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lassostark · 3 years

Text

So yeah, I got carried away. As usual. *facepalm* Anyway, Happy Birthday, Wolfie @jaskierswolf!!! I hope you enjoy reading this long-ass fic, lovely. 😀💙

(Edited) Word Count: 9k (I have a problem, I know)

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier

Tags: AU: College/University, Professor!Jaskier, Professor!Geralt, Soulmates, Rated M for Language, Jaskier!Whump, Miscommunication, Enemies to Lovers (ish, can’t find the right tag sorry), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending

Read on AO3 here

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The Other Half

“Do I have a class to teach here or are all of you going to be focused on your phones?”

Jaskier is standing in front of his desk, hands on his hips as he gives his Creative Writing class students a stern look. Several of them look up from their phones with guilty expressions, and if Jaskier wasn’t in the middle of a lecture about storytelling in poetry, he would’ve laughed at their almost identical expressions.

“Sorry, Professor,” Rebecca, one of his favorite students, says. Jaskier raises an eyebrow at her, and the brunette blushes faintly as she reluctantly turns off her phone.

“Care to share what has everyone’s attention glued to their phones instead of me?” Jaskier smirks, injecting a bit of humor into his query. He notes how half of his students chuckle as others follow Rebecca’s lead in turning off their phones.

“It’s Sole Mate, sir,” a student from the back answers.

Jaskier frowns slightly. “Soulmate? Did another celebrity couple split up because they met their other half?”

There’s a ripple of laughter in the classroom while others shake their head. Thankfully, it’s Rebecca who gives him a proper answer.

“Er, no, sir,” she begins. “Sole Mate. The new app that’s been circulating lately? Everyone said it’s loads better than Tinder because instead of just random hook-ups -- um, I mean dates -- Sole Mate allows you to find your, well, soulmate.”

By the end of her explanation, Jaskier’s eyebrows are nearly reaching his hairline. He’s no stranger to social media and technology, so Jaskier knows what Rebecca is talking about. In fact, he’s noticed that aside from the students in the campus, he’s heard his fellow colleagues talking about it every now and then. Which is odd, to be honest, because for one, professors like Jaskier aren’t really that open about the whole soulmate thing. It’s not a taboo, per se, but more like a personal thing because not everyone has met their soulmate yet.

So while he’s aware that people are talking about the topic, Jaskier didn’t think that it was this big of a deal.

“I… see.” Jaskier nods, giving himself a few extra seconds to come up with a follow-up question. He coughs lightly before clearing his throat. “I’ve heard about that app, but I’m afraid I’m not familiar with its algorithm. What makes it so special, hm?”

Another student, Marcus, raises his ring-laden hand in the air. Jaskier gestures for him to speak.

“Well, sir, Sole Mate gives you the option to upload a photo of your soulmark. The photo is never made public, of course, but rather it’s an added feature that’ll help the app. Once it’s in the system, Sole Mate narrows down the scope of the search to people who have a similar look to your mark. It’s broken into groups which the app refers to as Sole Groups. Then you just chat with the people who are in those groups that meet the criteria until you meet the one whose mark matches yours.”

“I read an article from CNN yesterday,” Arif pipes in. “Since the app launched three months ago, there’s been a 95% increase of people finding their soulmates compared to the last ten years. And just yesterday, I found out my great-aunt found her match!”

“I’m going on a date tonight and I think they’re my match!”

Jaskier looks on in befuddlement as his students start to whisper excitedly to one another about the prospect of meeting their soulmate. He blinks and shakes his head before calling their attention once more.

“Alright, alright!” Jaskier calls over their chattering. “Enough now, please. Midterms are a month from now and we still have much ground to cover.”

“How about you, sir? Have you found your Sole Group yet?”

Jaskier hides his amusement at how eager his students look at him. Instead, he shakes his head and smirks at them as he moves around his desk to pick up his chalk.

“No, Damian,” he says mildly. “I don’t see a need for me to do so.”

“But why not?” Rebecca asks, sounding both curious and confused. “Don’t you want to meet your soulmate, sir?”

Fortunate that he’s facing the blackboard so his students can’t see his conflicted expression, Jaskier writes a few notes on the board as he flippantly replies, “I’m happy on my own and don’t see myself settling down, Ms. Haywood.” Before his students can pry further, he adds in a sterner tone, “Now, please pay attention to the lecture because there will be a quiz before the end of this class.”

There’s a collective groan behind him which Jaskier happily ignores as he launches into his lecture once more.

“‘I’m happy on my own and don’t see myself settling down’?” Essi repeats to Jaskier later when they’re on their lunch break. “That’s a load of bollocks, love.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes as he pops a grape in his mouth.

“Obviously,” he says after swallowing his food. “My students don’t need to know I already met my soulmate, Essi.”

“I know that,” Essi replies. “And I respect your privacy for saying that. But you don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

“What the hell are you on about now?”

“I mean that you don’t have to lie to yourself, Jask.”

“I’m not lying!”

Essi scoffs at him. “Oh, please. We’ve known each other for nearly ten years. I know when you’re lying, Jask. You do that thing with your lips; it’s subtle but don’t think I didn’t see it earlier.”

Jaskier scowls at his friend, who’s one of the best and strictest Marketing professors in Redania University. So instead of replying, he decides to take a huge bite out of his ham and egg sandwich.

She’s lucky I love her, Jaskier thinks moodily.

“Still haven’t spoken to him?” Essi asks him after several minutes of comfortable silence pass.

‘Him’ being Jaskier’s soulmate, obviously.

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Are you ever going to speak to him?”

“Once he has his head out of his arse, maybe I’ll contemplate breathing the same air as him.”

Essi whistles low. “Damn, was the confrontation really that bad, Jask?”

Jaskier pointedly stares at her.

“Essi, darling, I’ve told you about it a hundred times in various states of inebriation and sobriety. Of course it was bad. It was horrendous for both parties.”

And honestly, Jaskier doesn’t want to talk about it. Hell, he doesn’t even want to think about it because every time he does, he feels nothing but disappointment and anger and hurt. Goddamn it, it’s been three years and it still fucking hurts. It’s a constant phantom pain in his chest that Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with, and he’s been living with that kind of pain for years with no hopes for resolution in sight.

He thinks of that day, the confrontation as Essi puts it, and all Jaskier can think of are golden eyes filled with apathy. An inscrutable expression on his soulmate’s chiseled features after Jaskier told him that they’re meant to be together.

Well, Jaskier didn’t say it like that, exactly, because he was nervous. He was rambling and sweating in places he didn’t know he could sweat, and he had just met his soulmate for fuck’s sake!

Alas, like the idealist he is, his expectations didn’t meet his reality.

“Oh shit,” Essi suddenly says, breaking Jaskier from his glum thoughts. “Don’t look. Your three o’clock.”

Because Jaskier has an issue with impulse control, he looks.

And he freezes.

There, dressed in tight-fitting grey slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, is Jaskier’s soulmate.

Geralt Rivia.

His hair is fixed into a man bun, and Jaskier feels his chest constrict at the wisps of silver hair framing his jawline. Geralt hasn’t seen them, thankfully, because he’s busy chatting with Yennefer Vengerberg, the gorgeous yet cutthroat International Relations professor who’s notorious for failing 40% of her students.

Jaskier is about to look away when Geralt turns his head and meets his eyes.

Fuck.

He notes the deep furrow between Geralt’s brows, the Anthropology professor’s hold on his lunch tray tightening when their gazes meet across the room. As much as Jaskier talks about being alright on his own, he can’t help but secretly admit to himself that he likes the shiver of pleasure that runs down his spine when their eyes meet. Jaskier read somewhere that researchers called it The Spark. It’s cheesy, yes, but it’s exactly that. An electrifying feeling shared between two halves of a whole finding each other.

Then reality comes crashing down and Jaskier remembers what Geralt told him that day and he thinks: Fuck this.

Appetite gone, Jaskier clears his throat and looks away. He deliberately ignores Essi’s sympathetic gaze as he packs up the rest of his uneaten food. He stands up and slings his shoulder bag before daring to look at his friend.

“I just remembered I have papers to grade. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Essi nods her head. Jaskier doesn’t wait for a reply and turns to make his escape, but not before he catches Geralt still staring at him.

For the life of him, Jaskier is still unable to read the man’s facial expressions. It’s just so… inscrutable. Like staring into a slab of brick wall with no hopes of breaking through it. Jaskier doesn’t know why he still finds himself caring at this point.

Who is he kidding? He’s always cared.

“Professor Pankratz.”

Jaskier averts his eyes from Geralt to meet Yennefer’s violet eyes, a smirk on her ruby lips. They’re not close, and though he finds the woman equally terrifying and beautiful, Jaskier can’t help but be a little fond of her.

“Professor Vengerberg,” he acknowledges her haughty look with a faint smile.

From his peripheral gaze, Geralt looks like he’s opening his mouth to address him. But Jaskier thinks it’s probably a trick of the light, so he walks away and forces himself not to look back.

