#watching his man smash a watermelon with his thighs makes him trip and fall

[jnlletrry]

I'm imagining Andrew, encouraged by his publicist to be more active on social media, smashing a watermelon with his thighs.

[neocity-sarai]

Under the Lights

۞ mark lee x reader (based on my fic “fight for you”) 

۞ alerts: kissing, spicy dancing, language, angst (thank you for 200 followers. that’s just a number that doesn’t amount to how much true support I have received. seriously, thank you!)

۞  inspired by this lovely edit made by @/kpopmood on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZV4rvsaB0hE&t=12s (please go check out the creator’s videos!) 

It’s funny how the night time used to be your favorite part of the day. It’s the way the moon would shine, casting it’s light on the rippled puddles in these streets, colors would bounce off the artificial rainfall and on all the glowing city sign boards. That was how it was. Walking through the city would make your heart swell with excitement- how everything was immersed in a pool of technicolor, eyes bright with adventure. That’s because he was there. Mark. Mark Lee. The boy who saved you from some homeless man that was trying to hit on you. He looked so noble then, doe eyes gazing at you, lips curled into a smile. It always replays in your mind, the memory of the way your cheek feels on Mark’s shoulder. The way that his warm, soft lips feel on yours as people bustle along the city streets below you. The way he’d play his guitar and his singing voice as you drifted off to sleep. Every time the night overtakes the sun, he’s all the runs in your mind. It’s like a cycle that never really ends even when you’re awake and doing something else. Now, you’re all alone again. That night that Mark died. His crimson blood stained on your hands. It never really washes off. You spent months blaming yourself, blaming yourself for the loss of the one person you never wanted to lose. Foolishly, you thought you could fix it. Kynigos had inputted a function into everyone’s headsets that you could leap into different time periods, view memories, and create an all encapsulating virtual environment all stemmed from your mind. That’s what you used to get to know Mark better, seeing the inside of his life. It’s what made you fall in love with him, this innocent, handsome dork.

[months earlier]

Are you sure about this?

You laugh, “I want to dance, silly!”

You waste no time, grabbing Mark’s hand. It was Haechan’s birthday, Mark’s best friend. Of course, you had met Mark’s other friends in the meantime too. Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin were already wasted drunk in the bar that you were at and downing several shots of liquor didn’t help your case either. The bar was a wide space, strobe lights of violets, indigos, and red beat to the pump of the music as virtual dancers twirled their ribbons in light cages. Other strangers gathered around the bar, clamoring to dance and to drink. Normally, you’d never go to a place like this but somehow, Haechan had convinced you to have fun with the group anyway. You couldn’t say no. 

You were dressed in a pretty outfit, makeup to match the sequins of the giant disco ball, and it makes Mark gulp nervously every time you would brush arms. He was dressed in a nice satin shirt and some jeans, complete with his favorite pair of dress shoes. Mark doesn’t budge when you try to pull him to the dance floor, staring down at your hand clamped over his. You turn back at him, “Is everything okay?”

Mark nods almost too violently, “Yeah! I’m just- surprised is all.”

You have to shout over the bass that shakes the floor and makes the tiles glow a million colors, “Surprised over what?!”

Mark shakes his head, “I don’t know how to dance well!”

You slap him in the back, “It’s fine, come on!”

By the time you squeeze your way through all the people, you try to pay no mind to the girls who are dancing on their dates or the drunkards who are dancing alone. You start to move your body, rolling and moving your hips to beat of the song innocently. Mark stands still, watching you as he moves shyly, trying to wiggle to the beat too. Others may laugh but you think he has his own charm. He laughs along with you, fingers covering his eyes because of how embarrassed he is. With the alcohol that runs in your veins, you stop moving, pulling him closer, “Just relax, Mark.”

He stops too, eyes widened from your proximity, “I-okay.”

You put your arms around Mark’s neck and you notice how he bites his red lip, eyes fluttering everywhere, “Can I, uh-”

You take it upon yourself to guide his clammy hands onto your hips, his touch surges electricity down your spine but try hard not to show it. Finally, you feel Mark relax next to you as he lets out a sigh when he rests his forehead against yours. You chuckle, moving together in syncopation, “See, you got it.”

