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neovisioned · 5 years ago

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♡ꜜ bed of spider webs﹫mark lee

this is part of “the spiderverse project” series ! friends - chase atlantic (nostalgia)

pairing: mark x reader (f) ft. johnny and jaehyun.

genre: angst, fluff, smut with too much plot, spiderman!mark, college!au, enemies to friends to lovers.

warnings: violence, mention of blood, language, stupid decisions, mention of drugs (johnny smokes weed in like one scene), spider bite, one short scene of attempted robbery, one short fight scene, trespassing, unprotected sex (be safe everyone), dirty talk, choking, fingering, oral, uses of spider webs during the sex scene, some praising and degradation, i think that’s it ?

word count: 26k, this is the longest thing i’ve ever written.

synopsis: where you hate Mark Lee because he’s everyone’s favourite, to both students and teachers. if there’s a number one, there’s a number two, and that’s you. however, after a strange event in a lab, his grades crush down, leaving the number one spot vacant for your very eyes, but as everyone’s favourite looks more and more miserable, you can’t help but worry about him, not knowing that he became the famous friendly neighbourhood superhero that saved you that one night.

a/n: this doesn’t take place in any particular city, don’t worry webs aren’t used for anything that kinky. also, this took so fucking long to write.

Miss Park likes to think that despite her age, she has a great memory. She finds pride in remembering most - if not all - of her student’s names, with a vague memory of their baby faces, if they were lucky enough. The now old lady also liked to think that she was a nice and soft kindergarten teacher, treating every student the same way, giving them the same amount of attention.

After all, her class was the first of many other classes and grades, and she wanted it to be a great first experience for everyone. Retired, and only possessing pictures to refresh her memory from time to time, if there’s one student the wrinkly old lady was still fond of, no matter how many years after he had left her school, it was the only Mark Lee.

In her rocking chair, she didn’t even need a picture to remember dark locks, small bangs above his soft eyes, she didn’t need anyone to remember her first meeting with the now successful college student. The lady sometimes likes to tell stories from her working days and her favourite students always have an appearance in those stories. Those stories where her eyes become bright with what looks like small tears and adoration.

See, almost sixteen years ago, the teacher was doing her job pretty well. She had the experience, knew every solution to every problem, she was one of the oldest and most respected teachers of the area, really, she was at the pick of her career. She was working in a small and one of the only kindergartens of the city, a small, one floored building in a calm area, near a public parc.

After so many years giving her energy to prepare young kids to the world, she had seen a lot. From kids saying weird things they heard once, other kids drawing almost creepy imageries, to talented and well-behaved students, she saw it all.

Most importantly, she saw a lot of what she calls “First Days”. First days of school where the mother leaves her child for the first time. She saw kids crying for their parents while they hesitated to walk back and leave, she saw kids waving to their parents with a smile while they were the one crying, she saw the loud and unstoppable crying of a child that doesn’t want to be here.

These days are all unforgettable and unique in their own way, but really, she would never forget Mark Lee’s first day.

Winter had started pretty early, that September of two thousand and two, it was cold like it was the high of winter, just after all the new year celebrations. Every kid was more or less wrapped in a large coat, every time accessories with a matching beanie and scarf, even gloves sometimes.

She remembers greeting every kid like always, offering her best smile for the best first impression, reassuring worried parents and comforting new kids. The teacher also remembers thinking that every kid had been a bit reluctant to leave their parent but none crying yet. And there he had arrived, three years old Mark Lee, looking like a miniature businessman.

To do such a job, you had to be fond of kids, but - oh, how Miss Park felt herself melt in front of the smiley, small boy. The long black coat he was wearing matched with his father’s who was readjusting his son’s backpack with an equally fond smile, giving him a few last bits of advice. The back pack was something colourful, she remembers, a blue off-brand backpack with cars on them, she could tell he was from a middle-class family, like almost every kid. She watched from afar as Mark Lee’s father went down, a knee on the floor, carefully taking a camera out of his pocket. Without complaining, small Mark Lee took place near the door, letting the teacher detail him a little bit more, giving his father his best smile as the flash went on.

That was her first memory of Mark Lee. This, alongside, his everlasting smile as he entered her class, dark, short locks bouncing at his every step he took with his brand-new white sneakers he promised his dad not to ruin, and the small wave he gave before the men left, giving both a smile to his son and his son’s new teacher, his footsteps echoing on the faux marble floor on the school.

One thing that Miss Park really liked about Mark Lee, was how helpful he was, and she saw it the first day.

Things are never calm and peaceful in a kindergarten class, especially when it’s the first day. So the lady wasn’t so shocked when she heard cries before she even saw the child making them. Echoing in the corridor, the teacher could distinguish a mother’s voice, trying to encourage her child, but never did the cries stopped.

As they got closer to her class, Miss Park gave one last look to the room. Kids were already playing at different spots, most of them were curious about the big dollhouse and the car carpet, no one was biting anyone, she could give the last child her full attention.

A look out of the door, and she immediately saw the woman in distress trying to stop her child from making a scene, rubbing her back, bouncing her body lightly, up and down. But nothing made it better, if anything, as soon as the young girl saw the outline of the class and all those kids she didn’t know, her cries were even louder. Mother greeted the teacher like she could, with an apologetic smile, teacher’s bright and reassuring smile never faded.

Miss Park doesn’t remember everything perfectly but soon enough, the crying child was in her arms as she gestured to the mother to go and leave quickly. She remembers the messy hair, she could see the attempt at a braid, the wrinkled shirt and most importantly, the big and sparkly, innocent eyes the girl had, alongside the crocodile tears rolling down her chubby cheeks.

Miss Park probably made an attempt to calm the child down, as she usually does, but what she remembers is the slight tug of her dress she felt. Delicate, a small head fisting the fabric of her flower dress as she looked down to a Mark Lee that had just finished taking off his coat and shoes.

She remembers kneeling, the small girl’s face that was hiding in her neck looking at who was bothering her comfort session but never did Mark erase his small smile, his hand handing something to the teacher. Cooing, the lady took what he was giving her, a tissue he took from his backpack, sitting just below the coat. “See, Y/N. Mark is nice, he gave you a tissue.”

Perhaps. Perhaps Mark was, or is, nice. But that doesn’t change how much you hate him, since day one. Maybe you were one of Miss Park’s favourite student, but Mark was the favourite student. See, years pass, people change, life goes by, but never did Mark stopped being the number one, leaving you the bitter second place.

He had always been every student’s favourite, boys and girls. He was good at sports, but definitely the best at dancing. He was one of the first kids chosen to be part of any team for any sport ever, people would actually fight to get the two of you in their team and somehow, after years, they knew that putting you two against each other would make a great fight for the win.

They said the dance club didn’t have a leader but he was the main men, you didn’t join the club but word has it that if you walked by the dance room when class ended, you would hear one pair of foot rhythmically tapping the floor, him and only him practised that hard. It was also said that everyone in the club would turn to him to seek advice and approval.

Imagine your shock when Mark Lee was seen on TV for some dancing competition, thankfully you don’t have a lot of memories of that time but one thing was sure. The next day, as the boy walked down the grey hallways, everyone had eyes for him and only him.

He was nice and helped everyone, he had good grades and still, somehow, was seen like a cool kid to hang out with, most people wanted to be his friend. Even though, with all the teenager movies you’ve seen, good grades and popularity aren’t compatible. You really didn’t know how he did it, but since junior high school, where the sense of competition started growing within you, you’ve had the theory that perhaps, he sold his soul to the devil for both good grades and popularity.

He even was every teacher’s favourite, always the one who could go out for the cool tasks, always the one in charge, always the one praised.

Alright, maybe you were exaggerating. You had a few great tasks too, but you still lived in Mark Lee’s shadow, or at least, you thought so. No matter what you did, he was still a bit better than you, and it was driving you insane. You could complain about him to your friends, to your family, even. Mark Lee was a name that left your mouth with venom and disgust. So obviously, when high school arrived, everyone knew you two were mortal nemesis.

Puberty took a bit of time to do its job on you, only hitting you towards the very end of high school, but it definitely didn’t forget about Mark. That’s another thing your then materialistic young mind hated about him, he had the grades, he even had the looks. Now that you think about it, it’s like he never even had an ugly period, and if somebody asked you, that was just unfair, the universe hated you.

When puberty was doing its job on Mark Lee, making him taller, his features sharp but somehow still holding pieces of his baby face, he was one of the most popular in high school, while you preferred staying out of drama and whatever popular kids do.

However, it was hard to stay completely out of drama when Mark Lee found extremely funny to remind you that he was better than you, sometimes turning around in the middle of class to show you his grade, other times going as far as waiting for you near your locker. His once innocent and kind smile had turned into an everlasting superior smirk, the one that said, I am better than you, we both know it, everyone knows it. Your competition was in the public eye.

God knows you tried to outrun him in at least one discipline. You tried dancing, even if you were good at it, he was still better, with a lot more practice. You tried getting popular, which was a lost cause before you ever tried, Mark practically ruled the school. You tried getting better grades than him, but he was always, always, one small point ahead of you.

Most of the time, unknowing teachers would be amazed by the two of you, at how you two always seemed to be the top two students, always one tiny step apart. Sometimes, they would even ask for the two of you to do a project together, to which you would always firmly and strongly disagree too, while Mark had the same smirk on his face.

However, one year, you found it. His weakness. And really, you should’ve thought about it way before. You’ve always been better than him at drawing, since kindergarten. He was so bad at art that he couldn’t colour inside the lines, he couldn’t draw one decent looking circle, he couldn’t understand the underlying meaning of a piece of art.

And finally, you found something you were better at, something he couldn’t do as perfectly as you did. Art classes quickly became your favourite classes and the original intent of outrunning him strangely faded to actual interest in every type of art.

You would never, ever admit it, but in a way, it’s because, and thanks to Mark Lee that you found your way. As he filled his inscriptions for universities specialized in the scientific field, you were filling yours with art schools, art universities. That’s why, at the end of high school, you really, really thought he was gone. Out of your sight, out of your life. No more competitions, no more Mark Lee.

But boy, you were wrong.

You’ll always remember your first day at your new university. You’ve dreamed about it, you’ve dreamed about Mingtian. You may have asked for multiple universities, you prayed to get to Mingtian, one of the continent’s top university. Everything was in your favour. You had moved out of your parent’s home, finally getting the independence you so long craved for, you had your dorm. You would make new friends, finally study something you liked, really, what could go wrong?

At first, nothing did. The weather was nice, the sun was out as you took your first step on campus, you were amazed by how big the campus was. Your first class was as amazing, you never ever liked being in class so much. And you made new friends. Yes, they weren’t in your field, but still.

You met Johnny at your local café. You were exploring the area, trying to find a place to study where you found the small café at the corner of a street, brown brinks and beige furniture. It was welcoming, the scent of coffee and pastries taking over your nose as soon as you took a step in.

Johnny was too occupied to welcome you, another worker did. However, he messed your order up and insisted on letting you get a free croissant, and that’s how the two of you became friends.

He told you he was Korean, lived for over a decade in America. He told you about his city and about his studies. You weren’t surprised when he told you he was at Mingtian, in the dorm just in front of yours. He was new as well and was studying music. Two artists meet and conversation flows easily, quickly, you two become good friends despite the differences. Johnny is the type of guy that doesn’t study until the last minute and waste every free moment partying or working on his music, but one thing is sure, he’s a good friend.

So much so that a month into the school year, when he finds out that he’s you’re only friend you’ve made yet, he insists on introducing you to his new music major friend.

Jaehyun, the other music major, was probably the sweetest person you’ve ever met. The first time you saw him at one of Johnny’s frat house party, he was screaming the lyrics of a song at the top of his lungs, the next day, he was making his mom’s secret recipe to cure any headache.

Quickly, the blond became one of your close friends, he would help you with some art project since he was extremely photogenic, and you would help him practice his vocals when Johnny was too busy working.

As said, Johnny’s frat hosted a lot of parties. If anyone heard some loud bass outside, there was a ninety-five per cent chance that it came from the infamous frat house. To be fair, when you first stepped into your new university, you didn’t think you would ever attend a frat party, but Johnny and Jaehyun both forced you to come, Johnny made it a point to introduce you to new friends every single time.

You can’t remember how many times you walked into the house, walking like a lost puppy, looking for one of your two friends submerged in a wave of college student’s body dancing to the new hit. Vision blocked by a mixture of blinding lights, artificial smoke and weed smoke before you finally found them, moulded into an old couch. You would slowly make your way to them, looking at the new friend they had that night, Johnny would finally, catch a glimpse of you and introduce you as “Y/N that doesn’t have a lot of friends.

Tonight is one of those nights.

When you walk out after waving goodbye to your dorm neighbour, you step a foot outside. It’s still the middle of winter, and you definitely feel it as a cold wind doesn’t need much force to pass through your white blouse. The sky is starting to get dark, the lights of the campus would light up at any moment, and you just figure you should walk to the frat house quickly. Closing your coat in front of your chest, you take quick steps around the campus. It’s surprisingly quiet outside, the heels of your boots hitting the ground at your every step. For once, you actually wanted to go to that party, which was a first. After a full week of finals, you needed to relax a bit, and what was better than a party with your friends.

The lights flicker a moment, before lightening the ground and the grass around the few frat houses. From afar, you can see a few college students having an anti-party in front of the doors, their silhouettes visible every time the colourful lights cast on them. You can’t really make up the song until you’re a few meters away from the house, where one of the members greet you. See, you may not have a lot of friends like Johnny says, but he doesn’t see that he actually made you a bit more popular, at least more popular than you were in high school.

The smell of alcohol and weed take over your senses as you enter the house, squinting your eyes, trying to distinguish a few faces. You know the house pretty well now, making your way towards the living room, you have to stand on your toes to find Johnny. You can’t see if Jaehyun’s here, but you don’t think too much anyways and make your way towards the back of the room.

Sweaty bodies still affect you as much as they did when you first entered a party, holding your hands up to create something that imitates your comfort zone as you navigate between drunk students. Dodging hands and unsteady red cups, once you get to the other side of the dancefloor, you pass by a few other students as Johnny finally notices you.

“Y/N !” You hear his voice before even reaching him, having to abruptly stop as two girls run up the stairs. “Everyone, this is Y/N, she doesn’t have a lot of friends here.”

At this, you were supposed to roll your eyes and deny, like you’ve been doing for the past five parties or so, but once the path clears in front of you and you finally take in exactly who’s sitting next to your friend, you freeze.

“Fancy seeing you here.”, is the first thing he says. There, sitting next to your friend, in your friend’s frat house, in your university, is none other than Mark Lee. God knows you didn’t miss that smirk, and it didn’t change at all. His pink lips match the rose hue that colour his cheeks, probably because of the alcohol or the heat. Tugging upwards to hide half of his eyes, his pupils stay locked on your figure, a few dark brown locks falling in front of his eyes. You notice that he changed his hairstyle, parted in the middle, showing his glowy skin. He’s wearing a loose shirt, collarbones showing as one of his arm’s behind the couch, the other stretched on his leg as he holds a cup as well.

Reacting quite slowly, Johnny’s eyes move between you, still standing there, and his new medicine student friend.

“Oh, you know her ?”, he finally asks, stretching his hand out so you can take it. You hesitate for a moment, suddenly you really, really don’t want to be here. Even, why is he here? You forgot about him, in a few months only, you thought he was gone for good, doing god knows what in another city.

Johnny gives you a questioning look, and for a good reason. You’re here, looking at Mark like he’s an apparition, an apparition of your past, and him, he’s looking at you with a smile, way too proud of himself. You can’t run away, Johnny would probably drag you back, so you have to act normal, you figure. You didn’t know your mouth was slightly open before you close it to swallow your saliva, and you grab Johnny’s hand before he tugs you towards him.

“I think I’ve seen her around my high school a few times, I’m not quite sure.”, Mark responds, a smile still clear only his lips only for you to see as you let Johnny guide your body, forcing you on his lap. The audacity, he really dared to act like he hasn’t known you for almost all his life, a few sits away at every class.

If Mark could take a picture of this very moment, he definitely would. The way your eyes look round and big like the first time he ever saw you and for once, it’s like you’re missing some words to finally respond, really this party started out great for him, he really didn’t regret coming.

A small laugh moves his chest, taking a moment to take in your figure, curious eyes scanning over you both and Johnny, the same glint he has dancing in his eyes since he was a child. He stays silent for a moment, he wonders for a moment if you’re the girl Johnny had been talking about for the past week and unconsciously, you get a bit more comfortable on his lap.

That’s how you figured out Mark Lee was still somehow in your school. And you should’ve thought about it, really. Mingtian is a well-known university, it’s as big as a small city, the scientific course is one of the best in the whole country. You should’ve known that he had applied here as well, but you can’t really blame yourself, can you? Even if you knew he also got accepted here, the chances to bump into him reminded so, so slim. The scientific department was at one end of the university, the art side a completely other end. But he had to be there, he had to know two of your closest friends, and he had to befriend them.

Your theory’s that he befriended them just to annoy you, and it worked.

Mark started hanging out with Johnny and Jaehyun even more, and of course, the two wanted you to tag along. You didn’t want to risk losing them just because of him so after a bit of argumentation and a lot, a lot of talking to yourself, you agreed.

At first, it was just some Saturday nights spent in either Johnny’s or Jaehyun’s dorm room, a random movie playing in the background and mostly university gossip about people you barely know filling the room. You have to say that you prefer those nights in Jaehyun’s room, Johnny has the habit to smoke a lot during the weekends, you always end up leaving the dorms with your clothes smelling like weed and having to justify yourself to everyone you encounter.

You also like Jaehyun’s room better because he can open his bed and make more place and two more really comfortable big cushions. Most of the time, you’re on the bed with either Jaehyun or Johnny, Mark standing as far away as possible.

At first, you had to say that you really thought you’d end up jumping at Mark’s throat after the first few hours, but strangely enough, he was civilized. Never did he mention your weird phases during middle-high school, never did he throw any major shade, making those nights a lot more enjoyable than you thought.

However, the competition still remains, even though you two are in two different fields. You like to think that art isn’t about learning every by heart but rather feeling and understanding, voicing your opinion with argumentation and that medicine is more about pushing everything in your head, just learning again and again. Mark doesn’t understand that, or rather he understands when he wants. He understands that your work might be a bit hard when he gets a grade lower than yours, he doesn’t when he gets a grade higher than yours, but never will he admit that.

Remember about the coffee shop? It quickly became your spot to study. Small and quiet, your friend worked there, which meant a lighthearted pause every now and then, their pastries also rapidly became a guilty pleasure. They were pricy, sure, but oh how you loved spending a bit of your money in one of their black chocolate éclair, or one of their cups of vanilla coffee.

However, Mark quickly heard about the shop. After all, his friend worked there so wouldn’t he come by a few times, when his oh so busy schedule allowed it. Sometimes, he sat near the window, never too close from him since again, the shop was small, sometimes he came right during Johnny’s pause and had to tag along and ended up on your table. One thing was sure, he never ever missed a chance to shove his newest grade in your face.

Strangely, seeing him became less and less weird. On your part, you became less tense around him, actually making small talk here and there for Johnny and Jaehyun’s biggest joy, but never did it erase the everlasting competition and the underlying hatred you two had for each other, it was just, hidden.

Johnny and Jaehyun were easily fooled, thinking that the initial weird tension between the two of you had slowly fated, they started making plans for what the called “friend dates.” The first one was planned by Johnny who found a cheap but rather interesting and promising restaurant near the university, and that’s how you ended up in this Italian restaurant.

A yawn escaped your lips before you could even hide it behind your hand, both your arms stretched above your hands as you leaded back on your chair. A small smiled was offered by Johnny while Jaehyun was going back from his phone placed on the small iron table to his position, arm behind his chair as he looked behind his back, scanning the area.

You don’t really know if it was a restaurant or more a place with a lot of small restaurants, either way, it was really pretty, you had to admit. Slow European songs were playing, lights hanging everywhere, carpets with different designs everywhere. It smelled like pasta and pizza, as cliché as it sounds and most importantly, it was crowded. So crowded.

It took around ten minutes to find a four places table, and now that you were sitting down, on this Friday night, it took everything in your system to not fall asleep right here and now. Jaehyun was, on the other hand, too hyper. Looking everywhere, checking his phone every two minutes, he didn’t hesitate to throw a few insults here and there as Mark was getting more and more late.

“Where is he ?“, asked Johnny again, yet never losing his patience.

“I don’t know, he isn’t answering his phone and this kid NEVER leaves it.”, for a moment you wonder if he’s actually upset or if he’s exercising his acting skills, the pout on his lower lip more and more prominent.

“Wait a few minutes, I’ll go to his dorm if he doesn’t show up.” You and Jaehyun nod at this, only to be cut by heavy footsteps of someone running. Even with all the people and all the general noise, your attention gets caught by the few people complaining about someone pushing them without even giving a single apology.

Jet black hair comes bouncing at his every step, a not so apologetic smile contorting his features whenever his shoulder bumps into someone by mistake. You’ve never seen him this happy, his lips stretching up soon as he finally sees the three of you, his eyes disappearing for a moment. Before he reaches your table, you notice the paper he’s carefully holding in his hands, sometimes holding it to his chest or up in the air whenever someone might damage it.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, notices the phone his holding in his other hand, the one he didn’t care to check for the past ten minutes.

No matter how questioning your looks are, never did his smile fade, both his hands slapping the iron table as soon as he reached it.

“Finally, we were about to call the police and report a missing child.”, was the first thing the blonde found appropriate to say, even though it was well obvious the brunette has something important to say. Nevertheless, his smile never faded as he took a few seconds to catch his breath, his head hanging low for a moment.

“Mark, take a seat.”, Johnny finally spoke, gesturing to the seat right between the second music major and you.

Flopping without any grace on the grey chair, Mark finally sat down, his respiration a bit steadier, he flipped the white paper over.

“Guess who just got a one-week internship in the continent’s biggest laboratory ?”

An internship in the continent’s biggest laboratory. Jaehyun’s pout somehow disappeared after a few seconds just to congratulate the lucky boy, Johnny stayed true to himself and got excited as if he was the one who got the internship. You had to congratulate him, it would look weird right, if you didn’t congratulate your so-called friend, plus you didn’t want to bring the mood down just because of a bit of bitterness. You found yourself congratulating him almost naturally, if it wasn’t for the tight smile you gave him and the full one he returned, you really didn’t get the chance to see him a lot like this back in the days.

After the initial mixture of shock, joy and excitement came down, you finally all got up to get something to eat in this big place, finally settling down as Johnny decided to bring a toast to Mark with his sunset cocktail.

For once, you weren’t really jealous, after all, you were well placed to know that Mark worked hard to get that internship, you were just a foot away when Johnny made him act his interview out at least once a week to make sure it was perfect. Finally, the tense smile left for a sincere one, who were you to hold grudges from years ago and spit on your friend’s, or almost friend’s, success.

At some point in the night, way too many cocktails were drowned and tested, with alcohol or without, at the end of the night the three boys were at least a bit tipsy, you were at least buzzed by their loud discussion and laughs. You know your teenage self would be screaming at you, but here’s the thing, you aren’t a teenager anymore, you’re a young adult, as they like to call you, and you want to behave like so.

Your hand finds Mark’s arm, catching his attention as you lightly tap the fabric of his shirt. The white button-up he was wearing for the interview was starting to get wrinkled, but he certainly didn’t care, his sleeves pushed up, the way he didn’t even fold them were making you slightly anxious.

You almost laughed at the puzzled look he gave you for a moment, a smile stretched your lips as you finally spoke. “Congrats on the internship, Mark.”

One thing was sure, Mark had a lot of hope for this internship. After all, the fact that he worked there for a week looked good on his student’s dossier, but if they also added that he worked hard and well, that could be an important point for a future employer. Maybe he dreamed a bit too much, after all, he was on his first year but, if they saw that he worked hard and most importantly, was serious and had potential, maybe they would keep him in mind after he graduated.

Needless to say, Mark was putting a lot of hope in this. On his first day, he wore some formal clothes, something similar to the button-up he wore for the interview and he swore he couldn’t stop smiling when they gave him the white blouse and a little tag with “Mark Lee” written on it.

The laboratory was huge, even after a month he was sure he could get lost in it but luckily for him, someone took him under their wing. Doyoung had been working there for almost two years now, he made sure to make Mark visit everything the first day, would sit with him during lunch and introduce him to his friends. Doyoung knew what he was doing, he knew he was giving the brunette a chance to make contacts and perhaps play with them after he graduated. The men quickly grew fond of Mark, actually seeing a younger him in the boy.

On the first day, he didn’t get to do a lot, but it was good enough. After all, they made important things there, like drugs, and if he messed up, a lot of people would suffer from it. He knew he wouldn’t get to play with some experiments but watching was already a great experience for him.

After three days, Mark didn’t miss the opportunity to loudly enter the coffee shop pretty late in the afternoon, the only day his internship allowed him to get out early, not that he actually wanted to leave as soon as possible. For a good hour or two, he explained everything about the building, what they did and what he saw, no need to say that when he started talking about some experience they were doing for some new drug and what chemicals they were using, your art student self, the two music student didn’t quite catch everything. But being the good friends you three were, you would nod and listen anyways.

You have to say your interest got poked when he mentioned the closed room he didn’t visit yet, apparently, they kept small animals there to test drugs on them.

“Animal testing.”, you simply said, the tone in your voice enough to project your opinion on the subject.

“They’re actually trying to reduce animal testing until at some point, they’ll just stop doing it.”, Mark said, taking a sip of his black tea, the same he drank every time he stayed a bit at the coffee shop, glancing over at Jaehyun. The boy was big on cruelty-free products and even had one of Lush’s bags to prove it, one of his eyebrows raising, telling him to continue.

“Basically they’re testing on spiders right now, but as time goes by they’ll start testing on cells and human tissue.”, he said, almost too casually. What he didn’t say though, was that he asked about animal testing to Doyoung just to inform you and Jaehyun. Yes, he also was against animal testing but he knew the two of you were a lot, lot more passionate by the subject.

“Wait, spiders ?”, you asked, after you finished your cup of chocolate. You didn’t even know testing on spiders were a thing, you knew about rat, mouse, and rabbit. Maybe you didn’t really hold spiders close to your heart but it didn’t mean you couldn’t feel bad for them, not now that you knew some weird drug were being tested on them just for humans.

“Yeah, the room I was talking about earlier, that’s where they keep them. Doyoung said he would show me tomorrow and I don’t know if I’m more excited or completely terrified to be in a room with like, thousands of different spiders.”

“Can you imagine if someone like, leaves the door open and all the spiders escape.”, that’s the only thing Johnny found appropriate to say, a noise of disgust coming from both you and Jaehyun and you were sure he felt the same shiver run down his spine as you looked at Johnny in horror, who didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Everything’s pretty secured there, not a single chance that a spider could escape his box, even less the whole fucking troupe guys.”

And oh, if he knew.

Mark liked to think that he was a rather cautious young man, for a lack of better words. He always looked both ways before crossing, he was always cautious when driving, he never got in any sticky situations, but really, he couldn’t know what was coming.

As he was standing in front of the white door, he waited like the good student he was for Doyoung. Now that he took the time to think about it, he could really see himself working here, some people already knew him, greeting him as they walked by. Deep down he was anticipating the last day, but he would cherish this week and all the opportunities he had the chance to have.

“Good afternoon Mark.”, Doyoung’s voice could be heard from the other end of the corridor, lightly singing the college student’s name. His pitch-black hair were a bit messy, which was particularly strange for the men who was always clean on his image. The sleeves of his white blouse had been crunched up to his elbows, and only then did Mark remember that Doyoung had a reunion for a new drug right before.

A polite smile stretched the boy’s lips as he turned to face the one he considered his mentor now, putting his hand forward so he could shake his.

“Alright, the reunion’s not over yet so, I’m going to unlock the door for you because I trust you. But Mark, make sure to push the door when you leave and it’ll lock itself.”

Only then did Mark notice the way his eyebrows furrowed for a moment, he didn’t dare ask him to stay or even talk about his reunion, not with how quickly he whipped his card out of his pocket, scanning the back. His thumb quickly tapped in the code he seemed to remember by heart, before pushing the door and taking a step back.

“Or you l-“, started Mark, never getting the chance to finish his sentence.

“I have to go kiddo, be careful and don’t let them run away.”, as the only thing he said before walking away, throwing finger guns at the youngest before quickly walking back to the reunion. Really out of his usual state.

Alright, maybe that’s not how Mark imagined his day, after all, he never entered any room without anyone’s supervision, he doubted that Doyoung wasn’t breaking some rule by letting him, a young college student, in a room full of spiders with God knows what in their system. The boy even took a few seconds to rip his eyes away from the figure of the brunette quickly walking away, not quite realizing until the corridor went silent as his footsteps faded away.

Mark didn’t really want to stay in that room alone, he wanted someone to tell him about the species and they were used for, but now he was sure he would just look at them for a few minutes before walking away. When finally, he dared looking at the unlocked door, he at least had to say that it was quite intriguing, from afar. The blue hue coming from the slightly opened door had the power to spike his curiosity, what sounded like a powerful AC helping the room to stay rather fresh.

After all, if it was opened, he could at least give it a look, right? Shrugging his shoulders to himself, his hand easily pushed the wooden door, revelling the squarish room to the college student. Surprisingly, the room wasn’t too blue, he could at least see in front of him, make out the numerous cages, vivarium for the spiders. At first, he didn’t see them. His head to the side, Mark took the first step in, being careful not to close the door behind him, afraid he would lock himself in. Against each wall, he could count three lines of four vivariums, all the same size. They all looked quite the same, some sand or some dirt, some plants and a branch.

Nothing out of the ordinary, really.

His attention first got caught by the way the light danced on his skin, how his rings would catch the blue neon. The room was fairly silent, aside from the vibrating sound of the AC, he took a few footsteps, getting in the middle of the room. At first, it looked like all the vivariums were empty, only when he walked a bit more did he notice some movement.

Keeping his hands behind his back, Mark got curious for a moment. Behind one large wooden branch, at first, he didn’t see anything before a black spider’s legs finally made its way on the piece of tree. The college student didn’t really flinch, he never had a fear for spiders so he didn’t even need to be afraid when they were safely locked in these boxes.

When finally, the spider showed itself, not paying any attention to the men in front of its house, Mark had to say that at least, he never saw any spider that looked like that. Pitch black, he was sure the spider wasn’t noticeable in the dark, making it even more dangerous. Long, skinny legs, a red dot was in the middle of its small body.

Looking for anything with a bit of information, Mark searched around the box, nothing really showed the name of the spider of its species, maybe they stored the documents on top of the boxes, he wondered for a moment. He was tall enough to reach the top of the vivariums, but he couldn’t quite see it. Getting a bit closer to the box, he made sure to not leave any fingerprints on the glass before getting on his toes, his hand flat on the top.

Mark could make the opening of the vivarium, making sure to avoid it, he searched for a few seconds more but never did his hand bump into any paper. His hand did bump into something, but he didn’t know what, not paying much attention before passing his hand one last time. He didn’t hide his deception when he couldn’t find anything, his eyes getting lost for a moment in the vivarium in front of him. On his toes, he could see almost everything in the box, but strangely, he didn’t see any spider.

Looking for a moment from side to side, he could see the other spiders, every one different from the other. One finally got his attention, yellowish body, but before he could even look at the insect a bit more, a small gasp escaped his lips. Immediately taking his hand away, Mark tumbled backwards, almost bumping into the stacks of vivarium behind him. Confused look contorted his features as he took a moment to realize. His hand probably touched a loose piece of metal, his skin probably getting hurt on the sharp object, right? Under the blue light, his blood looked almost black, the two dots so noticeable on the skin of his palm.

Two dots, two dots. The skin around the two holes seemed to burn, his hand growing numb. His eyes widen in realization, they didn’t miss the small black object moving on the floor, looking a bit lost. Mark almost lifted his feet to crush the animal, now that he was looking at it a bit more, it wasn’t black, but brown. He must’ve bitten him and was still on his hand when he backed away, the fall was probably really disorientating for the spider.

Mark couldn’t believe his eyes, one of the spiders had escaped. A curse escaped his lips, his hand flat on the wound, making sure to not leave any trace of blood on the floor. For a quick second, he didn’t really know what to do, his heart was still calming down from the pain of the bite, his mind not quite cooperating after realizing he had one of these spiders in front of him.

He had to think quickly, and leave as quickly. His valid hand took a tissue from his back pocket, one he always carried with him. Not thinking twice, he threw the fabric on the spider before it could run away again, and before it could escape the dark prison, Mark quickly picked it up, almost running to the vivarium.

The college student’s eyes couldn’t leave his dorm’s selling, the index of his left hand tracing the homemade bandage he had for his wound. After what happened, Mark quickly ran to the bathroom, making sure no one was there. He wasn’t sure what he risked, after all, he didn’t let the spider escape, it escaped on its own, but he didn’t want to put Doyoung in trouble for letting him, a young college student, all alone in such a place.

Maybe it was too late and maybe it was unnecessary but he bought his lips to his mound anyway, sucking to blood before spitting, he saw that in a documentary once. He wasn’t even sure if the spider was dangerous, sure he was a bit lightheaded from the chock but his body didn’t seem to react.

He didn’t want anyone to know what happened in that room, he didn’t want it to be heard, so he acted like nothing happened. He made sure to close the door behind him and even stayed a bit more before finally going back to his dorm.

Everything was normal, really, at least he tried to convince himself. He quickly walked back to his dorm, made some food, slipped into his more comfortable clothes. He had been eating pasta for the past week and decided to switch it up for some ramen that night, picking his grey sweatpants and a random hoodie before getting under his blanket, tomorrow was his day off and he could treat himself to some Netflix and fall asleep as late as he wanted as long as it wasn’t after the break of dawn.

Really, everything was normal, he almost forgot about the bite, if it wasn’t for exactly three episodes into Umbrella Academy, around one in the morning. Mark’s wound started itching, at first he didn’t pay much attention, he didn’t want to. But the more he ignored it, the more he felt like the wound was burning, more than it did when the spider bit him.

Lightly, his fingernails scratched the bandage, he didn’t want to hurt himself even more but the itching was so annoying and loud that he unconsciously clenched his jaw, the bone enlightens by his laptop screen. He had to say, he might have panicked a bit when his heart started beating loudly in his ribcage, his ears growing hot, he couldn’t even hear the soft dialogue of his episode.

The more time passed, the more his focus on his screen faded, he couldn’t even pay attention to what was happening as he tried to control his breathing. Under his sweatshirt, his chest was moving up and down irregularly, was he having a panic attack? It never happened to him, but somehow he knew it wasn’t that, it was something else. Cold sweat appeared on his hairline, and that’s when he really started panicking.

Moving his laptop to the side, the screen almost hit the wall of his dorm room, moving his blanket away to completely expose his body to the cold air of the night but it didn’t even change anything. His feet on the floor didn’t even help to regulate his body temperature, neither did the half bottle of water he drowned in seconds.

Something was wrong, but never did Mark felt like giving in the panic. His hand quickly found his phone lost in his huge blanket, activating his flashlight, he was quick to raise on his feet, putting aside the way he felt lightheaded and almost dizzy at how quickly he got up.

He didn’t even know if he had the right to walk outside of his room at this hour, to be frank he didn’t really read the rules of his dorm but he needed to go to the bathroom anyway, he needed to splash some water on his face and stop this panic.

The whole process to go to the building’s bathroom was a blur, thankfully he didn’t come across anything and he quickly got a hold of the faucet, letting the water run for a moment. His eyes took a moment to get familiar to the white artificial light of the room, the white walls not making anything to help.

Strangely, he didn’t look weird, nothing was strange about his face, about his appearance. Yes, he looked a bit panicked, a bit sweaty but he didn’t get any allergic reaction so why did he feel so…weird, so bad? He starred at his figure for a moment. He had to stop giving in to the panic, he had to think rationally, maybe he ate something bad, maybe the ramens weren’t good anymore, maybe he needed sleep. After all, he had a few rough and full days, maybe staying up late wasn’t a good idea. Yes, it was probably something like that.

Bringing his hands under the water running down, he looked at it for a moment. Breathe in, breathe out, before he brought his hands to his face. The cold water sure helped calming his features, his jaw relaxing, it helped cool his temperature.

A sigh left his lips, his shoulders relaxing as he shook his hands, he needed to calm down. His attention got caught once again by the white, homemade bandage, thinking for a few seconds. With the water, the sticky fabric started lifting up from his skin. He just wanted to check, see if it had gotten worse, so the sleepy college student quickly took the bandage off, he could make a new one if he needed to. For a second, he really thought he was sleepy, for a moment.

The wounds were gone.

[6:39 PM] Jaehyun: Hey dumbass, you’re almost 40 minutes late, where are you?

Mark doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even know where his phone is. The vibrations make it sound like his phone’s everywhere at the same time, he almost feels them in his spine, both his hands closing around his ears.

[6:55 PM] Jaehyun: We’ll wait five minutes, not a minute more so you better get your ass here quickly.

The college student desperately tries to understand where he is for a moment, he just woke up in a cold sweat yet again, but he doesn’t even remember falling asleep. His mind is still fogged by sleep, or rather the lack of it. Strangely, the floor’s clean, weirdly clean.

[7:05 PM] Jaehyun: Hey, are you ok?

He doesn’t even know himself.

It’s been a few days since the bite, but he didn’t really keep track since his internship ended. Since he left the laboratory, he didn’t feel like himself anymore. Truth be told, when the wounds disappeared, he just brushed it off, maybe he bled a little and the wounds were too small for him to see and he didn’t want to become paranoid over such a small incident. But he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt, different. Waking up in a cold sweat became too familiar, he would run to the bathroom and had to change his clothes at least once every night. He quickly ran out of clothes to wear, forcing him to do his laundry multiple times a week.

He didn’t know if nightmares would wake him up, he didn’t remember his dreams, it felt like he didn’t dream at all and just woke up tangled in his sheets, in a pool of his sweat, completely disoriented every time. At first, he thought he was sick, but he didn’t have any fever despite the weird feeling of being slightly out of your body and seeing things your mind creates to trick you.

As the days went by, his muscles felt more and more sore. It started with his arms, at first he thought it was because he forgot to stretch after his sport session, but arms day was last week. It spread to his shoulders, tense and back arched, he only felt at ease when he was resting, laying. Quickly, his legs didn’t resist, and yesterday he couldn’t even study for more than an hour before he felt like all his resources left his body.

He fell asleep on his desk so quickly, all the will in his body couldn’t even keep him awake for more than a few minutes. Once again, dreamless night, he woke up in the dead of the night, cold sweat collecting on his forehead. Really, these past days only left the shadow of who Mark once was. He barely ate, slept a lot, didn’t get any work done. Even when he slept, he barely got any peace or any energy, he barely felt less sleepy.

All of this, all of this was strange and unusual for him. Mark Lee has always been an energic kid, an energetic men. Never did he ever felt so tired, so out of everything. Mark rather was the type to work even more after school, he had a lot of energy and everyone knew about it, from his parents to his teachers. At first, he tried to stay calm and find some rational reason. After all, he just started college and it was pretty stressed, he had to admit even if he didn’t like to give in to stress, he just finished a week-long internship where he had a few missions, so really, it must be that. It could be it but this, this right now, was not normal at all.