No matter how painful it is. No matter how his soulmark feels like it’s going to burn a hole through his shirt.

3 years ago

“Is that the new Anthropology professor?” Essi whispers to Jaskier excitedly.

Jaskier gazes across the spacious meeting room to find the person his friend is referring to. It’s about damn time the university hired someone to replace Mousesack. The elderly scholar looked like ready to drop if he stayed for another semester.

“I don’t see-- oh.”

Oh, indeed. Jaskier shamelessly eyes the silver-haired Adonis dressed in grey slacks and a tight-fitting dress shirt. He notes with mild amusement how the newcomer looks a little awkward standing beside the drinks table, drink in hand as he silently eyes his surroundings with a guarded expression.

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Jaskier says under his breath.

“The hair isn’t doing it for me, but yeah he’s gorgeous,” Essi agrees with a hum.

“I’m gonna introduce myself. Be right back.”

Jaskier doesn’t wait for Essi’s response as he quickly crosses the room to approach the brooding man. Like a lone wolf eyeing his prey, he thinks with an inward chuckle.

“Hello, there,” Jaskier greets the man with a friendly smile once he’s standing a respectable distance from him. He quickly takes note of their height difference. Well, more like a lack of it as Jaskier surmises the burly man is only an inch or two taller than him. “You must be the new Anthropology professor. I’m Julian Pankratz, but everyone here calls me Jaskier. I teach Introduction to Creative Writing and Advanced Creative Writing.”

Jaskier feels his smile start to falter as the silver-haired Adonis initially doesn’t accept his handshake. He’s about to bring down his arm when he feels a warm, calloused hand curl around his.

That’s when he feels it: the spark. Jaskier is unable to hide a gasp when he feels an electrifying feeling trail down his spine. He blinks owlishly at the other man who looks just as shocked as him.

“Geralt Rivia,” the man introduces himself after a few seconds of awkward silence pass. Jaskier feels another shiver down his spine upon hearing the low, growly voice.

“N-nice to meet you, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

Instead of feeling annoyed, Jaskier feels endeared at the non-verbal reply. He finds his gaze falling on their clasped hands, and he’s about to let go when something catches his eye and he freezes on the spot.

Geralt has his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, so Jaskier can see the veins and light dusting of hair on his arm. But that’s not what he’s focusing on, no. He finds himself drawn to Geralt’s forearm, where a familiar-looking mark resides. A mark that Jaskier can draw in his sleep because he bears the same mark since he was born.

Holy shit, Jaskier thinks as he looks up to meet Geralt’s puzzled frown with a slackened expression. I just met my soulmate.

Present day

“Hang on, you bloody cat,” Jaskier grumbles under his breath as he enters his one-bedroom apartment later that evening. Mister Fuzzball meows and curls his orange tail around his calf while Jaskier locks the door. “Yes, yes, you will get your meal in a bit. Just let me put down my bag, darling.”

Mister Fuzzball meows again as the tabby cat trails after him.

Jaskier goes through the motions of his nighttime routine like clockwork. Change into his home clothes, feed Mister Fuzzball, prepare his own dinner, and then eat his dinner on the couch while watching a rerun episode of The Office.

Afterwards, he leaves the dirty dishes on the sink to sit on the small dining table to grade more papers. He works silently for a couple of hours while nursing a glass of wine, and when Jaskier finds that he can no longer find the energy to constructively criticize his students’ writing, he turns in for the night. He cuddles Mister Fuzzball for a few minutes before going to the loo to brush his teeth and do his extensive skincare routine.

By eleven o’clock, Jaskier is in bed with the lights turned off. He lets out a sigh as he stares aimlessly at his ceiling and wonders how his life has come to this. Just going through the motions of a routine well-established whilst trying his best to ignore the ache in his chest.

Lost in his thoughts, Jaskier finds himself stroking his left collarbone, tracing the lines that are slightly raised as he hums a nameless tune under his breath.

Rebirth. That’s what his soulmark symbolizes. But all Jaskier feels these days is the opposite.

He doesn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

“- so I told mum that I’ll spend Christmas with them and then go to Scotland for New Year’s with Edmund. What about you?”

Belatedly, Jaskier notices the silence has stretched on, so he looks up from staring at the painting of Philippa Eilhart to meet Essi’s worried gaze.

“Sorry, what?”

“Are you alright, Jask?” Essi asks. “You don’t look too well, love.”

Jaskier bats off her hands as his friend tries to feel his forehead for a fever.

“I’m fine, Essi. Just tired.”

“Not sleeping well?”

He shakes his head. He can’t explain it, but he’s feeling more lethargic than usual.

“No, I’m sleeping fine. I’m just tired, s’all.”

Essi doesn’t look convinced, so Jaskier musters what strength he has left to smile at her.

“I’m fine, mother. There’s no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“If you say so, Jask,” Essi replies with an eye roll. Then teasingly, she adds, “Better apply concealer, though. I can see your bags from here.”

Jaskier gasps and tosses the crumpled wrapper of his sandwich at her.

3 years ago

“Geralt! Hey, hi. Do you have a minute?”

Jaskier smiles nervously at the hot Anthropology professor who is about to exit the break room. Geralt turns to look at Jaskier with a puzzled frown before he grunts and nods his head. Relieved, Jaskier tilts his head and gestures for the other man to follow him to a somewhat secluded corner of the room. Although standing beside the painting of Philippa Eilhart, one of the founders of Redania University, isn’t such a good idea. But Jaskier is out of good ideas at this point because he’s nearly bursting at the seams to do something he’s been meaning to do for the past three months since he met Geralt Rivia.

“What did you want to talk about?” Geralt asks him, looking curiously at Jaskier now.

Jaskier clears his throat and wipes his sweaty palms on his slim corduroy pants as he works up the nerve to just… do it.

“Yes, um, so,” he begins eloquently. Oh gods, this was easier in his head. “So we’ve known each for a few months now and I like to think we’ve reached a certain understanding of one another. One might, er, even say that we’re casual friends at this point.”

Geralt blinks at him but doesn’t say anything. If Jaskier looks closely, which he is, he thinks there’s something akin to amusement dancing in the other man’s golden eyes. Could be a trick of the light, but Jaskier has high hopes.

“Geralt, um,” Jaskier continues. He tries his best to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his belly as he focuses on what he’s going to say next. “I don’t know how to say this, exactly, because it’s never happened to me before. But, um. Well, the university is singing your praise and you’re an unexpected hit with the students. No surprise there, if you ask me, you’re an incredibly beautiful man and, oh god.”

“You’re rambling,” Geralt notes with a slight upwards quirk of his mouth.

Jaskier scratches the back of his head. “Yes, I’m well aware, thank you.”

Geralt snorts, looking amused now.

“Just spit it out, Jask,” he says not unkindly.

And, well. That ought to do the trick.

“We’re soulmates,” Jaskier blurts out. He doesn’t notice Geralt stiffen, too preoccupied with getting the words out now that he’s finally said it. “And before you say anything, I saw your mark. On the first day we met - well, I introduced myself. We shook hands and you had sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and that’s when I noticed the mark etched on your forearm.” When Geralt doesn’t say anything, Jaskier hurriedly adds, “I have the same mark, you see. Right here.”

Then and there, Jaskier unbuttons his white dress shirt and yanks the collar of his undershirt down to show Geralt the same dandelion tattoo across his left collarbone.

Seconds, and then minutes, pass by and Geralt remains stoic, an unreadable expression on his chiseled features. Jaskier’s smile falters as he self-consciously buttons up his shirt once more, feeling naked and seen under the stoic gaze of his colleague.

“Geralt? What, um. Please say something.”

It takes several seconds before Geralt reacts. The older man breathes in deep through his nose and slowly exhales through his mouth. He blinks at Jaskier, golden eyes swiftly glancing at his covered soulmark.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier nearly balks at the response. Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that!

“Geralt?”

When Geralt meets his hopeful stare, Jaskier knows his answer from the lack of emotion in the other man’s eyes. Something in him cracks at that very moment.

“I don’t know what to say,” Geralt begins haltingly.

Jaskier’s voice is hoarse when he answers, “The truth would be nice.”

Geralt hums but doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. He looks at the painting to his left, and Jaskier silently observes him as he works up the nerve to share his thoughts.

Eventually, Geralt settles upon saying, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

A part of Jaskier was already expecting it, based on Geralt’s initial reaction, but it still hurts, holy shit.

“Can you…” Jaskier clears his throat. “Can you tell me why? Maybe, maybe we can compromise?”

His voice trails off when Geralt shakes his head.

“I’m not… available. The whole soulmate thing is… hmm. It’s not my thing. I don’t believe in that whole destiny crap. I’m sorry.”

Not his thing? Doesn’t believe in the “whole destiny crap”?

What?

“But, but Geralt,” Jaskier protests weakly. “You’re my other half. And I’m your--”

“I said I’m not interested,” Geralt reiterates firmly, golden eyes determinedly not meeting Jaskier. “I’m sorry, Jaskier.”

