn’t any tune or anything, but hopefully it sounds like a real song someone might sing. Also I’m not writing angst for a while after this holy shit I’ve been crying too much over this I’m emotional okay

“Date night! Date night! Date night!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s arm, bouncing on my toes.

Yunho raised a hand to cover his ear, scrunching his face, “Babe, I love you, but I think you’ve deafened me.”

I pouted at his tone and crossed my arms, “You’re such a grump.”

“Oh whatever.” He smiled, “You ready?”

I smiled at him and nodded.

Ever since his band, Sidekick Heart, began to pick up traction, he had less free time and our full-day dates once a week soon became date nights every few weeks. Most of his time was spent writing songs, producing them, and practicing endlessly. The fact that he had a tour coming up soon just meant he had even less spare time. I was happy for him, of course, but I couldn’t hide my disappointment that he was leaving.

In middle school, he and three of his friends formed a band for fun, which they kept with all throughout high school. They got good, really good and almost right after they graduated they were signed by a label. Now, three years later, they’d already released two albums and one EP and earned enough money to make a living, which was why Yunho dropped out of college a month ago. Since he had steady career path, he saw no reason to continue and decided to focus on music. He still visited me at college whenever he got the chance, but his visits were becoming more and more sporadic.

We started dating freshman year of college. We had our difficulties as most couples do, but everyday I thanked the stars for pairing us together. I met him on the first day of French class, a day I know I could never forget, no matter how how our future played out.

I sat my backpack on the table in front of me, looking around the empty classroom. I was ten minutes early, so I wasn’t surprised about the lack of students. It was a bit unlikely for me to be so early, but I wasn’t able to sleep the night before and so I had extra time to get ready. With nothing else to do, I took out my phone, reading some missed text messages.

I heard the door open and my head tilted upwards, meeting eyes with a fluffy-haired brunet. He shyly smiled at me and I returned the gesture. The man took a seat in the front row across from me, only a few chairs in between us. I found it cute that he liked to sit in the front of the classroom, too. Very few people did. He turned away from me to place his backpack on the floor and take out a few books. I took the opportunity to look at him. He was attractive, for sure. His short sleeved solid black shirt followed his movements, tattoos peaking through his top. The shirt itself tucked was into ripped jeans, his black shoes matching the outfit, along with various accoutrements. His look was uncommon for college students, most just wore sweatpants with with a casual shirt. I thanked myself for dressing nice that day.

I tilted my head to get a better look at his side profile. He was so handsome that I seemed to forget I was staring. I couldn’t help but get caught up in him, not realizing that I was no longer being subtle.

He spoke without moving to face me, “You’re pretty cute, too.”

“I-I what?” My eyes widened, realizing I’d been caught.

He turned, a charming smile on his face, “You aren’t exactly discreet.”

I took a breath, trying to form a coherent sentence, “Well...can you blame me?”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. What’s your name?”

I hesitated before answering him, which brought a full smile to his face. He moved closer to me before holding out his hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to keep my hands steady. His hand was soft, clearly he took care of himself.

“I’m Yunho.”

I smiled, observing the way he lit up as he turned my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my skin. I felt my face heat up and averted my eyes. Yunho chuckled as he released my hand. Both of us looked up at the sound of the door opening, a group of students entered, followed by a lady who I presumed to be the teacher.

Yunho looked at me, “Meet me after class?”

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt excitement build in my stomach, wanting nothing more than for class to end as soon as possible.

The instant the teacher ended her lecture she left with the rest of the students, who were talking among themselves. My eyes flickered to Yunho to find him looking back at me, his backpack now thrown over his shoulders.

“You have any classes after this?” He asked in a nonchalant manner. Later he confessed to me that he was far more nervous than he appeared, claiming that he fell in love with me at first sight.

I finished placing my notebook in my bag, zipping it up and putting the straps over my arms, “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got World Politics in ten minutes.”

“Aww damn. I was hoping we could grab some food.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out his phone, “Maybe I could get your number instead and we could meet up later?” He wasn’t pushy or demanding, simply asking.

I nodded quickly, “I’d like that, Yunho.”

He suddenly became more shy, the tips of his ears dusting a beautiful shade of pink, “I like the way you say my name.”

I giggled, trying to hide my own shyness. I took his phone and entered my number, really hoping that he would text me. As if he read my mind, he confirmed what I was thinking.

“I’ll text you,” He looked at me with sparkling eyes before shaking his head, like he was pulled back to reality, “Oh uh...you should probably get to class.“ He raised a hand, somewhat awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah I probably should. I’ll see you around?”

He smiled, “I’ll see ya.”

It wasn’t long before he texted me, and it made my heart flutter that he kept his word. A day later we met up, grabbing ice cream and getting to know each other. He was a dance major and had to practically beg his parents to let him pursue dance. In return they said he had to repay them with getting straight A’s. He had one younger brother who was possibly the biggest baseball fan to ever exist, he roomed with three men he’d been friends with since kindergarten, and he absolutely adored my brown eyes.

“They’re just beautiful.” Yunho gushed, “Both times I’ve seen you they just sparkle and shine like they’ve got their own little galaxies in them. I’ve never seen anyone with such genuine, kind eyes.”

I let out a girly laugh at the compliment and covered my mouth with a hand, “You’re really trying to flatter me, aren’t you?”

“Depends. Is it working?” He laughed as he propped his head on one of his hands, leaning closer to me in the booth we were sitting in. We’d finished our ice cream long ago, now shamelessly flirting and getting lost in each other.

“It might be.”

“Well I do mean it. I’m not only trying to flatter you.”

The ringing of his phone caught our attention. He smiled apologetically and reached for the device. He sighed, reading the contact name and looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry I’ve gotta take this. It’s one of my roommates and it’s entirely possible they’ve set the house on fire.”

I laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.”

Yunho excused himself as he answered the call, walking outside. I took a look around the shop we were in, smiling at all the decorations when I noticed a woman sitting alone, eating ice cream and staring at me. Her eyes were such an ice blue that they made her intimidating, to say the least. I wasn’t too surprised, I’d dressed nice and all throughout the day I’d been getting looks. Taking it as a compliment I smiled at her and waited for Yunho to return.

“So good news,” He started as he sat back down in the booth, running a hand through his hair, which was way more attractive than it should’ve been, “They haven’t burnt down the apartment, but San—he’s one of my roommates—his car ran out of gas a few miles away from here so I’ve gotta go help him. Can I drive you back to your own apartment first?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to worry you.” I waved a hand, “I can have a friend pick me up.”

He nodded, “If you’re more comfortable with that, sure, but I’d rather drive you home, if that’s okay.”

I nodded, walking with him as he guided me out to his car. We had our first kiss when he dropped me off, leaving me with the promise of another date, and he delivered. Time and time again he proved he truly cared about me, which inevitably led to a relationship.

We heard a loud crashing in the basement of the house and Yunho let out a frustrated groan, “Oh god it’s happening again.”

He walked over to the basement door, opening it and sighing at the loud yells emitting from below.

“What is it this time?” Yunho shouted.

Wooyoung’s voice rung out, “San won’t let me use the controller!”

The man in front of me placed a hand over his eyes, over the situation entirely, “You’re still fighting over that game?”

“Crash Bandicoot waits for no man!”

“San let him have the controller or I’ll come down there and I’ll beat both of your asses!” Yunho shut the door, giving me a tired smile and walking back to me, “You’d think we would’ve outgrown this stage by now. I’d fire them both and hire a new bassist and drummer if I could.”

“Okay that’s an absolute lie, and you say that like you’re any better. I saw you arguing with Seonghwa over the last bag of chips yesterday.”

He pointed a finger at me, not trying to hide the smile on his face, “Okay that was absolutely valid. I bought those and they were mine.”

I smirked. “My point still stands.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, changing the subject, “How about after our date I sing you a couple of our new songs?” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing my ear, “I wrote a few about you.”

I pulled back from him, feeling warmth spread in my chest. “Really? You did?”

Yunho wrapped an arm around my waist, “How could I not? You’re always my inspiration.”

I let out a string of incoherent gibberish which prompted the most adorable eye smiles from my boyfriend. I felt too honored to put my emotions into words.

“Go on.” Yunho motioned to the front door, “Grab your purse and head out to my car. I’ll let the guys know we’re going and I’ll meet you outside.”

I gave him a salute, “You got it cap’n!”

His eyes warmed, “God, I love you.”

“I know!” I teased before I grabbed my purse and skipped out of the house. The sun would be setting soon and I admired the several hues that were painted within the sky. I sat on the hood of his car, swinging my feet as I saw him walk out of the house.

“So where exactly are we going?” I tilted my head, looking forward to his response.

“Well I’ve got a couple ideas.” He held up his long fingers and counted off on them, “We could go bowling, or we could have a late night picnic, or maybe...” He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me with a mischievous grin, “We could go swimming.”

My face lit up, “I haven’t been swimming in forever!”

“I know, that’s why I recommended it.” He laughed, “Let’s break into the swimming pool downtown. It’s definitely closed by now so we can be alone.”

I raised my brows at his words, a smile widening on my face, “Don’t we need to bring swimsuits, though?”

Yunho grinned at me and moved a hand to ruffle my hair, “Nope. We’re going without ‘em.” He lifted me off his car, “Hop in, babe.”

We approached the fence with our hands interlocked, a new message greeting us. A red and black sign with the words ‘No Trespassing’ was attached haphazardly to one of the metal wires looped through the fence surrounding the pool.

Yunho tsked, “Aw that’s cute. Like that’s gonna keep us out. This is basically our pool anyways.”

I laughed, both of us knowing full well there was no method of security beyond the sign and fence. The pool had never installed security cameras and after word spread that the owner had a fear of advancing technology, we had no worry of being caught.

He cupped his hands, holding them out for me to step on. I placed my foot on his hands as he lifted me up, helping me scale the fence. I stepped back, feeling a thrill as Yunho jumped over. It was probably the fourth or fifth time we’d done this, but each time was just as exciting. We walked over to the edge of the pool, its light blue water and the dark blue of the sunset opposing one another but making a beautiful visual.

“Alright, off we go.” Yunho’s fingers danced to the hem of my shirt, then pulling it off and ridding me of the layer of clothing. He pressed several kisses to the exposed skin, making me shiver.

Yunho then pulled back from me, slowly removing his shirt and giving me a teasing look when he caught me staring at his abs, “I look good, don’t I?”

