#spidermark

[weeeeeekly]

“are you okay?” – mark lee x gn!reader

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blurb On Earth-127, Mark is an ordinary biomed major at Neo Culture Institute of Technology, but when he’s not studying for class, he’s out saving New York City as Spider-Man. The job is hard, but he manages it. It also doesn’t hurt that his new friend is just his type.

But instead of a sweet confession to Mark you decide to tease his masked persona.

info no afab/fem mention, mainly gender neutral, no reader body shape mention, no use of Erika, swearing, non-idol au, college au, college student!mark, spiderman!mark (obvi), reader is assigned lactose intolerant. johnny & jaehyun as mark’s besties. mark & reader are 22 and johnny & jaehyun are 24. everyone else is 21. ft. 00 line of nct/riize as frat bros. loosely based off a combo of the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house, 200 music video, & superman ii

WARNINGS!!! NSFW but MDNI 18+ blog, VERY explicit in this bonus chapter compared to the main story, gender neutral language, use of “hole”, swearing, mentions of violence, dirty talk, praise kink maybe, reader & mark are experienced, reader receives oral, cowgirl/riding position, soft dom!reader, sub!mark, not proofread just pure free flowing thought

wc 2.3k

author’s note !! you can read this without reading the main story, but it might flow better if you read the entire thing

blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff

this is FICTION!!!!! everything is made up by me or inspired by the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house video, & mark’s 200 music video. the stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned. also, prob not accurate to real life counterparts – idk sex.

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You’re sitting on Haechan’s bed next to Mark as Haechan is duct taped to his gaming chair.

Haechan smirks, “I’ve had this dream before. Less clothes though.”

Rolling your eyes, you get up to grab the duct tape.

“Oh? So, this is what you’re into.”

“I’m going to tape your mouth shut.”

Haechan lets out an exaggerated moan as you rip a piece off to shut him up.

“This isn’t Challengers.”

Mark sits uncomfortably on the edge of the bed as you sit back down. Haechan continues staring at you both as you wait for Jeno and Jaemin to come back upstairs to babysit.

Turning to Mark, “I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you something, but it’s going to have to wait because somebody decided it was a good idea to get on the fucking roof while drunk.”

Haechan rolls his eyes at your jab at him. Mark nods at you as you stare into his beautiful brown eyes.

The door opens as 2J, Jeno and Jaemin, walk in with armfuls of snacks.

“Party’s here.”

“Okay, we’re going to head out now. See you guys tomorrow.”

The two of you find Johnny and Jaehyun beating Renjun and Shotaro at beer pong. A crowd of party goers cheering J² on. Holding Mark’s hand, you nudge Johnny to see if he was ready to leave.

“Yeah, I can take you home right after this game.” Johnny tells you as he sinks another ball into a cup making Shotaro drink again.

“Or we could walk to our apartment.” Mark suggests. “It’s a 5-minute walk.”

You two ending up walking to Mark’s shared apartment with J². He fills you in about a project he was having trouble with in one of his classes.

When you make it to apartment 721, Mark gives you a tour of the place. The kitchen and living room when you first walk in, Mark’s room to the left next to the bathroom and Johnny and Jaehyun’s rooms to the right. Mark’s room was cozy, decorated with pictures of friends and family, an acoustic guitar leaning against a dresser, a small tv, piano, a Canadian flag on the wall next to his closet, and his bed facing the giant window.

“So,” Mark starts as he closes his door behind you, “You wanted to tell me something.”

You take a deep breath as you begin, “I’ve got a lot to say so please hear me out for its entirety. Mark, I have a crush on you. I thought you were cute the first time I saw you after that basketball almost took me out. I was so excited when we ended up sharing a class together and you sat next to me the next class after we met. Then when you comforted me after Spider-Man saved me. That was the moment I knew that I liked you. I like you, Mark. Maybe even more than that.”

Mark looks to you with an endearing look in his eyes. He opens his mouth to respond to your heartfelt confession to him. You watch as his mouth suddenly shuts and his eyes narrow as his attention veers off.

“Mark?”

You take a step in his direction when the sound of sirens approaching distracts you. Both of you look out the window to see 2 firetrucks zoom past the building and in the direction of a nearby bank that was on fire. Mark turns on his tv to the local news channel showing live footage of a person dressed exactly like Spider-Man, but in black and white.

“That’s not Spider-Man…”

You turn to look at Mark but he’s not there. The window is wide open, and you’re left alone in his room. A minute later, Spider-Man shows up on the tv throwing a trash can at the villain.

You were 100% sure that Mark was Spider-Man now.

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The sound of Mark’s window opening wakes you up from the nap you ended up taking while waiting for him to get back. You stay as still as possible in the dark room as you watch him, clothed in his suit, stumble inside. He lets out a groan as he clutches his right side.

Gripping the edge of his sheets, you watch as he sits down on the edge of his bed. You take this opportunity to throw the sheets on him as you cling to him like a koala to a bamboo tree. Mark is caught off guard as he stumbles around his room trying to get the sheet off himself. You manage to pin him to the ground as he trips over your bag near his bed.

Successfully duct taping his hands and legs to his body, you bring him to the bathroom. Mark, or Spider-Man, stays silent as you sit him down on the toilet.

“I know you’re injured so is it okay if you tell me where so I can treat it?”

“Y-you just kidnapped me.”

“Is it really kidnapping if I never took you to a secondary location? Don’t answer that.”

“Can I have Spider-Man’s consent to administer first aid?”

“Yeah.”

You quickly work on washing his hands where his suit had been torn. Mark only lets out only a hiss when you apply saline before applying a bandage.

You giggle to yourself as you think about one of your dream scenarios — You walking to your room and complaining, “Oh no, wouldn’t it be terrible if there was a hot, sexy shirtless guy tied up who was whimpering and crying with a beaten, bloody face.” And Spider-Mark, with only boxers and his mask on, bruised and bloody from winning a fight and tied to the bed.

You and Haechan did have a similar fantasy and he was technically right, but you would never tell him that. You couldn’t have his ego inflate anymore than it already is.

“What’s, ow, so funny?”

“Just thinking… do you need an ice pack or something?”

“No, I’ll be healed in a bit.”

“Woah – like super healing?” 

He nods as you continue looking over the torn or burnt parts of his suit for any more injuries. Thankfully, Mark doesn’t have any serious wounds that would need a proper medical professional because you doubt he would let you take him to the hospital in full red and blue spandex get up. Especially since you’re not supposed to know his secret identity.

It wasn’t your fault that you were able to piece it together due to knowing him.

“Okay, you’re done Spidey.” You pat his shoulder as you turn to wash your hands again. “I can’t believe I was able to take you by surprise! Me – a regular civilian.”

“My spidey sense didn’t go off because you’re not a threat.” He huffs as you walk him back to his bed.

“I can be threatening.”

Mark laughs at this.

If you hadn’t realized before, then hearing Mark’s signature laugh would knock it into you. This is the laugh you love to hear. The laugh you try your best to hear every day. It’s one of his best qualities.

He plops down on the bed as you stand above him, trying your best to quell the absolutely batshit inappropriate thoughts you’re currently having.

“What’s with that look on your face?”

You force a neutral look as you bite back the smile fighting its way. “What look?”

Mark begins to say your name, but then he catches himself. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about my crush on you, Spider-Man.”

“And?”

“And,” You begin as you sit down at the edge of the bed. “how much I want to fuck him.”

The silence between the two of you is deafening, even the noise of car horns and yelling becomes faint. It feels like an eternity before Mark breaks the silence by ripping the duct tape and sheet prison you put him in. One second, he’s restrained, you blink, and next thing he’s free and cupping your face with his hands.

Honestly, you’re turned on more because the fact that he let you duct tape when he has heightened levels of strength speaks volumes.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, a million times yes.

Mark scoots closer to you as you smile at him.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you bring your lips next to his ear and emphasize each word, “I need to fuck you.”

Next thing you know, Mark is pining you down as he hovers above you. You smile at him as see Mark falter for a bit.

“It’s going to be hard to kiss you through your mask.”

“I can’t take it off.”

“That’s okay, I’ll kiss you elsewhere.”

Freeing your dominant hand, you drag your hand from his neck to his crotch, the fabric tight around his length. Your hand cups his dick as he lets out a gasp.

“You know the traffic light colors.”

“Mhmm.”

“If you’re okay with this…” You hover your hand, pausing the teasing you were doing.

“Green.”

“Great!“

You lick your lips as Mark brings your hands back to his body. Your free hand takes off the top part of your outfit as you continue palming him.

“Wait, let me take off my suit.”

Lying back on his bed, Mark taps the Spider logo on his suit causing the spandex costume to loosen around him. He takes off the suit in one piece just leaving him in his mask and matching red and blue boxer briefs.

“Cute.”

You can bet that he’s blushing under the mask.

You can bet that he’s blushing under his mask, and you want nothing more than to see it.

In response, you stand up to take off the rest of your outfit leaving you almost bare for him, just the thin barrier of underwear stopping direct skin to skin contact. You settle back on top of him and continue your palming on his boner as your other hand plays with the elastic of his boxers.

Mark breathes out a shaky “Wait.”

You pause tilting your head to the side in confusion removing your hand. You kept silent as Mark readjusts his position to have his body on his bed with his head leaning down. He looks up at you as he removes the bottom of his mask off.

“I need to taste you.”

Well, you certainly weren’t going to pass him up on that offer. You stand in between his face as Mark spreads your legs open and rests his hands on your ass.

“Do you – ohmygod – want me to also help you?” You throw your head back as he begins kissing your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry about me.” He speaks between kisses, “Let me take care of you.”

Moaning in response, Mark slowly begins giving you head. Taking his time to lick every inch of your hole making you hold his shoulders to steady yourself from the pleasure. You want to keep talking to him, but you cannot form a single coherent thought as Mark brings you closer to cumming.

Marks begins humming as he continues working magic with his mouth allowing you to cum with his tongue.

He moves his head away from you as he helps you sit back on the bed due to your legs shaking.

“Damn.”

“You liked that, huh?”

“Don’t be cocky but speaking of cock.” You smirk as you reach over to his crotch and lightly squeeze.

Mark moans in response and lays his hand on top of yours removing your hand.

“How did you recover so quickly?”

“Built differently.” You say as you straddle his thighs, centimeters away from the one thing you want inside you. “You got a condom?”

He nods as he holds one up. You’re not sure where he got it maybe used a web to get it or something.

Shaking the thought away, Mark rolls the condom on his erect dick. You allow him to hold your hips as you sink down on him, your eyes rolling back with each inch you take.

“Fuck.”

Letting a gasp out when you finally take all of him inside you. The stretch hurting a bit, but you begin sloppily making out with Mark as you allow him to rock your hips rhythmically. You can taste yourself and it almost makes it hotter when you begin biting on his bottom lip causing Mark to whimper. This gets you going more as you ride him faster hoping to have you both cum at the same time.

“You work so hard saving people.” Pausing to have your tongue explore the inside of his mouth more. “You deserve to get rewarded.”

His hands grip your ass as his hips start to stutter, signaling to you that he’s almost there. You start kissing his neck and when you feel the pressure building up inside you, you raise your hips to the tip of him and slam down as you pull his body flush against yours.

“Cum for me.”

Mark lets out a deep groan as he cums into the condom as he hugs your waist. You allow yourself to ride out your high before you become overstimulated.

Smiling at him, Mark helps you get off him and back on his bed. You lay next to him as you both slow your breathing back to normal. The silence of the room is broken by a notification from your phone.

You had to go back to your dorm soon since you picked up an extra shift at the bookstore tomorrow morning.

Getting up, you grab your clothes and shoes to put them back on. Making sure to grab your bag with your phone inside.

Once you’re redressed, you climb back on the bed to straddle Mark’s thighs, kissing him one last time.

“Bye Mark, see you tomorrow!” You say as you pull his mask back down.

“W-what?”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Smiling at him, you close his door behind him as you walk past Johnny and Jaehyun passed out on the couch.

masterlist | main story

author’s note sorry i've been so busy. i got to see dream in concert recently & my pcd was so bad. i miss them. i miss mark!!! then i got busy with school & work, but now i'm free because of the hurricane. hopefully the power won't go out so i can write more.

does anyone else use head gender neutrally??? because I do. everyone gets head! you get head! you also get head!! also tell me why this took me forever to write the actual smut. i genuinely don’t know what i’m doing.

now “are you okay?” is done!!! woooo!! time to focus back on the inheritance, kinktober, & an untitled uni monster txt fic.

[chwepunk]

✷ ۪⋆. spidermark

[jaeyunluvbot]

ilysm (i love you spider-man)

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 mark lee x fem!reader, spidermark, friends to lovers, high school au, spiderman!mark

word count 𝟅𝟈 11.2k

NOT PROOFREAD

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High school wasn’t glamorous. It was 6:00 a.m. alarms, piles of homework, and gym class—a.k.a. your least favorite subject. So, when Coach called for volleyball that day, you sighed and shuffled towards the court like a prisoner headed for trial.

The gym smelled faintly of sweat and old rubber soles, the harsh lights making it hard to focus. You stood by the bleachers, tying your sneakers when Mark stumbled in, late as usual. His hair stuck up in odd places like he’d rolled out of bed and made a mad dash here. Classic.

“Lee!” Coach barked, tossing him a red jersey. “You’re on Team B. Let’s go!”

Mark jogged over, muttering apologies as he passed you. “Hey,” he said with a sheepish grin, his voice slightly breathless.

“Hey,” you replied, amused. “Rough morning?”

“You have no idea,” he mumbled, pulling the jersey over his head.

Mark was… Mark. Sweet, funny, always a little awkward. You’d known him since middle school, and while he wasn’t exactly the athletic type, you’d never really cared. You’d bonded over you bonded over your mutual interests, anyways, and volleyball was not on the list.

The game started, and you hung back like always, hoping to avoid the ball as much as possible. Mark, however, was front and center.

When the ball came his way, you winced, expecting it to bounce off his face or fly past him entirely. But instead, Mark jumped—higher than seemed possible—and spiked the ball with enough force to make it slam into the court.

Your jaw dropped.

“Whoa!” someone yelled.

Even Coach looked impressed. “Nice hit, Lee! Where’d you learn that?”

Mark shrugged, his face slightly flushed. “Lucky shot.”

As the game went on, Mark’s “luck” didn’t run out. He dove to the floor to save a ball, slid across the court with the grace of a pro, and even managed to block a spike that seemed way out of reach.

By the time the game ended, the entire class was buzzing.

“Did Mark join a secret volleyball league or something?”

You couldn’t help but grin, though your curiosity was starting to bubble over. Since when could he do any of this?

During a break, you found him leaning against the wall, gulping down water like he’d just run a marathon.

“Since when did you play volleyball like that?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow.

He nearly choked, coughing and spluttering as his face turned red. “I—uh, I’ve been practicing?”

“Practicing?” you echoed, unimpressed. “Mark, the last time we played volleyball, you tripped over the net and nearly took me down with you.”

He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… things change?”

You squinted at him, unconvinced. There was something different about him lately—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Before you could press him further, Coach’s whistle blew, calling everyone back to the court. Mark shot you a quick smile before jogging off, leaving you standing there, your curiosity growing by the second.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

As the day went on, you started noticing more little things about him. In English class, he caught a pen mid-air without even looking, like he had eyes in the back of his head.

“Nice reflexes, Spidey,” you joked, nudging him.

Mark laughed nervously, shoving the pen into his bag. “Just got lucky,” he said quickly, avoiding your gaze.

Then, in chemistry, he managed to grab a beaker you almost knocked off the table before it shattered on the floor. His hand shot out so fast you barely saw it.

“Whoa,” you said, staring at him. “How’d you do that?”

Mark shrugged, his cheeks turning red. “I dunno, instincts?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could say anything, the teacher called for everyone’s attention.

By lunchtime, you were keeping a closer eye on him, trying to figure out what was going on. He seemed more jittery than usual, like he was trying to avoid drawing attention to himself but failing miserably.

When someone dropped their tray in the cafeteria, sending food flying, Mark’s head snapped toward the commotion before anyone else had even noticed. He looked like he was about to jump out of his seat before he caught himself and forced a laugh.

“You good?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, totally,” he said, shoving a fry into his mouth. “Just… startled, that’s all.”

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you let it slide. For now.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different about Mark. He’d clearly changed somehow, but you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly was different.

And as much as you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t help but wonder: what was he hiding?

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Your parents had been asleep for hours by the time Mark came over that night. It was one of those quiet, lazy Friday nights where the two of you didn’t need to talk much. Just snacks, a couple of blankets, and a well-worn stack of DVDs.

You weren’t supposed to have people over this late—especially not boys—but it was Mark. If your parents knew it was him, they’d probably be fine with it. Still, sneaking him in through your fire escape gave the night a little thrill.

The two of you were huddled on your bed, knees bumping each other as the movie played on the TV. It was some action flick Mark had picked out, but your attention was divided between the screen and him. He looked more relaxed now than he had at school, though every now and then, you caught him glancing toward the door, like he was expecting someone to barge in.

“You good?” you asked softly, nudging him with your elbow.

“Huh? Yeah, totally,” he said, flashing you a sheepish grin. “Just… didn’t expect him to survive that fall.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “It’s a superhero movie, Mark. No one ever dies unless it’s to make the hero angsty.”

He chuckled at that, leaning back into the couch. “Fair point.”

As the movie went on, the two of you started whispering back and forth, your voices barely louder than the hum of the TV.

“Okay, that was so fake,” you said, gesturing at the screen as the hero miraculously dodged a bullet.

Mark smirked. “You’re telling me this is where you draw the line?”

“I have standards!”

He shook his head, stifling a laugh, when suddenly his posture stiffened. His head tilted slightly, and his hand reached out, brushing your arm.

“Hey,” he whispered, his tone urgent. “Be quiet for a second.”

You blinked at him, confused. “What?”

“Shh,” he insisted, sitting up straighter. His eyes darted toward the hallway, and he moved to hide on the ground next to the bed, out of view of your doorway.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, a little too loudly.

Before he could answer, the door creaked open, and your mom peeked in, her expression equal parts annoyed and groggy.

“Y/N,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s almost midnight. Keep it down, okay?”

Your eyes went wide. “Oh! Sorry, Mom. I’ll quiet down.”

She lingered for a moment, her gaze sweeping the room. You held your breath, praying she wouldn’t notice the second pair of sneakers tucked gently away next to your your bedside table. Thankfully, she just nodded and shuffled back down the hallway.

The second the coast was clear, you turned to Mark, your heart still racing.

“How the hell did you know she was coming?” you hissed, keeping your voice low this time.

Mark scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “I, uh… I just… I don’t know, I guess I heard her footsteps?”

“Footsteps?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Mark, I didn’t hear anything. How did you hear her through a closed door? And while we were talking, no less?”

He let out a nervous laugh, shrugging a little too casually. “Maybe I’ve just got good ears?”

“Good ears my ass,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You’ve been weird all day. First in gym, then in class, and now this. What’s going on with you?”

Mark froze for a second, his expression flickering between panic and guilt. “Nothing! I swear, it’s—nothing. You’re imagining things.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, okay” you said sarcastically, not realizing how close you were to the truth.

Mark’s laugh came out a little too forced this time. “Anyways, we should probably finish the movie, it’s getting late.”

You didn’t push the issue—for now. But as the movie played on, you couldn’t help but glance at him, your curiosity growing stronger with every passing minute.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

After your slightly strange movie night, everything feels... normal. You’re at school with Mark again, cracking jokes about your teachers and helping each other survive the monotony of class. 

After school, you walk home together as usual. Mark’s quiet, more so than usual, and you figure he’s just tired. He always seems tired these days.

"Are you okay?" you ask, nudging his arm.

He flinches slightly, then forces a smile. "Yeah, I’m good. Just didn’t sleep well last night."

You nod, though his answer doesn’t quite satisfy you.

Later that evening, you decide to take a quick walk to clear your head. The streets are quiet, the orange glow of the streetlights casting long shadows. You’re only a few blocks from your apartment when you hear shouting—a man yelling for help. Your heart pounds as you turn the corner and see a masked figure—Spider-Man—swinging into action.

It’s like watching a movie come to life. He moves with incredible speed and grace, disarming the attacker in seconds. The victim stumbles to safety, and Spider-Man barely pauses before disappearing into the night.

You stand frozen, your mind racing. Spider-Man isn’t supposed to be real—not in your world, not in your life. And yet, here he is, saving people in your neighborhood.

When you finally make it home, Mark texts you almost immediately:

Hey, you okay?

The timing feels weirdly coincidental.

Yeah... just saw something crazy on my walk. Spider-Man.

There’s a pause before he replies.

Mark: Whoa, no way. He’s around here?

You: Guess so. It was... surreal.

Mark: Sounds scary. You’re sure you’re okay?

Something about the way he asks makes you hesitate. He sounds so concerned, almost like he’s talking to himself.

You: Yeah. Are YOU okay?

Mark: Me? Of course. Just checking on you. I saw your location said you were outside.