Then without waiting for a response, Geralt shoulders past him and leaves the break room like he’s being chased by a pack of wolves.

Jaskier stares at the spot where Geralt was standing just moments ago, feeling like he lost the one thing he never had in the first place.

Present day

“Remind me again why Valentine’s Day is not considered a proper holiday?”

Essi is looking through the books that line up the shelves of Jaskier’s office as he rummages the piles of paper scattered on his desk.

“Because Valentine’s Day is not a proper holiday, Essi,” Jaskier answers somewhat distractedly. He continues searching for one of the papers he remembers grading the night before, but he can’t find. It. Here. “It’s just a big, fat scheme for companies to capitalize on lovesick fools. Now where the bloody fuck is that paper?!”

Essi ignores his grumbling.

“Hmm, true, but they should. I mean, any business big or small can develop a strong value proposition aimed at lovesick couples. Of course, the competition would be ghastly, but considering that Sole Mate has matched 5,000 couples in the UK alone, I think they missed an opportunity there.”

“Whatever you--” Jaskier starts to say, only to immediately cut himself off when he starts coughing. And it’s not the good kind of cough, either.

He spends almost a minute coughing up a lung, and he ultimately accepts the tissues Essi hands him. He thanks her with a thumbs up before he spits out the phlegm on it. Jaskier crumples it up before tossing it in the bin under his desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Are you okay?” Essi asks him, sounding worried.

Jaskier nods as he clears his throat before speaking.

“Yes yes, I’m fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“Jask, you don’t look fine.”

Jaskier waves off his friend’s concern as he pushes a book out of the way. He makes a triumphant sound when he finally finds the missing paper. Jaskier quickly shoves it into his messenger bag as he picks up his blazer to shrug into it.

He meets Essi’s worried gaze, and Jaskier tries to appease her with a dimpled smile.

“Turn that frown upside down. I’m perfectly fine, Essi.”

Essi still doesn’t look convinced. “Have you been to the doctor? You should go for a check-up.”

Jaskier shakes his head.

“I’m still recovering from the flu last week but I’m regularly drinking that herbal tea you recommended to me. It’s working wonders on my throat. I’ll be right as rain in no time, don’t you worry.”

Rejected soulbonds are few and far between as far as Jaskier is aware. There’s not much study material available on the Internet, but what he’s found out so far doesn’t help ease the anxiety that’s been building up for months now.

Lethargy. A decrease in the immune system. Difficulty with sleeping. Shortness of breath.

They’re a few of the symptoms that researchers from Kerack Institute compiled a few years ago from studying broken, or rejected, soulbonds. According to their study, it’s not a life-threatening situation. People who experience this usually end up recovering after a period of time. Broken or rejected soulbonds usually occur if the person’s soulmate is deceased before they meet, or if their other half is already in a committed relationship with someone else.

In Jaskier’s case, it’s neither. Geralt’s rejection still stings after all these years, and Jaskier doesn’t understand why he still feels like it happened yesterday. The ache in his chest is not dissipating at all. In fact, it’s worsening as days go by. He’s been to see a cardiologist, and the scans showed that his heart is perfectly fine. So whatever Jaskier is going through right now is not physical, but more… psychological? Emotional?

He’s not certain about that since there’s not enough material about his case. But one thing does stand out from what Jaskier read about rejected soulbonds.

Proximity is what makes or breaks the affected party.

Unfortunately, Jaskier and Geralt are employed in the same university. They attend the same weekly meeting, attend the university’s functions when required, and they usually see each other during their breaks. It’s not often, but it happens frequently.

So the more he sees Geralt, the worse Jaskier feels. And over time, it could literally be his life on the line.

And therein lies the problem.

Well, there’s only one thing left to do.

“You want to go on sabbatical?”

“Yes.”

“Right now?”

“I believe that’s what I just said, yes.”

Vesemir Morhen, the president of Redania University, looks at Jaskier with a perplexed expression.

“Jaskier, may I know why you’re requesting to go on leave in the middle of the semester?”

Jaskier hesitates for a second before replying, “I just think it’s the right time to do so, sir. I talked to Priscilla, and she’s willing to shoulder my classes for the rest of term. There’s not much ground to cover--”

“Jaskier, Priscilla is going on maternity leave starting next month,” Vesemir interrupts him, eyebrow raised.

“Well, um, I’m aware of that.”

“Then why--”

“That’s why I talked to Coën to cover for her, well, for me, next--”

“No.”

Jaskier snaps his mouth shut mid-tirade at Vesemir’s stern gaze.

“Sir, please, I--”

Vesemir shakes his head.

“No, Jaskier. If you really want to take a sabbatical, you can do so after the term ends. At this moment, I can’t allow you to go on leave. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“Very well, sir,” Jaskier answers stiffly, knowing that once Vesemir has made his mind up there’s no chance of him changing his decision.

So he’s stuck for another three months here.

Fuck, he curses to himself. Damn it.

It’s a little late in the evening and Jaskier is just about to leave his office. After hours of hunching over his desk marking papers from his Advanced Creative Writing class, Jaskier is more than ready to eat leftovers for dinner and binge-watch a few episodes of Anne With An E. Fortunately, he doesn’t have a scheduled class until tomorrow afternoon so he can sleep in a little bit later.

Jaskier locks his office, pockets his key, and turns to walk down the hallway towards the parking lot when he finds himself meeting Geralt’s gaze across the corridor. A jolt runs down his spine as he staggers in his steps, and Jaskier is momentarily nonplussed at the peculiar look on the burly man’s face.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says eventually when he doesn’t speak up.

Jaskier swallows inaudibly, his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth.

“Geralt.”

Jaskier waits patiently as he eyes the Anthropology professor who looks like he’s working up the courage to say something. It’s certainly a first, and Jaskier is not sure what Destiny has up her - his? Their? - sleeve this time.

He’s fucking exhausted, damn it.

“Yennefer told me you were planning to go on sabbatical,” Geralt finally blurts out in his typical gruff voice.

Jaskier blinks. Well, he was certainly not expecting that.

“What? I mean, how in the world did Yennefer find out? I never spoke to anyone about this except Vesemir.”

He notes with awe as Geralt shuffles his feet on the hardwood floors, and for a moment, something akin to fondness wells up in Jaskier’s chest before he tamps it down. This is not the time to feel anything remotely positive towards Geralt Rivia when he’s the source of Jaskier’s misery.

“Hmm, well,” he hears Geralt reply. “She told me she heard it from someone who overheard Vesemir’s assistant talking to Tissaia after you left. So it could be anyone.”

Jaskier is unable to hide a groan of frustration. He runs a hand through his already disheveled chestnut locks as he thinks, Great, they’re definitely going to bring this up at the meeting on Friday. Nosy little witches.

“Yes, well, it’s not happening,” Jaskier says with a shrug. He finds himself taking a step, and another, and another, before he’s walking down the corridor to narrow the distance between him and Geralt. And he doesn’t stop when he reaches the other man’s side. “Vesemir said I can’t go on leave right now, so I’ll still be here until the end of term.”

He hears footsteps behind him, and Jaskier inwardly curses when Geralt picks up the pace to follow him.

Just his luck. And why the fuck now?

“Is everything okay?”

Puzzled at the non-sequitur, Jaskier doesn’t break his stride, but he does look over his shoulder to see the closest thing to concern written over Geralt’s face. A part of Jaskier finds it endearing before he swats that thought away with a scowl.

“Everything’s fucking peachy, Geralt,” he answers waspishly before turning his attention ahead of him. “And why are you following me?”

“I’m not, I’m going to the parking lot,” Geralt says simply. This time, Jaskier detects a hint of amusement in his tone, which only serves to piss him off. “Where did you plan on going, then?”

“None of your business,” Jaskier says through gritted teeth. He thrusts open the double doors and quickly descends the stone steps two at a time.

“What’s gotten into you?” he hears Geralt ask, and that’s it.

They reach the parking lot, but instead of marching over to his blue Volkswagen Beetle, Jaskier whirls around to face Geralt. He distantly notes with satisfaction how the other man quickly takes a step back.

“Nothing has gotten into me,” Jaskier says, aggravated beyond comprehension in that moment. “I just wanted some goddamn space, but apparently that’s really fucking hard to come by these days. So for the love of god, take your curiosity and fake sincerity and leave me the fuck alone.”

Geralt’s brows furrow as he meets Jaskier’s glare with perplexity.

“I… it’s not--” he protests haltingly before he shakes his head and tries again. “I only wanted to know--”

Jaskier swiftly cuts him off.

“Well, you lost that right the day you rejected me,” he spits out. Distantly, he knows he’s being too harsh, but Jaskier can’t bring himself to care right now because nothing in his life makes sense anymore. He misses the flicker of emotion that passes over Geralt’s face, too busy turning around to unlock his car. “Just… just leave me alone, Geralt.”

If Geralt responds, Jaskier doesn’t hear it. He starts the ignition and doesn’t bother to warm up the car. He quickly reverses from his parking space and presses his foot on the gas, wanting to get as far away as he can from the one person his soul is aching to be close to.