Mark smiles, eyebrows raised, “Only because you’re leading.”

Then, your friends find you both in the middle of the extremely crowded, sweaty dance floor and you can tell because of Haechan’s drunk yells and Jaemin’s curses when he can’t stand up straight. The lights fade from a multitude of colors to a stark violet shade, the song switching tempos to a slower, more sensual beat. It sparks heat on your body, fingers craving for wild touches and the boy who’s in front of you. Being Mark, he panics a little, caught off guard by the sudden change in atmosphere. Because he lets go of you, you can’t but feel disappointment. Jeno, drunk off strawberry smirnoff and lime margaritas swings you around to him, “Come on, y/n! Dance with me!”

You laugh, tripping over your own heels. Still, you jump up and down with Jeno and the rest of the boys, riding the beat along with them as people begin to dance on top of you. Everything is blurry and it feels like you’re losing yourself into blinding light, your hair sticking to your skin from how hot it is. You let the music run through you, wracking through your body. You almost don’t realize that Mark is standing by you all as he watches you, Jeno, and Renjun. Mark looks away, fists curled into his palms. His lips are slightly pouted, his perfectly styled hair becoming more messy. So, you tread back to him, pushing past all the girls who glare at you for interrupting their energies, but you don’t care. 

“Is everything okay? We can get out of here if you want-”

Mark stares at you, wasting no time to pull you flushed against his chest, his hand protectively flat against the small of your back, “Why are you dancing with him when you were dancing with me?”

You realize that Mark’s tone is deeper than before, his shy attitude abandoned before you can respond to his command, “We just kind of got caught in the moment, I’m really sor-”

Mark’s lips barely brush past your ear, he growls a little, “Be close to me, y/n. I want you right here.”

You’re startled by Mark’s sudden shift in attitude, it makes you shiver from the thought. 

“Okay.”

So you both let yourselves go. You dance with Mark, letting him twirl you under the lights and you swing your hips against him, not actually having danced with anyone like this before. Mark groans from your body against his, his fingers curled tight on your hips. The bass shakes your bodies, rumbling through the atmosphere like earthquakes and even though your feet are numb, you still keep going. Then, Mark spins you around so you’re facing him, “Let’s go.”

Before you can reply, he’s whisking you out of the bar and out of the virtual portkey at the entrance. Suddenly, you’re back on Everlane street which is the street where you and Mark had first met. Outside, the night sky is covered with a net of swirling stars and cars zoom across the sky overhead. Robots advertise menus for the cafes and restaurants that line the sidewalk, romantics happening on every corner. The breeze in the night smells sweet, bringing back the flood of memories. Mark begins to lead you into the double doors of his 3 story apartment, reaching in his jean pocket for his keys. You follow him up the stairs, entering the living room that is familiar to you. The apartment feels like Mark. It’s a studio apartment, the furniture beiges and whites, the carpets a light grey. Just as Mark throws his keys onto the counter, he grabs you by the shoulders, his hands warm on your skin, “I’m sorry if I acted weird back there. I was just looking forward to dancing with you and drunk ass Jeno swept you away…”

Mark’s eyes are sad, his lips pouted as you bring your hand to the curve of his cheek, “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

Mark jokingly frowns, “I think I would’ve gone crazy if they touched you.”

You laugh, “I love you. Nobody else, okay?”

Then Mark presses his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around the waist of your dress where you ribbon belt is tied before smashing his lips against yours. You stumble back on your heels, your back and Mark’s hands against the rim of the counter like he’s trapping you in. You run your hand through Mark’s silver hair, drunk off the cologne that he wears. Mark bites down on your lip, making you groan. You mumble on his lips, “You’re not upset right?”

Mark chuckles, running his hand along your thigh and moving down to press kisses to your neck, “What if I said that I was?”

You tug on Mark’s hair, you’re absolutely breathless, “You shouldn’t be. There’s no reason to.”