You chastise yourself for not remembering he had your location. You’d have probably done the same thing if his location said he was outside in the middle of the night. Though, you’d never had the habit of checking his.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Saturday nights are sacred.

Since middle school, you and Mark have had this unspoken rule: no matter what, Saturday nights are yours. Whether it’s binging your favorite show, building Legos, or debating which movie series is superior, it’s the highlight of your week.

You’ve been looking forward to tonight all day. After tossing a blanket over the couch and setting out snacks—chips for you, candy for him—you settle in, phone in hand, waiting for Mark’s familiar knock.

He’s usually punctual, arriving right when he says he will. But tonight, the minutes stretch into an hour, and he’s still not there.

You glance at your phone. No texts, no missed calls.

You: Where are you? I’m starting to think you forgot about me.

No response.

You frown but try not to overthink it. Maybe he got caught up with something. You wait another fifteen minutes, then send another text.

You: Mark?? You better not be ditching me for one of your dumb guy friends.

Still nothing. Anxiety begins to creep in, though you try to push it aside. He’s probably just running late.

An hour later, you’ve run out of chips and excuses for his absence.

You: I’m officially mad at you.

By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve all but given up. You leave one last text before tossing your phone onto the coffee table.

You: Hope you’re okay. Call me when you see this.

Sleep doesn’t come easily that night. Your mind races with possibilities—some silly, some serious. Is he okay? Did something happen? You brush them off as anxious thoughts running wild and try to fall asleep.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

The next morning, your phone buzzes with a message from Mark.

Mark: I’m so sorry, Y/N. I got sick out of nowhere last night. Took some medicine and completely passed out. I didn’t even see your texts until now.

You exhale, relieved but annoyed.

You: SICK? You ditched me because you were sick? I’m so offended.

Mark: I’m sorryyyyy. 😭 I’ll make it up to you, I swear.

You: You better be glad I didn’t watch our show without you.

Mark: You wouldn’t dare.

You: Guess you’ll never know. 

His usual playfulness makes you smile, but the knot in your chest hasn’t completely loosened. You know it’s dumb, but a small part of you wonders if there’s more to the story. Mark never misses your hangouts. You’re always the first to know if something’s wrong. And as much as you want to believe his excuse, the insecurity that’s been gnawing at you for years whispers otherwise.

He’s your only real friend, and deep down, you’re terrified of losing him. You’re terrified that one day he’ll outgrow you, that he’ll find someone cooler, funnier, or just... better.

You shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away. Mark said he was sick, and you believe him. There’s no reason to think otherwise. But as you put your phone down and get ready for the day, you can’t help but feel like something isn’t adding up.

You stare at your phone, willing it to buzz with a new message from Mark, but it stays silent. You’ve already texted him a few times this afternoon, and while he usually responds by now, today it’s been almost two hours since your last message. Your thumb hovers over your screen, ready to send something, but you stop yourself. Maybe he’s busy. It’s fine. It’s not like you need him to text you back right away, right?

But you can’t shake the growing discomfort in your chest.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Ever since his message about getting sick a few weeks ago, he’s been a little off. Sure, he’d apologized for missing your hangout, but now, it’s like nothing has changed. During the day, he’s the same—always goofy, friendly, and acting normal when you see him at school. But by the time night falls, he’s almost always gone—his responses slow, often one-word answers, and sometimes, he doesn’t respond at all. And this has gone on for almost a month now.

The more time passes, the more you can’t help but feel like he’s distancing himself from you, like you’ve somehow become a burden on him. You try to tell yourself you’re overthinking it. He’s probably just busy, right? But deep down, there’s a voice whispering that maybe he’s just getting tired of you. You wish you could ignore it, but the insecurity festers, eating away at your confidence with every minute he doesn’t reply.

By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve already sent him two more texts, no response. You try to sleep, but your mind is spinning. Is he with someone else? You hate that thought, but it keeps creeping in. Maybe he’s found new people to hang out with. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

You throw your phone aside, frustrated with yourself, with him, and with the situation. Why do I care so much? You’ve never been the type to need constant validation from someone else, but with Mark? It’s different. You’ve always been there for each other, always shared your time. You didn’t need anything more from him, but now… it feels like you’re losing him.

Then, you get a message.

It's from Mark. Your heart jumps into your throat as you open it. “Hey, sorry. I got totally wrapped up in homework, we still on for tomorrow?”

You read it over and over, but something feels off. It’s a good excuse—too good, maybe. You want to believe him, but part of you wonders if he’s just avoiding you now. He was so there for you, always texting and hanging out after school. But now? It feels like he’s just gone, like a ghost. You don’t know what to believe.

“Can’t, sorry. I have plans with Giselle.”

There’s a pause before his reply comes through. You can almost hear the indifference in his words, even though you know you’re probably reading into it too much.

“Ah, alright. Have fun.”

The message feels too short, too casual. You frown at your phone, biting your lip. The nagging feeling in your chest grows stronger. Has he really just become that indifferent?

You text him back quickly, trying to keep things light, trying to ignore the hurt that lingers in your words. “Yeah sorry, we’ll definitely hang out later this week though, haha.”

But even as you send the message, a part of you wonders if this week is going to be just like the last—another week of him acting normal at school, you trying to text him all night, waiting for responses that don’t come, waiting for a friendship that doesn’t feel the same anymore.

You let out a sigh, toss your phone aside, and climb into bed, your angsty playlist drifting through your ears as you struggle to sleep.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

The bass from the music thumps through your chest as you step into the crowded living room. The lights are dim, the room filled with a haze of colored neon and swirling bodies moving to the rhythm. It’s your first real party in a long time, and the unfamiliar atmosphere is slightly overwhelming. You spot Giselle across the room, her blonde hair shining under the strobe lights as she waves you over.

You smile, grateful for her invitation. The group of people she’s hanging with seems friendly enough, laughing and chatting as they pass drinks around. Giselle introduces you to a few of her friends, and you slip into the crowd easily enough, trying to shake off the tension that’s been building in you ever since Mark stopped replying to your texts.

You’ve been pushing it down all night, focusing on the fun of the party, but it’s hard to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Is he really busy with homework? Or is he avoiding me? You try not to dwell on it. After all, he’s always been a little unpredictable—he’s probably just caught up with his own stuff.

As the night wears on, you find yourself getting along with Giselle’s friends. You chat with a girl named Ningning who shares a class with you, and you laugh at her sarcastic humor. It’s nice. It feels good to be out and talking with people who aren’t just classmates or distant acquaintances. But still, in the back of your mind, you’re aware of the emptiness Mark’s absence has left. Every few minutes, you glance at your phone, hoping to see a message from him, but there’s nothing.

You tell yourself it’s fine—he’s just busy. But every time you check, you feel a little more disappointed. 

The music pulses louder, and you take a deep breath, shaking off the thoughts of your best friend. Giselle is pulling you toward the makeshift dance floor, laughing as she drags you into the crowd. You let yourself get swept up in the fun for a while, your body moving to the beat, the drinks in your system giving you a comfortable, carefree buzz.

You laugh, enjoy yourself, and even manage to pull out a few impressive dance moves—at least according to Giselle, who’s cheering you on. The night seems to go by in a blur of music and people, the few drinks you’d had adding to the fuzziness of the night’s events.

But as the night winds down, you find yourself standing near the door, chatting with Ningning again. You glance down at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time, a little embarrassed that you’re still hoping for a text from him.

You frown when you see the time: it’s late, and you still haven’t heard from him. You were starting to wonder if you should text him, maybe check in, when Giselle appears beside you. “Hey, you okay?” she asks, her eyes narrowing with a knowing look. You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just... thinking about stuff,” you say vaguely, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

She nods. “You know, it’s okay to have fun without him. Sometimes you gotta do your own thing, right?”

You nod along, but her words hit deeper than she probably intended. Why does it feel like I can’t? you think, but you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you force another smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Giselle offers to drive you home, but you shake your head. “I think I’ll walk. Get some fresh air. Plus, I’ve got pepper spray, just in case,” you joke, trying to ease the mood.

She laughs, but her eyes linger on you for a moment. “Alright, take care of yourself, okay?”

You wave her off as she heads toward the car with her friends. You linger by the door for a moment, a small hesitation gnawing at you, but then you push it aside. Walking will help clear your head.

As you step out into the cool night air, the city streets are alive with the usual hum of late-night activity. There’s a slight chill to the breeze, but you don’t mind it. You wrap your jacket tighter around your shoulders, feeling the effects of the alcohol beginning to wear off as the cold air helps sober you up. The walk is quiet, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe a little easier.

But even though the night is peaceful, your mind still drifts back to Mark. His silence feels like an anchor in your chest, something heavy and uncertain, and as you walk, you can’t stop wondering what’s going on. You’ve spent every Saturday night together for as long as you can remember. And now... now he’s just disappearing.

You try to shake off the feeling, telling yourself it's nothing. Maybe you’re just overthinking. Again. But the more you walk, the more your thoughts spiral, until you hear the footsteps behind you.

Before you can even react, a hand grabs your wrist, spinning you around so quickly that your heart jumps into your throat. Your breath catches in your chest, and for a split second, you can’t even process what’s happening. The streetlights cast long shadows on the sidewalk, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you can’t make out the guy’s face. All you feel is the cold, tight grip on your wrist.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest, panic surging through you. You try to pull away, but his hand tightens, and a sickening, familiar feeling spreads through you.

"Hey! Let go of me!" you shout, your voice shaking.

“Quiet, bitch,” the man growls, his breath hot against your neck. You struggle, but his grip tightens, and your pulse quickens.

Just as the fear begins to settle over you, you hear a soft whoosh, followed by a thud that’s too heavy to be anything but a person.

Without warning, the man’s grip on you loosens, and before you can even react, you're yanked off the ground and pulled up a nearby fire escape ladder, higher and higher until you’re standing on a rooftop. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to steady your breath. You glance around, completely disoriented, when the voice of the masker figure breaks the silence. 

You let out a breath, in awe of the Spiderman being right in front of you.

But before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Stay here,” he orders, his tone sharp as he drops you onto a crate by the edge of the roof. “I’ll handle it. Don’t move.”

You don’t even have time to ask him what’s going on before he’s gone, leaving you sitting there alone in the dark, your mind spinning. What the hell just happened? Is this... real? You glance around, still trying to process the fact that Spiderman—the very same guy you’d heard about in the news, the one everyone in the city seems to talk about—just saved you from some creep.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the sound of struggle below, muffled voices, and a distant thud as Spiderman confronts the man you were just seconds away from being attacked by. It’s all over within moments, and before you can fully grasp the situation, Spiderman returns, landing effortlessly on the roof beside you.

He glances at you, his mask giving nothing away, but you notice the way his chest rises and falls a little too fast for someone who should be used to fighting.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer now. You nod quickly, trying to push the terror away.

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing hard. “Thanks for saving me.”

A long silence stretches between you before you, almost hesitantly, ask, “Did... did you... kill him?”

The question comes out before you can think better of it, but the moment you say it, his head whips toward you in complete shock.

“What?!” he exclaims, his voice full of disbelief. “No! I—no, I didn’t kill him! I just... I knocked him out. I’m not... I don’t... that’s not what I do.”

You blink, surprised at how horrified he sounds. Maybe you’ve underestimated him.

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling sheepish. “Sorry, I... I don’t know how these things work.”

Spiderman’s shoulders visibly relax, and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s fine. Just... just stay safe, okay? I’ll get you home.”

You nod, your heart still beating erratically in your chest. Part of you is still processing everything, but another part of you is grateful. Grateful for Spiderman being here tonight, for protecting you when no one else would have been able to.

“Um, thank you again,” you say, your voice softer this time.

His eyes behind the mask seem to soften, but you’re not sure. “I can take you home,” he offers, voice low, almost too gentle, slightly familiar but you’re unable to place exactly where you’d heard it before.

You blink up at him, still in shock, and then remember where you are. “I’m almost home… I can walk the rest of the way.”

But the more you think about it, the more you realize you really don’t want to walk. Not after what just happened. Plus, his presence feels safe in a way you can’t explain.

Spiderman seems to notice the hesitation in your expression, and before you can change your mind, he’s already swooping down, his webbing attaching to a nearby building. “Hold on tight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you barely process his words. Before you can question how he knows where you live, he shoots another web, pulling you along with him. Your feet leave the ground, and you’re soaring through the city. The wind rushes against your face, and everything is a blur of lights and rooftops.

The whole trip is a disorienting whirl, but it’s somehow comforting in its chaos. Spiderman moves like he’s done this a thousand times, his grip tight around your waist as he swings from one building to the next. The world below you is a distant hum, but your thoughts are still clouded with questions.

And then, as quickly as it began, you find yourself standing on the fire escape of your apartment building. Your legs are a little shaky, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe.

“Here we are,” he says, glancing up at your window.

You stare at him, still slightly tipsy from the night’s events, but not questioning how he knows where you live. After all, it’s just one of those things that doesn’t make sense, and you don’t really care. All that matters is that you’re safe now.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, feeling oddly vulnerable under his watchful gaze.

He nods again, his hand slipping back to his side as he stands a little straighter. “Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t walk alone at night again. It’s... not safe. Especially for pretty girls like you.”

You nod, still too stunned to respond properly. You watch as he shoots a web up to the fire escape and swings back into the darkness. You stand there for a moment, your thoughts racing, wondering if the whole thing really just happened. It’s only when you step inside your apartment and hear the quiet of the night that it hits you. Spiderman just saved me, not only that but he’d called you pretty too.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

The next Monday morning at school, everything feels a little surreal. You’re walking through the hallways, mind still reeling from that night’s events. You still haven’t told anyone, and you feel like you’re about to burst. How in the world had Spiderman been so close to you? And you were actually talking to him, like... you know, a real conversation.

As you sit down next to Mark in homeroom, you can’t help but grin. You need to tell someone about the whole thing, and who better than your best friend? You tap his shoulder and lean in close, trying to act casual but failing miserably.

“Oh my God, Mark, you won’t believe what happened last night,” you blurt out, eyes wide with excitement.

He raises an eyebrow, a slight chuckle escaping him as he looks over at you. “What happened? You go to a party or something?”

You shake your head, not able to contain the grin that stretches across your face. “Worse. I got mugged.” You pause for dramatic effect, watching his eyes widen with concern. “But wait—before you freak out, I was saved. By Spiderman.”

Mark freezes for a second, blinking at you in disbelief. “Spiderman? You’re serious? Like, the Spiderman?”

You nod, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed as you recount the entire wild encounter, from the guy grabbing you to being yanked onto the roof and saved by Spiderman. You try to make it sound as casual as possible, but you can’t help but feel the thrill of telling someone about your personal brush with New York’s most famous hero.

“That’s insane,” Mark mutters, clearly processing the details. “Wait, so... what happened next?”

“Well, he saved me,” you say, leaning in like you’re sharing a secret. “But... I’m not gonna lie, Mark, he was lowkey hot.” 

Mark splutters, his face twisting with confusion. “What? You don’t even know what he looks like.”

You shrug dramatically, twirling your pen between your fingers. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not about looks. It’s how he was so protective, you know? The way he grabbed me and made sure I was okay... it was hot.”

You watch Mark's face turn a shade of red as his expression shifts from surprise to something else entirely—discomfort, maybe? You can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to hold it together.

“No way. You’re a freak, bro,” Mark says, shaking his head and trying to laugh it off. “Like, seriously? You’re crushing on a guy you don’t even know?”

You roll your eyes, letting out a short laugh. “I don’t judge your crushes, so don’t judge mine. It’s called appreciating someone for more than just their looks.”

Mark scowls, but there’s a nervous twitch in his eyes. “I’m not judging. But... I don’t know, it’s just a little weird. You’ve got a crush on Spiderman?”

You smile, feeling a little awkward. “I guess. He’s mysterious, heroic... and I mean, he was pretty hot for someone wearing a mask.” You nudge him playfully, watching the way he looks more and more flustered.

Mark shrugs, but you can see the slight hesitation in his eyes. “Whatever, man. You’re weird. But... I guess if he saved you... that’s... kinda cool.”

It’s hard to ignore the little spark of something else in his voice, even if he’s trying to mask it with humor. You grin to yourself, filing the moment away. You’re not sure why, but it feels like there’s a shift between you two—something you can’t quite put your finger on.

You press the issue no further, but the day goes on, and you can't stop thinking about Mark’s weird reaction. Sure, he’s your best friend, but the way he acted just now... it made you wonder. Could he possibly feel something more for you?

You find yourself entertaining the idea of Mark having a crush on you, before shaking your head and brushing the thought away. There’s no way Mark liked you, if he did, he would have told you.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

As the week drags on, you can't shake the thought of Spiderman. Sure, you were trying to move on, but it’s hard when you keep running into him every time you step out of the apartment at night. You’ll be walking home from the store, or maybe grabbing dinner with Giselle and Ninging, and bam—there he is, swinging between buildings or dropping down from some rooftop. It’s like he’s everywhere.

At first, you try to brush it off, telling yourself it’s just a coincidence. But then, it starts feeling a little too suspicious, almost like he’s... following you? Or looking out for you?

One night, you’re walking back from your favorite coffee shop, the crisp air of early fall making you hug your jacket tighter. You’ve been texting Mark, as usual, but his replies are slow—too slow. You roll your eyes at the screen, sighing. You swear, it’s like he’s avoiding you or something.

As you round the corner toward your apartment building, you feel that familiar shift in the air, that sensation of something just slightly off. You glance up and sure enough, you spot him—Spiderman—perched on a rooftop above you, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights.

You pause in your tracks, raising a brow. “Really? Again?”

Spiderman tilts his head, as if amused by your reaction. He crouches down and lands lightly in front of you, his movements fluid and graceful.

“You’re following me, huh?” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “I mean, I appreciate the protection and all, but you don’t have to babysit me.”

Spiderman straightens, a soft chuckle escaping from behind the mask. “I’m not babysitting,” he says with a playful edge. “Just making sure you don’t run into any... unsavory people.”

You roll your eyes, but there's a slight smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, well, I’m fine. Been walking these streets for years now.”

There’s a pause, as if he’s considering your words. “I’m still here. Just in case.” His voice is a little warmer than usual, though it’s hard to tell beneath the mask.

You feel a mix of amusement and frustration bubbling up. “You’re a real hero, huh?” you quip. “Just swinging in, saving the day. But honestly? I’m starting to get tired of it. I mean, you’re cute and all, but this whole ‘mysterious stranger’ act? It’s getting old.”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and as soon as they do, you realize—you’ve just said that to Spiderman.

You quickly recover, trying to act casual. “It’s fine, I guess. I’m just getting a little tired of feeling like I’m in some weird superhero movie, you know?”

Spiderman doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he steps a little closer, his posture still relaxed but with a certain intensity in his eyes—well, you imagine that’s what’s behind the mask.

“Maybe I should back off for a while then,” he says after a beat, his tone more thoughtful. “You’ve got it all under control, right?”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to cover up how your heart is suddenly beating a little faster. “Yeah, I’ve got it under control, obviously.”

“Really?” Spiderman says, his voice a little too calm for your liking. Before you can even process what’s happening, he webs your phone right out of your hand, and you gasp, stumbling back in surprise as it hovers in midair for a second before landing gently in his palm.

You blink up at him in disbelief, your mouth hanging open. “What the hell? Give that back!”

He shrugs, unfazed. “What if someone mugs you again? No offense, but your reflexes suck.”

Your jaw clenches at the jab, but you can’t help but laugh bitterly. “Thanks, I feel so much safer now. I wasn’t even worried about it.”

You reach for your phone, and he hands it back to you, but there’s a look in his eyes—concern, maybe? Or just frustration. “You might not worry, but I do. You seem like you’ve got your act together, but... I don’t know. Maybe I’m just looking out for you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat in the gesture. "Fine," you say, a little too quickly. "I guess I can let you walk with me then. But just so you know, you’re not my personal bodyguard, alright?”

Spiderman grins behind his mask, a little triumphant, but he falls in step behind you. You try to ignore the way his presence feels different—more constant now, like it’s a part of the night itself. You walk for a few minutes, the quiet of the city streets pressing in on you. You try to focus on the rhythmic sound of your footsteps, but the weight of the past few days catches up with you, and you find your shoulders slumping a little more with each step.

Spiderman notices, of course. You can feel his eyes on your back, studying you, but he doesn’t say anything for a while.

Finally, he speaks up, his voice softer than usual. “You wanna talk about it? I mean, you’ve been acting a little... off tonight.”

You look over your shoulder at him, surprised that he even noticed. But you don’t hesitate. Maybe it’s the anonymity of the mask. Maybe it’s the strange comfort of having a stranger to vent to. But suddenly, you just want to unload.

“Yeah,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “I mean, I’ve been dealing with some... stuff lately.”

You kick a rock along the sidewalk as you walk, the soft scrape of it filling the silence. “I’ve got this friend, Mark, right? We’ve been close for years—like, best friends. We have this thing where every Saturday, no exceptions, we hang out. Watch movies, talk... whatever. We’re just... us. But lately? He’s been acting weird. Like, really weird.”

Spiderman doesn’t interrupt. He just walks beside you, giving you the space to talk.