“Damn, Jask,” Essi says after Jaskier relays to her what happened that night over the phone. “You really tore him a new one, huh?”

“Serves him right,” Jaskier grumbles. He takes another bite of leftover orange chicken as he listens to his friend whistle on the other end. “I know that kind of whistle. That’s your disapproving whistle.”

“Yes, well,” Essi starts. Jaskier frowns, so he pauses the show he’s watching, cutting off Anne mid-tirade as she talks to Gilbert Blythe.

“What is it?”

Essi hesitates for another second before eventually saying, “Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him, though?” Before Jaskier can respond, she continues. “Don’t get me wrong. Geralt should’ve seen it coming and I understand where you’re coming from, Jask. But I don’t know, something doesn’t add up to the confrontation. Like, I feel like your reaction wasn’t justified enough?”

Jaskier sighs.

“What do you want me to say, Essi? He was being nosy and I didn’t like it. We barely exchanged a word in three years and of all the occasions, he chooses now to do so? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either.”

Essi is silent for a while.

“Something’s up with you, Jask.”

Jaskier is lucky that they’re not talking over FaceTime because he would’ve been caught in that moment.

“Nothing’s up with me,” he says with an eye roll. He knows Essi doesn’t believe him, so he adds, “I swear, Essi. I just want a break, and I think not seeing Geralt’s face for a year is the first step.”

Weeks pass, and spring slowly introduces itself in hues of green and yellow. Jaskier is able to breathe a little easier when he notices the distinct lack of one Geralt Rivia. Sure, they still see each other during faculty meetings, but that’s a given. Outside of that weekly assembly, Jaskier doesn’t see neither hide nor hair of the silver-haired Adonis. A part of him sighs in relief because at least his one wish was granted. But another part of him, the bigger part, can’t help but feel melancholy at no longer seeing or bumping into his soulmate.

After all, it’s for Jaskier’s benefit that it has to be this way until the end of term. Less than three months to go and he can finally go on sabbatical. He doesn’t know where he’s going yet, but Jaskier finds the idea of starting in New Zealand to visit Hobbiton very appealing.

He’s going to miss his students, of course. He’s going to miss Essi and Priscilla, and the other faculty members he’s gotten close to over the years. He’s obviously going to miss Mister Fuzzball, his orange tabby purring and constantly requesting for cuddles and treats. He hates to admit it, even to himself, but Jaskier knows he’s going to miss Geralt. Fuck, he misses the man right this moment, and the idea of not seeing his soulmate for a year makes him feel… antsy.

“No, we’re doing this,” Jaskier shakes his head. Mister Fuzzball meows and he looks down to see his cat playfully nipping at his fingers. Jaskier chuckles and cuddles Mister Fuzzball closer to his chest. “You’re right, Mister Fuzzball. This is for the best. Distance is what will heal this rejected bond, that’s for certain. What’s the worst that could happen, right?”

Mister Fuzzball meows and boops his nose to Jaskier’s chin.

Yes. Easier said than done.

It all comes to a head in late May.

Finals week is looming closer so Jaskier and the rest of the faculty at Redania University are working overtime. After a tiring week of preparing exams and preparing his handover to the Literature Department before he goes on sabbatical, Jaskier elects to pamper himself once the weekend rolls around.

He wakes up after eleven on a Saturday morning and decides to have brunch at his favorite pub. He calls Essi, who agrees to meet him at Rosemary & Thyme in half an hour, before he gets up from bed and starts getting ready for a relaxing day outside. Maybe he’ll try and coax Essi to go shopping with him. Retail therapy has worked wonders on his mental state before.

But Jaskier never managed to do any of those things.

Instead of taking his car, he elects to take the subway instead because finding a parking space is always a pain in the arse on the weekend. Jaskier is only a few blocks away from reaching Rosemary & Thyme when he hears the commotion before he sees it.

Several vehicles’s horns start blaring while people from the sidewalks shout in alarm. Jaskier turns at the noise, and he feels his heart leap to his throat when he sees a small blonde girl running to the middle of the road to pick up a round, furry stuffed toy she likely dropped.

“Ciri!”

The voice who yells the child’s name is somewhat familiar, but Jaskier ignores it for the moment because a child is in danger. He doesn’t know how it happens or why, but something clicks in Jaskier that makes him act on instinct. He pushes past the other onlookers staring in horror and sprints to the middle of the busy street.

The small blonde girl -- Ciri -- can’t be more than five years old. She has the furry toy clutched to her chest when Jaskier reaches her side. From his peripheral vision, he glimpses a cab approaching them, and the next several seconds happen in slow-motion.

The cab’s brakes screech as the driver spots them a little too late.

The blonde girl’s emerald eyes lock on Jaskier, a look of awe and confusion on her freckled gaze.

Around them, several bystanders are either frozen on the spot or shouting in alarm.

Geralt stands at the curb with Yennefer and a few other burly men, a look of undisguised terror on his handsome face.

It feels like a lifetime and not, and without giving it much thought, Jaskier finds himself lifting the blonde girl and tossing her in the arms of the one cyclist who had the presence of mind to block the other cars who managed to brake on time.

Except for one.

One second, he has both feet on the ground, and the next Jaskier finds himself on his back on the concrete floor. He feels something sticky trickle down his face, and when he tries to speak, he ends up coughing on the metallic taste of blood.

Oh. So he got hit by the cab, then.

A cacophony of noise permeates through his muddled senses. Sirens and screams and several pairs of feet thudding closer and closer. Jaskier tries to blink but his vision is blurring.

“Jaskier, Jaskier,” the familiar voice says, sounding panicked and choked to his ears. Do they know him? “Jaskier, oh fuck. Hold on, Jaskier. Help’s on the way.”

“Eskel, take Ciri from the cyclist,” another familiar voice filters through. “Geralt, don’t move him. We don’t know what injuries he’s sustained.”

“What injuries-?!” an unfamiliar growly voice interrupts. “He got hit by a fucking car! He’s definitely broken some bones.”

“Lambert, be useful and call a fucking ambulance,” the familiar voice growls back. There’s a gurgling sound before the familiar voice, Geralt, speaks up. “Ssh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“Ngh,” Jaskier slurs. He tries to keep his eyes open but it’s becoming more difficult by the second. “G’rlt.”

“Keep your eyes on me,” the voice repeats, and they sound choked with emotion. “Jask, stay with me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please stay with me.”

It’s the last thing Jaskier hears before he loses consciousness.

2 weeks later

“You wonder what he’s thinking when he shivers like that. What can you tell me? What could you possibly tell me? Sure, it’s good to feel things, and if it hurts, we’re doing it to ourselves--”

Someone knocks on the door before it opens, and Jaskier looks up to see the nurse, Jackie, standing on the threshold. Essi, who’s been reading to him his favorite poems for the past hour, stops to look up as well.

Jackie smiles at them before she addresses Jaskier, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, but you have another visitor, Jaskier.”

A glance at the clock nailed to the wall in front of him alerts Jaskier that it’s already past three o’clock.

“Shit,” Essi curses beside him, clearly taking note of the time as well. “Sorry, Jask. I lost track of the time. I need to go.”

She looks down apologetically at Jaskier, who shakes his head in understanding and smiles warmly at her.

“Not at all, Essi,” he says, voice still a bit hoarse. “Thank you for visiting me again. I’m sorry for keeping you.”

Essi pockets her phone and slings her messenger bag across her shoulders before leaning down to brush a hand through Jaskier’s unwashed hair and planting a soft kiss on his bandaged forehead.

“Don’t apologize, silly,” she admonishes slightly once she straightens. She smiles crookedly at Jaskier and brushes her fingers on his face, lightly tracing the faint bruises on his cheek. “I’ll drop by again tomorrow before my afternoon lecture. Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No, I’m good. But please feed Mister Fuzzball, and cuddle him for me, won’t you?”

Essi rolls her eyes good-naturedly but nods her head. “Of course, Jask. I got Mister Fuzzies under control.”

“It’s Mister Fuzzball!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Love you. Take it easy and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

It’s Jaskier’s turn to roll his eyes, but he carefully waves his bandaged wrist at his best friend’s departing figure.

“Love you too. See you later, Daven.”

When Essi disappears around the corner, less than thirty seconds pass before Jaskier’s next visitors come in.

“Jaskier! You’re awake!” a small, blonde girl greets as she dashes inside the room. She stops at the very last second when she reaches Jaskier’s side, careful with his injuries as she climbs up the bed to plant a sloppy but very welcome kiss on his bruised cheek.

“Of course I’m awake, darling,” Jaskier answers with a dimpled grin as he playfully boops Ciri’s nose, causing the child to giggle. “I would never pass up the chance to miss your visit.”

“How are you? Did you finish watching Frozen yesterday? You fell asleep and Papa said I shouldn’t disturb you.”

“I’m feeling better now that you’re here. And no, I didn’t finish Frozen yesterday but I already watched it before so it’s okay. What movie do you want to watch next, hm?”