“Shut up,” I laughed, lightly slapping his strong, tattooed arm before removing my skirt, enjoying the way my boyfriend’s eyes devoured me. I returned the action when I saw him remove his jeans, something he was clearly enjoying as well.

I turned back to the pool only to be thrown over Yunho’s shoulders. He let out a string of laughs as I struggled to get down, fearing that he would throw me into the water.

“If you throw me into the pool I’ll kill you!” I laughed, squirming on his shoulders.

“No...I would never do something like that.” I wasn’t even facing him, but I could hear the smile in his voice, which was my only indication that he was about to throw me into pool.

Before I could try to make any sort of escape, he tossed me into the water. It was cold, but less cold than I expected it to be. I coughed up a bit of water as I resurfaced and when I opened my eyes I squinted at Yunho, annoyed at how attractive he looked with the evil smirk on his face.

“You’re a jerk.” I said with no venom behind my words.

“Yeah, yeah. Brace yourself I’m coming in.”

I barely had time to move before he jumped in, his legs tucked to his chest. “Cannonball!”

I moved my hands in front of my face to block the wave of water coming my way, not feeling any surprise about my boyfriend’s childish behavior. When he resurfaced he faced me with a smile, wading towards me, embracing me in his arms, and wrapping my legs around his waist. He was so tall that he could reach the bottom of the pool without having to swim, unlike me, where I was no near reaching the bottom and needed to swim in place. With a satisfied hum he pressed several wet kisses to my neck.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by my skin.

“I love you too, babe.” I hesitated before I said my next words, still overwhelmed at how strong my feelings were for him, “You’re the love of my life.”

He pulled back with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining almost as if he was tearing up, “I knew you were the love of my life the moment I saw you. And you’re all mine.” Yunho said before he placed a delicate kiss to my lips.

“All yours, babe.”

His long fingers danced along my sides, grabbing at my hips as he began to attack my chest with kisses. I giggled as the feeling of his stubble tickled my skin.

“You know, you really ‘oughta shave before you get a full beard.”

“Why? Are you saying I wouldn’t look good with one?”

I cupped his face, “You’d look amazing with one, but I thought you didn’t like beards, babe?”

“Hate ‘em.” Yunho’s laugh echoed around us, “Really weird that men can grow them in the first place. But anyways...”

His hands made quick work of my bra, letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. I opened my mouth to scold him but before I could his mouth latched to my right nipple, sucking and nipping on it in a way that made my hands seek out his hair and tug harshly at his locks. Letting out a growl, Yunho placed one hand on the the pool wall for balance and the other on my back, drawing abstract shapes there.

Yunho moved to my other nipple, giving it the same treatment and smiling when he heard my moans. In a flash he removed his hand from my back and pressed me against the pool wall, his hand now traveling to my panties.

As he removed the final item of clothing he ran a finger over my clit, giggling to himself. I gave him a look and he clarified, “Babe, you’re wet enough to fill an entire swimming pool.”

I groaned, pressing my head into his chest, “You make that same god awful joke every time we come here.”

“And as such I couldn’t let tradition die.”

“Shut up and fuck me.” I laughed, promptly helping him out of his boxers.

He continued to tease me after, switching between playing with my clit and stretching me out with his long fingers. By the time he finally gave in, I was a whimpering, pathetic mess, begging for more.

As he aligned with my walls he looked at me with delicate eyes, “Ready, little flower?”

I nodded quickly, chanting ‘yes’ over and over. Yunho once again placed a hand on the wall and hooked one of my legs over his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper inside me. He held my hand with his free one, a simple action that always melted my heart. Despite how long we’d been together, I would always get overwhelmed by him so easily. Everything about him exuded such a strong aura that sometimes just the smallest kiss would leave me breathless. The first time we were intimate he took his hand in mine and assured me he would be gentle, and every time since he’s held my hand. It wouldn’t feel right without our hands together.

“Shit—it’s been way too long since we’ve done this.” I said as he snapped his hips into mine, quickly repeating the action.

“God I know.” He let out a pained groan at the thought of it, “Four months is gonna be fucking awful without you.”

“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got now.”

“Guess we will.”

The sounds of water splashing and the echos of our moans, a symphony I had become so familiar with, was gradually reaching its crescendo. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open but I forced them to be, needed to memorize everything about this moment. The sweat dripping down Yunho’s forehead, the tattooed muscles he was flexing, the sounds and praise he was emitting, and pleasure we were both feeling--I wouldn’t see nor feel this for the next four months.

A particular snap of his hips had me seeing stars and I called out to him, letting him know I was close. Within minutes, both of us were panting and reeling from our highs. Yunho pressed his nose against mine and both of us closed our eyes, enjoying each other’s presence.

“How come every time we come here it ends in sex?” I giggled.

He blinked and moved a strand of wet hair out of my face, “Because you’re hot and barely wearing any clothes and no one’s around.”

I blushed at his compliment, “I mean like I’m not complaining or anything.”

A cocky smile formed on Yunho’s face, “Well it certainly didn’t sound like you were a moment ago.”

“Yunho!”

The man laughed, lifting me up and spinning me around in the pool before cradling me in his arms.

“I hate to say it, but we do need to head back. The world awaits for us, I’m afraid.”

I sighed, pressing into his chest, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He stilled as he pulled me closer, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You don’t have to miss me yet, though.”

“I know.” I swallowed, wishing I had something more to say.

“Come on, then.” Yunho gave me a quick kiss, “Let’s head back.”

Yunho held the front door open for me, giving me a gentle slap on my ass when I walked through. I turned around and gave him a playfully annoyed look, which he only laughed at.

As we walked towards the living room, the sound of a random sitcom filled our ears. Six heads turned our way after hearing our footsteps. Seonghwa was resting his head against his long-time girlfriend. She was a sweet girl and complimented him more than any woman I’d seen him with. They really were soulmates, if they ever existed.

San was sitting holding hands with a man he’d been interested in for awhile. I’d often see him flirting with various men and women, but he never went any further than that, too afraid of commitment. This man; however, seemed to breaking through San’s walls. I really hoped they would work out, San deserved someone as kind as him.

Wooyoung sat across from the them, who acknowledged us first.

“Hey guys. Have fun?” Wooyoung asked, smiling at my soaked hair. He had his arm around a woman I’d never seen before and I was certain that none of us would ever see her again. He had the reputation of a playboy, and every poor woman thought they’d be the one exception, the one to make him stay. I’m sure the allure of being a drummer in a band was part of his appeal, too. Maybe one day, like San, he’d settle down.

The woman became visibly upset when Wooyoung looked me with a teasing glance. Feeling sympathy for her, I decided to do my best to calm her nerves.

I spoke for us, linking hands with my boyfriend. “Yeah, we did. I think we’re gonna go clean up though.” I looked at the woman, “I’m y/n, by the way. I’m Yunho’s girlfriend.”

She didn’t even try to hide the relief on her face. “Oh! I’m Solar. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung started, “Best girlfriend he’s ever had. Much better for him than Lucy.”

Yunho glared at the man, “Thought we agreed not to bring her up?”

Lucy, the woman Yunho dated before me, was arguably the scariest person I’d ever heard about. They dated for roughly three months before she became obsessive, to the point where Yunho had to get a restraining order against her. She threatened to hurt all of Yunho’s friends and family, all because she wanted Yunho all to herself. That was about all Yunho ever told me about her. Not that I complained. I didn’t exactly want to discuss his exes, even more so when they were that crazy.

I never told him, but I knew I saw her the first date we went on. I could see the way her piercing, ice eyes saw through me. I had no doubt it was her. I just hope I’d never see her again. Maybe now that she saw he was taken she’d leave us alone. There was an uncomfortable silence following, none of us knowing what to say until San spoke.

“You look like a wet dog, Yunho.” San joked, prompting laughter from a few of us, which seemed like more of a noise of relief rather than one of actual humor.

“Yeah, yeah.” My boyfriend relaxed his shoulders, “I think we’re gonna head in for the night so don’t make too much noise.” Waving them goodbye he caught up with me, placing a hand around my waist.

“Shower with me, doll.”

I placed a hand on his chest, “I would love to.”

I came out of the shower wearing my favorite large shirt of Yunho’s, drying my wet hair with a towel. The smell of chlorine had gone away for the most part; whatever chemicals the owner put in that pool always made the smell harder to get rid of. Only a small price to pay, I figured.

My boyfriend, who was much quicker than I was, looked up from his phone as he was splayed out across his bed. His tired eyes smiled at me while motioning me over. Yunho’s own hair was still drying and with his bare face and crooked smile, he was as handsome as he could ever be.

“Hey there.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He reached an arm out to me, pulling me against him when I took his hand, “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.” I hummed, sleepily smiling against his neck.

“Too tired to listen to the song I wrote for you?”

“No! Not at all.”

Yunho chuckled, slowly brushing my hair aside and turning his head to look at me. As he had countless times, he took a breath before he turned to me, beginning to sing.

“You give me fireworks

I’ll give you the kindest words, my dear

Your love caught me

The moment I met your eyes

And how could I not fall?

Your heart bared, no disguise”

I fought to stay awake although his melodic voice seemed to be lulling me to sleep. I felt myself losing consciousness, but managed to catch the last few lyrics he sang to me.

“Now I sunbathe in the daybreak

Half asleep, half awake

Writing this song

As I hope I’ll dream of you”

Yunho brushed his fingertips brush against my face before he spoke, “Goodnight, flower.”

I muttered some form of a “goodnight” before I felt sleep take over me, nuzzling happily against my boyfriend.

I woke up in a panic, unsure why my heart was beating so fast until I looked at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I was an hour later than I should’ve been at my job. It seemed that even unconscious my body knew I was late.

“Oh shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I spoke with wide eyes.

Jumping from Yunho’s bed I stripped myself of his shirt and quickly threw my clothes on. The body that laid beside me stirred, moving the covers aside.

“Are you leaving?” He asked sleepily, his face puffy from sleep and an adorable pout on his lips.

I frowned, “Yeah. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together, babe.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Both of us slept in.”

I tied my hair back, sighing. I was so caught up in my thoughts I almost missed Yunho’s question.

“Sorry what was that?”

He smiled, “You’re coming to our going away party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I moved back to the bed and hugged him, feeling my heart sink. I was proud of him, I really was, yet couldn’t help but feel sad that I wouldn’t see him for so long.

This was the longest tour they’d ever gone on and we’d never been apart from each other that long before. I trusted him and I was confident in our relationship, but realistically, all members of Sidekick Heart were attractive young men and a good portion of their fans were female. I was far more concerned about the female audience doing something than I was about Yunho making a move on another woman.