When finally, the sleep started fading away, small eyes taking the fading sunlight in, only then did Mark found that he was a bit more alive. For once in a few days, his body didn’t feel sore, he could stretch a bit and his muscles wouldn’t scream at him. He could fully breathe in, take a deep breath in and look out the window. It was still pretty early but the sun was weirdly down… His eyes narrowed for a moment as a yawn escaped his lips, one of his hands rubbing his eyes. His head tilted to the side, was the building in front of him…upside down?

He almost laughed, before looking up. That’s when a scream escaped his lips, completely uncontrolled, panicked wide eyes took in his room, just like he left it but upside down. He almost pinched himself, what type of dream was that, he looked again at his room before his eyes focused on his feet.

He was on his ceiling.

And as soon as he realized, taking in his ceiling and the way the sunshine filtered through his blinds from way too close, he fell down. The loud sound echoed in his room, alongside his whine as he rolled on his side, the college student didn’t know but his carpet and thick blanket he left on the floor managed to absorb a bit of the pain. Whines escaped his lips for a few more seconds as his hands pressed on his arms, he was sure to have bruises there and on his sides, staying there for a few moments.

“What the fuck.”, what the fuck just happened, what the fuck was that? He was on his ceiling, just moments before, he was up there. He didn’t imagine it, it wasn’t a dream, he saw the way the building in front of him was upside down, he saw his bedroom from up there. He couldn’t explain it but he knew he wasn’t hallucinating, he had bruises to prove it, the way he fell in the middle of his room and how bad his arm ached told him he didn’t simply fell from his bed.

“Hey, Mark. Are you ok ?”, a voice came from the door, he couldn’t mistake the voice of Johnny. He certainly wanted to check up on him, heard his body falling from a few meters, or his whines, and wanted to check. The room fell silent for a minute, Mark needing time to register the situation and find how he would respond. He knocked a few times on the thin wooden door, as thin as the walls clearly, and the young men called for his friend again.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, don’t worry !”, he, himself, wasn’t convinced at all. His voice was somehow still sleepy, shaking slightly. He managed to get up on his elbows, having trouble to even flip on his stomach to face the door.

“Do you need help ?”, asked Johnny, sounding worried. Clearly, he didn’t believe what Mark said in the slightest. The thing is, after months of friendship, Mark had a key to Johnny’s room and Jaehyun’s room, which ultimately meant that Johnny probably had a key to Mark’s room as they were speaking. Whatever was happening right now, whatever was going on with him, his body or his mind, Mark didn’t want anyone to see it. Both ashamed and scared, him, the well put together from the group, didn’t even want his close friends to see his bruised and tired, sleepy body down on the floor for some reason, he didn’t want anyone to see the bags under his eyes and the way they were big with a mixture of both fear and shock. He was scared, scared of what was going on, he didn’t want to talk about it to anyone before he, himself, figured it out.

“No, no don’t worry. I’m just tired and…I need sleep.”, was the only thing he managed to get out, his legs kicking his blanket away without any successful result. At his voice, he was sure his friend could tell something was going on inside that room.

“Mark, don’t lie to me.”, the music major said, sounding a bit disappointed. After all, he was his friend and he couldn’t bear having him lying so blatantly and skipping a friend date without a reason. Before he could even respond, Mark heard the distinct noise of a key sliding in his bedroom’s door, understanding quickly that he wasn’t planning on letting him get away so easily.

Without even understanding, his right hand lifted up. It was just a reflex, he didn’t think it would stop his friend from entering his room, it was just a vain attempt but as soon as his hand lifted, guided towards the door, a white string shot out quicker than he could understand. If his eyes weren’t already wide, they were probably about to pop out. Right in front of his eyes, a white, thick spider web-linked the door to the wall, keeping it from opening. Mouth agape, Mark watched almost horrified as his friend tried to open the door but kept struggling to push it, not knowing what was the problem.

“What the fuck.”

See, Mark Lee is a smart boy. From day one, he used to get those star stickers in kindergarten, he would get high grades in junior high school, always staying at the top of his class and unlike his classmates, his grades didn’t crash once in high school. Somehow, he managed to keep his grades impressively high while keeping a social life. Maybe he had to work a bit more at the start of college but after all, it was superior studies, he had to work. He was also a smart boy outside of studies, so really, when he couldn’t understand what was wrong with him, he couldn’t help but feel extremely frustrated.

For a good hour after Johnny left, slightly hurt and even more worried, the college student spent a good part of the beginning of the night trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with him. He pinched himself a few times, he tried to wake up but deep down he knew he was already awake, from the moment he saw the sun upside down. He knew he was awake, yet he couldn’t believe his eyes.

When his body finally allowed it, he raised to his feet, checking his body. Nothing. Not a bruise, not even a red-ish area, it was like nothing happened yet again. Maybe then, he would’ve given in to the idea that he was hallucinating, if only he didn’t have the huge spider web in front of his eyes to prove that something was going on. Hesitant fingers traced the spider web. It came from his hand, or his fingers, he didn’t know, but he put two and two together.

Believe himself or believe science and all he learned so far. If he believed what his teachers, what everyone told him for those past twenty years, he feared he might go crazy. Nothing, no book, no specialist, nothing and no one could explain what was going on with his body. If he believed himself, he took the risk to be seen as a crazy person, a freak, a delusional. But after all, he saw what he could do with his body now, great things, but scary things. If he believed himself, he had to understand by himself, and that’s what he chose.

When finally, after a long night of sleep which was surprisingly helpful, he finally texted you, Johnny and Jaehyun to reassure the three of you, he finally decided to understand things by himself, he almost lost all reason. See, Mark never really skipped class without a good reason. He was the type to skip maybe once or twice a year, only when he was really sick or had some family emergency, that week, he skipped all his classes. Of course, he made sure to tell his teachers, talking about some cold he got after the internship that ultimately resulted in him being stuck to his bed, he managed to someone build a good enough relationship between most his teachers that they all excused him for the week.

Mark wasn’t really happy about it, he didn’t like skipping class, he knew that at the end of it all he would’ve had stacks of documents and papers and classes to learn, but if what he saw was real, if what he did wasn’t the result of sleepless nights, paranoia and stress, then he couldn’t go out before he understood everything.

Feeding himself with junk food and leftovers, his workout routine was thrown out the window. He didn’t know how, he just knew it had to do with the spider bite, obviously. But he googled, and even read articles about that specific spider that bite him and it was essentially harmless. Yes, maybe it was a bit itchy and would hurt for the first few minutes but after reading all the articles about it from the first three pages of google, Mark could confidently say that a bite from this spider wouldn’t result in hallucinations, fever, cold sweat, anything he experienced. One box was checked.

He thought about going back to the laboratory, but without the pass they took from him on the last day, it was impossible, he just had to deal with that alone for the moment. He then, after hours of researches on spiders, remembered the bite and bruises. His body and skin were undamaged. He knew, it was just logical for him to have at least a bruise on the arm and side he fell, yet nothing was there. He could touch, press, pinch, he felt nothing, ending up with him crossing another box. Maybe it was the hours of researches, the hours of torturing his mind and turning his brain just to understand what was wrong with him, but somewhere in the night between the first and second day, he decided he would check one of his theories.

His scientific mind told him it was impossible, he would probably end up in the hospital or seriously injured, but after all, his scientific mind wasn’t much help these past few days so he decided to push the thought to the side. Just a knife would be enough, a small cut on his finger he could pass as a simple domestic incident if someone asked about it. Somewhere in the night, in the middle of the campus, Mark sat exactly where he fell. Everything was silent, everyone was pretty much about to fall asleep or studying as he could see all the lights slowly going off one by one room, in the building in front of him. The cold breeze coming from his window faded the sweat collecting on his skin away as he stared a moment at the knife. He was probably going crazy, but he needed to do it, these thoughts kept coming and coming as he took a look around him, papers around his body where he noted all his experiences.

He didn’t think twice, he had to look up as he quickly brushed the cutting knife on the skin of his finger. At least, it wasn’t as bad as a paper cut, the pain wasn’t so bad, perhaps a little hiss escaped his lips as he added a band-aid, but he could deal with it. Quickly, the blood could be seen through the cotton, at least he knows he was really hurt, had a real wound. With his second hand, he grabbed his phone, almost dying, with one swift motion he opened the camera, not paying attention to the message he got. Yes, it was weird, but Mark was ultimately just working on an experiment, and he needed proof and documents to work on. If tomorrow morning, his wound was still there, he would probably put himself in a hospital.

The sigh that left his lips was loud and clear, letting his back hit his bed, only then did he look a bit more at his phone. He had a few messages from the group chat both the one with a few of his classmates and the other with you, Jaehyun and Johnny. But he also had a private one from none other than you.

[10:23 PM] Y/N: Hey, how are you feeling?

Mark started at the screen for a moment. The men was slightly delusional, Mark was the type of person who thought no one really cared about him, or just because of manners. Sure, you, Jaehyun and Johnny expressed some concerns in the group chat which he quickly brushed off but he didn’t know you cared enough to text him privately. Weirdly, it kind of makes him feel good, like he wasn’t really alone. Only when the blue bubbles appeared on the screen, disappeared again, before popping up again did he understand that you were typing and erasing, just like he was doing.

[10:25 PM] Mark: Hey, I’m feeling the same to be honest.

And just as he sent the text, you sent one too, a small smile stretching his lips at the message.

[10:25 PM] Y/N: I made some soup today, want some ?

The thing is, you two never saw each other one on one, at least not in the past ten years. Yes, you two got a bit closer, and a lot more civilized since high school but so much more is happening right now, as Mark started yet again at the screen, not knowing what to answer.

You, on the other side, the building just in front of Mark’s dorm, stare at your screen just like he is doing at that exact moment. You can’t really believe yourself but, you do worry about him. You’re kind of obligated to, too, especially when both Jaehyun and Johnny seem pretty worried about the young college student.

See, you’ve also known the men all your life, so when you heard he would be missing for one of your friend dates and that Johnny heard something, someone falling down in his dorm room, you were sure it was the satanic ritual to keep both popularity and good grades. You weren’t too worried at first, since you had to skip a friend date but when you heard the was skipping a whole, and an entire week of school, you couldn’t help but be surprised.

You remember back in high school when he skipped two days in a row and how happy you felt to finally have a few days to breathe, but now, now that you two are somehow between friends and ex-enemies, you really can’t help but wonder. To add to everything, you didn’t tell Johnny or Jaehyun, but from your room, you had a small view on Mark’s window. Sure, you didn’t see anything, but you saw how his light was always on, it seemed like he wasn’t sleeping, you remember seeing his lights on when you were about to go to sleep and at four in the morning when you needed to go to the bathroom. Even at six in the morning, when you just woke up, his lights were still on.

Perhaps you and Mark didn’t get that along for most of your lives, but you knew he was the type to keep to himself, to not tell anyone what he going through, and again, the fact that he skipped an entire week, refused to see Johnny and seemed to not sleep at all only added to your sense of worry.

That day, you decided to make some soup, both for you who got a cold after your friend date, but also for Mark. Usually, you made food for you only, you rarely had leftovers, but even if your teenager self was screaming at you for the gesture, you had to get used to the idea that you and Mark were friends, and friends look out for each other. It was both an attempt to clarify that you didn’t really hold any grudges against him after all, but also in hopes of making him feel better that you added the Thai soup to a bowl, wrapping it in some transparent paper, you had left.

Isn’t it funny how things change quickly? A few months ago, you thought Mark was long gone from your life, and now you’re almost worried and bringing him soup to his dorm. It’s weird how you also feel anxious, years of hating Mark Lee’s guts would’ve suppressed any feeling for him and yet, here you are frantically tapping your fingers on the hot bowl. Is it too much, too soon? He could’ve denied though, are is it too polite to do so?

Can a few months really change your relationship? Won’t it be weird? You don’t even have the time to think much about all these questions before he opens the door, or at least tries to. You don’t know it but, on the other side, the young men is struggling to rip the thick spider web off, letting a breathy “W-wait, just give me a second” escape from his dry lips.

The young men knew your dorm was ridiculously close, actually he could see your window from his, not that he checked it to make sure you got home or anything, but he didn’t think you’d come so quickly.

The weird and new feeling of goosebumps rising on the back of his neck somehow told him you were close, he had to quickly kick his blanket on his bed, find a way to hide the too many boxes of noodles he had laying around and at least, at the very least, make it look like he was working. Only then did he have the time to give his attention to the web, going back and forth in his bedroom before he found a pair of scissors, hiding both the white thing and tool in a drawer.

Mark hoped he at least looked presentable.

“Mark Lee? Lee Mark ? Mark and you ?”, Yerim asks over the phone, making you roll over on your stomach. You suddenly regret even telling your old high school about last night, the way she pronounces Mark’s name and yours in the same sentence telling enough about how she’s feeling.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”, you whine on your end of the phone, hiding your face in your soft pillow. Really, you needed to tell someone about the night before and both Johnny and Jaehyun were crossed from your list. They didn’t even know that Mark actually knew you quite well back in the days, let alone that the two of you despited each other.

Yerim was the third-best option, she knew the history between you and Mark, was free and wasn’t sick of hearing you complain like many of your friends.

“It is a big deal ?”, she started, her tone almost questioning your point of view. “You’ve been hating his guts for years, Y/N. And you’ve been telling me all about it for years too.”

A deep sigh left your lips, really you didn’t know how to respond. The blonde was right, though. It kind of was a big deal, but you didn’t want to blow such a thing out of proportion. Your fingers ticked at a loose thread coming out of your blanket, a pout forming on your lips. “I knooow.”

Ah, what was Mark Lee doing to you? The night before, when he opened the door and looked like he had run the marathon to clean his bedroom, you couldn’t help but laugh at him, his tense shoulders dropping down as soon as he heard the sound.

You had spent the extremely short walk to his dorm wondering if being alone with him wouldn’t be weird and thankfully, it hadn’t been, at any point of the night. You wonder if him being sick and probably a bit feverish by the look on his face didn’t make the whole thing easier, after all, who wants to act though and actively keep grudges when sick?

Your initial plan was to drop the soup, ask how he was doing and bolt out, make the experience short to avoid any chances of it getting ugly, but Mark had insisted for you to at the very least take a seat and tell him about the friend date he missed. The way he asked wasn’t forced, it wasn’t just something to be polite, and after all, Mark hadn’t seen anyone in quite a while now. The young man was the extrovert, he fed off social interactions, maybe that’s why he felt a bit happy to see you. Being sleep deprived does things to you, he figured.

The five minutes trip you had planned turned into two hours, Mark was eating his soup on his bed, not wanting you to sit on it because it was “A bed of batteries”, while you sat on his desk chair, making it turn around occasionally as you told him about Johnny’s scream when he thought he lost his camera, Jaehyun’s failed attempt at dinner the other day.

“And then ?”, asked Yerim, her mouth full of the cupcake she was chewing on.

“Then? I got back to my dorm.”, you said like it was obvious and didn’t know why she was asking. On the other end, you could clearly hear her disappointment, yet another sigh leaving her lips.

“Boring.”, she sang, your eyes rolled yet another time before she brushed her words off as a joke. “So, after all these years, are y’all friends ?”, she asked.

Your head tilted to the side, from your spot, you could see his bedroom window, the light suddenly turning on in the small square as the night started settling in.

“I guess we are friends now.”

“Spring is here, read all about your campus’ events to celebrate !”, the headline reads as Mark scrolls down Mingtian’s website, remembering him how weeks had passed since the incident in the lab.

Crazy how your life can change so quickly, so drastically. Mark didn’t really have the time to look back, or maybe he feared doing it. Either way, his life wasn’t the same. A few days after you brought him some soup was all he needed to get back on his feet and get his thoughts together. Long gone was the shadow of himself he’d seen in the black screen of his laptop when another episode loaded on Netflix.

Firstly, it didn’t take long for him to figure out that this never happened to anyone, anything like this, for the matter. Mark had dreams, a lot, and one of them was for him to discover something that would break science, find something no one ever laid eyes on before him, and he had it, it was him. Sure, he didn’t expect such a thing to actually happen, nor happen so early on, but he could work with it, as terrifying as it was.

Second, he figured that thing wasn’t doing anything too harmful to his body. A battery of tests and his doctor told him he was completely healthy without a doubt. So, he was here, actually healing faster when he got hurt, bruises and cuts disappearing in a day or two, hours if it was small. He could apparently walk on walls, but he didn’t really try again after that night he was stuck on his celling, and had something with spider webs that he would keep and test whenever he had the time.

And that’s how, on third, he started thinking about helping people with his powers. (Mark actually didn’t want to use this word before a few days ago, but he had to face it, it was the definition of superpowers.) See, the thing is, superheroes weren’t unknown, they just didn’t happen in his city, did Mark Lee really have the pretention to be the first one here?

After years of reading comics, going wide-eyed in front of the news channels, he knew that he’d have a lot on his shoulders.

A lot of back and forth, could he rely on his powers? What was he really capable of? He didn’t know. For weeks, he locked himself in, he feared testing everything on the outside world until one night, he did it.

Winter was still present in the air, but the early spring prevented the wind from biting the young man’s skin. The hoodie he was wearing close to his body, he kept his head low as he walked on campus, hands in his pocket.

In the dead of the night, the streets were empty, only a few people had given up on classes at the time, making them the only people out at this hour, mostly drunk. As lights were going out one by one behind every window, Mark made his way further into the campus, until he reached a place far from only anyone at that time, the vacant stadium.

“The campus’ superhero! All we know for now.”

Mark almost missed it, if the word “superhero wasn’t in bold, red letters.

Without missing a beat, the student’s finger tapped on his screen, turning his brightness to the lowest setting. In the background, your conversation with Jaehyun only became a blur as Mark’s ears seemed to ring, his skin burning a bright red as he found hard to focus on such simple words.

The article was short, blurry and dark pictures didn’t even come close to being dangerous for his privacy, and clearly, they didn’t have a lot of information on him. The article clearly was written in the heat of the moment, little proof meaning little people would believe it right away, nothing was clear and set. Speculations on his age, his major.

Apparently, someone had seen him on his last night out, the anonymous witness talked about seeing him shot something he couldn’t identify, seeing him climbing a wall before he lost him.

Many comments weren’t taking the whole thing seriously, yet. It made Mark feel a lot, lot better to know that maybe, just maybe, he had a bit more time left to get ready himself before getting forced to show himself to the world. Vine references about how he was on “XGames mode”, and other memes managed to relax him a bit, before he tumbled upon other comments.

Some didn’t believe yet, some made assumptions already, those got to Mark Lee. If it was real, he needed to be tested, some said, they needed to find him. The city’s own hero, what a task, he wouldn’t and couldn’t stay hidden too long. They went on, and on, never getting tired of their theories.

“Oh my god.”, Mark whispers, his finger stuck on the screen, refusing to exit the app.

“What did you say ?”, Jaehyun asked, chewing on his gum, his attention switching from you to Mark. Only Johnny was missing, his pause starting soon, you three were seated at your usual table in the café. The sun would set a bit later than usual, the golden light filtering through the large windows, the café emptying as it usually was busy early in the day.

Mark looked up, eyebrows shot up to hide under his dark locks, his eyes moving back and forth from yours to Jaehyun’s, amusement from his sudden reaction clear on the other men’s eyes. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I- eh…I just blacked out for a moment.”, Mark finally managed to let out, locking his phone before leaving it on the table, people started talking about the new phenomena way too soon, he didn’t expect this big of exposure without even having everything figured out himself.

Oh, the superhero life didn’t suit him that well.

“You’ve been doing it pretty often these days, did you get some rest ?”, you asked, tilting your head to the side. Bringing your cup of tea to your tinted lips, you took a sip, almost chuckling against it as he got lost in his thoughts again, but this time, you were in the centre.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep due to coming finals, mixed with the slight shock he still had lingering around and the colour of lipstick you chose to wear today, but he took a bit too long to detach his eyes from the nude stain of the white object. Maybe it was the guilt from not telling any of his closest friends, the guilt he had because as time when by, he felt himself drifting away.

“Yah, this kid is always dreaming”, Johnny’s loud voice and his hand ruffling his dark lock finished to bring him back to reality, a smile softening his features. The tallest took a seat next to him, making the new superhero look small in comparison. He couldn’t help but notice as he thanked Johnny for the cup of coffee, did he have the shoulders to do it? He wasn’t buff, he wasn’t extremely tall, he wasn’t the one to actively go to the gym, he had a few muscles from dancing and sports but so many guys religiously went to the gym for more, and more.

“What are you dreaming about ?”, teasingly asked Jaehyun, to wish Mark decided to ignore at first. His cup of coffee was brought to his lips, his eyes stuck on the beige table, he vaguely listened to the conversation, trying to keep himself in, the conversation going back and forth until you giggled at something Johnny said.

“I’m sure he is, I’m sure he’s daydreaming about this superboy.”

Mark shocked on his coffee.

Mark smirks, maybe he does, maybe he does have the shoulders to be the superhero they want him to be.

But if he doesn’t ? He doesn’t care.

That’s what he needed to figure out, that’s what has been blocking him for days after the article. Expectations from people he didn’t know, people that didn’t know him. He didn’t have anything to prove, and if he had something, it was something he had to prove to himself.

His head tilts to the side, the skin-tight black hood only showing his eyes keeping his earbuds from falling. In his ears, the music at a low level only accompanies the street’s noise. Cars drive by, never noticing the shadow lurking at the top of a building, their wheels crush the small bits of wet pavement, a few passerby walk with their heads low towards their phone.

Everyone looks small underneath him, he blended with the buildings, invisible but all-seeing. After rain’s fragrance tickle his senses despite the thick fabric covering his face, his upper body hangs off the wall, even like this, he’s so high no one see him.

He doesn’t fear falling, he’s confident in himself. After weeks of practice, he knows what he’s capable of.

After a moment of observing the street’s movement, Mark decides to turn around. His back on the end of the wall, his shoulders, arms and head hanging off. He takes a breath, arms spread, eyes on the sky. It’s getting darker, he notices, the dark blue turning black as minutes go by, stars flickering in and out of his view.

He’s excited more than afraid, the night sky going black his signal to get up and finally give it a try. His shoes kick a few rocks as he gets up, not even taking a second to brush the dust out of his hoodie.

He’s on one of the tallest buildings, people are working underneath him, the lights never going off. Another tall building in front of him, the bank. It doesn’t have as many windows as the one he’s towering on, the pale granite looking almost grey under the artificial lights.

That’s the one he had his eyes on, taller from a few meters, he couldn’t make out the roof of the building, but that’s what he wanted. Mark’s eyes didn’t leave the end of the wall of the building, slowly taking steps further and further away. He needed to gain momentum, the steps at a rhythm, forcing his breathing at the same tempo. When the young man’s back finally touched the wall, he knew he had to do it quickly.

Quickly before he lost all confidence.

And so, he did.

Workers underneath him probably wondered what or who was walking, or rather, running on their rooftop. Running as fast, as hard as possible, he didn’t let his mind register what was happening as his right foot landed on the wall he was resting minutes before, one leg pushed his body off the building, and before his mind could understand that he was in the air without protection, he shots.

In milliseconds, the white string easily attaches itself to the wall of the bank, almost invisible yet so strong. Quickly, both his hands gripped the spider web, if he had enough force, he could do it. His arms pulled, as hard as he could, and for a split second, he swore he touched the sky.

He touched the sky, and before he could realise it, he was on the second building’s rooftop.

His back is the first one to hit the rooftop, hard and small rocks digging into his skin. It might hurt now, but everything will go fairly quickly. Furthermore, that’s not what Mark is focused on. His body rolls for a few meters before he manages to stop himself with his hand and foot, thinking that he should probably wear gloves next time.

Heart beating against his ribcage, he stays like this for a moment, face inches from the floor, hand firmly on the surface like he fears falling. He did it, he was on the other building. Slowly, the college student gets up, he feels even taller now, the rooftop he was standing on seconds before under him, he really did it.

He could do anything.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he looked down at the string he shot waving in the air, deciding he’s let it like this, a trace of where his night started.

After this, Mark was unstoppable, long gone were his fears, the city was his.

Restaurants, cafes, streets he only knew during the day looked so much more interesting from his point of view, high and proud. When his attention isn’t on the streets, mindlessly trying to find something interesting, his attention was on the skyline, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he was getting comfortable.

The young student stopped fearing the jump, he didn’t hesitate anymore, his reception getting cleaner, his footsteps soundless. He could do this all Friday night, he felt a new type of freedom, something he couldn’t quite describe as he shot yet another string, the night wind puffing his sweatshirt, licking away the sweat forming on his stomach.

He could’ve stayed there all night long, if he hadn’t been stopped dead in his tracks between two smaller buildings as he was risking his way back to the campus.

The loud sound of a door metal door stopped him at first, his shoes landed on the convenience store’s rooftop. Although it was indeed Friday night, and most parties were still going on at this hour, he hadn’t come across any fights, at least nothing this loud.

Before he could get a good view on the scene, he had to crouch down, on hand on the triangle-shaped roof as he tried his best to stay invisible despite the large neon sign a few meters behind him.

And that’s when he almost fell down.

In the dark, small street was you. Clearly angry and possibly confused, Mark could see a man that definitely was not Johnny or Jaehyun standing a few meters away from you, keeping you from walking away. Mark understood right away, but he didn’t expect any action so soon, nonetheless with someone he knew involved.

Slightly frozen at the top, he decided he’d listen to the conversation a bit more. As selfish and pathetic as it may sound, he was scared. He didn’t see himself as a hero, at least, not yet.

“Your phone, your wallet. Quick.”, the men said, Mark couldn’t see his face, he was more focused on you anyways.

“I’m not giving you anything.”, you snapped back, Mark was worried you’d get yourself in trouble even more, his guts screaming at him to jump in and take the man down.

“It wasn’t a question.”, clearly, the tallest wasn’t finding any of this funny, he probably also wasn’t planning on you not giving in so easily. Menacing, he took a few steps closer, enough that your body automatically took a step back, the back door of the club and the end of the street growing further away.

“Listen up, slut.”, he started, and as soon as you saw his hand raising, you reacted out of impulse. You were scared, yes, but as a broke student, you couldn’t just give him your phone and your wallet, just most of your life in them. The bottle you didn’t even sip on in your hand found the wall, the glass breaking easily.

Mark’s eyebrows shot up, being almost full, the liquid in the bottle splashed all over the wall, wetting the side of your top and your shoes. Probably in survival mode, you didn’t care much, you just knew that the now broken bottle would be as sharp as a knife, enough to threaten and defend yourself if needed.

That’s when Mark almost fell backwards, his back falling straight on the green neon light of the store. If the obvious shadow wasn’t enough, the loud noise that came with the impact finished to give away his hiding spot.

The robber turned around, surprised as he didn’t find anyone standing behind him. You, on the other hand, wished you’ve had the reflex to hit the men as he was distracted, but how could you when a shadowy figure that somewhat looked familiar jumped from god knows where.

You swore you didn’t drink, no one slipped anything in your drink, yet you couldn’t quite believe your eyes when this person, who looked like he materialized in front of you gave a straight punch in the other men’s face, knocking him out for a few seconds.

A gasp left your lips as you backed away completely against the wall, the broken bottle glass falling from your grip and you swear, you swear you almost lost your mind. The men quickly got up, the difference in sizes was obvious, he towered over your new saver, but the masked one’s next move had the power to freeze you completely.

His hand lifted, with nothing in it, and in a second, something shot from his silhouette. You couldn’t really see it, but a moment, the tall one was ready to knock the both of you out, the moment after, the was firmly held by something on the wall.

The large, white substance was covering his body, he could struggle and move, he was stuck. A groan escaped his lips, kicking his shoes on the floor.

“Who are you, what the fuck is that ?”, anger was clear in his voice, but apparently your new hero didn’t want to deal with this. His hand lifted a second time, the same stringy thing, this time aimed towards the men’s face. Touching his forehead at full impact, his head harshly crashed against the wall, surely knocking him out for a few hours.

The questions he asked kept running in your head, the adrenaline keeping you from thinking straight, but one thing was sure, he was the one articles were talking about. The realisation finally hit your brain, your mouth agape as he turned around. You weren’t surprised when you saw he was wearing a black and thick fabric over his face, his face contoured under the material like he was about to say something before he stopped himself.

You couldn’t move, too scared, too shocked, his thumb and index formed an o, silently asking you if you were ok.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.”, you finally breathed, “Thank you.”

He stared at you for a second, your eyes locked and you couldn’t help but wonder where you saw those eyes. His dark brown eyes were a window to his emotions, you didn’t need to see his face to understand that he was strangely really concerned, almost scared. Maybe he understood that he was staring, he slowly nodded, apparently, he didn’t want to talk and didn’t know how to communicate with his hands. Shooting you a thumbs up, he ended up holding his hand a bit up, palms towards you, like he was asking you to slow down, probably telling you to be careful.

You nodded again, every one of your braincells had left your brain at this very moment, you couldn’t believe what you just saw, you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. “Who are you ?”, you finally asked, like he was going to give you his name just like that.

He didn’t answer, he didn’t have the time before your phone started ringing. Both you and Mark recognised the special ringtone for Johnny. Without thinking, you picked up with a trembling hand, you almost forgot where you were but seeing your friend’s name on you phone only made you want to get back to security as soon as possible.

“Yeah Johnny, I’m outside, please com-”, you started, before the masked men retreated. “No ! Wait !”, you screamed out, but he was too quick, climbing the wall of the club like it was some simple stairs he was going up. And just like that, he disappeared.

“Look! Look, look, look, look !”, you jumped on your seat, leaving your phone screen up on the table. Jaehyun quickly looked at it, before resting his back on his chair, torn between getting annoyed and laughing at your attitude. On your phone, was an article about the night you almost got robbed and got saved by “Spiderman”, the name you and a few other people gave him, slowly starting to take off.

You were lightly featured in the article, this wasn’t what you cared about, you cared more about the encounter, you never thought you’d see someone with powers with your own two eyes, you could hardly wrap your head around the fact that they existed. For days now, you were almost obsessed, you needed to thank him, weirdly, you didn’t remember doing it.

Sadly for your friends, there was hardly a day without you talking about him, hardly a day where you didn’t try to understand who he was, how he became like this.

Sadly for your friends, especially for Mark.

Oh, how he didn’t know where to put himself. He knew you’d talk about it, a little bit, but not that much.

“Do you think he’s a student here ?”, you asked, you eyes going scanning your three friends’ faces. Mark dodged the question, shrugging his shoulders before going back to his book.

“Most likely, yes.”, Johnny though, answered. If Jaehyun was slightly annoyed by the new obsession, Johnny, on the other hand, was getting into the entire conspiracy mood. After all, the mysterious man was the one who saved his friend when he wasn’t around, he almost felt like he owed him something.

“That’s such a weird power, though.”, Jaehyun said, stretching his legs until they were resting on your lap. Dropping you flashcards on him, you continued as he only added oil to the fire.

“Right? I don’t think he chose this power. No one would pick this out of everything, right ?”

“Do you think it was like, an accident ?”, Johnny asked, Mark sunk down on the sofa, bringing his book higher to hide his face. He had been reading the same phrase for the past hour, he couldn’t concentrate with his three closest friends unknowingly speculating about him. He couldn’t either deal with the fact that he didn’t tell you, he couldn’t now. He felt like it was too late.

“What do you think, Mark ?”, you asked. No matters how much you hated admitting it months ago, you knew Mark, and seeing him so out and distant was out of the ordinary. The young men usually was one of the mood makers, his loud laughs never failed to grab attention and make you follow his attitude, it didn’t take you long to understand that something was off.

When Jaehyun was on your left, Mark was on your right, easy to reach, your fingers snapped in front of his eyes.

“What ?”, he finally asked, making it feel like you didn’t hear his voice for hours. Both Johnny and Jaehyun had caught his odd behaviour and reaction, “His powers, what do you think he can do ?”, you asked a second time.

“I, ugh-…I don’t know.”, he mumbled, avoiding any eye contact, his attention focusing on a random heart drawing he couldn’t memorize. Even in a bad mood, and you never really saw Mark in a bad mood, not this bad, he’d never avoid such a topic. Mark Lee had always been kind of a nerd, he would bring comics to class, he’d get pretty excited when a new hero would break out.

“Are you ok ?”, you finally asked, the question sounding more like a threat than anything else to the young leo. Silence was forced in the room, three pair of eyes waiting for an answer that should normally be obvious and given without a second thought. Was he ok? He didn’t really himself, to be honest. A few days prior, he was confident in himself and almost flying between buildings, now guilt and stress were the only things clouding his mind.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just stressed.”, he shrugged, thinking he’d be able to go back to trying to work with such an answer. What he wasn’t ready for, though, was your hand on his shoulder. In a millisecond, electricity ran down his spine as he finally looked over his book. The small smile and sweet look in your eyes was one you’d usually give to your two other friends, but he definitely wasn’t used to this.

“Don’t stress, you’ll do just fine, I promise.”, you finally tell, to which the two other agree, a series of nods and, “You will, don’t worry.”, follow your sentence.

For the first time in a while, Mark feels small, tiny butterflies in his stomach, a pink hue creeping on his high cheeks. See, the young men felt accepted in the friend group, something he hadn’t felt since junior high, most likely. None of you knew, but Mark needed the encouragements, more than ever. A small smile crept on his lips as he thanked you, any memories of your old bickerings long gone. Finally, the mood settled down, as everyone seemed to go back to their studies, the leo’s mind somewhat calmer.

“Anyways, I need to find a way to thank Spiderman.”

Great.

"How stubborn are you ?”, your classmate Renjun asks, pushing the cubes of ice in his cup with his bright green staw. The sound gets drowned by the hubbub on the park you two are studying in. Or at least you are, eyes trying to adjust to the bright sun as you read your art book under a tree, few students passing by.

“Very.”, you answer, tapping your pencil on your book, not taking a break from the small annotations you’ve been making. Yes, you were very stubborn, and you’ve been since your childhood. Weeks after the accident outside the club, the “encounter”, as you call it, you’re still determined to see him again, the hooded and mysterious young men almost everyone call spiderman.

“It’s been weeks. You don’t even know who he is, where he is.”, pointed Renjun, like you’ve never heard it before, you’ve heard it from Jaehyun, Johnny, Yerim, everyone. Sipping on his too cold iced tea, he coughed a moment as you roll your eyes, frowning at your book.

“And ? He’s still on the campus, people saw him yesterday.”, you tell him, pouting. Putting emphasis on the last word, you almost sounded like a really dedicated fan of a still sketchy and unknown hero. But you weren’t lying, he did appear last night, Friday again. Almost flying between buildings in the chilling night, shooting spiderwebs after spiderwebs.

Actually, he appeared multiple times during the last weeks. Pictures clearer and clearer, it seemed like people were going out, hoping to get a glimpse of him, get the best picture yet. He always seemed to appear at night, during the weekends, but some people still managed to get some good, though grainy shots. Average height and skinny was what you could see from the series of pictures. “That means I still have a chance to bump into him.”

More and more, people stopped being septics, theories flying left and right on social medias, but no one really knew who was the masked student.

“Just to thank him ?”, your friend asked, raising one of his dark eyebrows. Giving up on your book, you looked up as he spoke.

“Yes, just to thank him.”

Saying it out loud almost made you sound ridiculous…Were you ridiculous? You just really wanted to thank him, in person and without the adrenaline that probably made you lose all of your words last time. Plus, the way he seemed so surprised as well, and how familiar his aura was only pulled you even more in.

“You’re unbelievable.” Renjun sighed, sipping on the last drops of his overpriced tea, making your crunch your nose at the noise. “So, what’s your plan ?”

You chuckled. You don’t have one.

“At least try and have some fun.”, Renjun visibly pouts, at least you think he is. The dim, red light of the club isn’t helping your vision at all, eyes tired from hours upon hours on the computer. Turning your attention to your friend, you sigh against your glass, the taste of the non-alcoholised drink you ordered still lingering on your lips, the loud music isn’t helping either when you try to respond. “I’m not here to have fun!”, you’re growing more and more annoyed by the minute, you’ve been here for an hour or so but it feels like you’ve been sitting here for far more, shoe unconsciously tapping on the club’s floor as all your friends dance to the beat of the song. Needless to say, your sentence didn’t make much sense in such a setting. This seems to be the last straw for your friend, who, you have to say, you’ve been putting through a lot, frustration clear on his face as he sits down in the booth, just a table filled with bottles and glasses between the two of you. “You’re way too focused and obsessed with this thing.” He’s right, you know he is, but it doesn’t stop you from looking down at your half-full drink, swirling the liquid around with a finger, one side of your brain refusing to understand his very rational point of view. “Come on, let’s dance a bit ? Even if you don’t see him tonight, it’s not a big deal.”

Once again, he’s right. Even if you don’t see him tonight, it shouldn’t be a big deal, it shouldn’t affect your mood nor your night, it really shouldn’t. But see, aside from thanking him, there’s something else that really is bugging you, the more you think about it, the more it’s suspicious, but the more it feels like you’re being paranoid, delusional. How familiar he was, you didn’t mention it, it was just a feeling and didn’t think much about it, but now that his identity was a big, red question on everyone’s lips, you truly couldn’t push the thought aside. Maybe it was someone from your class, someone you came across while going to one of your classes, you didn’t know and Renjun didn’t let you think more about it, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist to force you on the dancefloor.

You can’t spot Johnny, probably dancing somewhere else and out of your vision or, knowing him, taking shots at the crowded bar. Jaehyun wasn’t there, nor was Mark, the first needed to get back home, while the second needed to study for upcoming tests.

Not having half of your group did feel weird, especially on Friday nights and weekends. But, you understood that Jaehyun was pretty homesick and needed to recharge with his family, while Mark seemed to get back to his old self and tried as best as he could to regain his first place, nothing exceptional.

“I need some fresh air, I’ll be back soon, alright ?”, you finally tell Renjun. Fuck it, you needed to get over it, eventually, all of this would get unhealthy way too quickly. Pushing through bodies, you quickly walked along the painted walls of the club, lights flashing and dancing on the dark colour, easily finding the door to the exit.

One push of the door and the chilly air of this Friday night rushed on your body, licking away the thin layer of sweat that had gathered near your hairline. Outside, the campus’ streets are animated despite the cold weather, groups of friends meeting before a week of midterms.

It’s crazy how a bit of fresh air managed to clear your mind, filling your chest before you let the fog form in front of your tinted lips. You have to correct your own posture, back straight, head high, rolling your shoulders, bones screaming from your bad postures. Walking away from the building, you take a few steps on the main street, wandering aimlessly until you’d cleared your mind, gradually managing to think about something else that isn’t him. But it seemed your mind wouldn’t be left peaceful for long, the world wasn’t so good on you.

It takes a few seconds for your ears to peak up the loud screaming from afar. At first, your ears peak up, only registering how loud they’re being before understanding that a fight is taking place some meters away from you. Screams and words you can barely make out, it’s clear both parties are already pretty intoxicated, both it seems nothing physical started, yet. Humans are curious by nature, and it shows when a few people gathered around the two drunk students, you included, walking a bit closer. Only, when you see exactly who’s arguing do you drop your curiousness to worry and fear, you didn’t recognise Johnny right away, thinking he was still in the club. But without a doubt, there he is, his leather jacket gone as his tall and impressive figure towers and walks towards the unknown second party.