Mark pulls your ribboned belt, letting it fall to the floor on a pile, “Shouldn’t you prove it to me then?”

Mark goes back to kissing your lips and you mumble, “How should I do that?”

And expecting him to take things further, Mark reaches behind you for something in his coin bowl that’s shaped like a watermelon slice. You pull away from his lips, staring at the pair of keys he has in his hand. Mark jangles them, “Y/n, would you like to move in with me?”

You eye him with shock, “Wait- did you just- wait, for real?”

Mark nods, “I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now, just didn’t know when.”

“So you’re asking now?!”

Mark smiles a toothy grin, threatening to burst into laughter, “Yes?”

You smile into your hands, “I’d love to.”

Launching yourself into Mark’s arms, he catches you, kissing you with fervor once more. 

[current time]

Tomorrow, you had a mission. Ever since Mark’s been gone, you and the boys have been working to clear levels and gain more skills. You swore to yourself that even though you couldn’t bring Mark back, you didn’t want men like Mr. C going around killing people. Everyone calls them the Underground, a mafia-like organization that tries to take advantage of the Kynigos system and force kids to do their dirty work so they don’t get caught. They rob people of their points, their skills so that they can become more powerful. They don’t have morals and they don’t care either. So, you and the rest of the boys formed the Right Compass, an organization of hyper-intelligent headset users to combat the Underground. Renjun and Jaemin are in charge of the tech, Chenle and Jisung are in charge of outreach and recruitment, and you and Jeno are the honorary agents. Besides Mark, you trusted the boys more than anyone else. After Mark’s passing, it brought you closer together-- forming the Right Compass in Mark’s name. 

Your mission was that the government had sent an infiltrator spy to scout the Underground levels, to crack down where the heart of the organization is. No one knows and that’s why you and the boys have been tracking leads since you first knew about it. There’s some sightings, maybe a cloudy witness here and there but nothing definite. Your mission was to find the undercover spy and convince them to do a covert operation with the Right Compass. You wanted them to see how strong you were as a united front and how many members had solved crimes, big or small. You and Jeno had packed light. You had dressed in all black so that you could blend into the shadows, your beam-powered guns strapped to your holster. 

Jeno nods at you, his glass-lenses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he coats them with invisibility spray. You do the same, it makes you both less noticeable. You nod, hopping up on your hoverboard as Jeno does the same, shooting up into the sky. You ride your board over the city, the lights glowing under you as people who walk the streets look like tiny ants from your view. Jeno goes first, his tall figure blasting into an emerald portal that opens up in the middle of the sky. You follow him, being swallowed by green light as you’re both transported to the Underground levels. Everything looks starkly different in the Underground. It’s like a black hole, the streets are covered in grime and trash, alleyways shrouded in secrets. Everyone’s cloaked as they walk along the bars that are locked with passwords and gambling shacks, dog fights happen on every corner. You’re reminded of why people don’t come here, at least good people don’t. Jeno motions you over, pointing at a ledge on a roof, “Land over there, turn on shadow mode.”

You do as he says, your body disappearing into the dark sky that’s as black as charcoal, no stars glow overhead. When you and Jeno land, you scoff, “It’s filthy here, why would people want to live in a place like this?”

Jeno presses a button on his hoverboard that makes it condense into a cube like a transformer as he shoves it in his pocket, “It’s the Underground. People don’t come here for fun, y/n. Well they do, just not the good kind.”

You nod, “Where’s the lead this time?”

Jeno opens his map on his wristwatch that Renjun built for him, the map appearing as a scan of the entire area. “Well, for starters after tracking the government’s traces, there’s been a link at this bar. There’s someone in there who can help us to find the undercover agent.”

“Let’s go then.”