With one last squeeze of his shoulders I pulled back, goodbyes beginning to fall from my lips before Yunho pulled me back.

“I need a goodbye kiss.”

I pressed my lips together with a smile, gladly indulging him. Giving him one last kiss against the lips, I bid him farewell until the following day.

“So how was work?” My roommate asked as I walked in the house, propping her feet up on our couch and tossing a kernel of corn into her mouth, the lighting of the TV illuminating her blanket-covered body.

I sighed, sitting down on the floor next to her, “Other than being an hour and a half late and missing an important meeting I think it went okay. I’m just glad the day’s over.” Rubbing a hand over my face I turned to her, “What about you? How was your day?”

“Pretty damn good actually.” She smiled, removing the blanket and showing me the new ink on her upper arm. It was an assortment of flowers and matched her bubbly personality perfectly. They were now the fifth adornment on her beautiful dark skin, each one of them tempting me more and more to get a few of my own.

“Another one already, Tiff?”

“Listen, you’ll know how addicting they get as soon as you get your first.”

“You sound so confident that I will.”

“Oh I know you will. You’re dating a rockstar, after all. Not to mention he’s the goddamn lead singer and has tattoos of his own.”

“Shut up.” I giggled, “Speaking of, are you coming to the farewell party tomorrow?”

“I plan on it, but I’ll probably be there a couple hours late. My dad’s flying into town for the weekend so I plan on visiting first. I’m definitely coming though.”

I hummed, “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. We all know it’ll go till sunrise anyway.”

She let out a loud laugh, likely remembering the last party of theirs we went to where she ended up more drunk than I’d ever seen her. She claims she remembers flashes of the night; playing strip beer pong and being dared to steal one of the neighbor’s bushes—which, after much convincing from those who were sober, she decided against it—but didn’t recall half of the hilarious memories of her the rest of us did. Personally, my favorite was watching her hold a tomato soup can and cry over the fact that it could never have children.

Tiff let out a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, turning in my direction. Her words were muffled by her yawn as she spoke, “Imma go to bed now. You good before I go?”

I smiled at her, “Yeah I’m good. I won’t stay up too much longer, just need to go through my nightly routine of looking at the stars, ya know, the usual.”

She nodded, wrapping the blanket around her and heading to her bedroom, “Sleep well, babe. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Back at ya.”

It was a habit of mine, gazing at the night sky before sleeping. It gave me comfort knowing that out there, somewhere, there was something else out there with me. Almost like I wasn’t going through everything alone.

I set my purse down when I reached our kitchen, reaching for a tea pot and tea bags, brainlessly brewing my favorite tea as I thought of what Yunho might be doing right now. It was probably most likely that he was practicing for their tours, but I could only hope he was getting a little bit of rest.

I stepped out onto our porch to look at the stars with a cup of tea in my hands, the night sky twinkling with all the stars it could offer. A slight breeze rustled my hair and I closed my eyes, thankful for the pleasant weather. I heard a sudden snap of a branch and my eyes quickly opened as I searched out property for any sign of an aggressive animal. My eyes finally landed on a human-like figure. Feeling adrenaline run though me, I decided to confront whoever or whatever it was.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I spoke, my voice loud but not quite a yell.

The figure took off it’s hood to show their face, and I saw a familiar pair of ice blue eyes, though I hadn’t seen them in years, “I’m here to see you, of course.”

My brain quickly connected her to the woman I hoped I’d never see again.

Lucy.

“Well I don’t want to see you. Leave.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense, “But I came all this way! Just to...say hello.”

I took a step towards her, hoping that if I appeared confrontational she would leave me alone. “I don’t know who you are, now please leave. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Oh, you poor girl. You really think you have the upper hand?” She pulled out a knife, and walked towards me at impressive speed, pointing the weapon at my throat. “I know you’ve been seeing Yunho. I. Don’t. Like. That.” She emphasized every word of the last sentence, anger woven within her voice.

I wanted to fight back. Everything in me was screaming to fight back, but I knew I had no chance. I had no idea what she was capable of, and I didn’t dare to find out.

“I dated him first and he’s still mine. You’re going to break up with him, you hear me?” She screamed in my ear, the sound shaking me to my core, “I never want to see you near him again.” She grabbed my jaw harshly, forcing my eyes to lock with hers. “I bet he doesn’t even love you.”

My eyes watered. I knew she was wrong, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the harshness of her words I began to doubt myself.

Her grip tightened and I let out a yelp, “He loves me and I love him. He’s always loved me, not you. Why would he ever love a thing like you?”

She then threw me to the ground, towering over me, “Break up with him. Make him hate you. If you don’t,” She squatted down next to me, once more pointing the knife at my throat, “I’ll kill him myself and make you watch. Then,” She cocked her head, a crazed smile plastered on her face, “I’ll kill you. If I can’t have him, no one can.” She stood, smirking at me, “And you know I will.”

She kicked me in the stomach, watching as I crawled into myself, groaning from the pain. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.

“I’ll be watching you at the party tomorrow. Do it then. Break his heart. I’ll kill him then and there if you don’t.” She looked down at me and scoffed, “And I’ll be bringing friends to make sure the job gets done.”

I carefully opened my eyes to see her stepping over me, walking back into the darkness from which she came. I scrambled back into my house, hyperventilating from the interaction I just had.

I spent the night crying, not able to sleep even for a minute. I tried to think rationally, but there were just too many variables. How many ‘friends’ was she bringing? Would she really kill Yunho in front of everyone? Where would she be watching me from? Is she watching me now?

I could text or call Yunho to let him know, but where would we go from there? He’d want to meet me and she’d kill him instantly. Right?

“Maybe I could pull him aside at the party and warn him?” I murmured to myself, “No, she could probably see that. Maybe there’s people actually at the party who are looking out for us, too.” I covered my face with my hands and fell back into my pillows, weeping as I knew I had to break up with the love of my life.

Choosing to wear a yellow dress honestly couldn’t have been more ironic. Yellow was supposed to be a happy color. A color of hope and yearning, innocence and warm days full of laughter. It was the complete antithesis of how I felt and what I knew I had to do. Even worse, the weather was perfect. It was sunny, but not so much to make it unbearable outside. Everything about today made my insides twist.

I took a breath at the door of Yunho’s house, bracing myself for what I had to do. Knocking a few times I heard a commotion inside before the man I came to see opened the door. His smile had never been bigger.

“Baby!” He cheered, pulling me into a bear hug and ruffling my styled hair, “I’m so excited you’re here!”

He looks so ecstatic. And I have to break him.

The thought crushed me and brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t let him die. I knew she was serious, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. I grabbed Yunho’s arm, pulling him outside and away from everyone in the house.

I looked at the ground as I felt my lips begin to quiver, “I’m sorry. I just need to get this over with.”

Yunho bent down to meet my eyes, “Hey, hey. What’s going on sweetheart?” His voice was gentle, one of his hands coming to rub the tears from my face, “I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated anyone. “I don’t love you, Yunho.” My hands began to shake beyond my control, my own body knowing I was making a mistake.

“W-what?” Yunho’s voice cracked. A moment of silence passed before he let out a hollow laugh, “Baby, you don’t mean that-”

I looked up at him and immediately wished I hadn’t. Tears were welling in his eyes, his own hands beginning to shake.

“I said I don’t love you Yunho!” I said louder than I intended, “Not anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry.”

He took a step back and I noticed his hands clenching, something he always did to keep himself from crying.

“If that’s what you want,” Tears fell from his eyes before he finished his sentence, “Then I’ll support your decision.” He looked to the side, not knowing what else to say.

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and explain everything, tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, not even for a second, but I couldn’t. Instead, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and looked at him one last time. He was so fucking handsome, so goddamn kind, and here I was doing this to him. Maybe he did deserve someone better.

“Good luck with your tour, Yunho. I know you’ll be fantastic.”

I turned and walked away from him quickly, leaving the house and ignoring the stare I could feel on me. I ran across the yard to my car, starting the engine and leaning my head against the steering wheel. I felt myself lose all oxygen in my body, the only option left to take large gasps of air. My vision was so clouded by tears I couldn’t even see anymore. I’d just lost myself along with my other half. I’d never felt as empty as I did in that moment.

Just then I heard a knocking on my window. I half-hardheartedly lifted my head and felt my heart lurch. Yunho was standing outside my car, eyes red and puffy, looking at me like I was the last person he’d ever see. I opened my car without thinking, my breathing still as uneven as before.

Yunho spoke, his voice coarse and distant, “I’m not asking you to change your mind, but I need you to know that I have always loved you and I always will. That will never change.”

I wiped the snot from my nose but didn’t bother to try and fix the mascara I knew was streaming down my face. I knew I had to look horrible, but he still held so much love for me that it was easy to see in his eyes. I fought myself to not reply, knowing that if I’d open my mouth all I’d say was ‘I love you’ over and over again.

“Is it too out of line to ask for a last hug?” He smiled sadly as more tears poured from his eyes.

I shook my head, running into his arms and embracing him. I felt like I made a mistake the moment I did because I could smell him. He was wearing the cologne I bought him for his birthday. His warm, sturdy chest...everything about him felt like home.

“Goodbye, Yunho.”

I arrived at home alone, tears still stinging my eyes. Tiff was nowhere to be found and I couldn’t decide if I was thankful or sad for the fact that she wasn’t there. I barely made it out to our porch before collapsing once again, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, it could’ve been one hour or three, but given the setting sun it looked like it was the latter. Once more I heard a noise outside our home, and once more the female figure appeared before me.

“You did good,” Lucy said, twirling her knife in her hands, “Dare I say I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” I cried, “I did what you want now get the fuck away from me.”

“My, my. You have quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” She tsked, “But you did as I asked, so I might as well comply. Don’t; however, think that you can go crawling back to Yunho and tell him about this. I’ll keep watching you and if you decide to do just that...I’ll follow through with my promise.”

I kept my eyes on the ground, convinced that if I looked up at her I’d attempt to rip the hair out of her head. No anger I had ever felt before could surmount to the rage I was feeling.

“Nonetheless, it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss.”

As soon as she came, she was gone. When I finally let myself look up, I could no longer see her, only darkness. Once again, I was alone.

Six months had passed since I broke up with Yunho and today officially made the third new date I’d went on. All of them were absolutely horrible. It wasn’t even that the guys were mean or rude or weren’t attractive, they just weren’t him.