“It’s like he’s avoiding me,” you continue, your words gaining momentum. “I get that people get busy, but he’s never like this. He’s slow to reply, sometimes doesn’t even respond at all, and when he does, it’s like he doesn’t care anymore. I don’t even know what happened. It’s just... really frustrating. And I don’t even know if I should ask him about it, because I don’t want to come off as desperate or clingy.”

You kick another rock, your frustration spilling over, and for a second, you feel a little ridiculous. Here you are, talking about Mark to a guy you don’t even know, someone who wears a mask and swings from rooftops. But the words come tumbling out anyway, all of your insecurities and confusion finding a strange kind of release in the cool air of the city.

Spiderman stays quiet for a moment, processing. When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, like he’s trying to make sense of your ramblings. “Sounds like he’s pulling away for some reason,” he says thoughtfully. “But I’m sure there’s a reason. Maybe he’s just going through something, you know?”

You shrug, feeling the weight of the uncertainty settle in your chest. “I don’t know. I just... I want things Spiderman listens quietly, his footsteps matching yours as you walk. You don’t notice the way his posture shifts, or the way his mask seems to obscure any hint of emotion—though somehow, you feel like he’s really paying attention.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks again, his voice thoughtful and a little gentler than before. “You know, I think you should just talk to him. Mark, I mean.”

You stop in your tracks, looking over at him in surprise. “What?”

Spiderman shrugs, his tone almost casual, but his words don’t match the nonchalance. “I get it. You’re frustrated, and you don’t want to be the one to chase him down. But sometimes, people just need a nudge. If you really want things to go back to the way they were... maybe you should just be honest with him. Ask him what’s up.”

You frown, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. “But what if I look desperate? Or, I don’t know... what if he doesn’t care?”

Spiderman stops walking too, his voice quiet but steady when he answers. “He cares. I’m sure of it.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, surprised by how certain he sounds. “How could you possibly know that? You don’t even know him.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t need to. I can tell from the way you talk about him. The way you light up when you mention him. You’re not the kind of person who just forgets someone you care about. And trust me, it’s obvious he doesn’t want to lose that either. Whatever’s going on, I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”

You let out a long sigh, leaning against the nearest streetlamp. His words stir something inside you—something you’ve been avoiding all week. The idea that Mark really does care makes your heart feel a little lighter, but the fear is still there. “But what if he doesn’t? What if I make things worse by trying to talk to him?”

Spiderman leans against the wall next to you, his posture relaxed. “Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But you know him. I’m sure you’ve been through rough patches before and you worked through them. You just need to give him the chance to explain himself. I think that’s all he needs—someone to really talk to. And if you don’t do it, you’ll always be wondering what could’ve happened.”

You chew on your lip, his words hanging in the air between you. There’s a weight to them, something that feels... true. Something that makes you want to listen to him, to take his advice. But still, there’s a stubborn part of you that wants to push it all aside. “I just... don’t want to get hurt. Again.”

Spiderman straightens up, his tone surprisingly gentle. “You won’t. Not if you’re honest. Trust me.”

You glance up at him, your gaze softening as you look into the mysterious eyes behind his mask. He sounds so sure of himself.

“Thanks,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “I’ll think about it.”

He nods once, giving you an almost encouraging smile beneath the mask. “I know you will.”

You both fall silent as you continue walking, but the weight in your chest doesn’t feel quite as heavy anymore. Maybe, just maybe, Spiderman is right. Maybe you do need to talk to Mark.

Maybe it won’t be as scary as you think.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

A few days after your conversation with Spiderman, things between you and Mark seem to settle down a bit. He’s still a little distant at times, but when he’s around, you notice he’s more present, his smiles more genuine, his conversations less distracted. It’s not the same as before—things can’t just magically go back to normal—but there’s something warmer there, something more honest.

One afternoon, as you’re sitting at your favorite spot in the courtyard, you catch him coming toward you, looking a little tired but still smiling like he’s actually glad to see you. You can’t help but feel a pang of relief. It’s been a while since you’ve had one of these simple, casual hangouts, and you’ve missed it more than you care to admit.

He sits beside you, just like old times, and you both start talking like you haven’t missed a beat. But the conversation isn’t just surface-level anymore. He seems more open, more real.

After a while, you can’t hold back anymore. The thought has been gnawing at the back of your mind for days, and it’s finally time to ask.

You clear your throat, trying to sound casual, though your heart is thumping in your chest. "Hey, Mark. Can I ask you something?"

He glances at you, his brow furrowing slightly, but he’s still listening. “Of course. What’s up?”

You take a deep breath, trying not to come off too confrontational. "Why did you ghost me before? I mean, I know you were busy, but... you weren’t even texting me back. I didn’t want to push, but it felt like you were avoiding me."

His expression hardens for just a moment, like he's bracing himself. He looks away for a second, running a hand through his hair. "I was... going through something. Something personal."

You wait, your heart rate picking up. The words hang between you two, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t.

You want to press him, ask for more details, but you don’t. There’s something about the way he said it—quiet, almost hesitant—that makes you feel like he’s not ready to share. You nod, leaning back against the bench. “Okay... But you know, you can always talk to me, right?”

Mark hesitates, eyes flicking back to you, a mix of gratitude and something else passing through his gaze. "I know," he says, his voice soft but firm. "But right now, I really can’t. I wish I could, but..." He lets out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. "It’s complicated, and I don’t want to drag you into it."

You feel the weight of his words, something about them striking you deeper than you expected. There’s an intensity there, a desperation almost, that you weren’t prepared for. You stare at him for a moment, your gaze softening as you consider his words.

"I trust you, Mark," you say quietly. "And I know you’re not lying to me. So... if you can’t tell me yet, it’s okay. Just know that I’m here, whenever you’re ready."

There’s a long pause as he looks at you, like he’s trying to read the sincerity in your eyes. Finally, he looks away, nodding slowly.

"Thanks. That... means a lot to me." His voice cracks a little, and you can tell how much he appreciates your understanding. "I really am sorry for pulling away, though. I never wanted to hurt you."

You smile softly, feeling the tension between you two finally start to ease. "I know you didn’t. But I’m here, okay? Just like you said—whenever you’re ready, I’m not going anywhere."

He gives a small, grateful smile, his eyes warmer than they’ve been in a while. "Thanks... I really mean it."

From that moment on, things slowly start to return to a sense of normalcy. Mark isn’t completely open with you yet—whatever is going on with him still seems like something he’s not ready to share—but there’s a shift. There’s no more distance. He’s trying, and you’re trying, and that’s enough for now.

And as you walk to class together the next day, you feel a little lighter. Maybe things aren’t perfect, and maybe they never will be, but you’re still here for each other. And somehow, that’s all you need for now.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Things have started to settle into a new rhythm, one that’s almost comfortable. You and Mark are hanging out again, like before, laughing and joking and just enjoying each other’s company. But now, there's something different in the air—something lighter, maybe even flirtatious. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He'll tease you, throw out little compliments that make your heart race, and you’ve noticed the way he looks at you when you’re talking, his eyes softer than usual.

You can’t deny it—you’re starting to feel the spark again, that chemistry you thought you had maybe lost when things got weird. But you're also talking to Spiderman regularly now, and every time you do, you feel like you’re walking this tightrope between two worlds—one where everything feels so right with Mark, and one where he is a complete mystery. You don’t even realize it yet, but you're starting to fall for both of them in very different ways.

You hadn’t expected to run into him tonight, but here he is, perched on the fire escape across the street, casually leaning against the rail. It’s become a weird sort of routine lately—your nightly walks where you’d end up talking to Spiderman. It’s comforting in its own way, even if you still don’t know who’s behind the mask.

You slow your pace and look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re stalking me now?”

Spiderman chuckles, the sound muffled by the mask but still warm enough to make your chest flutter. “If I’m stalking you, then you’re stalking me, too,” he teases, swinging down lightly to land in front of you. “What’s up tonight?”

You shrug, adjusting the straps of your bag over your shoulder. “Not much. Just out to clear my head.”

The city feels quieter at night. The hum of the busy streets seems far away, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you standing there in the stillness. You’ve gotten used to his company in the past couple of weeks, and there’s a sense of comfort in the anonymity between you. A part of you almost wishes you could talk to him more. After everything with Mark, it’s nice to have someone to listen, someone who isn’t involved in the mess.

He notices the shift in your demeanor, and you can tell by the tilt of his head that he’s waiting for you to speak.

You let out a deep breath, gathering your courage. You hadn’t planned on telling him this, but somehow it just comes out. “I think I’m in love with Mark,” you say, voice quieter than usual, almost scared to even say it out loud.

His posture stiffens for a second, though you can’t see his expression under the mask. “Mark?” he repeats, sounding genuinely surprised. “Like, your best friend Mark?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah. I mean... I don’t know. It’s confusing. We’ve been friends forever, and now it’s like I can’t get him out of my head. Lately, he’s been like flirting, I think?”

“Flirting?” he asks, his tone curious, almost teasing. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah,” you say, laughing nervously. “I don’t know, he’s just been way nicer lately? Texting me more, teasing me... It’s like he’s trying to get closer to me or something.”

You glance around, unsure of how to continue, suddenly feeling a little silly talking about your boy problems to Spiderman. You rub the back of your neck and look away, trying to gather your thoughts. “But I don’t know if I’m imagining it. Maybe I’m just reading into things. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long. He’s always been nice to me, but now it’s... different. It’s making me crazy. I don’t know what to think.”

Spiderman watches you quietly, his posture still, though there’s something in the way he holds himself that makes you feel like he’s really paying attention. “You deserve an answer,” he says after a pause, his voice low but certain. “You deserve to know how he feels, one way or the other.”

You look up at him, surprised by his words. “You think so?”

He gives a slight nod. “Yeah. You can’t keep guessing forever. I mean, I’m not saying it’s easy to talk about feelings, but it’s the only way to know for sure.”

You bite your lip, nodding slowly. You want to believe him, you want to believe that talking to Mark is the right thing to do, but the idea of being rejected still stings. “Yeah... I guess you're right. I’ve been avoiding talking to him about it. I’m scared of what might happen if I do.”

Spiderman steps closer, his voice soft and reassuring. “If he’s your friend, he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t... then at least you’ll know where you stand.”

You sigh deeply, feeling the weight of his words. He’s right, of course. You’ve been avoiding the conversation with Mark because you’re afraid of what might happen, but maybe it’s time to face it.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling a little lighter. “I’m not sure I’d have the courage to do it if you hadn’t said something.”

“No problem,” he replies, a teasing note in his voice. “I mean, I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Helping people is kind of my thing.”

You laugh a little, but it’s a mix of relief and gratitude. “You’re way too nice to be a superhero.”

He shrugs, though you can’t see it through the mask. “I do what I can. But seriously, take my advice. Talk to him. He’s probably just as confused as you are.”

You smile, feeling a little more confident now. “I will. I promise.”

Spiderman gives you a nod of approval before his posture shifts, signaling that it’s time to go. “Alright. Go get some sleep. You’ve got this.”

You watch as he swings up to the rooftops, disappearing into the night, and for the first time in a while, you feel like maybe—just maybe—you can start figuring things out with Mark.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

You don’t even see it coming.

One moment, you’re walking back from the corner store with a bag of snacks, minding your own business. The next, someone grabs you, and your heart leaps into your throat. A rough voice snarls in your ear, “Where’s your friend Spiderman?”

Panic overtakes you, and all you can manage is a confused stammer. You’re shoved into the back of a van, heart racing as you piece together what’s happening. Someone must’ve seen you with him that night, or maybe they’ve been watching for longer than you realized.

Your captors don’t wait long to make their demands clear. “You tell him to show up, or things get messy,” one says, holding up your phone. They want you to call him. The problem is, you have no idea how.

You stutter, trying to explain that you literally don’t have his phone number.

“Don’t play dumb,” the second man snaps, holding up your phone. “We’ve seen him with you. Call him.”

“I can’t—”

Your words are cut off as the van jerks to a halt. The two men exchange alarmed glances, and then you hear it: a thud on the roof.

“What the hell was that?” one mutters, pulling out a weapon.

The next sound is unmistakable—the sharp thwip of a web. The van rocks violently as the door is ripped clean off, light flooding the cramped space.

And there he is.

Spiderman is a blur of red and blue, launching himself into the van with an acrobatic flip. He webs the first man’s weapon before the guy can react, yanking it away and tossing it aside. The second man lunges at him with a crowbar, but Spiderman ducks, the crowbar smashing into the wall behind him with a deafening clang.

“Stay down,” Spiderman warns, his voice firm but calm.

The first guy doesn’t listen. He charges at Spiderman, only to get a web shot to the face. Spiderman kicks him backward, sending him sprawling onto the van’s floor.

“Are you okay?” Spiderman asks, glancing at you briefly.

You nod, too stunned to speak.

The second guy doesn’t go down as easily. He’s bigger, meaner, and surprisingly agile. He swings the crowbar again, catching Spiderman in the side. The sickening sound of metal against his ribs makes your stomach turn.

Spiderman grunts in pain, stumbling but recovering quickly. He blocks the next swing with his forearm, webbing the crowbar and yanking it from the man’s grasp. “You really don’t learn, do you?” he quips, his voice strained.

Before he can finish, the first guy is back on his feet, armed with a knife. He slashes at Spiderman, who dodges narrowly but takes a glancing cut to his arm.

“Two against one,” Spiderman mutters, “that’s not very fair.”

He shoots a web at the knife, disarming the man, then uses a second web to yank him forward. Spiderman spins, using the man’s momentum against him, and sends him crashing into the wall of the van.

The second guy charges, tackling Spiderman to the ground. They grapple, fists flying, and you can see Spiderman slowing down, his movements less precise. Blood stains his suit where the knife grazed him, and he’s holding his side—likely from the earlier hit.

Your breath catches as the second guy pins him, but Spiderman surprises you, using his legs to flip the man over his head. He’s back on his feet in an instant, delivering a punch that knocks the guy out cold.

Spiderman turns to you, his breathing heavy, his posture slouched. “You’re safe now,” he says, but his voice wavers.

“Safe? You’re bleeding!” you exclaim, rushing to his side.

“It’s fine,” he says, trying to wave you off, but his movements are sluggish, and he’s gripping his ribs tightly.

“It’s not fine,” you argue, your voice rising. “You’re hurt. You need help. Come on, let’s go to my place.”

He hesitates, but when he stumbles slightly, he lets you guide him out of the van.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

You practically drag Spiderman up the fire escape to your bedroom. He’s limping, trying to downplay the extent of his injuries, but you can see the pain etched into his body language—even through the mask.

“Sit,” you order the moment you’re inside, gesturing to your bed. He hesitates, scanning the windows and doors like he’s expecting someone to burst in.

“Relax,” you add. “Nobody followed us.”

With a reluctant nod, he sinks into the couch, groaning softly. You rush to grab your first-aid kit, returning to find him still gripping his side, his masked head tilted back against the cushions.

“Alright,” you say, kneeling beside him. “I need to check your injuries. You’re gonna have to take off the mask.”

He tenses immediately, shaking his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Spiderman,” you say firmly, “you can’t breathe properly. I need to check if you’re okay. I swear, I won’t tell anyone.”

“No,” he says again, his voice edged with frustration. “I can’t. It’s... complicated.”

You sit back on your heels, crossing your arms. “Complicated? You just saved my life, and now I’m trying to save yours. What’s complicated about that?”

He looks at you for a long moment, the lenses of his mask narrowing slightly. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.”

You huff, annoyed. “Fine. At least let me patch up what I can see.”

He allows you to clean the cut on his arm, wincing slightly as you dab antiseptic on it. You notice how quiet he’s gotten, his usual witty banter replaced by a tense silence.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” you say softly, glancing up at him.

“I do,” he replies immediately, his tone clipped.

The words hit harder than you expect. You lean back, giving him space, and he stands, wobbling slightly.

“Thanks for the help,” he says, moving toward the window.

“Wait—”

“I’ll be fine,” he cuts you off, stepping onto the ledge. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

And then he’s gone, leaving you staring at the empty space where he’d been, your chest tight with frustration and worry.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

It’s been days since you last saw Spiderman. Days of walking home late at night and feeling the eerie absence of the one person who always made you feel safe. You tell yourself it’s fine. That he’s busy saving the city or maybe just giving you space. But deep down, you feel the sting of being shut out.

Mark’s been acting strange too. Not like before, when he outright ignored you, but there’s something guarded about him again—like he’s keeping secrets. You don’t know how much more of this you can take.

One evening, as you’re walking home, the silence feels unbearable. The air feels colder, heavier, without the usual sense of someone watching your back. By the time you reach your apartment, your chest feels tight with frustration. You pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent conversations.

Nothing from Spiderman.

Mark’s last text was a brief, “Can’t hang tonight, sorry.”

You shove your phone in your pocket and head straight to Mark’s apartment

When Mark opens the door, he looks surprised—and maybe a little nervous—to see you.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, trying for casual, but there’s a stiffness in his tone.

“Are you avoiding me again?” you blurt out, crossing your arms.

He blinks, clearly caught off guard. “What? No. Why would I—”

“Don’t lie to me, Mark,” you cut him off. “You’ve been weird. You’re barely texting back, and when you do, it’s like you’re walking on eggshells. What’s going on with you?”

He runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “I’m just... dealing with stuff, okay? It’s nothing to do with you.”

You step closer, lowering your voice. “You told me to trust you. To believe that you care about me. And I do, Mark. But it feels like you’re shutting me out again, and I can’t take that.”

He lets out a long sigh, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple!” you exclaim. “You’re my best friend, Mark. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something—something big. But then he stops himself, his jaw tightening.

“I can’t,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stare at him, heart sinking. “Why not?”

“Because if you knew...” He pauses, swallowing hard. “It would change everything. And I can’t risk that.”

Your mind races, frustration boiling over. “Do you even realize how hard it is for me to feel like I can’t talk to anyone? To feel like I’m losing you and—” You stop yourself, clenching your fists. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll stop asking.”

“Y/N...”

“No,” you say firmly, stepping back. “When you’re ready to actually be honest with me, let me know.”

Before he can respond, you turn and walk away, leaving him standing in the doorway, his expression conflicted.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Mark can’t stop replaying the look on your face as you walked away. The hurt in your voice, the weight of your words—it gnaws at him. For the first time in his life, he’s truly afraid he might lose you.

He paces his room, running a hand through his hair. Every excuse he’s made to keep his identity a secret feels hollow now. You deserve the truth. And if it costs him everything? At least you’ll know how much you mean to him.

Grabbing a small bouquet of flowers—ones he spotted on the way home earlier—he suits up and swings toward your apartment. The city rushes by beneath him, but for once, he doesn’t revel in the thrill of it. His heart pounds in his chest as he lands on your fire escape, crouching just outside your bedroom window.

With a deep breath, he knocks.

You look up, confused at first, but then your heart skips a beat when you see the familiar figure crouched on the fire escape. Spiderman.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even let him in after how things ended the last time. But then you sigh, walking over and unlocking the window.

“What are you doing here?” you ask flatly, crossing your arms as he steps inside.

He straightens, holding out the small bouquet of slightly squished flowers. “I, uh... I messed up,” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “And I needed to make it right.”

You glance at the flowers, then back at him, skeptical. “You think flowers are gonna fix everything?”

“No,” he admits quickly, shaking his head. “Not at all. But I’m here because... I need to tell you the truth. The whole truth.”

You raise an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “You’re finally ready to take off the mask?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, stepping closer. “But only if you promise not to freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?” you mutter, but your curiosity is piqued.

“Just—close your eyes,” he says, a nervous edge to his voice.

You hesitate for a second but do as he asks. You hear the faint rustle of fabric, the sound of him taking off his mask. Then, gently, he takes your hands in his and places them on his face. His skin is warm under your fingertips, and you can feel the slight tremor of his nerves.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Open your eyes.”

You do—and your breath catches in your throat.

“Mark?”

He winces, giving you a sheepish smile. “Surprise?”

Your hands fall from his face as you take a step back, staring at him in utter disbelief. “What the actual hell?! Mark, you’re Spiderman?!”

“Yeah...” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to tell you, I really did. But I couldn’t. Not until now.”

You blink at him, processing. Suddenly, all the weird behavior, the ditching, the injuries—it all makes sense. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time,” you say, your voice shaking slightly.

“I wasn’t lying,” he says quickly. “I was just... protecting you. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then you stop, taking a deep breath. “Why now, then? Why tell me now?”

“Because I couldn’t lose you,” he says, his voice raw with sincerity. “I know I’ve messed up a lot, and I’ve hurt you, and I hate myself for that. But you’re the most important person in my life, and if being honest is the only way to fix this, then... here I am. No more secrets.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his words. You take a step closer, searching his face. “You’re an idiot,” you say quietly.

He nods, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “I know.”

“But I guess... I can forgive you,” you add, your voice softening. “Eventually.”

The tension in his shoulders eases, and he lets out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

There’s a pause, the air between you heavy with unspoken feelings.

“So...” you say, tilting your head. “What now?”