“Come on, touch me!”, the stranger taunted your close friend. If there’s one thing you rapidly figured out about Johnny, it’s that, when he was sober, the brunette wasn’t quite aware of his strength. A lot like a puppy who grew up too fast and wasn’t accommodated to his grown body. Drunk Johnny, on the other side, wasn’t afraid of acting recklessly, and it made you fear for the unknowing partygoer.

A small crowd had formed around them, mostly cheering on, blindly pushing the fight to go on. You couldn’t let it take place, you couldn’t let it happen. In his drunken state, Johnny gave in, fist clenched in a way you knew he’d throw it at any second, your heartbeat picked up and before you knew it, your body threw itself between the two men, not thinking twice. In seconds, you couldn’t really process the multiple shouts of your friend’s name tumbling from your lips as you desperately tried to push his body away. Somehow, you find yourself behind him, tugging at the plain white shirt he chose to wear, hands gripping the fabric.

Most likely because of the alcohol and adrenaline running through his veins, Johnny didn’t pay any attention to you, trying to reach the stranger again and again.

“Hit me, hit me!”, obnoxious and way too cocky for his own good, the second party you quickly learned was named “Jinyeon”, was free of his movements and quickly getting railed up. You couldn’t hold onto Johnny for so long, it seemed no one was really trying to actively break the fight, leaving you alone. Your grip on his shirt was quickly slipping away, your desperate voice calling for your friend again and again, but it seemed you couldn’t get past his drunken mind. And, just as your fingertips were letting go of your friend, a promise of a fight you couldn’t stop after it’d start, Jiyeon’s screams stopped.

For a few seconds only, before his drunken swears were directed towards someone else, someone you knew too well. Red hood mask, a collective gasp and whispers followed the appearance of the one and only campus superhero. Visibly, he liked popping out of nowhere, you didn’t even fully register his presence before he was standing between the two dunk fighters. Despite his smaller figure, he didn’t need to use any strength to stop the fight at once, both with the surprise he caused and by the string of spider web that stuck Jiyeon’s hands together.

“What the fuck is that ?”, he screamed, desperately trying to get the unknown substance away from him, his watered-down senses causing him to tumble backwards. Only then, did his friends walked out of the crowd, finally deciding to put an end to everything as they helped him regain his balance and walk a bit away. You, on the other hand, was stunned, to say the least. Your hands had flopped down to your side, it seemed the mere apparition of Spiderman had managed to sobber Johnny down enough that he didn’t try to throw a fit and mimicked your moves, arms falling at his sides with an open mouth.

“You need to calm down.”, second, or maybe the third shock of the day, you didn’t really count. The hooded hero spoke, but his voice was audibly altered, making him sound almost like a robot, a layer of autotune on his original voice. Lips parted, you watched as he hesitantly walked towards Johnny, a clear opposite to how confident he was when he restrained Jiyeon’s hands.

“Are you okay ?”, he spoke again, body language visibly thorn between two extremes, only when Johnny nodded did his shoulders flop down, nodding to himself.

“Are you ?”, you asked yourself, finally processing the entire situation. It felt surreal, you never thought you’d have to stop a fight, nor a fight with one of your closest friend.

“Yeah. I need to walk a bit.”, was the only thing he said, taking a few steps away from you as his heart-beat slowed down.

“And…And you ?”, it almost made you jump back when your attention turned from Johnny to the campus’ hero, he had walked a bit closer, fingers tugging at his gloves. Finally, you took a long look at his appearance, he was just like in the pictures, still wearing the same hoodie and mask over his face. Only then, did it hit you. There was your chance to thank him !

You probably had a weird expression on your face, his face lolled to the side, a small gasp left your lips. You almost touched his arm, but had to restrain yourself from getting too much into his private bubble. “Y-Yeah! Do you remember me ?” You couldn’t believe your own voice, almost shy and quivering, pearly teeth biting down on your lower lip.

He took a few seconds to respond, for you, it seemed like he was searching back in his memories. After all, he saw you once in a dark street, a weeks ago.

What you don’t know, is that Mark, under his thick mask, debates fainting amnesia, he really does. He recalls starting a phrase two times, before vomiting out a string of words like an awkward teenage boy on a first date. “I-Uh, yeah. I remember you.”

Oh, how Mark doesn’t know why his palms get sweaty even when they’re covered with gloves, nor why his heartbeat picks up now, when it didn’t while breaking the fight up, fight that included one of his close friends. Mark doesn’t know why his words get mushed in his brain, or why his mouth goes dry. He’s too focused on trying to understand why to comprehend what you’re saying, he sees your lips moving, he hears, but his brain doesn’t process.

“What ?”, he asks, almost feeling guilty for not listening to you, but he sees you giggling for a second, maybe because the whole conversation seems funny with his autotuned voice.

“I wanted to thank you for the last time.”, you say again, a giddy smile taking over your features, one Mark decides he likes why more than the worried and scared look you had on your face moments before he arrived. Did he have the power to give you that smile, he only wondered for a quarter second.

“Oh, no worries. You don’t have to thank me twice.”, Mark smiles under his mask, of course, your stubborn mind wouldn’t let go. “No real-. Twice ?”, the way your face grows red in embarrassment makes him giggle, in autotune again, causing you to laugh at both him and yourself. “I was sure I didn’t the first time.”

“No worries ! Just, keep the gossiping down from now on.”, Mark wanted his phrase lighthearted and was ready to fly away with that, not giving you time to register what he said before he turned his back to you and, within a second or so, managed to shoot a string of web to a building and swing away as quickly as he came. Leaving you alone, the weird feeling bubbling in your stomach left as rapidly when your mind connected two dots. Gossip ? How did he know about your gossiping about him…? He couldn’t have ears everywhere, of…did he ? And that’s how, in the middle of a cold street, surrounded by tipsy friday night partygoers, your eyes grew twice their size. That’s how, with one sentence he probably didn’t think through, you unmasked Spiderman, you unmasked Mark Lee.

You don’t know what entity took over you, but it craves closure, and a good shot to drown everything.

When these two dots connected, you never felt so dumb in your entire life. Everything made sense, in a way, yet you needed a clear proof, or else you were going crazy. The voice, the body language, the corpulence, the unending awkwardness every time the subject was brought up. That’s why he seemed so familiar, because it was Mark, someone you’ve know your entire life. How dumb you must’ve looked when he was hiding under his mask. Even, why has he hiding this from you, from Johnny and Jaehyun of all people ? Or did they know ? And you were the only one in pure secret and ignorance ? You thought you two made up, but if he told your two friends and not you, it was clear the friendship you felt between the two of you was one sided. And somehow, this hurts a bit too much. You blamed it on the trust you had finally given him, the multiple efforts you’ve made to go along, and nothing else. Yet, the confusion was a bit too intense, and it drove you to his dorm door.

Lucky for Mark, he didn’t forget to lock his door. Lucky for you, dealing with three chaotic and forgetful guys means you can pick a lock. After all, it’s a simple dorm, your old credit card is enough to dislodge the small piece of metal and let you enter. It’s dark inside, curtains pulled to the side, streets lights helping you adapt to the lack of light. For some reason, your eyes linger on his bed, it’s neatly made and you don’t have to fear that he’s sleeping under the covers. Faint smell of his earthy cologne floats in the air as you fully enter the room and close the door behind you, locking itself in a second. Now what ? Adrenaline brought you there and now what ? Feet dragging on the floor, you didn’t dare turn the light on. One hand softly brushing his blanket, your first thought goes to his desk. Surely, if there’s something to find, it must be here. Mark’s laptop lays there, closed but from the faint light, still on. What are you doing ? You ask yourself a few times, you’re either crazy for thinking that your friend’s the neighbourhood superhero, or you’re crazy for snooping in your friend’s room. Fuck it, now that you’re here, might as well clench your curiosity before Mark comes back from where ever he is. One finger is enough to lift the screen, light pouring in the room, almost blinding you at how bright it is. Your eyes take a few moments to adapt to the digital screen, your university’s page on the screen. The headline’s about Spiderman, you bite your lip before leaving your fingers on the touch pad. It’s not a clear proof, maybe he’s just searching or reading about him. Mark has always been a huge superhero fan anyways. Exiting the page doesn’t unleash more information either, the laptop’s clean, nothing special. His biology paper is here, multiple pages into it, notes here and there. After closing every page, guilt washes over you. His laptop wallpaper faces you, forces you into rethinking your actions, a selfie Johnny took a few weeks ago with your whole group in it. You smile brightly between him and Mark, both of them throwing peace signs as they usually do. Who would’ve thought you’d end up as Mark Lee’s wallpaper, definitely not junior high school you. You take a few seconds to regain yourself, guilt builds up alongside the stress you didn’t know you had, grabbing at your throat. Only now do you feel like running away, red alarms going off in your head as your head screams that Mark could enter at any moment. Another side of your brain tells you to search a bit more, your hand goes down his open drawer and you feel around, not thinking that you might come across something weird, being in a boy’s room. “What are you looking for ?”

The voice seems to come out of nowhere, you jump on your spot, the back of your hand hitting the wood of his desk. Turning back around, your mind goes blank, empty, no thought’s you’d even say. But you can clearly feel your ears getting red as you face none other than Mark Lee. The young adult’s standing in the middle of his room, the cold breeze of the night coming in by the open window. Fuck, you didn’t even here it opening, how did he get it so quietly ? The light’s still off, but you can clearly see his mask in his fist, gloved fingers clenching it. Spiderman’s mask. Yet again, your mind has two reactions. “Mark…”, voice small, you just got caught red headed. He’s probably going to kick you out and tell Johnny and Jaehyun you’re crazy. Your throat goes dry as he doesn’t say anything, lips a straight line, eyebrows slightly furrowed. He’s speechless, something you never thought he could be. The brunette shakes his head lightly, looking down and preventing you from seeing his face anymore, and there you decide you hate not being able to look into his eyes. As he moves his head from left to right, like he’s trying to shake himself awake, you notice his brown locks, sticking in different directions. Mark disregards his mask on his bed, like a rag doll, lifeless on the white covers.

“Mark ?!”, you voice calls him again, you dare address him again after being caught in such a sticky situation. He hisses, maybe sighs, you don’t really know. It’s the confirmation you needed, you were right. Your voice’s high pitched, shock clear in your voice. You know he knows, he knows you know. Thoughts, chaotic in both heads, yet no words are spoken.

“Don’t tell anyone.”, is what he says first, voice soft and almost weak, you understand he’s exhausted and almost feel bad for making him deal with you, this, after a night of -what you think is- fighting small crimes and keeping peace on the campus. You take a step back, you don’t know why. Maybe because realisation just hits you a second time without giving you a proper time out. He didn’t tell anyone, and you foolishly assumed he told Johnny and Jaehyun, you knowingly questioned your friendship with him.

Maybe you stayed silent for a bit too long, the student finally dares looking at you like he’s the one trespassing, calling your name.

“They don’t know ?”, you finally articulate, mouth putty, like you desperately need water. “They” doesn’t need to be defined, both you and Mark know who you’re talking about. All he does is shake his head no again, before letting his body fall on his bed. Your mouth hangs open for seconds, like a fish. You feel like you just forcefully robbed someone from a huge secret, which, you’ve done. When you thought weight would’ve been lifted up from your shoulders, it just adds on.

“Oh.”, is all your mind can find. It’s all you can say. What do you even do ? Tell him you had suspicions and decided to break into his bedroom ?

“Yeah.”, silence feels the room. Awkward, tense, you’d be able to cut it with a knife, pierce through it with a needle. Strings in your heart pull and inevitably break when you remember last time such a silence took place with Mark was before you two met Johnny and Jaehyun and silently decided to get along.

“I-.”, you try, but before a mix of different phrases and words can escape your mouth like a river, Mark stops you.

“When did you find out ?”, he asks. He’s visibly stressed, fingers playing together before he eventually throws his gloves next to his mask, right leg moving up and down. You hate being the cause of this.

“When we were outside.”, you finally find your words, pearly teeth repeatedly biting down on your -probably- red bottom lip. You had to lean against his desk, knees weak. “When you said to stop with the gossiping.”

In another situation, it would be comical, how his pretty brown eyes widen in realisation, just like yours did. His palms rub his face and he audibly groans, a small “fuck”, tumbling from his lips.

“I don’t even remember saying it.”, he confessed with a speechless laugh. Hearing it helps you relax the slightest bit, he doesn’t sound bitter, just dumbfounded. He says silent after that, though his eyes never leave your figure and you understand he wants to know more.

“Then-…Then it just clicked, you know. The voice, the body language.”, -You’ve known each other for years- you wanted to add, but decided against it for the moment. The young superhero only nods, looking to the side for a moment.

“So you decided to break in.”

It clearly wasn’t a question, more like another dumbfounded, almost hurt observation. You shift on your feet, balancing your weight from one side to the other, really, you look like a child who just got caught stealing candy before dinner.

“I’m sorry, I just-…I thought-…I thought you told them and not me…”, your voice gets quieter as you speak, if you could, you’d disappear in thin air alongside your embarrassment. Eyes on the floor, you miss how his eyes get bigger, before shifting under his frowning eyebrows. You’re ready for another row of uncomfortable silence, but Mark has too much to say to let it go so easily.

A gasp leaves his lips when he registers what you just told him, his bed shifting as he stands up. The young men’s sudden move catches you off guard, your eyes taking in his figure as he smoothly lifts his left hand towards the wall on your right. There, you clearly witness his powers for the first time. From what you assume is his wrist, the brunette shoots a sting of spider web. It’s so fast you almost miss it, but the substance lands on the light switch, turning the light bud on immediately.

You’re almost blinded by the light, taking seconds to adjust to the sudden change. You understand that he’s mad, maybe even disappointed. You, yourself, are disappointed with yourself. you could’ve taken the issue in such a different way, but now was too late.

“You really thought I wouldn’t tell you ?”, the disappointment, clear in his voice, has the power to pull at your heart for some reason. You don’t even know how to answer. Yes ? You thought he didn’t.

“N-No…It’s just that-”, your throat tightens, oh how you hate this feeling, your heart starts pumping faster, lips going dry.

“Don’t lie to me, you thought I told them and not you. Who do you think I am ?”,

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”, that’s when you finally dare to look up at him, cutting your sentence halfway. With the lack of light, you didn’t notice the cuts on your friend. Blood on the corner of his lips, a small cut on his cheek, it’s your turn to furrow your eyebrows. Your eyes travel down, so does Mark’s. His knuckles are bruised, a deep shade of purple on his milky skin.

You feel gutted, it hits you. He is Spiderman, he puts himself in danger, he could get severely hurt everytime he flies out his window.

“What happened ?”, you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, bottom lip trembling as Mark looks up at the ceiling, a deep sigh expanding his chest.

“Had to break another fight.”, he simply says, like it’s nothing.

Your heart tightens, you don’t want to cry, not now. Blinking your tears away, you almost manage to escape the discussion, turning around to clumsily fumble with the papers laying on his desk. “Do you have anything to clean yourself up ?”

From the sound his bed makes, he probably sat down again, letting his body fall on his covers with another sigh. “Under the desk, in the white bag.” You have to clear your throat, nod slightly as you bend down and take the said bag.

“We’re friends.”, he finally tells you as you seat next to him, and oh how guilty you feel. From all the times you, him and your two other friends hung out in his very room, you don’t remember Mark’s bed being this small. You have to move closer anyways, one of your knees against his thigh as you face him. You look down and get busy with the first aid box, it seems he used it a few times already and you can’t help but picture him, in the dead of the night, having to clean his cuts and bruises when his friends think he’s peacefully asleep.

“Look at me.” His voice’s softer, he probably knows you could cry at any point now. You do as you’re told after letting a few drops of liquid soak a cotton ball, finding yourself looking right into his brown eyes.

“We’re friend, right ?”, this time, he asks, and you almost laugh and sob at the same time, a breathy sound coming from your lips. Mark sounds like a small kid on the first day of school trying to make friends, maybe a bit like when you two first met.

“We’re friends.”, you tell both him and yourself before lightly tapping the cotton on his cheek, he smiles, your heart flutters. The young superhero doesn’t move, he doesn’t even acknowledge what you think would at least be a small sting. “Doesn’t hurt ?”

“Why do you sound disappointed ?”, he asks with a laugh, one sound you like way better. “Small cuts heal quickly. The whole power thing, y’know.”

“Oh.”, is the only thing you’re able to let out, unconsciously leaning closer to rub at the cut, who you discover is just a bloodstain now. A pout on your lips, you have to look at his cheek a little bit closer. “Lucky.”

“Yeah.”, he says softly, but lets you finish your job anyways. Soon enough, his skin is clean, and as he said, there’s no cut underneath. You don’t think anyone knows about this side of his power, after all, the university’s newspaper doesn’t know a lot either, feeding itself from witnesses.

“Thank you.”, you finally tell him, voice hushed as prepare another cotton.

“Hm ?”

“For not getting mad and y’know…Kicking me out.”, you don’t look at him, turning your attention towards another cotton ball you soak in product now that you know it won’t hurt him. He laughs at that, air fanning over your face, you smile.

“You could’ve, I don’t know. Threw me out the window. Covered my body with spider webs. Or- Can you bite ?” Mark laughs again, genuinely amused by your small monologue, so amused he doesn’t notice your fingers under his chin, nor does he notice how naturally he lets his face rest in the palm of your hand.

“I can, but it won’t do anything special.”

“Hm, interesting. Making a mental note for the school’s newspaper.” you joke, the mood is a lot less tense, Mark has this everlasting tired smile on his rosy lips, dusty cheeks and lazy eyes as he silently watches you.

“Shut up.”, he breathes out, and you don’t answer to that. Finally, the silence that takes place isn’t as awkward or strange as it was, you press the cotton ball at the corner of his lips when he decided to shut up and stop talking, your heartbeat quickens.

“Ouch!”, he whines as soon as the liquid touches his skin, visibly flinching away from your hand. “Oh, fuck, sorr-”, lips parted, eyes wide, you fumble to find a clean cotton ball in hopes of whipping the excess.

“-m joking ! Y/N, I’m okay, I was just joking.”. No matters how many hours you spent with the brunette, or how many years you’ve known him, you won’t ever get his humour sometimes. Shooting him a death stare, hands still deep in his first aid kit, you’re the one who frowns. “Why would you do that, fuck.”

“This one’s because you wanted to tell on the school’s news, you snitch.”

“I was jok-”, you’d rather not finish your sentence, by the way he’s looking at you and smiling a bit too much for a bruised man, you know he just wants to annoy you. Fuck it, you have to grip his cute face in your hand for him to stop moving every minute. Rising on your knees, the lack of light makes you tilt his face upwards to get a better view. “Wait, don’t move.”, high school you would throw up as you move one of your knees, planting it between his legs, your palms get sweaty.

“Let me take care of you, hm ?”, the sentence cames out a lot quieter than you wanted it to be, but after all, you’re close enough that the whisper rings in his ears, you have a lump in your throat. Mark’s lips part, just for him to close his mouth less than a second after, and he visibly swallows.

“O-oh, yeah. Okay.”, and that’s when you understand. That’s when you understand how close the two of you are and yet, you don’t pull back, you don’t really want to. His body heat and perfume strangely seem to calm you down. You’re almost body to body, you feel him breathe, you feel him move his legs the slightest bit under you, you see his pupils grow a bit more.

The honey brown of his eyes seems to disappear, and you can’t decide if it’s because of you, or because of the lack of light in his small dorm.

You don’t dare think it’s because of you, could it be ? You don’t know yours are as blown as his, and it’s definitely not because of his room’s darkness.

Two clueless kids. You press the cotton a second time on the corner of his lip, gentle as you clean the blood. He still has the habit of biting his lip, you think to yourself. He almost looks like he wore a cheer coat of lipstick, uneven and blood red. Soon enough, you’re cleaning nothing, simply stroking as you stare down.

When did he become so attractive ? It’s when you catch yourself asking yourself this very question that you decide it’s time to back away, his scent and the warmth of his body does nothing but pull you in even more and you don’t think you can deal with that at this very moment.

Mark, on the other hand, thinks something else. As you’re about to pull away, completely detach your body from his and hopefully shake the haze he pulled you in out of your mind, his own hand gently wraps under your jaw. It’s a firm, yet delicate grip you can’t register right away because milliseconds later, his lips crash against your own. It starts off hesitant, trembling and unsure lips against your bottom lip. He tastes like the melon lollipops he likes so much, no signs of iron from the blood previously on the corner of his lips. For a moment, Mark doesn’t move, Mark almost pulls away when he realizes what he’s doing.

He’s kissing you, the young hero doesn’t remember the first time he thought about actually doing it, that’s how long the brunette has been wanting it. It’s when his lips detach from your own, scared he crossed the line that you chase after him. You chase after his lips, you’re scared of it being a one time thing, you want more than the small kiss he dared to give you. Taking advantage of your position, your hand sneaks behind his head, fingers already finding purpose in his hair, tilting his head back as you dive in.

Clumsily, your mouth moves against his own, capturing his bottom lip. Your knees grow weak, body shivering when his hands dare to hold your hips. He’s unsure, hands resting on your hip bones, scared to move without your approval. You give it clearly once you softly bite on his bottom lip. The brunette quietly gasps against your mouth, and you dare to present your tongue, the pink muscle meeting his own in a breathless, wet, kiss. Out of breath, you both have to pull away. Your reddish lips reflect his own, matching glossy eyes, it’s probably then that Mark loses it and pushes aside his shyness around you. Quickly, his fingers hook around the belt loops of your jeans, using his grip on the clothing piece to force your body down. Your knees don’t need more to let your body fall onto his lap, or rather, his thigh. Strong and firm under your core, it takes all your will not to desperately grind on him, but your body aches to do it already.

“Waited so fucking long to do this.”, he confessed against the skin of your neck, dragging his lips on the side. His words make you blush a bit too hard, blooming flowers in your heart, your fingers tighten their grip on his locks. Such a simple gesture, yet it managed to make your old enemy moan, a stained sound he tried to hide by busying himself on your neck, painting dark petals. He sucks lightly there, and with this action only, it’s your turn to moan out. It’s a breathy sound, but it gets Mark so worked up his hands slide to the small of your back, resting just above your ass.

“You should’ve done it sooner.”, you tease him a bit, he can’t see the small smile on your face, but he definitely notices when your hips drag themselves against his thigh, losing your self-control. Another simple gesture, driven by pure lust, but it gets Mark’s eyes wide, his jeans a lot less comfortable. He groans, it comes deep from his chest, fuck it, he thinks.

Suddenly, he’s on top of you. Your mind’s so hyper focused on him that you follow his movement when he leans forward. Your back softly hits his bed, hair spreading on his pillow in a halo, the neighbourhood hero’s eyes linger for a moment on the two purple marks he left on your untouched skin, he decides he wants nothing more than to ruin you while having your body as close as possible to his.

“Pretty.”, it’s a simple murmur, so quiet you almost missed it, his right thumb softly draws circles on the two purple petals he left, like he couldn’t believe he was the creator, his left hand pinned just next to your head to support himself. You smile at yourself at the soft manner, but your smile quickly drops to have your lips parted when his thumb moves across, his hand now fully wrapped around your neck.

It gets your skin burning, legs closing for some relief as you feel yourself getting wetter, and Mark certainly notices your body’s reaction. Mark, or someone else. You don’t really know who’s facing you when his lips tug upwards in a devilish smirk, you’ll understand after that his newly found powers also brought a bag of confidence. “Fuck”, is all you’re able to mutter when his grip slightly tightens. He doesn’t even restrict your air canal, but it’s enough for you to understand what he’s thinking about.

“Mark.”, you call out, voice so small he just hums with another knowing smile. “Touch me.”, and it’s all he needs. Slowly, ever so slowly, his lowers his body towards you, making it harder for you to breathe. Resting on his forearm, his eyes never leave your face, he details every feature like he won’t see you ever again after this, he looks at you like he can’t get enough. You, actually do the same. You never noticed how cute his nose looked, small and button-like. However, you noticed how sharp his eyes looked, but never how one of his eyelids was more defined, or how good his new undercut looked.

Arms linked behind his head, you bite down on your bottom lip when Mark uses his knee to part your legs a little more, enough for him to get comfortable between your thighs. This time, it’s your turn to initiate the kiss, bringing his face towards yours with your arms. He’s more than happy to bend under your needs, smiling softly against you as he kisses you back.

This time it isn’t as hesitant, his lips dance at a rhythm you match perfectly, diving deeper before meeting your tongue again. You could easily get addicted to the taste and feeling, his saliva coats your taste buds when he licks into your mouth. It’s an exchange that gets sloppy, messy. Sighs, moans, and a whimper from you when finally, finally, his fingers toy with the button of your jeans.

“Can I ?”, he asks already knowing the answer, his forehead against your own. Throat dry, you nod quickly, so quickly it’s almost funny. Your hips rise up to help him take the tight fabric off of your body. “Good girl.”, Mark praises as he grips the fabric and easily slides it off your legs.

Strangely, you don’t feel exposed, you don’t try to hide, and even if you did, you both know Mark would’ve used his knee to part your legs again. You appreciate the way his eyes linger on your bare skin, right hand running on your outer thigh. That’s when you remember the mismatching underwear you chose to wear that day, not thinking you’d end up in such a situation. Mark’s hand finally travels to your inner thigh, thumb stroking just next to your burning core.

“Baby, you’re leaking.”, the nickname rolls out of his tongue so naturally, it rings in your ears, makes your head spin a little more, you never thought you’d hear it. You downfall when his forefinger and middle finger press against your white panties, just so he can punctuate and prove his words. And yes, you’re drenched, the simple touch under the fabric is enough to have you clenching around nothing, silently anticipating his next move.

Thankfully, the college student isn’t planning on teasing you too much for tonight, he’s aching to finally touch you, feel you arch for what he has to give you. His fingers hook under your undies, swiftly taking it off your body to completely expose your core to him. “Off. Take it off.”, you’re babbling, at this point, hands fisting the fabric of his thick top, tugging at it. Mark finds it amusing, how weak you already are, begging just for him to take his top off, but he plays on it anyways. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Mark. Take your shirt off.”

And he does, hands gripping the fabric from the back to pull it off over his head, and quickly disregards it on the floor of his room. And, fuck.

Fuck, it’s the only word your mind can form, how ethereal can he look.

His pale skin reveals itself under the shy moon, the light makes his jaw and collarbones look sharper, his muscles and faint abs look carved in marble by Rodin himself. You think his nightly workouts on top of buildings really helped his figure, and your hands can only lock behind his back, fingers caressing his curved waist.

Quickly, your soft touches turn into sharp, red lines on his milky skin when he inserts a finger into your core without a warning. A gasp leaves your lips, his digit starts moving quickly, helped by the wetness between your legs and soon enough, another is added. His rhythm turns slow and steady, your walls hugging his fingers as you adjust to them. It manages to steal your breath, leaving you a panting mess under Mark’s body. His lips find purpose on your neck again, determined to decorate your skin even more. His breathe is ragged, like he’s the one being pleasured, “That’s right, let me hear you.”

You both forgot about Mark’s neighbours and how thin the walls are, soft moans filling his room, the sound of the brunette’s wet kisses for your ears only. And, when he’s satisfied with your sounds, the superhero adds a third finger and picks up the rhythm, one that gets your back arching, eyes fluttering shut, biting your lip at how he stretches your walls. “So fucking tight, you can barely take my fingers.”

The men cooed, you barely register what he says, you never took Mark for the dirty talking type, but you definitely won’t complain. Not when he’s looking at you the way your core and his fingers connect like he’s about to eat you up.

“Fuck, Mark, faster!”, you hands travel from his back to his hair, hips raising in an attempt to feel him a little more. The light strain from the stretch is still there, but it’s a small amount of pain added to the pleasure, a mixture you love too much, a mixture you decided you’re addicted to when your old enemy pressed his thumb to your bud of nerves. The familiar knot in your stomach is threatening to burst at any moment, waiting for Mark to give the last blow.

“’m close.”, you realize, as Mark does. In seconds, his left hand pins your lower half to his bed, his lips find yours again when he understands how loud you could get. The kiss’ messy, teeth clashing, your moans and sighs breaking the exchange every few seconds. Mark decides he might be in love with your moans, a few flicks of the wrist, and his fingers reach deeper, thumb presses harder until you come undone underneath him.

You don’t really remember what you said, a mess of tangle words, swears and Mark’s name, but you do remember the slight taste of blood in your mouth from how hard you bite your lower lip. Mark’s fingers don’t slow down the slightest bit, his mouth leaves yours, wanting to watch your face as you come around his fingers.

“Fuck, look at you.”, he muses when he takes his fingers out, watching in awe as he finds them glittering from your essence under the low light. “Already so fucked out, just from my fingers, hm ?” And you are, slightly breathless, eyes glossy, lips red.

You were about to complain and whine about how empty your felt, until your mouth hangs open as Mark takes his fingers into his mouth, moaning around his digits like a starved moan finally getting a meal. That’s when you decide, you want him, you need him.

It takes him by surprise, how you rise to your knees and make him sit on his bed. “Are you okay ?”, he asks, like he’s scared he went too far or harmed you by accident. “Wanna suck you off.”, is all you tell him before your knees find to floor of his bed.

“Oh.”, and it’s his turn to lose his words, eyes hooded as he watches you slide down and gently start working on his jeans. Mark might cum right then and there when you take his pants off, the hand palming him through the thin layer of his boxer, humming at how hard he feels under your fingertips.

“Don’t tease.”, he warns, voice a bit deeper, but he isn’t fooling you, the impatience in his eyes is way too obvious. They never leave your figure when you take this very layer off of his body, judging your reaction. You think you choked on your saliva. The young men’s member might be average in weight, he’s above in length, something you didn’t expect, but again, won’t complain about. Your body also reacts by itself, you remember that you’re not wearing any underwear, and you don’t want to leak on his floor.

“Bab-.”, he calls to catch your attention, his voice getting caught in his throat when you overtake him by wrapping your hand around his dick. “Oh, shit.”, the breathy curse tumbles from his lips as your hand moves up and down, using the pre-cum already leaking from his head. His head automatically rolls to the side, his tongue poking out before he takes his bottom lip between his teeth, sharp eyes impatient. “Thought you wanted to suck me off ?”, he asks, breathless, challenging.

He wanted to play, push your buttons like he used to in high school, but now, you have the upper hand. “Come on big girl, take i-“, you overtake him a second time, tongue flat running on his shaft, finding how his jaw drops and voice cuts a bit too amusing. “Fucking slut.”, is all he manages to articulate, chuckling at your antics. You, on the other hand, wasn’t expecting such words, a choked moan leaves your lips before you busy your mouth by taking Mark’s head between your lips, but he doesn’t miss your reaction.

His hand quickly finds your hair, freeing your vision from any locks that could block it, before slowly guiding you down his length. “Oh, you like when I call you a slut ?”, it’s a rhetorical question you’re not able to answer to anyways, you can only moan again against his dick as he eases himself into your mouth. “Dirty girl. Taking me so fucking well, god.” Jaw relaxed, he feels heavy on your tongue, your eyes might start tearing up.

His praises only make you more determined to pleasure him, you let him control the pace but hallow your cheeks, sucking on his head every time he guides your head up. “That fucking mouth, you were made for this, weren’t you ?”, he groans. His nails lightly scratch your head before he loses his composure, the steady and average rhythm he set turns rapid, his hips meeting your mouth halfway.

It’s when his squishy head hits the back of your throat that you have to breathe through your nose a bit harder, gagging around him every now and then. And, apparently, it drives Mark crazy. When you finally look up, innocent eyes planting themselves into his, you wished you had a camera to immortalize this very moment. The young superhero’s head thrown back, neck and Adam’s apple exposed, abs clenching as he’s getting closer and closer to his own high, his groans slowly turning into full moans. It’s melodic, beautiful sounds you don’t think you’ll ever get enough off. But, as your head starts moving faster, disregarding your sore throat and independently from his rhythm, he stops you. You whine when your mouth’s left empty, robbed from the want to see him come in your mouth.

“Wanna be inside you.”, his finger curl under your chin, helping you get up, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate, his hands are on your hips, before travelling under your shirt.

In a swift motion, he throws your body on his bed once again, before he towers you.

“Y/N, do you want this ?”, he asks, and how careful he is now compared to the way he spoke before makes you genuinely smile. You take things into your own hands, quickly taking your shirt off, leaving your bra on for Mark to take off. “Mark.”, you call out softly, and your arms like behind his head again. He hums, the college student looks like he’s in a daze, eyes wondering on your covered breasts. His face comes down once again, nose nuzzling against your cheek as he takes a deep breath, and that’s when you realize how fast your heart is beating. Despite that, your lean into his touch, closing your eyes, “Fuck me, wanna feel you.”

It’s all he needs to take things into his own hands, a shaky breath leaves his lips as he nods to himself. He can’t tease himself or tease you further, at this point, he just wants to be inside of you, be one, and take you. So, he does. His right hand aligns himself with your entrance, his eyes leave your figure for a split second before he finds your eyes again. You have to break the eye contact when he finally enters up, head stretching your walls even though his fingers prepared you moment prior.

Your eyes roll back as he gradually slides in, “There you go, fuck.”, sweet nothings are whispered into your ear, his right arm sneak under your back to keep you close, he wants to mold his body against yours, feel every breathe you take and sense every vibration from every moan, feel the sighs you let out die on his skin. His left forearm planted next to your hand, he used his leverage and chase after your lips again before moving his hips.

You, feel everything, every vein, especially when he slides out and rams in. You can’t keep up with the kiss, your head is thrown back, your body almost follows the movement and hikes up his bed, but he holds you close. You understand he’s been waiting to do this for a while, with the way he lets his cock move in and out of you in a slow pace, but still manages to thrust deep, so deep.

“You feel so fucking good. O-h god, Mark, babe.”, you cry out, in pure bliss, as Mark hides his face in the crook of your neck, the way you moan his name gets to his head a bit too quickly, it poison his mind and makes him lose any self-control he had. He who wanted to take things slow at first doesn’t keep up with his internal promise for long, he craves to hear more of your moans, more of his name falling from your lips in lust. The brunette picks up in pace, he gets rough, hips slapping against your own.

You’re surprise his bed isn’t moving more than that, actually, you’re glad. His bedframe would’ve banged against the wall of his room, your mouth agape. Your moans flow freely, maybe a bit too freely for Mark’s neighbour’s and integrity, god knows he would’ve let you be as loud as you wanted if he could.

“Tsk.”, a tired smile stretches his lips, his left hand finds your throat again and you welcome it with appreciation, letting the young man tighten his grip on the side of you neck. “Little slut is so loud.” You shake your head from left to right, you didn’t want to be, one of your hands leave Mark’s body so you can bite down on it and hopefully muffle your noises. But, the young men doesn’t like this idea so much, his left hand now wraps around your wrist, and before you know it, it’s stuck to his bedframe.

You blink, did he just ? Did he just use his powers on you ?

From the slight smirk he has on his face, on the white, web-like substance around your wrist, he just did.

“I never said I didn’t like it.”, he muses, before his thumb sneaks in your mouth, forcing your mouth open. Then, he gives one particularly hard thrust, one that actually sends your body up his bed, one that has you moaning loud enough that his entire floor probably heard.

“Holy sh-. Do that again.”, you could beg, at this point, eyes watery, and he doesn’t hesitate do to so. Your second orgasm comes so quickly, clenching around him.

“So greedy, you’re gripping me.”, he articulates between clenched teeth, you know he’s as close, but you’re so lost in him that you just nod, you stop trying to free your hand and grip his dark locks, trying to archer yourself to something, anything. Half opened eyes search for his, you mumble about how close you are as his left hand finds the bed sheet. He doesn’t hide in your neck, Mark lets you hear exactly how good you make him feel, he lets you see him. The thin layer of sweat on his hairline, his locks messy from your hands, the rose hue over his chest, the red lines your created creeping on his sides.

“Make me feel so good, fuck.”, you babble, Mark pulls you closer to his chest, “Come around me, wanna feel you.”, and it’s all you need. Like an order your body registers in this split second, you come a second time, a second orgasm that leaves you breathless. The air is knocked out of your lungs, you’re sure the entire building heard you moan out Mark’s name.

On the other hand, the young men follows quickly behind you, only needed that one last clench for him to let the sinful liquid spill inside of you. He comes in a few long, moaning frantically. Visibility, it leaves him tired as well. Mark doesn’t even take his shaft out, his body lazily lays on top of you without crushing you, a reassuring weight on top of you own tired body. The both of you just lay there, tired and maybe a bit choked, surprised, in a good way. It’s when Mark chuckles next to you that you dare and look at him. Your hair’s probably a mess, lips red and wet, makeup ruined, but Mark still runs a hand on your cheek, a sweet gesture you lean into, reassured. “What ?”

It’s almost comical, how his eyes turn from sharp and lust-filled to the sweet and joyful eyes you grew up around, the one that remind you of home. He looks up at your wrist, still firmly stuck to the bed frame, you almost forgot about it.

“What do you call a spider into BDSM ?”

#spiderverse project #bed of spiderwebs #neovisioned #spiderman!mark #spiderman!nct #mark lee #mark lee smut #nct #neo culture technology #nct smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct u #nct u smut #super m #super m smut #mark #college!au #mark smut

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madhyanas · 4 years ago

Text

there can be no oceans

It's only when the Child needs a bath that Din realises his ship doesn't have one.

Read this on AO3!

Characters: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning(s): One mention of ‘spice’ as a drug. Set sometime soon after Chapter 4: Sanctuary. No spoilers for S2.

Notes: i! want! to write! more! character fics! so take this. thank you @pettyprocrastination for taking the time to read this beforehand <3

masterlist

———

The Crest wasn’t built for children.

Her walkways are narrow, interiors unpainted. Any room not taken up by essential utilities has long since been repurposed for weapons and munitions storage. There are no rounded corners, no softened edges; there is no baby-proofing to speak of. A capsule of robust, sturdy durasteel hurtling through the galaxy.

As reliable as she is, especially in the hands of Din’s capable piloting, the bare minimum the Crest offers to any inhabitants at all is an absence of jagged scrap metal jutting out to be slashed on. Which is as close to a miracle as he’s going to get, considering his ship’s survived being taken apart and stitched back together again.

Sometimes the visor’s sight catches on a slivered scar. The junction between the cockpit and ladder, the panel next to the hatch. He’ll look at it for a second, bumpy and gnarled, remembering the Crest’s shell scattered in pieces across desert rock. He’ll remember his ship, peeled to bits without mercy. Then he’ll brush his fingers over the soldered mark, and walk away.

But despite everything, the Crest is comfortable; Din can admit that her resilience, outlasting her age, is something he’s grown attached to. And when it comes to the very, very mundane, the kid seems to have pretty good instincts — doesn’t dangle over heights, doesn’t stick his hands into sockets and plug ports. His ship, in and of itself, doesn’t pose a threat to the little one. So long as he’s not left in the cockpit unsupervised.

It’s a minor weight off his shoulders that the kid’s content to amuse himself with that gear knob, occasionally gurgling commentary to Din — who has found “Is that so, kid?” to suffice as proof that he’s listening — and offering a satisfied, toothy grin. This is typically the point that Din feels his mouth pulling up into a crinkling smile, fond and proud.

It reminds him of something Omera told him in passing. Din hadn’t understood the phrase at the time, hadn’t ever needed to apply it in his day-to-day.

“You’re lucky,” she’d said knowingly. “He’s an easy baby.”