Why am I even trying to move on?

I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy, the bags under my eyes ever prominent. I couldn’t fool myself. I’d never be able to be with another man again. I forced myself to hold back tears and reached back to untie my hair, preparing to take a bath in hopes that it would take my mind off of things.

I began to run the warm water as I reached for several candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, trying to forget the entire day altogether. As I waited for the tub to fill I grabbed my phone, opening Instagram for no other reason than to have something to do. Although Yunho and I broke up, I still followed their band account, as well as their individual accounts. Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung were still my friends, after all. Yunho was the only exception. Both of us unfollowed each other early on just because it was too painful. I didn’t hold it against him and hoped he didn’t hold it against me either.

Regardless, my eyes found the most recent post on Sidekick Heart’s account. All four members were shirtless, their hair dripping wet with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. They were standing by a pool, the same one Yunho and I would often break into. I noticed Yunho first, how could I not? His smile wasn’t as wide as the other’s, his eyes a bit colder, but he looked happy all the same. He looked good. Really, really good. He was always fit while we were dating, but he gained more muscle since I last saw him and it didn’t go unnoticed by their fans, either. I clicked the comment section against my better judgement, knowing what I was going to see before I even did so.

“Yunho looks like a fucking goddd”

“So Yunho’s still single right??”

“Yunhooo hmu I beg you”

“Jesus Christ Yunho break me please”

A surge of jealousy rushed through me. I hated when girls said those things when we were together, but now that we were apart it made it even worse. I had no right to be jealous, and that was the worst part.

The water reached my leg that was resting on the side of the tub and I scrambled to turn off the faucet. Doing my best to push the images from my mind I placed my phone aside and stripped from my clothes, settling in the water. I sighed as some water fell out of the side of the tub. It wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, but it seemed to just be another thing to go wrong.

My eyes wandered back to my phone, Instagram still open and the picture I was looking at earlier still on display. He was so fucking hot and seeing that he was standing next to that pool—our pool—made my brain short circuit. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from taking me back to the last night we broke in, the way we teased each other and how it inevitably led to sex. It seemed I had no control over my body as my dominant hand slipped between my legs.

But as much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t the same. My fingers weren’t as long or slender as his and just nothing about our touches were the same, but the image of him just made my hormones rage. Every ounce of me craved him.

My fingers swirled around my clit, a bundle of pleasure shooting through me at the action. I closed my eyes, letting my body take over and repeat the motions and much as I fought not to, my brain kept replaying scenes of two of us again, and again, and again.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yunho spoke as I sunk down on his dick, barely finding the energy to lift myself up again even though the noises he made were like shots of espresso.

“Aww, is my baby getting tired?” He cooed, jerking his hips into mine.

“It’s not fair!” I whined, “I’m not good at this and you know it.”

“But we wouldn’t be a good couple if we didn’t encourage each other to work hard, right? Up you go, flower.”

I whimpered and pouted, but still obeyed him. Taking pity on me, Yunho grabbed my waist and lifted me, relaxing his grip as I moved downward. I made a noise that wasn’t understood by Yunho, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?”

“Please. More. I need you so bad.” I begged.

Yunho laughed, “I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”

I nodded before remembering that he’d probably prefer a verbal answer, “Yes. I’m w-wrapped around your finger.”

He let out a noise of satisfaction before flipping us over into a position so that he would have full control. I grabbed the bedsheets roughly, so much in my own world that I didn’t hear Yunho’s words.

“What was that?” I let out with a series of mewls.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, too, you know? I don’t go an hour without thinking about you anymore. I can’t even have a single conversation without bringing you up. Anytime someone says your name my heart beats out of my damn chest. You’re the only woman for me.”

My legs shook as my high approached, barely able to breathe at it’s intensity. It took me a minute before I could even remember where I was. As I came to my senses, I felt tears biting at my eyes and this time I didn’t bother to hold them back. I watched as they streamed down my face and joined the now-cold water surrounding me. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, glad Tiff wasn’t home to hear my wailing. She’d been good about staying with me since the breakup, but tonight she just wasn’t here. The hole in my heart felt even deeper now. I wondered if he found someone, if he was happy now. Hell, maybe it was his ex. The thought tore my heart out and ripped it in two. I wanted to be happy for him if it was true, but I just couldn’t be. I was still too selfish. I still wanted him to love only me.

New friends, new beginnings or whatever.

That’s apparently what I thought when I began attending more clubs at college after the breakup, meeting new people and eventually finding a really solid friend group. All who happened to really like punk-rock music.

“You should really go with us,” Shang directed his words at me, “There’s a new band popping up that’s playing this weekend. It’s three hours away but they have great music.”

I sighed, not fully convinced although it did sound fun. The last concert I’d been to was one of Yunho’s and though I hadn’t even seen him in what felt like forever, I still couldn’t help myself from thinking of him anytime someone talked about concerts. Sensing my apprehension, the woman beside me spoke up.

“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!” Tyra chanted in my ear, her black curls bouncing with her as she clapped her hands between the words. “Come on, it would be so much fun and you know it.”

I bit my lip, deep in thought. I knew I would have fun but I just didn’t know if that would outweigh the pain I would feel.

“What’s the band name?” I asked, looking at Shang.

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his head, “I was a little drunk when I told one of my friends I’d be there so I don’t even remember what they’re called.”

“How do you know they have great music, then?” I laughed, Tyra agreeing with me, apparently not knowing who was playing when she agreed either.

“I mean, my brother listens to their music and he’s got good music taste so they’ve gotta be good.”

I closed my eyes as I felt an oncoming headache, knowing they wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Fuck it.” I stated, “I’ll go.”

The two cheered, Shang promising that I’d enjoy myself. I doubted it, truthfully, but really it was decided that I’d go the moment the pair brought the idea up to me.

Our trio waded through the giant crowd as the doors opened to let us into the venue. It was big, one of the larger concerts I’ve been to. Whoever we were seeing was successful, for sure. The volume at which everyone was speaking was essentially a yell, so I had to do just that to get my messages through.

“I still can’t believe we have no fucking idea who’s playing!” I yelled at Shang.

He laughed, “I got seats towards the front row, though! I didn’t even have to pay for them!”

“That’s not gonna matter if we don’t know any of the lyrics, you dipshit!” Tyra barked.

“Okay okay I should’ve asked, I get that now.”

As we found our way towards the seats, there was a big projector with the words ‘Sidekick Heart’ displayed across it. My heart dropped and I suddenly felt it become hard to breathe.

“You got us tickets to a Sidekick Heart concert?” Tyra beamed, “I love their music and I’m practically in love with San! His vocals are insane! Holy shit, Shang!”

“Ohhhh yeah I remember now.” He chuckled.

I seemed to fade into the background as the two of them discussed their love for the band and the members. All I could think about was seeing Yunho again.

Would he see me? How would he react if he does?...Does he hate me?

I only came back to reality when the audience began to cheer and I saw all the members step onto stage. Seonghwa cradled his electric guitar, in one arm, waving at the audience with the other. Wooyoung plopped down behind the drum set, smiling at the audience while twirling a drumstick. With his bass guitar, San, ever the king of expressions, gave his best smoulder to the audience and it seemed like the audience collectively screamed over him. Then came Yunho out to center stage, his electric guitar in his hands and a smirk on his face as if he knew everyone in the damn building wanted to fuck him. And he’d be right. The spotlights on each of them made them look like actual gods. If I didn’t know them personally I would have thought they were.

Yunho leaned into the mic, his gruff voice taking me by surprise, “Hello everyone! Great to see you all! If you haven’t been to one of our concerts before this is how it’s gonna work: You’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sing, we’re all gonna have a fucking great time tonight!”

The crowd erupted as the first song began to play. It was one of their more popular songs and for good reason. All over it was a really well put together song and I couldn’t help as I began to mouth along to the words. Song after song played, some I knew some I didn’t, and the entire time I couldn’t look away from the man singing. He radiated confidence and looked relaxed as if he’d been performing for decades. I knew he wasn’t as cool as he seemed, I’d given him so many pep talks before performances I couldn’t count them, but as an outsider you’d never know.

I wonder who talked him up this time?

“Alright everyone. This is the last song of the night and-”

The audience booed, everyone upset at the night coming to a close.

Yunho laughed. The sound was rich and beautiful. He was truly enjoying himself. This is what he was meant to do, with or without me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

Yunho’s voice filled my ears. “I know, I know. I’d love to stay a bit longer, too. Here’s the thing though...” He paused and I opened my eyes only to see him looking back at me. His eyes automatically softened as they always did when he saw me, but as if he remembered how we ended his gaze hardened slightly, like he was trying to distance himself. It felt like we’d been looking at each other for hours before he opened his mouth to speak again, but I knew very well that my perception of time had been off for a while.

“Even if we only have this little time left, I’ve truly enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. The fact that it’s coming to an end soon is what makes it so special, I think.” Yunho broke eye contact with me, smiling slightly and glancing back out at the sea of people. “Seeing your smiling faces, your energetic cheers—all of it—is a reminder to me that we’re so lucky to be doing this as a job. Really...I love you all.”

The audience let out a chorus of ‘awws’ which was followed by several rather aggressive ‘I love you too’s.

The lead singer once more smiled, “Now, without further adieu, this is one of our newest songs and it’s called Brown Eyes, here it is.”

The music began to play, all instruments coming together to make a somber tune. Somehow they were always able to write music that perfectly encapsulated emotions or ideas. This one? Loss.

“Since you left you’re still so infused

In how I think and what I do

Can’t seem to get you to leave me alone

Your ghost stayed here and she watches my tears

That run down our picture frames”

Then he found me again in the crowd, no doubt able to see the tears staining my makeup, no doubt able to see how broken I was. And still, he sang.

“I’ve tried hard to fight it

Yet I keep givin’ in

There’s been no one but you

I’m trapped, confined

And your platinum smile still knocks me out

Every single time”

He kept eye contact with me, not once breaking his gaze. It was almost as if he wanted me to break first, as if he wanted me to look away before him. As if he was daring me to leave him again.

San stepped closer to his mic and took his eyes away from his bass guitar, Yunho’s voice being replaced by the purple-haired man. As his voice rang out I only could’ve hoped the next lyrics were about one of San ex’s, not me. Even if they weren’t, Yunho still looked at me.

