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dazevi · 22 days ago

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PROLOGUE: DREAMS

heart to heart series | vi x fem!reader

synopsis: on a quiet afternoon after school, your girlfriend wonders and imagines what the future might look like for the two of you.

content warnings: fluff, impending angst (yikes), established relationship, highschool!vi and reader, eventual 18+ nsfw content in later chapters so MDNI.

wc: 2,294

navigation | series masterlist | ko-fi

note: very excited to share this with u guys! i spent most of january writing the first three chapters—most of them (not including this one) run on for about 10k words!! i also kind of half proofread each chapter so there still might be a few grammar mistakes. but i hope you guys like it!! also lovely fanart by bunimint_ on ig!

YOU ALWAYS LOVED DAYS LIKE THIS.

Days when the late afternoon sun spilled through the open blinds of Vi’s bedroom, yellow rays stretching lazily across her hardwood floor, onto her posters scattered and stuck on the wall. It was just another weekday after school and you found yourself sitting cross-legged on her bed, the worn quilt beneath you with its faded patterns due to years of use. A paperback novel rested in your hands, its pages slightly dog-eared from where you’d paused and flipped back to reread sentences that caught your attention.

Your eyes traced the words, but your thoughts occasionally drifted to the girl sprawled out in front of you.

She was lying on her back, her head resting in your lap, legs dangling off the side of the bed, toes tapping softly to the beat in her head. Her electric guitar—a faded, black and white instrument scuffed and scratched in a few places—rested on her stomach. The amp cord dangled uselessly off the bed, unplugged and forgotten, but she didn’t really seem to mind. Her fingers danced over the strings, plucking out random chords and melodies.

She wasn’t really playing anything in particular, just experimenting, testing things out. Sometimes a particularly sweet combination of chords would make her pause, and she’d strum it again, smiling faintly to herself.

Every now and then, she tilted her head to glance up at you, her light blue eyes softening each time.

You could feel her gaze, even when you pretended not to notice, too focused on the paragraph in front of you. You always found it hard to concentrate with her so close. Her presence filled the room, as it always did. The faint smell of her shampoo mingled with the slightly metallic scent of the guitar strings. You could feel her warmth where her head pressed against your thighs, and her fingers—rough and calloused—moved so delicately now, brushing over the strings like they might break.

“You always look so serious when you read,” Vi murmured suddenly. Her lips curled into a lazy grin as she tilted her head further back, her pink hair splaying across your lap. “What’s this one about? Another tragic love story?”

You glanced down at her, unable to suppress the smile that found its way onto your lips.

“It’s just for class,” you said, holding up the book for her to see the title. “I don’t exactly have a choice.”

Vi squinted at the cover, scrunching her nose. “Is it any good?”

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shrug, running your fingers absentmindedly through her hair. She hummed in approval, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, like a little puppy basking in attention. “The writing’s good, at least. But you wouldn’t care—it’s not exactly your kind of story.”

“Oh, yeah?” Vi opened one eye, her smirk deepening. “What’s my kind of story, then?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart skipped a beat at the way she was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing.

“Something loud, fast, and reckless… full of action, I guess,” you teased. “Like you.”

“Fair enough,” she admitted with a smirk, plucking out a quick riff that sounded vaguely like a punk song you’d heard her play once before letting the guitar fall silent again. “But I think I’d make an exception for something you wrote.”

Your fingers froze in her hair, and you blinked down at her, startled. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. I like your writing. And… because it’d be you,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her voice was quiet now, and she lifted a hand to trace a lazy circle on the back of your knee. “You make everything interesting.”

You smiled again. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything at all as you brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead.

Vi didn’t seem to mind the silence.

She went back to her guitar, strumming softly, her eyes drifting closed. The sunlight caught the curve of her cheek and the faint freckles scattered across her nose, making her look softer than usual. She looked so at peace, so content in your presence.

You never forget moments like these. With her head in your lap, the soft plucks of her guitar, the sunlight wrapping around both of you—it was all so achingly perfect that you wished you could freeze time and stay here forever.

Vi’s fingers slowed on the strings, the melody she had been absentmindedly strumming fading into silence. She tilted her head back further into your lap, the corners of her lips pulling into the softest smile as she gazed up at you. Like she was trying to memorize the way the light danced on your skin, the way your soft lips moved faintly as you read under your breath.

“I love you,” she murmured too quietly.

You paused, caught off guard, and glanced down at her. “What?”

Vi didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she reached up, her calloused fingers brushing gently against yours. She intertwined her fingers with yours, guiding your hand away from her hair. Her touch was uncharacteristically delicate, and before you could say anything, she pressed a featherlight kiss to the back of your hand.

Her lips were warm, slightly chapped, but the kiss was so soft, so tender, that it sent a shiver up your spine. And she didn’t stop there. Slowly, she trailed kisses along your knuckles, your palm, and then your wrist, her breath warm against your skin.

“I was saying,” she whispered between kisses, her voice barely above a whisper. “That you look beautiful.”

Your breath hitched, and your free hand instinctively reached out to touch her face, brushing your thumb along her cheekbone. Vi leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“You’re making me lose my place,” you teased, though it was clear you didn’t mind.

Vi chuckled, and she finally opened her eyes, meeting your gaze.

“Good,” she said with a grin, her voice still carrying that teasing lilt. “I like having your attention on me.”

Her confession made your cheeks flush, and you tried to look away, but Vi wasn’t having it. She tugged on your hand gently, pulling it to her lips once more, kissing your wrist one last time before cradling it against her chest.

She played with your fingers absentmindedly, her calloused thumb brushing over your knuckles, tracing the delicate lines of your skin like it was something sacred. The room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the pages of your book and the muted sounds of life outside her window—a car passing through the neighborhood, a bird chirping in the distance.

You glanced down at her briefly. She seemed lost in thought, her thumb lingering on your ring finger as if it had found a home there. For a long moment, she said nothing, and you assumed she was simply daydreaming, unfocused on anything. But then, she spoke quietly, like the question wasn’t meant for anyone else—just for you.

“What’d you think we’d be doing in… I dunno, five—maybe ten years?”

The question caught you off guard, pulling you from the pages you’d been engrossed in. You marked your place in the book with a finger and looked down at her. Her gaze was fixed on your hand, her thumb still circling your ring finger, slow and soft. She hadn’t looked up yet, like she was too shy to meet your eyes after that question.

“Ten years?” you echoed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “That’s a long time from now, Vi.”

She finally tilted her head up to meet your gaze, her blue eyes searching yours.

“I know,” she said with a quiet laugh, though there was an unmistakable seriousness beneath her tone. “I just… I think about it sometimes, y’know? Like… where we’ll be. What we’ll be like. Together, I mean.”

Her voice dipped on the last word, almost hesitant, like she was afraid to hope too much.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, brushing your free hand through her soft pink hair. “After I graduate college, I guess I’d want to be writing somewhere—maybe a bookshop owner, too. That’d be nice, I think.”

Vi smiled faintly, the image of you surrounded by books bringing an warmth to her chest.

“That fits,” she murmured, her voice gentle. “You’d have this cute little shop, and you’d always smell like old pages and coffee… maybe you’ll play that old Al Green record I got for you in the background… with flowers your mom brought for you sitting in a tiny pot by the window…” She trailed off, her smile growing wistful.

“Mhm,” you smile, the picture she was painting in your head almost felt tangible. “Maybe, an apartment nearby. With big windows for the sun to come in… A cozy kitchen to cook in with plants everywhere… A study for me to write in…”

“Do I fit anywhere in there?”

“Oh, definitely.” It’s impossible to fight the smile on your face from growing wider, “All your things would be everywhere, because you never clean… Guitar racks in the corner and a keyboard somewhere in the living room…Maybe you’d wanna set up a small bedroom studio. Oh, and you’re definitely hanging a punching bag somewhere.”

Vi let out a soft laugh.

“We’d probably have that karaoke machine you like so much by the TV… or a jukebox… And we’d have mismatching mugs sitting next to each other on the kitchen counter. Oh, and definitely a bed bigger than this one, since you move around too much—”

You pause.

“But, you’d probably be away most of the time.”

“Away?”

“Yeah,” you look at her with a soft nod. “You’d get your big break—music, touring… all that stuff. Heard Ekko’s all excited for this gig you’ve got next month.”

Vi let out a breathy laugh, “Hah, yeah, lots of other big bands are coming in for the musical festival, so… good start to get our name out there… But, band practice is still on hold until Jayce fixes Loris’ bass.”

“Mhm,” The smile on your face stays as you look at her longingly. “I see it y’know… You’re this big rockstar… posters of your band everywhere, big arenas, lots of fans squealing to get your attention…”

She grinned widely, “You think?”

You nodded in response, “Yeah. You’ll travel all around the world, experience a bunch of new things… and lots girls would have a crush on you, I bet… you’d be living your dream.”

“But it wouldn’t mean anything if I didn’t have you to come home to.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t say anything. Vi glanced up, her lips quirking into a sheepish grin like she always does when she says something that gets your cheeks to turn the same color as her hair.

“I’m serious,” she added quietly. “I don’t want to think about a future where you’re not there.”

The softness in her voice made your stomach flutter, and without thinking, you leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“I’ll kill you if you use that line on anyone else,” you teased, though the sound of your voice was warm and full of affection.

“I know,” Vi admitted with a small laugh, pulling your hand closer to her lips. She kissed your knuckles softly, her eyes never leaving yours.

Vi didn’t say anything else after that. She just let herself fall into the silence, her guitar forgotten beside her, turning her body to have her arms lazily draped around your waist. She watched you as you shifted back into your book, your fingers idly tracing the edge of the page before turning it, completely unaware of the smile playing on her lips. You were so focused, so peaceful, so beautiful, and Vi couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world to be able to share her space with you.