“Well,” he says, his smile growing, “I was kinda hoping we could start over. But, like, as more than friends this time.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now too. “I guess saving me from a mugger earns you some points.”

“Good,” he says, stepping closer. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you meet his gaze, the truth in his eyes making your knees feel weak.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Before either of you can overthink it, you close the distance between you, pulling him into a kiss that feels like it’s been years in the making. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and for once, everything feels right.

Maybe for once Spiderman can have a happy ending.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

author's note 𝟅𝟈 this was a bitch to finish i'm ngl but i think i'm pretty happy with how it turned out so yay! i love spiderman sm so yk i love spidermark too. anyways leave suggestions for fics in the comments or my inbox pls.

masterlist.

[urichilsworld]

i’ll get banned if i open my mouth…

[dearlyd3parted]

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!”

1.

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

[viasdreams]

SMAU with spidermark pretty please !! (200 still has me in a death grip can you tell) 🕷❤️💙

ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙

texts with spidermark !!

a/n: if 200 has no fans, IM DEAD !! i love u 200 forever and always <333

ALSO the date mark “bailed” on isn’t the sightseeing date!! you and mark had a very lovely time flying through the city together 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[neverbeurs]

Omfg just saw ur dad spiderman mark au AND ITS SOOO GOOD CLD WE PERHAPS GET ANOTHER ONE WHEN his daughter has a bf in kindergarten and mark got super jealous and protective????

EEEEE stop i love spiderdad mark so much 🥹🥹 im so sorry uts been so long anon 😭 but here u go i hope u enjoy <3

spider mark × g!n reader

warnings : fluff, just pure fluff, jealous/overprotective spiderdad mark, spiders, webs, puppy love, kindergarten sweethearts TT, kisses <33, mark is a simp for you !!!!, they’re so in love i might just kms

read pt1 of the spider-dad chronicles. (optional!)

mark wasn’t one to be jealous, he really wasn’t. so why was he glaring daggers at the little boy sitting next to his daughter on-top of the slide. now, don’t get mark wrong, he trusted his daughter with his whole heart. but knowing that everyone but him knew she had a boyfriend at the ripe age of four and a half was baffling.

“babe.. why didn’t you tell me?” mark whined for the nth time, tugging at your shirt as he kept his eyes on the way the little slightly tannedboy treated jinni. you sighed, hugging him and pecking his lips softly.

“she told me she didn’t want me to tell you, plus, i thought donghyuck would’ve told you..”

“dONGHYUCK..?!? shes dating his son?! nope. im not having it.” mark scoffs, shaking his head and standing up straight to walk over to the toddlers.

you place a hand on his chest and softly push him to sit back down on the bench, cupping his face to make him look at you. “mark, just let the kids be.. its only a puppy love, they’ll forget about it eventually when they get older.” you reassure him, leaning in to get a taste of his pouting lips.

“yeah, but… we were also a puppy love, and look at us now!” he softly whines, pouting even more as he squints his eyes at the little boy helping his daughter up the steep steps of the playground.

“babe, we were both in first grade when we met.” you playfully roll your eyes, leaning your head against your husband’s chest.

“so?” he furrows his brows, leaving a kiss on the back of your hand before playing with it.

your heart flutters, a soft blush growing on your cheeks at his random acts of affection that have you falling in love and wanting to get married again. “they’re in kindergarten.” you say, looking up at him from your place on his chest.

he looks down at you, the words in the back of his throat ready to leave when he suddenly forgets everything but the way your pretty eyes look up at him. mark slightly clears his throat, neck and face burning up. “..and? that’s basically the same thing.”

you giggle at the fact that his words don’t really make sense. “we were both either six or seven years old when we were in first grade, mark, the kids are barely four.”

“two years isn’t that much of a difference, they’re basically already in high schoo—” you cut him off by sweetly kissing him, hands cupping his face as he sighs and melts into the kiss. he leans his forehead on yours, arms wrapping around your waist.

your kisses were his favorite thing to destress with. he would go hours and hours just kissing you if he could. the canadian would constantly kiss you, be it anywhere. your husband just couldn’t keep his lips off you, but you loved it.

you loved the way he would melt into your hold when you kissed him, the way he would throw away anything for just a kiss from you, the way he always made sure to kiss you softly and sweetly, not to mention the fact that he always asks before doing so like a proper gentleman.

“so.. why didn’t you tell me about the fact that your son had been hitting on my daughter..?!” the canadian male asks the tanned male, eyes glaring at the younger male. donghyuck chuckles, having pulled off his mask to drink his cup of.. banana milk?

“listen, milk-”

“mark.”

“milk. as i was saying.. it’s not that much of a big deal, it’s just a silly lil’ puppy love.” donghyuck says, shrugging as he chugs the rest of his banana milk. his black and red deadpool suit blending in well with the night as he stands up on the side of the parking lot edge.

mark looks up at the male, softly swinging his legs back and forth as he looks at the night sky instead. “.. my little girl is growing up..” he mumbled, memories of when jinni was first born, when she took her first step, when she finally learned she could shoot webs, when she spoke his name, all flooded his mind as his eyes slightly glossed over.

“i love my family,”

“okay, we get it mister ‘friendly neighborhood spider-dad-man’.”

“oh shut up, donghyuck!”

“make me~ … wAIT. NO. NOT THE WEB- MFPH!”

“you had it coming, lee.”

the ending was slightly rushed bcz i just wanted to publish it before i end up forgetting 😥

but i hope you enjoyed <3

© vqlentinez 2024

[cheollollipop]

what’s your favorite fruit? | mark lee.

genre: fluff.

wc: 2.6k

Day One

The thing is, I don't usually do this.

I have my routine. My table. My people. My corner of the courtyard where the sun hits just right and the breeze feels like free therapy. It's not that I don't like Jeno or Haechan or Jaemin. I do. They're funny and loud and dramatic in ways that never feel mean. It's just that our friendship's always been occasional. Hallway conversations, project pair-ups, chaotic birthday parties where someone ends up duct taped to a chair.

And Mark?

We have chemistry class together. That's it.

We've exchanged a handful of sentences. Polite ones. Careful. Always with this weird, hesitant pause between them, like the words are trying not to bump into each other too hard.

Which is exactly why what I'm about to do is so stupid.

I spot them across the cafeteria, corner table, usual spot, laughter already spilling out from Haechan like he's performing for an imaginary audience. Jaemin's mid-story. Jeno's trying to drink a juice box without using his hands.

Mark's there too, hood up, sleeves covering his hands, head tilted slightly like he's listening but not saying much.

I pause, tray in hand, heart pounding like I'm walking into a final exam naked. And then I walk straight toward them.

"Hey," I say as casually as possible, which is to say not casually at all. "Mind if I join you guys?"

Everything stops.

Haechan's straw makes a horrific slurping noise as he freezes mid sip and Jeno slowly blinks, like his brain is buffering.

Jaemin says, "Huh," very quietly, and then, louder, "Well, well, well."

Mark looks up. And his eyes land on me like he wasn't expecting this in any universe.

I regret everything instantly.

"I just didn't feel like sitting outside today," I add quickly, even though no one asked. "Sun's annoying."

"It's cloudy," Jaemin points out.

"I'm fragile," I shoot back.

That earns a laugh, and Jaemin gestures with a sweeping arm. "Seat's all yours, milady."

"Don't be weird," Jeno says, scooting over anyway.

I slide into the spot between Jeno and Mark, pretending it doesn't feel like the single most significant seating decision of my life.

Mark shifts slightly. Not away. Just... adjusts.

And suddenly we're sitting next to each other. Close enough that I can smell the faint detergent on his hoodie. Close enough to feel how tense he is, even as he stares down at his tray like he would rather be anywhere but here.

"So," Haechan says slowly, leaning in way too dramatically. "What brings you to our humble corner of chaos?"

"I needed a break from my usual group," I lie.

"She means she wanted to sit with her real friends," Jaemin says, beaming. "Welcome home."

I laugh, but it comes out shaky. "You guys do know we're technically friends, right?"

"Barely," Jeno shrugs. "But we're open to change."

There's a beat.

And then, without looking up, Haechan says, "So, just to clarify...this isn't about Mark?"

Mark chokes on his water.

"What?" I ask.

Mark coughs, face turning a very specific shade of red as he wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "What? No. Why would it—no. It's not. Right?"

I panic. "No! I mean...no. Definitely not."

Another beat of silence.

Then Jaemin grins. "Cool cool cool. Just checking."

"Super casual," Jeno adds.

"Extremely normal," Haechan says.

Mark lets out a breath that might actually be a whimper as I focus very hard on my sandwich.

"So," Jeno says, leaning back like he's easing into an interrogation, "what's everyone's favorite... uh... fruit?"

I glance up. "What?"

"Fruit," Jaemin repeats. "Totally normal conversation."

"I swear to God," Haechan mutters under his breath, but he's already grinning.

"I like apples," Jeno says, too quickly. "Crunchy. Consistent. A little nervous sometimes."

"You just described a snack and a person," I say, frowning.

"No, no, he's right," Jaemin chimes in. "Apples are great. Especially when they're, like, sitting at your lunch table unexpectedly."

Mark, is frozen like he thinks if he doesn't move, no one can see him.

"Personally," Haechan says, leaning forward with narrowed eyes, "I like blueberries. Hard to read. Roll away when you try to catch them. Kind of mysterious."

"I—okay," I say slowly. "Are we... still talking about fruit?"

"Are you not?" Jeno asks, deadpan.

Mark has officially stopped breathing.

"Actually," Jaemin adds thoughtfully, "bananas are underrated. They panic in the bowl for a week and then are suddenly perfect for three seconds before everything falls apart."

"That's not a fruit," I say. "That's a breakdown."

"Exactly," Jaemin nods solemnly.

I look between all of them. "What is happening right now."

"Nothing," Jeno says. "Just fruit. We're very healthy."

"So healthy," Jaemin echoes.

"You're all unwell."

"Some might say," Haechan says, with a sly look, "that a new fruit has arrived at the table."

"Oh my God," I mutter. "Stop calling me a fruit."

"We didn't say it was you," Jeno says innocently.

"You literally said 'a fruit arrived at the table.'"

"Maybe we meant a grape," Haechan says.

"She's definitely not a grape," Jaemin says. "She's like... a pomegranate. Cool on the outside, mysterious, and hard to open."

Mark's face is slowly turning the exact color of said pomegranate.

"Okay," I say, holding up a hand. "I need someone to use one-" I hold up a finger, "actual sentence or I'm leaving this table forever."

"Mark," Jeno blurts out. "Likes apples."

Mark makes a noise that can only be described as internal combustion.

"What?" I ask.

"I mean," Jeno recovers, backtracking so fast he might fall over, "I mean he brought an apple. To lunch. Earlier. Like, last week."

"Was it crunchy?" Jaemin adds, nodding way too hard.

"I'm going to peel my skin off," Mark mutters into his water bottle.

We sit in awkward silence and my head feels like it's about to explode from the confusion.

Then I raise a brow. "So Mark likes apples. Got it. Huge revelation."

Mark manages to say something. Sort of. "They're... a safe fruit."

I turn to him.

"That's fair," I say. "Bananas are stressful."

Mark nods like I just agreed to marry him.

Eventually the conversation veers off into Haechan ranking school bathrooms from best to worst and Jaemin trying to get someone to give him their cookie in exchange for "emotional loyalty." But the tension lingers like an unspoken something hovering just under the table.

When the bell rings and we start packing up, Jeno whispers across the table to Haechan, "Mission... moderate success?"

"Yeah," Haechan replies. "Code Fruit initiated. Target is laughing."

"Target is confused," I say as I sling my backpack on.

Mark lingers beside me as we head toward the doors, still quiet, still red-eared. He glances at me once, and I offer a crooked smile.

"So, uh... apples, huh?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "They're simple. And sweet."

I raise an eyebrow, teasing. "You calling me simple?"

His eyes go wide. "No! No, not you. I didn't mean—wait—you're not an apple, you're—uh—"

I laugh. "Relax. I'm a pomegranate, remember?"

He nods, sheepish. "Definitely not a grape."

And for a second, just one second, I think maybe he is talking about me.

Even if he doesn't say it.

Day Three

I sit down before they can say anything.

Jaemin offers me a fry in stunned silence. Haechan sits frozen. Jeno looks vaguely impressed.

Mark stares at his tray, but I catch the smile before he hides it.

"Morning," I say, stealing Jaemin's juice box without asking.

No one questions it.

Day Six

Haechan makes a big deal about assigning everyone a "cafeteria code name."

Jeno is "Backpack Dad."

Jaemin is "Theater Emergency."

Mark is "Quiet Thunder."

And I get "Tiny Tyrant."

"You literally threatened me with a fork yesterday," Haechan says when I protest.

Mark smiles for the entire five-minute argument and doesn't say a word.

Day Nine

Mark brings two granola bars.

He doesn't say it's for me.

But when I open my tray and sigh, "Forgot my snack," he casually slides one over without looking up.

I grin. "Thanks."

He shrugs. "You always forget."

My stomach does something.

Day Twelve

Jeno spills his drink.

Haechan screams.

Jaemin says, "This is a metaphor for my life."

I hand Mark a napkin without looking.

"Thanks," he mutters, but then adds, "You're good at this. Like... us. Sitting here."

"Is that your way of saying I belong?"

He shrugs again. Smiling this time. "Maybe."

Day Seventeen

Jaemin says something stupid. I shoot back without missing a beat. Haechan gasps like I insulted royalty. Jeno gives me a slow clap. Mark nearly chokes on his sandwich.

"You've become one of us," Jeno says dramatically.

"Does that come with benefits?"

"Yes," Haechan replies. "Free trauma and shared fries."

I laugh and realize I haven't looked at my old table in over two weeks.

Day Twenty-One

Mark and I say the same thing at the same time.

Everyone goes silent. Jaemin slaps the table like it's a buzzer. Haechan shouts, "Soulmates!" before Mark nearly tackles him.

I'm bright red. Mark's ears are even worse.

We don't talk the rest of lunch. But when we stand up to leave, his arm brushes mine and he doesn't move away.

Day Twenty-Eight

We're late to lunch, both of us coming from chem.

When we sit down together, already laughing about a lab mix-up, Haechan stops mid sentence and says, "Oh wow. It's real."

"What's real?" I ask.

"Nothing," Jeno says quickly. "Group chat stuff."

Jaemin gives me a knowing look and bumps my shoulder with his.

I think maybe... I'm not the new one anymore.

I'm just one of them.

Day Thirty-Two

"You always steal the corner piece of my sandwich," Mark says, watching me chew like I just committed treason.

"That's because it's the best part."

He narrows his eyes. "I was saving it."

I smirk. "Then save faster."

Jaemin chokes. Jeno stares at Mark like he's watching a wildlife documentary. Haechan makes a "oooOOOOoooo" sound and gets a chip thrown at him.

Mark doesn't say anything else. But he slides his sandwich toward me.

Day Thirty-Five

"Your handwriting is impossible," I tell him, tapping his notebook.

He shrugs. "You figured it out anyway."

"You left out every third vowel."

"You decoded it."

"I'm concerned you think that counts as legible."

"I'm concerned you care enough to read my notes," he says softly, smirking at his tray.

And I shut up. Because... yeah.

Jaemin starts slow clapping. Jeno just whispers, "It's happening," to himself.

Day Thirty-Eight

Mark says I look different today.

"Different how?"

"I don't know. Good different."

"Oh. So I looked bad yesterday?"

"I didn't say that—"

"I'm wounded."

"You're twisting my words!"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Haechan mutters.

Mark looks ready to implode.

I try not to smile too wide. I fail.

Day Forty-One

We sit a little too close. Not on purpose. Not... technically.

Our knees bump under the table. Neither of us moves.

When I pass him my cookie without asking, Mark takes it, but says, "I'm starting to feel spoiled."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Jaemin sings.

Mark throws a napkin at him. Jaemin dodges and bows.

"You know this is gonna kill me, right?" Jeno mutters, biting into his sandwich.

"No, no," Haechan says. "This is the slow burn. It's good for character development."

Mark glances at me.

And for the first time...

I don't look away.

Day Forty-Five

"Can you not look at her like that during lunch?" Haechan hisses at Mark while I'm opening my juice box.

"Like what?" Mark says, scandalized.

"You know what."

Jaemin sighs. "It's like watching two shy golden retrievers try to date."

Jeno, deadpan, "Mark's allergic to dogs."

Mark whispers to me, "I'm not allergic to you, though."

I spit juice through my nose.

Chaos erupts.

We do not recover.

Day Fifty-Two

The flirting is real.

The tension is loud.

And at this point, the whole table knows.

It's only a matter of time.

I should've known something was off when no one spoke for the first full minute of lunch.

Not a single chaotic story. No Haechan trying to convince us to join his fake band. No Jaemin retelling a dream with unnecessarily vivid hand motions. Not even Jeno giving his daily weather rant despite us being indoors.

Just silence.

Which is worse.

Much worse.

"Okay," I say slowly, setting my tray down beside Mark, "what's going on?"

Jaemin looks at Haechan.

Haechan looks at Jeno.

Jeno sighs like he's about to deliver a eulogy. "We have something to say."

Mark immediately tenses beside me. His hands retreat into the sleeves of his hoodie like he's trying to hide inside himself.

I freeze. "If this is about the grape juice I spilled last week—"

"It's not," Haechan says. Then adds, "But that was suspiciously timed."

"It was an accident!"

"Sure," Jaemin mutters.

Mark has now stopped blinking.

Jeno claps his hands once. "Okay. Operation Soft Launch has failed. The people demand answers."

"What does that even mean—"

"YN," Jaemin cuts in, eyes wide with concern. "Are you aware that Mark has been staring at you like a Disney prince for the last seven weeks?"

Mark makes a sound like someone just hit him with a dodgeball.

I turn slowly. "What."

"I—" Mark stammers. "No—I haven't been—It's not—They're exaggerating."

"They're not," Haechan says. "And we're tired."

"Of what?" I ask, now fully spiraling.

"The tension," Jeno says, stabbing his salad dramatically. "The longing looks. The sandwich sharing. The cookie exchanges. You guys are basically married in lunch table terms."

"I—"

"And we," Jaemin says, gesturing between the three of them, "as your friends, your people, your ride or die chaos team, are here to say that Mark has something to tell you."

Everyone looks at him.

Mark's ears are the color of emergency sirens.

He clears his throat. Then again. Then a third time like he's buffering.

"Okay," he says quietly, eyes fixed on the table, "uh. So... I like you."

The table goes still.

Mark's hand is gripping the edge of his tray like he's afraid it might levitate.

"I like you," he repeats, louder this time. "Like... like-like. And I've been trying to say it, but I kept…well. Failing."

My brain stops working for a solid three seconds.

"Oh," I say. "Wow."

"Sorry," Mark says quickly. "You don't have to say anything. I just—uh—I wanted you to know. Before Jaemin started handing out flyers or something."

"I did have a flyer draft," Jaemin mutters.

"Mark," I interrupt, turning to him fully. "You... like me?"

He nods, still refusing to look up.

I glance at Jeno, then Haechan, then Jaemin, who gives me a massive do it, coward look.

And I say, "Well. That's good. Because I like-like you too."

Mark stills.

The boys collectively gasp like they just witnessed the moon land on Earth.

"You do?" Mark asks, eyes wide.

"Yeah. I mean, it wasn't the sandwich sharing. But it helped."

He laughs nervously and relieved and still in shock.

"So, um," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you maybe want to... go out? With me? Like not just sit at lunch out. Like real out. A date."

I grin. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Mark exhales the biggest breath of his life.

Jaemin throws a fry in the air like a confetti cannon. "YES. THANK YOU."

"We did it," Haechan whispers dramatically.

Jeno fist bumps himself. "God's strongest soldiers."

Mark and I just sit there, trying to pretend we're not smiling like idiots while our friends collectively implode in the background.

And for once, I don't try to deflect with a joke. Because maybe I don't need to.

「 🕷️masterlist🕷️ 」

[seqenade]

- - - - - 🕷️ - - - - -

- - - - - 🕷️ - - - - -

[animeloverstudentfan-blog]

Mark is so spider man 2000’s Boyfriend coded

With his channel, I just love it, love whatever mark does actually.

Mark is so spider man 2000’s coded

I literally love mark, that’s the post

But I like what mark is doing for his album no soloist (to my knowledge) has done something like this, I like how even though we the fans see this he’s also like letting us into his life like this, and with his channel, he (to me) is just a YouTuber, a vlogger, a person, different from the idol life he lives. I hope that’s not weird and makes sense, but like these are videos you’ll send your friends when you want to show off something you got or a haul of stuff you got.