“It’s not aimed at me

Maybe it never was

But oh darling, you could’ve fooled me”

My eyes flickered down, unable to look at Yunho any longer. His gaze only broke my heart further and in turn I felt my eyes water. After a moment or two, I worked up the courage to look back at him. He was still looking at me like he never moved his eyes. I couldn’t seem to register the lyrics until Yunho began to sing again, his voice drawing me in as it always did.

“You've disappeared without a trace

Left an unsuspecting guise

Love, I need you to know

I’ve been losing far more than sleep

Over those deep chocolate eyes.”

As the song and the show ended and everyone in the crowd cheered, I felt a rush of emotions run through me. Thrilled that they’d become so successful, proud of them for putting on such an amazing show, and hurt because I could still see a sliver of sadness in Yunho’s eyes.

I hurt him.

Yunho then reluctantly said his goodbyes to the audience along with the rest of the members. His jaw tightened as he walked over to Wooyoung, whispering something in his ear before walking off stage. Feeling like I was set in a trance, I grabbed my Tyra’s arm and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before following him. I completely ignored her questions and concerns about where I was going, dead set on talking to him again even though I didn’t have a damn idea what I was going to say.

Somehow, through the giant maze of people, I was able to spot Yunho leaving through the backstage. Instinctively I ran towards him, still having no plan in mind. I only stopped when a purple-headed man appeared before me.

“Y/n!” He smiled, bringing me into a hug, “I missed you so much!” He pulled back from me, “We all did.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung came from behind me, both wearing sad, kind smiles. They looked healthy and happy, which was all I could’ve asked for them.

“How’ve you been, girl?” Seonghwa cocked his head, genuinely curious.

I hesitated, not sure if I should tell them the truth. But at the end of the day, they were still my friends. “Not...great. If I’m being honest. I was kinda hoping I could talk to Yunho...if I could.”

They all shared a look I couldn’t understand.

Wooyoung spoke up, “We’re having a party at a friend’s house after this, you should come.”

I was surprised, still not fully understanding the situation.

San frowned, “I think it would be good for you two to talk. He didn’t tell us too much about what happened, but I’m sure you had a good reason. You were always so good to all of us.”

“I can text you the address if you’d like,” Wooyoung added, “You still have the same number?”

I nodded.

“Okay, good. We need to get back but we’ll see you there. Take care, okay?”

“I will. Thanks guys.”

San pulled me in for another hug, “Of course.”

They waved as we parted ways and for the first time that night, I felt hopeful. I spotted Shang and Tyra and ran up to them, no doubt a smile on my face as I asked, “Soo...you guys up for a party?”

I ditched my friends the moment we arrived, barely even sparing a word with Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung once they nudged me in the direction of Yunho. I didn’t try to think too much about it, knowing I’d explain it all to them later.

He was standing in an empty bedroom, looking at the floor and sipping out of a red cup which likely contained liquor. When his eyes met mine a rush of memories flooded back to me. The first time we kissed, the first time he confessed he loved me, the first time he saw me cry.

The first time I broke his heart.

His eyes raised to mine, his face stoic, “Enjoy the show?”

My mouth opened and closed, not having any clue what to say to him, “Yunho I-”

“I know why you did it.” He said suddenly, “A week after you left me Lucy showed up to one of our shows and tried to convince me it was all a coincidence. Said that I could finally be with her. When I didn’t buy it she finally gave in and told me she convinced you we were better apart. So naturally I called the cops and they arrested her for breaking the restraining order, thank god.” He shook his head, looking disgusted, “You know I never wanted us to be apart. My question to you,” he took a step further towards me, “is why did you do it? Why did you end us?”

When I couldn’t seem to respond he talked once more, “You could’ve told me what she was trying to do. We could’ve worked it out together.” He looked more disappointed and heartbroken rather than angry.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yunho.” I bit my tongue as I fought back tears, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I-I’m just-” I sobbed, “Lucy told me she would kill you if I kept dating you.”

Yunho’s mouth shut and eyes widened, clearly missing that bit of information. I took it as my cue to continue “I don’t know why she did it, but it’s probably because we were happy.”

More tears fell down my face and it became harder for me to talk, but I owed him the truth. I had to tell him the truth. I looked up at him but because of my tears my vision was blurred. Yunho’s hands were tightening into fists as he looked away from me.

“I couldn’t tell you because I had to protect you so I had to make you hate me and I’m just so sorry.” I fell to the ground, my body feeling as heavy as my heart.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to meet his own, “I’m sorry.” A tear streamed down his cheek, heavy remorse in his eyes, “God she’s fucking awful.”

A laugh got caught in my throat, “Yeah she is.”

He set his cup down somewhere along the way a his hands cupped my face, finally whispering the words I’d only heard in dreams, “I still love you so fucking much. I never stopped loving you. I never even tried to stop because I know I couldn’t.”

I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard, unintentionally knocking him to the floor. He met my lips with just as much fire, groaning when I unconsciously bucked my hips into his, all my sexual frustration still pent up.

“I missed you so fucking much.” Yunho growled, obviously feeling needy too but deciding against it as he wrapped his arms around my waist, speaking in between kisses, “I missed your cute laugh. I missed your lips. I missed your fucking awful jokes. I missed the way you’d look at me whenever you told me you loved me. I missed your gorgeous body and your smile. I missed your moans and the way you arched your back when we’d have sex. I missed how alive you made me feel.” He pulled back to look at me, “My life had no purpose without you.”

I took a breath, tears once more falling, “Mine didn’t either.” It wasn’t anything profound or emotional, but it was the truth. It didn’t.

Gently picking me up, he placed me on the bed. His eyes were raw, as emotional as they could ever be. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me as if I would disappear at any minute.

“Stay with me. Come with us on the rest of the tour. If you can’t take a vacation we’ll hire you as an assistant. If you can’t do that we’ll make some other kind of accommodation. Just stay, please. Please be mine again.”

I looked at the man in front of me. The tough-looking, six-foot tall, tattooed, strong man that could probably scare the shit out of anyone. Yet here he was, bearing his heart to me and being as vulnerable as a person could be.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I’ve only ever been yours.”

The morning was bright, lighting directly hitting my eyes. I cursed myself for not closing the blinds the night before and blinked off my sleep when I heard a familiar pleasant sound.

Jumping down from the bed I put on the new fluffy bathrobe my lover bought me. I followed Yunho’s voice out to my porch, realizing I was listening to a new song of his. The man was strumming a guitar, a beautiful melody falling from his lips. When he noticed me, he smiled and continued to sing.

“I’m in a vivid yellow mood

You’re my muse, my home and room

And now that I have you again

What could I ever fear?

Oh do me a favor, dear

And inscribe your name on my sleeve

Let me keep it there forever

Because you’re better than any daydream.”

#ateez #kpop #imagines #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez smut #atzinc #fluff #ateez yunho #rockstar au #yunho au

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albertserra · 2 years

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this might be a stupid question but i was just wondering how you find the movies you decide to watch? is it from research or recommendations etc. you watch such a large variety of film and im trying to get more on that!!

Ofc there’s the obvious ones like watching for a director or actor or occasionally even writer (and even rarer but I have done it.. a composer!) and watching what people recommend to me. Outside of that it’s really just research from like any random sources. Lists like the top #xyz for letterboxd/imdb etc are occasionally useful but those can get old quick and always have clear biases. User made lists can be much more exciting to look through tho. If you like a filmmaker do some googling and maybe they’ll cite some references or inspirations, or you’ll see people recommending other works in reviews. I like to explore regions I haven’t watched as many films from or ones I take an interest in- Southeast Asia obviously, but I also like a lot of western African film and want to get more into Western Asia/North African (the night 1992 from Syria!) and south asian film. Googling or sometimes I’ll literally just click on a country on letterboxd and click random movies and see if they look interesting. Or like if you like a certain theme or subject (like gay subtext or post colonialism are ones I really take an interest in) do research that way, or just ask people for recs. My post colonialism list has gotten a lot of input which has been endlessly helpful for me to discover more. I also like to keep an eye on sites like blu ray.com bc they’ll announce new restorations of older films which can be really interesting (provided someone rips it for online viewing, or some company decides to stream it etc). If you’re open to reading theory (or just books in general I guess) books and essays and articles on topics can sometimes reference movies. That’s what I did with my mid century British binge and thai cinema uncensored etc. And of course the more you watch the more reference points you have and exploring from those different branches becomes easier and easier. Tumblr has honestly been an invaluable resource for me too tbh. This answer is all over the place sorry but I really don’t have any kind of concrete methods it’s literally just a combination of all the factors above plus more im forgetting to mention.

I’ve gotten this question before and I lost my answer so I’m tagging this one to hopefully be able to find it later. Let’s see if I remember to use this tag

#asks #anonymous #faq*

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st-just · 3 years

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Tell us about the Better ME3, please, you're posting about it has got the bad real one in my head again.

Okay, so!

Well, I'll limit myself to just the third game, because while 2's plot is very stupid it never quite got to the point of daydreaming about the 'indiana jones/tomb raider in space hunting for Prothean relics and shit" version I'd have made if you put me in charge of EA. But that does mean that you're basically already painted into the corner of having the apocalyptic Reaper War while also having established absolutely no way to beat them, which means you're stuck pulling a rabbit out of your ass and making it the centerpiece of the plot.

Still, you can do better than the Crucible. So,so much better. Hell, just limiting it to 'Prothean ultra-superweapon they didn't quite finish" and forgetting all the reveals about it later on would already be a massive improvement. So, for the sake of economy, we'll go with that. It's a complete maguffin anyway. Maybe it shuts down the space-magic that powers Indoctrination and is also how the Reapers communicate and control their drones and destroyers. Idk.

The first really big change I'd make is to the nature of the Reaper invasion. Specifically, the Reapers are not used to having to fight, and the current Cycle is the hardest target they've ever had. Why?

1. In literally every cycle before this one, the war was over before it began, because the entire Reaper fleet just popped into the middle of galactic civilization, ripped the heart out of all the biggest political, economic and military structures, and were able to move out from the center with the indoctrinated galactic leadership giving them all the information they could ever need. Thanks to literally the whole plot of the first game, they can't do this, and actually have to fight an opponent that still has a head and a logistics network.

2. As Javik helpfully explains, and is brought up at least a couple more times before being forgotten, every previous cycle has been dominated by a single species, since the first mover advantage of being the species to figure out how to use Mass Relays and claim the Citadel is more than enough of a boost for whoever manages it to imperialize their way across the Galaxy and incorporate any other species on their terms. In this Cycle, however, the ones who got the lucky spot were the Asari who are, well, like that, who were happy to keep all their imperialism cultural and all their colonialism neo-, because they're all perverted xenophiles I guess, and also because according to the codex they're all a bunch of direct democracy city-states who've never had a world war, so the possibility might just literally not have occurred to them. Whatever, in any case - this cycle is much more diverse, meaning it's much less vulnerable to a decapitation strike, and much less likely to have giant blindspots or doctrinal vulnerabilities.