Jaskier chuckles as he listens to Ciri prattle on for the next few minutes about her favorite scenes in Frozen and how she wants to watch an old Disney film called The Emperor’s New Groove. Jaskier looks up to see the second visitor who silently trailed after the energetic child, making sure to shut the door behind him to give them privacy.

Geralt is already seated on the chair Essi just vacated, the silver-haired man looking at Ciri and Jaskier with undisguised fondness. If someone told Jaskier that he would be the object of Geralt Rivia’s shameless googly eyes, he would tell them where to shove it. But as it is, since his unfortunate accident two weeks ago, it’s like the man did a 180-degree. It’s probably mean of Jaskier to think it, but he can’t help it. If he hadn’t saved Geralt’s daughter, they likely wouldn’t be in this situation.

But Jaskier won’t have it any other way. Daughter or not, Jaskier doesn’t regret saving Ciri. Not at all. He may only know the child for less than a month, but he already loves her like his own, and that notion should terrify Jaskier. It really should, but for some unfathomable reason, it feels completely natural. As easy as breathing.

Although he and Geralt still have so much to talk about - goodness, there’s so much baggage between them that needs to be unpacked and addressed - Jaskier finds that he doesn’t mind spending this time getting to know his soulmate’s family. Aside from Ciri, he’s already met Lambert and Eskel, Geralt’s foster brothers who also drop in to visit him a few times a week. Jaskier likes them, likes their crude sense of humor and enjoys their company even when he doesn’t feel like chatting.

Then there’s Vesemir, who happens to be Geralt’s uncle or whatever, and isn’t that a fucking shock? Jaskier initially didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused when the president of the university he works at visited him to wish him a speedy recovery. In the end, Jaskier takes it in stride and thanks the old man for his well wishes.

How has this become his life now? Will wonders never cease?

“- and Uncle Lambert said I should watch Monsters, Inc. next after The Emperor’s New Groove because he said I remind him of Boo,” Ciri continues to chatter, the adorable five-year-old making herself at home by Jaskier’s uninjured side.

Jaskier listens to her attentively, while looking up every now and then at Geralt, the Anthropology professor currently balancing his laptop on his knees as he slowly types.

It’s the sixth, or probably seventh, time that Jaskier looks up when he meets Geralt’s golden eyes already trained on him. There’s that familiar jolt that runs down his spine when their gazes meet, and Jaskier raises a brow at him.

Geralt’s lips quirk upwards into a semblance of a smile, and Jaskier feels his heart stutter against his chest when his soulmate quietly mouths, “Hi.”

Jaskier tries to fight off a smile but fails rather dismally.

“Hi,” he mouths back before shifting his attention back to Ciri, who’s now chattering about her morning at the daycare.

All at once, it feels like the end and beginning of something new.

“Gods, I miss playing my lute,” Jaskier grumbles to himself a few nights later.

Ciri is fast asleep beside him, the adorable child already drooling on his shoulder but he doesn’t mind it in the least bit. They watched two movies and had dinner plus dessert, so Jaskier feels a little spoiled.

“Your what now?” Geralt asks, and Jaskier nearly jolts Ciri awake, almost forgetting that there’s another occupant in the room.

He recovers quickly and leans back against the fluffy pillows.

“My lute,” he repeats. At Geralt’s blank stare, Jaskier huffs out a laugh and continues. “It’s a medieval instrument that bards used to play. I learned to play it back in uni - I minored in Music, by the way - and I just… I just love it. And I miss playing it.”

“Oh,” Geralt says after a while. “I never knew you played.”

If Jaskier’s smile comes off a little bitter, Geralt thankfully doesn’t mention it.

“We both don’t know a lot about each other, I’m afraid,” he says.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier snorts. “Well, except for that.”

Geralt doesn’t say anything after that, so they spend the next several minutes in silence. It’s comfortable, for a change, and Jaskier doesn’t mind breaking the quiet with inane chatter. While he enjoyed watching children’s movies with Ciri, he’s easily exhausted, still in the midst of recuperating from his extensive list of injuries. A major head concussion is no joke, but at least Jaskier can sleep peacefully these days.

He’s staring aimlessly at the ceiling and thinking about what he’ll do first when he’s eventually discharged when he hears Geralt clear his throat.

“I was afraid,” Geralt starts when Jaskier turns his head to meet the older man’s eyes. At Jaskier’s puzzled frown, Geralt clears his throat again and explains. “That day, when you told me we were soulmates… I panicked.”

Oh, so they’re finally going to talk about it now. While his soulmate’s daughter is lightly snoring and drooling on Jaskier?

Okay, then.

“That’s some way to panic,” Jaskier teases, but it falls a little flat. He notices Geralt wince, and Jaskier inwardly curses himself because it’s not the time to make jokes right now. “I’m sorry,” he quickly adds. “I didn’t mean it like that. Please continue, I won’t interrupt.”

Geralt blinks, looking surprised. Jaskier smiles at him and decides to wait patiently for him to speak. It doesn’t take long.

“I don’t have a good track record when it comes to relationships,” Geralt begins, his voice quiet and gruff so as not to wake his daughter. He’s not meeting Jaskier’s gaze. Instead, it’s trained on Jaskier’s fingers that’s carefully playing with Ciri’s blonde curls. “Ask my brothers, ask Yennefer, and they’ll gladly tell you of my failed relationships. Don’t know why, but I was more prone to burning bridges than maintaining them.”

Jaskier feels his heart break, and it takes every ounce in him to not reach out to take Geralt’s hand in his because he’s afraid the other man won’t welcome his touch. So Jaskier bites his cheek and keeps silent, and keeps his hands to himself. He continues to wait in silence, willing to be patient for Geralt because it’s clear to see now that his soulmate is struggling with his words.

And he knows better now, too, that Geralt needs this moment to unpack everything that’s been left unsaid between them all these years.

“When Ciri was born, I felt like I finally had purpose,” Geralt continues. “Her mother didn’t want anything to do with her, so Fiona left her in my care and never looked back. I was fine with it, didn’t mind taking on the responsibility of caring for Ciri. She’s my kid, after all, and it’s an honor to raise her. I thought, since I hadn’t met my soulmate at the time, that everything would be fine. And it was fine for a couple of years. Then I met you.”

At this, Geralt finally looks up from studying Jaskier’s deft fingers to meet his cornflower blue eyes. There’s that oh-so familiar jolt, and for the first time in three years, Jaskier allows himself to bask in the remarkable feeling.

“Then you met me,” Jaskier repeats with a small, sad smile. “And I went and made a fool of myself.”

Geralt emphatically shakes his head.

“No, you didn’t,” he says firmly. “I was an idiot.”

“No, I was the idiot.”

“Let’s agree to disagree, then.”

“In retrospect, I probably made things difficult for you,” Jaskier says with a half-shrug. “So I’m really sorry, Geralt. I think I was pretty tactless with my approach.”

Geralt smiles ruefully at him. “My reaction is what caused us to have a falling out.”

Jaskier opens his mouth then closes it with a thoughtful hum.

“I suppose,” he says, then he glances up from studying Ciri’s peaceful face to look at Geralt with a slight tilt of his head. “Why did you react that way, though? I thought… well, I thought you hated me. Hated the concept of soulmates.”

“I could never hate you,” Geralt cuts him off with a sincere look.

Jaskier gapes at him for a few seconds.

“I, well. You said--”

Geralt swiftly interrupts him once again.

“I remember,” he discloses with a grimace. “I’m not proud of it. I was selfish, Jaskier, and I’m sorry.”

“Alright,” Jaskier says with a patient smile. “You’re sorry, but for what? Telling me the truth? Rejecting me?”

His voice trails off when Geralt shakes his head.

“No, no. None of that.” At Jaskier’s puzzled frown, Geralt sighs and rubs the back of his head. “When I met you, I was terrified at how you made me feel. I felt… wrong-footed, I think? And when you told me we were soulmates, it just made the whole thing more… threatening.”

“Threatening how?”

“Ciri is my number one priority. Sure, she has Vesemir and her uncles, and Yennefer, but I’m her dad. My purpose, my… everything I do is for her, Jask, and you have to understand. Please understand, that when you told me we were soulmates, it felt like everything I worked so hard for would come crashing down. Because here was another person who… matters to me more than I could understand at the time. I was… scared… that if I acknowledged our bond, and accepted you, that it would make Ciri feel like I wasn’t prioritizing her. That she was no longer my number one.”

“Because then you’d have to focus all your time and energy on me,” Jaskier finishes, finally understanding where Geralt is coming from. “And on us. Because it takes a couple of months to solidify the bond.”

“Yes.”

Geralt nods, and he looks like there’s a huge weight that’s lifted from his shoulders. Like he’s been carrying this weight for the past three years or so.

Jaskier breathes in and slowly exhales through his nose. He, too, feels like there’s a huge weight that’s been lifted off his chest. Like he and Geralt are finally on the same page.

Well, almost.

“Geralt, I want you to listen to me closely because I’m going to say this once.”