Thinking of mudhorns and mudjumpers and the kid’s inability to follow instructions, Din didn’t think it made much sense. He understands it now.

But, no — the Razor Crest, being a gunship and not a nanny droid, was not constructed for childcare. In all honesty, this hadn’t really occurred to Din beyond the obvious.

Until the kid needed a bath.

A bath that his ship does not have.

Din sighs, standing in the refresher doorway and staring at the slim sonic shower compartment. The Child waddles in curiously behind him, leaning on his boot with both arms hugging the ankle. He coos up at Din questioningly. There’s a slight twitch of his ears before he raises his arms. Two chubby fists clench and unclench repeatedly, a familiar demand.

Din promptly bends down to pick him up, angling him face forwards to stare at the offending compartment together.

“It’s a sonic shower,” Din explains. He frowns, wondering how to go about this. The kid smacks his lips idly. “Don’t think it’s meant for kids, buddy.”

Those wide, dark eyes suddenly turn to him with hope, but Din’s already shaking his head. “No.”

The kid blinks, multiple times. Din could swear the little monster’s batting his eyelashes. “No. You still need a bath, you’re not getting out of it that easy.”

In his arms, the kid deflates with a huff. His ears droop so quickly they bat against Din’s chest and quiet grumbles buzz through the cloth of his shirt.

It makes Din smile, part-amused and part-relieved. He’s never been very good at the whole ‘disciplinarian’ thing, especially not with a kid that can move things with his mind. It’s difficult to tell where to draw the line between kind and disapproving. He’s probably leaning more into the former.

“We’ll just have to… figure something out.”

He glances to the left. The sink is built into the wall, a nondescript metal bowl with a drain and tap. Din avoids looking at the mirror above. After so many years under the helmet, it doesn’t necessarily feel surreal. It’s simply odd to have visual confirmation of what he looks like.

The kid squirms in his arms, and Din blinks, slowly placing him back on the ground. He shuffles out of the ‘fresher quickly to whichever corner he’s chosen to play in today, his stuffy brown robe dragging slightly on the ground. Maybe that needs to be looked at.

Din looks back to the sink, figuring something out.

———

For all intents and purposes, the sonic shower is useful. Or perhaps that isn’t the right word, considering it just does what it’s supposed to.

It’s efficient, then. A way for Din to stay clean without worrying about the ship’s current water capacity. Whether it’s actually pleasant or not is another question, but one that’s never been important enough to be asked.

Now, though, Din thinks he’ll need to find a more permanent solution.

The sink in the ‘fresher has its own water supply, true. But it’s enough for Din to wash his hands and shave every few weeks at most. Since the New Republic started cracking down on smuggling circuits, the price of water transportation fit for hyperspace has spiked. A popular medium for diluted spice, apparently. So he’s careful with how much he uses up, wary of the ever-dwindling pile of credits to his name.

He kneels down next to the sink, craning his head to check behind a panel and exhaling sharply with the protesting ache of his neck. It’s a small slot for a liquid tanker, and Din soon realises it won’t be enough to fill a cup, much less the whole basin.

It won’t work.

———

This brings him to the next idea. Somewhat quickly, because the kid seems to have gotten into his head that no water means no bath. That’s probably bad handling on Din’s part.

There are sealed tanks of water stored in a hull compartment. Bulk-purchased and potable, for prolonged journeys and adverse conditions. Tanks that he’s loath to crack open when there’s water available elsewhere.

He lugs one into the fresher, and when he feels his lower back twinge with the effort, he makes sure to bear the brunt of the weight with his legs. Then his knees begin to strain. He sighs.

He passes by the kid on the way, sitting on the floor and gnawing on his metal ball with intense focus and adoration. He looks up at the sound of Din approaching, tilting his head sweetly at the tall canister.

Din takes it as a question, so he answers. “No idea, kid.”

When he does, finally, manage to shove the tank in the refresher and pour as much of it as he can into the sink’s water supply tube, the Child follows. His head turns from the half-empty tank, to Din, and back to the tank. As the ears swish with every movement, like palm leaves twitching and swaying in the breeze, Din watches the gears turn patiently. It’ll click.

Then the kid thwacks a hand on Din’s thigh, and very insistently garbles something with a firm nod. His approval is understood.

Din smiles. Lets it linger on his face, melt in his chest so warmly he can nearly ignore his aching joints. Gently, he places a hand on the little one’s head, rubbing the spot between his ears and eliciting a fond coo. “Thanks.”

———

That good mood doesn’t last very long when the kid realises, eventually, that bath time has arrived.

———

A tragic wail cuts through the Razor Crest.

From where he’s held over the ‘fresher sink, the kid screeches in Din’s hands, kicking his little legs in the air and keeping a vice grip on Din’s sleeves. Even the ears — those huge, petal bat-ears — are wiggling up and down in his efforts to escape.

“Hey,” Din says. He tries for stern, but it comes out mostly tired. “Hey. Stop that.”

The kid is either ignoring him, or just can’t hear it over the racket he’s making. He scrunches his eyes closed with newfound vigour and shrieks so loud it rings in Din’s ears. He winces.

The Crest’s refresher is built into a cramped corner of the hull. Fitted with a sonic shower, privy, sink and mirror, Din’s fairly certain there are graves dug bigger than this.

It’s never mattered before, since Din spends so little of his time in here anyway, but now he’s stuck in a broom closet — a metal one, with solid, echoing walls — with a screaming child.

Din sighs, with feeling. His headache, which hasn’t let up since the jump into hyperspace, throbs heavily behind his eyes and between his ears. For a second, he toys with the idea of turning off the helmet’s auditory sensors.

The kid had more or less been fine at first. From filling the sink to fetching the soap — a standard, unscented brand that Din only really stores for handwashing — to barely managing to tug his robe over those oversized ears. The kid had insisted on doing that last one himself, until he’d stumbled with the shift in centre of gravity and bowled himself over.

He’d been fine, until his stubby, clawed toes first dipped in the water.

It’s remarkable, Din realises as he looks down at the distraught child dangling from his hands. The kid hasn’t really cried for… for anything till now. At the most, Din just gets a dry, unamused look whenever he hasn’t followed the little overlord’s express wishes. Like eating wild frogs off the ground. Womp rat.

Hearing the repercussions now, it might not have been remarkable so much as just lucky. How does one so small have lungs so strong?

“All right,” Din calls. Trying to be gentle yet also heard over the noise at the same time is a challenge, so it comes out somewhat choked.

At his voice, the kid takes a breather. Literally, his round body heaves in Din’s hands, gasping for breath after his tantrum. Din eyes the tear tracks streaming from his wide, dark eyes, and his sniffling little nose. He can feel the kid’s ribcage pushing in and out rapidly beneath his fingers, stretchy like a balloon fitting in the palm of his hand. He hadn’t forgotten how tiny the kid is but — a lump settles in his throat at the reminder.

He feels his face fall. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, unsure of what he’s pleading for but feeling as if he’s wronged the Child anyway. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it would upset you so much.”

Whether it’s his tone or the words themselves, something brings the kid to peace. Though still hiccuping, his breathing evens out.

“That’s it,” Din encourages. “Deep breaths.”

He inhales, lifting his head and shoulders slightly with the movement to demonstrate, before lowering on the exhale.

The Child watches him for a moment, blinking wetly, before doing the same. His ears perk up and down with every breath. “That’s it,” Din repeats.

When he’s reasonably sure the Child won’t start bawling again, Din takes a second to rearrange the kid into sitting balanced on his forearm, facing him towards the mirror. With the other hand rubbing circles into the kid’s back, he addresses the reflection.

“Listen,” he starts seriously. The kid looks up, watching the helmet in the mirror’s shiny surface. “I get that you don’t like it. And I’m sorry I upset you. But you need a bath, so we have to figure something out.”

Din swallows, wondering how they’re going to do just that. The kid, in the meantime, clutches the shirt of Din’s sleeve in two grubby claws and starts chewing, not taking his eyes off the helmet for a second.

Just as he’s about to ask the kid to stop, or at least lay off a little so the fabric doesn’t tear, he gets an idea.

———

In the recent past, Din can’t really remember when things last went his way. So he’s almost confused when the third time really is the charm.

“That’s all it took, huh?”

The kid happily ignores him, watching the gear knob through the shallow, mildly-soaped water with fascination. He stares straight down, his ears sticking up like fresh reeds from a pond, enamoured with the sight of his favourite thing underwater. The concentration he uses to roll it around with both hands softens the corners of Din’s mouth.

You’d never guess the little womp rat was raising hell just minutes before.

Fetching the gear knob from outside was a last resort. He’d been grasping at straws, willing to take anything that would calm the kid down.

And it worked. Leading Din to scrub the bar of soap between his hands, trailing suds through the clouding water.

The temperature suits the kid just fine, apparently. With no way to heat the basin, Din had just… waited for it to get more or less lukewarm. Not ideal, not by a long shot. He’d clenched his jaw, uncomfortable and awkward in the face of yet another reminder that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Standing around doing nothing didn’t sit well with him. At one point he half-seriously considered getting the flamethrower out to speed things along.

But the Child, naturally, didn’t seem to mind. He now slaps his hands into his bird-bath pool with delight, relishing in the waves he can create. The pale, fuzzy hairs on that wrinkly head don’t so much as twitch, and Din has to wonder if the kid’s leathery skin has something to do with that tolerance.

A bubble wobbles into the air, fragile and translucent. A dark, watery gaze snaps to it immediately — the kind of precision only reserved for mudjumpers. The kid stills, and the gear knob is momentarily forgotten in favour of biting through the air to catch the floating parlour trick between sharp, pointy teeth.

Pop. Smack on the kid’s mouth. A light burst of soap residue sprays on the kid’s face, and the squeak of a sneeze he lets out pushes him an inch backwards in the basin.

Din can’t imagine how a thing could be that tiny.

“Nice job,” he offers quietly, because a successful hunt is something to be praised. He gives the kid’s face a once-over — with eyes so big, it’s impressive that the soap missed them entirely. The kid whines disagreeably; he evidently doesn’t care much for the flavour. His button nose wrinkles, and he bounces again with a cough.

Din chuckles. The sound rings in time with water sloshing over the lip of the sink.

“Maybe save the hunting for outside,” he advises, patting the kid on the back. The Child looks up at him mournfully, as if to agree, before returning to the gear knob resting by his foot. A new game is begun; shoving the metal ball so that it rolls halfway up the sink’s bowl before returning straight back, like magic. Every metallic scrape brings a new ripple of laughter.

He should be more mindful of how there’s more water on the floor than in the basin, now. But there are always more tanks in the brig.

In a series of excited, comprehensive babbles, the kid begins explaining the rules of his new game to Din, who listens closely. He interjects here and there to show the kid as much, but is otherwise just a spectator to the kid’s lecture.

Then for a moment, without thought, he looks up. Straight ahead, into the mirror. And he almost can’t recognise the sight.

It’s his helmet, obviously. Comforting; beskar gleaming as much as the day it was first given to him. Unchanged. Same height, same clothes.

But his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, baring inches of skin and several wiry scars. The front of his dark, woven shirt is darker still with the water lapping over the sink’s edge, a sodden patch forming over his abdomen. He feels some of it drip onto his boots and the floor. His hands are covered in suds, tenderly but thoroughly scrubbing the edge of one floppy green ear.

The kid, sitting satisfied and unaware with his cherished toy, makes the image look complete.

Din looks at the man in the mirror, giving his son a bath in the sink. He thinks that his image probably needed a reset anyway.

Then, with something caring and delicate fluttering in his chest, he moves on to the baby’s claws. He makes sure to scrub between the fingers.

———

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jeogiyall · 4 years ago

Text

Two To Tango; C.SN

❥𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟷𝟾.𝟺𝑘

❥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥 (𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇), 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝘴𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀; 𝕚𝕕𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖, 𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠 (𝙖𝙧𝙞’𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚!)

❥𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝕩 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳! 𝗒/𝗇 (ʏ/ɴ ɪs ɪɴ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ)

❥𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗐𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍!); 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅/𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕪 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂'𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝐩𝐠𝟷𝟹 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾- 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐬𝗺𝐮𝐭!!

❥𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾! 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗂 𝖽𝗈 ☺︎☻ -𝕒𝕣𝕚

“What do you think, Y/N?”

You had never seen choreo anything like this before.

Which was a fairly bold statement on your part, seeing as you'd had plenty of exposure to all kinds of dances. Being the lead dancer of your group, you'd trained in almost every category out there during your years in the academy, mastering each technique and style one by one.

But sensual?

You'd never been trained to dance to sensual choreography.

This was likely the reason you appeared so floored when Mimi, your company's head of collaborative marketing (and your personal manager) shared her latest idea with you, something about a duet dance with another idol; she said that bringing such a foreign concept into a collaboration stage would give your group the increase of attention that you so desperately needed.

You couldn't disagree with her logic. It was much harder than it seemed for a group to stay afloat in the idol industry.

"Y/N," Mimi was explaining to you, "I know I speak on behalf of the entire company when I tell you that you are the most talented dancer to walk through these doors. If anyone can pull off this stage, it's you."

You felt your cheeks flush from the professional compliment, but you were still trying to wrap your mind around the brief choreography video you'd just been shown.

You absolutely loved to dance; you always have, ever since you were old enough to walk.

From ballet classes when you were four years old to jazz and tap in your tweens, then modern hip hop and interpretive in your adolescent years, and then from a dance major onwards to learning choreography with your group after debuting a year ago- you were always dancing. It was a piece of your life that held so much meaning, so much joy, that you don't think you'd ever be able to live without it.

So maybe this is why you decide to ditch your initial disbelief at the proposal, your mind opening up a little to the idea. After all, the worst thing that could happen would be a failed stage, and you're sure that the company wouldn't have too much trouble sweeping things under the rug if that happened. How bad could it be, right?

You eventually give in to Mimi's attempts at persuading you, your face breaking out into a grin. You're sure that if you say yes, you'll wonder for the next two weeks who your partner will be from the group you're collaborating with; but you also know that it'll kill you inside to say no.

You nod firmly once Mimi asks you again if you're okay with this. You've made up your mind that you definitely are; you push off any lingering doubts about the sensual stage, and the feelings left behind are ones of excitement and anticipation.

Mimi is visibly pleased, and her happiness is infectious as she claps her hands together joyfully. "It's settled then! I'll let the team from KQ know that both parties are in agreement." She announces with a broad smile.

When you leave the conference room, you feel butterflies in your stomach instead of dread, and a sudden eagerness arises at the prospect of learning a brand-new type of dance.

You can't wait to see what will happen in two weeks.

Day One- 8:53 A.M

You step into your new joint studio building two weeks later, a bright smile on your face and your first-day jitters pushed to the back of your mind.

You're beyond curious to see which member of Ateez you'll be paired with for the collaboration; you secretly hoped it would be Song Mingi, as he was alluring to you both through dance and through his abnormally deep voice. (Okay, so maybe you had a bias already. There was surely no harm in that though, right?)

Mimi was now urging you to make your way up the three flights of stairs as fast as possible, having ditched the building's elevator in favor of a quicker route. There had been a mixup at your company that morning with transportation, which made you more than twenty minutes late- you were supposed to arrive at 8:30.

You could only pray that the hired choreographer wouldn't hold it against you, and that they'd still give you time to properly warm up.

Your nerves are starting to resurface when you push open the doors to your practice room. Both of the occupants have their backs to you, bending over a stereo system along the wall without a mirror. Your manager bids you a hasty goodbye and exits the same way you just came, and you're struggling to catch your breath, standing in the middle of the room gripping the strap of your dance bag for dear life.

The choreographer leaves the stereo to greet you, giving you a warm smile as he introduces himself.

You've looked forward to meeting your instructor for a while now, and you bow to the man respectfully while doing your best to repress the childish glee bubbling up within you, not wanting to seem unprofessional.

Your thoughts are so consumed with greeting the choreographer that you fail to notice the other figure in the room turning to face you.

"Hello, Y/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you!" The choreographer says. "My name is Jung Deojun, and I look forward to working with you for this stage." You set your bag down and grab an elastic for your hair, still focused on Deojun. "The pleasure is all mine," you respond, "I truly admire your work."

Jung Deojun is happy to hear the compliment, and you're opening your mouth to ask him about his most popular moves when you finally, finally come face-to-face with your new partner.

To say he was handsome would be the understatement of the year.

While you obviously hadn't been paired with who you'd hoped for, (Mingi, the tall rapper) you weren't upset in the slightest. The dancer was standing to the side with his arms crossed over his chest, and the sight was enough to make you want to wipe your hand along your chin just to check if you were drooling.

Any words you'd been preparing to say died on the tip of your tongue as you surveyed your partner. Tall, lean, and stupidly gorgeous, he radiated an aura of confidence and striking intensity that both scared you and intrigued you. His shirt dipped low enough to make your heart skip a beat, and it looked too good on him for him to be standing there in the studio.

His eyes were dark and seemed to pierce straight into your soul- though you had to wonder just how well he was able to see you from behind his long black hair.

He was, without question, the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. But why the hell did he look so pissed?

You gulp down your wave of apprehension and stick out your hand towards him, waiting for him to take it (seeing as that would be the polite thing to do).

"Hello, I'm Y/N of Star Entertainment." You manage to stumble through your self-introduction despite his less than encouraging reaction. He makes no move to shake your outstretched hand, so you awkwardly pull it back and continue talking, "I look forward to dancing with y-"

"You're late."

You hope you don't look as much like a fish as you feel; his monotonous interruption has your mouth opening and closing repeatedly as you try to remember what you'd been about to say.

"I'm sorry," you eventually gather your thoughts long enough to respond. "There was a mixup with transportation from my company, and my manager ended up having to take me herself-"

"I don't care what happened, just don't be late again. It's rude." The guy cuts you off again, visibly impatient. You hold back a scoff at his words; he's definitely one to be talking about rude.

"The name's Choi San." He adds, but he sounds almost bored, as if he'd rather be anywhere else but with you at this very moment.

You don't deem any answer necessary. You hardly trust yourself not to make a jab back at him, but can you be blamed?

You're more than a little peeved that your partner, the man you've been wanting to meet for two very long weeks, seems to have a giant stick up his ass; but you reason out that it's got something to do with the first-day nerves you're sure must be racing through him, too.

At least, that's what you tell yourself as you begin warming up, walking away from the entrance and hoping to escape the rising tension.

Meanwhile San is cursing every dance god out there for sticking him with you. Not because he despises dancing with other people or because he doesn't want to dance with you- but because he's the exact opposite.

He loves dancing with his entire being, and he expected his new partner to love it just as much as he did.

So it was fairly annoying for him to arrive thirty minutes early that morning, excited and eager to get to dancing, and then have to wait nearly another half an hour after the first day was scheduled to begin just for you to get there.

That being said, San almost regrets snapping at you- it wasn't your fault you weren't on time.

But when he catches a glimpse of your pinched, offended expression through the mirror while you take your sweet time warming up, the idea of apologizing immediately flees his head.

He couldn't believe how many prissy dancers there were in the kpop industry- and he was certain that you would just be one more he'd have to work with.

So far, things were not off to a very promising start.

Day Four- 10:15 A.M

"Guys, I think you need to take a quick break." Jung Deojun says as he presses pause on the stereo.

You're more than happy to do so, jumping out of San's grasp so quickly you're concerned you may have pulled a muscle. San has no complaints about the break either; he springs away from you as if you have a contagious disease, and he's intent on not catching whatever disease that may be.

The first day hadn't gone nearly as well as you'd hoped it would. After the initial shock and irritation upon meeting him, you gave San as little attention as you could, and he did the same to you.

Or he tried to do the same.

You both seemed to have forgotten the key concept of the entire dance: sensuality.

And although it was only the first day, the cold and tense atmosphere between the two of you did nothing but increase throughout your time together in the studio- a factor that didn't settle well with your choreographer when you were meant to be dancing as if you were madly in love.

By the end of the second day, you were positive you and San were only ever meant to be enemies. It was like every move he made was done specifically to annoy you, and you had to admit that if that was the case, then it was working like a charm.

The way he spoke to you- when he bothered to speak at all- was so insensitive and cocky that you wanted to clock him in the face. He never cheered you on when you got another step down; all he'd said to you during the past forty-eight hours was backhanded comments on the technique you should have, or how you should move to accommodate him better.

This wasn't how dance was supposed to be.

Two people were supposed to move in sync, in the same fluid motion when they danced together; but with him, it was all give and no take.

Of course, it didn't help that you went rigid as a board every time he so much as shifted towards you.

He wanted to get along with you at first, he really did. But you were making it so difficult to be friendly when you made zero effort to put any feeling into the dance moves that required him to touch you, that any hope he had of being your friend went flying out of the window.

He'd been ready to quit right then and there during your third day in the studio, when you outright refused to let him do the first truly sensual move of the choreography about forty seconds in. San would barely even be able to graze your sides with his fingertips before you jumped away, giving him a steely look that made him all the more eager to push your buttons.

He reasoned that if you were going to be such a priss about things, then there was no danger in him getting you all riled up while you practiced.

And as if you weren't already stressed out by his antics, you were also highly aware of the pressure that was on you guys to learn the dance by the end of the month- you had only five weeks to completely master the choreography for the collaboration stage and for the performance video.

You wished the song wasn't so long- there were six and a half total minutes of choreography, and you'd only gone through about two minutes of it all.

To make things worse, the steps you'd learned so far didn't look good by any means. Jung Deojun knew it would most likely take another week or two just to get to the halfway point, at the rate things were going now.

You knew that the clock was ticking; this morning marked your fourth day at the studio.

Deojun's goal was for you and San to get a feel for each move you learned as you learned it, which was why it had taken so long to memorize such a small chunk of the song.

His philosophy was that people can learn two ways: they can learn it all and perfect it later, or they can learn it all perfectly the first time with a little more effort. (It was very clear which way of learning you and your partner were going through based on how many times you'd pressed 'restart' on the stereo.)

You made sure you arrived on time each morning after that first day, not wanting another reason for San to pick on you. Currently, the two of you were tackling the first moderately sized snippet of the song, the buildup to the chorus. You'd been at it for around two hours today, and you didn't seem to be making any real progress.

There's a move where you and San need to glide across the floor and into each other's personal space, and he's supposed to trail his hands slowly up along your sides to cradle your head. Your step is to push San away from you and then grab him by the collar to bring him right back until you were practically breathing the same air; and while the pushing away part was the easiest thing you'd learned so far, tugging him towards you again was proving to be difficult to do without scowling.

That same scowl threatens to appear after another hour of practice when San tosses you a Snickers bar from his bag, and you look down at it accusingly without picking it up from the floor.

"This isn't exactly part of my company's diet regulations, San." You huff, knowing you'd like nothing more than to eat the candy bar right this very second but remembering you can't eat anything if it isn't on your meal plan.

San just raises an eyebrow and motions for you to pick it up anyways. "I thought you'd want it. I mean, you're not you when you're hungry, so maybe if you had a Snickers bar then you'd be more fun to work with."

You don't bother hiding your lethal expression from him.

"Choi San," you hiss, "I swear once we finish doing this dance I'm actually going to strangle you."

Your choreographer chooses to break up the conversation at this moment, not hearing the whispered reply of 'kinky' that makes your blood boil.

"Alright you two, that's enough," Jung Deojun cuts in. "You don't seem to be comfortable with each other yet, so why don't we all sit down and take some time to eat lunch? You've worked hard anyways, so you deserve to rest." He offers.

While the idea of actually sitting down to eat your salad, instead of inhaling it between sessions, sounds incredibly tempting, you know you'll be too busy fuming to really enjoy a lunch break.

You kick the Snickers bar back towards San and put on a bright smile for Deojun.

"No, thank you, I'd rather get back to practicing. We've got a long way to go." You give your partner another nasty look with your last statement, implying that he's most of the problem.

This implication doesn't go unnoticed by him, and he actually has the nerve to wink at you. To wink- as if he isn't the legitimate most infuriating human being on the planet. You ball your hands into fists to refrain from pulling at your hair in frustration.

San watches on in dry amusement; he never saw it coming, but he's quickly discovered that he loves to get a rise out of you. He chalks it up to the simple fact that you interact the most with him when you're angry.

Sensing the tension in the room, Deojun shakes his head and insists on taking a real break for lunch. He doesn't miss the exchange of killer glares between you and San, and it brings a frown to his face as you begin to argue with your partner over the offending Snickers bar.

Jung Deojun has taught many choreographies in his time as a dancer. He's quite honestly lost track of the number of pairs he's worked with who had no chemistry together, or the countless dancer duos who simply didn't warm up to the other person.

He has also seen his fair share of enemies on the dance floor- the exes, the competitors, and even one couple who broke up in the middle of a rehearsal.

And yet, despite all of this, he has never seen anyone who fights quite as passionately as you and San.

But rather than getting annoyed at your nearly constant bickering, he finds himself feeling curious about it; he wants to know why your animosity towards each other seems to run so deep when you'd only met three days ago.

And frankly, he wants to see just how thin the line is between love and hate.

Your instructor sighs loudly once your voice raises in volume, wanting to roll his eyes at the childish feud taking place over a piece of candy- though it seems the argument has gotten to the point of being ridiculously useless, and Deojun is sure that one of you is bound to give it up in the next few seconds.

Your accusations of San being a total jerk continue to fall on deaf ears as he quickly proves the choreographer correct, checking out of the argument altogether by pulling his phone out and playing on it.

San's rude behavior makes you want to stomp your foot angrily like a petulant toddler, but you don't.

You instead go silent, biting your lip and getting yourself together because you are a mature and professional dancer- unlike someone- and you're already very embarrassed that Deojun has seen how worked up you get over your partner.

So in an attempt to save face, you take a deep breath, count to ten, and walk to the mini refrigerator in the corner of the studio to grab your lunch.

Deojun seems relieved that the Snickers spat is over, and immediately invites you into a less irritating conversation as you take a seat on the floor beside him.

"So, Y/N, what do you do for fun besides dance?" He asks you. You have to think for a moment about that.

What do you do when you're not rehearsing or promoting?

"Well, I spend most of my time dancing, but I guess I like to hang out with my group between promotions." You eventually come up with an answer.

"What do you do with your friends when you're hanging out?" Your instructor prompts. You shrug and finish eating the forkful of salad before you reply, "We normally go out to the city together to walk around, listening to live music and visiting cute cafés or restaurants."

San nearly snorts at how typical your response is until you add as an afterthought, "But we never have time for those things anymore."

Jung Deojun asks you "why not?" and you tell him, "We practice nearly sixteen hours a day together, and when we aren't in our studio, we're in our dorms perfecting every dance movement or every song for our company. We can't afford to slip up with so much at stake, so we just kind of... I don't know, stopped going out."

San acts like he isn't listening; but in reality he's paying close attention to your words, and he tells himself it's only because he needs more ammunition to use in order to tease you later.

You continue to elaborate on your struggles as an idol to Deojun, and it feels good to be able to talk about the pressure being put on your shoulders with someone other than your managers.

"When I first started training to become an idol, I was always content to just dance for the sake of dancing. I wasn't used to the expectation that I had to be better than someone else; I honestly never thought the competition would happen off of the stage. It caught me off guard when I realized I'd have to fight for every chance to do what I love, and even after making it into an agency and debuting in a group, we're still always fighting to be on top, to be the best."

"And to me dance was never about being the best. It's about expressing something you feel, something so deep words can't explain it well enough." You shrug, and you miss the fond smile of your instructor as he remembers the days where he was in your shoes.

San lost interest in his phone a while ago; instead he now holds his lunchbag in his hands.

And when you turn your head to steal a glance at him, you find that he's giving you the first non-irritating look you've seen on his face since the day you met.

Well then.

You certainly hadn't expected to see that reaction- nor had San intended for you to catch it.

If he's being honest with himself, he never really thought he'd connect with you, especially after the disastrous first day together. But your words resonate deeply within him, to a point where he thinks that maybe, you might not be quite as uptight as you appear.

He finds himself hoping that that's the case; hoping that there's more to you than just a prissy lead dancer who refuses to loosen up.

It makes your stomach twist to see him look at you with anything other than annoyance or spite. If you didn't know any better, you would say that it almost seems like he's... impressed? Like he might not hate your guts after all?

But you'd be stupid to forget how intently you despised each other just a few minutes ago, how you bickered over that candy bar; and the sudden change in his demeanor has left your head spinning.

Whatever it is, you're not sure why it affects you as much as it does, so you ignore it and keep talking to Deojun so that you don't have to engage with San until you're done eating.

To make things even more confusing, once your lunch break is over and you begin to go through the choreo again, he isn't throwing his usual insults and criticisms your way like he had done every afternoon for the past week.

You're not sure what to make of the unspoken truce- and you're not sure why it unnerves you as much as it does. But San is acting totally opposite of how he's been acting so far, and it lasts through the remainder of your fourth day.

He doesn't even bother to give you a half-assed "you're too stiff" the way he normally would.

You have to force yourself not to think about how easily the routine flows when you aren't arguing; and you can't help but wonder whether this random, unofficial friendship will last- and if it does, then what changed?

But when the fourth day ends and you walk into the studio the following morning, he's back to wearing his cocky little smirk and teases you for the Starbucks frappuccino in your hand, telling you that it's fake coffee and reminding you of how against your meal plan the drink is.

You nearly cringe at yourself for thinking things would ever change between the two of you in such a short amount of time. But, if you're really being upfront, you can't pretend as though you don't look forward to pushing his buttons each day, getting immense satisfaction from knowing you get on his nerves just as much as he gets on yours.

Jung Deojun, on the other hand, is simply looking forward to the day you guys get through learning the steps so that he can sit back and watch the sparks flying through his studio.

Day Twelve- 4:55 P.M

Deojun is out using the restroom down the hallway at the end of your twelfth day, and it's just you and your partner standing together in the mirror while he's gone. You're intentionally avoiding San's piercing gaze as you stretch out your sore limbs, choosing to move towards the stereo so you can play the music one more time before the end of today's session.

He had been driving you crazy throughout this entire past week. It was the usual stuff at first: pointless arguing, name-calling, bickering, and insults flung at each other for no good reason.

And then, something shifted.

On the sixth day of choreo, you waltzed through the studio doors with a bright smile and your hair down out of your ponytail, looking a bit windblown. You'd woken up late that day but you were still determined not to be late to practice, so you didn't have time to put your hair up or grab your coffee.

It was the day when San noticed just how hard it had become for him to take his eyes off of you; but how could he not stare when you come twirling into the room like you've been dancing with the wind and looking as if you've just been kissed by the sun?

You'd caught him staring more times than you could count on that sixth day, and while it unnerved you a little, you couldn't deny the pleasurable rush you got from knowing he was looking.

But it did make things a little more tense when you had your pointless arguments; you weren't sure how to curse him out when he looked at you with that strange glint in his eye- the glint that made you question if you even really hated him in the first place.

The tension only skyrocketed after that. By the tenth day, the pressure between you and San was so strong that it was bound to explode any time now. A new side of your (already strained) relationship had developed- in addition to his irritating habits and your stinging insults, you now shared burning glances, soft touches, and the feeling of wanting just a little bit more.

The change wasn't entirely unwelcome, much to your dismay. You hadn't expected him to affect you the way that he did; but when you find that your skin sears instead of crawls when his hand brushes against you, you know that you can no longer ignore the magnetic pull between your bodies, the one you're secretly begging yourself to cave into each time he holds you close during the dance.

But just because you aren't able to ignore the pull towards San doesn't mean that you won't try.

You keep your back to him as you approach the equipment; but you can hear his footsteps right behind you when you walk to the other side of the studio, and you have a hunch that he won't go away without bothering you.

San follows you until you reach the sound system and you huff in annoyance before you turn around to face him.

"Shouldn't you be stretching right now, Fireboy?" You ask tiredly, hoping he'll get the point and stop closing in on your personal space.

You didn't intend to call him that- you've referred to him as Fireboy in your mind for a while now, the title fitting his disposition perfectly; one minute he was smoky as embers, and the next he was blazing with heat. Like an unpredictable wildfire.

He shakes his head and answers ironically, "Nope, I'm already all cooled down for the day, Miss Priss."

You go back to the stereo, thinking that the discussion is through, and you practically jump three feet in the air when he spins you around again, the hand gripping your waist not making you nearly as mad as you'd wanted it to.

You can't move backwards at all with the stereo poking into your spine, but you've got nowhere to run once San places his free hand on the wall next to you, successfully trapping you. You wish the action pissed you off enough to push him away- but your hands fall weakly against his chest, and the sudden contact makes your pulse race.

"San, what the hell are you doing?" You ask him, exasperation evident in your voice.

San flashes his stupid smirk and leans closer to your body, making your cheeks flush at the proximity. "I thought maybe we should try to get rid of some of the tension Deojun keeps talking about, since it's interfering with the dance. Don't you agree, Y/N?"

You sneer at him and shove his chest harder.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You reply sharply, "The dance is perfectly fine San, you're being ridiculous. We aren't even done learning the choreo yet, so have some patience." San's smirk only grows, along with your annoyance.

You eye him distastefully and give him a once-over before looking to the doorway, continuing to insult him despite the way his sleeveless shirt makes your heart flutter. "But something tells me that patience isn't really in your vocabulary, is it?"

And just like that, you find yourself holding back a noise of surprise when his hand grips your chin like a silken vice, forcing you to keep your gaze trained on him. You're helpless to his strong hold and the feeling of his body heat radiating against your skin is messing with your head, further supporting your idea that this man is a scorching ball of fire; even his touch is hot enough to burn.

You fight off a shudder when he refuses to break eye contact. The cocky grin is gone, replaced with some foreign expression that you don't think you want to put a label on just yet.

He dips his head down next to your ear. His next words, mixed with the way his hair tickles your face, manage to send sparks through your veins as he murmurs, "You know, princess, I wasn't expecting you to be so damn bratty."

You have to remind yourself that the sentence is, in fact, offensive- and that you should be getting mad at him for it right about now.

Thankfully that part always comes easy to you.

"Oh, so I'm the brat?" You retort sarcastically. You poke a finger into his chest and question him further, "I'm the bratty one for showing up late one time and getting shit about it from you before you even told me your name?"

San's grip tightens as you speak, but you're so focused on chewing him out that you hardly even register it.

"Please enlighten me as to how I'm the brat when it's always you who has a problem with something." At this point you've forgotten that you're only venting about him to distract yourself from his touch, and now you're just plain pissed off.

"Honestly, I thought you were at least a little bit brighter than this, Fireboy. Anyone with a brain would be able to tell that the only brat here is you, but you're so set on being 'holier-than-thou' every second of the day that you don't even bother to see it. You're such a child." Your words are positively scathing.

San has had enough of your sassy remarks and cuts your rant short, "Oh come on Y/N, you don't seriously believe I'm the only one to blame. You're not as innocent as you try to appear, Miss Priss; don't think I've forgotten the names you call me when you think Deojun isn't listening. You're as much at fault here as I am. As a matter of fact, I'd go as far as to say that the 'childish' one is you."

"And this is coming from the one who called me 'more useless than an appendix' not even twenty minutes ago, right?" You scoff.

He rolls his eyes at your quotation of his most recent insult and says, "Cut the crap and just admit it already."

But between the compromising position, the bite in his voice, and the sheer irritation coursing through your body, you're getting sick and tired of your partner's little mind games.

"What do you mean?" You ask, "Admit what? What're you playing at?"

"Admit that you're no different than any other self-absorbed, uptight lead dancer I've worked with, and you only hate me because you wanted to be paired with another idol." He answers, every syllable causing you to see red. "You're just a classic prissy princess who won't cooperate when you don't get your way, and you're refusing to do the dance right because I'm not the one you wanted to dance with. It's stereotypical lead dancer behavior, and you know it."

Oh.

Oh hell no.

Did he really just call you self-absorbed and prissy?

If you weren't already mad enough, then now you're practically seething. San knows purely by the look on your face that he's fucked up, that he's taken things a little too far- but both of you are too wound up right now for him to try and make amends.

It's all he can do to stay impassive when you shove his hand away from your chin and grab fistfuls of his shirt, roughly bringing him down to your level.

"Choi fucking San," You curse, "you take that back this minute, you piece of shit."

His eyes drop to your mouth- a mistake that has enough meaning to turn the tables in your favor in an instant.

It's a mistake, one simple mistake. Just one small moment of indulgence as he memorizes the curve of your lips; yet all sanity immediately vanishes from his mind at the sudden urge he has to kiss you senseless, to shut you up in the most romantic way possible.

He's fighting the urge so hard that he doesn't even think about the next four words out of his mouth- Mistake Number 2.

"And if I don't?"

Your knuckles are turning white from the grip on his collar; you come to the realization that maybe your heart is beating a bit too fast for someone who's arguing with a mere dance partner.

You end up making Mistake Number Three- you don't release your hold on his shirt, and you don't push him away when his head drifts closer down to yours.

Three strikes and you're out.

"Then I'm walking out of this room and never dancing with you again." You pray your voice sounds at least half as spiteful as it did at the beginning of all this, but you aren't sure.

San finally tears his gaze away from your lips and is back to giving you a blazing glare. Part of him hopes you can see the passion and desire burning behind his expression so that you'll understand he doesn't really mean it when he snaps, "Fine with me, princess."

It's the same part of him that secretly thrives off of the electric tension and the lingering hands; the side of him that wants to hold you just a little longer when the music stops.

He really hopes he isn't going crazy when he thinks he sees that side in you, too.

"Fine," You snap back halfheartedly as the fight goes out of you all at once, "have it your way."

You both know your words are empty.

Unlike San, you have been intentionally unaware of how your body reacts to your partner, constantly choosing to ignore the tugging in your gut when you go through the choreo with him.

You always did your best to diffuse the tension that crackles between you two every time you dance; but the more choreography you learn, the harder it is to keep acting as though you aren't drawn to San like a moth to a flame.

You can whine and argue and call him names all day (you already do). But under the loathsome looks and sharp words, you can't deny the underlying attraction you feel to him.

You try with all your might to remind yourself of how insufferable he can be, but it's no use; the anger drains out of you the second you notice how close San still is to you. Your hands are still attached to his shirt, his face is an inch from yours, and his arms are on either side of you, with the stereo still poking into your spine.

Even the thick atmosphere around the room seems to be holding its breath as you both stay put in this position, wondering who would make the first move.

You think you should probably get going; after all, you've just given him the dance ultimatum. Shouldn't you be hightailing it out of the studio and never looking back...

...but you never get to finish that thought.

Because the second that the thought crosses your mind, San is reaching up to take your face in his hand, his heated touch softer than you would've ever guessed it to be.

His fingers skim your cheek delicately, with all the grace of a musician playing his instrument; your eyes begin to flutter closed in expectation for what is about to happen, and you unknowingly lean into the palm of his hand, not putting up a fight.

But you wouldn't dare fight against what's surely happening now- not after having the image of it plague your nights for weeks on end.

He's closer than he's ever been. He doesn't stop; he comes closer, and closer, and closer...

And then, your rotten luck seems to remember it's purpose in your life.

Jumping back in to ruin the moment, it causes your elbow to bump against the stereo and the music comes on at top volume, shattering your eardrums. It's all that the moment needed to come to a screeching halt before disappearing completely.

You wince at the sudden noise and release your grasp on San's shirt, pushing him away from you to tend to the sound system. You quickly turn the music off and put a hand over your racing heart.