3. Technology. Remember, by the time of the first game, the Reaping was already supposed to have started decades ago. And, if we're allowing ourselves some minor/justifiable/possibly not even retcons, even if they were all assholes about it, every Council military obviously started tearing apart Sovereign's wreckage and studying every scrap they could grab before the fires were even out. So, while they're still way ahead, the Reaper's technological advantage is not nearly as overwhelming as it would otherwise be.

All of which is adds up to the fact that, since we're playing this as an action movie, the Reapers can be defeated conventionally, at least once you unify the galaxy against them and get the Prothean superweapon online. It'll still come with an absolutely horrifying butchers bill, of course - but that's why you spend the game running around getting every major player on board and preventing the Reaper's indoctrinated saboteurs and quislings from crippling defenses and derailing the coalition.

...okay, it's 2am. Will write more about, like, the weird idea for a tripartite alignment system for endings I have later, if I remember/someone bugs me.

#video games #mass effect #this is theoretically a writing blog #it's 2 am and i'm rambling #Mass Effect 3 rewrite #in case I need a tag for this

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separatist-apologist · 3 years

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If you have the chance, would you be able to write something along the lines of Elain moving on from Graysen (the asshole) and deciding to give Lucien a chance?

Hi anon! I hope you don't mind but I made this a one-shot. It's on AO3, but I'll post it here as well.

1 year:

Elain sat in the window of Feyre’s home, staring down at the city stretched beneath her. She could see the people of Velaris moving about, smiling, talking, living. Some part of her was jealous, though not enough to prompt her into moving from the same spot she’d been in for weeks. Every time she stood, the memory of Graysen came crashing through the gates of her mind, demanding recognition. It would have been fine if all she thought about was that last, painful reunion but her mind replayed all their best moments. Over and over on a loop, Elain watched herself fall in love with Graysen like it was the first time. Every whispered compliment, every shared laugh, every promise, over and over until she could scarcely breathe.

Her skin felt too tight, unable to contain the breadth of emotion constantly roiling inside her. She barely slept and when she did, her brain convinced her she was still human, still his. Each time, she woke to the crushing realization he was really gone. She’d never hear his voice, see him smile, feel his touch. It was too much.

So she sat, waiting for the moment she could finally house the pain somewhere manageable. She knew she’d never love again and to that end, Elain only hoped to learn how to move around while she carried it. She thought if she could just force a smile and pretend, somehow everything would be alright.

She resented the strangers before, so blissfully unaware of her, of what was happening just above them. Look up! Her mind screamed. Look at me! But no one did. No one but him, without fail, every time. He was walking up to the house as she watched, a little package tucked beneath his arm. He tilted his head, the sun reflecting off his bright red hair, and their eyes met just like always. He held her gaze for a moment, as if to say hello, and Elain, like always, looked away.

Leave me alone.

He didn’t acknowledge her beyond those shared looks, didn’t speak to her, didn’t stand too close if he happened upon her. She wondered, at times, if he didn’t know how she felt. Perhaps he sensed she didn’t want to talk to him. Graysen’s replacement, she thought bitterly. Everyone was waiting for her to get over her engagement, to forget him and move on with him. She didn’t want another, didn’t want to try again, to start over.

She wanted Graysen. She wanted him so badly it made her teeth ache. Her stomach constantly bubbled with anxiety, her chest flooded with sadness. What good was life without him? Was Graysen missing her? Would he move on, love again? That thought terrified her to the point of distraction. She wanted to run away, to see him, to beg him to take her back. She crafted arguments in her mind, imagined scenarios in which he came to find her. She daydreamed of a way to become human again so she could have him back.

None of it made living alone any easier. So Elain stayed, curled in her window.

Waiting.

9 months:

Elain looked down at the pen in her hand with a sigh. Three months of letters, all unanswered. She wanted a chance to explain, to tell him what happened. To see him, if she was honest. She’d begged and pleaded and screamed all to no avail. Graysen didn’t respond, not even to tell her to leave him alone. His silence was a response, though it didn’t make things any easier. She set down her pen next to an untouched piece of paper and rose, resisting the urge to try again. She felt insane, constantly reaching out, constantly waiting. Nothing could fix what was broken, though it hardly made her feel better.

She’d stopped crying every night though the dreams persisted, and her appetite hadn’t altogether returned. Her sisters stopped watching her so carefully when she managed to plaster a smile on her face and pretend she was moving on. Was she? Was this what moving on felt like? She felt empty, numb. She was going through the motions, baking and gardening and reading but none of it gave her joy. She felt no sense of purpose.

At times she thought she could throw herself into the Sidra and it wouldn’t matter at all. She was wondering, again, if she ought to walk out to the bridge and see if this was the day she might hurl herself over the railing. How long would it take anyone to notice she’d left? A day? A week? Would they sigh with relief, no longer burdened by her presence?

She jammed the heel of her palm into the bread dough she worked. Perhaps they’d miss her cooking, but not her. No one looked at her long enough to see what was missing. No one really saw her at all. She could have been the paint on the walls, the—

“Elain?” A deep, male voice asked from the swinging door of the kitchen. Elain froze. She recognized that voice. His voice.

She looked over her shoulder wordlessly as he stepped inside, his black boots clicking softly on the tile beneath his feet. He seemed uncomfortable and out of place so finely dressed among her flour coated dress. Two steps were all he took, close enough to reach the black marble counter at the furthest end of the room. He set a small box atop it, his eyes fixed on her face. She didn’t move.

“Have a good day,” he murmured, offering her a slight bow before stepping back out. She breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her hands out of the dough to get the package he’d left. She wondered if he’d wrapped it, running her fingers over the shiny gold paper. Carefully, cringing when she accidentally ripped some of it, Elain opened the perfectly wrapped gift to find a hard covered book sitting inside. She opened it with trembling fingers.

Fairy tales, the kind she’d grown up with, complete with beautiful paintings done with vibrant oil. He’d left a silver foiled bookmark in front of one of the stories and Elain flipped to it, gasping softly. A brilliant picture of a sunlit sea and a story of mermaids awaited her and she wondered absently if he was trying to tell her that was his favorite. Elain closed the book reverently, hugging it to her chest.

It wasn’t until later that night, buried under a blanket with nothing but a candle for light, that Elain realized that book was the first thing that made her feel anything in months.

She wondered if he knew he’d kept her from trying to jump off a bridge that day.

She wondered if he knew how she felt at all.

6 months:

Ripping up weeds offered Elain a small amount of savage pleasure. Over and over, she imagined it was Graysen she pulled at, her mind angrily replaying the speech she wished she could scream at him. You act like I wanted this! She yelled silently at a particularly deep-rooted weed. You act as though I left you! She tossed the weed onto the pile she was collecting, tsking when she realized she’d broken another nail. Feyre would chide her for not using gloves, his gloves, but she liked the feeling of her hands in the dirt. She liked feeling the earth give way, bending to her will.

Retribution, she thought savagely, ripping another. You abandoned me! She imagined she’d scream. You promised forever and then left me to rot! She imagined how he’d blubber, what pathetic, cowardly excuses he might offer. Would he apologize? She wanted him to. She wanted him to get on his knees and beg her forgiveness so she could ruthlessly tell him no. She wanted him to feel every second of agony he’d put her through. It wasn’t fair he got to get on with his life, got to move on and be happy while she’d been left with the mess he’d made.

Truthfully, it was too cold to be out digging but Rhys’ magic kept that garden alive year-round, she suspected as a gift, and Elain wasn’t about to let it become overrun. It was something to do, a small thing that made her feel like she mattered. In the scheme of things, she didn’t matter. She laughed and smiled and everyone thought her all better. No one saw her, not that she expected them to.

It didn’t make things hurt any less. Elain sighed loudly, reaching for another weed when she heard the sound of boots crunching on the gravel. Something tightened in her stomach, that familiar cord humming softly as he approached. Elain kept her hands in the dirt, fisted tightly to prevent herself from getting up and yielding to the mating bond.

“Good afternoon,” he said, hidden from view by her curtain of hair. Her spine straightened ever-so-slightly at the rich timbre of his voice, washing over her like warm water. She wondered if he expected her to respond. She nodded her head instead, her thoughts drifting towards the book he’d left, dog eared, the spine cracked. She read it almost every night, despite having the entire thing memorized. He didn’t need to know that. How had he even known she was there?

“I recognized your handiwork on the way in,” he continued pleasantly. Handiwork? She thought. “Maybe one day you could show me how you manage to make the azaleas bloom so nicely, even in the cold.”

He’d recognized her gardening? That was impossible. Anyone could plant azaleas. She stiffened, swallowing hard when he crouched beside her, his impeccable boots pressed right up against her pile of weeds.

“From the continent,” he told her, setting an ivory pouch just beside her gardening tools. She looked up, finally parting her hair with her chin, but he’d already turned his back, revealing nothing but the broadness of his back hidden beneath a cerulean coat. Elain waited until she was sure he wasn’t watching to unearth her hands and pick up the bag.

Inside were tulip bulbs from the continent. She’d always wanted to see them, had heard they bloomed more beautifully there than anywhere else in the world. Her father had told her of valleys filled with nothing but tulips. Had he seen them? How had he known she wanted to?

She brought that little bag inside with her when she finished, tucking them carefully away in her sock drawer just beside the pearl earrings he’d given her for solstice. She’d hidden those so she wouldn’t have to see them but this…this should be protected, she thought. She wanted to plant them somewhere special, somewhere just for her.

“You look good today,” Cassian commented when Elain half skipped down the stairs for dinner. She paused, turning for a bathroom so she could look at her reflection. She was surprised to find Cassian was right. She looked…almost happy.

Someone had seen her.

3 months:

All she had to do was hand him the package from Rhysand. Simple, in and out, a hello and a goodbye and nothing more. Elain concentrated, having been dropped off by Mor on her way to do other business in the human lands. Mor assured Elain she could return to where they’d arrived and wait, that she didn’t have to remain with the humans…the band of exiles… if she didn’t want to. Elain didn’t. In fact, she wished Mor could do it all and she could have remained where she was.

