v🕷️— texts with bestf!mark (who’s secretly spiderman) who’s secretly in love with you
part one • part two • part three • part four • part five
your attention was taken away from your phone to the other side of your bedroom. you could barely make out the silhouette hunched over outside your window, body resting against the glass. you realised the thumping noise came from their head, continuously knocking with feigned strength. every instinct in your body told you to keep still and not move, but somewhere in your gut, you knew you had to open it.
you took the covers off and got up from the bed, timid steps approaching the window as your heart rapidly sped in your chest. the closer you got, the more you could see the figure now barely moving. a blurred mix of red and blue, bloody tears and holes along stretched fabric, tousled hair that covered half of a bruised face. but you could recognise him.
mark had spent his last remaining strength trying to get to you. the fight had rendered him completely weak; he could barely find any superhuman strength left to even keep his eyes open. but when your text came through his phone, he knew he had to see you. he knew he had to confess to everything, directly to you. nevermind that his head weighed like a tonne of bricks, or that he couldn’t walk in a straight line without his vision going blurry, or that he was sure his left eye was bleeding internally—mark had to see your face.
you turned the latch and pulled your window open, and mark came tumbling in with a disgruntled sound and a cloud of cement dust. from inside your room, he looked so out of place. he had spent half of his teenage life in here. the desk next to your bed was where the two of you did your physics homework, something mark would always end up doing for you. your mirror that hung from your bedroom door was where he took countless pictures with you, every single one saved in his favourites album. the left side of your bed that was unofficially his, a space that felt more like home than even his own apartment. but now, lying in a room that he could describe like the back of his hand, mark felt like he didn’t belong there.
“mark,” you said softly, a hand on his shoulder. he winced once, and you backed your hand away from him. he looked terrible, defeated. from the fight or from something else? even he didn’t know. his head was still on the floor, his body lying awkwardly sideways. “i’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” you whispered to him. he nodded faintly.
with a little struggle from him, mark eventually sat up and was leaning against your wall. the faint light from your nightlight cast a soft glow over him. you could make out the suit you had only seen on the news, the infamous spider logo that rested dead centre on his chest. several cuts and bruises were scattered along his face and neck. a long tear from the edge of his shoulder blade ran all the way down to his lower waist, a bright red gash that had dried blood along its crevices. mark’s eyes were closed, yet you could still make out the dark circles under his eyes that showed fatigue. he was in a cold sweat, the loss of blood making his complexion dangerously pale. it suddenly struck you how real this was. for five years, your best friend, the boy you had known all your life, was spiderman. you sat in front of him, speechless.
mark noticed a change in your breathing and opened his eyes to look at you. how your eyes were glued to his chest, how your fists were clenched in your lap, how your heart raced at lightning speed. a new pain spread across his body, a feeling of dread that imbedded itself inside the pit of his stomach. the gash along his ribcage made it hard for him to differentiate between real pain and heartache, but either way mark didn’t want to feel it anymore.
he reached for your hands, but you got up before he could touch you. a sniffle escaped you as you dusted your hands off against your pyjamas. “i’m going to get my first-aid kit,” you said, hoping to escape to the bathroom to catch your breath. mark didn’t say anything as you left to go get your med kit, he didn’t say anything as you silently guided him to sit on your bed, he didn’t say anything as you carefully pulled his suit halfway down his torso, nor did he say anything as you quietly cleaned his wound with shaking hands. mark thought about how it would have been better to just suffer the fate of the mechanical bull than be here with you right now.
“are you just gonna sit there like an idiot, or are you gonna explain yourself to me?” you asked him, failing to sound stern. you purposely dabbed the antiseptic closer to his wound, making him wince. you figured he deserved it after keeping this from you. but the sound he made made your heart sink, and instant regret washed over you. “sorry,” you mumbled.
“no, no. i deserved that,” he finally spoke, voice hoarse and restrained. he tried to turn to face you, but every move he made felt like another fatal blow. you switched places from sitting behind him to sitting in front of him, though you still couldn’t look him in the eye. you fiddled with the kit in your hand and pulled a roll of bandage out to wrap around his wound. but mark’s hands stopped you. he gently placed them over yours, still warm. still familiar.
“look at me,” he said your name like it was a prayer. a silent plea of forgiveness. reluctantly, you brought your eyes to meet his. at that moment, everything stopped. the anger, the betrayal, the fear and worry. it all faded. now that mark was sitting in front of you like this, completely and utterly vulnerable after facing a brush with death, you didn’t care anymore.
“i thought you were dead,” your voice faltered, exposing your sadness. the crack in your voice sent a pang through mark’s chest; somehow it was ten times worse than every wound on his body. his hands were still in yours, clutching onto them like he was tethered to you.
“i’m sorry,” he said softly. “fuck, i’m so sorry,”
a stray tear fell from your eyes, and mark was quick to wipe it with his finger. his brain couldn’t find the right words. he had so much he wanted to say to you, but nothing could cover the fact that he had kept a portion of his life a secret from you. you, whom he had promised to never hide anything from since you were kids. you, who had spilt your own secrets to him without holding back. you were an open book to him, and up until now, you thought he was an open book to you.