[jisungderman]

[weeeeeekly]

“are you okay?” – mark lee x gn!reader

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blurb On Earth-127, Mark is an ordinary biomed major at Neo Culture Institute of Technology, but when he’s not studying for class, he’s out saving New York City as Spider-Man. The job is hard, but he manages it. It also doesn’t hurt that his new friend is just his type.

info not edited, no afab/fem mention, mainly gender neutral, no reader body shape mention, no use of y/n, swearing, non-idol au, college au, college student!mark, spiderman!mark (obvi), reader is assigned lactose intolerant. johnny & jaehyun as mark’s besties. mark & reader are 22 and johnny & jaehyun are 24. everyone else is 21. ft. jungwoo & 00 line of nct/riize as frat bros. loosely based off a combo of the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house, 200 music video, & superman ii

WARNINGS!!! SFW but MDNI 18+ blog, kinda suggestive but nothing explicit in this, swearing, mentions of almost dying, not proofread just pure free flowing thought, mention of vaping (not by mark or reader), & mention of consuming alcohol

wc: 7.8k

author’s note !! HAPPY belated MFING BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL BOYF MARK LEE. i meant to post this right after 200 came out, then for his birthday, and now it’s finally finished as an early birthday present for myself… this is very much self-indulgent.

a passion project if you will. i hope there are others that also have spider-mark brain rot. ESPECIALLY AFTER 200!!! it was bad before like in the ncit house video, but it’s even worse now. a real labor of love except everything i do is a labor of love because why would i write about something i’m not passionate about in my free time.

this is FICTION!!!!! everything is made up by me or inspired by the mcu spider-man movies, ncit house video, & mark’s 200 music video. the stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned.

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Mark loves his job.

Nothing made him happier than donning the red and blue one-piece suit with the arachnoid symbol on the center of the chest and pulling down the matching mask. He was pretty proud of his sewing skills. Hopefully the elderly owner of the downtown fabric store never puts the puzzle pieces together.

He was still fairly new to being Spider-Man – only being bitten at the beginning of last semester and using the summer to work out the kinks – this spring semester would show his improvement.

His school schedule was class schedule was calm with classes only on Tuesday and Thursday in the morning and evening with the rest online. With the perfect amount of time throughout busy days to sneak away to patrol the city. The rest of the weekdays were dedicated to working at the college radio station. It allowed Mark to work around his own schedule as he could pre-record segments and cue up pre-made playlists.

The morning of the first day of the new semester was looking like an average day, helping civilians with minimal tasks like crossing busy streets and saving pets in trees.

Swinging to university was his favorite form of transportation as it was convenient but at the same time fun as sailing through the air was incomparable to any other experience. Mark landed on the roof of the old bell tower as he quickly changed into a pair of clothes he stashed in a hidden backpack on the ceiling ledge. Nothing too exciting, just a maroon tee, brown cargo pants, and black converse. He made quick work to stash his suit inside his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

He walked down the spiral staircase as he put on his headphones and checked his phone.

            apartment 721

johnny dude r u coming to shoot some hoops?

jaehyun are we playing basketball or should I skip for football practice?

mark be there in 5

Mark raced across the university lawn, passing unassuming students that would never know his secret. The early morning hours provided more security for his secret as most people around him were either too busy rushing to their 8 AM lecture or too tired from pulling another all-nighter.

When he reached the basketball courts, Mark tucked his bag in between Jaehyun’s massive athletic bag and Johnny’s decked out in pins and patches. The duo was goofing off with a basketball as they made obnoxious moves before shooting for the hoop.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.”

Johnny pauses as he turns toward his best friend before tossing the ball. Mark effortlessly catches it due to his built-up reflexes from stopping local crimes.

“Yo guess who finally decided to show up.” Johnny remarks as Mark makes a 3 pointer.

Jaehyun and Johnny both share a look as the former greets Mark, “You’ve gotten really good at basketball in a short amount of time… like crazy good.”

“Yeah man. You used to not be able to even get the ball in while standing still, but now you’re even better than Mr. Team Captain over here.”

Mark shrugs as he dribbles the ball, “I’m not even close to Jaehyun’s level, dude. He’s the best player.”

“Okay then go to the other side of the court and make it in.”

Mark looks at Johnny as Jaehyun chugs some water but gives in as he walks to the end of the court.

Mark is pretty sure that his sharp reflexes only work for short distances or when he’s out being Spider-Man, so the dare shouldn’t tip his best friends off. Mark dribbles the ball a bit before throwing the ball in the direction of the hoop.

Luckily, the ball goes over the hoop and proving to Johnny and Jaehyun that he still sucks at basketball, but unluckily almost hits a passerby.

You.

“Airball!”

You turn to the source of the noise as you let out a surprised yell as you duck to avoid the rouge basketball, falling to the ground and letting out a string of curses. Mark rushes over after his Spidey senses went off, shooting a ball of webs to knock it off its course of hitting you.

“Are you okay?”

You look up to see a concerned Mark as he helps you up, “Dude, I am so sorry. That could have ended really badly. Did you get hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Johnny and Jaehyun follow Mark to check up on you as you stare at the 3 attractive men paying too much attention to you.

“I’m okay, really. I didn’t even get hit. Just was caught off guard.”

The trio are unconvinced as they inspect your arms and head. Mark is focused on checking for any injury – even a millimeter of a scratch – on your right arm as Jaehyun checks the range of motion on your left arm and Johnny is asking you how many fingers he’s holding up.

“I’m not hurt, but I’ll still get checked up the clinic.” You bargain to get the attractive strangers to stop dotting over you.

“I’ll walk you!” Mark volunteers as he grabs your backpack off the floor and waves bye to his friends. Johnny and Jaehyun refuse to leave until they exchange their number with you to check up but also to make it up to you later. You tell them that it’s not necessary, but the pair insist as Mark gets you to leave.

He quickly introduces himself and you do it in return. Walking to the clinic was peaceful as both you and Mark’s steps were in sync. The crisp spring air helped calm your nerves. You know that you weren’t hurt but it would be best to get a check-up by a nurse.

“I’m really sorry again.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Let’s just get you to the clinic.”

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After a quick check-up with a nurse, you are deemed “okay” with no external or internal injuries. Mark gives you back your backpack as you thank him and are returned with another long string of apologies.

“Here, let me – no us – make it up to you.” Mark opens his phone to create a group chat between the four of you.

            we’re sorry

            mark if ur free this week we would like to buy u lunch

            bc dinner sounds like a date

            not that we wouldn’t date u

            u seem great !

            this is mark btw

            johnny what mark is trying to say is that we don’t want to make you uncomfortable

but we also want to make it up to you so lunch this week - johnny

            jaehyun it’s jaehyun i know a great café w vegan options

            you you guys really don’t have to make it up to me

            i’m okay !! a nurse checked me

            johnny thank god ur not hurt

“So, are you free this week?”

You look away from your phone at Mark staring at you. You quickly look away at the students walking past you. You feel nervous as Mark is cute and being near him is not helping your poor heart.

“Yeah, I can do Wednesday or this weekend.”

You have to work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with your two in-person classes on the other days and your two fully online classes spread throughout the week. Luckily, working at the bookstore on campus was flexible and allowed you to complete homework whenever you had free time.

“I know this is an annoying question, but what’s your year and major?”

“I’m a sophomore majoring in Health Sciences.”

Mark’s eyes light up, “I’m a sophomore too! But I’m a Biomed major. We’re kinda in similar majors.”

“We might even have a class together.” You joke and let out a laugh, but your mouth shuts as Mark has his printed schedule in hands and extended in your direction.

Your joke turns out to be true as you both share the same evening class on Tuesday and Thursday. Which is a good thing because at least you know someone in that class. A friend possibly.

“Do you work?”

“I work at the radio, so if you ever tune into 27.1 FM you will hear playlists I put together.”

“Ugh, that sounds like such a fun job. I work at the bookstore. I mean, don’t get me wrong I like it there, but it’s never busy for my shifts.”

A notification on Mark’s phone makes him freeze up, but before you can ask what’s wrong he quickly bids you goodbye as he rushes off. You decide to head to work and hope that nothing else out of the ordinary happens today.

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On the plus side, your shared class with Mark has been going well so far. During the first class the day after you met him, you got to the classroom early and saved him a seat.

You watch as people slowly trickle into class as you held out a small hope that Mark would want to sit next to you. The class was almost full with just a handful of seats left – two directly in front of the professor’s podium, one in the very back by the other door, and the one you’ve been saving. He arrives at the last minute, and you watch him scan the room, hopefully looking for you, but once your eyes meet and Mark grins, your heart started racing.

Squeezing between people already in their seats, he reaches the open seat as you move your backpack from the chair to under the table. The professor starts the first day lecture of going over the syllabus, but you tune them out as your attention was… elsewhere.

Mark sits next to you, typing on his laptop as the professor talks. His outfit is a simple green hoodie with tan cargo pants and beat up black converse, yet the outfit compliments him. His hair is fluffy and a little messy as he runs his hand through it in an attempt to fix it. You notice that he’s breathing hard like he ran to get to class. You reach into your backpack to grab your water bottle and place it next to his hand. Mark pauses from typing notes as you turn your head back to the professor.

“Thanks.” He mumbles as he drinks the water.

“Don’t worry, I have another water bottle in my car. You can just give it back to me next class.” You whisper back while pretending to be interested in the professor’s grading policy.

When the second class rolls around, you’re surprised to see Mark is the first person in class, sitting in the same spot with his backpack on the seat you were sitting in last time and your water bottle on the table.

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Saturday is the only day you are all free for lunch. Jaehyun, who keeps telling you to call him Jae, promises that this lunch will be the best lunch of your life and how he knows a worker. He’s brought it up every time he saw you while you were working. Johnny was no help either as he kept asking you super specific questions you would have no idea how to answer.

Johnny leans on a display table full of notebooks while flipping through a psychology textbook, “What kind of wood is this table?”

You let out another deep sigh as you put on your customer service voice to answer yet another question from Johnny Suh. “Sorry, I don’t know.”

“Do you know someone who would?”

Johnny smirks as he puts on his sunglasses. You turn around to reshelve new chemistry textbooks when a tap on your shoulder has you seeing Jaehyun holding a cookbook open.

“Do you like” He turns the cookbook back to himself as he squints, “Maultaschen?”

“What do you know about Germany?”

Jaehyun closes the cookbook as he shoots you his best dimpled smile, “Nothing.”

“Guys, I’m trying to work.”

“Yeah, and we’re being customers.”

Johnny sasses you as he pushes the cart of textbooks away from you. “Don’t pretend that we don’t make your shifts better.”

You can’t argue that because it is true, but you’re also afraid that your boss might think you’re slacking and goofing around with friends on the clock.

“I do love it when you guys come see me while I’m working, but I don’t want my boss to think I’m slacking.”

Jaehyun leans on your shoulder as he looks around the empty bookstore. “Bro, you’re the best employee here by far, but if your boss thinks otherwise, we can give a good review.”

“You? Slacking?” Johnny lets out a laugh as puts some textbooks on the highest shelf. “Slacking is scared of you. And Spider-Man.”

“Here he goes.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes as Johnny scoffs.

“Spider-Man is the coolest superhero ever. I’m jealous of all the people that get to see him work in real time.”

“Spider-Man?”

Johnny’s jaw drops, “Yo… you don’t know Spider-Man? You know, the masked guy in blue and red and has a spider sign on his chest. Stops bank robbers and saves people in car crashes. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?”

“Oh… his name is Spider-Man?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna brag, but” Johnny leans closer to you, “I basically coined the name. The story’s really cool and super long, so I’ll save it for lunch.”

The other brunette fixes his backpack straps, “I should head to basketball practice soon, but we’ll text you later with the details. See you tomorrow.”

The duo leaves you to finish your tasks, but with less work as they helped while talking to you. You can’t help fighting the smile on your face at the idea of having plans with friends.

Lunch! With friends! Friends that you made in university and not the same friends you had back home that you knew from elementary school.

Maybe things were looking up for you.

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Spider-Man business had never been easier. Petty thefts had gone down. The city was running smoothly like normal, which was great for Mark as he could focus on schoolwork and improving his swinging skills.

Currently, the vigilante was patrolling the city on the lookout for any danger. Nothing was coming through the crime watch app connected to his watch. He has 10 more minutes until lunch with Johnny, Jaehyun, and You.

Once he reaches the café building’s rooftop, Mark drops down and enters through the stairwell door going directly into the janitor’s room to change. The doors are unlocked, which is not the safest but it’s convenient for Mark, he quickly changes into a white tee, light wash jeans, and the same black converse. The suit and mask are stuffed into his backpack as he goes back out to the roof to web down to the ground to enter through the café entrance like a normal person.

He's constantly on the lookout as he drops down near the trash bins. When he walks in, Mark is the first out of your group to arrive. He snags a booth in the corner as he checks his phone.

            we’re sorry

            mark i got us a booth

            jaehyun be there in 5

            image attached

Mark smiles at the selfie Jaehyun took with him and Johnny on either side of you. Jaehyun does a peace sign pose, Johnny is making a kissy face, and you’re just softly smiling. A smile that Mark Lee cannot look away from.

“What are you looking at?”

Mark gets spooked by you as Johnny and Jaehyun slide into the opposite side leaving you to sit next to him. He quickly locks his phone as his roommates give him teasing looks.

The server, Na Jaemin from fraternity Dream, hands out menus and readies his tablet. “Hi. Can I get you all started with any drinks?”

“2 vanilla iced coffees, 1 mango smoothie, and 1 ice matcha latte with coconut milk.” Johnny easily recites as Jaemin types it.

“I’ll be back with those as you look over the menu.”

As Jaemin walks away, you look surprised at Johnny, “How did you know my drink order?”

“You’ve sent a selfie with the same drink the past three days.”

You slump back against the cushion. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Not as embarrassing as Johnny thinking he named Spider-Man.”

Mark tenses at the mention of his other identity. He steals a glance in your direction to see if you noticed, but you’re too busy watching his friends start bickering.

“Bro! I totally did!”

“No, dude. You did not.”

Before the duo can start up another pointless fight, you remind Johnny of his story time.

“At least someone’s interested. As I was saying before, it was early October last year and I was walking to the subway when this massive car crash happened in front of me. I thought I was going to get killed, but then I was suddenly out of the way. Some dude in spandex had pulled me out of the way of one of the cars and then he started pulling people out of the wreck. He even jumped over a 10-ton truck. It was insane. After the fire department and ambulance came to help, the dude shot out a web and it came to me, “Spider-Man”, so I yelled that, and he turned around to give me a thumbs up before swinging away. So basically Spider-Man owes me for that copyright, but I’ll let it slide because he saved my life.”

Mark laughs at Johnny’s retelling of the story because of the way he tells people. The superhero was just glad that he had the spidey sense to save one of his best friends.

Jaemin comes back with the drinks and takes food orders.

“Spider-Man is cool. I’m a fan.”

Mark chokes on the first sip of his smoothie from your casual confession as Johnny high fives you.

“Why do you like the Spider Boy?” Jaehyun questions you. Mark sits up slightly straighter in his seat as he focuses all his attention on your answer.

“Do you remember that major subway incident where some asshole pushed that lady onto the tracks?”

The guys nod their heads.

“I was waiting for the train when it happened. I didn’t see the asshole that did it as I was on my phone, but then the frantic yelling of people started and some good samaritans trying to help the lady off the tracks. Then, all of the sudden, Spider-Man runs in and saves her. Thank god he did before the train arrived and he calmed her down while she told him about the person who did it. I just remember feeling so useless but wanting to do more.”

Mark looks over at you as you stir your drink with a spoon, his heart sinking as he remembers. It was the first time he became a hero. The first person he saved – Ms. Smith works at the corner flower shop that his mom loves.

“And I even… never mind.”

“No finish your sentence.”

“Johnny’s going to make fun of me.”

“I won’t let him.”

“Well, I kinda have a crush on him.” You immediately put your head between your arms on the table in an effort to hide away.

Mark freezes at your confession as Jaehyun lets out an “awe” and Johnny’s jaw drops.

“You like Spider-Man?”

“I know. How do you even like a person when you’ve never seen their face, but it’s his personality. In every story about him saving or helping others, he’s always described as the nicest person ever.”

Mark’s ears are turning red from the compliment. He would have asked for what else you thought about Spider-Man, but Jaemin came back with their orders.

“Yo Jaehyun, are you coming to DREAM’s party Friday?”

“I should be free next week if that invitation extends to my friends.”

“Any friend of Jaehyun’s is a friend of mine. Can you get the football team to bring kegs again? Haechan’s throwing the party this time and he won’t shut the fuck up about it.”

“I can get the guys together to do that. I’ll text him.”

“Thanks man. Enjoy your food, guys.”

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You and Mark meet up and walk to class together. He fills you in on all the bullshit Johnny and Jaehyun got into over the weekend. Something about making a short film where they switch bodies and tried to get Mark to film it.

Before you both can enter the building where your class is, the distant sound of sirens gets closer. You ignore it as you go to open the door, but Mark stops you.

“I, um, have a family emergency so I’ll miss class. Text me. Bye.” Mark weirdly stammers before giving you a quick hug.

You’re left standing in shock as he runs away.

Mark runs to the dumpster behind the university as he quickly changes into his suit. He stuffs his clothes in his backpack and webs it to a lamppost before heading into action. His spidey sense alerted him as soon as the sirens passed, and the app informed him of a fire in an apartment complex a street up.

Once he swings onto the scene, firefighters are battling the fire and evacuating the building. Mark propels himself to the top floor to check for any civilians.

You’re concerned about Mark as he left abruptly and isn’t responding to any of your texts.

            you i hope your family emergency isn’t too serious

            just let me know you’re ok!

            we didn’t do too much in class, but i’ll send my notes

            going to the library after class to print something for a class

You’ve never been to the library at 10 PM on a Tuesday night, but there’s a first time for everything. It was shitty that your printer in your dorm had to stop working last night. The first floor of the library was unsurprisingly packed with students as the university’s coffee shop was adjoined and open until 2 AM.

You got into the elevator as the printers were located on the fourth floor. The fourth floor was empty because most people preferred to keep electronic files electronic, but of course your morning class’ professor made the class print their papers to turn in.

Printing the paper was a quick task. There was certainly no line to wait in. You tuck the sacred 5-page paper into a folder to keep pristine and leave the library. You check your phone again for any word from Mark, but nothing. You go to call him, but then the elevator jerks to a stop as the light shuts off. You press the emergency call button and wait for an operator. You try calling Mark again, but your phone can’t get cell service and your battery’s dying.

Sinking to your knees, you hang your head between your hands as the ringing becomes background noise.

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Mark rushes back to university after the fire, swiftly changing back and shoving his suit into his bag. He checks his phone to see the texts from you and calls you. When your call goes immediately to voicemail, he knows something is wrong.

The hair on the back of his neck stands up and Mark books it to the library. The first floor is filled with chatter and students looking normal so he knows that only you must be in trouble. He goes to the elevators where there’s a student waiting for one.

“Are you waiting for the elevator?”

The girl looks up from texting, “Yup, the other one isn’t working again. Ugh so annoying.”

Fuck.

The other elevator returns and Mark steps in with the girl. She presses the next floor and goes back to her phone.

A million scenarios play out in Mark’s mind. Were you claustrophobic? How long have you been stuck in the elevator? Were you alone?

The silent ride was eating him alive as every second felt like an eternity.

When the doors open and Mark basically throws himself out of the elevator as the girl walks around him, judging. Mark’s senses aren’t going off on the second or third floor, he goes up again.

The second the elevator starts moving up to the fourth floor, his senses kick in. When the doors open, Mark calls out your name. When your muffled voice responds from the neighboring elevator he sighs in relief.

“Mark, can you help me?”

“Is help on the way?”

“No.” Mark starts freaking out. “The emergency button doesn’t work, and my phone died a little while ago, but it wouldn’t even help because my service wasn’t working.”

“Why didn’t you call 911?”

“I’m not dying or in serious trouble!”

“W-what? This is an emergency! Hold on let me get someone!”

Mark runs down the hallway and quick changes into Spider-Man. He shoves his backpack behind a printer in the back corner and runs back to you.

Mark clears his throat before speaking in a lower tone, “Hi!”

“Um hi?”

“I’m going to open the elevator doors, so please stand back!”

“Okay!”

Mark places his hands in the middle of both doors as he pushes the doors open by force. After getting them open he holds out a hand to you as you look at him, well Spider-Man, in shock.

“Spider-Man?”

“Are you okay?”

You feebly nod as you allow Mark to pull you towards him.

“Are you sure you’re fine? I can take you to a clinic.”

You shake your head as Mark leads you down the stairs to the first floor while calming you down, passing confused or excited students. When both of you reach the entrance, Mark tells a skeptical security guard about the broken elevator.

Mark is about to swing away to change when you grab his hand. “Did you see my friend? He has brown hair, brown eyes, wearing a yellow hoodie?”

“I sensed there was someone in trouble and he said he was finding a janitor.”

“Thanks, I’ll go find him. And, um, thank you again.”

Mark looks into your eyes full of gratitude and sends you a wave before swinging away. He makes sure to get far enough before u-turning to the back of the library to change. 5 minutes later, he’s running around to the entrance where you are still standing in shock.

Mark pulls you into a hug as you tell him how Spider-Man saved you.

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Haechan’s party was tonight, and you had no idea what you were going to wear.

Jaehyun had surprised you at 8 in morning by waking you up, endlessly calling your phone until you told him the password to open the door. A code you were going to immediately change after he leaves.

“Jae, it’s too early for any bullshit.”