San feels like he's rooted in his place, and he can't erase the image in his head of what was about to happen.

He can't shake the way you so easily leaned into his touch; the way he knew he was definitely going to kiss you, and how you were definitely going to let him. He nearly shouts when you break contact to shut the stereo up, leaving him high and dry, waiting for a fire that is no longer burning.

The clock on the wall snaps both of you back into reality, chiming to signal the end of your twelfth day- and for the first time since all of this began, you're reluctant to leave the studio.

What now?

You give San an uneasy look, an awkward smile tugging at your lips. "I, um, I guess I'll be going now." You tell him.

You're expecting him to shoo you off, to comment about how you insisted you weren't coming back once you left today; but he can't bring himself to tease you when he's still feeling so vulnerable.

The idea of insulting you is suddenly unappealing when he realizes that he would much rather be kissing you.

"Yeah, me too." He replies simply; and that's all there is to it. There's no more bickering, no more teasing or conversation once he bids you goodbye.

You stumble over your words like a runner over a hurdle. "See you tomorrow, Fireboy."

You're the first to leave the room, grabbing your bag and making a beeline for the exit. You have no idea what just went down, but you have a sneaking suspicion that things will be much, much different by this time tomorrow.

Meanwhile San is still glued to where he stood next to the stereo, cursing himself for letting you leave without doing what he's wanted to do since the day you argued over the Snickers.

Day Sixteen- 8:35 AM

On the morning of your thirteenth day of practice, Jung Deojun thinks the world must've flipped on its axis in the middle of the night.

It's the only scenario he can come up with to explain why you and San no longer act like you want to slit each other's throats when you walk into the building together, the tension pulsing between you and him having shifted without any notice or warning.

He doesn't expect the truce to last long; but you prove him wrong when three days pass in relative peace, and when you and your partner enter the studio on the sixteenth day, Deojun knows something must have happened.

However, the choreographer thinks it would be too unprofessional to pry, so he decides to pretend that his pupils have been friends all along.

"Good morning you two, did you sleep well?" Deojun greets you both with a wary grin. You nod wordlessly, and he says, "I hope so, because we're finishing up the last few moves of the choreo today. I grabbed some extra waters and snacks to carry us through, but I've informed your managers that we might stay late at the studio tonight. Are you guys opposed to that at all?"

He intentionally leaves out the fact that your manager, Mimi, had chewed him out about working you too hard for almost an hour over the phone when he asked.

You and San share an apprehensive look, but you shake your heads anyways, knowing you'd both rather stay late and finish the choreography as soon as possible.

"Great. Let's get started."

By the time you walk through the very last step of the dance, the clock on the wall reads 7:15 in the evening.

It was the longest day you'd had; though it seemed to you as if the hours passed at lightning speed- and you were pretty confident you knew why.

It was because you'd finally stopped holding yourself back when you danced, and neither you nor San could get enough of the new passion that was rapidly igniting at each little motion. It was like a dam had been broken; all you'd needed to open those gates was a push, just one hard shove in the right direction, for everything to fall into place.

You simply hadn't expected the shove to push yourself into San's waiting arms.

If your choreographer noticed the ease with which you and he now practiced the sensual movements, he didn't say anything about it; but you were both aware that sparks were blazing to life with every dip and sway- but neither of you wanted to be the first to put out the fire.

Rather, you found yourselves doing all you could to keep fanning the flames; it especially helped that you no longer needed to yell at each other in order to communicate. You'd been finding much more civil ways to talk since your twelfth day of dancing.

You and San reluctantly move away from each other once the dance is done and the music stops, spinning to face your instructor as he packs up. You refrain from coughing to cover up the way your insides feel like they're turning to mush.

"Awesome job guys!" Deojun claps and walks over to the stereo, a proud smile on his face. "That's it for the choreography, so if you two are ready to leave for the night then you're fine to do so. I'm finished for today, but if either of you stay longer, make sure you lock up after you're done."

You nod and gesture towards the door. "I'm starving, so I'm gonna leave, too." You look at San with a smile that is no longer lethal, and your gaze shines with something other than anger and irritation- a sweet combination that's almost too much for him to handle. "You coming?"

San licks his lips and shrugs, eyes trained on you. "Sure, but I can stay back and lock up while I grab my things, so I'll meet you out front."

You sling your bag over your shoulder and follow Deojun out of the studio, willing your brain to quit focusing on how flustered San's stare makes you.

You stop by the restroom to change out of your dance gear into a pair of light jeans and a loose shirt, trading out your dance shoes for comfy slip-ons, and you hope that the dazzled look on your face disappears soon when you head out.

You never imagined that the same guy who's been driving you insane for two weeks would ever cause you to blush; but here you were, hands pressed to your cheeks in an attempt to chase away the pink flush before you step outside, the image of your almost-kiss playing on repeat in the back of your mind like it usually did these days.

You weren't sure how it happened, but somewhere along the line, you realized that you never really hated San.

You reacted to his insults and his accusations, sure, but a part of you knew that the words were always empty; and even with as many times as you'd said it since meeting him, you honestly didn't hate San.

You just hated that you hadn't kissed him yet.

Jung Deojun has already left the building when you hear the entry door open and close, San approaching where you're standing alone outside of the studio and preoccupied with taking down your ponytail. The hand you were running through your hair halts when you feel his palm hover over your lower back, and his mere presence is enough to give you chills.

You gulp and drop your arm, spinning around.

The breath is practically knocked out of San when you turn to face him. He registers that the hand he's placed on your back now serves to pull you closer, but that's the last thing on his mind when he notices how your head cranes up to look him in the eyes, your almost hopeful expression being the cutest thing he's ever seen as your mouth forms a slight smile.

He's decided that he definitely prefers this look on you over the pissed-off ones he used to earn himself.

"Hey," He says simply, "you ready to go eat?"

You raise an eyebrow. "We're eating together? What about our managers, don't we both have places to be?"

San subconsciously guides your body closer to his, and you force yourself to ignore how droolworthy he looks in his skinny jeans and the black long-sleeved shirt he's tucked into them, keeping your eyes trained on anything that isn't the thick belt around his waist.

The outfit only does more to affirm how San is practically the e-boy of your dreams, posing a stark contrast to your light clothes and soft cardigan; your pulse quickens just from seeing the chain he's looped through his jeans. He looks dark and dangerous, and you love it.

The thought of grabbing that chain to close the gap between you is too tempting to entertain- so you banish it immediately.

"I contacted my company and they said we're free to do whatever we want until ten, as long as we stay out of trouble." San eventually responds to your question.

Your smile widens at the information, and you don't even feel yourself leaning into his arms, peering up at him happily. "In that case, I'm good to go wherever, because Mimi is always trying to get us out to eat more. As long as I get some food I don't really care what we eat." You say.

San so desperately wants to tighten his arms around you when you melt into his hold; but he isn't sure how well you'll respond if you aren't aware of what you're doing now, so he settles for keeping both of his hands placed on your hips, pushing away his desire to trace his fingers over the sliver of skin exposed by your shirt.

"Mimi is your personal manager, right?" San asks to keep up conversation.

"Yeah, but she's more like a friend than a manager," You tell him with a fond look in your eye, "she's always had my back, ever since day one. We're really close."

San has to supress a sigh at how irresistably cute you are; he doesn't know what to do with himself, aside from trying not to melt into putty at your touch. This is a far cry from the rigid stance you normally have around him, and he can't believe how much things have changed in the last four days.

If this had been happening a week ago, you would've laughed in San's face at the offer to go eat together, and he would go back to his dorm at KQ and tell his seven friends about how insufferable you'd been that day.

But now?

Now you're voluntarily spending time with him outside of the studio, and he's wondering why you guys didn't do this sooner.

"I'm feeling partial to pizza, how about you?" He suggests.

You nod quickly at the idea, "That sounds great, but I haven't had pizza in so long; we'll have to Google directions."

"I know a good place down the street, about two blocks away. It's close enough that we can walk from here." San offers. He points to your left, towards the downtown area, and you hoist your bag higher up on your shoulder.

"Then by all means, lead the way." You tease.

You don't exactly hold hands as the two of you walk towards the closest pizza place side-by-side; but you're not at all the sworn enemies you'd been at this time four days ago.

And by the end of the night, you go to bed with a full stomach and a voice in your head that says, maybe Choi San isn't as bad as you thought he was.

Day 19 - 7:50 PM

"Oh my god, you're kidding!" You hide your laughs behind your hand, elbows resting on the table.

Deojun shakes his head rapidly, affirming the truth to the wild story he's been sharing with you and San over your meal at the diner three doors down from the studio (which your other managers barely even agreed to let you go to after taking one look at the menu; thankfully, Mimi was able to convince them that you deserved a treat).

"No, I'm serious! They walked into the studio in full clown suits and told me they were ready to dance!"

You snort so hard you're afraid your milkshake might go up your nose. You couldn't believe all of the crazy stuff he'd seen as a mentor, and some of the things his students had done while dancing were amusing enough to bring tears to your eyes. But the day had been long enough- and exhausting enough- that maybe you were just feeling giddy out of tiredness.

San is currently clutching his sides and shaking with laughter across from you in the booth, and he doesn't seem to be too far from tears himself. "Then it's no wonder we seem so normal to you after you taught a group like that. That one couple makes mine and Y/N's silly fights look mature, don't you think?"

Deojun waggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh even harder. "I wouldn't exactly say normal. You two were about as difficult as any other students I've ever had when you first started. I'm actually kind of surprised we're all sitting pleasantly here right now, given the circumstances up until recently..." He trails off, the playful expression slipping from his face when the three of you realize what's being implied.

It was so strange to think that you'd gone from hating your partner's guts a couple of days ago to where you were now, eating dinner together with Deojun after a long day of rehearsal.

You and San had definitely become friends at this point, much to your relief; but the passion with which you danced together always left you wondering if there was something more.

After all, friends don't dance like that- even if your managers instructed you to act like lovers.

"I know you'll need to get back to your managers soon or else Mimi might bite my head off, so I'll go on up and get our bill." Deojun announces, pulling you from your train of thought as the choreographer nudges you urgently, gesturing for you to move so he can get out of the booth.

You let him out and slide back in when he leaves for the front counter, an uncalled-for nervous rush zipping down your body when you catch San's eye.

The dancer stares you down from across the table and twirls his tongue around the straw in his milkshake, immediately taking note of the way your eyes follow his movement. He chooses not to tease you about it but smirks nonetheless, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

You stay silent; and despite the newfound friendship that has made talking much less difficult for the both of you, you can't form a coherent sentence to save your life when he looks at you like you're a ten-thousand-piece puzzle that he can't wait to solve. You know you won't last long under his intense gaze before you start blushing.

The air in the booth is practically humming with tension- it seems to do that quite often when he's in the same room as you.

"You know, I'm kind of with Deojun on what he said. I never thought we'd end up here." He admits suddenly.

You look up, wondering if he's talking about eating here at the diner or if he's talking about something else entirely. You think it's the former, but your heart flutters at the subtle double meaning.

"Me neither." You respond softly, wrapping your hands around your cold glass. Your milkshake is now nothing but a puddle of leftover whipped cream at the bottom of the cup, but your lack of words makes you wish you hadn't finished it quite so fast.

He leans forward to put his weight on his elbows, coming closer across the table, and the inexplicable gleam in his eye is back; with the intimacy of it all, you feel as though he's about to let you in on a big secret.

You gulp nervously.

"After the first week with you, I expected to just go through the motions and then move on," San says in a voice so low it's nearly a murmur, "but you proved me wrong. As a matter of fact, you proved me wrong about a lot of things when it comes to you, and this is probably the first time I've ever been glad I wasn't right."

You're taken aback by his words, and it's a little too vague for you to understand.

You hope your voice doesn't sound as wobbly to him as it does to you when you ask him, "What things were you wrong about?"

He shrugs, taking another long sip of his shake, before he regards you with a stare so intense it seems to almost pin you to your seat.

"You're not the selfish prissy princess I thought you were." He eventually says.

Your eyes narrow at this, your suspicions about his confession rising even though he's not insulted you at all since the twelfth day in the studio.

San sees the way your guard goes up and laughs, shaking his hair out of his face. "Relax Y/N, there's no need to go on the defensive." He reassures you, "I'm just saying that I assumed too much about you when we met, and I should've said sorry sooner for not giving you a chance to show me that you were different."

You feel the tips of your ears burn at the unexpected apology.

You want to tear your gaze away from him so you can stare intently at your shoes; but some invisible force is keeping it glued on him, where there's a softness you've not yet seen glimmering in his eyes.

You know that you should say something in return, that you need to accept his apology and keep the conversation going- but your thoughts are spinning and racing and wild; and they're so full of him that you're afraid of what you'd say if you opened your mouth.

You never really let yourself cave into the way he makes you feel before. After all, you were way too annoyed by him in the beginning for you to register the other feelings he stirred up inside you.

But now that you've given up on trying to hate San, the ache to know him, to really know him- his touch, his kiss, his smile and his story- is almost overwhelming.

"Alrighty, everything's paid for." Your choreographer chooses that exact moment to arrive back at the booth, effectively slicing through the thick tension. "You're both free to go, and I'll see you tomorrow bright and early!"

You and San follow him out of the booth without any more discussion, but neither of you need to speak to know that another shift has occurred between you.

He can tell you sense the rising pressure when you leave that night, walking you to where your company's car is waiting.

San is quick to open the door for you like a gentleman; but when he raises the back of your hand to his lips in a move that would normally be just as gentlemanly, the depth of his expression when he makes eye contact is more than enough to put fire in your veins.

The encounter makes you wish you were bold enough to do more than just curl your fingers loosely around his hand.

You give yourself away with the breathy tone of your voice as you tell him good night, for once letting the tingling sensation on your hand have some meaning, and his lips pull into a soft grin at the sight of your pink cheeks.

As you close your door and the car pulls away from where San stands, your heart starts pounding in anticipation of seeing him tomorrow.

You wonder if you'll finally have the courage to show him the effect he's had on you.

Day 22 - 8:15 PM

The days continue to fly by in a whirlwind of teasing touches and sensual stares, until only three more remain before the night of the collaboration stage.

You read the time on your phone as you pull off your dance shoes, the screen showing that it was currently 8:15 in the evening.

Earlier today, you and San had shot the official performance video for the song, a three-minute-long clip that you hope had captured all of your hard work and effort. It had been done in a newer section of the studio building, on a floor you'd not been to before; but you were sufficiently elated at the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the walls of the dance room, and the lighting they provided was perfect for the video.

But despite the pretty setup, you felt like the dressing rooms in the back were somewhat... lacking. It was too small, poorly separated, and alarmingly unsupervised- the perfect recipe for disaster.

You see San's shadow moving around behind the flimsy screen that divides the empty room, and you rush to change out of the costume into normal clothes. You shimmy your jeans up quickly and tug your favorite sweater on over your head, hurrying because you know that if you can see him, then he can probably see you, too.

You try not to yank on your hair as you pull it out of its elaborate bun. Running a hand through it, you suppress a snort when you're met with a crunchy, knotty mess; between the uppity stylist and the mega-hold hairspray, your hair is practically standing up on its own, the strands feeling more like hay than hair.

You grab your brush and get to work, carefully detangling the knots and working from the bottom upwards. Mimi wouldn't be too pleased if you gave yourself split ends.

"Is it safe for me to come in?" San's voice startles you, and you jump with the hairbrush still in your hand, catching violently on a clump of stubborn hairspray. You yelp at the pain in your scalp and shoot him a burning look, but your anger is more directed towards your brush than at your partner.

San raises his eyebrows and clicks his tongue, his footsteps sure as he approaches you. "Here, let me help you." He offers. You don't think twice before handing him the hairbrush and sitting on the cosmetics table, your cheeks flaming as you whisper a thank you.

You don't expect him to be very gentle, but you're surprised at the feather-light touch when he begins to work out the remaining knots, and it sends pleasant sensations to your scalp that make your eyelids slide shut.

He moves your hair to the side and combs through the crown of your head. You almost shudder when you realize you can feel every time he exhales, warm breath fanning over the back of your neck. You don't even notice the way you crane your head slightly back, your spine pressed against his chest, the proximity keeping your cheeks stained pink.

But oh, does San notice.

He also notices another reaction that you've failed to see- your reflection in the mirror across the room.

His grip tightens on the handle of the brush at your blissful expression, eyes closed and lips subconsciously pouted. San nearly wishes you'd stayed in your bland dance clothes, because with the way your jeans hug your hips and the tantalizing dip of your sweater's neckline, he's struggling to keep his cool.

As a matter of fact, nothing in the room was cool anymore- his hands, your face, and the atmosphere surrounding you both had all become maddeningly hot.

Your eyes flutter open when San stops moving.

"San, I can take care of the rest, you don't have to do this for me-" You begin to say, but your words abandon you when San puts the brush down and trails a finger in lazy circles on your neck. You do shudder this time, unable to conceal the way your body responds to him; and it brings a smirk to San's lips as he watches your defenses start to chip away.

He's determined to finish what you'd both started- and he doesn't plan on leaving this room until he's felt your mouth on his and his hands on your skin.

"But I want to, princess." He says smoothly, the hidden meaning of the word want driving you nuts, while the pet name makes your heart leap like it always does.

You brace your palms on the surface of the table, hoping for some sort of stability because God knows your mind is far from it.

You summon up all the courage you have and finally, finally ask the question that's been tossed around in your head for the last two or three weeks.

"Is that... is that all you want?"

You're surprised at the strength of your own voice- though now that you've said it, you want to curl into a ball and hide away forever.

San knows exactly what you mean. He knows you're not talking about hair or dancing, and he knows the answer he would give you if he were man enough not to twirl around the truth.

He knows he wants to be yours; what he doesn't know, however, is how much you'd be willing to risk to be his.

But he'll be damned if he lets anything stop him from finding out.

"I think you know by now what I want." He tests the waters hesitantly, afraid you may take it the wrong way. Because although he can't deny his attraction to you physically, San is drawn to you more by your fire and your passion than he is by your body.

You can sense it, the uncharacteristic doubt and uncertainty in his words, and it puts a lump in your throat when you realize how vulnerable you both are at this point.

You swallow hard. "I do." It's simple, short, and barely above a whisper, but it's out there now; you've placed the ball back in his court, so it's up to him to make the shot.

You never were much good at basketball, anyways.

San rounds the table to stand in front of you, eyes searing with that familiar intensity that always leaves your knees weak, and his arms reach out on either side of where you sit to balance his weight on the table. He hovers over you- but he's just far away enough to keep himself from touching you.

His voice is gruff when he speaks next. "You've known for a while now that we aren't just partners." It's self explanatory, and you don't interrupt when he tilts his head to give you a sweltering gaze. "And you're not too good at hiding how you feel, so I know it's probably a safe bet to say you feel exactly the same as I do."

His black hair falls into his face, and your hand itches to brush it away; so you let it. You're slow to comb through it and you raise yourself up a little to get closer to him as you rake through the dark strands, letting them twist and twirl around your fingers. "And what is it that you think I'm feeling right now?" You ask, meeting his stare straight on.

San flashes his killer smirk. "Attraction." He says confidently. He wedges his way into your personal space, his hands now resting on either of your thighs with his body between your legs. "Desire, maybe." He continues with a squeeze.

You know where this is heading- and you don't plan on stopping it anytime soon. Hell, you want it to go full steam ahead, because you've been waiting for this for four weeks too long.

San laces his fingers through yours and leans in to place a teasing kiss on your cheek, close to your ear. "Y/N, tell me something." He murmurs lowly, "Do you want this, too? Because if you still hate me as much as you did four weeks ago, I'll stop right now and walk out of the room."

You spring to life at his offer, throwing one arm around his neck and successfully trapping him into his position. Your faces are only a few inches apart now, the air between you radiating with electricity; you wrap your other arm around his shoulders and eliminate almost all of the space.

You have no idea where this bravery is coming from, but hey, you're not complaining.

"Don't you dare walk out on this." You say darkly, the words stealing away the last of San's sanity. "We're in too deep now, so if you're gonna kiss me, you better kiss me like you mean it." You threaten.

It's all the encouragement he needs to bring your lips to his- and the result is more incredible than anything either of you had imagined.

You don't melt together the way that you've heard others describe themselves doing. No, you and San are too passionate, too full of sparks- this kiss isn't melting.

It's blazing.

There's no uncertainty or gentle hesitancy in it; not even a little bit. From the moment his mouth is on yours, you kiss with an unmatched fervor and passion, feeling more like an explosion than like fireworks.

You're fighting fire with fire, and nothing has ever felt so good before.

You push and pull and meet right back in the middle in an exchange of powerful sparks, the kiss seeming to last for hours as you both fight to outdo the other in true 'fake enemies' fashion. San's fingers are digging into your hips and your hands are tugging on his shirt for some semblance of balance; everything is on fire, and yet everything is positively and passionately perfect.

You sigh against his lips in sheer bliss, your legs hooking themselves around his torso and bringing him impossibly closer. His fingertips skim across the hem of your sweater before slipping under it, and you nearly moan when he runs them up and down the curve of your back.

You've never felt this connected to a person before; almost as if from the moment you met, an invisible thread was strung between you and San, winding tighter and tighter over time until you were much too entangled to stop this.

You didn't ever want to stop this, anyways.

This kiss, this moment, and the last few whirlwind weeks with this man who's made of sweetness and pure sin- it all seems to be stitched together to create an emotion so strong that it rolls off of both of you in waves; an earth shattering romance that must be written in the stars themselves.

San mentally sends a thousand thanks to those lucky stars as he ends the kiss, regretfully pulling back to see what a mess he's made out of you.

He isn't disappointed either; your puffy pink lips and pretty glazed eyes make his already-tight pants feel three sizes too small, and he has to refrain from diving right back in for another soul-searing kiss.

He does his best to contain himself and leans his forehead against yours in a move he's cringed at every time it happens in the movies, though he finds it to be a lot less cliché with you.

In the aftermath of your passionate makeout, your eyes are gazing headlong into his own, and San swears he's never seen a more beautiful sight than this. He feels close, so close; his hands are pressed securely on the small of your back, though you sure as hell aren't thinking about that.

You're too busy thinking about how you finally have a name for that special look he's been giving you.

Adoration.

Sure, it's obviously mixed with a dash of unbridled lust and a bucketload of his signature sizzling attraction, but the adoring expression on his face says it all. Whether or not anyone knew things would happen this way, San has always adored you; you and your fiery temper, sweet smile, and ridiculous, incredible passion.

You feel yourself going shy again as he continues to stare at you, your blush already as deep as it can get, and you have half a mind to bury your face in his chest to escape the knowledge that your moment is beginning to fade away.

You don't want anything about the moment to fade, ever.

"Y/N," San's voice is soothing as he softly traces shapes into the skin beneath your sweater, "I hope you haven't changed your mind about wanting me to walk out."

You smile sheepishly, shaking your head. "No, nothing's changed." You manage to murmur around the tightness in your chest. It's not a bad tightness though; it's just the coil of raw emotion that's settling into your heart at the pure vulnerability of the last ten minutes.

"So does that mean we're still going to just keep doing what we've been doing this whole time?" He asks, tilting his head, "Or can I finally call you mine?"

Your lungs stutter briefly at his question, the word "mine" sounding so perfect to you when it falls from his mouth.

You don't answer immediately despite your inner self screaming at you to say yes. You have plenty of realistic things to consider, and anyone with a brain would say no in your position; but all of it is overshadowed by what you feel for San.

Both of your contracts, your fames and fanbases, and even your careers as idols are on the line, but you know with every beat of your heart that you'd risk all of that for this boy.

You'd risk anything to be his, you're sure of it.

"Yes." You agree quietly. "But only if it means that you're mine, too."

The smirk is back, and it turns the butterflies in your stomach into fucking pterodactyls at how effortlessly he can do that. It should be illegal for someone to switch the way San does, going from being a swoonworthy sweetheart to looking like a sexual fantasy on legs in the blink of an eye.

"I thought that was a given, babe." His tone has returned to its usual cockiness, but instead of getting on your nerves, now it just sounds plain hot. He gives you a mischievous wink as he says, "After all, it takes two to tango."

You don't bother hiding your laugh while you slide off of the cosmetics table; and you're still laughing at him when you walk out of the unsupervised dressing rooms hand in hand, feeling like it was meant to be this way all along.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if a mere twenty-three days is too soon to call it love.

You don't think so.

Day of Collaboration Stage - 4:30 PM

You hadn't seen San all day.

Today was the end of your promotions, and in three short hours, you'd be dancing together on a stage in front of the whole world, doing the moves you'd spent more time rehearsing than you'd spent sleeping throughout the last month.

You were on edge, to say the very least.

Currently, you were sitting in your designated room at the site of the event, staying as still as possible while being attacked with makeup brushes from all angles.

You would normally have a conversation with the group of people pampering you; but the desire to see San was making it hard to focus on talking about the weather or finding out the latest gossip.

You and San had shared three more kisses since the other night. Two of them were in the studio during rehearsal when Deojun left the room, and the third had been in the doorway of the building last night, when you and he had said goodbye after your final practice.

Your body was aching to see him. It wasn't that you just wanted to kiss him again (though you won't object to a kiss either); but you longed for some reassurance, for the steadiness you felt from a hug or even just the simple look he gave you that made all of the doubts and worries disappear in its wake.

"Mimi," You call to your most trusted manager, "has anyone heard from KQ since lunch?"

Your team giggles at your request, and Mimi gives you a fond smile as she shakes her head. "No dear, I'm sorry. We'll be sure to tell you as soon as they contact us though."

You nod quickly and try to relax a little bit, willing your hands to loosen their grip on the arms of your chair. If your stylists can sense how jittery you are, they don't let on; they continue to chatter mindlessly as they get you ready for tonight's much-anticipated performance.

On the other end of the building, San is only one brain cell away from calling your company and asking them if he can finish getting ready with you- because the seven lively boys crowded around in his room are becoming very, very distracting.

"Mingi, for the last time, please don't mess with my costume." The dancer chides his tall friend, who ducks his head and mumbles an apology.

The redheaded leader, Hongjoong, is trying to help San keep peace in the chaos that began when Yunho decided to twerk in the hallway- but reigning in the band of childish idols proves to be a challenge when his best friend Wooyoung steals his phone and tries to guess his password so he can text you, the mystery girl.

"Sannie!" Wooyoung pouts, "Won't you at least give me a little hint? I promise I won't text her anything too embarrassing."

Before he can answer, the oldest boy, Seonghwa, snatches the phone from Wooyoung and hands it back to its owner. "Woo, don't be a burden. Let San finish getting ready." He scolds. Wooyoung sighs dramatically and skips over to the lone couch in the dressing room to bother its occupants, Yeosang and Jongho; San's arguably more level-headed friends.

San's manager pays no mind to the loud group wreaking havoc and continues with prep, swiping on the finishing touches to the stage makeup and doing a final fluff of his hair.

The manager steps back to survey her work and smiles, already gathering up her things and packing away the tools. "You're all set San, try to keep your hands away from your face and hair. Good luck tonight." She says, promptly retreating from the noisy group and closing the door behind her.

The moment the manager leaves, Kim Hongjoong is standing behind San's chair and crossing his arms, staring him down in the mirror. The question leaves his mouth before anyone can stop him.

"San," His tone is demanding, "no more vague answers. I wanna know straight up if you're into this girl or not, and don't you dare try to beat around the bush."

San gulps heavily, not expecting to get drilled about you so soon today. He should've known better though- after all, he's always been horrible at keeping secrets from his team.

He takes a deep breath before finally confessing to his leader, "Yes, I'm into her. More than I've ever been into anyone." He admits, still trying not to make it obvious how deep his feeling for you run.

But he can't help the foolish grin that crosses his face as he continues to say, "She dances with more passion than any girl I've ever worked with, and you should see the way she looks at me when she doesn't think I'll notice. You'd never pick on me again if you danced with her like I do."

He shuts his mouth before any more mushy words can make it past his lips; but the damage is already done. Choi San has completely blown his cover, letting everyone know exactly how often you've been on his mind- or rather, his heart.

Wooyoung and Mingi both stop what they're doing at the outburst and stare at San, jaws dropping. Park Seonghwa seems frozen in his seat, Yunho and Jongho's heads both snap up at the same time, and even cool, unbothered Yeosang turns off his phone and raises one eyebrow.

"Somebody's majorly fuckin' whipped." Yunho mutters under his breath. Seonghwa only halfheartedly nudges him for the comment, and San feels his ears burn from the intense scrutiny of his seven best friends, all eyes turned to him.

It's too late to backtrack now.

"Shut up, Yunho." San whines, shoulders slumping with defeat. Wooyoung's triumphant smirk goes unnoticed in the mirror as San exposes his humongous crush on you, not even trying to deny it anymore, and Mingi sighs loudly knowing he'll have to cough up $15 to Wooyoung once the night is over.

"So it's true then?" Seonghwa voices what everyone must be thinking, "You and the mystery girl? Are you... are you dating her?" His voice lowers on the word dating, and Hongjoong holds his breath, suddenly not quite as playful as he was before.

He knows Choi San is a wonderful person, and that the last thing he'd ever do would be something that intentionally hurts the group. But he also knows that the boy tends to let his heart run away with his passion; and if he's in a secret relationship behind their backs, then there's more at stake than just the dating ban contract.

Thankfully, San's eyes widen and he shakes his head side-to-side. "No, I'm not! It's not like that! I swear, we really aren't together. I'd never hide something like that from you guys." He states honestly.

It's not a lie, either. Despite the kisses and touches that he's shared with you lately, and the heated confrontation after the dress rehearsals, he truly isn't in any official relationship at the moment.

But that doesn't mean he has no desire to be in one with you.

He knows what's at risk, of course he does; but even so, he knows that once the dust settles and the cameras are no longer pointed at him, he wants to be by your side long after the collaboration is finished.

He wants to be yours just as badly as you want to be his. And tonight, he's determined to prove it.

Yeosang sees the confidence flickering in San's expression and nods his head, hiding a small smile of pride. "Go get her, San. We'll all be rooting for you."

And with those words of encouragement, San is dashing out of the room like a man on a mission- a mission to see you.

It takes an hour of discreet texting while you're being pampered to death for San to come up with a valid excuse to see you.

You eventually agree that he'll interrupt your prep to do one more walkthrough of your ending scene; but you both know that it's just an excuse to have a little more time together before the stage, and that knowledge makes you giggle like a schoolgirl when San messages you.

Fireboy: wish me luck getting past ur managers !!

Your grip relaxes on your chair when you finally hear a knock at your door. Mimi shoots right up to answer it, and her polite smile grows mischievous when she sees who's on the other side.

"Hello there, Mr. Choi," Mimi greets, "how can I help you?"

San blinks and clears his throat. "I, uh, I'm here to go over a few steps with Y/N." He doesn't sound overly convincing, and you hide a chuckle with the palm of your hand. "Just to make sure we've got everything right before the performance, you know?"

Your lead manager shares a look with the other girls on your prep team, opens the door wider, and beckons for everyone else to leave.

"We'll give you some space to rehearse. Come find me if you need anything, Mr. Choi." Mimi tells him with that same smirk painted on her face as she practically tugs San the rest of the way into the room. They all go at once, leaving you sitting alone in your snazzy chair when they close the door behind them.

You glance at him with a shy smile, peering beneath your newly mascara-coated lashes at the handsome sight in front of you.

San is styled in a costume very similar to the one he wore for the performance video- black pants, a red harness belt, and a billowy long-sleeved white shirt with three buttons undone at the top. It takes everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping; though you don't really need to worry about it since San is having no problem openly staring at your legs.

But you can't blame him for looking, because you think your legs are a hundred percent worth staring at in the pretty red swing dress that you'll be wearing tonight.

"My eyes are up here, buddy." You snap your fingers playfully, and he meets your gaze with a boyish grin.

"Sorry, Y/N." He's not sorry in the slightest.

You push yourself up from your chair and cross the floor to where he stands, his back resting against your dressing room door. "What do you really need?" You ask him, stopping when he's an arm's length away.

He doesn't hesitate to pull you the rest of the way into his embrace and loops his arms around your middle, all but sweeping you off of your feet.

"This." He says, tone leaving no room for debate.

He kisses you swiftly, not even giving you a moment to breathe before his lips are on yours and he's softly tracing patterns on the fabric of your shirt. It's a sweet kiss; slow and languid, as if you have all the time in the world, but still heavy with meaning and want.

"San," You mumble, "I don't really think-"

"I'm not gonna ruin your hair, Miss Priss." He instantly answers your halfhearted concern and is back to kissing you, tongue sliding hastily along your bottom lip. It's enough to give you just a taste of what you want; but you remember that your entire prep team is probably listening outside of your room, and you have more to worry about than a messed up hairdo.

You move away to save your makeup- an action that ends up taking every ounce of your willpower to do- and press a lingering peck to his cheek. "You're cute, San. Was that all you came here to do though?"

He stops an embarrassing blush from rising onto his cheeks and clears his throat again, face turning serious.

"I actually did come to talk to you about something," He admits, taking your hands in his. "I wanted to check in with you to see how you're feeling about tonight's stage. Are there any fears of crowds or cameras that I should know about?"

Your smile droops slightly and his grip tightens, his hands warm on yours and giving you the courage to voice your concerns.

"I, um..." You manage to get out, "I've never performed a dance like this before and... well, I'm really nervous and worried. I don't know if I'll be able to pull it off well enough."

You purse your lips as you add, "And as ironic as it is to say this, even though I'm a dancer, I've never been too fond of big audiences."

"Y/N," San whispers softly, "Don't think about the crowds tonight. If we're gonna do this, then I'll need to you keep your eyes on mine, baby. Don't look away from me while we're dancing, okay?"

Your hands cling onto his the way your heart clings onto his words, hoping that they might chase away your nerves.

"I'll try." You tell him plainly. It's the truth- you don't know if you'll be able to ignore the countless eyes watching you or the cameras that will capture every move; but you're going to try. If not for yourself, then at least for him.

His face breaks into a gorgeous smile, making your heart flutter with something other than nervous panic. "Good." He says with finality, giving you one more intoxicating kiss while he makes sure he hasn't messed up your hair. "We're gonna do great, Y/N. I can feel it."

You hear your team gossiping and giggling out in the hallway, making you shake your head. He winks playfully at you and blows you a kiss before backing away.

"See you out there, Miss Priss." He teases when he opens the door. The nickname makes the edges of your lips turn upwards, and you smile against your will.

You roll your eyes but catch the kiss nonetheless. "Famous last words, Fireboy." You say as you shoo him off, and Mimi swoops back into the room, steering you back to your chair to sit you down. You're not able to summon enough words to describe your encounter when your prep crew asks; though you think the dreamy look on your face says it all.

You still aren't totally sure if you can pull the performance off tonight.

But you know that if your handsome partner is half as talented on stage as he is in rehearsals, then there's no reason for you to worry.

"Y/N, are you ready to go?" Mimi asks, "We need to meet up with KQ in the next twenty seconds if you want to be backstage on time."

You nod against your better judgment, allowing her to take your arm and gently guide you out of your dressing room and down the corridor. Your heartbeat is drumming a quick rhythm in your ears, your mind buzzing with last-minute what if's and oh no's.

Your heeled shoes alert the group of stagehands that's already begun to gather behind the sound booth to your presence, all heads turned towards you; and almost as if he could hear your internal doubts, Choi San sends you a thumbs up and winks, causing you to laugh.

"Are you ready to knock about three hundred socks off?" He asks as soon as you're in range, walking up to you. He unashamedly loops an arm around you, not seeming to care if the pose is a little too close for coworkers.

"It depends; are you ready to become the country's ultimate bias for the next month?" You tease back. He laughs playfully pokes your side before letting you go.

"Absolutely." He says without hesitating. You roll your eyes, mouth opening to crack another joke, but the stagehands start calling out directions before you can think of a good one.

It's almost showtime.

The realization is jolting, and scares the ever-living shit out of you more than any spider could.

Your heart immediately plummets to your stomach and your nerves return with full force. You all of a sudden don't feel quite as confident in your heels as you did, your ankles threatening to wobble and give away your weakness.

But as always, San swoops in to rescue your thoughts before you get too lost in them; strong fingers lace together with your trembling ones when he raises an eyebrow as if to say, get it together, y/n.

"Oh no you don't, princess. You don't get to chicken out on me now. We can't have you collapsing on stage, can we?" He taunts. You give him a familiar glare in return.

The simple question is enough to get your blood rushing as you recall all the times he's said things like that to you and meant it, all of the heated- yet pointless- fights you'd had during your first few weeks together. You remember how annoying he used to be with you; though looking back on it now, you suppose he was just doing it on purpose.

There was certainly blame to share for the childish spats you had during those twelve maddening days where you couldn't decide if you were enemies or lovers. But you think that, if given the chance, you wouldn't actually want to go back and redo it- you don't want it any other way.

You always secretly kind of liked the tension you had together.

A smile is pulling at your lips when the stage lights dim and the velvet curtain begins to rustle, San's hand still fully engulfing yours. He notices your change in demeanor and squeezes lightly, your attention turning to him and his stupidly handsome face.

"What's that look for?" He presses.

You shrug and squeeze his hand back, "Just thinking about how much I used to hate you, that's all."

You expect San's mouth to fall open in shock, for him to whine and say something like "you're not very nice!", but instead you get a dark chuckle and a meaningful stare.

"Come on, baby. You never really hated me, did you?"

You pretend to think about it, ignoring the burning blush on your cheeks. "I guess not," You sigh wistfully, "but I definitely couldn't stand you when we were starting out. You used to get on my nerves like no tomorrow, Fireboy."

The sounds from the crowd in the arena are floating backstage, but you don't even register the noise as you relive your memories with San.

He nods his head, "It's been an interesting few weeks with you too, Y/N. I don't know how I missed what was really there for so long; I must've been such an ass to you. At least now we're making up for lost time..." He trails off with a suggestive smile, detaching his hand from yours when a manager pops up out of the blue.

You nearly curse- because now you really want to make up for lost time and kiss him until you're breathless- but the manager grabs both you and your partner by the arm and drags you to stand over two red x's in the middle of the stage, and you sense the panic rising up in spite of your handsome distraction.

"Two minutes until your cue, you two. Are you both fully prepared?" The manager interrupts to check on you, and your mind boggles as soon as you hear how much time is left.

Two minutes?

How could there only be two minutes left? And weren't you kissing San in your dressing room just a moment ago? It feels like the seconds are flying by, the hours and minutes blending together in your nervous haze.

San's eyes dart to you and his tongue comes out to sweep over his lower lip; something you'd find desperately attractive if not for your frantic inner dialogue. "Yes, thank you." He bows slightly and the manager scurries off, allowing San one more moment to have you all to himself.

He can detect every ounce of anxiety in your eyes when they meet his, and he cups your face in his palms, the sweet gesture not allowing you to duck away from him.

"Y/N, what did we talk about earlier?" He prompts you with a tone that's uncharacteristically soft. Your lips form an adorable pout when you try to find an answer, testing San's ability to resist you.

"Umm... we talked about not getting nervous?" You attempt. He shakes his head, placing a single chaste kiss on your lips while no one can see you.

"No, not quite. I told you that when you get nervous, you'll need to focus on me. Right?" He tilts your chin up with one finger, "Didn't I say to keep your eyes on me when we dance?"

You're taken aback by the authoritative edge to his voice, but whatever the cause for it is... it works.