Her gaze flickered to the faint glint of silver just visible under your collar, and with a careful hand, she reached up to tug gently at the chain around your neck. Her fingers brushed against your skin, and when she pulled the necklace free, her smile grew. Two small rings dangled from the delicate chain, their edges catching the soft light of her room. One was engraved with Roman numerals—she liked it because, well, it had her name on it—while the other glimmered faintly with small, clear stones that sparkled even in the dim glow. They overlapped perfectly, and that’s how Vi wants her relationship with you to be like all the time.

Vi turned the rings over in her fingers, tracing their familiar grooves. She played with the chain gently, letting it slip between her fingers as the rings swayed slightly against your chest.

Her own necklace felt heavy against her, the identical rings resting just beneath her shirt.

Satisfied with the way the rings settled back against your skin, she let the chain fall back into place and smiled at you, her thumb brushing over your collarbone.

Then, you continued to your book, and Vi just sat there, leaning into you, her fingers brushing softly against your thigh as she let herself bask in just being with you.

The future was such a big, hazy thing, full of unknown possibilities she couldn’t understand…. But sitting here with you, your hand still resting in hers, she felt nothing but excitement—hope, even—for whatever the world would throw at her, if it meant living in it with you.

But she didn’t know then how time and space would pull you both in different directions, that the version of forever she dreamed of in that moment would one day feel so far away.

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#— heart to heart // series #b’s writings #vi x reader #vi <3 #vi arcane #arcane #arcane x reader #fanfic #series #fanfiction #league of legends #angst #fluff #reader insert #rockstar!vi #violet arcane #violet x reader

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erwinsvow · 11 months ago

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i can see the trio dangerously driving to or from a party. they’re speeding down the empty road, the new future album blasting from the speakers of topper’s jeep. kelce is up front, and reader and rafe are in the back. reader is a bit drunk and rafe is high out of his mind and can’t control his feelings for reader so he starts getting touchy with her, maybe trying to kiss her. since you’re just starting this au out, i’m curious to know how do you think reader would react and if she did kiss him back, how would topper and kelce react?

the last line of coke was a mistake—it made him lose the last bits of his self control. it was clear that he was way too high to drive, even though it seemed like rafe always drove clear-headed or not, so you were assigned babysitting duty in the back.

top was on a rager today, even worse than his usual ones. whenever him and sarah started fighting, he got like this, currently blasting some future song at the highest volume possible, speeding through the streets of kildare. you would be a little scared, except kelce is driving while topper nurses yet another beer in the passenger seat. you're deliciously drunk, still gone from the drinks you had at the party, not a care in the world except making sure rafe doesn't keel over in the back.

you mumble along the words to the song, pretty much engraved in your memory from how often it was played. you don't know how it happens, your fingers just find rafe's hair, brushing it out of his face while he talks to top and kelce in the front, amped up and loud, acting as crazy as you've ever seen him. you giggle, continuing your motions.

topper begins some rant about his girlfriend, or rather, his ex, while rafe locks eyes with you. it's hard to keep eye contact, looking away the second rafe shuts up and focuses on you completely. you're never shy around them but this might be the closest you've gotten.

you feel rafe's hands on your exposed thighs, your tiny skirt ridden up in the seat. his touch feels good, in your drunken state you don't think there's anything wrong with it. he's just being friendly, being touchy, being rafe. he strokes the soft skin of your legs, running his hands down to your ankles, while you shift around in the back. all it would take is one look from the boys in the front to see that something's going on back here.

"rafe, listen to top he's talkin-"

"shh," rafe says, noise completely overlooked by the others, nothing audible except the thump of the bass. he takes your face into his hand, leaning in close. "shut up for a second." he kisses you, briefly, barely, lips touching together and your eyes fluttering shut, when kelce slams on the brakes. the two of you fly apart, your heart thudding for an entirely different reason now.

"what the fuck, kelce, my brakes-" top starts.

"it was a deer, you idiot. you guys okay?" he turns to look at you and rafe in the back, your face flushed and rafe's hands still on your legs.

"fine," rafe mumbles. the four of you head back to tannyhill, you crashing on rafe's bed like always while top and kelce take the guest room down the ball. the two of you are out before you can bring it up, but rafe doesn't forget about it.

in the morning, you stretch, the oversized shirt of his you'd put on for the night riding up. rafe doesn't wait another minute.

"so, about last night. in the car." he looks at you, waiting for your response.

"oh, rafe, don't apologize. it's okay. we were both pretty gone."

"m'not apologizin', i-"

"and i mean, who hasn't been there once or twice-"

"once or twice?"

"and i kissed kelce that one time, so i guess-"

"you kissed kelce?" rafe looks at you like you've committed a crime.

"what? it was new years."

"where the hell was i?"

"i don't know, probably sucking some girl's face off. i was busy making out with kelce, remember?" you laugh, getting up and looking for your clothes. rafe lays back down on the bed, deciding he's never leaving you alone with kelce ever again.

#this was... incredibly incredibly fun to write.#you are an ANGEL For sending this prompt i could picture it so vividluy #i hope you love <333333 thank you so so much for engaging and liking it!#📮 asks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #kook trio reader

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dearlyd3parted · 25 days ago

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𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️syp: Mark Lee is many things; A 2nd year college student, A stressed Stark Industries intern, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and also your childhood friend. He's also a secret fifth thing, a loser hopeless romantic who's been in love with you for years. Due to his inexperience, it takes him two failed attempts at a confession until the third is finally a charm. 🕸️mark lee x fem!reader - (127 centered) biggest idiots in love u will ever read 🕸️feat: a bit of nct dream, xiaojun from wayv, and yunjin from lsrfm cause mother 🕸️word count: total 26.2k 🕸️warnings: some profanity (mark is very stressed ok), descriptions of injuries (blood, cuts, bruises), light angst, mostly just misunderstandings and such, brief mention of smoking, eventual smut 🕸️authors note: ok i genuinely had so much fun writing this one i love mark so much and i live to push the spidermark agenda. i don't follow any exact mcu plot. just inspired more heavily by tom holland cinmenatic universe! also he has glasses in this fic, i know canonically spiderman has perfect vision but idc i have a nerd agenda to push ;p i've only proofread once, so pls bear with any typos. to my current followers who were waiting on me to post, i spent a lot of time on this one so that is why content is delayed, but i hope it makes up for it! im doing more piwon next! i really like this one and hope u do too. pls reblog and like and follow for more ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 🕸️chapter index: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 tags🏷:

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 - wc: 8.3k

Mark Lee has always been sure of his identity.

It seems that since birth he has had a very firm grasp on himself, what his personality is like, what he wanted in his future, what he wanted in the very moment. Mark has never been a mystery to him.

When he was in the 6th grade, he knew he was a buzzing personality. He knew he was a jokester, always smiling, always laughing, even when the moment didn't call for it. He knew that he loved to talk about anything, really. He could spend hours talking an unsuspecting classmate's ear off about his favorite subjects (math and english, never science), the video game he just played, or some cool new thing one of his favorite superheroes did.

However, because of his...as one would put it in kind terms, passion for life and anything that excited him slightly, he had a hard time making friends. Sure, he had some, the same handful of guys who had been perpetually stuck with each other since elementary school, but making new ones was the problem.

It was at that point that Mark realized he is also a people pleaser from time to time. Especially at 12 years old when everyone is dying to fit in. So, in order to get some of his peers to find him...not annoying, he tried to mimic their personalities.

Mark amped up the snarky-ness and the sassiness, changed his look to what could best replicate what was popular at the time, and started talking about Tony Stark maybe 30% less (That really was the best he could do).

And surprisingly....it worked. For a bit there, he was thinking he might slowly climb his way up from whimsical nerd to just some dude. God, he wanted to be just some dude so badly.

Then one day he saw you.

You sat alone on the end of a lunch table, a pizza lunchable in front of you as you clicked away on your DSI, seemingly playing...Pokémon? Of course, adorned with a Star Wars backpack sat right next to you. He shuddered a bit at the sight, but not negatively. He just really wished that was him instead of what he was currently doing, trailing behind the kids who play basketball after school with an immense 'cool kid' vibe to them.

Mark took immediate note at how they snickered at you, the word nerd being thrown around being most obviously about you. As he gripped onto his tray, a sly smile masking an internal panic on his face, he figured it was a perfect time to prove himself as he followed his pack leaders.

Mark cleared his throat as he approached you, ready to strike. "Nice backpack, Young Jedi." He snickered, his voice as condescending as he could make it out to be when addressing a really cool backpack.

You paused your game with a swiftness, swiveling around to look at him, not an ounce of offense on your face. Without a beat, your deadbeat expression bounced back.

"Nice bowl cut, loser.”

Needless to say, Mark didn’t make the cut for just some dude. He would be staying a talkative and giggly nerd for a while, he was sure of that fact about himself. He knew that was him. It was okay, though, because he didn’t want friends who he couldn't be himself around. After that whole facade, he knew he wasn’t the nonchalant cool guy he tried to resonate with.

He also knew that after a thorough and heavy apology his friend Taeyong had made him give you, he had just met someone who he resonated with a lot more.

He knew he was your new friend.

(To which you only agreed because of his Captain America themed backpack. Besides, your jab at his bowl cut that truly was awful made it even.)

A year later, he was certain that you were his best friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish that he had so many best friends, you including his flock of seven other boys who had just become stuck to each other.

But…there was something different about you. Like you were his ultra best friend, if thats a thing. After the initial awkwardness of your first meeting, the friendship only soared. Helping each other with homework, rewatching ‘Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith’ for the 30th time, fangirling over Tony Stark and the avengers. He never thought he would meet a girl that understood him so well, and in turn who he understood, too.

Until the 7th grade, he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. You were integrated into his group of friends, he didn’t treat you any differently and you didn’t with him. Yet, for some reason, he was happier when you were around, and even happier when it was only the two of you.

His heart was a mixture of things every time he made a joke and you laughed because of him. It had also dawned on him that even if you and him had your many similarities, you were still more reserved and cautious when it came to other people. Despite that, you seemed comfortable around him, enough to confide in him and share whatever you wanted to.