“why? how did you even— i mean when did this start? how long were you gonna keep this from me?,” questions flooded your mind and threatened to drown you. you had so much to ask him, so much you wanted to know. how did this happen? when did it happen? who else knew? he could tell by your expression that you had questions, but those could be answered some other time.
“i know you have a lot of questions right now, but can i just say something first?” mark wanted to clear the air between you before he answered any of your questions. you agreed, against your better judgement, but you knew he wanted to be honest with you first.
“okay um,” he cleared his throat, eyes blinking as he tilted his head in the way you knew he did whenever he was nervous. a habit he had developed in high school and never really got rid of. “first of all, i’m sorry.” he started.
“you said that already.” you deadpanned. he sighed, head down.
“i know but i don’t know what else to say. there aren’t any words to describe how sorry i am. i want you to know that i just wanted to keep you safe,” he continued, his hands still holding yours.
“the moment it happened, i ran right to you. but then, every single fibre of my body told me not to tell you. my heart literally had to fight with my brain. i knew that if i told you about it, it would open up a whole new world for the both of us, and somehow i knew it was going to be dangerous. i couldn’t risk that,” his brown eyes bore into yours, the mole under his right eye catching your attention. you listened intently, nodding along slowly and occasionally tightening the hold of his hand in yours.
“i can protect myself, mark, you know that—” he interrupted you.
“i know you can. but i can’t.” mark took a second to collect himself, rearranging the words to fit the script in his head.
“i can’t imagine anything happening to you because of me. nothing good ever comes from finding out someone you know is a superhero. i mean, look at every comic i have ever read ever. the hero’s loved ones always get hurt. or worse, they die.” his voice betrayed him at the end, pained and cracked like shattered glass.
“be serious, mark,” you sighed.
“i am serious,” he cried out. you knew he was, but something about the way he spoke to you seemed like there was something else he was hiding.
“what aren’t you telling me?” you asked him. this made mark look away from you and out the window. you took a moment to admire his profile. how his jaw was clenched in thought, how the cut above his lip distracted you the entire time he was talking, and how his dark hair looked messy yet still complemented his features. you always thought mark was attractive. even when he had unflattering braces or wore his thick prescription glasses before opting for lenses, though he still wore them sometimes because he knew you preferred him with them.
“i’m not mad about the whole spiderman thing anymore, okay? i get it; you kept it from me to protect me. i know. but god, mark, would it have killed you to at least let me know in a less life-threatening way? you almost died, and i had to spend a whole day worrying about whether or not you were alive, and on top of that, finding out my best friend is spiderman? i mean who even does that—”
before you could finish, mark had pulled his hands from yours and pulled you in for a kiss. his palms were on either side of your face, holding you steady as his lips pressed faintly to yours. you were stunned for a moment, but you kissed him back.
the kiss was soft and tender. it conveyed years of pining, yearning for something that was so close yet so out of reach in fear of losing it forever. mark thought back to the first moment he wanted to kiss you. freshman year of high school. right here in your room. you had been laughing all night, homework abandoned on the desk as you clutched your stomach from the joke mark had made. you loved how much mark could make you laugh even with the most stupid thing, and you told him you loved him on instinct. but something about him changed that night. you had said those words a million times to him. but that night, laughing together with you in comfort made mark realise he wanted to be the one to make you laugh forever.
you broke apart from him for air, forehead resting against his own. he kept his hands in place, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. you couldn’t move your mouth; your tongue was electrified. the air was buzzing, and at that moment you realised he was half naked in your bedroom, covered in dry blood. but mark didn’t care. all that mattered was that he had finally kissed you.
slowly, he backed away from you to read your reaction. your eyes were closed, lips still slightly pouted. mark didn’t know what to do, so he just sat there quietly.
your eyes snapped open. you blinked up at him slowly, registering what he had just said. mark didn’t look phased. he looked relieved even.
“i’ve always loved you. it was always you,” he said your name again. it sounded like the sweetest music; the way he said your name was your new favourite song.
“i know, i know. it’s kinda fucked up of me to say that when i just told you i’m the city’s masked vigilante while also bleeding on your bed, but—"
“i love you too,” you said back, a small smile on your lips. a blush dusted your cheeks; even in the dark room, mark could make it out. just how beautiful you looked like this.
“not in a friend way. like a…” you paused, trying to find the right words as mark had a silent breakdown in front of you.
“like a ‘i want to wake up beside you every day and be able to kiss you whenever i want’ kind of way. does that make sense?” embarrassment crept up your neck and made your ears burn red. you didn’t know what else to do, so you buried your head in your hands.
mark chuckled, warm hands coming up to guide your head to face him. his eyes shone like stars, bright and so full of life. for a second, the two of you forgot that he was essentially bleeding out on your bedsheets, but neither of you cared. you leaned in again, closing the gap between you.
this time the kiss was deeper. like it held a different meaning. a promise. a pact. you two were now in this together. despite the new dangers, the overbearing pressure and the threat of losing each other, you both had everything you had ever wanted. right here.
a/n: hi lovelies here’s the very much awaited chapter!! and its written!! hope you guys like it im currently writing this at 1am lol and sadly this story is coming to an end :(( wc is 2.5k btw LMAO
dts: @n9vacane ily bestie
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