Climbing down from the ledge, you and Jeno disguise yourselves with outfits that make it seem you belong, tattoos cover Jeno’s arms and you tease him at how it suits him. He smiles, pulling you close to him as you both make your way to a dark sector of alleyways. You pull the rim of your hat down, careful to not show your face. You can’t risk being caught, or even worse, killed. As you pass, burly men who smell of cigars eye you with contempt. Women who have several layers of makeup and ripped outfits glare at you but stare atJeno with hungry eyes and it makes you intertwine your fingers with his. There’s a tone of surprise in his low voice, “Everything alright?”

You nod, keeping your head down, “Just fine. Just blending in.”

You try to ignore the rapid beating in your heart. Half because it’s Jeno and the other half being you haven’t forgotten about Mark and it makes you feel guilty. 

You finally stop at the entrance of the bar, the stench of smoke and vodka making your eyes burn. A blue dial pad appears on the door, the number turning. Surprisingly, Jeno enters a code with nimble fingers, the lock becoming undone right in front of you. Jeno turns back to you, “Don’t drink anything and don’t talk to anyone. I’ll handle the talking. If anything happens, you run and get to the portal okay?”

You find yourself wanting to argue back but now isn’t the time. All you can do is agree. When you enter the establishment, it’s everything you expect it to be. Big men drink at the barstools, women play pool as they sip their beers, and the bar is decorated with oriental decorations. A woman struts in front of you, walking like a feline as she runs her long nails against the skin of Jeno’s bare arms and it makes you grimace. He smiles with his eyes, adjusting his black turtleneck up to his nose. You think he looks like an undercover ninja rather than an agent. Jeno walks towards a red velvet curtain by the side, pulling it to reveal people making love to each other on the velvet booths and you can’t feel any more uncomfortable. Jeno doesn’t really have an expression. He walks to the clerk booth, speaking to an asian woman who’s applying eyeliner on her lids.

“Are you Misty Kinazawa? We’re looking for Ghostboy.” 

The woman doesn’t answer. She wears a red oriental dress, jewels hang off her bun as she annoyingly chews her gum with a smack. You and Jeno look at each other in confusion, growing impatient. Finally, she sets her mirror down in irritation, “I don’t go by Misty anymore. It’s Rae now. And who are you?”

Jeno looks around before tugging down the edge of his sleeve to show her the compass tattoo on his wrist, “Right Compass. We spoke on the phone.”

Rae cackles, “Ah right- those kids who promised to pay me right? Ghostboy’s probably here somewhere, check in the back room.”

Jeno pulls out a wad of cash from his jacket pocket, “Thanks Rae. Have a nice night.”

Rae scoffs, counting the bills as she cocks her head in the direction of the back room. You and Jeno pass by the sex club and you swear that you would have torn your eyes out if youweren’t on a mission. Entering the back room, Jeno sweeps away a suede emerald curtain and what you find behind it is insane. The entryway opens up into a humongous warehouse room, submerged underwater. It’s a huge floating cube of water, filled with a large crowd of club-goers. It reminds you of that night, that night when Mark had pulled you close. Jeno rubs his temples, “How the fuck are we going to find an undercover agent in this crowd?”

“Let’s split up, cover more ground. Meet back up here?”

Jeno looks at you with concern, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah- have more faith in me. I can take care of myself.”

Jeno nods, “Okay. Meet back here right after. We’re tagged so just ping my location on your wristwatch and I’ll come find you.” 

You both enter the cube, the music transitioning from muffles to blaring electronic sounds, sweaty bodies crashing into you like a vortex. Jeno heads left so you head right. You remember looking at Ghostboy’s file, he’s supposed to be wearing a gold armband. His frame is medium height, yet you don’t know what his face looks like. Jeno’s right, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. You start by weaving through the bodies, girls falling into you from being too drunk. Even though everything is underwater, you find that you can still breathe. Must be why a virtual world is most desirable, technology can do everything.

People get in your way, boys hooting and hollering at you, trying to rip off your cloak. You swat them away, trading through the ocean of bodies. The music makes your head hurt, the air becoming suffocating to you. The smell of various drugs permeates, making you want to vomit. Still, you keep going. You look for the gold armband in a blur of blue, keeping your hand on your gun under your coat. You hear Jeno’s voice through your headset, “I can’t find him! Any luck on your side?” 