She saw the manor, an estate really, made of polished gray stone that made it look like a thing of legend. A fortress that might repel the truly terrible, monsters and dragons and—

“Elain?” An all too familiar voice asked. Her heart sank to her feet and time seemed to stop as she turned to face Graysen. He was human…she was in the human lands…it hadn’t occurred to her that she might see him. She’d been too absorbed at the thought of seeing him.

Graysen looked exactly as she remembered. Thick, brown hair almost flopped into his soft, puppy eyes. Angular, strong face…toned body…Graysen.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, taking three steps towards her and Elain instinctively took one back. Hurt flashed over his features for just a moment before his eyes strayed towards her arched, pointed ears peeking through her hair.

She swallowed. “Am I not allowed to be here?” She replied, refusing to give him a straight answer. He’d forfeited his right to know about her life when he left all her letters unanswered. Graysen’s eyes shifted, looking towards the manor.

“You’re here to see him,” he said, disgust curling over his words. Elain merely shrugged, as if to say so? Why did he care, she wondered? Her fear began to settle, and Elain couldn’t deny that some little part of her still missed him.

“I would hate to keep the fine, Fae Lord waiting,” he sneered, his anger clearly not directed at her. Not completely, anyway. Did he miss her, she wondered?

I don’t care, a soft voice whispered in her mind. “So would I,” she agreed, offering Graysen a soft nod of her head. Everything she’d ever imagined saying to him, every angry accusation or begged plea slipped from her mind. Instead, Elain said, “It was nice seeing you.”

Graysen’s eyes warmed, not enough to convince Elain he still cared. “You, as well.”

Elain turned, then, readjusting Rhysand’s package, and finished walking to the manor. By the time she got to the door, her anxiety was back…and Graysen was forgotten. She blew out a soft breath, raised her fist, and knocked.

It was a servant who answered. Why was she suddenly so disappointed, she wondered?

“This is for—”

“Elain?” He asked, his body appearing in the hall behind. Elain sucked in air at the sight of him. She’d never seen him so casual before, in well-fitted, brown trousers and a billowing white shirt he’d half tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He held them up with black suspenders that matched the color of his boots and his hair, typically pulled off his face, hung loose.

“From Rhysand,” she said when the servant melted away, leaving just Lucien standing in the doorway. Her eyes drifted towards his forearms, corded with muscle. Why did she like that, she wondered absently.

“Ah. I was told you would be Mor,” he informed her with a frown. Her heart sank.

“Sorry,” she murmured, moving to step off the porch and back to her meeting place with Mor. Lucien surged forward, one hand outstretched as though he meant to grab her but thought better of it.

“I’m not,” he assured her. From behind him, Elain saw a pair of bright blue eyes half hidden beneath copper colored hair peer at the pair of them. A tall, surly man stood just above her, his face etched with disapproval. “Would you like to come inside?”

She opened her mouth, about to say yes, when she remembered who this was. Who he was.

“I uh…I’m supposed to meet Mor,” she replied instead. He nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.

“Of course. Another time.”

And Elain, for reasons she’d never understand, said, “I would like that,” just as Lucien was about to shut the door. He froze, his expression unreadable.

“I’ll send word?” He asked hesitantly, as though he expected her to back out. Her heart pounded painfully, her tongue sticky in her mouth. She nodded, unable to speak and he smiled.

“Another time, then.”

Elain waited until the door clicked shut to exhale the air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She walked back to where Mor was waiting, her expression one of apology.

“I’m so sorry,” Mor said the moment Elain was within earshot.

“For what?” Elain replied, still thinking of his smile.

“I didn’t know Graysen would be nearby. I heard he spoke to you. Elain…if I had known…” Mor’s voice trailed off as she studied Elain’s face. “Did you see him?”

“I did,” she agreed, blinking. “I guess I forgot.”

Mor arched delicate, blonde eyebrows and offered Elain her hand to winnow back to Velaris. She looked over her shoulder, back towards the estate hidden in the distance.

All she could see was him, standing in that doorway.

When had that happened?

1 year:

It had been raining non-stop for days and Elain was going out of her mind. She wanted to be out in the world, to see people, to do anything. Instead she sat in the window of her bedroom, looking wistfully out at the empty streets as lightning cracked across the sky. Spring storms seemed endless, trapping her in her bedroom to pace restlessly. She pressed her forehead to the glass, wishing for the barest hint of sunlight. Elain pulled her bare feet beneath her lilac-colored dress as her mind wandered towards a letter he’d sent two weeks before. He was traveling again and he wrote of what he saw, of the things that fascinated him, of what made him laugh. She’d written back, desperate to hear more but he hadn’t responded.

Perhaps he’d tired of their constant communication through letter alone. It disappointed her, each morning that she woke with nothing new on her desk. She didn’t want him to tire of her. She wanted to see him, if she was perfectly honest. She thought she’d been obvious regarding her intentions, but perhaps something she’d said made him think she was no longer interested.

Elain glanced back down at the street where a figure was walking, a dark hood pulled over their head, body covered in a long, cloak. Her thoughts of him vanished as her interest peaked. Who was brave enough to come out in the middle of the thunderstorm raging around them? What could possibly have pulled them outdoors? Elain watched as they approached, closer and closer until they removed their hood. Red hair, a flash of gold and Elain launched herself off the windowsill and out of her room without a second thought. Her feet slapped loudly against the floor beneath her even as thunder shook the walls. She practically jumped the steps, half-tripped over a carpet runner in the hall, and yanked open the front door. Warm, spring air hit her in the face as a bolt of white lit up the dark gray sky around her. She didn’t care. She plunged into the pouring rain where he was, still walking to the front door.

He caught her the second she flew into his arms. “Lucien,” she breathed into his neck, her hands in his hair. They’d never been so close before and yet it felt right.

He chuckled, his arms tight around her waist. “Hello to you, too,” he replied, lifting her off her feet. Water drenched them both, her dress clinging to her skin but she didn’t care. She touched his face as he lowered her back to the pavement, directly into a puddle of water.

“You didn’t write,” she said, her face mere inches from his own. His expression softened, that russet eye melting into flame even as the golden one clicked softly as though responding to her words. “Things suddenly became very hectic. I came to offer you my apologies in person—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she assured him as he held her face in his broad hands. Beautiful, she thought. He was so incredibly beautiful. Lucien smiled.

“Of course I do,” he assured her, lowering his mouth ever so slightly. Her eyes fluttered closed the moment they touched. Thunder boomed around them again, not that either of them noticed. It might as well have been her pounding heart, leaping with excitement. His lips were soft and somehow, and she couldn’t explain it, he tasted the way sunshine felt.

“We should probably change out of these clothes,” Lucien told her, eyes still closed, voice strangled, when they broke the kiss.

Elain burst into giggles. He looked at her, cheeks flaming. “I didn’t mean—”

“Of course not,” Elain agreed, her hand slipping into his own. “But perhaps you could help me all the same?”

Lucien nodded, following as she led him back to the house.

And as she walked through that door, soaking wet and beaming, Elain thought she’d never been half as happy as she was in that moment.

With Lucien.

#elucien #elucien fic #elucien one shot #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #i am so soft for these two #i genuinely enjoyed writing this #and would write more like it

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Better Man. ( Taehyung x OC)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

Chapter 3 ~ The problem with marriage is this : it isn’t worth the pain of divorce.

Denial isn’t healthy.

But sometimes it helps you stay sane , at least long enough to get your act together. When you’re in denial, you kind of keep yourself together a bit. You process things a bit more slowly. Take your time examining the facts.

It helps you make a delayed but possibly more informed decision.

Impulsive decisions never end well.

So it’s good to stew in denial for a while ( a short while) and then slowly begin processing what happened, think about it, think how its gonna affect you and then make a choice.

Unfortunately for Taehyung and I... I wasn’t in denial.

Maybe I should have been.

The time between Taehyung turning up drunk and the me leaving the house was less than twelve hours. Taehyung showed up drunk and I just told him I was leaving. That we needed a break and I didn’t know when I’d be back.

Terrible choice.

In the first twelve hours, the hurt is so potent and strong , the wound so raw and fresh that you can’t think beyond the pain . Your instinct is to repay the pain, to retaliate and make the other party feel exactly what you’re feeling. So you think of the thing that would hurt them the most and you go ahead and do it.

Like move out of your shared home of eight years, take away the son he adored and possibly rip the ground right out from under his feet.

And then after the first twelve hours, reason begins to catch up.

I had wanted to go back.

I had wanted to go back to him but I was scared.

Scared that I was being weak.

That if I didn’t stick to the choice I made, Taehyung would forever see me as a pushover. That he would take it as some sick permission to do it all over again. That he’d just think I was too weak to walk out on him.

And i couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have him hurting me and not facing the consequences of it. I just couldn’t.

So I stayed away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I worked on the seventh floor of a high rise in Gangnam, probably a twenty minute drive from Taehyung’s agency. It was an electronic/ tech company that dealt with everything from mobile phones to home fittings . As the assistant director of Marketing I dealt with branding and keeping up the image of the company. Annual budgets, endorsements, campaigns and what not.

I was good at it and i enjoyed it . everyone agreed that i did a good job because the numbers spoke for themselves. But I think the main reason I got the job was because I was married to the biggest brand ambassador in the country.

“ I need the reports on consumer trends for this month and I want to meet with Social media team before lunch. There’s a drop in our web traffic and that needs to be fixed.” I told my assistant, accepting the hot coffee and muffin that he held in his hand before moving to the corner office, my strides faltering just a bit when i noticed that someone was already inside. The figure had his back to me but I could vaguely recognize the broad shoulders and muscular arms.

“Mr. Jeon’s been waiting for about ten minutes now.” Mingyu said with a smile and I nodded.

“That’s fine , I’ll handle him.” I waved my assistant off and moved to the door, unlocking it and stepping in.

“Morning, Jang Mi.” He smiled, eyes flashing with ill concealed delight and I inhaled to calm myself down. .

I could already feel a headache coming on.

“Jungkook.” I said curtly. “ To what do I owe this very early visit?” I glanced at my table finally taking the bottle of champagne in the small ice bucket.

“Thought we’d celebrate you finally being free.” He grinned.

Jeon Jungkook was handsome, intelligent , and annoyingly good at everything he did.

At 34, He was one of the youngest CFO’s in the industry, and everything he touched turned to gold. I didn’t report to him and he had zero reasons to be in my office at any given time. But , unfortunately he had never gotten that particular memo.