Geralt nods, golden eyes intense as he waits for Jaskier to continue. This time, Jaskier takes a chance and reaches for his soulmates clasped hands. To his immense surprise, Geralt’s fingers curl around his, as if they’ve been doing it for years instead of for the first time.

“I will never fight for your attention, because Ciri will always be your number one. I’m confident in saying that because, believe it or not, I absolutely adore your daughter to bits.” They exchange smiles at that, each turning to look at Ciri sleeping peacefully between them. Jaskier clears his throat and continues. “I’m sorry that you felt like you had to choose between us. If that was the impression I gave you, then I beg for your forgiveness because it honestly wasn’t. I promise you, Geralt. I promise you that Ciri will also be my top priority.” He shakes his head when Geralt is about to open his mouth. “No. If we’re doing this, Geralt, then I want to be involved. I want to be a part of Ciri’s life, not just yours.”

“I can’t ask you of this, Jaskier,” Geralt professes.

“I know you’re not asking,” Jaskier says with a good-natured eye roll. “That’s why I’m offering, silly.”

Something in Geralt breaks because his shoulders sag. He stares unbelievably softly at Jaskier, golden eyes tender with emotion.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, awe in his tone.

Thinking that he literally has nothing left to lose, Jaskier moves his hand from grasping Geralt’s to cupping his cheek. He feels his soulmate lean into his touch, and Jaskier knows right then and there that they’re going to be alright.

“We both have baggage,” Jaskier tells him once their gazes lock once more. “And we still have so much to talk about. But I’m in this for the long haul, Geralt. You’re my other half, and I’m yours.”

“I’m yours,” Geralt repeats, and he sounds like he’s starting to believe it.

When he leans over to press soft, dry lips to Jaskier’s slightly chapped ones, Jaskier lets himself believe it, too.

They’re going to be alright.

#jaskierswolf #birthday fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #geralt of rivia #jaskier #professor jaskier #the witcher au #will cross-post on AO3 in a bit #my writing #dapperyklutz

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parkerslatte · 3 years

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Not The Only One

MASTERLIST

Reggie Peters x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.2k+

Summary: (Y/N) died back in the 80s. She had no idea about other ghosts until she bumped into one.

*****

I lose track of time very easily. One minute it was 1983 and then the next it’s 2020. Some people may think how that’s possible. To put it simply - I’m a ghost. I died thirty-seven years ago while I was seventeen. It wasn’t an epic death either, just a car crash.

I always thought that when you died, you went to heaven or hell, but that wasn’t the case. I’ve been wandering around for nearly four decades. There were some perks to being dead though. Like the fact that I could go anywhere I wanted. In the thirty seven years I’ve been dead, I travelled the world. I’ve seen practically everything there is to see. Travelling was one thing I always wanted to do when I was alive - so I thought, why not do it when I’m dead.

Although I made the most out of being dead, I always wanted someone to talk to. I normally found myself sitting with different people pretending that I was a part of their conversation. I’ve been alone for thirty-seven years, all I longed for was conversation.

I was sitting at a table in a cafe that two other girls were occupying. They were just talking about school and other things that teenage girls like to talk about these days. To say I missed school was an understatement. I wasn’t the best student by any means but I got to see my friends and talk to people everyday so that’s what made me enjoy it. I just can’t believe I died only a week before my graduation.

The two girls got up from the table and I was left alone once again. I thought of getting up and following them but decided against it. I slouched in my chair and picked at my nail polish that was somehow still on my nails since 1983. In my peripheral vision, someone sat down in the chair next to mine. I didn’t look up to see who sat down, it was just another person I couldn’t make conversation with.

The person sitting in the chair didn’t order anything, they just sat there in silence watching everyone. Weird. It wasn’t until two other people sat down that I looked up. Like always the two other people didn’t acknowledge me. But they didn’t acknowledge the other person either. I looked to my right at the person who sat down a few minutes earlier. He had dark hair, he had a leather jacket on and a red flannel shirt tied around his waist.

Like he could sense me looking at him, he turned his head to look at me. I didn’t react because I knew that he wasn’t looking at me. He couldn’t see me. He continued to look at me before waving a hand in front of my face. I recoiled as his hand nearly hit me in the face. The boy’s eyes widened before a happy expression washed over his features.

“You can see me?” He asked.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Wait, you can see me? You’re a ghost?”

“Yeah!” He said happily, “You are too.”

I nodded my head slowly, trying to process everything. There were other ghosts. I thought I was the only one.

The boy suddenly looked a little concerned, “Are you okay? You suddenly don’t look too good.”

“I-I thought I was the only one…” I trail off.

“What the only ghost?” The boy asked and I nod, “No, no, there are plenty of other ghosts. Like my band mates Luke and Alex, they’re ghosts as well. There’s also Alex’s boyfriend Willie. There was also one ghost named Caleb - but we don’t talk about him-” The boy cut himself off when he noticed my expression, “You really didn’t know there were other ghosts?”

I shake my head slowly, still trying to process the fact that I was talking to someone.

“How long have you been alone?” The boy asked.

“Thirty-seven years,” I respond, “I died in 1983.”

We fall back into silence. I wanted to speak, I hadn’t spoken to anyone in a very long time. I just didn’t know what to say. I was lucky enough that the boy started speaking.

“So, what’s your name?”

“(Y/N).” I reply. It felt weird to say my name, I hadn’t said it out loud in a while.

“I’m Reggie,” He said with a sweet smile on his face causing me to give him a small smile back, “So, how did you die? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, just trying to make conversation.”

“No, it’s fine. I died in a car crash,” I responded, “How did you die?”

“I ate a bad hot dog.” Reggie said.

I tried to stop myself from laughing but I couldn’t, “Hang on, you died from eating a bad hot dog?”

“Yeah, I did.” Reggie said chuckling alone with me.

I stopped laughing and looked at Reggie, “You said band mates? You were in a band?”

“Yeah, when we were alive, we were in a band called Sunset Curve. I play bass.” Reggie explained.

“I bet you miss playing music.” I say.

“Oh, we still play music,” Reggie said, “We met this girl called Julie, she can see us and she can make us visible when we play and-”

“Hang on a sec, a person can see you? An actual living and breathing person can see you?” I cut him off.

“Yeah, we were freaked out by it at first as well.” Reggie says.

“This day just keeps getting weirder and it’s not even half way done yet.” I mumble to myself.

“So what did you do before you died?” Reggie asks, changing the subject.

“Um, I didn’t really do much, I was a week away from my graduation when I died though, so that sucked,” I explain, “I’ve done more dead than I ever did alive.”

“What have you done since you died?” Reggie asks.

“Um, I travelled the world. I wanted to do that once I graduated but obviously I never got the chance, so I did it while I was dead. Much cheaper.” I joke.

Reggie chuckled, “Where did you go?”

“Everywhere. I don’t remember when I started to go travelling but I remember stopping around 2013. I’ve mainly been wandering around here since, occasionally I take a trip to some other country, but mainly I’m here. I lose track of time fast. I swear last year was only 2018.”

“That must’ve been lonely, being on your own.” Reggie said.

“It was. But I got through it. I would mainly walk around with other people pretending to be their friend you know. Made it more bearable,” I explain, “You’re the first person I’ve spoken too since my mother back in ‘83.”

Reggie suddenly perked up, “Do you wanna meet my band mates? You say that I’m the only person you’ve spoken too, but why not add two more to that list. Maybe even Julie can see you.”

I suddenly feel anxious, I know that I want to talk to other people, but the actual prospect of meeting them made me feel nervous, “I don’t know.”

“Come on (Y/N), it’ll be fine, they’re nice people.”

I thought it over for a moment before slowly nodding my head, “Okay then, Reggie. Let’s go.”

Reggie smiled and held his arm out to me before we both poofed out of the cafe.

#reggie x reader #reggie jatp x reader #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms imagine #reggie peters

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the-void-i-scream-into · 3 years

Text

White Tulips - a JunJin fanfic 1/3

Full Story: Part 2, Part 3

Hello everyone! I hope everyone who is reading this is healthy and safe. This is a fanfic about my favorite characters, Kang Sujin and Han Seojun. I really love these two together so I wrote what I had hoped to see in True Beauty. This is my first time writing fanfiction so its not that good. But I hope you still enjoy it. I didn’t change anything from True Beauty, rather continued the events from the ending with a focus on giving Sujin the redemption arc she so rightly deserved.

I really have to thank everyone on the shooters gc, especially @prodmina, for being so amazing and awesome. Never before have I come accross such amazing, wonderful, open and friendly group of people. I’m not that active on the chat, but I am so grateful it exists. Thank you to everyone on there. This is dedicated to you all.

Pairing: Kang Sujin x Han Seojun

Romantic Trope: Haters to friends to lovers

Word Count: 5.9k

Rating: T

PART 1

If you asked Han Seojun why he loved Lim Jukyung, he wouldn’t be able to answer. His feelings for her overwhelmed him to the point of inarticulation. His heart still skipped a beat every time he saw her at dinner with their group. He still found himself staring at her from time to time, unable to look away from her beauty. He even wrote songs about her, his only form of expressing his love for her.