He moves his sunglasses from his face to push back his hair, looking dangerously sexy. You have to shield your eyes from his blinding attractiveness.

“I need some help getting the kegs from Jungwoo.”

“Ugh,” You draw out the word as you throw one of your extra pillows at him which he catches, “I don’t want to get up.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun says as he effortlessly picks you up from your bed. “Now you’re up.”

“Put me down, Jeong.”

“Woah, not the last name. Putting you down.”

He gently sets you on your feet from the princess carry he was holding you in.

“I don’t want to know where you’re storing all that muscle to be able to pick me up.”

He smirks, “Wanna see my 8 pack?”

“Absolutely not. Now stand outside in the lobby so I can change.”

You meet him in the lobby after quickly throwing on an oversized shirt and biker shorts. You check over your bag that you have everything you need for the day – your phone, lip balm, sunscreen, your wallet, hand sanitizer, blotting sheets, and your water bottle.

“Okay, I guess I’m ready to tackle the day with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not doing anything too crazy.”

“I have very little trust in you at 8:30 AM.”

He puts his free hand on his chest as he fakes getting hurt, “You wound me.”

You roll your eyes in response as you start walking out of your dorm building, Jaehyun following you from behind.

Jaehyun leads the way to the football field as you walk next to him. The walk isn’t too bad and soon enough you hear various guys yelling and spot footballs flying through the air.

“Hey Jungwoo!”

A shirtless, blonde guy jogs up to the you two and dabs Jaehyun up.

“Hey Captain! I thought you weren’t coming to practice until later?” Jungwoo smiles before turning to you, “Oh, and you are?”

You politely introduce yourself as Jungwoo stares into your soul. “It’s a shame I haven’t seen your pretty face around.”

His remark takes you aback as you turn in shock to Jaehyun.

“Right? Imagine my surprise when I saw her for the first time.”

You avoid eye contact, not sure how to respond. “Um… thanks. We’re here to pick up some kegs?”

“Oh right! Let me get Yangyang.”

Jungwoo calls out to another guy behind him, thankfully he is clothed because you don’t know if you could survive another attractive, shirtless guy. He runs up as he greets you.

“I have it in my car, so follow me. Jungwoo, tell coach I went to the nurse or something.”

“Okay!”

Jungwoo jogs off to get back to practice. You and Jaehyun follow Yangyang to his car so he can drop you off at the DREAM frat house. The drive is short since the fraternity and sorority houses are near campus and the sports facilities.

Outside of the DREAM fraternity house on the front lawn are a few guys running around with water guns. The three of you get out of the car, grabbing their attention. Yangyang and Jaehyun wave at them causing one of them to run inside. As the kegs are being unloaded from the trunk, who you presume Haechan is, walks out.

The pretty boy with purple hair waves at you as he takes a hit from his neon green vape. He walks over as he blows a fat cloud into the air and pockets the vape.

He nods his head at you and leans against Yangyang’s car. “Hey.”

“Hi?”

“Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Yeah?”

“Cool.” He wets his lips as he looks you up and down, “Wear something hot, ‘kay?”

“Okay?”

He gets off Yangyang’s car as he winks at you.

“Thanks for the kegs. I’ll get the guys to bring them into the garage.”

Haechan taps his phone causing the garage door to open showing you the set of workout equipment on the side and a black Porsche parked inside. 2 guys with blonde and Oreo hair come out from the door inside and start moving the kegs.

“Hey Shotaro! Hey Renjun!”

Jaehyun calls out as the frat bros wave back at him.

“So, are you ready to go?” Yangyang stands next to you as you nod. He opens the passenger door for you to get inside. Jaehyun sits smack in the middle in the uncomfortable seat so he can talk to you.

“What next?”

“Our pretty girl might need a shopping trip.”

You felt like the “ugly” but actually stunning main girl whose only transformation is taking off their glasses or hair out from a ponytail and it’s the makeover montage scene in a 2000s romcom. Jaehyun and Yangyang were running around in the local mall piling on different types of clothes into your arms to try on.

Two hours passed by already and you were getting sweaty from trying on the various combinations of tops, skirts or jeans, and dresses. It was annoyingly sweet of Jaehyun and Yangyang, who you just met today, to go out of their way to help you find something to wear.

“Honestly, I could find something in my closet or a thrift store.”

“If we don’t find something in the next 30 minutes I know a good thrift store.” Yangyang throws a black minidress at you and you let it hit your face.

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As you walk down the street where Johnny parked while fixing the biker shorts under your dress.

Johnny opens the front door of the fraternity only for you to be greeted by the sight of a hundred or so people engaging in various acts of grinding, making out, drinking, or dancing to whatever playlist DJ Yangyang picked.

“Oh my god.” You walk in as Jaehyun and Johnny tail behind you, making sure to stare down anyone who looks at you in a mean or creepy way.

You smile and wave at Yangyang in the corner of the living room as he motions at your trio to come over. The three of you move through the crowd of people partying and try not to have any kind of alcohol accidentally spilling on your new outfit.

Yangyang removes the headphones from his head to his neck and talks in your ear, “You look hot!”

“Thank you! Can we get you anything?”

“Whatever has the least amount of alc by volume.”

“Got it.”

Johnny, Jaehyun, and You find the kitchen entrance behind Yangyang’s DIY DJ booth and open the various coolers filled with alcohol. Johnny helps you pick out Yangyang’s drink from the sea of canned beverages while Jaehyun gets drinks for you all.

As you walk back to give Yangyang his drink, Haechan is talking to him and spots you getting closer to them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight to behold.”

Haechan holds a handout as you take it, spinning you around him.

“That dress fits you perfectly.”

You shyly thank him as you did feel amazing in the red and black dress you bought at a thrift store after the three of you gave up at the mall earlier, but you hid the dress from them so you could pay for it. Jaehyun couldn’t stop staring at you and Johnny couldn’t stop complimenting you when they picked you up from your dorm. You felt that you needed to donate some of your old clothes to keep the good streak going.

The people around you start yelling and both of your heads turn in the direction of the kitchen when a loud crash is heard.

“Fuck. I bet someone tipped over a keg stand. Gotta go.”

He winks at you as he walks into the kitchen. You look around the room to see that J² are nowhere to be seen.

            you hey!! where did you guys go??

            johnny  we’re upstairs hanging with mark

            johnny jeno and jaemin are coming down to get u

You stand by the end of the staircase as you scroll on your phone when someone taps the back of your shoulder. Turning around to see 2 more beautiful guys as they smile at you. The guy with black hair and an undercut introduces himself as Jeno and the guy with brown hair introduces himself as Jaemin.

J² sent 2J to get you. Funny.

They kindly escort you upstairs, down a hallway on the left, and to the room at the end. The door has a sign that says

“HAECHANNIE’S ROOM!

LADIES - FREE

GUYS - $20”

You knock on the door and walk in after Johnny says it’s open.

“Hey.” You greet Johnny, Jaehyun, and Mark who are sitting on the bed with various drinks and snacks surrounding them. Mark moves a reuseable bag full of chips so you can sit next to him as Jeno and Jaemin sit on beanbags.

“So, how’s the party going for y’all?” You ask the frat bros as you dig into a bag of your favorite chips.

Jeno and Jaemin jump into a story of how Renjun challenged Haechan and Shotaro to a keg stand contest where Shotaro won and Haechan complained the rest of the time setting up. Haechan also must carry out a dare later tonight, but Renjun is keeping it a secret.

During the story, you keep looking at Mark to see his expressions throughout the story time. You like him, you realized this after Spider-Man saved you in the elevator, the way Mark comforted you and stayed with you the entire night. Even sleeping on the pull-out bed attached to your bed that was a little too small for him. Mark was paying attention to the story, but right after 2J finished telling the story, he abruptly gets up and runs out the room.

“Is Mark okay?” You ask bewildered as the rest of the guys are nonchalant.

“Oh yeah, Mark does this a lot.” Jaemin tells you as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Really?”

Johnny nods, “Yeah ever since the start of last year Mark’s been really weird like weirder than usual.”

“And stronger for some reason.” Jaehyun adds. “We started working out together last semester. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he maxed out the bench press. I can’t do that and I’m active in sports.”

“So now we think he’s doing steroids.”

“Dude don’t say that.”

“Kidding,” Johnny says as he looks at you. “But there is something going on… like he’s keeping a secret from us.”

“Are you insinuating that Mark is Spider-Man?”

Johnny shrugs. “I didn’t say that, but I also did not not say that.”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, dude.”

“I’m literally sober. I have to drive you and Jaehyun home tonight.”

As you’re handing Johnny a bottle of water, Shotaro opens the door.

“Johnny or Jaehyun, can you please talk Haechan out of jumping from the roof into the pool.”

The two oldest guys let out a sigh as they get up to stop Haechan from doing something stupid and getting hurt.

₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸⋆｡₊✩｡🕷˚🕸｡

Your little group stands outside on the pool deck as people crowd around the pool chanting at Haechan to “jump”. Johnny and Jaehyun are sticking their head out of someone’s room scolding a tipsy Haechan who is standing near the ledge. It’s only 7 feet between the roof and the pool, but the pool is another 6 feet to dive into and the entire situation just screams “danger” to you.

Haechan is getting dangerously close to the edge causing Johnny to step out onto the roof as Jaehyun holds one of his hands.

“Haechan, we’re bringing you inside.”

“No.” He puffs a cloud of vape into Johnny’s face.

“You’re being an asshole, get in.”

Haechan’s balance is off because as he steps back a bit, his right foot misses the ledge. You can’t watch. The crowd is yelling. You look away only to see a figure jump over the fence.

Spider-Man thwips a web to put an inflatable pool floatie a foot of the ground with another floatie under it to cushion Haechan’s fall. Thankfully, Haechan falls right on the floatie and is safe from breaking a bone or something worse on the concrete.

“Are you okay?” The masked hero asks Haechan as he helps him stand up and check his body.

An eerily similar situation that mirrors exactly what Mark did when you were almost hit by a basketball.

Rushing over to Haechan, you hug him as you’re actively scolding him.

“Never do that ever again! You could have broken your legs or spine or died!”

“Excuse me.” Spider-Man clears his throat as you turn your head to him. “Are you a friend of his?”

“Yes.”

“It would be best to check that he doesn’t have any injuries and keep him inside.”

“Johnny’s probably going to bubble wrap him now.”

“I have to go now but have a good night.”

Spider-Man waves you and everyone else at the party bye as the crowd cheers for him. He then swings out of DREAM’s backyard as Johnny, Jaehyun, Jeno, and Jaemin meet you outside. They all hug Haechan and scold him as well.

“You’re cut off.”

“Seriously?” Haechan whines.

“From everything. End of discussion.”

Most of the crowd disperses inside to tell or show their friends a video of Spider-Man saving Haechan. You’re putting the pool floaties back in the pool when you almost fall in.

“Hey–woah there!”

You look wide up at Mark, who appeared out of nowhere, holding your waist to stop you from accidentally falling in the pool.

“Mark! Thanks for saving me.”

“Anytime.”

You stand back up away from the pool ledge as you smile at Mark. You notice that he’s sweating a bit.

“Could we head inside? I, um, wanted to ask you something.”

He nods his head as the two of you walk inside and then upstairs where there aren’t that many people. You hear commotion in the hallway that leads to Haechan’s room. You’re both curious, so you walk down the hallway to see Jaehyun standing guard outside his room.

“What is happening?”

“Johnny is inside making sure Haechan can’t escape out his window. Well, if he can get out of the bubble wrap duct taped to his body.”

“Figures. Mark and I are going to talk in someone’s room.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun gives you a look.

“We’re not going to fuck in someone’s bed.”

“Sure it isn’t.”

Mark blushes as you grab his hand to walk away down the other hallway. You spot Shotaro standing outside his door.

“Hey Shotaro! Can we borrow your room to talk quickly?”

“Yeah! Just lock the door after and find me at the DJ booth when you’re done. I don’t want a repeat of the first day of summer party where someone threw up in my bed.”

“Of course, and don’t worry, we won’t fuck in your bed.”

You make Shotaro speechless and Mark blushes even harder. You open the door to Shotaro’s room and get inside. His room is cutely decorated with pictures of him alongside the rest of the fraternity and tiny little trinkets sprinkled throughout. The window is open and as you look out of it you can see that his room overlooks the grassy area beside the pool.

A thought comes into your head as you look at Mark who is sitting on Shotaro’s bed across from you.

“I’ve got a lot to say so please hear me out for its entirety.” He nods his head as you stand in front of him. “Mark, I have a crush on you. I thought you were cute the first time I saw you after that basketball almost took me out. I was so excited when we ended up sharing a class together and you sat next to me the next class after we met. Then when you comforted me after Spider-Man saved me. That was the moment I knew that I liked you. I like you, Mark. Maybe even more than that.”

He stares at you awestruck.

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back. Hope we can still be friends no matter what. I just want you to know.”

“I like you too. A lot. I liked you ever since I almost accidentally hit you with a basketball. I liked you when you were excited when you found out we shared a class. I liked you when you saved a seat for me and let me borrow your water bottle. I was so happy when you were safe from being trapped in an elevator. I really like you and, if you want to, I hope we can date.”

“I would love to date you, Mark, but now I’m going to do something that might ruin our relationship before it even starts?”

Mark looks adorably confused as you walk backwards to stand in front of the window.

“You know that I also have a crush on Spider-Man. And I’ve had this hunch since he saved me in the elevator. I didn’t realize it when it was happening due to the adrenaline, but then thinking back on it – when you left while we were walking to class that one time for a “family emergency” and Spider-Man had been spotted right helping firefighter put out a nearby fire. Then, I got stuck in the library elevator and Spider-Man miraculously came to save me. Sure, it could have been a coincidence since the fire was near the university, but I wasn’t in that dire of a situation. I could’ve waited for you to find me after I texted you. Then, just right now, you leave as we’re talking with 4J then when Haechan is in danger Spider-Man shows up in the nick of time to save him? In every situation I brought up, you were there then gone, Spider-Man shows up then leaves, and then you’re back? Never in the same room to witness the masked hero. Something’s not adding up.”

“Am I Spider-Man?” Mark asks while nervously laughing. “You mean you think I’m Spider-Man?”

“I’d bet my life on it.” You tell him seriously as you sit on the window ledge.

“That’s serious.”

“I am serious.”

You continue getting farther out of the window as you possibly can.

Mark slowly stands up, “What are you doing?”

“If I’m wrong… have 9-1-1 ready.”

You then lean back as you fall out of Shotaro’s window hearing Mark yell your name, you barely have your entire body out the window when you stop moving. Opening your eyes, bunches of white strings surround your head and shoulders – Mark slowly brings you back inside Shotaro’s room.

The silence between the two of you is deafening until you open your mouth.

“I fucking knew it.”

Marks hugs you tightly. “Please… never do that again. You scared me.”

“Do you still like me?”

“D-Do I still like you? Yes, I still like you very much.”

“I scared you that bad, huh?”

“What if I wasn’t Spider-Man? Then what? You fall and die?”

“I wouldn’t have done it unless I was sure. Would a kiss make you feel better?”

“A kiss away from the window and maybe on solid ground would.”

masterlist | bonus chapter

BONUS CHAPTER NSFW MDNI 18+, instead of a sweet confession to Mark you decide to tease his masked persona, the ending in an alternate universe like the alternate universe where this story was real life – posted 9/24/2024

[chwepunk]

✷ ۪⋆. spidermark

[spideymac]

[illumins]

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞—𝑙. 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑘 (#⁰³)

✦trope: fluff, spidey-mark, spiderman

✧first pov

▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭

It’s the kind of morning where the sunlight seems to perform, glittering through the leaves of the trees lining our school’s front walk like something alive. The bus, dented and smelling faintly of rubber and stale lunches, sits idling at the curb, and I am hyper-aware of my own heartbeat, the tap-tap-tapping against my ribcage as I shuffle in line to board.

I find a seat by the window, sticking my backpack onto the empty space beside me. I tell myself it’s to save the spot for Jenna, but she’s decided to sit up front, leaving me an island in a sea of noise. The other students buzz with the sort of aimless energy only a field trip can inspire. I watch them, trying to imagine how it would feel to be as light-hearted, their thoughts not tangled in a net of impossible hopes.

Mark climbs onto the bus last, his hair a tousled mess from the wind, a grin playing on his lips as he jokes with his friends. They’re talking about the new exhibit at the science museum, something about rare minerals, but all I can see is the way his shoulders ease back in laughter, the effortless orbit of his friends around him. He’s got this gravity, and I feel caught in it, helpless.

He doesn’t notice me, not yet. He’s recounting some anecdote that has them all leaning in, their expressions lit with shared amusement. I watch his hands as he speaks, animated and sure, the way I imagine Spider-Man’s might be when he’s scaling a skyscraper or swinging between the canyons of New York’s avenues. I try to picture telling him, confessing everything right there in the vibrating hull of the school bus. But the words knot in my throat, unspoken.

We arrive under a sky scrubbed clean by the wind, the museum rising before us like a monument to all things curious and unknown. Our teachers herd us toward the entrance, their voices raised over the clamor. I stay a few steps behind Mark, watching as he squints up at the banners flapping above the entrance, his profile sharp against the pale morning light.

Inside, the museum is a cavern of shadows and echoes, the air cool and tinged with the scent of metal and glass. We wander through the exhibits, the teachers giving us time to explore while they discuss logistics at the front desk. My friends cluster around a display of meteorites, their surfaces pocked and scarred like moons. I drift away, my sneakers silent on the polished floor.

I find him by the Foucault pendulum, standing so close to the barrier that his breath must be fogging the brass plaque explaining the physics of it all. His concentration is a tangible thing, and I watch the way his eyes track the slow, hypnotic swing of the pendulum.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” I say, my voice softer than I intend, barely threading through the hum of distant conversations and the distant echo of footsteps.

He turns, his smile quick and surprised, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to break his private communion with the exhibit. “Hey,” he says. “Yeah, it really is. Did you know—”

But I’m barely listening, too caught up in the way his hair curls just behind his ears, the earnestness of his gaze. I shuffle my feet, feeling suddenly clumsy, the words I’ve rehearsed slipping away like water through fingers.

“So, I was thinking,” I start, but my voice trembles and I have to start again. “I was wondering if—”

An explosion shatters the moment, the sound so loud it seems to consume the air. Screams slice through the museum as people start running, a stampede of fear. Mark’s hand shoots out, grabbing my arm, pulling me close. His body shields mine as the sound reverberates, the ground beneath us shivering with the violence of the blast.

“Are you okay?” he shouts over the noise, his eyes scanning the chaos, always looking for how he can help. I nod, words lost in the tumult.

We move together, his hand firm on my elbow, guiding me towards what I assume is safety. My heart is a wild thing inside my chest, not just from the blast, but from him, from the heat of his hand through the fabric of my shirt.

As we reach a quieter corner, his friends gathering around us, his face is inches from mine, his brow furrowed with concern. The chaos around us blurs into a backdrop as I’m suddenly, acutely aware of his closeness, the faint smell of his cologne mixed with the metallic tang of fear.

“Seriously, are you all right?” His voice is steady, a contrast to the trembling of my own limbs.

I manage a nod, my throat tight. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks to you.” The words tumble out awkwardly, carried more by relief than by courage. The truth is, I want to say so much more, to rewind to the moment before the explosion, to the question I had been about to ask.

He smiles, a quick, reflexive thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he scans the area, still in protector mode. His gaze is everywhere, taking in exits, assessing threats, so unlike the carefree high school student he plays in the daylight of ordinary afternoons.

Mark turns back to me, his hand still gripping my arm lightly. “We should keep moving. It’s not safe here.”

As we walk, I can hear the sirens in the distance, the sound growing steadily louder. The museum staff are directing visitors toward emergency exits, their voices calm but urgent over handheld radios.

We reach a side exit, the cool air outside a slap after the stifling fear inside. Police cars and fire trucks are converging on the scene, their lights painting the world in harsh strokes of red and blue. Mark's friends cluster together, everyone speaking at once, trying to make sense of the chaos.

I stand slightly apart, the weight of my unasked question heavier than ever. Just as I gather the remnants of my scattered courage, ready to reach out and touch his arm, to pull him aside and finally speak my truth, he looks over, his expression shifting as he sees something beyond my shoulder.

“Stay here,” he says abruptly, and then he’s gone, melting into the crowd with a swiftness that speaks of more than just urgency—it speaks of necessity, of duty.

The others don’t notice his departure, not at first, caught up in their own relief and recounting of the event. I watch where he disappeared, the cold knot of disappointment settling in my stomach. Not because of the missed chance to confess, but because I know, with a sinking certainty, where he’s gone.

To change, to swing into action as someone else entirely. As Spider-Man.

I wrap my arms around myself, watching as the first responders begin to corral us further away from the building. The sound of distant thuds and muffled shouts suggests that the danger isn’t over, that whatever caused the explosion might still be unfolding inside.

And there, under the relentless sweep of emergency lights, I realize the truth isn’t just in the words I’d failed to say. It’s in this moment, in the pulse of fear and the clarity it brings. It’s in the understanding that my confession wouldn’t just be about a crush; it would be an acknowledgment of his double life, a step into his world of constant peril and masked identities.