So, when you confided in him tearfully that the boy you had wanted to attend the spring formal with was going with another girl, as your best friend he decided to step in and take you himself to cheer you up.

Seeing you a bit happier at the outcome of that night, wearing a navy blue dress he remembers oh so vividly as the colorful lights seemed to be illuminating your smile, his heart sank to his stomach. That was when it had hit him what had been so different about you.

Mark knew that he liked you. He liked you terribly.

He knew he liked you as he danced with you, his hands tenaciously at your shoulders as you thanked him with a smile for not letting you come alone. He knew he liked ever since you started to feel ‘different’ in the best way possible, and he knew he would keep liking you for a long, long time.

And that is exactly what he did.

Middle school passed by in a flash, and he never liked you any less. In fact it was impossible to not like you more. You, who was always on his side through all his phases, who brought an extra sandwich from home to share with him at lunch, who gifted him the missing star wars comic in his collection for his birthday, who defended him against all the snickers and teases of the rest of the friend group, who was the cutest girl he would ever be blessed to see, who joined the academic decathlon in highschool so he wouldn’t be alone. How could he not crush on you harder?

Just because he liked you so much, didn’t mean that he rushed to act on it. Quite honestly, when he first realized all these feelings were heavy to hold and the only way to let go of them was to confess, he had a nervous breakdown. What would he even say? What would you say? How would he even explain this to you? You were always so headstrong and focused, would a measly schoolboy crush even appeal to you? Was this the end of the world?

Once he calmed down, however, he realized that there was no rush to explain the feelings he himself couldn’t even muster to say aloud. All that mattered is that you were in his life, and he was in yours. And he was pretty damn content with that. Maybe in the future, if he still felt so much and he had gotten much more confident, he’ll be able to tell you. At the moment, 15-year-old and sophomore in highschool Mark had no rush at all.

And then, he was bit by a spider.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal spider. Because god forbid anything ever be normal in Mark’s life. One morning, he woke up with body muscle his lanky limbs did not have when he went to sleep and a strength that broke his desk bunk bed in half. If it wasn’t obvious something was off, his glasses stuck on his hand for the better part of an hour sure confirmed it.

Yup, Mark knew it. He had turned into some sort of a Spiderman.

At least, that’s what he called it. It’s what he decided to go by when a very confused passerby asked him who he was as Mark saved his bike from a thief. A quick sew of some blue and red fabric with a poorly stitched on symbol, and he was putting these powers to test.

He had a good run making a name for himself on Youtube under this ‘Spiderman’ pseudonym. It was a blissful first few months, figuring out the basics of his powers, slamming into the wall maybe only a handful of times, fighting neighborhood crime in a heroic way that he used to only be able to gawk at the avengers doing.

However, ignorance is bliss. Mark couldn’t possibly be ignorant to the way that he was making enemies who didn’t like the interference with their crimes all over queens, and fast. He especially couldn’t ignore it when a particular petty group of criminals had hit rookie Spiderman with everything they had, and the bliss ended as he limped away his first gruesome fight he had managed to win with his life.

As he dragged his way across the city, whimpering and crying as the universe decided to make his first terrible day on the job even worse with rain, he was aware of how roughed up he was, he needed help.

He couldn’t just go to his Aunt and tell her her 15 year old nephew had been putting his life in danger for the last few months. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the identity he tried so hard to protect. He certainly couldn’t let his rowdy friends know by showing up to Taeyong’s apartment.

So he found himself barely making it up to your fire escape, knocking with the last bit of strength he had to get your attention from your Calculus homework to his figure in the window. He was limp and a mess of “i’m sorry”’s and “i don’t know where to go”’s as you pulled him in, speechless at the sight in front of you.

You didn’t get angry, you weren’t annoyed, you didn’t ask him a million questions. You only bandaged his wounds, and offered open arms as he cried and cried until he couldn’t anymore.

As Spiderman Mark gripped your hoodie, his tears staining it with salt, he knew he felt safe. God, he always did with you.

He knew that he loved you. Because honestly, wasn’t it impossible not to?

The revelation that he was in love with you didn’t come with much shock, if he asked 6th grade Mark if he knew this day would come, the answer would without any doubt be a yes.

It did come at a turning point in his life, however. He met Tony Stark, got suited up with Stark Industry gear that made every nerd crevice in his mind vibrate, fought with the avengers, nearly joined the avengers, accidentally revealed himself to his aunt, and then his other 7 friends, fought against avenger-level-threat villains, and quickly rose as one of the most famous heroes around.

Throughout everything, he never loved you any less. And even through his trials and tribulations as he settled in this neighborhood Spiderman identity, you never strayed from being his best friend. He didn’t need anything else to feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Except, maybe an answer to the dying question he wanted to know for years and years. Was he just your best friend? Or has he always been something more? On the few times you’ve told him something along the lines of, ‘I will never care about anyone like I do about you, Mark’, (And no, he actually didn’t memorize that one word for word) Did it also mean what he has always meant, or was he just dear to you in the friendliest way possible?

Although Mark was older, 18 years old and graduating from highschool, he still had that same mindset he had as an angsty new teenager. His feelings for you only weighed more and more in tons and tons over the years, especially since he was able to name it as love. Yet, he found it hard to explain why he still hadn’t felt any rush to act on them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, even if anyone who would hear his logic might think it was. As he watched you say goodbye to peers and friends at graduation from a distance, happiest as ever in your cap and gown as you were set to attend MIT with him in the fall, he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He dreamt of it some nights, actually. He hadn’t known you his whole life, but for some reason, it felt like you were always there. When he had that stupid bowl cut, when he tried out for the soccer team and made a fool of himself, when he got his first B on an english paper, when he got bit by that spider and bit off more than he could chew, when he was applying for college and decided to major in computer science and engineering, you were there.

As you pranced back to him as you finished saying your farewells, he couldn’t help but think it would always be this way. You had him, and he had you. The night you both graduated, you both sat on a rooftop, staring at queens under you as you shared a pizza. Naturally, it felt like you would always be there. You were just natural.

Despite that, It had been nearly seven years since he first met you. Nearly seven years since he told himself he would confess when the time was right, when he was more confident and hopefully a little bigger.

He was definitely taller, and involuntarily grew some muscle. Luckily, his hair hadn’t seen the after effects of a bowl cut in years. His voice didn’t squeak when he talked to you or any girl for that matter, and he liked to think he was 10% less of a nerd. At least, enough to be charming when it counted.

So as you both left highschool for your first year at NYU, he decided he checked a sufficient amount of boxes to go for it. However, it was clearly going to be harder said than done. Just seeing you the night after he made up his mind that the time has finally come, his forehead was slick with nervous sweat and somehow he walked right into a pole. Your questioning about why his ‘Mark tingle’ hadn’t worked–which is what you had named his 6th spider-sense–didn’t help not one bit.

Truth is, it was terrifying. He didn’t know why. He had fought against intergalactic villains and catched runaway trains with his bare hands. Yet a simple ‘I’m madly in love with you’ was too much for him to handle.

Mark composed himself, running it through his mind during every late night patrol. He was going to do it, and soon. First, he had to get over the initial fear. After that, love sparks would fly.

Soon turned into weeks later, then months, and then an entire year. Before Mark could blink, it was the 2nd year of university and the ‘initial’ fear seemed to be a perpetual one.

In his defense, the first year of college was very busy. The both of you were buried in the books, biochemical and computer science engineering not being easy majors, and of course trying to maintain extracurriculars. Mark with his Stark Industries internship, that both was still a pseudonym for Spiderman duties, and this time around an actual internship he had begged Mr. Stark for. You, with the school's Debate team and interning wherever it counted and wherever paid.

Mark would be a liar if he said there was absolutely no time, though. A plus to the both of you being the unassuming and socially awkward nerds all throughout the years meant that you didn’t peak in highschool. University could be a time to blossom, be more social, enjoy the journey a little more, maybe attend a party or two.

Watching you in this beaming light as you entered a new chapter of your life, an enigma shining more than ever, it only intimidated Mark even more. Which is why his after-graduation-confession plans had stretched out a whole year later.

Mark never felt like he was losing you, though. Losing his mind? Most definitely, but not you. You were closer than ever, Mark was content.

Telling himself that he had you on his side through everything, and he would continue to have just that is what helped him sleep at night. He would stop being a coward eventually, and just like the movies, the sun would shine a halo around you, his eyes would meet yours, and he could finally confess. Time, there was lots of it, right?

Wrong. Again, it seemed like Mark’s reality was always perpetually shifting or going the opposite direction that he was aiming for.

Today, he found himself standing outside of one of the many NYU buildings, waiting for your cell biology class to be done with. It had become a habit to him to make sure you got back to your apartment safely after classes that ran into the evening, claiming that as the resident neighborhood spiderman, it was his duty to escort you. Even though in reality, you were capable of getting around just fine, and this was just another excuse for Mark to spend even more time with you.

He was wiping down his glasses when he heard the door open and you walked out, tired out from a full day of classes. He wasted no time putting on his glasses back on, making sure he caught every bit of you. Mark always thought you looked best like this, hair down and tousled in comfy clothes, today a cardigan and some baggy jeans, the night making your features even softer.

You smiled despite your weariness, waving at him, and Mark smiled right back. “Hi, Mark.” you said, walking up to him as you clutched onto your bag.

Mark reached for it, slinging it over his shoulders, the heaviness of textbooks and all your other supplies being nothing to him. “Y/n! How was your day?” He asked enthusiastically.

You stared at him with those eyes you get, sighing as you looked down. “It was alright…I got assigned two group projects, though. I mean, two, seriously? In the first month of school?” You complained and talked with your hands like you always did when you were angry, as you both started walking, Mark listening to every word.

Mark inhaled sharply, making a face at the thought. “Yikes. Two on the same day is some luck. My operating systems professor said we would have a group project soon as well, but at least we get to choose our partners.”