“I’m not in the mood, Jungkook.” I sighed, moving to the back of my desk and dropping my bag on the small ottoman on the side and my keys in the desk. I plugged my phone into the cable on the side and then went to open the blinds.

“Come on... You know how sick I’ve been of two years of hearing ‘ I’m sorry, I’m married.’ .... you’re gonna have to come up with a better excuse the next time i ask you out.”

“No. No is a whole entire sentence that you should be able to accept.” I said evenly, fixing the cushions on the couch only to have him plop down on them immediately after.

“One date. Dinner anywhere you like. i can fly you to Paris if you want.... Macua? Jeju Do? Tell me what you want and I’ll get it done. ?”

i stared at him.

“I want you to fire Kang Yeseul from the Social Media team.” I said with a shrug.

He frowned.

“The new girl? Why?”

“She’s been posting nudes that she took in my office when I was on leave last week. My name plate is literally visible.”

“Jesus fuck...these bitches get dumber by the minute.”

I couldn’t even deny it.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said swiftly. “ Anything else?”

“Web traffics gone down and I’m gonna find out why. It’s probably time for us to work out the budget for the Christmas Carnival. I think we should go for something new this time. If you can set up a meeting with all the department heads we can brainstorm a few ideas...”

“I can’t forget about that night.”

I froze.

God.

i turned around to stare at him as he lounged on the couch. If Kim Taehyung was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, Jungkook was definitely the second.

He was disconcertingly good looking and where Taehyung’s image was always the clean cut gentleman with the perfect character, Jungkook had a reputation as a bit of a delinquent. Simply because he had a penchant for leather jackets and liked to ride around Seoul on his motorbike on days off.

Which was ironical because in truth, Taehyung was far from a saint and Jungkook was relatively more put together

He was also a divorcee and a single parent. His daughter Jennie was easily the cutest two year old on the planet.

His wife and him had fifty fifty custody but she had cheated on him with his best friend. Jungkook had no patience for her. They had a very volatile relationship but he was fighting for full custody and rumor was that he would most certainly be granted it, soon.

A marathon runner , he didn’t drink or smoke.

Jungkook liked to paint and volunteered at an animal shelter once or twice a month because he loved dogs but couldn’t keep one because of his busy schedule.

So all in all , a pretty solid candidate if I was looking for a guy.

Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that I was completely and utterly done with relationships for the rest of my life, I would actually give the guy a chance.

But , it is what it is.

“That sounds like a you problem. “ I shrugged. “ It was supposed to be one night with no strings attached. And by string I meant awkward conversations three months later .”

Jungkook groaned and sat up straighter, legs spread and shirt sleeves riding up to show a very sparkly watch. Rich men and their vices. I smirked a little.

“Come on... its just dinner. I want to get to know you, that’s it.” he held his hands up.

“There’s nothing to know Jungkook. I’m actually more boring than i appear, which is saying something. I’m not going to be the girl in the leather jacket clinging to your waist when you’re joyriding that motorbike of yours through Seoul. That’s not me. I would hate something that”

He chuckled.

“Are you sure? You ever tried it?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s not the point.”

“I’ll buy you a jacket. Join me this weekend. We’ll go a ride. Then you can make a decision.”

I opened my mouth to argue when the phone rang. I grabbed it quickly.

“Hello?”

“This is Lee Taemin from the Advertising Department.”

“Yes?”

“We have a Mr. Jung from HYBE on the phone. They want to talk to us about a possible candidate for our Christmas Campaign.... “

I blinked, surprised.

“We haven’t even decided on a theme yet. “

Choosing the right actors to endorse stuff was usually the last step.

“I know but he’s saying they want to talk about Mr. Kim Taehyung as a possible candidate?”

I felt my entire jaw come unhinged.

I turned to Jungkook stunned. His eyes widened at the look on my face and he mouthed a ‘ What’

“Please tell him I’ll call him back in fifteen minutes.” I said quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook demanded.

“Taehyung’s manager...he... he wants to make him the face of the Christmas Campaign.” I said dully, mind ringing. I was utterly stupefied.

Taehyung was the face of Gucci and Versace . He was so far out of our company’s league it wasn’t even funny.

Jungkook stared at me in disbelief.

“No.” He said quickly.

I gaped at him.

“What?”

“No... we can’t have that. He’s.. he’s obviously doing this to get back with you...”

I shook my head.

“that can’t be it. He’s the one who gave me a divorce. He’s the one who wanted to end it. “

It was the shock of what I’d heard. There was no other explanation for why I said that to Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook gave me a look.

“Really? But you wanted one too right?”

“Of course I did.” I lied easily, waving him off. “Anyway that doesn’t matter. We can’t say no to him, Jungkook. Our sales would skyrocket if we get him onboard.”

Jungkook swore.

“Fuck, you’re right. The Ceo will probably piss himself in excitement. You sure you’ll be okay with it?”

Jungkook looked worried.

“You forget that Taehyung and I are actually quite good friends.” I said gently.

He grimaced.

“That's just unnatural. If you can stay friends with an ex it clearly means that either you’re still in love with each other or....”He shrugged.

“Or what?”

“Or you never loved each other in the first place.”

I swallowed the remark hitting a little too close to home for comfort.

“Schedule that meeting Jungkook. We’ll come up with a campaign theme that would fit Taehyung’s image. I’ll take to Hoseok and Taehyung.”

“You’re going to call Taehyung?” Jungkook asked casually.

“Hoshi’s with him today. I’ll probably go over to his place after work and talk to him in person.”

“Lucky bastard. He gets to hurt you and yet still have you.” Jungkook said bitterly.

I rolled my eyes.

“He doesn’t have me.”

“Doesn’t he? Why else would you turn down dates with anyone who asks? its one date.. a dinner... If you’re not still hung up on your ex husband why wouldn’t you just go on one date with-”

I’d really had quite enough of it. I threw my hands up in sheer exasperation.

“Alright fine.” I yelled, “ I’ll go to dinner with you...can you just stop psycho analyzing my relationship with my husband?”

Jungkook’s smile told me that I’d been played like a fiddle.

“excellent. Go see your husband after work and I’ll come pick you up at eight.”

“What...no wait...”

“I know where he lives. Don’t worry about it. I’ll schedule that meeting and maybe after lunch we can go over the kind of budget you’ll want. Okay?”

I felt a little like I’d stepped into quagmire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t go see Taehyung after work.

I didn’t have to.

An hour before I was due to finish my daily report, he turned up at the office with my son. My assistant let him in and I could only gape at him.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked , completely thrown.

“Mama I had ice cream with strawberries and sprinkles in a hundred colors.” Hoshi looked excited, eyes shining the way they usually did when he was with Taehyung.

“That sound incredibly exciting....”

“We missed you mama....can we go again?” He said excitedly.

“I’m sorry honey, Mama’s a little caught up with work...”

“Why don’t we wait?” Taehyung said cheerfully, “ Mama likes blueberry scones so we can get those for her...”

I stared at him.

“Okay...” I sad carefully, staring him down. What was he doing really?

“Okay... Can I go see the fishies....” Hoshi waved at the large fish tank built into the wall in my office and Taehyung laughed, letting him down.

“Sure bud.. go see how many of the fish you can identify...” He said brightly.

“ Since when do you pick me up for blueberry scones after work?” I asked briskly and he shrugged.

“Let the kid be happy , Mia. I heard Hobi hyung already spoke to you.”

“What is that all about, Tae?” I said tiredly.

“All the other offers i got are out of Korea. I want to stay with Hoshi during the Holidays so i thought this way , we could spend some time together..”

“By we, I hope you mean you and Hoshi.” I said drily.

“Of course. I could’ve picked another mall or something but i thought it could be a good thing if we worked at the same place... we can keep Hoshi with us and there wont be all the commuting back and forth nonsense....”

I nodded.

“I suppose you’re right. “ I sighed. “But be warned, you’re probably not going to have a very exciting time.

“I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

I nodded.

“I won’t tell you how to live your life And I most certainly won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My Ceo might just give me a huge pay raise for this. He’s been waiting for it since the time he hired me.”

Taehyung gave me a smile.

“I would have done it the minute you asked. You never asked.”

I shrugged.

“Like I said, I won’t tell you how to live your life.”

“Jang Mi?” The knock on the door made us both look up.

Jungkook stood framed in the doorway, jacket off and slung over his arms . He looked bigger than usual, muscles straining against his button down and hair mussed.

He stepped in casually, holding a hand out to Taehyung.

“The golden boy of Korea. in the flesh. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Kim. I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook”

The pair of them shook hands and I felt that I would rather be anywhere in the world than there.

“ Nice to meet you Mr. Jeon.” Taehyung smiled politely.

“We still on for tonight?” Jungkook asked casually, turning to me with a bright smile.

This is why i hated men.

Taehyung’s eyes snapped to me so fast that i was sure he must’ve got whiplash.

“Sure. I’ll call you.” I said shortly.

“What’s tonight?” Taehyung smiled, face neutral and smile still in place but his eyes flashed and his voice carried a knife edge to it.

“Business dinner. We’re going over the budget for the Christmas campaign.”

“Oh... where?” Taehyung asked with the same smile and I frowned.

“We’ve not decid-”

“I thought I could cook for you. i make a mean steak dinner and I thought I could pick up a bottle of your favorite wine on the way. You have my address right? ” Jungkook smiled.

Taehyung went still next to me, his entire body taut .

“A little inappropriate for a business dinner, don’t you think?” he snapped.

Jungkook glared back at him, eyes narrowed.

“Well, you know what they say about all work and no play-” he began but I’d had enough.

“I think this conversation needs to end now.” I said loudly.

They both shut up but glared at each other.

“I’m gonna make a reservation at the Hyatt for tonight. I’ll meet you there at seven thirty. “ I said, glaring at Jungkook.

He nodded.

“Pleasure meeting you Kim Taehyung.” He nodded curtly at my ex husband before moving away.

The silence he left behind was pretty awkward.

“Bit too much of a douchebag than your usual type.” Taehyung said casually.

I groaned.

“Don’t start.”

“ I won’t if you don’t date him.”

I opened my mouth to argue but then stopped.

“Lets just get that ice cream ? “ I said tiredly. Hoshi reappeared from the inside room, looking excited and happy and I smiled despite my weariness.

I could use a little sweetness in my life after a bitterly exhausting day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : Feedback is welcome . Probably going to be a long , terribly angsty fic with a lot of pain for everyone involved. I still haven’t decided who ocs going to end up with so we’ll see... what do you guys think?

#taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fics #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic

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