As I watch, poised on the edge of something vast and terrifying, a new resolve forms. When this is over, when he comes back, I’ll be waiting. Not just to confess, but to stand by him. Maybe then, he’ll see me not just as a classmate, but as someone who knows the weight of his secrets and chooses to stay.

But for now, I wait, the sirens wailing a lament, the flashing lights casting shadows where I stand—alone but undeterred, ready for whatever comes next.

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙����𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️chapter index: chap 1 chap 2 chap 3 🕸️ this chapter contains smut! 🕸️ pet name usage: baby, babe, love, the usual ^_^

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 3: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 - 9.6k

Yesterday was difficult.

It was now Saturday, and you were pondering on the time you had with Mark the day before. It wasn’t anything special. Actually, the day itself wasn’t difficult at all. 

When you brought up Xiaojun at the start of the week, or better yet, the idea of dating, you weren’t expecting him to be so…reactive. Well, obviously you couldn’t be 100% sure that was the reason, but you weren’t stupid. It was the only new factor that could have caused this change in behavior. Mark stumbled on his words more often, his eyes a little wider and little more downturned in fear and worry, the alleged secret admirer that just appeared, and his writings in the webs. Mark had always been strange, but never in a way so unexplainable.

It seemed all you could think about the whole week is what any part of this could mean. Did it make him uncomfortable to learn this new information about you? Had he forgotten how to act around you? Or, is it what you hoped for? Was he affected?

It made you feel insane that you were thinking about it so heavily, like a schoolgirl with some kind of toxic limerence, trying to dissect the pieces in her favor. 

It didn’t help that yesterday had been so nurturing. Mark rarely has a drained social battery; that’s just not a common thing in his nature. He’d just rather spend alone time with you, and you were unfortunately aware of that. Unfortunately, because it made you that much more hyper aware of every small detail. That much more aware of every unconditional smile, every tug on your sleeve when he wanted you to follow, every laugh that echoed in your skull. And not to exclude his penetrating eyes as you tried to sleep on the train, but how could you when he was so close, his eyes never straying from anywhere but you. It was impossible not to burn under them.

Worst of all, that look. That god forsaken look that had you sliding down the wall of your apartment entrance the moment you entered your home. You had seen it before, it never got easier. There wasn’t a time you could recall where it didn’t make your hands sweaty and your heart thump aggressively in your chest. It just couldn’t have come at a worst time.

It was just unfair, honestly. For Mark to look at you like you created the sun and the stars given the events of the past week. It made you wonder if he would still look at you like that if he knew.

It wasn’t a crime to be in love, you knew that. Though it definitely felt like a crime to be in love with your best friend for years without end, never once saying a word. You had told yourself all this time that you didn’t want to burden him with the weight of what you felt on top of the burden of being a hero, and that had allowed all these years to pass. You had to ask yourself a lot more frequently now if that was really the case or only part of it. If Mark knew you loved him, he would know every action, every word that came from your being the past few years was laced with something else other than friendship. There was always the chance it would ruin those memories. That he would never look at you in the way you adored ever again.

Trying to figure out Mark Lee was exhausting. On top of that, figuring out yourself and dealing with self-doubt that you had never been one to struggle with, it had worn you.

After your face burned 5 shades less red, you pulled yourself up from the floor, dragging yourself to your bed and flopping down, sleep coming easy aside from the recurring images of Mark that were always just there. Distantly, you wished you never started this effort of trying to press his buttons. Things would have stayed the same, but they wouldn’t have been so frightening.

You drifted quickly to sleep, and when you woke up you found yourself still in that pool of bad emotions. Yunjin was out for the weekend, and the apartment felt unsettling being so quiet. If this was a normal circumstance, you’d probably find comfort in your best friend. However, you figured that would probably make you feel worse.

So, you sat on your fire escape, dangling your feet into the night. It felt less alone than being in your room for some reason, and it was a good place to pop in headphones and listen to whatever music decided to shuffle on. It was the best effort you could think of to try and stray away from a fact you knew was becoming irrefutable. All this love was too large to be contained anymore.

You were lightly jostled out your melancholic state when your phone started to buzz, and you pulled it out of your pocket of your hoodie the screen shined with the caller id “Mark ᓚ₍⑅^..^₎♡” under a picture of the both of you during your 7th grade spring formal. You sighed as your thumb went to slide to answer. Mark really was inescapable, but you couldn’t seem to get enough. “Hi, Mark.”

“I’ve been texting you! I already started my patrol, but as soon as I went out, I went to chase after a bike thief! He was pretty slippery to catch, but I got him! I don’t know whose bike this is though…” Mark rambled through the phone, a small smile on your face despite everything. “I’ll have to leave a note…Anyway, join me, yeah?”

You sighed, a few hours of going back and forth with Mark is probably the last thing you needed. However, you already admitted you can’t get enough. “Yeah, I’ll join you. Give me a second.”

Shuffling could be heard on Mark’s end, signifying he was up to some sort of shenanigans, as he quickly responded. “Alright! I’ll be waiting!”

You hung up the phone, looking out at the city one more time, before heading into your room. You sat at your desk chairs, letting your monitors light up as your computer powered on, and before you knew, you could hear the familiar ‘beep beep’ indicating that you had connected to the communications system. Your first sight was Mark standing in a pizza shop.

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, finding it ridiculous that he had already gotten distracted “Got hungry?”

Mark perked up as he heard your voice. “Ah! You’re here! Yeah, I thought I’d swing by. Just waiting on mine now! The guy tried to give it to me for free again, but I slipped a 20 in his jar. You want some?”

You were adjusting the volume and screen on your monitor, going to answer him. “No, I’m okay-”

A gasp could be heard as you felt a cold and rough hand come up to your mouth. You could hear Mark asking what was wrong as your chair turned around, and suddenly you were surrounded by 3 men you had never seen, one of them clearly holding some kind of weapon. 

Your eyes went wide as you watched one of them hold a finger up to his mouth, and before your body or mind could react, there was a bag over your head. 

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

Mark was feeling a lot better.

He had a nice day with his crush of years the day prior, and although he had lost a few battles this week, the war wasn’t over. He realized that now.

For the first time since the week started, he didn’t feel anxious or like his world was coming to an end. He was…calm. As calm as he could be as he started his patrol, unable to get a hold of you. He figured you were busy and would get back to him momentarily, and as he saw someone yelling after a man wearing all black with a stolen bike, he decided to get right to it.

That chase ended up taking him longer than he expected. He definitely had an experienced bike thief on his hands. After leaving a note on a bike whose owner was nowhere to be found at that point, his stomach growled a bit, so he swung himself to his favorite pizza parlor. Mark frequented there even in his full Spider-suit ever since he forgot he was wearing it once and waltzed right in. Now every time he goes, he has to bicker with the owner who never wants to let Mark pay. 

As he waited for his pizza, you finally answered. It didn’t take him long to notice that you sounded sadder than usual. While you switched from the phone call to the comms system, he figured that he should get to the bottom of whatever was causing you to be gloomy. 

And then, you stopped talking. 

One second you were talking to Mark, declining his offer of pizza, and after a short gasp, he couldn’t hear anything. 

He tried to call out to you and gave it a minute or two. Maybe you stepped away and would be back soon. That had to be it. However, after Mark started calling out again with no answer, a terrible yet familiar feeling set in the pit of his stomach. The one he got before most of his major fights that signified impending doom. This was worse, though, way worse. Mark had never gotten it with you.

His feet were moving before he could process it, running out of the pizza restaurant and jumping into the night. You were far, your apartment being a good 3 miles away. Mark figured if he hurried, he could reach it in 5 minutes. So, that’s what he did. He was still using that burdensome unassisted aim, and he was going at a speed that surely one mistake could cause him to get hurt. Mark didn’t care. He wasn’t even thinking about that. All he knew is that he needed to reach you as soon as possible.

Mark saw your apartment in the distance, his body going overdrive as he ran on the ledge of a building, throwing himself into his final few swings. As he approached, the pit in his stomach only made him more nauseous when his eyes landed on your window wide open. 

“Maybe she just wanted some air and left it open, maybe she just wanted some air,” Mark muttered to himself in a breathless state, as he landed on the wall, jumping onto your fire escape. He wasted no time in climbing in, the apartment deadly silent. 

“Y/n?” Mark called loudly, making his way room to room, finding that no one was there. He turned back to your room, his blood running a little colder. “Just call her…Just call her…” Mark murmured, pulling his phone out to dial you. 

Mark’s head turned when he heard your phone buzzing on the desk, walking up to pick it up. The sight confirmed to him that something was wrong. “Shit.” He whispered to himself, holding the phone tight in his hands.

Mark’s head flew up as a signal struggled to connect to your monitor, and suddenly he was met with a face he had never seen before. A man with a scar above his eye.

“Spiderman…I see you’ve made it.”

Mark leaned on the desk, staring at the monitor trying to get a better look at the man. “Who the hell are you?”

The man chuckled, his eyes dark as he stared at Mark. “Not important. All you need to know is that I have your little girlfriend.”

Mark’s heart couldn’t have sunk further, his body ran cold as his fists clenched. This douchebag was talking about you. He shuddered before he shot up, as if ready to bolt out. “Wh…Where is she?”

“She’s fine, don’t worry. All I need from you is the drive that gets me into junk drawer. I know you have one.”

The eyes on Mark’s mask narrowed. “Junk drawer? What do you need with that?”

The man seemed irritated, exhaling hard as he retorted. “Doesn’t matter to you. Just bring it to me and I’ll give you the girl. I won’t give you long.”

Mark would’ve flung out the window there and then, but then it hit him. “Where do I find you? Where are you?” He demanded with frustration.

“You’re a smart kid. I’m sure you can figure it out. We’ll be here…”

The man turned the camera and briefly, it flashed to you, sat in a chair before the connection cut, and Mark was left alone. 

“Damnit!” He yelled as he sat down, already working to trace the origin of the call. Mark was working on autopilot, his heart racing as the seriousness of the situation set in.

How could this happen? Mark was just talking to you mere minutes ago. You were right, he hadn't been careful enough with you. Someone had connected you to him, and now you were gone. With a lunatic who wanted the entrance to junk drawer, at that. He worked diligently until he reached coordinates, and he was already flung out the window.

So many thoughts ran in his fear-stricken mind. Does he call for help? How much time did he have? Were you really alright? What does that idiot want with junk drawer? 

He only knew one answer, he needed to make sure you were safe above all else.

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

The warehouse you were in was empty. Well, mostly empty. There were parts and scrap metals on the floor with tables scattered around, all of which with some weird unconventional weapon on top of them. There was only one table that didn’t have an odd invention on it, it held a plethora of monitors, and a chair for the man that you assumed was behind all of this.

You quickly realized this man was deranged in the most idiotic way. Your head was in a bag, a piece of tape over your mouth as you were rushed to the warehouse like some kind of movie kidnapping. You weren't moved in a car or by foot, someone had carried you with what sounded like some type of jet technology that sounded all sorts of unsafe. That way, you made it fast to the damp warehouse on the outer side of town.

The guy, who was addressed as Scar by his men on the radio, was quick to brag to you about his maniacal plan. He told you that he once worked for Tony Stark, and Tony got “petty” and fired him. He showed off his various “inventions” that he found pride in creating all on his lonesome. You sat there with your hands tied behind your back, not saying much in order to tread lightly around someone who was clearly not thinking straight.

 As you heard him interact with Mark and his own lackeys, looking around at weapons that the more you looked at them didn’t look up to any legal standards, you started to figure him out.

“You’re making a mistake.” You said quietly to scar, who turned to look at you with a smirk. “They’re already at junk drawer, aren’t they?”

He scoffed, a cocky smile on his face. “You're smarter than your boyfriend.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath at the word boyfriend, but feeling it wasn’t an appropriate time to correct him. “Your machinery doesn’t look safe, junk drawer is protected for a reason. There’s tech in there that could be dangerous if used wrong. And…if Stark Industries fired you, it must have been for a reason. A man like Tony doesn’t do things out of pettiness.”

Scar’s expression grew a little more serious before he huffed and turned around to look away from you. “What are you, a fan of the avengers or some shit?” 

You pursed your lips, fan was an understatement. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter. Some of these weapons don’t look up to regulation. If these were sold…it…it’s just a mistake.”

Scar was visibly more irritated now. “Shut up before I put the tape on your mouth again. I know what I’m doing.”

You highly doubted he did, the whole stunt a clear act of vendetta. You just hoped Mark would realize that soon as well. Afterall, a villain with no plan is more unpredictable than one who does have one.

Your foot tapped anxiously as you kept trying to budge at the ropes on your hands. It was just a waiting game for Mark to show up, all while his men were already making plans to enter junk drawer when it was left vulnerable. The wait didn’t last long, as it turned out Mark found the coordinates faster than you expected when you both heard a thud land on the roof. 

Scar stood up, standing behind your chair as he turned you to face the entrance, and the situation was only becoming more and more tense. “He’s too early.” 

Seconds later, Mark was stumbling in, and Scar was prepared with an outstretched hand, hooked onto some kind of makeshift ray, a copy of some of Stark Industries tech, as a message to stay back.

There was a silence as Mark assessed the situation, and you could tell he was acting frantically. In the silence, your mouth was open before you could think it through. “You have to go to junk drawer, there's already people over there! He’s bluffing!” You blurted out, Scar yelling ‘Shut up!’ as soon as you said it. 

Mark stood with a firm stance, his face unreadable under the mask, slowly he started to inch forward. “I have the drive.” Mark announced, seemingly completely ignoring what you had said. “You have to let her go.”

Scar only smiled, pulling the chair back with you in it. His hand snaked around your neck. You gulped as you stared at Mark with a growing expression of worry. More for the heist that was about to take place and less for yourself. “Good. Keep walking, slow and steady, until I tell you to stop.”

Mark was beside himself, this whole thing had felt like a fever dream to him up until then. Up until he saw this random guy with his hand around your neck. Touching you. “Okay! Okay! Just…don’t do anything.” Mark blurted through his teeth., trying to seem assertive but ultimately sounding what he was, horrified. 

Mark kept inching closer as Scar moved his hand away from your neck to the back of your chair. “Just keep walking, slowly.” Scar ordered.

So, he did. He inched closer and closer, and you couldn’t believe he was entertaining this. “…just drop it and go.” You pleaded, your voice desperate and worried as he kept coming closer. Mark ignored you again, it was clear he was disregarding what you were saying despite the severity of the situation.

You could feel Scar’s satisfied smile with each second that passed. It was never about you at all, it was always about wasting time. Yet, Mark couldn’t seem to understand that. “Keep walking, a little further.” Mark obeyed, walking closer and closer, the drive clenched in his hands.  

Suddenly, scar spoke out. “Stop. You’re close enough.” Scar demanded when Mark was only a few feet away. “Put the drive on the floor, and back away.”

Mark did just that, scrambling back faster than he came. The air was thick as Scar stepped out from behind you, walking to pick up the drive and returning back to the chair. 

Mark watched in a nervous silence as the ropes on your chair were undone. Yet once you were free, his hands were on your shoulders, not letting you move. You looked back to Scar, a lump in your throat, and to Mark with a heavy look.

“I did it,” Mark said shakily, getting frustrated, “so let her go.” 

Scar was silent, listening to the feedback on the radio behind him, as if deciding what to do. He kept a tight hold on you, as he pulled the chair back with you in it, the legs scraping making an unbearable sound. Not as unbearable as getting pulled farther and farther away from Mark, though, wanting this whole thing to be over already.

As you and Scar reached closer to his communication systems, you could hear the discourse. The men on the other side are still going back and forth with each other, one of them asking ‘how much time?’ and something in your stomach told you this wouldn’t be the end of it. You could hear him behind you, doing something, reaching for something, but your eyes wouldn’t leave Mark. 

Finally Scar let go of your shoulders, the freedom catching you off guard. “Stand up, go to him slowly.

You did just that, the adrenaline barely keeping you up on your own two feet as you put one foot in front of the other. You didn’t know what slow meant, what was acceptable or unacceptable, but you did know that if you didn’t get to Mark soon, you wouldn’t reach him at all. In a moment, your heart skipped a beat, a chill down your spine as you decided to break into a full sprint.

Your efforts were in vain, and as you had expected, that God awful jet sound came on, and a gangly cold arm snaked around you, shooting you in the air.

You could barely process your own scream as you clung onto it for life, debris falling over your face as you were shot out of the warehouse ceiling. When you found it in you to open your eyes and look at Scar, he wore a stressed look.

“Let’s go for a little walk.”

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

Ever since Mark knew you, you always seemed to talk with your face. Therefore, it was heart wrenching when he saw you communicating something he had never seen on the face he adored, genuine dread and fear.

That is what he was met with as he walked into the warehouse, trying to comply with this asshole’s demands so he could get you out of here, preferably kick his ass, and make sure nothing like this ever happened again due to his carelessness. Yet, there you were, telling him to leave. To go protect junk drawer, as if that was more important than you.

As he placed the drive down on the floor, He could care less what the implications were if junk drawer was getting broken into at that very moment. All Mark knew is that it was making his blood boil to see the man touching you, making you sweat in anxiety under his calloused hands. He knew he had to put an end to it soon. 

Mark only briefly thought about the plan being used to waste his time. Under any other circumstance, he would be strategizing to get you out of harm's way and interject in the villainy taking place. The latter seemed to matter nothing to him, not when everything was at stake.

Mark’s breathing trembled a little in relief when he finally saw you inching towards him, still with those words on your face that said something was wrong. He pieced together what it was when you tried to sprint, and just like that, you were in the air. Without a single thought, he was swinging after you. 

Mark used every ounce of stamina and strength he had to chase after you. Those jets were strong and bulky, emitting some sort of beam of heat that he just knew he couldn’t get close to. His heartbeat only picked up, his pants heavy as he tried to think of how he could get close enough. The man was flying with you higher than the skyline, and if Mark wanted to reach you, he’d have to swing himself from with lots of momentum. 

Until, the jets started sputtering, a nasty smoke emitting from it as the man seemingly started to lose control. Perhaps it would’ve been a good thing, but he was carrying you. Mark didn’t care if he got burned, he started moving in closer. As he did, the man made a b-line higher and farther for a building under construction. 

Mark enhanced his sight, zooming in to watch as the man went in hot, the jetpack on its final stretch. 

Time was moving slow for Mark as he watched the jet contraption fail, sending you and the man landing on the construction site, followed by an explosion that rattled the structure as Scar’s invention gave in on itself. Mark wasn’t even looking as the guy tried to get away, fidgeting with some other gadgets he had on him, he could only see you terrified and knelt down on the flimsy wood panels of the structure, frantically looking around. He was so relieved, yet so shaken to see you were alright, knowing that it was seconds away from going wrong.

Mark’s been in life-or-death situations, fought villains and monsters of the ordinary person’s nightmares. He had never been as scared as he was in that moment, since he realized you were gone. Never had he felt chills run up the back of his spine so prickly and cold. Suddenly, it made sense what it was that had caused him to be a coward the whole week. Why he couldn't utter a three-letter phrase that came so easy to live but so hard to admit to you, especially when it could change everything.

He was scared to lose you.

3. 

Mark landed as softly as he could in front of you as to not jeopardize the likely unstable floors, kneeling in front of you as he grabbed your face that ran pale in fear. “Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!” He questioned breathlessly, his eyes roaming over every inch of you.

You nodded, your hands shaking as you went out to grab his wrists. “I... I’m fine, I told you he’s not trying to hurt me. He’s just buying time.”

Mark couldn’t buy that you were alright, not until he was one-hundred percent certain. “What’d he do to you? Was he in your house?”

You sighed shakily, your head shaking, “Mark, I said I’m fine. You need to get to junk drawer.”

Mark shook his head, looking around for any signs of Scar. “I don’t care, I’m not leaving you.” Mark asserted, his hands holding onto yours tight. “I’ve gotta get you away from here-”

“Mark, please listen. This guy’s crazy, if his weapons get on the market who knows-”

“Y/n please,” Mark cut you off, his head turning back to look at you. “No way in hell am I going anywhere when he’s out for you.”

“He’s not after me, please just listen-”

“You listen to me!” Mark said in frustration, his anger and horror and stress from the past hour bubbling up as he snapped at you, “I don’t care what they’re doing.”

“I only care about the girl that I’m in love with, and I’m not leaving you!"

Mark stared at you, a blank expression under his mask. He wasn’t able to stare for long, nor was he able to feel the effects of what had just blurted out of his mouth before his head whipped around, and aimed right at him was another weapon that looked like it couldn’t possibly be regulated. His body was moving before he could process it, and now he was just pissed off. 

Total peace wasn’t an option for Spiderman, but it was for Mark. Mark had found that in you, and for someone to take the one thing, the one person he had all to himself to comfort him, it made him ooze with rage. He dodged poorly taken shots, jumping and flipping from place to place as he avoided every hit, coming in with only one motive to make sure this guy couldn’t get near you again.