You pouted up at him, finding your situation unfair. “We can’t even have that luxury. I don’t know any of the people I was assigned with.” You complained with a frustrated sigh.

Mark sympathized with you, knowing how unfortunate that must be, but when you looked so expressive and adorable as you complained, it was hard for his heart to stay still in its cage. “That really does sound like it sucks. I hope they aren’t rude or some slackers.”

You shook your head looking off at the city in front of you, when all Mark could do was look at you. “I don’t think they will be too bad. The group project for cell bio, I got this one guy…Xiaojun, I think, for a partner. He seems like he’ll be a big help.”

Mark’s head tilted, his glasses tilting in the process. “Mm, really? How so?”

You looked at Mark with a pursed smile, shrugging at the recollection. “He’s very receptive, first to offer to help with research. Gave me his number so I could call him ‘if anything’, so I gave him mine as well. He’s nice, a little too nice maybe, but nice.”

Mark felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he hadn’t heard of you and any other guy in ages. He didn’t want to. As he took in what you had said, recognizing the name of a pretty well-known school heartthrob, exchanging numbers with him, and even the whispered fact of him being too nice, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Surely it couldn’t be that this Xiaojun was…taking an interest in you?

Mark had to make sure as he forced down the lump that prevented him from speaking. “Ah…so sounds like…he’s flirting with you.”

You both came to a stop at an intersection. You pondered your words as Mark stared at you, reading your every visible thought. “It seems like it. He’s a nice guy but I'm not interested if that is the case…because…” You said, your words trailing off as you looked at Mark with a distant look in your eye and shrugged after a moment. “I guess, I don’t have a reason to not be interested. Should at least hear the guy out, I suppose.”

Mark’s heart sank to the floor in record speeds. And he’s jumped off of buildings. As the light turned from the orange hand to the walking man, he stalled a few seconds, shaking off this new dread as he jogged a little to match your pace. “H-hear him out? So you…you like him?”

You giggled a bit, shaking your head with a smile. “I didn’t say that. I just met the guy. All I’m saying is I’ve always said no, no, no, and no. Maybe it’s time to move…Uh, I mean, to stop saying no so quickly.”

All Mark could process in that sentence is that there were others that you had to say no to. As he looked down at the sidewalk he was strolling on, his world view seemed to crack a bit. He had always known how amazing you were. Your eyes an ocean he wanted to sail. Your hair framing you in the most flattering way. Your sarcasm and humor that brightens his day. Your drive. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your generosity. Should he keep going? He could, he could spend days listing everything that was right in you. It had just never dawned on him that other hormonal and sappy guys like him could do the same and act on it. Worse, that you could entertain it.

“As in…look for someone?” Mark asked, his voice sounding pathetic beyond his control.

You sighed, staring off at the distance, not wanting to look at him. “I don’t know…it’s just…something I've been thinking about. It feels like I'm overdue to try my hand at this whole love thing…”

Overdue. Overdue. Is that really how you felt? Mark supposes you have both gone your whole lives without dating someone. At this point in your lives, that can be considered a while. Mark had never felt like he was lacking in that category, love, because he had so much of it for you. You didn’t know that, though, and now you felt overdue.

Mark’s palms were sweaty as he gripped the straps of both of your bags. “There’s…no rush, though, right...?” He questioned, trying to preach his own stupid, stupid anthem.

You nodded, a bit solemnly if he had to add, looking up at him with a strange mix of a smile and pout. “You’re right. No rush.”

Mark sighed a breath of relief. A relief that didn’t last long as you spoke up again. “But there’s also no reason to push it away anymore.”

Mark had so many questions, such as why were you set on ‘pushing it away’ until now, where the hell did this Xiaojun come from, how it can be possible that a certainty he awoke with this morning can crumble a mere few hours later, and how he could possible be so stupid, stupid, stupid, cowardly, and naive?

Mark inhaled a sharp breath, trying to stabilize himself. He wanted to freak out, he wanted so badly to bring the both of you to a halt and grab your hands, begging for you to not even think about this. However, that would also be stupid, and if he showed that he was anything short of understanding during this conversation, you would never share anything like this with him again. Then, he would be completely in the dark about your apparently beginning love life.

“If…that’s what you want.”

Stupid. Idiot. Buffon.

There it was again, that forced smile that Mark was too busy internally panicking to notice himself. “He hasn’t even said anything that confirms the suspicion. But…I’ll see. I’ll figure out what it is that I want.”

Mark nodded, trying to play it cool as his fingernails dug into his palm. He didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the train station, standing in front of the train that took you home.

You looked up at him, smiling softly as you reached up to flick hair out of his face. It didn’t help the melting pot that was his current emotions. “You texted early that you wanted to get an early patrol. You should go get ready. I’ll be okay from here.”

Mark normally would have shaken his head no immediately, insisting that he take you all the way to your front door. Today however, he felt as if the longer he spent around you, the closer he was to losing it. “You sure? I really don’t mind-” is all he managed to say as you cut him off.

“Positive. I can join you on comms later tonight. Gotta get some homework done first.” You said, looking back as the train started to pull into a stop. “You go get ready. And eat something or you’ll be off your game. Last time you went out hungry you nearly crashed in an office window.”

Mark chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking to himself that of course only you could make him laugh and make him want to yell in such a short span. “Aye-aye captain, I’ll do that. You better go before the train leaves.”

You nodded, taking back your bag from him and waving. “I’ll come to yours tomorrow. We have o-chem in the morning. We can swing there?”

Mark smiled, as best as he could by this point, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll swing there. Text me when you’re home.”

You shot a thumbs up as the train doors opened and you rushed to get in. “I will, bye Mark! Careful!”

His heart warmed, you had always told him to be careful, no matter the hundreds and hundreds of times he must have gone out now. It wasn’t enough to make him unball his fists though. “Bye, Y/n.” He said back, missing its added sense of joy.

He watched as you walked in, taking a seat and looking back at him once. He didn’t even have the guts to stand there and watch you leave, looking back twice before he was sprinting up the subway stairs and running down the street.

The slight chill in the night felt even colder as he ran, wind blowing smack in his face, but he kept running until he found an alleyway, running deep into it until he was out of sight, away from any pedestrian eyes. The cuff Mr. Stark had given him came in handy at times like these, when all he wanted to do was be suited up as soon as he could, His heart wouldn’t stop racing as the press of a button had him in his full spider-suit. He tightened his backpack onto himself, and he was off, shooting himself up in the air, and running across a ledge before throwing himself off.

He didn’t even react as he reached closer to the ground than normal, shooting a web to divert his fall just in time. Even when he was swinging way too fast, weaving through buildings and poles and cars. All he could think about you and your words. When he woke up in the morning, he thought he had time, lots of it. Now as dusk falls over and the cars underneath him couldn’t be as loud as his thoughts, he finds out he doesn’t. Or perhaps he did, and now it had run out on him.

. 　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

“So, the last thing I said was, ‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want,’ and then we got to the train station.” You finished explaining to your roommate, Yunjin, as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

You had only met Yunjin last year, but she already felt like one of your best friends you had ever made because of how easy it was to tell her all of your problems. Of course, you already had one of those, Mark Lee, who had been wreaking havoc in your life since you had first caused him to become the laughingstock of the popular kids back in 6th grade. But you couldn’t tell him absolutely all of your problems. Especially the biggest one, that you had always had a strange sense of infatuation for him that you expected to go away, yet here you were.

If you had to pinpoint when it began, you would say when he knocked on your window sophomore year of high school, bloodied and in the famous original spiderman costume. Mark had always been loveable, long before he got bit by that spider. It was what you liked most about him, his ability to always see the positive, to always somehow wear a smile and a laugh. In someone like that, it takes the utmost trust for them to allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves to be seen.

So, it wasn’t the suit that made you realize what you had felt. Even if you had been a major Spiderman fan and the revelation was only a little life changing, that was the last thing on your mind. He was hurt, he was scared, and he needed someone, and his first thought was you.

You thought it was a fluke, feeling so much for someone so unexpected. Surely, it was bound to go away. Yet, it didn’t. The feeling was nagging and adamant, just like Mark, and refused to let go.

After some time, you came to terms with the fact that nothing about it was unexpected at all. Since you met Mark, you spent every waking moment with him. Going to your first hero convention, building the Lego death star you got for your birthday, the school trip to Venice, middle school dances, high school dances, all of it was Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark. Every memory, the good and bad, that held a special place in your heart had Mark. How was he not to become special as well?

You thought about coming straight out with it, hoping to get closure or acceptance or anything that would help maim the feeling of overflowing love. However, Mark wasn’t just Mark anymore, he was Spiderman. While the latter didn’t matter much to you, it had become a part of who he was. With his great powers, came great responsibility. Not just that, but it seemed like him almost dying every other weekend had become his new reality. While it was stressful watching Mark go through all of that, even as you became his girl-in-the-chair of sorts to help him on patrols, you couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Mark for himself. It felt unfair to throw a confession on top of everything he already had to deal with.

So, you decided if anything were to happen between you two, Mark would have to initiate it.

While you may have kept it better under wraps, Mark always wore his emotions on his sleeves. It would take an outstanding idiot to not notice the way he acted around you. The way his ears go pink before his cheeks do, the way on occasion he’ll forget to respond as he stares in a trance, or he’ll fumble with whatever object he has in his hand. Mark had always had those awkward, loser-ish tendencies, but it was undeniable at how they seemed to be at their worst whenever you were around.

He had to have at least entertained the idea. So, therefore it was just a waiting game. When Spiderman was ready to take that leap, so were you.

You waited, and waited, waited, and waited, and waited some more. Suddenly, the second year of university came, and you were still waiting.

Honestly, it had brought you down that no moves were made as you graduated high school. Needless to say, that the fact he was still radio silent when entering university only made you more discouraged and had you wondering if your premonition was wrong after all.

Your new roommate turned friend, however, was quick to catch onto your gloominess, and almost immediately connected the dots that it was about Mark.