You blink and respond, "Yes. I will, San, I'll try."

He breaks into a grin that sends butterflies to your tummy for an entirely different reason. "That's all there is to it, then. Any time you aren't confident, just look straight at me and I'll take the lead."

You aren't sure why the phrase is so comforting, but you're nodding your head anyways, reassured just enough to keep your anxious doubts at bay.

"Okay." You whisper.

And before you have time to fully process what's happening, the directors and operators are flying to their booths around the two of you and the curtains rustle one last time, the din of the workers backstage going completely quiet when the lights go out and San takes you into his arms.

"Cue!" You hear Mimi say from the wings, along with what sounds like "Knock 'em dead, Y/N!"

You feel like your nerves are going to get the best of you when the curtain starts to lift, positive that they'll overtake your body and freeze your limbs solid.

But they never do, and you know exactly why.

It's because when the spotlight lands on you and San, you're already in position, and his eyes are staring confidently back into your own.

Almost like he's daring you to break away.

"Game on, Fireboy." You say under your breath.

The beginning notes float through the speakers, and the spotlight flares to life, trained on you and your partner as the music fills your bodies.

One, two, three... concentrate. You hear Jung Deojun's voice in your head when you spring upwards, officially beginning your dance. Feel the heartbeat of the music like it's your own.

Your hands grasp at San's shirt, your legs carrying out each move with perfect poise, and you're absolutely, 100% sure that every member of this audience can blatantly see the desire that burns in his eyes as he spins you into your mark.

A spark of pure confidence makes its way into your system, giving your arms the strength to wrap around your partner and let go of his collar, and the complete trust you have in him is the only thing that makes the next move remotely possible.

Your mind flashes back briefly to day thirteen, when you'd first successfully done the lift. You'd jumped into San's waiting arms with more trust than anyone would've guessed you had for him, surprising even yourself.

You remember how hot his hands had been on your sides when he picked you up gracefully, how flustered his touch had made you back then- but you also remember how proud you'd been of finally letting go and giving him the reins.

You feel just as proud now as you were then when he lifts you; you're weightless, flying like a fiery phoenix in the air with San twirling you around, and you can almost hear the collective gasp when he lays you down, sinking effortlessly into the one move that's always turned your mind into putty.

It's the move that took you two entire days of rehearsal to conquer, and holy fuck was it worth it.

San's got a shit-eating smirk on his face as he controls his hips while balancing above you, doing that roll with his lower body while keeping his legs in the air, and you get so lost in his burning stare that you almost forget to do the floor work you've practiced so often.

"You're doing so well for me, Y/N." He whispers for just you to hear, the words hot against the skin of your neck, and your eyes fall shut momentarily at the sensation.

Then he rolls up in one fluid motion while tugging you with him, and you surge straight into the next step: something Deojun had described as taking a classic foxtrot and adding a pinch of 'spice' to it. It'd be scandalous if it wasn't choreographed.

You sway to the pulsing rhythm as you glide across the stage hand-in-hand, and the dazzling lights are no match for the fire that's crackling to life between you and him. You never expected the flames to make it to the stage- but you're glad it did, because right now, it's helping you to dance with more passion than you were even sure you possessed.

His arms circle your torso sensually and you rock together like starstruck lovers, one hand trailing a path down the side of your face; and the longer you dance, the less aware you are of the eyes watching your performance.

"How's it going, princess?" He murmurs hotly, doing a flawless tango with your body pressed firmly against his.

You rake one nail across the exposed skin from his shirt, making a mark just below his collarbone, and a feeling of satisfaction bubbles in your chest when he tightens his arms around you.

"Pretty damn good, if I do say so myself." You don't know where this courage is coming from, but you shoot him a teasing smile anyways, "What about you, Fireboy?"

He runs the palm of his hand all the way from the base of your spine to the back of your neck and bends you beneath his touch, your red lips parting when he moves into a perfect dip.

Your arm is slung around his shoulder, and it takes a lot of self-restraint for you not to kiss him senseless when he raises an eyebrow and responds, "It couldn't get any fucking better than this, baby."

San has always known exactly what words to say to set you ablaze.

There's a simmering fire in his touch as he pulls you out of the dip and the tempo quickens, leading you into what you can't believe is already the last chorus of the song.

Have you really been dancing for almost six minutes now?

"Are you ready for the finale?" You ask lowly, unable to hear if he says anything once you're sent spiraling across the floor.

But when you meet back up like lovers who can't bear to be apart, he leans in to tell you cockily, "I was born ready, Y/N." You suppress an eye roll at the statement, your heart fluttering nonetheless as he puts his hands on your hips and swings in step with you.

San's hands grip you tightly as he pulls you against him, your mouths hovering tantalizingly close together when he guides your arm up to skim the curve of his neck. The sensual music drifts through the arena in time with your movements, each step flowing smoothly and each touch driving you wild as you perform your finale with your hearts on your sleeves.

You've never felt this before Choi San; you've never experienced such an intense desire for someone the way you're desperate for every brush of his skin against yours.

You slide slowly out of his arms and make your way down, down his body and to the floor, taking your sweet time walking your fingers down his chest as you sink to your knees on stage; the sight of you in such a compromising stance earns you an earful of traumatized murmurs from the crowd, but you pay them no mind.

Nothing else matters when San's knees hit the stage floor three beats later, hands tangling in your hair and pulling you close enough to give the cameraman a run for his money.

All that matters in that instant is San- his touch, his gaze, and the dance that feels like it was made just for you and him.

"That... was amazing." You comment breathlessly, careful not to give any wandering eyes a chance to read your lips. He nods and says nothing, letting his fiery eyes do all the talking for the both of you.

The moment feels incredibly intimate as the music fades out, and you're breathing the same air as your partner, only separated by an inch at the most; you want nothing more than to grab him by his too-damn-sexy shirt and make out until your lips are swollen.

But you can't do that, because you're still somehow on stage with him, crouching in a sensual pose in front of hundreds of people.

The last notes float away and you're immediately met with deafening cheers, roses and carnations already beginning to litter the platform. You're shocked by how much your performance seemed to affect the audience; but it makes you smile wide, your cheeks aching when a group of girls start chanting your name, and you feel like you're on cloud nine.

The MC's voice booms over the speakers as the crowd whistles and yells, "What an incredible performance from Choi San of Ateez and Y/N of Indigo! Let's have another round of applause for the stars of tonight's show, everyone!"

The clapping continues, following you and San off of the stage and back behind the wings as you're rushed into a hug from Mimi. She shakes your shoulders wildly, eyes shining with what looks like happy tears; she congratulates you over and over, all but crushing your lungs with her excited hug.

"You did it Y/N!" She squeals, "We're all so proud of you, honey!"

When you turn to face San, a group of boys approaching the wings from behind him catches your eye, looking more like a blur than a band. One blonde boy in particular zips ahead of the others and catapults himself into San, arms latching onto him like a leech.

"Woo, what the hell?" Your unsuspecting partner exclaims, hugging him back nonetheless.

"You fuckin' killed it, man!" The blonde screams. The rest of the group engulfs San into a huddle and say the same thing, not paying any attention to the manager trying to remind them that idols shouldn't curse.

You recognize the seven rowdy men to be San's group, Ateez; you watch on with a fond smile as they praise his performance, slapping him on the back and ruffling his hair.

He fights his way out of their embrace and rolls his eyes, brushing himself off as if he didn't enjoy their congratulations.

The blonde boy notices you standing to the side and a sly grin crosses his face, head tilting to the side.

"And who might this beautiful lady be, Sannie?" He questions mischievously. You feel yourself blush beneath his curious stare, fiddling with the material of your dress, but San walks over to you in a few short strides and wastes no time in using two fingers to lift your chin upwards.

"This is Y/N," He says with a voice that reminds you of spiced cider, "the one I've been telling you guys about."

Your eyes widen. "You never said you talked about me..." You trail off at the flicker of want in his expression, mind blanking out.

He smirks back at you like he knows something you don't. "You never asked, princess."

You don't feel the seven pairs of clueless eyes on you when San brings your face closer to his; you don't even bother to remember that Mimi is still right behind you, nor do you care that the collaboration team is probably just around the corner.

All you can feel is San- his presence overpowering your senses and blocking out anything that isn't him.

"Choi San," You murmur dangerously, "if you don't kiss me right now, I think I might go insane."

He ignores the chorus of annoying ooh's from his friends and rests his other hand on the small of your back, tethering you to him. Your eyelids start to lower in expectation, hands finding their way into his hair; and you can feel his smirk long before your lips even touch.

"That won't be necessary, darling." He mutters as you finally, finally collide, every nerve ending on fire as he kisses you like a man starved. Wooyoung's wolf whistle falls on deaf ears as you kiss with more meaning than any romance movie couple you've seen on screen; your lips clash and melt and push and pull with a spark that only true dancers possess, the world around you disappearing instantly.

Even Mimi, your dedicated manager, has nothing to say to you when you eventually break apart, San's heated gaze keeping you trapped in his arms, and he can tell you've got tunnel vision too when your eyes never leave his.

Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest- but the pace is steady and sure, as if you've been kissing this man in front of your superiors all of your life. You're utterly entranced by the look of love and adoration that dances- pun intended- in his dark eyes; and in the split second it takes to realize the weight behind this kiss, you decide that you want this to last forever.

You're ready to be his.

"Y/N," San says softly, "I know we've got a lot to talk about if we want to make this work... but I can't walk away from you tonight without asking you one thing."

You raise an eyebrow, "What would that be?"

He traces your jawline with the tip of his finger, leaving sparks in its wake.

"Miss Priss," He says teasingly, the nickname stirring up your insides, "will you officially be mine?"

You reach up to press a swift, firm kiss to his lips, sealing your decision better than words ever could. You pull away with a grin that matches his own, and he thinks he's died and gone to heaven when you answer him, "I thought you'd never ask."

The seven boys watching the ordeal clap obnoxiously, cheering just as loud as the audience had been a few minutes ago, and San pulls you in to rest his forehead on your own.

"After all, you said it best yourself, Fireboy," You meet his stare confidently, "it takes two to tango."

And after twenty-five days of wanting and waiting, playing this game of cat and mouse- you finally get what you've truly desired since the moment you met Choi San.

You get to call him yours.

the end.

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tazanna-blythe · 3 years ago

Text

Done

Chapter 5

~Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie~

"Wellcome ladies so how's school?" Sabine said with a motherly smile smile then placing a freshly baked Croissants on the table.

"Where fine, just another day at the clown house, I swear that our classmates have no brain cells not one of them "Chloe said while spreading butter on her croissant then without any hesitation she ate it.

"I beg to differ dear but i think they still have one connecting brain cell,seeing as they are one and no one can break their bond"Mari and she also ate the croissant happily

"So Dumb,Dumber,Dumbest then? or all equally dumb?" Chloe mumble (she took another bite on her food)

"No it's like they all have an on and off button for their reasoning and common sense and Liela has the button" Mari

"And She uses her sausage her as an antenna the give them signals hahahahahahahhaha"Chloe

"Ladies that's not nice besides everyone has their own preference or style that they think is fashionable ... all though i wanna know who told her having a sausage as an inspiration for a hairstyle especially when she moves her head she looks like a paddle ball a had when i was a kid" Sabine

both Chloe and Marinette bust into laughter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Collège Françoise Dupont Clinic

*Bell *

Adrien is still sleeping soundly and the kind nurse doesn't want to wake him up and clearly from how pale his face is and how dark his eye bags are and how bone to skin he is, she made a decision to call his guardians to pick him up and have him take a proper rest and some good soul food too judging by how boney he is. this child is a model she understands this but this is to much and it has a medical term called MALNUTRITION so she's not gonna stand by and do nothing.

So she quietly and gentle as she can took photos and notes on Adrien body. because he is wearing a plain white T-shirt and a loose pants all she has to do is hold some of the cloth of the T-shirt to make it tight to show how small and boney he is and she all so did the same thing to the pants. His wearing a T-shirt so his some of is upper arm is shone so the nurse took a measuring tape and measure his arms and leg. And lastly because of the akuma attacks the School funds for the clinic doubled and because of this most of their equipments are brand new and the latest model so the bed has a scale built in it so she took his weight and height. and all of this is recorded in the clinic's CCTV camera she made sure of it.

After all that is done she neatly filed this info on her computer and flash drive then she called his guardians. fortunately for him his father and his assistant is so busy that they cannot answer their phone so it was Gorilla who was called to pick him up.

When Gorilla arrived the nurse was so scared of him she almost scream in fear when he suddenly appeared in front of her luckily she didn't.

"Hello Sir. how can i help you" Nurse

"Hi my name is SImon and I'm here to pick up Adrien" Gorilla (HIS NAME IS SIMON OH MY GOSH I JUST FOUND OUT TODAY!!!)

"Hi my name is Katty and I'm the school nurse nice to meet you"

"Likewise"

"Im sorry but before I hand over Adrien to you i need to see your IDs please"

"Sure"

"Ok it seems that everything is in order then you may take him home, and also my advice is to keep him stress free, eat and sleep more cause we don't want him to suddenly collapse now do we"

"Yes ma'am"

Then Gorilla slowly and Gently picked up Adrien like a porcelain princess and took his backpack/sling bag and went home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Collège Françoise Dupont Gym

"Ok class since Adrien is sick we need to still proceed to class. Now, I want all of you to make two lines.One for boys and one for the girls CHOP ChOP!!! " Gym teacher

“Um Sir. What about lila??” Rose

“What about her?“

“Lila Sprained her risk and ankle so she cant stand very long“ Alya

“Ok then Who’s Lila, Raise your good arm“

“Sir. I’m Lila Rossi“ Liela replied with a small smile and leaning into her left foot for effect

The Teacher saw her and slowly walk towards her while inspecting her body for injuries

“Which foot is sprained and which arm?“

“My right foot and arm sir “Liela said weakly.

“Can i check your arm and foot?“ The Teacher ask nicely

“Yes of course“

So someone brought a chair for her to sit while the Gym Teacher inspect her injuries

“Awww, Aw aw aw awaaa that hurts“ Liela cries dramatically like a spoiled dog. While the Teacher was just holding her arm not doing anything other than carrying it like a sausage

“Ok then Lila where's your medical note seeing as this is a “BIG INJURY” your parents shouldn't have let you go to school?“ The Teacher looking and talking to her like a person would to a two year old

“My Dad left us since i was young and my Mom is so busy that she’d forgotten about me“ Liela said sadly trying to make her tears drop not realizing that the teacher don't buy it

“Hush now don't cry dear I’m sure your mom is just tired now why don't you sit here and be quiet while all of us start the class,O.K“

“Yes sir“ with a final fake sob she smile at the Teacher.

“Ok,now two lines people, great now everybody just jog 20 laps then you are dismissed.But remember do not break your line and JOG NOT RUN OK ALIX AND KIM! if i see any of you break your line or run i’ll make everyone do 15 jumping jacks then additional 10 laps. Am I Clear! “

“Yes,Sir!!“ the Students then do as they were told while lila stayed seated smiling at her small victory and proceeds play on her phone and to search for more things to lie to make her even more popular.

While everybody was busy doing their task no one noticed the Gym Teacher also take’s his phone and contacted the School Nurse asking for Lila’s medical records and telling her what happen today.

Faking an injury to a teacher who was an athlete himself was a big No No but he cant just outed the child right then and there because she’ll get emotional and he doesn't want to cause another akuma.He’ll just do it the old fashion way... Making the parents discipline their own child. but first he needed her records.

“Did you just see what i just witness?“ Chloe while looking at her exhausted classmates after they finished 20 laps.

“What?“ Mari while handling her a bottle of cold water

“You really didn’t see that?,Thanks“

“You mean Liela’s ridiculous lie then yeah and so?“

“So? So?, Mari she just gotten away with it and it wasn’t even a good lie and acting“

“No, I don’t think she did“

“Huh?! Would her majesty care to explain?“

“Our gym Teacher is an Athlete who won medals in his time. He out of everyone here would have known just by looking at someone if they have any physical injuries“