He still thought of her in every free minute he had between practice, performance and recording sessions. When he couldn’t see her, he would watch her make-up tutorials online. He was proud of how far she had come with her career as a make-up artist. Her popularity was a source of delight for him. It was only appropriate that everyone see how amazing she was.

The only problem was, Lim Jukyung didn’t belong to him. She belonged to Lee Suho, his best friend.

Seojun was happy for the two of them. They were the best people he knew and even he had to acknowledge that they belonged together. Which was why, having these feelings were burdensome for Seojun.

It was burdensome, seeing them all lovey-dovey with each other and talking about their lives together. Normally Seojun would have faked a smile, but when they were all together in a group he scowled without reserve. He got away with it because right beside Suho and Jukyung, sat Taehoon and Suah who were the kind of cheesy couple that made anyone barf.

In fact, just the thought of Suah and Taehoon fawning over each other made him cringe. Even now as he walked into the special private room they frequented for their gatherings—private due to Seojun’s and Jukyung’s popularity—Seojun was pushing back his gag reflex at the squealing he could hear outside.

He scolded them as he entered the room. “Guys! I can hear you all the way from the front entrance. Why are you always so—” He stopped in his tracks. There, between a giggling Jukyung and beaming Suah sat the worst person Seojun had ever known.

Her.

He had heard peripherally about how she had changed now, having reformed as a charity worker. She had apparently apologized to Jukyung about the shitty things she had done before. As if an apology could change anything.

Han Seojun knew Jukyung had forgiven Kang Sujin. That woman had even attended Heekyung’s wedding. But Seojun didn’t understand why she had to invade their special gatherings.

The room had fallen silent. Everyone awkwardly stared at Seojun, then Sujin.

“It’s been a while, Han Seojun.” She said with a polite smile. Her voice deeper than most girls’. He always hated her voice and its lack of femininity.

Ya Han Seojun, are you a gangster?!

Seojun pushed the memory away.

“Ah-aah! Han Seojun. You must be surprised.” Jukyung said with forced cheerfulness. “I invited Sujin to join us today.

Seojun merely flicked a cynical brow at Jukyung and took his usual seat besides Suho. Suah and Jukyung nervously returned to their conversation.

The uncomfortable air in the room subsided after a while and everyone chatted cheerfully with each other. Everyone except Han Seojun.

“I saw your performance on TV. You looked good.” Suho told Seojun.

“Why the hell have you invited Kang Soojin?” Seojun asked Suho in a hushed tone.

“She’s a friend, of course she’s invited.”

“Why are you friends with her again?”

“Seojun, its fine.”

Seojun opened his mouth to protest but before he could, Sujin interrupted him.

“Ya, Han Seojun. I saw your performance on TV. I didn’t know you could sing so well.” She said, not sounding too impressed. “You were great.”

It was a peace offering. A way to start off on the right foot.

Seojun gave a sarcastic smile and tilted his head. “You should have known I was that good. I performed in school, didn’t I?”

“Oh right. I guess I didn’t really pay attention before.”

“You were too busy giving all of your attention to Lee Suho. I don’t expect you to have noticed anybody else.”

This time, the silence in the room was palpable. Taehoon audibly gulped. The only person unfazed was Sujin.

“Yeah. I was obsessed with Suho.” She said simply. “But now that I look back,” she made a frame with her forefingers and thumbs, “I think what the hell does Jukyung see in you?”

“Ya!” Suho protested so seriously that Jukyung giggled, breaking the tension.

“Honestly Jukyung. You’d be better off with me as your boyfriend.” Suah and Taehoon joined the laughter.

“Ya Kang Sujin, you stay away from my girlfriend.” Suho protested, pouting.

“You’re too serious, Lee Suho. Jukyung needs someone more fun.”

“At least I don’t go around kicking people in the face.”

“You wouldn’t be able to do it, even if you tried.”

“I know jujitsu, you know.”

“Okay, okay!” Jukyung said. And that was it, the friends were back to normal.

Seojun kept out of the conversations, eating and drinking on his own. No one dared to bother him lest he say something else to ruin the mood.

Han Seojun didn’t care to maintain a good mood. He had no tolerance for people like Kang Sujin; people who were bullies. And especially not when said bully had hurt someone he cared about very deeply. He didn’t buy this act that Sujin was pulling. He knew, that people never changed.

The conversation turned to Sujin and her charity work overseas. She talked animatedly about the children she and her non-profit group worked for. It made Seojun’s blood boil, how she was using a noble cause as a front for her true cold-hearted personality. That angel bullshit may work on others, but it would not work on Seojun.

He kept a close eye on her the entire time, almost glaring to the point where Suho had to poke him with his elbow to get him to look away. But Suho was blind, he should have seen how Sujin’s face gave the barest of glances of pain when he and Jukyung kissed each other and pulled each other’s cheeks and talked about living together.

“Oh, you guys share an apartment?” No one else noticed the high-pitchiness of Sujin’s voice when she asked this. No one, expect Seojun.

And then there was the stolen glances at Suho. That was the final nail in the coffin. Seojun was convinced that Sujin was pretending to be over Suho. She was still in love with him. And that was a problem.

“What’s wrong with you?” Suho confronted Seojun outside, when it was just the two of them waiting for the others to leave.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know the kind of person Kang Sujin is? How can you let her in again?”

“Calm down, Seojun-ah. That was all years ago.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she hurt Jukyung.”

“She’s not a bad person. I know her better than you. She made a mistake.”

“She knew what she was doing.”

“Haven’t you ever made a mistake before? Or are you telling me that blaming me for Seyeon’s death was the right thing to do?”

Seojun was quiet.

“Seojun-ah, don’t take this the wrong way. You have a tendency to judge too quickly, and misunderstand. If you really hate her that much then talk to her and ask her about her reasons. Don’t just go on assuming something is the way it is because you think so.”

Seojun grit his teeth.

“Shall we go?” Jukyung came up from behind, taking Suho’s arm. The rest of the group was behind her.

“Yeah. Bye everyone. See you next time.” The couple waved as others waved back. “Seojun, I hope you’ll think about what I said.”

Seojun just nodded and waved too. He watched Jukyung and Suho disappear into the crowd on the street.

The rest of them said their goodbyes and went their way, Seojun leaving after giving Sujin a distrusting side-eye.

ii.

I don’t want to be a fool like you and be just friends, only to like him one sidedly.

It had been such a long time ago when Kang Sujin had said this to Han Seojun, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. That and a couple of other memories that played in his mind, causing whiplash.

Ya Han Seojun, are you a gangster?!

Those words especially felt like a slap on his face. He could actually feel his cheek burning at the image of Kang Sujin standing there in her uniform, telling off him and his boys about bullying Jukyung.

He had respected her back then, for having the guys to stand up for her friend. Even though she had been all haughty like some arrogant princess and thought him a fool, he had still respected her. He had never expected her to turn out to be such a vile person.

Am I handsome?

Yes.

No, no, no. That was one incident he refused to remember. It meant nothing. Only a source of surprise at her bluntness, nothing more.

“Seojun, we’re going to hit the showers now, are you done?”

Seojun didn’t hear Chorong as he ran on the treadmill. His body was in the gym but his mind as fully occupied by Kang Sujin, as it had been for the past week.

“Han Seojun, are you listening?”

She must have had a reason for suddenly showing up out of the blue. She had disappeared completely when the truth about her had been revealed online. Obviously, she ran away like a coward. If she was back now, it must be because she wanted something. Kang Sujin could be very calculating and manipulative.

Was it because of Lee Suho?

“Han Seojun!”

Chorong’s voice snapped Seojun out of his thoughts and he fell backward from his treadmill.

“OOOH! Are you okay?”

“YA! Why would you do that?!” Seojun snapped at Chorong as he got back up. He checked himself for bruises though his dignity caught the worst of it.

“Ah-nee, I called you so many times. You were totally checked out.” Chorong explained.

“Does that make sense? Why would I be checked out?”

“Well… you have been out of it this past week. Has something been bothering you?”

Something had been bothering him; something with silky, black hair and long legs.

“What? You met Kang Sujin?” His entire posse sounded as he told them about her return. Seojun put a finger in his ears as he was bombarded with questions.

“Did she apologize to Jukyung? Are they friends now?”

“Did she tell where she was all that time?”

“Is she still pretty?”

“Is she single?”

“What is she doing these days?”

Seojun ignored all of these useless inquiries.

“Hey! Did you al forget the kind of person she is? How could you ask if she is still pretty?”

“She must be. I bet she’s still the same.”

“She was never pretty.” Seojun declared. “I can never understand what people see in her.”

“That’s because you only have eyes for one.” One of them teased and the rest of them Ooh-ed like school girls.

“Ah, shikkeureo! Shut up!” Chorong said in defense of Seojun. Out of everyone, Chorong understood best how much Seojun still pined for Jukyung. “So, what exactly is bothering you about Kang Sujin?”