Since you caught her up on everything she needed to know, while of course keeping Mark’s secret locked away, she had become a trusted person to confide in. As opposed to your clear inexperience, Yunjin had more experience on her love life resume, and was always at bay with advice.

Her recent advice being something that she believed would speed up the process, to display your availability, and to flaunt that you were planning on using it. In whatever form that may be.

So, when Xiaojun exchanged numbers with you, (and in your defense, was indeed being a little too friendly) it was the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

That is how you found yourself here, playing the conversation back and forth amongst each other to try and decipher if it worked.

Yunjin groaned, hand coming down to smack the pillow in her lap. “‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want.’ You guys are impossible. It is crystal clear what you both want.” She said with a shake of her head. “Is that really all he said? ‘If that’s what you want?’ How did he…I don’t know, was he panicky or shaky or anything?”

You thought about it with a sigh, shrugging. “I mean, I guess he was a little. At the stop walk he…almost forgot to move? But he had just come from that Stark internship, he’s always like that after it. Like a deer in headlights.”

Yunjin sighed as well, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, this is good. This is a good start. We’ll just have to ramp up the Xiaojun thing and eventually, he’ll be forced to crack.”

You smiled, a little bittersweetly, your hands clenched together. “I hope it plays out like that…otherwise all this for nothing.”

Yunjin could read you like a book, a superpower of hers Mark didn’t always have, ironically. “Not for nothing. You know, you could always say something.”

You looked up at her with a knowing look, shaking your head with a sigh. “You know I can’t. He’s got too much to deal with, he’s literally sp…super busy. With school and the stark internship. I just can’t.”

Yunjin nodded as she stood up, taking the memo not to pry any further. “Alright, I hope this works then, for the sake of you both.” She said as she grabbed your face in her hands jokingly. “Seriously. I’m sick of looking at it.”

You swatted her hand away, chuckling. You hoped it worked too. With your whole being.

. 　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark landed on the roof of his apartment that night exhausted from a full day of work followed by an evening patrol. Crime was quiet lately, with his biggest cases today being a measly shoplifter and a cat stuck in a tree. The type of quiet that came before a storm. Mark had too much on his mind to think about that, however. All of which involves you.

He deactivated his suit and found himself back in regular clothes, waltzing his way down the rooftop access stairs, all the way to his apartment on the 6th floor.

He came in fidgety and anything but calm, seemingly too pumped with adrenaline and emotion to be as tired as he usually is after days like this.

Mark had the opportunity to be roommates with two of his friends, Johnny and Doyoung. Luckily for him and unluckily for his friend, Johnny was sitting on the couch, a gaming controller in his hands as he looked up to see the ball of nervousness make its way into the once mellow apartment. “Hey, Mark.” Johnny greeted, not talking his eyes off the TV. “You wanna play overwatch? Doyoung’s out for the night.”

Mark could barely register the question, his backpack slamming on the kitchen table as he plopped down on the couch next to Johnny. “What? No, no. I’m good, don’t wanna play. I have to talk to you, though.”

Johnny sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. If his hands weren’t so busy, he’d probably grab his head too. The subject was painfully obvious. “What’s up?”

Mark sat back, looking at the ceiling. “Y/n. I messed up. So bad, dude.”

Johnny nodded, trying to feign surprise. “I see. How is she by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Mark ran his hand through his hair, shooting the back of Johnny’s head a look at the inappropriate question during his time of stress. “She’s fine, dude. She told me something today.” Mark said, taking a deep breath to begin his rant. “You know, I told you…I’m confessing soon. Or I’m planning to. When I work up to it. I thought…shit. I’m so stupid. I thought she’d wait for me. She doesn’t even know, but I thought she’d wait. Apparently, there’s this dumb guy she has a group project with. Xiaojun, that’s his name. He’s flirting with her, I’m assuming. They exchanged numbers and everything.”

Johnny listened with his eyes a little narrowed, nodding in understanding. “Ah. I know that guy. He’s pretty cool.”

The look on Mark’s face couldn’t be described as anything less than offended. “He is arguably not. I mean…I know people must try to hit on her and stuff, but she was like…all cryptic. Saying things like ‘maybe it’s time to not say no so quickly’ and ‘I’m overdue at this love thing.’ She says she doesn’t like him but…she’s…she’s looking to date right? It’s gotta mean that.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to keep playing his game or turn and start shaking Mark by his shoulders. “Listen, Mark. Y/n’s a nice girl, full package, great person, gorgeous as well, and a single college student. Dating is kinda what you do. Especially with someone like Xiaojun.”

Mark’s world couldn’t crumble any faster. If only Doyoung was there instead, he at least would have broken the news a little nicer. “Oh, God. Shit. What…what do I do? She’s gonna start...dating.” He muttered with his hands on his face, glasses pushing up to his head.

Johnny stifled a groan. “Mark, you do what you should’ve done years ago. You just tell her, man.”

Mark didn’t like that answer. Of course, it was the only one that made sense, but he was hoping that someone would have some sort of miracle solution. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Johnny retorted. “I mean, you’ve known this girl nearly half of your life. She cares about you a lot. You see it, I see it, we all see it. A confession isn’t going to break a bond like this, it can’t. You’ve got to know by now that what you’ve got is stronger than that.”

In the eyes of Mark, what Johnny said went against what every imagined worst-case scenario told him, even if logically it had made sense. You weren’t the type of person to cause a grand thing or make Mark feel bad about something so small. That was inherently the problem, however. Nothing about this was small. Small is the last word he would use to describe how he feels about you. You wouldn’t consider small something that could fill every ocean on earth's surface and then some. “How do I even tell her? I can’t just say ‘I’m in love with you.’” Mark argued, his voice sounding more and more pathetic.

Johnny used a brief moment to shoot a look at Mark, his eyes going back to the TV as he finally put his controller down and completely discarded the match he was in, leaning on his knees. “At this point, that’s exactly what you say. Your problem is that you’re trying to make it too grand, too perfect. Y/n has never been the type to be a stickler for that. It doesn’t matter how you do it, it won’t affect the outcome. If the feelings are there, which if you ask me, I think they are, then they’re there. Plain and simple.”

Mark felt a lot of things, but at that moment defeat was most prominent. He had been imagining for years how he would confess to you. In one fantasy he would buy a billboard in Times Square and take you to see it, or perhaps he would learn the guitar and write you a song. He could make his own advent calendar, buy you a present everyday each specifically curated to your wants, and on the final day, a beautiful piece of jewelry. You deserved nothing short of perfect, but now he had to ask himself if that was really what you would want, or if he’s trying to pull every string he can for it to work in his favor.

“So, what do I do…?” Mark said quietly, running his hand through dark hair.

“I just told you. Just tell her. Write her a poem, take her to dinner, or just straight up come out with it. Just tell her, as soon as you can, before it’s too late.” Johnny said, a supportive hand patting Mark’s back. “No more waiting. You’ve run out of time. I’ve told you this before, but I promise you it’ll turn out fine.”

It had been a wild afternoon filled with many unwanted revelations and a nasty swirl of emotions, but the quick conversation had brought Mark to the eye of the storm. He was backed into a corner, with only one way out, and that realization had finally dawned on him. “You’re…you’re right. I have to…as soon as I can.”

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair, reaching for his controller. “That’s the spirit. You wanna play Overwatch now?”

Mark shot up and grabbed his bag from the table. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m beat. I’ll probably just go to sleep, honestly.”

Johnny nodded as he returned his focus back to the TV. “Night, then. Don’t stare at your ceiling all night.”

Mark scoffed as he called from the hallway. “Wasn’t gonna do that. And goodnight!”

He didn’t stare at his ceiling, but he did stare at his desk and lined paper almost all night. Johnny’s first idea of writing a poem was thrown out there randomly, but Mark didn’t think it was half bad. It was a short read on your end, and easy to get the point across without Mark having to do much talking. So, he wrote away, trying various different styles. From haikus to Shakespearean sonnets, to a ballad, each one frustrating him more and more. He even tried to make his usually sloppy writing neater than usual with cursive.

In his last attempt, he decided to ditch all rules of quatrains, lines, and rhyme schemes and instead write whatever he was feeling in a free verse poem. Finally, he felt the poem was right. Enough to say what he needed yet not including the words he needed to tell you himself. With a sigh, he laid out the poem neatly on his desk, ridding all evidence of his struggle the past hour by clearing off all pens and discarding all crumbled up sheets of paper in a trash can.

Mark found himself staring at it over with pride. Was it cheesy? Yeah. Was Mark a hopeless romantic? Certainly. That is just who Mark is, he knows that. After all these years spent with him, surely you know that too by now.

He was drained by this point, his eye lids that have felt stretched open the past few hours feeling too heavy for him to fight against them. Finally, he flopped on his bed, being able to close his eyes and drift to sleep, with plans to give you the poem laid on his desk the next time he saw you.

. 　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark didn’t process that he would be seeing you much sooner than he expected. Soon being the next morning that you had set to head to class together. How could he when he was so out of it? He hadn’t felt as physically and emotionally tired as he did yesterday in a while, which consequently probably caused him to sleep through his alarm the next morning.

So, he slept like a boulder, missing all of your incoming calls and texts saying that you were headed to him, blissfully unaware of the poem laid out on his desk.

Mark still slept like a baby as you arrived at his apartment, and of course Doyoung had let you in without hesitation. It was completely out of his control as you made your way to his room on a mission to wake him up. Mark stirred awake, slowly and whiny, as you shook his shoulder, your voice quiet yet enough to wake him up gently. “Mark…you overslept. Get up now, so we won’t be late.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his eyes as you stepped away from him, your job complete. In Mark’s freshly awoken state, he didn’t see what the problem was as you browsed around his room while he gained consciousness, eventually pulling his desk chair out to sit at. Sitting down, your curious eyes landed on the only thing that was laid out, his poem. Well, your poem.