“So he just let her go?“

“No. I don't think he would so let's just watch and see what he'll do, besides if he really fell for it then his just another idiot who needs to be replaced” Marinette said as she and Chloe backed their bags and left.

~~~~~~~~

“Hey Nino do you have any info about Adrien??“ Alix

“Yeah Nino what happen to him?, you were the last person we saw with him?“ Alya

“Well he looked sick so i send him to the clinic, I didn't know that he was that sick“ Nino

“Well I Just hope he gets better“ Alix

“So has anyone gotten started researching yet??“Alya

“Nope we were just hoping that will do it together like in a slumber party?“ Rose

“Actually that’s not bad soo who's house are we going?“Juleka

“What are you guys talking about? and where are we going?“ Liela walked to them when she saw her minions talking without her and of course she was escorted by the ever loyal dog Kim

“I umm“ Juleka

“Yeah where are we going?“ Kim

Everyone was looking at each other knowing that they can fool kim but not Lila.

“Well-“ Alya

“We were planning on a slumber party tonight but we haven't decided where will be staying?“Juleka

“Oh!! why don't we stay at my place my parents arent how so i have are house all to myself and you guys don't have to bring anything with you because and my parents just went to the supermarket yesterday“ Rose

“Really that's great so it's settled will head home pack then will go directly to Rose’s house“ Alya

“Great I can't wait to spend time with my very BEST FRIENDS! but aren't we gonna invite Marinette and Chloe?“ Liela

“No need they’ll just destroy and ruined the party. So what are we waiting for let GOOOOOO!!!“ Alya

After that everyone started packing their bags and left to their respective homes with a smile on their faces.

***************

It's been so long since I Uploaded something and i hope you guys liked it.... If you guys have any suggestion i’ll be happy to read and maybe include them in my next work.

Previous ~ Next

Tag list:

@sonif50 @iglowinggemma28 @kuroko26 @northernbluetongue @xxmadamjinxx @mochineko @zalladane @rikku052 @vixen-uchiha @bb-basbusa @thebananathatwrites @mewwitch @2sunchild2 @spicybelladonna @kiara-rose-blackthorn @elliecake5 @schrodingers25 @silvergold-swirl @lamestplaceontheinternet @marinettewayne07 @hunnibear-x @derpwolfgaming @flower2021 @gratefulenaa @miiaivi @kamarallil

#ml au #ml fic #ml salt #Marinette deserves better #lila salt #ml class salt #Done Chapter 5 #miraculous lady bug salt #marinette x damian

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kyotakumrau · 4 years ago

Text

2021.02.16 2nd session of Meguro Rock-May-KanGIG at Zepp Yokohama

The encore of the recorded concert changed, it was such an awesome surprise! Felt a bit more like an actual concert, I love the idea of the changing setlist!😆

When they prepared the stage again for the talk session, Fujieda and Takabayashi came first. F jokingly started the introductions with 'hi this is Fujifuji~ and...' but T didn't realize what's F is doing (or did he?😂) and didn't join😂 after a moment of F waiting he finally joined with '...I'm T'.

Then F invited the band members on the stage and again Die and Kyo came on stage!

Die stayed in the same outfit, but Kyo changed! He had a long oversized greengrey-ish coat and shirt with a scarf thing.

D: はい、Dieでっすー

K: 京です🦊

F started to talk about Kyo's birthday again, but then K casually turned to the side and very casually without a comment pointed his phone at F.

F: are you filming me?!

K: I can't? (あかん？)

F: Ah no, it's okay...

*K continues*

F:... so Happy Birthday Kyo!

...

K: you know, I'm not that happy with the waiting time between the sessions, I'd prefer to do the talk part at the beginning and then go home. I don't want to waste time. We should have two patterns, one with the talking first.

(I guess some fans would be happy with that too😂)

F: (moved to the Rock-May-Kan film topic) so you played your new song, Ochita koto no aru sora there, how was it?

K: it was okay, it went smoothly

D said something like the song was ok, it will likely change/transform when the tour comes (?)

F: so it wasn't hard.

D: the hard part was that the stage was so narrow there was only space for few extra people (cameramen), all other staff were waiting in the audience area

F: so when you had to change guitars etc they had to climb the stage?

D: also with guitar tunning, especially the 7 string one, it's really tough and takes time, so it felt there wasn't enough time during short breaks between the songs. Toshiya always does tunning humself, I don't, I guess I should improve that a bit.

F: any songs that stood out?

K: I guess Jealous

F: in what way?

K: the arrangement was too old, it's actually embarrassing (how bad it is), the lyrics too. I changed the lyrics, I was laughing internally at myself, but I couldn't change the arrangement. it was like hell.

He also complained that some parts were too high, they were hard to sing. Some parts changed the piano intro done by Takumi etc, he didn't want to listen to the CD, old version, because it was too embarrassing.

F: and it became a 2021 version?

K: I want to change it even more, make it less troublesome for me.

D: it wasn't hard for me, but it is old, so the song's speed doesn't match my body anymore (not too fast, just wrong speed), it was easy to play though.

K: but it was hard to know how to move during the song.

*Kyo then showed us a movement he got unhappy with*

K: So I moved as little as possible

F: it didn't look like you had this much trouble

K: I'm a pro in the end.

😆

F next talked about the release of Oboro on April 28th.

F: K, you said that Oboro is refreshing. How about TDFF?

K: てんでだめなぶしぶし (TendeDamenaFujiFuji can translate to 'utterly useless Fujieda')

🤣

F: D, you said it's powerful, what about Oboro?

D: the music video is good. The filming took quite a long time, the way we used to do it in the past.

K: it was [refreshingly] cool, too fresh (light).

D: it got refreshing from about halfway?

F then talked about the merchandise. He started with the travel poach, he held it up and moved it closer to the center of the table so fans could see it on the screen in the back. But by doing that it ended up quite close to Kyo's head. K gave F a super bewildered look, turned to check the screen in the back and then continued to give F evil glares of 'why you doin this to me'😂

K: I thought that rubber keychains are so cute! We should release the older costume versions as well (he got applause from the audience for that).

K then commented it looks so cute that they all got beheaded with their heads so low, like they're holding their heads.

D grabbed the rechargeable heat pack and said (totally sarcastic): ah so wa~rm...

😂

F: the highest temperature is 40℃.

K: (gets the pack) Can you charge devices with it? Huh, it just gets hot? When you're in trouble or sth you can't use it as charger? People would have wanted that in December...

F: ...(passes it to Die)

D: it's exactly the same temperature as the charging phone...

F next showed us the usb power strip holding it over Kyo, K got uncomfortable again😅

After that they moved to the questions from fans.

D: "anything you were particular about when creating the setlist?" We added songs we were thinking about playing at SOGAI, so also some older songs.

F: do you have any good questions?

K passes one paper to F.

F reads: "did F do anything to make you angry?"

and K replied with a list😂 the main was again F's easy ﾊｲﾊｲﾊｲ ( like yeayeah) or biting his lips.

F: how about you D?

D: nothing really.

F: " do you have favourite ramen?"

K (immediately): Jiroken. And it has to be smaller noodle portion with more toppings (麺少なめ全マシ), it's the best.

D: I don't really eat ramen.

F: you also said no McDonald.

D: yeah

F: Have you tried Jiro?

D: once or so

K (concerned😂): did you eat normal ramen? Which shop?

he made sure Die knows which ramen to order and which shop is the best😂

T: "which venue would you like to play at next?"

D said not exactly a venue, he would like to go to prefectures they haven't been to yet.

K: Nagoya Music Fan.

F: in Fujigaoka?

T: Does it still exist?

F: yeah.

T: let's discuss it in the future (aka not very likely?😂)

F: but it's not impossible!

F then picked a 'combo-question': "do you use any perfumes? What are you crazy about now? What kind of BGM do you play at home?"

K: I don't use perfume. I have a bar soap I like, the old style one with an image of cow on it. It doesn't have a strong smell.

F: how about BGM?

K: I only play Fortnite. Ah, but now the Chinese buns skins are on sale. I've been playing for a year and only saw someone using it once. Somehow I like the least popular skin.

K: at home I also eat cookies. Chocolate cookies.

F: what kind/brand?

K: Any.

D: I use perfume / he said he got Fueguia (but then there was some thing wrong with the frangrance after a while, it went away???)

And no crazes or BGMs.

D: "when you travel on work to other cities, are your seats on bullet train decided? Do you sit next to someone?"

D: it's not really decided, we travel by ourselves (??), most of us prefer aisle seat. So I was surprised when once Shinya asked if we could swap so he can get the window side.

F: and you K, window or aisle?

K: Definitely aisle. If you're on the window side and someone next to you falls asleep it's really rude to wake them up if you need to get up. I prefer to be woken up than wake someone up.😇

D: There's also the table.

K: aaah, Shinya likes window seat so you could put the table down with some food on top of it and then pretend to be dead sleeping.😈

The change😂 he was laughing so much at the idea too😂

F: "what's your preference for the food at venues?" (??)

K: sushi.

D: like in Shinkiba.

K: yeah, I get so excited.

F: We also had sushi in the US.

K: We got it from a fan.

D told us a story how he was able to start eating eel/unagi, he doesn't like fishbones but once in Nagoya everyone was having hitsumabushi backstage and saying how good it is, so he tried and actually liked it.

F: "Did you watch any good movies recently? I watched Miike's 'Imprint'". Do you know this movie, K?

K: Yeah, it as good.

F: you watch movies often.

K: Recently I watched Rob Zombie's '3 from Hell'.

F: how about you, D?

D: a movie with Tachi Hiroshi, a new one, about yakuza (he didn't remember the title, but most likely ヤクザと家族 The Family (2021)).

F: "Do you have a favourite fruit?"

K: melon.

F: do you eat it at home?

K: no・食べない

F: do you eat it if it's backstage?

K: yes・食べる

F: but at home?

K: no・食べない

F: melon...

K: like・好き

👨‍👦

F: do you eat melons at home, D?

D: I don't.

T: "who do you like from Fist of the North Star?"

D: I saw it, but I don't remember details.

K gave a very detailed answer but as I haven't seen it I didn't really get it (the only name I caught was Shuren)😅 but he compared one character to F?😆

And then came Kyo's biggest laughing fit.

The question was about some story about other members they remember the most. Kyo talked about how once Kaoru had trouble with the mic stand and guitar cable, the cable got twisted around the stand and Kaoru ended up empty handed which Kyo found very amusing. Then Kyo just kept gesturing the 'round round・ぐるぐる' bit and he was laughing so much he started crying🤣

But then Die said he had a similar situation once and F replied he remembers that. Kyo burst out again and then it was also Die's turn to just lose it🤣

The laughers to the point of tears continued for a while as they tried to calm down😂

But then.

Then.

Suddenly the backscreen went black with a message 'battery empty, please change battery' and the venue that was giggling because of band members also exploded.

The timing was just too much🤣🤣🤣

F said it's time to finish anyway and asked them for the last comments for the fans, starting from Die.

Die: ... 🤣... can't think of... anything🤣...I'm crying🤣

F: ... let's go from Kyo

K: ... I don't have anything to say... all...

(a moment)

Kyo: I don't have any big message. But please wait a bit more for the new single. It will be like Taiyou no Ao 2.0, in a good way. ...or Taiyou no Ao remix.

Die: Thank you for coming today. ... I'd really love to do a normal tour soon, shows with audience. For now please enjoy the concert film from Rock-May-Kan, but in the future let's enjoy the show all together... I still can't stop tearing up🤣 ok, I'm done.

A marvelous ending of even more marvelous day😆💚❤️

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #die #目黒鹿鳴館gig #attempt at live report #zepp yokohama

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

Text

Spellbinding (Chapter Seven-Part One)

Summary: A day before Tony Stark’s charity ball, (Y/N) is assigned her very-first mission as an Avenger and needless to say, she finds herself under extreme pressure not to fail.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: The Spanish in this chapter was translated with Google Translate, so I’m sorry if there’s a mistake in it.

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seven (Part I) July 10th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“Hurry up, (Y/L/N), your Quinjet’s gonna be leaving soon and we still have to see if your suit’s working okay!”

As Bruce scolded Tony for being too pushy, (Y/N) finished fastening her sword to her belt with quaking fingers. After three months of extensive daily training, she was finally going on her first field mission as an Avenger; according to Director Fury and Steve, she had excelled in both magical and physical training and was finally ready to put her skills to good use. (Y/N) was excited, of course, but she was also a complete nervous wreck. What if I make a mistake and put the others in danger, she asked herself for the tenth time that day. She knew how much her teammates would be counting on her on this mission, and she was terrified of such high expectations resting squarely on her shoulders.

To distract herself from the butterflies in her stomach, she looked into the floor-length mirror and examined her brand-new uniform. It reminded her of Natasha’s full-body leather suit, but there were several distinct differences; (Y/N)’s bodysuit was made of black and purple leather, it included pieces of black leather armor and matching fingerless gloves and she wore knee-high leather wedge boots, silver arm circlets and gauntlets on her forearms. A long purple cloak hung from her shoulders by silver-toned clasps, and her sheathed sword hung from her waist. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection, her new suit making her feel just as empowered as the tower’s two resident Asgardians. Smoothing down her hair one last time, she took a deep breath and drew back the curtain separating her from the rest of the lab, causing both men to turn and gape.

Tony’s eyebrows raised and his mouth hung open almost comically. “Damn, (Y/L/N), you look…”

“Fantastic!” Bruce smiled widely.

“I was gonna say ‘badass’ but ‘fantastic’ works too.” The billionaire gestured for her to stand on a short stool before continuing. “We designed the leather of the suit to be breathable and flexible, the armor’s bullet-proof and it can even withstand extreme heat and cold to a certain degree.” Tony pointed to her silver gauntlets as he paced around her. “FYI, these were partly inspired by our little bonding incident a few weeks back, (Y/L/N), remember? They’re not vibranium like Capsicle’s shield but they’re still bullet-proof in case any get through your magic.”

(Y/N) twisted her forearms to examine the gauntlets better. “That’s amazing, Tony!” The billionaire smiled proudly at her compliment. “But, what about my glasses? I can’t wear them on missions and you guys know my eyes don’t react well to contact lenses…”

Bruce’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “That problem had us stumped for a while, but last week we finally managed invent a solution that didn’t involve cutting into your corneas with a laser.” He handed her a pair of metal-framed glasses and held her regular pair for her. “Put these on and press the button on the right side of the frame, please.”

“Oh, my goodness…” (Y/N)’s mouth fell open as she followed his instructions and examined her reflection in the mirror Bruce held up. The glasses had flickered once before turning completely invisible, making it look as if she didn’t wear glasses at all. “How did you two geniuses manage this?”

Both scientists looked pleased with her reaction. “Well, we just adapted the same cloaking technology that S.H.I.E.L.D. used on their helicarrier and improved upon it; anyone attacking you won’t realize you’re wearing glasses unless they sock you in the eye, which is something I’m pretty sure you’d stop from happening.”

“The lenses are bullet-proof, scratch and glare-resistant, they’re fitted so they won’t fall off and we made several pairs just in case something happens to these ones.” Bruce set down the mirror and picked up his clipboard to jot down some notes. “Now, does everything feel all right? Nothing’s too tight or too loose?”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) moved her arms and legs to be sure. “Everything feels perfect.” The moment Bruce finished writing down his notes, she jumped down from her stool and gave him a tight hug, smiling when she felt him slowly return it. “Thank you, Bruce.” She pulled away from him and gave Tony a hug, which he was much quicker to return. “And thank you too, Tony. The suit is wonderful and I feel much safer now that I have it!”

“No problem, (Y/N), we just want to make sure you’re protected when you go out there.”

“Yeah, Stevie Nicks, you should always use protection.” Tony smirked playfully as (Y/N) blushed and Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation at his suggestive comment.

Just then, Natasha walked in, dressed in her standard black leather bodysuit with her hair braided over her shoulder. “Nice suit, (Y/N)! Cap wanted me to tell you that the Quinjet’s leaving in five, so you’d better hurry up.”

“Thank you, Nat, I’ll be there in a minute,” She turned back to the two men as Natasha left and grinned. “Well, wish me luck!”

Bruce gave her a smile. “Good luck, (Y/N).”

Tony’s smirk widened. “Yeah, not that you need it, though; you’re gonna kick so much ass out there in that getup.”

Chuckling lightly, (Y/N) gave them one last glance before leaving the lab; on the way to the elevator, she heard someone call her name and turned to see Loki hurrying to catch up with her. Her heart beat even faster in her chest when she noticed that he was wearing her favorite outfit: fitted black slacks and an emerald-green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders. She mentally chastised herself before saying, “Hi Loki, what are you up to?”

“I couldn’t very well let my best friend leave on her first mission without wishing her luck now, could I?” Loki flashed her a grin, but she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “You look positively fearsome in that armor, by the way. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, and I guess I feel a little nervous,” She said truthfully as they stepped into the elevator, knowing better than to lie to him. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for any of the others getting hurt.”

Loki gently took her hand and held it between his own as the elevator rose, making her faintly blush at the contact. “Lady (Y/N), I can assure you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Our teammates can take care of themselves, and as long as you remember all the training you’ve excelled at over these past few months, you’ll be able to protect them and yourself if the need arises. Remember, everyone in this tower believes in you, but none more so than I.”

Looking into his sincere green eyes, she could feel her nervousness slowly begin to melt away and she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Loki, that really helped.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance,” He grinned before letting go of her hand. “And please try to hurry back, I don’t think I could handle going to Stark’s charity ball tomorrow evening and watch everyone make fools of themselves by myself.”

Stark Industries hosted over a hundred charity events for dozens of different causes and organizations every year, but one of the only ones held personally by the billionaire included an annual charity ball to raise money for children’s hospitals across the country. Since the Avengers had begun using the tower as their base three years ago, the ball had become increasingly popular as more and more people were willing to donate to attend and meet the heroes. (Y/N) was excited to go and promote such a worthy cause, but she was also excited for an entirely different reason: two weeks ago, Loki had asked her to accompany him as his date. She could vividly remember the moment he’d asked her…

“Loki? Loki, are you in there?” (Y/N) knocked on his door before sighing. “Listen, Steve told me that you haven’t been having a good day so I brought you some snacks. We can watch a movie, if you want? Trust me, nothing will cheer you up more than chocolate chip cookies and A Knight’s Tale! It’s about a squire who poses as a knight and competes in jousting tourna-”

“What’s jousting?”

(Y/N) shrieked and spun around to face a laughing Loki, pressing her free hand to her chest and smiling despite herself. “Loki, that wasn’t funny! I almost had a heart attack!”

Loki continued to snicker. “Apologies, my lady, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

“So, I take it that you’re having a better day now?” She followed him into his room and sat in her usual place on his couch, handing him his cookies with a raised brow.

He nodded, a cheerful look on his face. “Significantly better, actually. I suddenly remembered that Stark’s charity ball is in two weeks and that I’ll be able to enjoy it with you. That is, if you wish to accompany me…”

“Of course I’ll go with you, Loki, who else would I go with?” (Y/N) mirrored his bright smile before gesturing to the television across from them. “So, snacks and a movie?” As they watched A Knight’s Tale, (Y/N) concluded that Loki was only asking her to accompany him as a friend; she was a little disappointed, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow her emotions to ruin a fun night for her and her best friend.

(Y/N) chuckled to herself as the memory faded; they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the floor’s glass doors. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in no time.” Before he could reply, they stepped out into the tower’s small hangar where a Quinjet was being prepared for departure on the protruding helipad.

“There you are, (Y/N), we’re almost ready to leave!” Steve called from the Quinjet’s ramp as he slung his shield onto his back and adjusted his helmet’s jaw strap.

Loki gave her a reassuring smile. “Good luck on your first mission, Lady (Y/N).” He leaned down to give her a hug but to her surprise, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her up off her feet; she giggled in surprise and he laughed, gently swaying her from side-to-side as she wrapped her arms around his neck and experienced the now-familiar fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “And please, stay safe.”

“I will, Loki, I have an important engagement tomorrow night that I can’t miss, remember?” She joked, feeling a swell of pride when he chuckled lightly. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He set her gently on her feet and she reluctantly pulled away from his arms, giving him one last smile before following Steve into the Quinjet. The ramp closed behind them and (Y/N) quickly strapped herself into the seat next to a familiar face as the plane lifted into the air.

“Hi Scott, I haven’t seen you in a while!” (Y/N) had met Scott Lang during her first month as an Avenger; he was in awe that she was half-Light Elf and had nearly fainted from excitement when she gave him a small demonstration of her powers, and she was equally amazed with his suit’s ability to change sizes and the way he was able to communicate with ants. He wasn’t in the tower often but whenever he was, they got along very well. “How are you? How’s Cassie doing?”

Scott smiled, a gleam in his eyes that he got whenever anyone mentioned his five-year-old daughter. “Ah, I’m good, my buddies and I just opened up our security company – we call it X-CON, get it? – and Cassie’s doing great; I helped her read through a picture-book version of Charlotte’s Web and she’s been reading it all by herself for the past week!”

(Y/N) grinned, the pride in his voice filling her with happiness. “That’s wonderful, tell her I said ‘congratulations’! And congratulations to you for your company; I take it they let you come up with the name yourself?”

As the Quinjet continued to fly, (Y/N) continued talking to the energetic man, thankful that he was there to keep her mind off the nervousness surrounding her swiftly-approaching first mission.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, they had reached their destination: the Dominican Republic on the island of Hispaniola. Their mission was simple, to destroy a large weapons compound that was operated by a terrorist organization with known ties to Hydra. Scott would go in first and disable the nearly-impenetrable security system before splitting off with Natasha while (Y/N) and Steve stayed together; each group would then plant a batch of explosives around the vast compound. The explosives were rigged to a detonator Natasha held, but it was still imperative they get out as quickly as possible in case of any complications. Please let everything turn out all right, (Y/N) silently prayed as they trekked closer to the compound and took cover twenty yards away behind a fallen tree. The moment Steve gave him the signal, Scott pressed a button on the glove of his suit and instantly shrunk, and a moment later, the tiny outline of an ant could be seen in the fading moonlight, flying quickly towards the compound’s concrete wall.

“Don’t tell Tony, but I think your suit’s way cooler than his, Lang.” Natasha’s lips curled into a smile but her eyes continued to scan the area for any threats.

(Y/N) heard Scott’s soft chuckle through her comm link. “Black Widow likes my suit more than Iron Man’s? Awesome.”

“All right, you both remember the plan, right?” Steve looked up from his explosives-filled satchel and glanced at the two of them.

“We’ve been over the plan twenty times, Cap, we’re fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes but grew serious when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s face. “We’re fine, right (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) nodded once, trying to mask her nervousness with a smile. “Yeah, of course, Nat.”

“Hey super-dudes, I just disabled the security system so come on in whenever you’re ready! But, you might wanna hurry ‘cause I have to turn it back on after one minute so they won’t get suspicious…which you already know ‘cause we went over the plan on the Quinjet. My bad. And I just realized, (Y/N), you’re the only one of us who doesn’t have a cool superhero name and that’s just not acceptable, so I’m gonna make one up for you, okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile at Scott’s unique way of calming her jittery nerves. “Okay Scott, go ahead and make up a cool superhero name for me.”

“Time to go.” Steve pulled his shield onto his arm and gave her an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine, (Y/N), don’t worry.” The two of them crept silently towards the compound and Steve motioned for her to get behind him before swiftly pulling the unlocked front door open. He immediately threw his shield, hitting the three surprised guards in the heads and catching it as they crumpled to the ground. Silently marveling at Steve’s impressive throwing skills, (Y/N) followed him as they continued down the vast hall.

“Cap, (Y/N), you’ve got two armed guards heading straight towards you on your left, and a couple of others coming up from behind.” Natasha said, revealing that she had already reached the compound’s control room.

Steve glanced at (Y/N) and gestured for her to take the lead before turning to prepare for the attack, and she immediately knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath and concentrating all her energy into her hands, she summoned two balls of purple magic in her palms; the moment the two men turned the corner in front of them, she thrust her hands and magic outwards, engulfing the men in swirls of purple magic and causing them to slam into each other and then into the concrete wall behind them. They hit the wall with a sickening crunch and fell to the ground, unconscious. Behind her, Steve threw his shield and took out the other two guards.

Natasha chuckled through the earpiece. “Nicely done, Bad-Ass; Scott and I are onto Phase Two, so you two are on your own. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point when we’re done.”

The two Avengers continued down the halls of the compound, occasionally coming across the remnants of Natasha and Scott’s handiwork but strangely no more armed men. In no time, they reached the compound’s warehouse, which was filled with hundreds of wooden crates. Weapons, (Y/N) thought as she frowned in disgust. This particular terrorist organization was responsible for half a dozen attacks around the world in recent years that had resulted in countless civilian casualties, so she had no problem with working to take them down along with Hydra.

They quickly began planting the explosives all around the vast room but just as they finished, at least two dozen armed guards burst in. Steve immediately ran into battle, but (Y/N) froze in fear, her legs unwilling to move. Time seemed to slow around her as a familiar feminine voice spoke in her head: “Kiddo, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent…”

You’ve spent three months training for this exact moment, (Y/N) thought to herself, now it’s time to show the world its newest Avenger. She unsheathed her sword and charged at the men; she sliced through their guns like butter before they could pull the triggers and deflected their knife attacks with ease, twirling and ducking around them and using their slowness to her advantage as she slashed at them. She was vaguely aware of Steve fighting nearby but she was entirely focused on her task of incapacitating her attackers. Her luck left her, however, when she kicked an attacker to the ground; the last man standing took her by surprise then with a hard punch to the stomach and wrenched her arm behind her back, causing her to gasp in pain and drop her sword.

“No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?” The man growled into her ear as he pointed a knife to her chest, its tip puncturing the exposed skin along her collarbone.

“Todavía no has visto nada.” She replied, elbowing him hard in the stomach and ducking under his arm as he doubled over in pain. Rolling out of the way, she picked up her fallen sword and raised it just in time to block his knife attack; she countered it by twisting the knife out of his hands and slamming the hilt of her sword against his head. Her attacker fell to the ground like a stone, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, (Y/N) looked around for Steve and saw that he was locked in combat with a larger man. She was about to hurry to his aid when she caught sight of a sniper crouching atop a tower of crates and pointing a rifle at Steve’s unaware back. Without a moment of thought, she sheathed her sword and ran into the line of fire just as the sniper pulled the trigger. Time seemed to slow down and she could practically see the bullet flying through the air; raising both her hands and summoning her magic, she was rewarded with the sight of the bullet ricocheting away and a millisecond later, the sight of the sniper being engulfed in a swirling purple cloud and thrown roughly against the wall before falling to the ground.

She turned to see Steve standing over his defeated attacker, a stunned expression on his face. (Y/N) only breathed a sigh of relief, her pride and relief overtaking her earlier nervousness.

“Wait, you speak Spanish?”

Scott’s legitimately confused tone causing her to stifle a smile. “Yes, Scott, I speak some Spanish. A little French, as well.”

“As much as I’d love to learn more about Trilingual (Y/N), we’ve got a mission to finish. Scott and I are already at the rendezvous-”

Just then, the unmistakable sounds of thundering footsteps echoed from the hall; it sounded as if nearly fifty heavily-armed men were approaching, all heading right for them. When they turned to look through the small window of the door, they could clearly make out the bazookas the first several men held in their arms as they approached. They plan on sacrificing their weapons and their lives just to kill us, she thought with a horrified gasp.

(Y/N) quickly used her magic to keep the door barred and whirled around to face Steve, an undoubtedly insane plan coming to mind. “Nat, you have the detonator. Press the button when I tell you to.”

“But you and Steve are still in there!”

“Nat, if we don’t blow this place to hell right now, then they’ll be the ones to do it! Besides,” Steve’s confident blue eyes never left hers as he gave her an encouraging nod. “(Y/N) has a plan.”

Natasha remained silent for several moments. “All right, tell me when.”

“I really hope your crazy idea works, (Y/N), or else you two are gonna be toast.”

Hurrying to the center of the warehouse, (Y/N) knelt, pulling Steve down with her, and held her arms up above their heads; she was grateful that the super soldier wrapped an arm around her waist and raised his shield as a precaution, as things were about to become much shakier. Summoning every ounce of strength and power she could without passing out, she created a swirling bubble of purple magic to fully surround them. I love you, Loki, she thought just before shouting out, “Now!”

Explosions went off around them and caused the earth to quake, enormous balls of fire to expand across the room and the warehouse to begin crumbling away around them. To her great relief, her magical force-field held, deflecting the fire and debris and keeping the air inside fresh, but her arms began to shake with effort. All of a sudden, it felt as if she was lifting an immeasurable weight but she continued to hold her magic in place despite the pain. I have to protect Steve, I have to protect Steve, she repeated in her head, gritting her teeth and concentrating all her remaining energy on her magic. That last bit of effort did the trick; yelling in pain, magic pulsed outwards from the force field, vaporizing everything within fifty feet of them and extinguishing the blazing fires. She collapsed against Steve and struggled to remain conscious, the force field surrounding them finally fading away; they both immediately began coughing as their lungs filled with smoky air.

“C’mon (Y/N), stay with me,” Wasting no time, Steve stood and pulled her into his arms, quickly carrying her through the thick smoke and towards the distant tree line. “I’ve got you, can you stay awake for me? Stay awake, (Y/N), we’re almost there, just keep your eyes open…”

She opened her mouth to respond but could only violently cough; after blacking out for what only felt like a moment, she blinked her eyes open and realized that they were back on the Quinjet and already in the air. Her head was resting in Steve’s lap, and Natasha and Scott were leaning over her; all three of them had equally concerned expressions on their faces. “(Y/N)! Thank God you’re okay!”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and looked up at all three beaming Avengers. “Did…did we finish the mission? Who’s flying the Quinjet?”

“Don’t worry, I put it on autopilot and yeah,” Natasha nodded, a proud smile stretching across her face. “Yeah, we finished the mission all thanks to you, Bad-Ass. Seriously, what you did was fucking amazing, (Y/N).”

Steve grinned; he had taken off his helmet while she was unconscious, and the parts of his face that hadn’t been covered were streaked with soot. “Not too shabby for your first mission, doll.”

“And while you were off being awesome, I came up with the perfect superhero name for you,” Scott grinned triumphantly before continuing. “How about ‘The Cosmic Sorceress?’ ‘Cause based off what Captain America here told us and what we saw ourselves, you showed a lot of bad guys that you’re a scary-ass force to be reckoned with, and bad-assery like that deserves a name to match.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, a smile slowly stretching across her face as she looked up at her fellow Avengers. “You know what? I love it, Scott.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spanish Translations: No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?-You're not so tough now, are you bitch? Todavía no has visto nada-You haven't seen anything yet.

A/N: (Y/N) finally has a ‘made-up name’ like the others! Sorry to leave you in suspense, but Loki and (Y/N)’s ‘date’ will be the next chapter so stay tuned! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Seven-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #tony stark #iron man #bruce banner #hulk #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #scott lang #ant man #marvel cinematic universe

88 notes · View notes

theglowyscorpio · 3 years ago

Text

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

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tiramisiyu · 3 years ago

Text

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Xia Yan Personal Story 4-1 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video

Chapter 4: 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-7 / 4-9 / 4-10 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-14 / 4-16

Xia Yan’s Home

Our interactions after I moved into Xia Yan’s house had a long-lost familiarity to them, but also… a strange unfamiliarity.

When I walked up to the washroom door, the door suddenly opened from inside – Xia Yan had just finished showering and was just in the middle of wiping off his hair when he pushed the door open.

Just like in the past, he didn’t try very hard to dry it off, such that the white T-shirt that he was wearing was slightly damp, clinging onto his firm body.

Xia Yan: Why are you up so early?

MC: Sphinx said that he was going to contact us about collaborating on the case, right? I was afraid that he’d come over really early…

Xia Yan: Don’t worry, he won’t.

MC: How do you know? Did he contact you alone?

Xia Yan: Oh, he didn’t. I’m just speculating.

Xia Yan: Sphinx has always preferred operating alone in the dark. Even if he needed to work with us right now, he still probably wouldn’t want to reveal his identity.

Xia Yan: Plus, even if he doesn’t mind that, right now isn’t a good time.

Xia Yan: The two of us just appeared in front of Meng Qishan. Even though I’ve already threatened him to not reveal any info on us to Oedipus…

Xia Yan: It’s always best to take every possibility in consideration. If Sphinx seeks us out right now, he just might send himself to Oedipus for nothing.

Xia Yan: If I were him, I’d also opt to work underground. We’re out in the open while he’s hidden, which is more beneficial for the investigation.

MC: Makes sense.

MC: Right, why did you shower so early?

Xia Yan: Uh… I just finished up my morning run, so I took a quick cold shower.

Xia Yan: Right, are you also going to wash your face?

Xia Yan: Wait a bit, I just noticed that there’s no more toothpaste. I’ll get you a new tube.

MC: No need, I brought some.

MC: If you also haven’t washed your face yet, we can just use my toothpaste.

I helped Xia Yan squeeze out the toothpaste. Then, we stood side-by-side in front of the mirror to wash up.

Because we had grown up, and because Xia Yan’s home washroom was comparatively smaller, Xia Yan and I kept bumping into each other.

The steam that hadn’t dispersed yet in the washroom filled the air with the scent of shower gel. This was just a typical scent, but because Xia Yan was beside me, it felt… somewhat different.

Right now, the past commonplace occurrence of us washing our faces and brushing our teeth together… made me feel somewhat nervous.

The mirror in front of us candidly revealed all my emotions with complete clarity. I shifted away my gaze as if in escape, not daring to look at the mirror again.

MC: Xia Yan, are you still using this brand of shampoo?

The items on the shelves, the shampoo, the shower gel… were still the brands we used at home, eight years ago.

Xia Yan: Yeah. I had to buy new daily necessities after getting back, but I’m no good at picking them out…

Xia Yan: So I chose them based on our old habits – easy and saves me from worrying, haha.

In all these years, he still hadn’t forgotten those little habits. I suddenly felt a little happy.

But Xia Yan’s and my mouth-rinsing cups were a pair in the past, while they were now two completely different ones.

MC: What about your mouth-rinsing cup?

Xia Yan: There’s no one who sells that cup model anymore.

The small happiness that had just surged in my heart suddenly turned into a bit of disappointment.

MC: Is that so…

MC: Uh… about that, Xia Yan…

Xia Yan: Huh? What?

MC: A few days ago, I saw a pair of mouth-rinsing cups that look really nice online, and your cup just happens to be kinda worn… how about we change them together?

Xia Yan: Sure.

Xia Yan’s Home, Second Floor

After washing my face with Xia Yan, Sphinx called us, describing his action plan.

Just as Xia Yan had said, Sphinx was planning to continue hiding his identity. We would work out in the open while he remained hidden as we investigated together.

Sphinx: That’s what our plan is.

Sphinx: For these few days, I’ll first confirm whether there are other victims that corrupt detectives are harassing, and deal with their issues.

Sphinx: After confirming that those corrupt detectives have to do with Oedipus, you two can use other methods to investigate while hidden.

Xia Yan: Okay. Then we’ll wait for you to contact us.

Sphinx: Alright, that’s all-

MC: Wait, Sphinx.

The moment before Sphinx hung up, I called out to him.

Sphinx: Does Miss Lawyer have any other questions to bring up?

MC: I have some questions regarding our approaches towards cooperation. Sphinx, I acknowledge the reasons why you do not want to reveal your true identity right now.

MC: But we’ve already started investigating with you. You should at least display your sincerity, should you not?

Sphinx: …

Sphinx: Then how do you want me to display my sincerity, Miss Lawyer?

MC: Return Xia Yan’s box.

I heard a faint chuckle on the other side of the call.

MC: (What’s so funny about that?)

Xia Yan: Sphinx.

Perhaps because the pressure in Xia Yan’s voice, Sphinx’s brazen laughter stopped.

But there was a still faint layer of mischief in his voice.

Sphinx: Of course. I will get in touch with same-city speed delivery right after. You’ll be able to get your box today.

Sphinx: But after receiving it, I’d like to trouble both of you to examine it carefully.

Sphinx: Though you can consider me as a rogue, the point of stealing the box was to develop a cooperative relationship with you…

Sphinx: Logically, I wouldn’t play any tricks on these little things, but the two of you should still personally, carefully confirm it all.

Sphinx: For example, what if something happens with the delivery company and they break the box… then won’t I end up getting a really unfair accusation?

MC: Don’t worry, we will carefully look over the delivery.

Sphinx: If you say so, Miss Lawyer, then I can be at peace.

Sphinx: Although, Detective Xia Yan, why aren’t you speaking? You’re the most important involved party here. You, of all people, have got to be there to look over the delivery.

After Sphinx mentioned his name, Xia Yan’s face twisted very visibly.

Xia Yan: I… will.

MC: (Why does Sphinx sound like he’s messing with him…)

MC: (He hasn’t put something weird in the box to prank us, has he?)

These doubts continued until that afternoon, when we received the delivery Sphinx had sent.

I looked at the delivery box with severe caution.

MC: Xia Yan, could Sphinx have messed with something in the delivery box?

MC: I felt like there was something suspicious about his tone in the call.

Xia Yan: That guy definitely isn’t acting out of the goodness of his heart.

MC: No surprises there, you also feel the same…

Xia Yan: Mhmm… I messaged him after, asking what his goal was, but he just deliberately rambled on without saying anything important.

Xia Yan: How about I open it myself first, then call you over to see after confirming that there’s nothing wrong with it?

MC: That won’t do. No matter what happens, we’ve got to face it all together.

MC: Plus, didn’t you say before that Sphinx is an alright person? I bet that, at most, he’s just pranking us somewhere.

Xia Yan: … But I want to rescind that evaluation on him now.

Xia Yan sighed, then opened the package.

That box with the Sherlock Holmes pipe printed on it was wrapped in layers of bubble wrap, looking like it hadn’t suffered any bumps on the way here.

MC: He sure did give it enough protection. Just based on that, I’m willing to forgive him even if there is a prank somewhere.

Xia Yan: Well, that’s something he should be doing.

Xia Yan scoffed and opened the wooden box. The inside was filled to the brim with various little items.

His biology competition gold medals, the models he made himself… as well as many familiar objects. And what was piled at the very top of everything was a ring.

A ring with very crude worksmanship. The ring had been wound from copper into a circular shape, and a laminated four-leaf clover was sitting on the top.

This was the first thing that Xia Yan had personally made for me.

MC: Isn’t this the ring you made for me during kindergarten?

When we were still in kindergarten, we “played house” often, that popular child’s game.

One time, we got too into the game and thought that the ring braided from dog’s tail grass didn’t look nice enough, so we secretly took mom’s ring.

And then… we were both reprimanded severely.

Back then, I didn’t know how valuable the ring was or what its special meaning was, so I really didn’t understand why mom was unhappy.

MC: Back then, dad explained that the ring was one that he gave to mom, so only mom could wear it.

MC: But in the end, you hollered—

Back then, Xia Yan had earnestly yelled “Then I’ll just give her a ring”…

MC: …!

Xia Yan: …

We were long past those times when children’s words held no weight.

MC: (Does Xia Yan… still remember what he said back then…)

I lowered my head in a fluster, rubbing the ring in embarrassment.

When we were little, Xia Yan accidentally made the clover ring too big, so we comforted each other, saying that it would be just right if I wore it after we grew up.

And right now… I couldn’t help attempting to fit the ring on my middle finger.

MC: It’s on. The size is perfect…

Xia Yan: Yeah… perfect.

Xia Yan repeated the words in a whisper, then stared quietly at the four-leaf clover ring.

I stroked the ring on my hand. Suddenly…

MC: Xia Yan…

Xia Yan: Huh? What’s the matter?

MC: It seems like I can’t take off the ring…

Xia Yan: Huh?

Xia Yan held up my hand, trying to shift the ring, but the ring didn’t move in the slightest.

His brow wrinkled as he snatched a small plier from the toolbox on the table.

MC: What are you doing!

Alarmed, I stared at Xia Yan.

Xia Yan: I’ve got to hurry and cut off the ring, or else your finger will end up swollen.

MC: I refuse!

Xia Yan: Don’t fuss, this is just a toy ring. Your finger’s more important.

As he spoke, Xia Yan had already grabbed my hand. I rushed to cover the ring with my other hand, resisting desperately.

MC: No way! You gave this ring to me, so it’s mine! I refuse to let you break it!

Xia Yan: Jeez, I’ll make you another one in the future, okay? Be good.

MC: The one in the future is for the future, but you can’t break this ring either!

We traded fast verbal shots without realizing anything. Only after coming back to my senses did I notice… something wasn’t quite right.

MC: !!!

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: Sit tight, I’ll find some lubricating oil to see if it’ll work.

Xia Yan soon brought the lubricating oil. He applied some to my middle finger first, then tried to rotate the ring gently, trying to push it off.

MC: Ugh…!

Xia Yan immediately stopped.

Xia Yan: It hurts?

Xia Yan: Looks like this really won’t work.

Xia Yan sighed helplessly, then took a small plier from the toolbox.

MC: You’re…

Xia Yan: Don’t worry, I’ll be really careful. I’ll do my best to not break the ring.

Xia Yan: Don’t fidget, I don’t want to hurt you by accident.

To make working on it easier, Xia Yan half-knelt in front of me, holding up the hand with the ring gently.

His actions right now lent a particular ambiguity to the scene all of a sudden.

MC: …!

Xia Yan: What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?

MC: No… keep going.

How exactly… does Xia Yan see me?

Bit by bit, each scene after my reunion flooded my mind.

MC: (Xia Yan’s always carefully held onto this ring for so long…)

MC: (To me… does Xia Yan also…?)

As soon as this thought popped into my head, my heart started to beat wildly.

Although, why didn’t Xia Yan make it clear with me?

⊳ Out of caution ⊳ Because I didn’t give a response

MC: (Speaking of which, there’s often a lot online about long-time friends who are too scared to confess.)

MC: (They were afraid that if the romance failed, they’d lose an important friend.)

MC: (Xia Yan… probably also wanted to be cautious, so he didn’t say anything.)

MC: (If I do a little something, would he… understand?)

⊳ Out of caution ⊳ Because I didn’t give a response

MC: (If I think about it carefully, I think I’ve done a lot of low-EQ stuff…)

MC: (It’s all my fault…)

MC: (I should be able to make changes in time right now… what should I do to get Xia Yan to understand my emotions?)

I was just in the middle of my messy thoughts when I heard Xia Yan’s light voice.

Xia Yan: Alright, it’s off!

Xia Yan: Great Lawyer, hurry and inspect it to see if it’s perfectly fine.

MC: Absolutely perfect! Great Detective Xia, you’re way too amazing!

MC: (Either way… since I’m living at Xia Yan’s house now, I’ve got lots of time to figure something out.)

Xia Yan: What’s the matter? You seem a little absentminded.

MC: Not at all, just wondering about what we should eat for breakfast.

Xia Yan: I know several decent breakfast restaurants. Let’s go, I’ll take you over to try them!

#Tears of Themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #未定事件簿 #luke pearce #a steel tree has bloomed #yang xiao is cackling rn #this part is a heap of sugar #to balance out everything to come #can you two just get married already

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talesfromlissom · 3 years ago

Note

A-z sfw for lucio! please ! there is such little content for him!

you're right about Lucio having not alot of content. He's on of my favorite healers, despite the fact that I cannot play him for the life of me without being a heal bot lol

A (Affection) - How affectionate are they? How affectionate are you? When do you guys show affection mainly? He’s extremely affectionate. His hands are all over you whenever they can be. Hugs and soft kisses on your cheeks and forehead are a norm, and something to be expected every time you two see each other. You on the other hand tend to keep your PDA on the downlow. Your affection is mainly reserved for private times. You’re a member of Overwatch, and although he worked with Overwatch once, he’s still technically regarded as a civilian.

B (Breakups) - If they were to break up with you how would they do it? What would their reasons be? He’d probably break up with you by flat out telling you. However, if you did something drastic like cheat on him, he’d write a song about it. Lucio doesn’t like to think about breaking up with you, but his reasons would probably be because you two don’t see eachother often, or because you’re keeping too many secrets from him. You on the other hand, wouldn’t dream of breaking up with Lucio. Although if you had too, you’d probably do it because he’d be safer if you two weren’t together.

C (Cooking) - Who does the cooking? Who's the worst cook? Surprisingly, Lucio does the most cooking. His apartment isn’t very big, unlike most people who think he owns a big one. He actually has a few friends who made it seem like he lives in a mansion, but in reality he lives in a small apartment in Rio that he enjoys very much. You’re the worst cook. You’ve burnt noodles, caught the kitchen on fire more than once. Lucio has refused to let you into the kitchen unless your taste testing.

D (Driver) - Who's the best driver? The getaway driver? You’re the best driver, Lucio didn’t own a car when he was younger. You’re also the getaway driver because of various reasons.

E (Encounter) - How did you two first meet? You two first met when Lucio called for Overwatch during an Null Sector attack. You didn’t travel with the original team, but you had told Winston that you’d meet up with them. You stayed behind on the ship when the ramp was destroyed. Using your teleportation abilities, you and Lucio got out safely.

F (First Kiss) - When was their first kiss? What was it like? Where was it? Surprisingly, you guys didn’t have the usual ‘first kiss’ and then started dating. It was backwards. But it was a date you two went on.

G (Giggle) - How do they laugh? How do you laugh? How do you make eachother laugh? Lucio’s laugh tends to be very loud and genuine. He laughs at alot of things. There was one instance that includes chocolate cake batter and whenever he sees a chocolate cake, or chocolate in general he loses it.

H (Hobbies) - What kind of hobbies do you two do together? You two like music. Lucio makes music, and as you used to be a music teacher, you listen to his tracks and help him improve them. Otherwise, the two of you enjoy going out and playing soccer with the local kids.

I (I Love You) - How often do they say 'ILY'? When was the first time they said it? You two say you love each other quite often. It’s more along the lines of saying ‘I love you’ between playful kisses. But the more genuine ones are said behind closed doors. The first time he said it was when you two went on a mission and had to lay low in a motel room. The lights flickering above you, with you bleeding out before him. He was certain you wouldn’t survive as his tech had stopped working about an hour ago. He said it in a spur of the moment, afraid of you dying.

J (Jokester) - Do you pull pranks on each other? How many inside jokes do you two have? How playful is your relationship? You two pull pranks on eachother pretty often. But they’re not really ‘pranks’ its more like, ‘ha ha. You know how I said I was going to the store to get fruit? Well jokes on you I got fruit, and your favorite ice cream. #epicprank’. You two have alot of inside jokes, as your relationship tends to be pretty playful. Most of them last for a month or two before they aren’t that funny anymore. Minus the chocolate cake joke, that will probably last until you’re old.

K (Kiss) - How do you two kiss? It varies, some are short. Others are breathy.

L (Little Ones) - How are they around children? Do they want children? How many? Names? Lucio is great around children, young or old. He isn’t sure if he wants kids; however, he already gets stressed with how much publicity he gets from being a DJ, and how difficult it is for him to see you without cameras in his face. If he were to have children, he’d probably have 2. As for names he doesn’t care.

M (Mornings) - How are they in the morning? He’s almost like a lazy cat. You can tell he’s awake because he turns to place his forehead against your chest, or your own. This little fiend refuses to wake up by himself, so he will poke you until you wake up.

N (Nights) How are they at night? He absolutely crashes at night. He steals all the blankets, your shirts, and hoodies are convinstated, even if you’re wearing them he somehow manages to convince you to take them off. He goes to bed earlier than you most of the time, as he prides himself with having a good sleeping schedule. He sprawls out like a cat in the sun until you move him around so you have at least some of the bed to sleep on.

O (Oh The Names) - Any nicknames? Pet names? You don’t have any nicknames for him other than ‘Lu’, but Lucio is the exact opposite. He has pet names that range from american ones like babe, and honey. Other times he uses xuxuzinho (sweet pumpkin), or coração (heart), which seem to stick the most.

Q (Query) How much do they remember about you? Is it the little things, like your favorite flavor of ice cream? Or is it big things like important holidays for you or dates? He remembers everything about you. Your favorite tea brand, types of music, ideal dates, etc. Everything. He has it written down somewhere, because he does tend to forget most of it due to his busy job and constantly on the go lifestyle.

R (Remember Me) - What's their favorite memory of you? His favorite memory is when he came home early and found you dancing in the house, vacuuming and pretending to sing to a song. It was one of his songs as well, and he started singing along and laughed when your faced flushed so red.

S (Strengths) - What's the strongest part of your relationship? The strongest part of your relationship is your dedication to eachother. It doesn’t matter where you two are, even if you end up breaking up with each other, you’d still have each other's back through thick and thin.

T (Tall) - How tall are they compared to you, or how short are they compared to you? God, Lucio is so much smaller than you, only at 5’’3, versus your whopping 6’’0. It’s great.

U (Unity) How do they feel about PDA? What is their main type of love language? What's yours? Lucio loves PDA. It makes him laugh when he makes people uncomfortable because of it. Lucio’s main type of love language would probably be words of affirmation, and quality time. Your’s is gift giving and acts of service.

V (Vanity) - How concerned are they about their looks? How concerned are they about yours? Lucio is only slightly concerned about his looks. He’s constantly in the eye of the public. He’s slightly concerned about yours as well, don’t take it as wrong, but he just wants you to look nice. Despite the fact that you look good in everything….and nothing.

W (Weaknesses) - What is the weakest point in your relationship? You being in Overwatch, and him being a civilian technically. As Overwatch is becoming larger and more involved in government similar to the way it was before, you cannot tell him everything about Overwatch. He gets angry at first, but understands, if Talon or other organizations find out about him knowing secrets about Overwatch, he could be in alot more danger than he’s ever known. Needless to say, that anger returns when he knows that he can handle himself and broke into an omnic ship and survives.

X (Xtra) - An extra headcanon. Lucio loves the piano. It’s much softer sounding than some of his more popular tracks that he is recognized for.

Y (Yucky) - What is the one thing they don't like about you? As stated before, he doesn’t like how secretive you can be when it comes to your job, and how you’re gone for a long time. Sometimes he can’t even contact you during that time.

Z (Zaney) - How do they act when they're drunk around you? The reckless drunk. Lucio is very smart and is able to come up with plans on the dot. The thing is, he often goes through this plan multiple times to make sure there’s no flaws in it. When he’s drunk however, that second step is completely skipped, so you end up with all these crazy shenanigans he tries to pull. Thankfully, he’s easy to convince not to do them.

#lucio correia dos santos #lucio x reader

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years ago