You scream into your voice function, “No! I can’t! It’s too loud and there’s too many people!”

Before you turn away, you see someone. There’s someone who stands a few feet away from you,  shrouded in a white outfit but a mask for a face. They call it a virtual glamour, to disguise the real person’s face. From the looks of it, the person- male it looks like he’s staring right at you. You scream at Jeno, “Wait- there’s someone! I’m following them!”

“Wait for me!”

You hang up on Jeno, pinging him your location as you make your way to the person. They turn tail and run and you leap over drunk people who have crashed to the ground as you try not to lose them. Finally, you chase the person through a series of tapestries until you reach the back exit. Shoving the door open, you enter back onto the street, glancing around for the mysterious vigilante. 

Then, in an instant, the white clothed figure points a gun at you, “Who the hell are you?”

It happens like oil being added to fire, exploding your heart into a million rapid beats, making your knees grow weak. That voice. That voice. You hold your hands up, turning to face them, trying to see through the glamor. Like a glitch, the glamor flickers in and out and it takes your breath away.

 The face that you see is identical to Mark’s.

“I asked, who are you?”

You fall to the ground weakly, your hand curling in the dirt, “How is this possible- there’s no way- no, I saw you die that night! this isn’t real!

”You start to wail, “Mark! It’s me! Y/n!”

Mark raises his eyebrow in fury, “Who?! How do you know my name?! Where are you from?!”

He doesn’t recognize you. Is it really him? But he looks exactly the same. His eyes, his lips, his cheeks. His frame. It’s all the same. 

You point your gun at him, starting to sob, “Mark- please! It’s me!”

In an instant, Jeno yanks open the door, his hand flying to his gun the moment he sees you and a boy pointing handguns at each other. You scream, “Jeno, don’t shoot!”

Jeno puts his gun up, making his way to you by putting a protective stance in front of you. But that’s when it dawns on him, who is he staring at? The face of his brother, his best friend, his comrade on the streets from childhood. Jeno screams at him, his ears burning red from the cold, “Who are you?! Why are you using Mark’s face as a glamor! Show yourself impostor!”

Mark knits his eyebrows together, unclipping his white cloak, revealing a cyber-kinetic arm that’s sparking with electricity and tiny wires. The gears in it churn with gold ropes, the circle on Mark’s palm glowing red, “I don’t know who you people are, but tonight will be your last night alive!”

Just when Jeno is about to pull the trigger, you shove him, the bullet ricocheting off the ground. You launch your whole body in front of Mark, even though you’re tripping over yourself and with your whole heart you shove your necklace in his face. It’s a portrait of you and Mark from back then, a gift from Mark for your birthday. 

Tears are streaming down your face and you swear that your heart is going to burst from how fast it’s going, “Please! Just listen to us, please. I need you to see.”

You grip the chain of the necklace, watching his expression fade from anger to confusion. He runs the pad of his thumb on the picture, “It seems that this is me. But how-”

You shake your head wildly, “I don’t know. But don’t you get it? you used to know us! You used to know me!”

Mark shakes his head, “This is impossible, I work for an organization. I always have. I’m a machine! I would have never crossed paths with you.”

You look back at Jeno, and you see him shake. He treads slowly towards you, “Don’t you want to find out? You have two options. You can kill us now or find out what happened. We’re your only lead.”

Mark lowers his arm, the fire in his palm dimming, “I don’t wish to find out because I assume what you’re saying is some made up scenario. I suggest we don’t run into each other in the future. I won’t be so merciful.”

Like that, Mark swings his white cape on, hiding his face under his hood. He types in a code that appears in front of him, a white motorcycle appearing in its place. Hopping on, he speeds way down the street, leaving you and Jeno alone in the musty night. Tears stain your cheeks, “I have to go after him, Jeno. I don’t expect you to follow me.”

Jeno stands next to you, putting an arm around your shoulder, “We. We’re going after him. We have to.” 

You and Jeno hop back on your hoverboards, disappearing into the dark.