He sat up, his hands still attacking his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, and you were already well into reading it. Your face was a scramble of feelings that only grew in perplexion as you read every last word, and even getting the chance to read it twice before Mark realized. After a particularly effective yawn and stretch, his eyes landed on you with your eyes set on the paper. Only then did Mark shoot up on his feet, his limbs stumbling as he decided if he should play it cool or snatch the paper from your hands, his only thought being, “please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it.”

At Mark’s not very subtle reaction, you put the paper down, looking up at Mark from the chair. “That’s…” Is all you managed to say, not being able to choose between the words intense, beautiful, star striking, devoted, or out of place in Mark’s room. So instead, you stayed speechless for a moment, another feeling the poem invoked as you studied his every move. “Did you write that…? For who? Your writing looks different-”

In a split second, Mark was torn between answering your question with a “yes” and several “you, you, you, you, it’s all about you, only about you," ’s which is what he should have done, or lying his head off.

The image in his mind of you sat in front of him, seeking answers to your questions, looking at Mark like you were searching for something, it seemed to move in slow motion. This was the plan, was it not? He would hand you the poem, and then he would just admit it was about you. You were more than smart enough to piece together what that implied.

As he cut you off, he hoped that was what came out, a mere couple of words that would be all he needed to say in the moment. However, when has anything ever gone his way?

“I didn’t write it!”

Mark said a little too desperately, wishing he could exit this sack of meat and bones and punch it across the face. “Not my writing. Too neat. I uh…I found it…on my desk! In my coding class! Must be some kind of secret admirer, I think.” He exclaimed, watching as your face went from something that he couldn’t tell was hope to neutrality, drinking in his lie as fast as he had come up with it.

“Oh…well, that’s…wow. They must really like you,” you pondered as your eyes grazed over the paper.

Somehow, the poem that he had poured his heart into for you, had turned into the sign of affection that a made up secret admirer had written for Mark. If you weren’t right in front of him, he’d fall to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as his first confession attempt results in a failure down the drain. “Yeah…I guess so…”

Turns out, confessing right away was going to be much harder than he imagined.

. 　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

chap. 2

chap. 3

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #mark lee fluff #mark lee smut #spidermark #fanfiction #spidermark x reader

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hellfirenacht · 7 months ago

Text

Wing Man 14

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Corroded Coffin audition with Paige, and you take more than one risk.

6.2k Words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13)

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You asked Eddie as the rest of Corroded Coffin piled out of the back of his van and started pulling out their instruments. You pulled your jacket closer around you, trying to shield yourself from the bitter wind right outside of Live Mike Studios. “I’m really not trying to be the Yono Oko here.”

“You’re fine.” Eddie reassured you for probably the hundredth time in the past two weeks. “You’re just here for moral support, and to show Paige and her suits that we have at least one fan.” He handed you his guitar case and you slung it over your shoulder as he grabbed the amp while the others were grabbing Gareth’s drum set and hauling it inside.

“Do you need the amp?” you asked.

He stopped for a moment, his brows furrowed and then set it back down in the back of the van. “Right. They’ll have one inside.”

“I mean, we’re at a recording studio. It makes sense.” You replied as Eddie shut the van door and turned back to you. In the few moments he had been out in the cold, his nose and cheeks had turned red which only added to the anxiousness in his eyes.

Eddie said it was fine for you to be here, so you decided that at this point it there was no use arguing. Actually, that point probably came about an hour ago when he picked you up, kicked Jeff into the back of the van and had you sit up front next to him as you drove out of Hawkins to the studio where Corroded Coffin would be meeting with Paige and her people.

You were a little intimidated to meet Eddie’s ex, especially since she held the future of your... boyfriend? Eddie in the palm of her hands. It had been only a few weeks since that night in his trailer, but things had been going surprisingly smoothly all things considered. There had been no more miscommunication, no faking intoxication to get rides home, and the deal you had with Steve was dead and buried.

The only thing that seemed to hang between you and Eddie was that you two hadn’t talked about what you two were or might be. That was one thing you never could wrap your head around when Steve talked about going on dates. He’d be going on multiple dates with different women, but he said it was all casual right now. That he was dating, but it wasn’t like he had a girlfriend yet.

You couldn’t imagine dating more than one person at a time. Steve said you were thinking about it too hard, you said you didn’t want to hear that from him. Steve said that you clearly were doing well with Eddie, so you didn’t need to worry about dating anymore. You said that you still didn’t fully understand the difference between dating and being boyfriend and girlfriend. Steve said if it bugged you that much then to just talk to him about it. You threw an empty receipt roll at him for daring to give you good advice for once.

There hadn’t been a good time to bring it up yet. After that chat with Steve, Eddie had announced that Corroded Coffin had an official audition with Left Turn Media. This meant that Eddie’s time had been all but completely been consumed by band practice, school, and work at the Hideout.

Not that he hadn’t made time for you, of course. Eddie had picked you up and dropped you off every shift he had at the Hideout where Bev promised that he could play. It turns out that possibly being signed got the band more stage time. Not much, but more than just the usual half-hour per week that was allotted to them.

He spent his nights with you, coming over after school or work to hang out in your shitty little apartment that was still decorated for Halloween because you hadn’t had the time to take them down. Eddie said that he liked the decorations, and that he thought it was pretty metal that you went so hard for the holiday, which only encouraged your laziness in taking everything down.

Things were going well, and your crush on Eddie only grew more by the day. You didn’t want to mess anything up with him by moving too fast.

Besides, today wasn’t about that. Today was about Corroded Coffin and their audition with Paige. Eddie had been worried about this for weeks now, even though you had said several times that this audition felt like a formality and that Paige seemed to really want to have him on board.

Eddie didn’t seem entirely convinced, pointing out that the last time they auditioned WR Records had wanted only him, and didn’t want Corroded Coffin as a whole.

Everyone made it inside the studio, instruments in hand. Eddie had taken his guitar back and you assisted with bringing in the drumset to set up in the recording booth. The band looked around in awe at the interior, despite how simply laid out it was. There was a palpable excitement within the group as this moment became more and more real.

“Eddie!” A girl with freckles and dark hair walked out into the lobby to greet you all. This had to be Paige.

You stood to the side as Eddie and Paige hugged awkwardly, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Paige then went to the remaining members and shook their hands and introduced herself. The only other person she seemed to already know was Jeff. Eddie had mentioned that he had been the only one truly around for the first audition.

Then she turned to you, and looked you up and down for a split second before offering her hand out.

“I’m Paige, you must be the girl Eddie mentioned.” She said.

You took her hand and told her your name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The girl Eddie had mentioned. Not girlfriend or the girl he was seeing. Dammit, you really needed to get out of your own head about that. That was a conversation for later, not right now. You and Eddie were dating, that was a fact. Eddie had turned down this girl to date you.

But seeing the way Paige interacted with everyone, doubt crept into your mind as to why. Paige was pretty, there was no denying that. Her outfit was the perfect combination of professional and alternative and here she was, offing the guy you were dating everything he ever wanted.

Then there was you, at your dead end job as the assistant managed of a retail store, wearing clothing you still wore in high school and completely clueless as to what the fuck you were supposed to do with your life and where you were supposed to be.

Eddie and Paige belonged in music, anyone with two working brain cells could see that. Paige led everyone to the back area where there were several people waiting at the recording console. A few were in suits and a few looked like they had just crawled out of bed and staggered over.

You weren’t sure which were more intimidating.

“There’s some coffee and water on the table, if you’d like to grab something while we talk to the band.” Paige said with a smile.

“Right, yeah.” You nodded and just as you were about to turn away, you felt someone grab your hand.

Eddie gave your hand a squeeze and you swallowed any insecurity and gave him your best reassuring smile.

“You got this.” you said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek before you realized what you were doing. You didn’t look at him as you made your way to the small coffee station and grabbed yourself some water. Your stomach was already tied up in knots and you were sure that coffee would turn your inside to liquid right now.

You took a seat on a couch and watched as Eddie introduced himself and the band to the people in the room. Eddie’s skin looked pale with nerves, but other than that you would have thought that he had done this a hundred times. There was something about him that always exuded confidence, even when he was nervous.

After everyone had shaken hands, Paige took over and led a few people in suits and at least one person in the beat up AC/DC t-shirt into a back room. Eddie turned to his band and nodded, and everyone filed into the booth to set everything up.

The next hour was warm up and sound checks. The guy at the mixing booth kept muttering to himself and then giving directions in the microphone for everyone to hear him. Each time Eddie would nod and someone would adjust their instrument or play a sample.

After about ten minutes of this, they launched into a warm up cover of an old Dio song, which they played twice, followed by the song they were actually going to audition with.

You wished you could hear them, in the soundproof booth you could only see them playing their instruments. You almost got up to ask the guy at the booth for an extra set of headphones so that you could hear how they sounded. Based off of what you were seeing though... you weren’t confident that they were at their best. Eddie kept stopping them, and would either say something to the guy running the booth or to the rest of the band.

After about a half hour of this, the guy in the booth called for a break. Eddie was the first to set down his guitar and walk out, not looking at you as he made his way out to the hallway. You followed him instinctively, not looking the look on his face.

In the hallway, Eddie was bonking his head against a vending machine, making the chips and candies inside rattle.

“You know, a quarter would be easier to get something out.” you said, walking over to him.

Eddie looked up at you, his fringe plastered to his forehead from sweat. “I think I’m losing it.” he said. “I can’t seem to get us together to play the way we should. We either sound like we’ve never been on a stage or too polished. This happened last time too.”

“Have you tried imagining the audience in their underwear?” you offered.

“The only person watching is the guy in the booth. He’s not the scary part.” Eddie turned his back to the machine and leaned against it.

“What’s the scary part?”

“Everything else.” He rubbed his face with a deep sigh. “Paige, getting a deal, letting my band down again... I can’t shake it.”

“Whatever happened last time was a big deal, huh?” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You felt how tense he was, which worried you.