Text

Just For A Week

WARNINGS: Swearing, partial smut (Maybe but like not really but also like just gonna but it in for Tumblr’s algorithm), drinking

Summary: Seungmin and Y/n have been friends for years. Their schedules finally coincide and they decide to take a vacation for a week. However, it is a little too expensive for both of their wallets. Y/n finds a discount that is just perfect for them. The only thing is that they have to pretend to be married.

Genre: Romance, friends to lovers!au, fake marriage!au

“Are you serious??” I screamed into the phone. Hearing his laugh on the other end made me smile even wider. “Yeah! I’m off schedule all of next week.”

Seungmin was always busy as of late. There was always some variety show, practice, or tour that kept him occupied. I hadn’t seen my best friend in what felt like forever. My apartment didn’t feel normal if Seungmin wasn’t in it and rearranging my things constantly.

“We have to do something. This is never going to happen again.” I could hear him pulling out his laptop and his fingers tapping on the keys. “Let’s go on a trip. Just us. Like when we were younger!” My mind flashed back to Seungmin’s trainee days where we would get on a random train with $200 and spend a weekend somewhere fun and new.

“I’m down.” Seungmin tapped some more and listed locations all around Korea. “I’d rather go to the beach, especially while it’s warm out.” He hummed in response and looked some more. “What about Jeju? There is a resort right on the beach. They have one room left…and two beds! Also, they are offering a discount!”

“Seungmin book the damn room before someone else does!” I said with a laugh. “And done!” Both of us cheered over the phone. We made plans and bought plane tickets for two days from now. It had been so long since I had seen Seungmin. We still texted a lot and there was the occasional facetime, but I still missed him. Even with all his quirks and weird slightly annoying antics. Happily, I threw clothes and swimsuits into my suitcase and begin to fantasize about my upcoming vacation with my best friend.

The plane ride was uneventful. Seungmin and I met at the airport and a great reunion was made. We both slept on the plane and when we landed in Jeju, we immediately rented a car to take us to the hotel. Seungmin drove us to the beautiful resort and parked in the circular driveway as hotel staff came and retrieved out bags. As I stepped out of the car the sundress I was wearing blew slightly in the wind. Seungmin thanked the attendants and walked over to me with a smile. “A little swankier than our normal adventures isn’t it?” I joked as we walked inside.

The woman and the desk greeted us with a smile. “Hello, welcome to our wonderful hotel! Are you checking in?” Seungmin nodded and replied, “ Yes, the room should be under Kim Seungmin.” She tapped on her computer and a bright smile lifted her already high cheeks. “Wonderful. Here is your key card and congratulations you two!”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean ‘congratulations’?” I asked. Seungmin looked confused as well. The woman’s smile faltered. “It says here your discount is for newlyweds. We are a very popular honeymoon destination. Was there a mistake-”

“No! Thank you. My wife and I were just wondering that’s all.” Seungmin said latching an arm around my shoulder. I gave her a hopefully not too fake-looking smile. “We also have many tourist attractions near the campus perfect for young couples. Would you like a brochure for LoveIsland?”

“NO!” “NO!”

We both exclaimed a little too loud. The lady looked shocked and very confused but slowly pulled the brochure back from on top of the counter. I cleared my throat and placed a hand on Seungmin’s chest. “What we mean is, we already have the planned itinerary the hotel sent and we really just want some time to relax in our room.” A small smile quirked up at the edge of her lips and I instantly regretted my choice of words. “Well, we hope you enjoy your stay. Dinner is served at eight. Please do not hesitate to ask us for anything at all. Your bags will be brought shortly.”

Once Seungmin and I were a safe distance down the hall from the lobby our facade dropped. “What the hell, Seungmin?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know! All I saw were the words discount!” I stared at him in disbelief. “Why did you agree with her? We are not married. That’s lying! This might be fraud!”

“Y/n have you seen how expensive this place is? This gets us a discount on literally everything! Why can’t we just pretend for a week?” Seungmin stood in front of our door fiddling with the card. Just as the words left his mouth a couple maybe a year or two older than us walked out of the room next door. A snarky smirk latched itself onto the beautiful girl’s face as she clung to her husband’s arm.

“Oh, trouble in paradise already?” She said in a silky smooth voice. “Hope the rest of your honeymoon goes better.” The man said. He looked like he came straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. With just a quick glance between each other, we had already agreed that these two were agreeably the worst people on the entire planet with huge sticks up their asses. Instantly I latched myself onto Seungmin’s arm and laid my head on his shoulder.

“Don’t mind us. If we are too loud by the way, just knock on the door. We’ll try to keep it down, but no promises.” Seungmin said with a new air of confidence as he laced his fingers with mine. A shocked look plastered itself onto the couple’s face. “The same goes for you too. We can also get pretty loud, so just knock.” With that, the man and woman strutted down the hall and towards the pool.

“Okay, now we have to sell this,” I said with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know why but I really want to kick their ass,” Seungmin said through gritted teeth as he still stared down the hallway. “I know right! We are a fake couple and we are totally already less fake than them. And better too!” “And better too!” Seungmin said in agreement as he opened the door to our hotel room. I froze at the sight.

“Why is there one bed?” Seungmin asked as he tossed his stuff onto the couch.

“I thought you said there were two beds?”

“Yeah, it said double beds!” I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried not to scream.

“Min, did it say double beds…or a double bed?”

“A double bed. What’s the difference?”

“Seungmin a double bed means that it is one bed! A bed that is double the size of a normal bed!”

He looked at the bed in defeat. “Shit.” I sat down, the white comforter soft against my bare legs. “It’s fine we can share the bed.” The words came out more like a sigh. There was a silence that fell over the room. After a moment, I couldn’t help but laugh. Then Seungmin started laughing too. “This is a great way to start our vacation, isn’t?” I said through soft laughter. “Definitely will be memorable.”

I sighed and kicked off my shoes. “I’m gonna shower. Do you want to go swimming after?” With a smile, I nodded and grabbed my phone from my purse. Seungmin closed the door of the bathroom and I saw the light turn on from under the door. I walked over to the nightstand to plug in my phone until I realized I forgot my charger. Remembering some hotels put chargers in the drawers I opened it only to let out a scream a the contents.

Seungmin burst through the bathroom door and ran to me on the other side of the bed. “What? What’s wrong?” I laughed and pointed to the drawer. “Sorry, it just shocked me.” Seungmin pulled open the drawer further to reveal an entire string of condoms branded with the hotel’s name as well as a bottle of lube and ironically a bible. “That’s funny in a twisted sort of way,” Seungmin said with a chuckle.

A blush rushed to my cheeks when I realized in his hurry to make sure I was okay, Seungmin didn’t put his shirt back on and only stood bare-chested in his jeans. I had always known Seungmin was attractive, it was kind of a requirement for being an idol. But, it was astonishing and ironic that I was just now noticing the fact as he was standing in front of me- shirtless- and holding a string of condoms.

Maybe it was just the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid since the beginning of university? Yeah. That made sense. Seungmin returned to his shower and I started unpacking. We spent the afternoon playing in the pool and relaxing on the pool deck. It was so nice to catch up with Seungmin and hear what he had been doing. Seungmin had called ahead and confirmed it was a private property and no press would be allowed on campus.

“Okay, so what does our fake honeymoon package get us?” I asked flipping over onto my stomach so the sun could reach my back. Seungmin lounged on the beach chair next to me, his brown hair blowing slightly in the breeze. He pulled out his phone to answer my question.

“We get a dinner experience with all the rest of the couples, several planned activities, spa package, and we have tickets to the Jeju music festival at the end of the week.” Seungmin scrolled more on his phone, reading something else on the hotel website. A young waiter came by carrying a tray of drinks. “Would you like one, beautiful?” He said leaning down and giving me a wink. My cheeks started to heat up as I gratefully took one of the Mai Tais.

“Hey, chill. That’s my wife you’re flirting with!” Seungmin said standing up in front of the waiter. I tried to hide my shock at his reaction. “Sorry, dude! I didn’t see a ring. My bad!” The ring! Oh my god, we were so stupid. “Oh- I left it in the room, babe. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to lose it.” I interjected quickly, hoping to distract from the fact that Seungmin and I had no actual explanation for not wearing wedding bands.

The waiter stared as I wrapped my arm around Seungmin’s waist, drink in my other hand. “I apologize,” He said before walking off. Just when we thought we were out of the woods, “What was that commotion all about?” Walking up-of course looking like she came out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog- was the woman from before, her husband trailing behind. “Oh, it was nothing! I left my ring on the nightstand so I wouldn’t lose it-” “And the cabana boy over there just started hitting on her. I took care of it. Seungmin wrapped his arms around my waist and moved behind me.

The lady scoffed before holding up her hand. “I would never take off my ring! It’s too precious.” She said smiling at her husband next to her. Her ring was huge and sparkled in the light. It had to cost at least $10,000. The woman herself was drowning in designer and expensive products. I mean she was wearing heels at the god damn swimming pool.

“I don’t think we have been properly introduced. My name is Kwon Si Hyun and this is my wife, Jin Ae.” She waved politely but that arrogant smirk was still stuck on bother her and her spouse’s face. The sight of it just made me want to smack her. Instead, I put on my nicest smile and my hand found Seungmin’s cheek resting on my shoulder.

“I’m Y/n and this is my amazing husband, Kim Seungmin.” Seungmin smiled, but I could see he was just as disgusted as I was. “Kim Seungmin? Why is that so familiar?” The man asked shaking his head. Jin Ae’s face lit up. “Yah! You are an idol! From that group Stray something!” Seungmin’s grip tightened and he tried to hide his annoyance. “Yeah, Stray Kids.”

She playfully smacked her husband’s broad chest. “I knew we should come back here! They are always saying celebrities stay here!” She eyed Seungmin up and down and instantly I felt very angry. “Yeah! Minnie is great! He is just so busy all the time so I am left by myself so much.” I turned around to face Seungmin and took his face in my hands. He glanced over at Si Hyun and Jin Ae briefly before smiling back at me.

“I know how that is! Running my company can be time-consuming, that’s why I take Jin Ae out so much like this.” Si Hyun gave her a playful smack on the ass before kissing her cheek making her squeal. Slowly Seungmin and I inched apart. Jin Ae grabbed my hands. “Kim Y/n, we should play while our husbands talk about business!” Before I could object she dragged me off to the other side of the pool towards the hot tub. I gave Seungmin a sorry look over my shoulder as I watched Si Hyun clap him on the back and hand him a beer.

Two hours later I slammed open the door of our hotel room. Seungmin let out a gasp from where he lay on the bed, dropping his phone. “Hey! Don’t scare me like that.” Seungmin had changed into jeans and a shirt and was playing on his phone, while I was standing cold in my bikini from sitting in the pool for hours.

“I hate her.”

“I hate him.”

“I want to smack that fake tan and boob job right off her.”

“Be careful they’re right next door!” Seungmin said with a laugh. He tossed me a towel from the counter. Quickly drying off, I sat on the edge of the chair. “We need rings if we are gonna pull this off.” He nodded from the bed. “All Jin Ae would talk about was how she and I would make such great friends and how we should meet up and drink daiquiris when we get back to Seoul. She’ll take me shopping because my swimsuit is just so last season.” I said mocking her high pitched voice.

I turned and walked to the dresser. I didn’t notice the way Seungmin’s eyes followed me as if just now realizing I was standing before him in a bikini and water still on my skin. “Okay well, I could find a pawn shop near here and get some rings?” I nodded pulling out a dress to wear for dinner. “If you leave now you have just enough time to make it back and change for dinner.” He shrugged. “What’s so important about dinner?”

“Another happy coincidence, “ I said dryly pulling some heels out of my bag- a pair that I had wanted to hopefully go clubbing in. “Jin Ae asked around and managed to get us switched to her table…for the rest of the week. apparently, we are now their partner couple. You know all those awesome activities. Thanks to that bitch we are doing it with them!” I said throwing the towel onto the bed.

Seungmin walked over and took my hand. “Hey. We can still have fun okay? Anywhere I am with you I’ll have fun.” He looked at me sincerely and pulled me into a hug. “You’re the best, Min.” With a sigh, he pulled away and grabbed his keys and wallet. “Okay. I’m off to get us wedding rings! Wow. I never thought I’d say those words.” He laughed and exited the room leaving me an hour to get ready for dinner with the dreaded Kwons.

Dressed in a nice white dress that hugged my curves and my favorite pair of blue pumps I played with my earrings waiting for Seungmin in the lobby. He ran up to me, hair styled and his shirt was switched our for a dress shirt he had half-tucked. I couldn’t deny the fact he looked good. He eyed me up and down before handing me something.

Opening my hand revealed a beautiful silver diamond ring. “Seungmin! This must have cost a fortune!” My eyes went wide as I tried to keep my voice down. I watched as Seungmin slipped a matching silver band onto his left hand. Seungmin smiled. “No, it’s okay! Think of it as a gift.” Seungmin took the ring from you and gently pushed it onto your ring finger on your left hand.

“So, better half, you ready for an excruciatingly long dinner?” Seungmin said with a laugh, offering me his arm. “Only for you.” Together we ventured outside to the huge outdoor restaurant. The ceiling was covered with vines, plants, and dangling lanterns. The hostess greeted us with a bright smile. One that seemingly everyone in the hospitality industry had. Did they have a class for it or something?

“Name?”

“Kim? Kim Seungmin.”

“Ah right here! If you and your wife would follow me this way to your table for the week.”

Grabbing two menus, she led us through the beautiful restaurant and to our table in the middle of the floor. Not surprisingly, Kwon Si Hyun and Kwon Jin Ae were already seated and sipping on wine. “Don’t forget to smile,” Seungmin whispered through clenched teeth. Nodding I put on the absolute nicest smile I could manage and waved to Jin Ae. Seungmin sat beside me and next to Si Hyun. The minute I sat down Jin Ae pulled my hand to look at my ring.

“Yah Kim Seungmin! You have such classy taste. Maybe a little understated compared to mine, but who could compare to me!” She said with a snobby laugh. Seungmin took my other hand and laced his fingers with mine atop the table. Maybe it was the drive to prove we were better than this snobbish egotistical couple, but things like this with Seungmin were starting to become more natural and it made me wonder.

“Y/n is the only pretty one in my eyes,” Seungmin said looking at me. “Seungmin-ssi! Don’t you think I am pretty enough to be an idol?” Jin Ae said in her annoying voice. I struggled to hide my disdain, instead choosing to drain the glass of wine in front of me.

Dinner was exhausting. Seungmin and I barely survived by glancing at each other as pretentious remarks were thrown back and forth between the other couple. After finally escaping their company Seungmin and I headed back to the room. “Oh my god, they are so terrible.”

Seungmin laughed and opened the door. “Why did we agree to go clubbing with them tomorrow night again?” I sighed kicking off my shoes and throwing them somewhere near my bag. “Because I like clubbing and not even she can ruin that.” “You sure?” I glared and he laughed happily. “This isn’t so bad. It honestly isn’t that different from how we usually act.” He said changing into nightclothes.

I shrugged thinking back on tonight. Did Seungmin really see no difference? Was I the only one who noticed? He hopped into bed and played on his phone while I changed. “I’m glad I’m on vacation with you though,” I said climbing onto the other side of the bed. “I missed you. I love the boys, but hanging our with you is different.” Why did that make my heart skip a beat?

“Yeah, you too.”

“Goodnight,”

Turning off the lights the both of us drifted off to sleep. The warm island breeze softly blew through the open window drifting over us like fairy dust. As if it was casting a spell over our eyes so that the next morning we would wake up seeing differently. Or at least one of us would.

Seungmin and I took breakfast in the room the next morning. Not even we could deal with the chaotic mess that was the Kwon’s first thing in the morning. We played in our room and lounged on the patio. To be honest we were hiding from Jin Ae and Si Hyun. Seungmin and I sat in PJs and simply talked the whole day, something we hadn’t done in a while. The boys called to check in and I joined in on the video call.

“Y/n! Jisung called out once my face appeared on the screen. I leaned over Seungmin’s shoulder to see all eight faces on his laptop. “Oh? Sungie? How are you guys?” Catching up with the boys was fun but I could see how Seungmin could easily get exhausted by them.

As night grew closer I actually began to grow excited about going out. “Seungmin, which should I wear?” I said holding up two dresses. A faux hunter green velvet dress and the white dress from last night. “You know you’ll never hear the end of it from Jin Ae if you wear the same dress twice.” I sighed knowing he was right. Slipping on the tight dress, I fiddled with some earrings before finally deciding on a pair. “Why do girls take so long to get ready? I swear you take longer than Hyunjin.”

“Really?”

“I take that back. No one takes longer than Hyunjin.”

Chuckling I finished applying some eyeliner and lip tint. “Whatever I wear Jin Ae will outshine me, so this will do.” I zipped up my shoes securing the three-inch chunky heeled boots to my feet. Seungmin looked me up and down his eyes widening slightly. “Don’t be silly you look great.” Seungmin stood in heavily ripped black jeans and a black button-down with some of the top buttons undone. He had rolled up his sleeves and for some reason, his ring was more noticeable. Maybe because I knew he never wore accessories.

Seungmin handed me my purse and grabbed his phone and wallet and then we headed to meet Jin Ae and Si Hyun at the club. Seungmin and I drove into the city and sang along to the music on the radio. We pulled up and heard the music from the club before even reaching the building. “Seungmin,” I said grabbing his arm, stopping him from exiting the car. “What?” I pulled open my bag and grabbed a piece of black fabric.

“We aren’t at the hotel anymore. Someone could see you.” I pulled him back and gently placed the mask over his face. He stared at me while I tucked the fabric behind his ears. “Thank you,” For some reason, he didn’t pull away. At first, I was confused, but I quickly grew comfortable with how he was looking at me. Just as he was about to speak my phone rang. Sighing he pulled away and let me answer my phone.

“Oh, Jin Ae?”

He looked over at me as we got out of the car and walked across the street to the club. “Yes, we are walking up now.” Aggressively pushing the end call button I turned to Seungmin. “She gave our name to the VIP bouncer, so we can just go in.” He nodded and walked up to the bouncer outside. “Name?” He said without looking up. “Here,” Seungmin said pulling out his driver’s license. The bouncer’s eyes went wide and he did a double-take. “Welcome, Mr. Kim! Please enjoy your night.”

I smiled feeling the vibrations of the music and the bright colored lights flashing throughout the room. “You want a beer?” I yelled over the music. He nodded and I left his side to walk up to the bar. “Two beers!” I yelled to the bartender. He nodded and went to the other side to get them. Suddenly I felt a hand grabbing my ass. “Hey!” I yelled turning around. My eyes widened to see a very attractive man behind me, a handsome smile on his face. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else, but what’s your name?”

He leaned against the bar and his hand brushed against my arm. Normally I would love this kind of attention from someone as hot as he was, but I could smell the alcohol on his breath and oddly my mind went back to Seungmin. “Listen, buddy. You can fuck off. I’m married.” I said holding up my hand and showing him the ring. He scoffed and took my hand. “Oh please! Girls these days are wearing rings like this all the time.” The bartender handed me my two beers, but the man stopped me from leaving.

“Come on, baby stay a while.”

“I told you, I’m married.”

“Really, where’s your husband? I don’t see him anywhere.”

Where was Seungmin? My eyes looked everywhere not seeing him. I tried to shrug off the guy’s grip but he wouldn’t let go. “Dude fuck off!” I yelled. “Come on, you lied about your husband! No one is even here!” He said getting too close for comfort.

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

The man turned around to see Seungmin, still wearing his mask. He honestly looked intimidating with his fists clenched and a glare piercing into the other man. “Really? You’re her husband? Man, your taste in men is shit. He can’t be.” Seungmin tugged me by the waist into his side. Before holding up his left hand. The man gulped as he looked at the silver ring glinting in the lights. He scoffed.

“Yeah, whatever. The bitch wasn’t that hot anyway.”

Seungmin took his beer and lifted his mask to take a swig. “Come on, we should meet up with Si Hyun.” Seungmin led me to the VIP lounge upstairs. His hand latched tightly onto mine, making sure I didn’t lose him in the crowd. The bouncer let us in and immediately Jin Ae waved to us from their table.

Obviously, the both of them had started drinking long before we got there. “Y/n-ah! You are my dongsaeng now! You must call me Unnie!” She said draping herself all over me. “Yeah, of course, Unnie.” She poured us a shot of whatever liquor was on the table and handed it to me. Seungmin talked with Si Hyun as Jin Ae pounded shot after shot. I drank but only enough to get a little buzz going.

“Hey, you two should do a love shot! Come on get the night started!” Si Hyun said with a bright grin. Jin Ae happily clapped along in agreement before pouring us two shots. “No, I’m driving tonight-” “Come on, Seungmin! Don’t be a downer!” Jin Ae whined. He looked at me briefly before picking up the shot. After linking arms, we were so much closer. Seungmin looked into my eyes before saying, “Cheers.” We both took the shot and heard loud cheers from the other couple.

“Si Hyun, come dance with me! Y/n, you should come too!” She said pulling Seungmin and me out of our seats and drastically changing the topic in her drunken state. Si Hyun followed happily as Jin Ae dragged us to the VIP dance floor. We dance for hours and had a few more drinks. Soon we ended up back in the booth, Jin Ae and Si Hyun sucking each other’s faces off like some creatures out of the movie Alien. Seungmin, sat next to me his arm lazily draped behind me over the back of the booth.

“Yah! We can’t be the only two kissing!” Si Hyun said suddenly, his words slurring. “Seungmin, kiss your woman. Show her you love her!” He let out a nervous laugh. “Hyung, we don’t normally do that type of stuff.” Jin Ae whined in her annoying voice. “What?! You don’t kiss?”

“No! What he means is, we don’t usually kiss in public. We can get carried away to easily.” I interjected. They seemed content with my answer. “I certainly know what you mean there!” Her lips captured Si Hyun’s in a sloppy kiss, causing both Seungmin and me to cringe and roll our eyes. “Still! We are all friends here! No one cares if you get carried away! Fuck on the couch for all we care!” Jin Ae said over the music.

The two of them looked at us expectantly, waiting for us to do as asked. Fuck, I couldn’t think of a way out. Seungmin desperately glanced at me, hoping I would think of something he hadn’t but I came up empty. “Fine, you want to see us kiss so badly?” Seungmin asked. I’m sure they couldn’t tell over the blaring bass but I heard Min’s voice shake as his arm came down to rest on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him so that our sides were pressed together.

“Yes! Do it! I’m eager to see this uncontrollable passion Y/n says you have!” Jin Ae said wiggling her perfectly plucked eyebrows. God damn it. Why did I have to say that? Seungmin turned to me already a very short distance away. Gently I pulled down his mask revealing his face fully. His left hand came up to my cheek and he looked into my eyes. There was almost a silent question he was asking. It was one of the things I loved about Seungmin- that we could have entire conversations with just a simple look.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw him move closer. Our eyes met briefly before I looked down at his lips. Why wasn’t he making the move? If he didn’t do it soon they might suspect something? Growing impatient, I closed my eyes and smashed my lips onto his closing the tiny distance. Seungmin hesitated to kiss me back but soon he took control. His hand slid down my body to rest on my thigh. The touch sent shivers down my spine. As he kissed me again he pulled part of my leg closer to him, pulling me almost into his lap.

I had never thought kissing Seungmin would be like this. I had never thought about kissing Seungmin. His grip tightened on my thigh as he continued to press rough kisses on my lips. instinctively, my hand went to his jaw and traveled into his hair. He smiled against my lips and his thumb rubbed across the bare skin of my leg. His teeth snagged my bottom lip, pulling at it gently and muffled sound escaped my throat bringing me back to reality. I pulled away out of breath and looked at Seungmin.

We had crossed a line. A sort of invisible line there was in every friendship between a boy and a girl. Kissing to convince them was one thing, but something felt different now about the way Seungmin was looking at me. “Y/n,” I turned to find once again Si Hyun and Jin Ae making out with full force. “Really? Are they that horny and self-obsessed?” I said sighing. I didn’t even worry about them hearing me.

By the time it was three a.m, all four of us were slightly stumbling to our rooms- some more than others. Seungmin had an arm thrown casually over my shoulder and we watched as Si Hyun raced down the hall with a squealing Jin Ae on his back. I rolled my eyes and looked at Seungmin who scoffed. It always seemed like they were putting on a show for someone.

“YAH! DONGSAENG!” Jin Ae screamed. “Unnie, be quiet! There are people sleeping!” I said putting on another fake smile, but she was too drunk to notice. “Shhhh! I expect you to fuck him good tonight! Right? Give your husband what he deserves!” She slurred. “I’m sure it won’t be as good as how well I’m going to fuck my Si Hyun, but do well!” She hung off of her husband like a wet curtain smiling with a crazy look in her eyes as she began to kiss all along the side of his neck.

“Seungmin! You use protection! You and me…we can’t have kids with our careers too early.” With one last clap on the shoulder, Si Hyun opened their door and they disappeared within the room. We walked into our room only to be met with a loud bang against our wall followed by some very lewd sounds. “Holy shit! Are our walls really that thin?” Seungmin quickly put a hand to my lips keeping me quiet. “What?” I mouthed to him. “They’re showing off! They are trying to prove they are better than us at you know….” He whispered.

“Fuck them. We can’t let them think that!”

“Are you really suggesting we-”

“Seungmin!”

“Sorry, that’s what you were implying.”

I scoffed as Jin Ae loudly and dramatically called out Si Hyun’s name. “What should we do? They are probably listening.” Seungmin whispered. Suddenly an idea popped into my head. I walked closer to the wall and as loudly as I could manage I let out a strangled moan. “Ahhh Seungmin!” I looked over to see Seungmin frozen in place. A crimson blush flooded his cheeks and ears. The sight was almost as cute as it was funny.

“Wha- what ar- what are you doing?”

“Shhh! Just follow my lead.”

He jumped as my hands pulled at the hem of his shirt. “Shhh Just trust me!” I said with a laugh. He let me pull the shirt over his head and push him over to the bed. Loud and overdramatic sounds were still coming from the room next to us. “Okay now grunt, really loud.”

The sound he made sounded more like he was constipated and I did my best to hold back my laughter as I sat next to him on the bed. “No, like grunt, moan, sex noises. Come on!” He tried again but only slightly improved. “Come on Seungmin we have to make this convincing!” My hand flew across his cheek and he screamed in shock. I shoved Min’s shirt into his open mouth muffling the sound making it sound more like a moan. “See more like that!”

“Ahhh Seungmin! Again!” I moaned. Seungmin arched a brow and took the shirt out of his mouth. “Shit, Y/n! Just like that!” He groaned loudly, a bright smile on his face as he tried not to laugh at the situation. “Oh fuck!” I whined, making Seungmin fall back onto the bed trying to keep in his laughter. “Quick get up on the bed!” I whispered. Seungmin stood on the bed with me and looked to me for what to do next. “Okay jump!” Both of us started jumping causing the headboard to bang against the wall.

“Oh fuck! Harder, Min!” I screamed. I started jumping closer to the head of the bead so the sound would be louder. The sounds from their room started to dwindle until suddenly there was a loud combination of moans and strung together curse words. “Come on Seungmin we can last longer than that!” I whispered. “God-Y/n!” He moaned again, the sound becoming more natural.

“Seungmin! Fuck I’m so close!” The two of you laughed as you continued to jump on the bed faster. I let out a strangled set of moans before a loud and high pitched whine at the end that could almost be a scream. “Keep jumping!” I whispered. He nodded and continued to groan and string together some dirty talk I didn’t know he had in him.

“Fuck, you take me so well! Ahh!” I couldn’t help but giggle interrupting the moan I was previously imitating. Seungmin pressed a finger to his lips with a smile. “Okay, big finale. Just trust me, okay.” Seungmin nodded with a grin as he continued to jump. I stopped jumping and caught my breath. This was almost as much of a workout as actual sex. To seal the deal I gave Seungmin a hard and swift kick to the balls sending him crumpling over and letting out the perfect groan that to any ear would sound perfectly convincing.

I joined him in letting out another strangled moan. Seungmin lay on the bed, his hands between his legs. “I fucking hate you,” Seungmin whispered his voice considerably higher. “You love me,” Rushing over to the mini-fridge I grabbed a cold bottle of Coke and handed it to Seungmin who immediately placed it against his crotch.

“If it helps, it sounded very convincing,” I said with a laugh. Seungmin glared at me from his spot on the bed. “Oh wait!” I said sitting up and grabbing Seungmin’s hand. “Pinch me!” I said. He pinched me very hard on the wrist. “Ah! Not there, you idiot!” Bringing his had up to my neck he nodded. He pinched the skin on my neck hard. “Again.”

His hand moved lower to just below my collar bone and he pinched hard there as well. I rushed to the bathroom and checked the marks. They were red, but not as convincing as the real deal. You could tell when you had a hickey. This didn’t look like one. With an aggravated sigh, I returned to the bedroom and pushed Seungmin onto his back. “Hold still. Mine don’t look real.” Seungmin froze in shock as I leaned over and pressed my lips to his neck, near his jaw.

“Okay either move your head, or I’m getting on top of you,” I said when Seungmin lay frozen looking up at me, his head unmovable from looking straight forward. Rolling my eyes, I threw my leg over his waist and leaned back over so I could finish making it look real. My teeth must have grazed over a sensitive spot because my movement froze when Seungmin let out a tiny low toned moan. Choosing to ignore it, I moved down to his collar bone and shoulder leaving a couple of marks there too.

I pulled away to see a blush covering Min’s ears. He simply looked at me, his lips parted slightly. It was then I noticed his hands and wandered to rest on my thighs. I don’t know what compelled me to say what I said next. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the leftover alcohol still circling my system.

“Now, you.”

“What?”

“Do you know how?”

His brows furrowed as he sat up. He was so close now that our noses softly bumped together. I couldn’t tell if he nodded, but Seungmin didn’t say anything. His stare flicked from my eyes to my lips before he leaned over and placed his lips just under my jaw. I could feel his teeth softly bite the skin there. A shiver went down my spine when I felt the cooling touch of his tongue soothe over the spot. My hands pressed against his bare chest as he moved to the other side of my neck. On instinct my body let my head roll back, giving his lips full access to my neck.

A shaky breath escaped my open lips as his hands moved from my thighs to wrap around my waist, one of them coming up and around to just below the base of my neck. “Seungmin,” I whispered as the bites became open mouth kisses all along my skin. He stopped and let his lips drag up to my jaw. It was like every fiber of my being was standing at attention, waiting for what he would do next.

I stared at him through hooded eyes, while his gaze never left my lips. After what seemed like an eternity his lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss. A sort of fog overtook my brain and my body went into autopilot. My hands moved to his neck and wrapped around him. Seungmin pushed me closer to his chest as his lips moved against mine.

The blaring of a telephone broke us apart. My head started to spin. In some sort of a daze himself, Seungmin picked up the phone. “Yes?” He listened to the speaker intently and then his face visibly changed. “What’s wrong?” I asked, finally finding the courage to speak. He ignored me and continued to listen to the person on the other line.

Without warning, he got up from under me and walked towards the patio, but didn’t leave the room. I watched Seungmin with tired eyes and a slightly drunk mind as the lean muscles in his back shifted with his movement. Shaking my head I tried to push through the alcohol’s effect.

“Okay, yes. Thank you.”

Seungmin turned back to you a stressed expression filling his face. “Min, what’s up?” He looked back over at me before sitting on the edge of the bed. “I can’t talk about it now.” Nodding I moved to give him more space. “Is there anything I can do?” He shook his head and laid back down on the bed.

“No. I just want to sleep.”

I stayed silent and got up from the bed. Going to each light I turned it off and then quickly changed for bed. When I returned Seungmin was already under the covers and staring up at the ceiling. I wanted so badly to reach out and comfort him, but clearly, he didn’t want that. I climbed into bed and turned away from him to give him space. Maybe he would tell me in the morning.

A morning breeze once again blew through our open patio door. I turned to find Seungmin gone from his side of the bed. My ears picked up on the sound of the shower running. Sitting up, I clutched my head cursing my past self for drinking so much. Tequila shots were not a good idea. Memories from last night slowly crept to the surface of my mind. We went to the club. Seungmin saved me from that douche bag. We drank with the Kwons. We….kissed.

We went back to the hotel. Jin Ae was a bitch. We had what could only be described as a fake sex-off. And Seungmin…kissed me. He kissed me. Like a real kiss. Not a fake one like at the club. That was a full on fucking make out session. I mean I was drunk. He was tipsy. It probably didn’t mean anything. Why did that thought disappoint me?

Looking over I saw a glass of water on the nightstand as well as a bottle of ibuprofen. Smiling a took the pills Seungmin left me and pulled my phone out to look at the time. The door opened and Min walked out in shorts and a hoodie before. “Morning,” I said. He looked over and nodded at me before sitting at the table with his laptop. “Thanks for the medicine.” He shrugged his shoulders and continued typing, but I swore I saw the tiniest smile.

“Looks like breakfast is in a couple minutes.” Seungmin nodded again and continued to look at his laptop with a serious expression. Getting up and grabbing clothes from my suitcase I went into the bathroom to change. Immediately, my eyes landed on my neck and I almost screamed. Scattered across either side were dark hickeys all down my neck.

“Hey, Seungmin!” I called out. “Yeah?” “Will you grab my concealer from my bag?” After some shuffling, Seungmin knocked on the door before entering. His eyes instantly went to my neck and stayed there while he handed me the makeup. “You’re covering them up? I though the whole point was to see them.” I turned back to the mirror just in time to miss Seungmin’s smirk as he looked at the dark marks he made all over your neck.

“I’m just gonna cover up this one.” He nodded and left the bathroom. I went about covering the biggest mark and then changing clothes before applying a little bit of makeup for the day. As I exited the bathroom Seungmin was getting off the phone with someone. “Y/n we need to talk.” Sitting on the bed, I nodded and looked back over to him. “Okay.”

“It’s about last night.”

I tried to hide the blush as the heat flooded every inch of my face. “What about last night?” I asked innocently. Just play dumb. I can always say April Fools if he asks me about it. Wait-fuck it’s not April.

“There was a picture of us taken last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah at the club.”

He tossed me his phone, a page already pulled up to a very popular gossip blog.The picture clear as day showed Seungmin and I making out in the booth. It also hand a close up of my hand which was on his jaw. The ring sparkled in the colored lights. The headline read: Stray Kids Main Vocalist, Kim Seungmin Spotted With His Secret Wife At Jeju Club.

Scrolling down I saw more pictures of the two of us. In the club. Walking out with Si Hyun and Jin Ae. Even Seungmin opening the car door for me. More articles popped up in the recommended. Titles like: Seungmin’s Hidden Marriage, Seungmin’s Mystery Girl, STAY’s Response to Seungmin’s Secret Marriage.

“Oh my god,” I looked up to see Seungmin had started to wander outside. Probably giving me time to process the situation. His ringtone sounded in the room making me jump. Looking down I saw the stupidest picture of Jisung.

“Hello,”

“Y/n? Have you heard what’s going on? Are you okay? Wait why do you have Seungmin’s phone?”

“He stepped out for a minute. Yes, I saw the articles.”

“ARE YOU ACTUALLY MARRIED TO SEUNGMIN?”

His voice was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. Rolling my eyes I brought the phone back to my ear. Running a hand through my hair I couldn’t help but chuckle at my friend.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s kind of complicated.”

“Man, Y/n. I thought you and I were endgame. Way to betray me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Jisung and I were close friends. Sure we flirted sometimes but we both knew getting together would be a terrible idea. For much the same reason that Seungmin and I were now in trouble.

“But, really are you and Seungmin married?”

“No.”

“But you’ve kissed him?”

“….yes….”

“And you have a ring?”

“…..yes…”

“What more to marriage is there?”

“Well for one thing legal documents, dumbass.”

His laugh could be heard probably even without the phone. “So, it’s not real?” “No,” I then started to explain everything that had happened to us in the past few days. Even the part about last night. “You kicked Seungmin in the balls!” Now hearing it out loud it was pretty funny.

“But, seriously. The…other stuff…Do you like Seungmin?” Did I like Seungmin? I watched as he stood on the patio. He looked really stressed. My thoughts drifted to last night and the last couple of days. Did I really like Seungmin? Friends definitely didn’t do what we did last night. And they certainly didn’t act like how we were acting. But, it was all because of the fake marriage right? All for a discount? But, then again. I didn’t have to say I was married to that guy in the club. And Seungmin could’ve let that guy hit on me if he wanted to.

“Are you dramatically rethinking the entirety of the last couple of days?”

“Shut up.”

“So, I’m taking that as a yes?”

Maybe Jisung was right. “I think so? Maybe… I don’t know. We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t really know if I can tell.” A sigh escaped my lips filling the empty room. Now my thoughts were running a a mile a minute through my head.

“Can I give you some advice?”

“Sure, why not.”

“If someone seriously wants to be a part of your life, they will seriously make an effort to be in it. No reasons. No excuses. Seungmin does that for you.”

The thought made me smile. Did Seungmin really care about me that much? Quickly I finished up the conversation and walked out onto the patio, joining Seungmin. “Jisung called.” He gave me a half assed smile before taking back his phone. “Come on. We should head to breakfast.”

Perhaps it was the conversation with his hyung, but I couldn’t help but notice Seungmin’s hand on my back as we walked back inside to leave. The staff all smiled at us as we made our way back out to the restaurant. As usual Si Hyun and Jin Ae were seated at the table. Seungmin took my hand without warning as we approached the table.

“Y/n! I had so much fun last night!” She said in her shrill voice. “Me too! I loved clubbing with you!” Seungmin tried not to laugh at how fake my voice sounded as we sat down. Lightly I elbowed his stomach and he regained his composure. He draped his arm behind my chair letting his fingers brush my arm when he saw the waiter from a few days ago walk up to our table.

“I’ll have a mimosa. My hangover is killing me.” Jin Ae said not even sparing the boy a second glance. Si Hyun ordered a black coffee and before I could speak, Seungmin ordered for me. “I’ll take an americano and she wants a chai latte with a glass of orange juice too.” Seungmin turned back to me with a surprised smile.

“You remember what I drink in the morning?”

“Of course.”

“That’s so sweet,”

He smiled and leaned in to place a kiss on my lips. It shocked me at first, since I had been the one to initiate our “fake kisses”. He chuckled when he pulled away, seeing my face. “Yah, dongsaeng. That’s quite the love bite on your neck.” Jin Ae said with a smirk clearly pointing at my neck.

“Yeah, we heard you guys last night. Didn’t know little Minnie was so rough in bed.” Si Hyun sent Seungmin a look and he scoffed before sipping on his water. “Ah, hyung. Let’s talk about something else.” He laughed and thanked the waiter as our drinks arrived. The conversation finally drifted away from last nights events and onto today’s schedule and ordering.

Breakfast was delicious despite the company. Seungmin and I did our best to ignore them and spend time with each other. That was what we came here for in the first place. Right? This time it was Seungmin who threw us under the Kwon bus when he absentmindedly agreed to accompany them to the beach for something called the Couple Comp.

The second we were out of eyesight I slapped his shoulder repeatedly making him laugh. “Hey! Stop!” “Seungmin what the fuck!”’ He laughed as he ran back to our hotel room with me right on his heels. “Why did you agree to go?” He opened the door and jumped back onto the bed. “Because I love the beach and you love kicking their ass. Well I also love kicking their ass, but I’m excited about the beach too.”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled a swimsuit out of my suitcase. “I thought we needed to figure out the whole photo thing.” Seungmin shrugged and pulled out his phone. “I called my manager this morning. We talked and figured something out. He said he will release a statement tonight after talking to the CEO.” Did they really fix things that quickly? I thought a scandal like this would be more….scandal-y?

“So you aren’t getting kicked out because of me?” Seungmin shook his head with a laugh. The biggest sigh of relief left my chest and I jumped on top of him giving him the biggest hug. He laughed and hugged me back. “Yah, come on. We can celebrate this later. We have pretentious asses to kick.”

“You’re completely correct. Let’s go.”

Quickly we changed and raced down to the beach. Seungmin signed us into the contest and returned with two matching purple Hawaiian style shirts. "They said each couple had to wear these." He handed me mine and tossed his white t-shirt off to the side with my stuff. He slipped his arms through the shirt and then helped me put on mine. "At least you back won't get burned now." He said laughing.

Hand in hand we walked over to Jin Ae who was sipping on a margarita. Si Hyun was next to her sporting the same yellow Hawaiian shirt as his wife. Surrounded by other couples in brightly colored shirts we waited near a stage for further instruction. Seungmin and I talked just like old times. We joked and laughed. He told me funny stories about the boys, making time fly by faster in his company.

By the time the MC stepped on stage, the sun was high in the sky and burning down on us. Seungmin stood behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, acting a sunshade for me with his shadow.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” The happy man said. “Are you guys ready to find out who the best couple is?” The crowd erupts into happy screams. Jin Ae blows my ear off next to me and Min cheers from behind me. “The first challenge we are going to do is for the men!” Everyone cheers once again as the MC starts to explain. The first competition was a relay race where the first twelve men moved on with their partners.

We all walked over to the course where the men lined up. Jin Ae gave her husband a huge smack on the lips. With a smirk he tossed her the yellow shirt revealing a very...very...very toned torso. The kind of torso that sent cartoon hearts popping out of my eyes and sirens playing in my head.

“Hey. You gonna wish me luck or not?” Seungmin said turning me to face him. There was a harsh look on his face and I noticed him shoot a glare at Si Hyun. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Good luck!” His face softened when he saw my bright smile. Without warning he kissed me, his hand dropping to my waist and his free hand tangling his fingers with mine.

My heart skipped a beat. Closing my eyes I kissed him back resting my palm on his chest. My head started spinning when I felt his teeth pull on my bottom lip before Seungmin pulled away and kissed my cheek. “Hold this?” All I could do was stare Seungmin in the eye, frozen, as he removed the purple shirt and put it in my hands.

Seungmin was slim but toned in all the right places. “Cheer for me, gorgeous?” He laughed at my frozen state and raised an eyebrow. “Y/n,” Shaking myself out of hot Seungmin world I nodded and smiled at him. He waved as he went to join the other guys.

The relay was really challenging. The boys were doing a really tough relay race that ended with them swimming out to a platform, grabbing a flag and then swimming back to shore. I screamed at the top of my lungs as Seungmin grabbed our purple flag. Si Hyun was only a few yards ahead of him. Jin Ae cheered as her husband crossed the finish line. Seungmin followed soon after, running up to me out of breath.

I wrapped my arms around him, not caring that he was still soaking wet. He gave a breathy sigh and weakly draped his arms around my waist. My fingers tangled in his hair and I held on tightly to his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t win.”

“No! I’m proud of you, Min! I’ll kick her ass in the next round.” The boys dried off and the next challenge began. The remaining twelve girls got up onstage with the MC as he announced the next challenge. “For our wonderful ladies we have a beauty contest!” Jin Ae cheered next to me along with the other girls. I saw Seungmin and Si Hyun cheer and move up towards the front of the stage.

The girls shed their shirts and begin parading around in their swimsuits for the judges. Seungmin gave me a thumbs up as I walked on stage in line with the other girls. I put on my biggest smile and tried not to think about the big ass omelette I had for breakfast. Of course Jin Ae was in front of me with her big boobs and freaking thigh gap.

The judges deliberated and announced there was a tie for the first slot. They told two of the girls they were eliminated and went through the lineup until they got to me and Jin Ae. “The judges have determined there is a tie between these to beautiful ladies!” Everyone cheered as the MC walked over to us with the mic. “What’s your name?” The man said eyeing Jin Ae up and down. She grabbed the mic and waved to the audience. “Hello! I am Kwon Jin Ae! This is my dongsaeng but don’t think I’m going to go easy on her!” She cheered happily giving me the side eye. The audience cheered and some of them pulled out their phones.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I’m L/-- uh Kim Y/n. She may be my unnie but I about to kick her ass.” Seungmin cheered and I waved to him before handing the mic back to the man. “Okay these ladies are each going to pick a song and the best performance based on the crowd’s reaction wins!” The crowd cheers and my eyes light up. All those nights dancing in my living room with Seungmin or my roommate would finally pay off.

“What is your song choice, Jin Ae?” She thinks about it and then finally says. “I want to do Devil by CLC!” The crowd cheers and pulls out their phones once more as the MC motions me off the stage so she can perform. Seungmin latches on to me immediately. The music starts and Seungmin turns to me with a big smile and says, “Y/n you’ve got this in the bag.” I grin and turn back to watching her performance. She doesn’t do terribly. She only forgets a couple moves but makes up for it by jumping around and winking at the judges. She finishes and the crowd claps and cheers. Seungmin kisses my cheek and then sends me back up on stage.

“How about that guys? What about you? You think you can do better than that?”

“Oh for sure. My husband would be disappointed in me if this is the challenge I failed at.”

“So, what song are you picking?”

“Um...Let’s do Lip & Hip by HyunA.”

The crowd cheers and the MC goes over to the stereos to queue up the song. The familiar tune comes on and I roll my hips like in the video and I hear the crowd go crazy. I just let my body do what it remembers and I focus on what Seungmin told me was the most important thing in a performance. Charisma.

I just channeled being Queen HyunA and strutted across that stage and danced like I was one of her back up dancers. I rapped along to the song and made sure to hit every beat. As the chorus hit I dropped and danced along. The crowd went crazy and I saw Seungmin cheering like crazy with wide eyes.

For the second chorus I didn’t have a partner so I just free styled and had fun with it. Seungmin cheered me on and filmed me on his phone. God, if only HyunA could see me fucking slaying this song. The last note played and I posed and smiled. The crowd cheered and Jin Ae joined me on stage a sway in her step.

“Wow! What a performance! Who votes for Jin Ae?” The MC takes Jin Ae’s hand and the crowd cheers making her grin and do that fake humility thing everyone hates. “Who thinks Y/n did the best?” He takes my hand and the crowd erupts in noise. Everyone is screaming and cheering for me and I can’t help but laugh and blush. “It’s pretty clear who the winner of this challenge is. Congratulations, Kim Y/n you and your husband have a guaranteed spot in the next challenge!” I cheer and Seungmin runs up on stage and spins me around before pressing his lips to mine.

I was too excited to even think about the fact that I kissed him back without hesitation. Everyone cheered and we moved on with the competition. Several challenges later it is just down to us and the mother fucking fake ass Kwons. The sun is setting and we have spent the entire day trying to prove that we are in fact the ultimate couple. How ironic.

The last challenge was called “How Well Do You Know Your Partner.” We went head to head answering questions about each other for points. They were ruthless. But we wanted it so bad. It was down to the final question. “Y/n. You are tied with the Kwons. If you get this question right, you and Seungmin win.”

I nodded clutching the whiteboard in my hands. Seungmin rested his hand on my knee next to me. A warm wind blew across the stage and the waves good be heard over the music they were playing.

“Y/n...What did Seungmin want to be as a kid?”

“Oh I know this.” Seungmin laughed at me and wrote his answer on his whiteboard. “Y/n, what is your answer?” I flipped my board and said, “Seungmin wanted to be a professional baseball player. A pitcher if you want to be specific.” The MC turns to Seungmin who flips his board to reveal his answer.

“WOW! That is correct! Congratulations, Kim Seungmin and Kim Y/n! You are the best couple at Jeju Island’s Luxury Resort!” They give us weird graphic tees and a huge gift certificate. At the corner of my eye I see Jin Ae glaring over at the two of us as the rest of the crowd cheers. “Congratulations again! Now we have bonfire party for everyone on the beach so go have fun!” Everyone heads over to the beach and starts swimming and partying as the sun goes down.

Seungmin and I wander off as the night goes on, beers in hand as we walk down the shoreline, firelight fading in the distance. “You know what I just realized?” He shook his head and took a swig from his bottle. “I haven’t checked my phone all day. I had so much fun just hanging out with you.” He laughed and slung an arm around my shoulder.

“Well, we are still trending if you were wondering.” I reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. “Why do guys’ swim trunks have pockets? That is so unfair.” Seungmin scoffed and looked at me as I put in his passcode. “Are you saying you could fit pockets in that tiny thing you’re wearing?”

“That is irrelevant I want pockets.”

He laughed and looked up at the night sky while I scrolled through Twitter. He was right, we were still trending. STAY and other fans were going crazy over the photos. Apparently a couple people from the crowd had posted the video of me winning the contest with Seungmin. I laughed and read a tweet a loud to Seungmin.

“Seungmin’s girl is a boss ass bitch look at her dancing to HyunA! JYP cast her NOW!” Seungmin laughed and turned to me, stopping our little stroll. “I’m tired, you wanna sit?” Nodding, I kept looking at the responses on Twitter. Seungmin sat next to me his hair blowing softly in the wind. I was very aware of him watching me and laughing at me reactions to the posts.

My brows furrow as I see a post from JYP Entertainment’s official page. I clicked on the post and read the statement.

Hello, this is JYP Entertainment.

We would like to address the rumors about one of our idols, Kim Seungmin from Stray Kids. We appreciate your patience and hope you will continue to support Seungmin and his members. Yes, Kim Seungmin is in a relationship. He is not married to the person shown in the photos taken by Dispatch, though.

We have been in contact with him while he is on his break. He has addressed this personally and would like to clarify that it is not a wedding ring, but a promise ring he gave as a gift. At this time we cannot release the name of the woman Kim Seungmin is seeing but we hope you can support Seungmin and his love for her.

“Seungmin, what is this?” He gently takes his phone back from me before reading the post. “It’s the statement addressing the rumors. Why?” Fully turning to Seungmin, I tried to read his expression in the dark. “Why? It says were dating. This could destroy your image! You could lose fans.”

He smirked and looked me up and down. “You haven’t said no.”

“What?”

“You haven’t said we aren’t dating.”

Blinking a few times, I just stared at him in the dark. Did he just say what I think he said? Did Seungmin....my best friend really just say that. That cocky little shit. He laughed at me and grabbed my hands, still holding the phone. “Seungmin, you prick! Is this your way of asking me out?” I said smacking his shoulder.

“You have to do it properly, you jerk!”

Laughing, he took his phone and slipped it back in his pocket. Giving me that signature smile of his that drove thousands of girls wild, including me, he took my hands in his and looked me in the eye.

“Hey, Y/n L/n, will you go out with me?”

“No.”

“What?”

“Sorry I was just in it for the discount.”

Seungmin stared at me. I saw real disappointment flash across his face and he started to let go of my hands. “I’m just kidding! Of course!” Seungmin let out the biggest sigh his hands covering his face. “Y/n!” He yelled falling on his back. “That was so cruel!” I couldn’t help but laugh and lean over him to see the look on his face. He moved his hands and looked up at me with a smile on his lips.

Reaching up he pulled me down to his lips. Seungmin smiled against my lips before he pulled away looking up at me. “Does this mean I can give you name to the press?” He asked, pushing a piece of hair away from my face. “Only if you take me to the next HyunA concert and I get to cuddle with you in bed tonight.”

“I guess to the first one and the second one is a definite. Duh.” Laughing, I leaned down and pressed another kiss to his lips. “Now we can really kick the Kwons’ ass in couple world.” Seungmin played with my fingers and chuckled. “Didn’t we do that just now?” “Yeah, well that didn’t count.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, you better take us back for Valentine’s Day so we can beat Jin Ae and Si Hyun to the ground.”

“Not cause you want to spend time with me?”

“.....yeah...that too!”

Hope you all enjoyed! I apologize if there were spelling errors!

Requests are open!

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