Mark’s mind and body moved on its own the closer he got, desperate to put an end to everything. When he came to his senses, it seemed he had won. A particularly effective web had Scar tied around a pole, unable to move. 

Mark stood in front of him, his chest going up and down as the haze in his mind allowed him to only think apprehend, apprehend, apprehend dimming down as the worst of it seemed to be over.

Scar’s condition seemed to be far worse, struggling against the webs, yelling out in a fit of rage as his vengeful eyes sat on Mark. 

“It’s over, just stop fighting, man.” Mark hissed, his fists clenched on his sides. 

Scar moved one of his hands that was hidden behind his back to the front. When Mark looked down, he noticed a little remote in them.

“I hope you don’t make it.”

Mark didn’t have time to be confused before a boom vertebrated behind him. His body twisted, running in a full sprint towards you and your falling figure.

It was quite ironic when you really thought about it. When he was first bitten by that spider, he often cursed the responsibility that came with his great powers, one’s he never explicitly asked to have. He spent a lot of his rookie years wondering why him. Why Mark Lee? As if he wasn’t odd enough, never fitting into most places. Now he just had to be the weird and awkward one and Spiderman. Some nights, he even wished he would wake up and he’d be normal again, never having to worry about his “duties” ever again. 

Now, here he was. Soaring into the night to reach your outstretched hand, your fingertips moments away, praying to this once unwanted power of his to work in his favor for once and save you. Someone who gave him something that he never has and never will beg to go away in his life. Someone who gave him love.

Once his hand clasped yours, he pulled you into his chest, grunting as he shot a web just in time, to deflect the fall. The both of you were already too close to the ground, and the best landing he could stick was flipping through the air, breaking the fall with his own body as he slid to a stop in an empty lot. 

It was quiet for a long time as Mark gazed up into the sky, holding you tight in his arms. Only when he heard the sound of sirens and an sound inside his hud that Mr. Stark was on his way and alert of the situation did Mark’s eyes flicker back to life. Looking up to see the destruction of the construction site and holding you tighter, Mark let his head fall back, breathing a sigh of relief that it was over. You were safe.

His body ached, and his arms hesitantly untangled themselves and outstretched on the cold floor. Mark’s injuries were the last of his worries, his only concern was your wellbeing. He didn’t know if you had sustained any injuries from that whole thing, the only indication that you weren’t knocked out cold was your hands gripped firmly on his shoulders still, and the slight shake in your body.

“Y/n,” Mark said softly, “Come on. We’ve gotta get you to a hospital.”

When Mark tried to stand the both of you up, he was met with resistance, your body doing its best to push him to stay down. Mark hated not seeing your face, not knowing what you were feeling, so all he could think of doing was wrapping his arms around you again. Fearful? Shaken? Angry? Maybe it was a mix of all of those? God, he wanted to know so he could make it better so bad-

Oh. You lifted your head to look at Mark. You looked like you felt all of those, but one he wouldn’t have expected was the most prominent. 

Longing.

“Are you really in love with me?”

Mark’s heart sank for what must have been the millionth time that day, and he thought that couldn’t possibly be a healthy amount. He hardly remembered any of what he said during that whole ordeal, but as he was reminded of that one, it definitely sounded like him.

 He was cornered, completely and utterly cornered. Not only could he not run with you on top of him, but he also probably couldn’t run after that fall anyway. What he really couldn’t escape though, were those damn eyes that were big and curious and desperate for an answer. 

So, he just started talking. 

“Are you really asking me?”

If that wasn’t an answer enough by the way that his lip quivered as he stared at you, Mark’s hand moved to brush hair out of your face, looking at you like nothing else existed in that moment before he continued. “You know…I’ve nearly died a lot more than your average person.”

Mark laughed under his breath, talking quietly as he was still trying to recover from getting the wind knocked out of him. “Everytime it happens, I experience that life flashing before your eyes thing. It isn’t…what it seems. People make it sound like it's a slideshow of your best memories that just plays out. It’s not. It’s like…a dvd player, and you get to pick your favorite movie.”

“Everytime, I chose to see you.”

Mark smiled weakly, his eyes beaming with something he had never quite let you fully see before. “Maybe because you’re comforting, or because it feels like you’re all I’ve ever known, or maybe because I love you, but it’s always you. Sometimes, I look forward to that. Almost dying. Cause’ it means even if just for a second, you’re all I see. Though, it’s like that even when I'm fully conscious as well.”

Mark sighed, throwing his head back as he grabbed his face in disappointment. “Sorry, not making much sense, I think I hit my head too hard.” He admitted with a small giggle. “I thought…I’d made that much obvious. But I’ll say it again for the record, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I really, really, really love you.”

The eyes on his mask blinked in disbelief like he couldn’t believe he finally uttered the words. “You don’t have to say anything, and whatever you decide to do with that, I’ll accept it wholeheartedly. But honestly…I’m just glad you know.”

Mark couldn’t stop looking at you, a glossy film over your eyes. He always imagined what you would look at him like when he told you. In his wildest fantasies, you wore the widest smile on your face or made a completely disgusted look. He couldn’t have predicted this one, but…in a good way.

After a short stillness, your hands moved to pull the mask off his face, throwing it to the side as your hands shakily came to his cheeks. For what felt like ages, you couldn’t take your eyes off every part of his face, reading him like a map. Your thumbs were tracing over his cheeks, his jaw, the outer corner of his eyes, and Mark only stared at you wordlessly, your reaction becoming less and less predictable.

Mark definitely couldn’t predict your lips on his. Nor could he predict how soft and pillowy they were.

When you pulled away, a small prickle fell from the corner of your eye, and his hand was quick to reach up to wipe it away. As if any tear on your face was sacrilegious. They were happy tears, though, that was evident with your smile as you beamed at him, “You’re an idiot.”

Idiot was the last thing your tone of voice was saying to him, and soon he was smiling too, his hands running around your neck. “I guess I am.”

Mark can’t be blamed for leaning in for yet another kiss. Not when he was finally granted permission to do what he’s always wanted to. 

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

1 month later

Having Spiderman as a boyfriend had its perks for sure, but sometimes there were things that you just had to deal with.

For example, it meant you would never be late to work or class ever again. If you had woken up late, you had your own public transportation system to throw you from place to place. The same thing could be said if you ever needed something from the grocery store or wanted some takeout, as Spiderman proved to be faster than any delivery service. Of course, there was the pride you felt at all the good deeds your boyfriend and longtime best friend had done. A compliment to him felt like a compliment for you. He had also gotten you a signed card from almost every avenger you could name. Although he had done that one for you long before he became your boyfriend, it’s just nice to list it off.

One of the downsides you could name though was definitely when he would knock at your window covered in cuts, bruises, scrapes, sometimes having broken bones, and a hurt ego. However, he had done that long before he was your boyfriend as well.

Tonight, as you laid down enjoying some rest and a movie after a long day, you knew that would be the case when there was a knock at your window, and a quick turn of your head showed you Spiderman pawing at the glass. “Babe? Let me in, yeah?”

You scurried up, knowing by the sound of his wince that something had happened as you quickly popped open the window. As you took a step back, a tattered Mark Lee entered the room, pulling off his mask and revealing a cut that had even made it up to his lip. However, he didn’t seem to be in excruciating pain as he smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. “Hi, Y/n. I may have had a little accident.”

You sighed, a small smile on your face as your hands came up to rub his back, finding that he winced a little as you went to touch it. “Mm..I see. What happened now?”

Mark only nuzzled further starting his rant. “Well, long story short, I went to go find Mr. Stark and he was in the midst of hashing it out with this weird like…metal man. I was like, ‘Mr. Stark, need some help!?’ and he was like, ‘Just go home kid!’ but I didn’t really listen and kept trailing behind him. So, ended up getting dragged into it.”

You pushed him away and only held onto his arms as you looked up at him. “Are you serious?” You asked with concern, looking down to see he did have quite a few cuts.

Mark nodded with a smug smile, leaning in to plant a long kiss on your forehead. “Mm…yeah. Love you.” He mumbled, sounding way too normal about the whole thing.

A month wasn’t long enough for you to be used to Mark’s level of affection, but really you wondered if any amount of passing time would ever make your heart pound less in your chest. “Yeah, I love you too. But…we gotta clean these up. Go wait by the sink, yeah? I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Mark placed another kiss near your eye, causing you to flutter it shut. “Yes, Ma’am.” He replied, trodding his way to your bathroom as you scrumaged around your room to find the first aid kit you learned to keep on hand at all times.

Once you found it, you made your way into the bathroom. Mark was leaning against the counter, his suit loosened up as he inched his way out of the torso area. Placing down the first aid kit, you went to help him out, and he thanked you as his arms were finally free.

He looked down at himself, and so did you, he really was littered with small gashes sporadically throughout. Not to mention, it was criminal that he looked so good in such a state. “Mark…” you said softly, opening the first aid kit and getting straight to work. “You really have to listen to Tony when he tells you to do things.”

Mark winced as you wiped the first one with alcohol, his eyes fluttering shut. “Not my fault that weirdo started swinging at me!”

You smiled to yourself, his antics always being amusing to you. “Can’t believe you’re the Spiderman and you can’t take a little alcohol.”

Mark chuckled as he leaned one of his arms on the sink counter, the other resting at your hip. “Alcohol stings! You don’t have to clean them, you know. They’ll be gone in a few hours.”

You stopped dabbing, having barely placed your first bandaid down, a smile on your face. “Yet you always come so I can treat you.”

He smiled, pretending to pout as he pushed around strands of hair on your face. “Maybe I just wanna see you. Ever thought of that?”

Your cheeks went warm as you tried to continue what you were doing. “I figured that out a while ago.”

Mark just watched you, something he could do shamelessly now that he was dating you, and he knew that at least you knew a fraction of how much he loved you. He wasn’t sure you knew entirely, though. “Can I kiss you, please?” He asked in a pleading tone, his big eyes boring into you as both his hands moved to your hips. “You really don’t have to clean those. And, it’ll make me feel better.”

You sighed, putting down your cotton balls and bandages and meeting his gaze. “You’re so needy, you know that? What about the cut on your lip?”

Mark pulled you closer, wanting you pressed flush against him. “This thing?” He inquired by pointing at it, pressing his lips together to prove a point. “Barely even hurts.”

You giggled, and Mark felt his heart flutter knowing he caused it. He always did. “I guess I’ll allow it then.” You teased.

Mark tilted his head, leaning in closer to you as you stared at his lips. “I was gonna do it anyway.”

You swear you will never get sick of this feeling, the way that he handled you so carefully, his every move filled with adoration. Your first few kisses at the start of the relationship were slow and steady, testing out the water seeing how far they could go. Neither of you really had any experience before then, either being too awkward to have a first kiss or refusing to have it with anyone but each other and never knowing that fact.

However, ever since you started, it seemed you couldn’t stop. Small and sweet kisses, ones where you could feel his smile on your lips or whisper a quick ‘I love you’ turned into deeper and more passionate ones that…well…tended to end the same.

The point being, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Not after waiting all that time. So it went without saying that lately every kiss ended in Mark wanting to devour you. It was no different for this one.

It started off tame until it wasn’t, now Mark was passing his tongue across your lips, trying desperately to get inside, and squeezing your hips while he rubbed circles into you. Your hands rested on his shoulders, but honestly if he wasn’t so cut up they’d probably be running all over his torso.

Getting so heated while he was still in his spider suit was definitely new though, not that you were complaining when again, he looked way too good for someone who was supposed to be injured.

This kiss deepened, and you seemed to only want to press further into him. Mark’s hands got more explorative, and you found yourself opening your mouth even more, trying to taste every bit of him. It kept going until your hands at his neck started moving with a mind of their own, one of them reaching up to his nape and pulling on some of his hair.

For some reason, the small act drove Mark insane, and he detached his mouth from yours as a rather pathetic moan left his lips, and he looked at you with passionate eyes, his face burning red as he reached up one of his hands to bury it in. “Sorry, sorry.”

You were panting a little, trying to find your breath again after that as you stared at him with a soft smile. “It's okay.” You said softly to him.

You were hoping to continue, until you noticed something pressed firm against you, and you realized why Mark’s ears had gone so red. As you looked down, confirming a bulge pressed right into you, you swear you could hear Mark turn ten shades darker. You just smiled, brushing hair out of his face so you could see him better. “That excited already?”

Mark’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and looked at you. When you talked to him like that in the way he loved, especially during moments like this, it just wasn’t good for his sanity. “How can I not be? You’re too good at this.”

You laughed a little both of your hands on his face as you stared at him with parted lips. ”You want me to help?”

Mark’s face was shades of pink and red all over before he answered you, his voice a little shaky. “Help how?”

His heart almost slammed out of his chest as you knelt down, and it took everything in him to not start whining. “Love,” Mark muttered, his hands going down to your face, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” You answered back, tilting your head a bit as you looked up at him, your eyes shining with a desire in them. “You don’t want me to?”

Mark didn’t know whether to nod or shake his head, so instead he just waved his hands. “No! Yeah! I mean, I want to. I just…I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

You smiled at him with your hands on his thighs and it felt like they were burning prints into him. “I wanna do this, Mark, so don’t worry.”

Before he could process it, his hands were gripping onto dear life on the counter behind him, and you were tugging at his suit, pulling it down to find his boxers. Mark could hardly contain himself as your hands played with the waistband. “I can take these off?”

All he could do was nod, watching as you pulled them off of him, excruciatingly slow, and feeling the heat creep up heavy on his neck once they were.

The both of you had gotten awfully used to each other in the past month. You really couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. This hadn’t happened, however, and he felt so vulnerable as you just stared at him, already leaking at the tip as you wrapped your hands around.

“I’ll try my best.” You said, and Mark shouldn’t have looked down, because he was met with the sight of your eyes directed straight at him as you took the tip of his dick in your mouth.

A shiver ran down his spine as you played with it, moving your tongue and your hand to see what made him react positively, but Mark was so obsessed with you and everything that you did that there wasn’t a single part he didn’t find enjoyable.

He tried to bring himself to watch, but everytime his head would start reeling. He resorted to keeping his gaze on the ceiling most of the time, his hands gripping onto the counter behind him. “Fuck…” Is all that Mark managed to whisper in a shaky voice, trying not to make much noise.

You wanted him to make noise. It’s a habit of his that drives you the craziest. When he enjoys it so much he can’t help but resort to whining, pleading, begging. As you looked up at him, you were determined to hear that from him. Slowly, you took more of him in your mouth.

Mark shot to look down the deeper you went He was half concerned, knowing you had never done this before and not wanting you to hurt yourself, but the sight of you adjusting yourself to take more of him went straight to his core. “Y/n…love…slow down…” Mark stuttered, his hands white from how hard he was grasping onto the countertop.

You didn’t pay him any mind, continuing to work to hear those sweet sounds from him, inching more and more as you tried tips you had heard before. Hollow out your cheeks, swirl your tongue, make eye contact. As you looked up at Mark and his crumbling composure, you confirmed that the last one definitely made him the craziest.

You had maybe fit only a little more than half of him in, taking a few breaks to catch your breath as you relied on your hand, and Mark was right where you wanted him. Moans and whines mixed together as his body shaked, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Either you were exceptionally good at this for your first time, or Mark couldn’t believe it was you. Likely both.

After what seemed like forever, you finally felt him hit the back of your throat, and you kept your hand on what didn’t fit. A few tears pricked in your eyes, but you didn’t care. You were enjoying seeing Mark fall apart way too much.

You wondered what would happen if you bobbed your head even more, and so you did. It seemed that was the breaking point for you poor boyfriend as he shuddered, his hand on the back of your head, grabbing at with caution. “Y/n…God. You can’t…” Mark whined out, his body shaking even more.

You could, and you kept going until he was reduced to whines and pants and you could feel him twitching in your mouth. He hunched over, trying to guide you away. “Love…I’m gonna cum…I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You ignored all of his efforts, finding his words as an encouragement to only keep going more and more and more. Then, finally he let out one final moan that told you to expect the hot fluid that filled your mouth, and you tried your best to keep it all contained as you finally let it out with a pop.

Mark leaned down to you, his eyes wide as he realized what he had just done. “Baby, you don’t have to…” Mark began to say, but cut himself short as he watched you gulp, licking your thumb for the small bit that had dribbled out of your mouth. “Did you just…?”

You nodded, standing up to your feet and grabbing onto his arms, almost like you were trying to indicate something. Soon after, Mark's lips crashed on yours.

There was something so attractive about a man who kissed you senseless regardless of having just came in your mouth, unafraid of his own taste. It was even more attractive as he picked you up effortlessly, never breaking the kiss, and sitting you down on the sink. Not to mention the way he knew what you wanted, and what you wanted was him.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, Okay?” Mark whispered against your neck, his hands on your thighs as he planted kiss after kiss. Soon, they roamed to the hem of your shirt. “Can I take all of this off?”

You nodded, barely saying a small ‘yeah’ as he started undressing you like a present. First your shirt, your bra, your shorts, and saving your panties for last. Never taking his lips off of yours or anywhere on your body as he did so.

“You’re so pretty. So good to me.” Mark said, placing kisses all over your jawline, on your chest, on your stomach, wherever he could reach. “I love you so much, Y/n. My beautiful girl. I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Mark…” you groaned, saying his name in the way he knows means you needed something more.

Mark kissed your shoulders, his hand going down to your clothed cunt, feeling how soaked through it already was. He slid them off, throwing them to the side with the rest of your clothes. “I know, love, I know. I just really wanna be inside you, is that alright with you?”

You nodded eagerly, “I have condoms in my drawer.” You told him.

“Wait here.” Mark said as he scurried off to find one. You could hear him opening every drawer, probably making a mess rummaging through your things and finally he stumbled back in. Mark ripped it open and slipped it on, going back in to place a deep but quick kiss on your lips.

“Come, I wanna try something,” He said, pulling you off the sink. You expected him to move locations, instead, he just turned you around, back against him as you faced the mirror.

“I…Is that okay…?” Mark asked timidly. “I just…I want you to see.”

If you weren’t losing your mind already, you were at that point. Your hand stretched out behind you for him, finding his face. “Yeah, it’s okay…just please, do it already.”

It was an offer he couldn’t resist and he was lining himself up with you before you knew it. “I don’t think I need to prep you, but…” He said, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Tell me how you feel, love.”

It was your turn to grip onto the counter as you felt Mark slide in, bottoming out in you pretty easily. It was a new position and Mark was just girthy, but the both of you seemed adjusted after a few moments.

“Mark…please move,” you pleaded to your boyfriend, yearning for feel some type of friction. Mark wouldn’t stop kissing your shoulders, your back, your neck, as he started to give you the movement you wanted.

Every thrust felt enhanced in this position, and you could hardly hold yourself up. Mark always started slow, but once he started to get comfortable, his stamina would allow him to just go faster and faster until one of you came first.

This was no different and your head hung down as he started to pick up his pace. That is, until he used his free hand that wasn’t on your waist directing your movements to pick it up, holding it firm so you could stare in the mirror. He groaned in your ear, losing himself by the second as he spoke. “I…I want you to watch.”

The phrase went straight to your core, and you could only shudder as you did as he wanted. You watched as he went from looking at you in the mirror, down to where he was pumping in and out of you like his life depended on it. You watched his hand on your waist, directing you onto him.

Needless to say, neither of you were going to last very long in this position. Soon Mark was getting sloppier in his movements, and when he started pushing your back down, reaching even deeper than he already was, you knew you were close.

“Mark….I…I’m really close…” You panted, your legs shaking underneath you.

That seemed to only make your boyfriend go faster, giving you the last bit of everything he had. “So am I…we can cum together, love.”

Mark resorted to both hands on your hips as you reached your peak and it had sent you over the edge. You leaned on the counter riding out your orgasm meanwhile Mark felt your walls contract around him, and it only took a few more thrusts before he was right there with you.

He slipped out of you, throwing away the condom as he caught his breath, seeing you leaned over the counter.

A few seconds later, Mark was hooking his arm around you and under your knees, carrying you bridal style to your bed. You were still out of it as he sat you down, and it was beyond how he has the ability to walk around after that.

Mark had gone into the bathroom, and came back out with his boxers on, a wash cloth, and a fresh pair of clothes to help you change into.

Sex was great. With Mark it was amazing, actually. However, nothing felt as great as having a partner who takes care of you, who helps you clean up and change into new clothes, who you know loves you unconditionally because you’ve known him for years. And during all this time, he always treated you with the same dignity and devotion.

As Mark finished helping you slip on a hoodie, you grabbed his hands, looking down at them with a warm look in your eye. “You know, I still can’t believe how many times you tried to confess to me.” You told him with a giggle, recalling the story he told you about his trials and tribulations in finally telling you he loves you.

Mark knelt down, wanting to meet your eye level better. “I can’t either. I’m honestly surprised we’re here even now.”

“I’m not.” You answered. “I don’t know…I just always felt like one day we would be. I always knew you’d be first to crack.”

Mark laughed, scooting closer to as his eyes stayed locked with yours. “I’m just grad I kept trying, because apparently the third time was the charm.”

“I took a leap of faith, and it gave me the love of my life.”

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

- chapter 1

-chapter 2