“You have no idea.” he shook his head, dropping his hands. “Last time was a fever dream. It... fuck it’s hard to explain. Everyone kept telling me how real I was, that I had what it took to make it. I was going to meet all these major executives for a major label and I blew it. Now, I’m trying again and this time- this is gonna sound so fucking stupid.”

“I won’t judge.” you promised.

“This feels more real than last time and it’s throwing me off.” He admitted, his body sagging against the vending machine. “An instant record deal with the biggest company for metal? It felt like a goddamn fever dream where I was somebody. I did shit I wasn’t proud of to get there, and now I’m trying to do things right for once and I feel like I want to book it out of here screaming.”

You grabbed his hand and his froze for a moment before squeezing it.

“You know, I don’t think you should run away.” you said, looking at him. “Only one of us can be a p ussy, and I already took that title in 8th grade.”

Eddie’s head snapped from the distance to your face, eyes wide. “What?”

“I mean, think about it. You’ve been playing for years at the Hideout, you rock. You know it, I know it, Paige knows it, and I suspect the rest of your band might know it too. You’ve gone this far, you might as well try. What’s the worst that can happen at this point?”

“You-” Eddie stared at you for a second, trying to decide how to respond. You didn’t blame him, you had just started talking at him hoping that something would stick. “...I guess the worst thing is that I could be a pussy for running away.”

“Yeah, and I already claimed that title and already ran away from an audition. We can’t both blow it, Eddie.” you nudged him. “We can’t be that couple that has to constantly copy each other and do things exactly the same. Don’t be a copy cat.”

You could swear there was a slight blush on his cheeks under the glow of the vending machine. “You’re a weirdo.”

“And you’re a freak. The music world is full of freaks. Go in there and get freaky or something.”

You felt him relax next to you and he pushed himself off the vending machine to face you. “Thanks.” he said and leaned down and kissed you.

You squeezed his hand as you returned the kiss, and he let his lips linger a bit longer than necessary before there was a cough from the doorway.

Eddie pulled back and you both looked over to see Paige staring at the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you ready?” she asked, glancing between the two of you before landing on Eddie.

Right when you were going to let go of his hand, he squeezed yours tighter and started walking towards Paige. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Once he was back in the booth, all eyes were on Eddie as he picked up his guitar and put it on. The men that Paige had been talking to were now in the room, huddled around the panel. One of the guys in jeans was setting up a camera in the recording room, making sure everyone was in frame.

This time, you made your way to the front as well. It was a bit crowded, but you stood next to Paige with your feet firmly planted on the ground. You were not going to be intimidated by Eddie’s perfect ex after she’d caught the two of you kissing in the hallway.

Paige leaned in and took the mic to talk to the band. “Alright, whenever you’re ready guys.” she said.

Okay, maybe you could be a little intimidated. But that doesn’t mean you were going to run away or shrink yourself down.

This time, you could hear the band from inside the recording room. You saw Eddie turn to Gareth and nod, and in return the drummer counted everyone off.

The first take was better than what they had shown during warm up. They got through the first verse before one of the men in the suits leaned over to whisper something to Paige that you couldn’t make out before she called for Corroded Coffin to pause.

Eddie looked over through the window, and any fear on his face had been replaced with all business. Paige gave them a note about their pacing and Eddie nodded and they started up from the beginning.

This went on for about a half hour with the band playing and then being stopped for notes. Each note was being taken to heart, and with each take they were getting better.

Which only confused you more when they couldn’t go through a full song without being stopped for some note. You could tell that everyone was getting confused and frustrated that each time they started they had to stop for some reason or another.

“They’re too polished.” One of the men muttered, looking at Paige. “They look like shit, but they’re playing like a high school marching band.”

You held back any amusement at the idea of Eddie in that stupid green marching band uniform with the feathered cap.

Paige sighed, and looked at Eddie with furrowed brows, and gave him another note into the mic. Something was... off. These guys were giving Corroded Coffin note after note, but that wasn’t going to unlock what they really needed.

“Thanks for coming out tonight, we’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to make you feel like you’re fighting demons in hell!”“

You remembered that first night you had sat and watched them play at the Hideout. That’s what Corroded Coffin was supposed to feel like. They were supposed to be wild and raw, and make you feel like you were fighting in hell.

Notes from a bunch of suits weren’t going to do that.

What you were about to do was probably going to overstep so many boundaries, but your impulse control was thrown out the window.

Taking a step back, you looked at each of the members of the band, trying to decide which one looked the most frustrated. Eddie looked stiff, Zack was fiddling nervously with his guitar, Jeff actually looked the least bothered... and then there was Gareth. Gareth looked like he was trying to burn a hole in his snare drum from the way he was glaring at it.

Making sure that none of the suits were paying attention to you, you waved your arm at Gareth. He looked up at you confused, probably wondering why the hell you were looking at him right now. You hoped this worked, and you hoped that they’d forgive you for this later.

“Hey.” you mouthed to the kid. “Fuck you.”

Gareth blinked and his eyes went wide. He leaned back slightly, staring at you looking offended.

You gave him your best. ‘Yeah, I said it. What are you gonna do about it?’ face. His grip on the drumsticks tightened as he glared at you.

You yawned and glanced over at Zack, making eye contact with him. You hated doing this, and knew this was a shot in the dark to give these dumb suits what they wanted. You crossed your arms and looked him up and down, with a condescending smirk, mimicking the way that the popular girls used to look at you.

You saw him mouth ‘What the hell?’ and this seemed to catch Paige’s attention for a second as she glanced at you while the suits were still muttering to themselves, oblivious to how two of the members of the band were now looking at you like you’d lost your mind.

Jeff looked over at Gareth and then followed the line of sight to you. He just snorted and shook his head, his fingers absently walking along the strings of his bass. You had a feeling that provoking him wouldn’t do anything, so you looked at Eddie.

He still looked stiff as he stared at the men watching him. Thankfully it was Jeff who walked over and nudged him and tilted his head towards you.

There was a serious look in his eyes for a moment before he blinked and his expression softened. You smiled at Eddie. He smiled back.

Then you pointed at yourself and then at him, earning a confused look as you pretended to dig into your pocket and pulled something out. Once your fist was in view of him, you shot your middle finger up at him.

His head tilted down, and his eyes widened as you flipped him off. You pretended to dig into your other pocket and presented him with two birds for the price of one.

“Freak.” you mouthed to him.

You saw the way his grip tightened on the neck of his guitar and he looked back at his band. They all looked annoyed as they waited for the suits to let them know they could play again.

Eddie looked at each of them and nodded before turning back to the mic.

Gareth didn’t even wait for the signal before counting them off and starting their song. They were off, their music blaring through the room at an intensity and rawness that you’d seen at the Hideout, and that night at the talent show so many years ago.

The suits looked shocked that they had started again so suddenly, but a glance at the men made it clear that they could see exactly what you saw. You took another step back, not wanting to interfere anymore than you already have.

“Alright, I’m jealous.” Paige said, stepping next to you.

That... was unexpected. You looked at her, but she was staring at the band with her arms crossed.

“Sorry?”

“If all it took was you flipping them off, I would have asked you to do that first.” Paige said.

“They just needed something to snap them out of their nerves. They play better when they’re not being studied like bugs.” you shrugged, your breath catching slightly as you watched Eddie play. How the fuck did you manage to land a guy as hot as him?

Paige was watching his as well with a thoughtful expression on her face. The suits had quickly shut up and were now watching Corroded Coffin with the attention they deserved.

“I had my doubts about the new line up.” Paige admitted. “The first time, it was only Eddie that anyone was interested in.”

Even you? Is what you wanted to ask, but you held your tongue.

“He works better with them.” she continued. “And with you.”

You glanced at her, but Paige just kept her eyes on the band as they played.

“I don’t think he ever looked at me like that when we were together.” Paige continued, the corners of her mouth turning up.

“Like how....?” you managed to asked, thrown for a loop at the turn of this conversation.

“Like you’re a real person. A friend. A girlfriend.” Paige shrugged. “We had fun, and wanted the same thing but... I don’t think he really saw me. And I don’t think I really saw him.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you kept your mouth shut as Corroded Coffin finished the song with a fire in their eyes.

There was muttering between the men and the guy who had been in charge of the camera nodded.

“That was great guys,” one of the men said in to the mic. “Now can you do that again with that AC/DC song-”

Before he could even finish, Gareth was counting them off and they started playing again. This time all the men chuckled at the enthusiasm.

“You know, we already got the take we wanted.” The recording guy said.

“I know, but I wanted to hear them play this one. It’s my favorite song.” the suit shrugged.

“Are you really banking their audition on how well they can cover your favorite song?” Paige asked.

“Not officially, but it helps.”

With the way the band was playing, you had a feeling this extra credit wouldn’t be a problem. Now that they had found their footing they were now taking off, looking like they were fucking flying as they ran through the song.

A few requests later from the men, and the boys finally were able to file out of the recording booth, flushed beaming.

The men in the suits shook everyone’s hand with a promise that they will be in touch soon with an offer.

“And offer...?” Eddie asked. “Wait does that mean-?” He looked between the suit and Paige quickly.

Paige smiled at him. “I always had every intention of signing you, but we’ll need to talk business to decide on how we can market you all.”

Everyone looked at each other, their eyes wide. It was like it was just now occurring to them that this was really happening. That they had auditioned and were liked.

“Oh fuck, my mom is gonna freak.” Gareth said, his eyes wide. You had a sneaking suspicion that Gareth may not have told him parents that he was doing this.

After a few more handshakes and gathering everyone’s contact information, everyone broke down their instruments and started heading to the parking lot.

“Holy shit.” Jeff was the first one to say anything as they stepped outside of the studio. “Did that really just happen?”

Eddie, looking a little shell shocked, opened the back of his van and helped put Gareth’s drum set inside. It was silent for a few moments as they all put away their instruments in the back of the van. Eddie turned to look at his friends, who were all staring at their leader for confirmation that what just happened was real.

You watched as Eddie looked at each of his band mates, his face firm for a moment before breaking out into a wide smile.

“WE DID IT!” He yelled, nearly jumping three feet in the air. The rest of the band followed suit, screaming and cheering and jumping up and down and grabbing onto each other.

Their joy was contagious, and you watched as they celebrated, your own heart swelling with joy at seeing them succeed. Though you had only known them for a few short months, you couldn’t be more proud of them.

Firm hands grabbed your shoulders and started shaking you, and you let out a surprised cry, gripping onto Gareth's arms.

“What the fuck was that about in there?” He asked, laughing his ass off. “We’re in the middle of the most important audition of our lives, and you tell me to fuck off?!”

“Actually, I said fuck you.” you clarified as he shook you again.

“Yeah, what the hell was with that look you gave me?” Zack asked.

“You guys weren’t getting anywhere with what those guys were saying- Gareth please I’m gonna puke if you keep shaking me!” you said, and Eddie came to your rescue, pulling the drummer off you.

His arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in close. “We should be thanking her. She’s our biggest fan and she knew that the best way to get us out of our heads was to piss us off.”

“I’m just glad it worked. I was really worried that I’d just make you all mad at me instead.” you admitted.

“We’ll forgive you this time.” Jeff laughed.

“So now what do we do?” Zack asked. “We just wait for them to call us back?”

“Basically.” Eddie said. “This is gonna be the waiting game for a while. Paige said that they’re still setting up the real studio.”

“The real studio?!” Zack stared at Eddie with his jaw hanging open.

“I’m sorry, was that a fucking fake studio?” Gareth stared hard at Eddie. “Were we playing for a bunch of fake men in fake suits with fake notes?!”

��No, Gareth the Great, that’s not what happened.” Eddie used his free hand to ruffle the younger kids' curls. “Paige is setting up a studio for Left Turn media around here. She said it won’t be done until next summer.”

“Dammit, I was hoping that meant we could quit school and focus on the music like you said the first time.” Jeff laughed.

You looked at Eddie with a raised eyebrow and he shot Jeff a look. “If I have to stick with it, so do all of you.” He said firmly.

“Dammit.” Gareth muttered.

A chilled gust of wind cut through you like a knife and you found yourself moving closer to Eddie to steal his warmth and he pulled you closer.

The drive to drop everyone off back at home in reality was filled with excitement as they all discussed what had just happened. Once they all remembered that you were watching from the other side of the booth, you were bombarded with questions on what the suits had said that they couldn’t hear. You answered everything as best as you could remember, still thinking about how Paige had admitted jealousy towards you of all people. Of course, that’s not something that they would actually care about.

“They said you all look like shit.” you said from the front seat. “But I think that was a good thing. When you guys were sucking they said you sounded like a high school marching band.”

This critique was met with yelling and denial but you held your hands up. “Don’t look at me, I’m just a fly on the wall. They shut up pretty fast when you got your shit together though. Also the one in the tan suit liked your cover of Highway to Hell. That scored you points because it was his favorite song.”

By the time you all entered Hawkins again, they had exhausted every last ounce of information from you. Talks of the audition had been exchanged for dreams of grandeur and what it would be like to be big time rockstars. One by one the band was dropped off, hope in their eyes with the idea that this was the start of something big.

Once at your apartment, Eddie collapsed on the sofa face first. You smiled and went to the kitchen and brought him a beer. It took a bit of coaxing but he finally sat up and took a long drink from the bottle and smiled at you.

“Holy shit.” he said.

“Holy shit.” you echoed.

“I feel like I’m on top of the world and like I just walked all the way to Mordor.” Eddie shook his head, that smile never fading.

“Nerd.” you said affectionately, leaning against him. “You did great, Eddie. I’m really proud of you.”

“Yeah?” he looked into your eyes. “I’m... I’m proud of me, too.”

“You should be, you kicked ass.” You smiled at him. “And they’re gonna come back with a million dollar deal where you get to keep your master copies, get insane royalties, and get you set up with a world tour right away. You’re gonna chart at number one for weeks and you’ll get so popular everyone’s gonna get sick of you within two months.”

Eddie let out a laugh “Everyone’s already sick of me.”

“See? You’re already ahead of schedule. Good for you.” Eddie just laughed and shook his head. “...Not everyone is sick of you.”

Eddie’s hand moved to the back of your neck and rubbed the skin there absently, making goosebumps prickle your skin. “Most of this town is.” He said after a while.

“Most isn’t all.” you countered. “I’m not sick of you.”

“A brave woman. You should get a medal for dating the town freak. Most girls run away screaming by now.” He joked.

“Pfff, you wish you were as scary as your reputation. I’ve been more intimidated by suburban moms at Family Video.”

“Sweetheart, you’re hurting my feelings.” He set his beer down and pulled you in closer. “If word gets out that I’m not the mean satanic spawn everyone thinks I am, then no one will take my music seriously.”

“I’d make fun of you and point out that you put a lot of D&D references in your songs, but I’ll be nice.”

“I’d hope my girlfriend would be nice to me.” There was a waiver in the keyword in his sentence that you didn’t miss.

Your heart made a weird thumping movement in your chest and you stared at him. “...Girlfriend?” You managed to choke out.

Eddie stared at you for a moment, looking as though he had royally screwed up. You felt that arm around you twitch as he decided if he should pull away or not.

“Yeah I uh...” he stumbled. “Thought maybe since you weren’t seeing anyone else and I wasn’t seeing anyone else-”

“I’d love to.” you said, your whole body felt like fireworks were going off. “I mean, if you’re good with it. I just assumed you’d at least keep me around as a groupie.”

Eddie doubled over laughing, his hair moving wildly as he shook his head. “Groupie implies that I’m going to share you with the band, and there is no way in hell I’m doing that.”

“Oh good!” you let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Because, between you and me, Gareth is just a tad young for me.”

“Not into Juniors?” Eddie asked.

“I generally don’t date high school students at all, but there are exceptions to every rule.” you said, crawling onto his lap and straddling him. His hands moved to rest on your hips and he looked up at you.

“Listen about that I-” he started, but you cut him off.

“I’m not gonna judge.” you said. “I had summer school every single year of middle school and sophomore year. It doesn’t change anything.”

Eddie kept staring at you and took a deep breath. “...I sell drugs.”

Ok, that wasn’t what you were expecting. You stared at him blankly and looked him over. “What do you sell?”

“Are you looking to make a deal, or should I be careful how I answer that?”

“I’m just looking for honesty.” you said.

“Weed mostly.” Eddie ran one of his hands through his hair, his rings getting tangled in the curls for a moment. He struggled to break free as he continued. “Bennies... Special K....”

“I take it that’s not a breakfast cereal.” you said, helping him free his tresses from the heavy rings.

“No, not exactly.” Despite his wry answer, there was quiet laughter in his voice.

“I guess it could be worse.” you said.

“I just want you to know who I am before getting into something you might not want.” Eddie said, his fingers messing with the fabric on your thighs now that they were free from his hair.

“Eddie,” you cupped his jaw and looked at him. “I like you. You like me. Stop trying to get me to dump you 2 minutes after calling me your girlfriend.”

“Shit, sorry.” He sighed. “Yeah, I’m being a total dumbass right now, aren’t I?”

“Only a little.” You dropped your hands onto his shoulders.

“I know I’m not exactly the biggest catch. I’m a 6th year senior who’s already dropped out once, and a lot of people here think I'm some sort of Devil worshiper.” Eddie leaned back on the couch. “I’m just saying that dating me might not be the easiest.”

“I’m in if you are.” you said, leaning over him, letting your fingers slide down his chest slowly. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw the doubt in his eyes immediately turn into Boy Brain at your wandering digits. “Are you in?”

His eyes darted down to your hands and then to your eyes and then to your lips. It was a little funny seeing him struggle internally with what you were offering.

Eddie blinked and snapped out of that daze for a moment before nodding. “I’m in.”

“Good.” you leaned in and kissed him. “No take backs.”

Eddie leaned up and met your lips in another kiss, deeper than before. His arms moved from your hips to slide around your waist and pulled you closer. You moved your hands back up to wrap around his neck so you could press your body against his.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, losing yourselves in each other as the rest of the word seemed to disappear. When you felt his hand slowly slide up your torso, stopping just below your breast, he pulled back and looked at you.

“Is this uh... do you mind if...?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at how surprisingly polite he was being. The two of you had made out a few times, but hadn’t exactly taken that next step yet. Not that you hadn’t wanted to, and by the way you shifted and felt that insistent tent in his pants you didn’t think he’d have any objections.

“Do you want to take this to my room?” you asked. “You can stay here tonight, if you want.”

Eddie’s expression shifted into a sly smile. “Normally, I’d ask you to buy me dinner first, but you did that already a few times over.”

“Well, then I guess you owe me a few times over.” you smirked.

“Good thing we have all night.” Eddie stood up as you slipped off of his lap, taking your hand in his.

“Think you can go all night? Sure you aren’t wiped out from your big audition?” You teased him as you led him to your room.

“Well, according to you I’m a hotshot rock god who’s about to go on a world tour.” Eddie closed the door and followed you to your bed where you laid down. He pulled his shirt off and crawled on top of you, the pick around his neck sticking to his skin. “If I can jump around on stage for hours and satisfy a stadium of adoring fans I’m sure I can satisfy my girlfriend.”

“I like the sound of that.” you said, before pulling him into a deep kiss.

Outside, a layer of snow started to dust the ground, but thee two of you had no trouble keeping warm for the rest of the night.

a/n: I had a very long think about whether or not to add smut to this story and came to the unfortunate conclusion that it felt weird to add after such a chaste story. HOWEVER, with the series coming to a close within the next 2-3 chapters, I do plan on writing a few side stories. If you all ask REALLY NICE (ie: If at least one person says it lol) I will write smut for Eddie and Reader as a one shot.

We're really coming up on the end here, folks. I really can't believe that you all have stuck around this long. It's been almost a year since I started this story, and I really can't wait to see how this all wraps up! Yes, I know I'm the author, but that means absolutely nothing.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

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