“I don’t trust her. Especially around Jukyung.”

“Wae? Do you think she might still be after Lee Suho.”

“Yes. At least I suspect so. I’m not sure what game she’s playing at but I’m not buying this angel persona she has on.”

“So? You can’t exactly stop Jukyung from choosing to be friends with her.”

“I feel I can convince Jukyung if I talk to her.”

“She might just tell you to try to get along with Sujin.”

This was true. Jukyung was too nice and trusting with people. Seojun thought long and hard.

“I’ll have to protect her. I’ll have to keep Kang Sujin away from Jukyung.”

iii.

He had been on his way to the studio, casually riding by on his bike, when he saw her. She was in some blue vest, clearly a uniform of some sort. She was handing out fliers to people who passed by, smiling widely with that fake innocent look she had perfected. What a crock of shit. Seojun swerved around and parked his bike, then sauntered up to her with an amused expression.

She lit up when she saw him approach, waving animatedly at him. Her happiness upon seeing him surprised him so much that he stumbled and almost fell. He played it off as nothing, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

“Ya Han Seojun, gimme your autograph.” She grinned as she pushed forward a petition to help kids in Africa.

Seojun didn’t take it. “What are you doing?” He asked rhetorically, looking at the pictures of children she had set up for people to see along with information as to how to donate. So she’s using these poor kids for her own selfish reasons?

“Huh?” Sujin hadn’t missed his tone. “Just sign it, its for a good cause. And being charitable will help your image too, no?” She tried appealing to his logic.

“Ooooh,” Seojun mocked, “So you keep up the pretense even when you’re not around Jukyung? Isn’t this a too much, Kang Sujin?”

Sujin’s smile dropped into a snarl, “What?”

“I’m on to you, Kang Sujin.” Seojun got up in her face. “Ah-nee, if you’re going to pretend to be all reformed then you shouldn’t make it too obvious. Charity work is a little too on the nose, don’t you think?”

Sujin stared at him in shock and anger. Seojun suddenly recalled how well Sujin had kicked those thugs who had kidnapped Jukyung back in high school and gulped. He hoped she wouldn’t try to kill him in public but it was too late to take back what he said.

“Han Seojun…” Sujin said through clenched teeth and Seojun prepared for the worst.

Ya Han Seojun! Are you a gangster?!

But she said nothing. Instead she calmed herself, exhaling through her mouth.

“I probably deserve that.” She said, not backing away or cowering from him. She pushed the flier in his chest, “But don’t make these kids suffer because of your anger towards me. They could really use the support.”

Seojun looked down at the flier. He couldn’t sign anything without the consent of his agency. So he folded it up and pocketed it. Along with his pride. He could put his ego aside for a good cause.

“These kids deserve a better person representing them than you.” Seojun said. Sujin pressed her lips tightly.

“Aren’t you being a little too harsh? I’m not the same person anymore. And Jukyung has—”

“You may have everyone else fooled, Kang Sujin. But I will always remember what you are.” With that, Seojun walked away, his hand twitching.

iv.

The next time they all met up, Seojun made sure to sit between Sujin and Jukyung. He felt uncomfortable because he had to bump shoulders with her, but he would bear it for Jukyung.

Suho gave Seojun a warning look when they all sat down. Don’t do anything excessive, the look said. Seojun ignored it.

He could feel Sujin’s stiffness beside him. This was uncomfortable for her too. Good. If I’m suffering, she should too. But she kept up her polite façade, smiling like nothing bothered her.

Seojun made sure to keep her isolated from Jukyung. He didn’t let her speak to Jukyung, didn’t let her participate in the competitions. He even didn’t let her eat properly.

“Jukyung-ah, did I show you my pictures from—”

“Jukyung-ah, has your sister told you about the tour we’re planning?” Seojun interrupted.

Jukyung would be at a loss as to who to answer and Seojun would move forward, blocking Sujin.

When Suho or Jukyung tried to ask Sujin what she wanted to eat first, he took the first dish he saw and shoved it in front of her.

“Here, have this Kang Sujin.”

“I don’t want it.” She said with an unamused look.

“Take it.” He ordered in his intimidating baritone.

They glared at each other , Sujin’s face twitching with annoyance. Seojun mentally dared her to snap at him but she swallowed her pride, quite literally, and put on a fake smile.

“Thanks.” She said dryly.

By the end of dinner, Han Seojun had successfully managed to annoy Kang Sujin. Her fake persona was slipping as she clenched her jaw and exhaled excessively to keep her temper in check. Seojun guessed he would have her true personality on display by the end of the night.

“Han Seojun what are you doing?” Suho confronted him outside.

“What did I do?” Seojun feigned ignorance.

“You need to sto—”

“Han Seojun. Let’s talk.” Sujin strode up to them from behind, her face set with determination.

“No.” Seojun said.

“I wasn’t asking. I was telling.” And there she was, the old Sujin. Gone was the politeness and friendly demeanor. She stared boldly at him, almost challenging him to refuse again.

“Seojun-ah, just hear her out.” Jukyung broke through their staring match. Seojun could never say no to her. But he didn’t get a chance to say yes either.

Sujin simply commanded, “Follow me,” and grabbed the collar of his jacket, dragging him away.

“Ya! What are you doing?!” But Kang Sujin was stronger than she looked and Seojun found himself being pulled against his will.

The rest of them could only stare.

“Do you think they’ll be alright?” Suah asked, concerned.

“Nope. I’m certain they’ll kill each other.” Suho replied nonchalantly.

“My money’s on Sujin.” Taehoon and Suah said together.

“You’re on.” Suho replied.

iv.

“Are you crazy? How could you grab me like that?” Seojun smoothened the collar of his coat that Sujin had bunched up in her fist. She had let go when he had said that he would follow enough times. They walked together, Sujin going ahead of him. He quickly put on his mask. “How can a girl be so strong?” He said under his breath. Then spoke aloud, “Is this any way to treat an idol?”

Sujin suddenly turned on her heels, stopping Seojun in his tracks. She was a little too close for comfort and looked intimidated with that unfiltered anger on her face. “Just shut up and follow.”

Seojun put his hands on his hips, tilting his head. He was unimpressed by her tough attitude. He gestured forward with his chin, “Then move.”

He followed her, keeping a small distance between them. She marched forward, taking long strides with her long, long legs. She looked like a general going to war.

“She calls me a thug. She should look at herself.” He mumbled.

Sujin led them to a secluded pocha, street food vendor with small plastic seats housed inside a plastic tent. Seojun adjusted his mask.

“Relax, no one here is going to recognize you.” Sujin said, sensing his discomfort. Indeed, when Seojun looked around, all he saw were hold ahjusshis getting drunk and babbling nonsense. None of them seemed like his fans.

Still, Sujin led them in a corner table and sat where he was hidden by her. She ordered two bottles of soju and side dishes for him. He simply watched with his arms crossed.

The silence between them was awkward and heavy. Neither of them said anything. Han Seojun openly stared at Sujin. Kang Sujin looked everywhere but him. The lady brought them their order. Sujin effortlessly opened a bottle and moved to fill his glass. Seojun put his hand on top of his glass to stop her.

With a sigh, he took the bottle from her and poured for himself. She followed suit. They both took a shot.

Sujin sat up straight, shuffling in her seat. She first looked down at her hands in her lap, then looked up, straight in his eyes.

“Mianhae.” It took him by surprise. More than that, the regret on her face moved him. If only by an inch. “I’m sorry, Han Seojun. What I did back then… I was going through some personal issues, and I took it out on Jukyung. But even that is not a good enough excuse. I shouldn’t have done what I did. And even what I said to you… even after you gave me a chance to delete the video… I’m sorry.” She gulped and Seojun mirrored her. “You were right. I was only destroying myself. I should have seen that. But I have changed now. I’m not the same person. I know you’re important to Jukyung. So I hope we can get along from now on.”

Seojun took another shot. He took a minute, considering her words.

“If its forgiveness you want, then Kang Sujin, there is nothing to forgive between us. Your fight was with Jukyung. Not me.” Sujin appeared relieved till Seojun added, “However, my problem with you isn’t because of old grudges. I just can’t trust you, Kang Sujin. I believe you still will hurt Jukyung, even if you don’t mean to. And I can’t let that happen.”

Sujin’s mouth became small. She jutted her jaw, pouring another shot for herself. She downed it aggressively before responding. “I’m not the same girl anymore. I’m not in love with—”

“I keep hearing that you’ve changed. But have you really? Can you honestly tell me that you’re over him?”

“I am over him.”

“Bull shit. I saw the way you were looking Suho. All throughout dinner—”

“Aren’t you just projecting your own feelings onto me?” Sujin interrupted.

Seojun laughed incredulously, “What?”

“The one who’s not over their unrequited love is you. You’re not over Jukyung.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. All these years you’ve been pretending to be her friend. Aren’t you the one being two faced?”

“I’ve already confessed to her. We even went on a date.” Seojun crossed his arms with a smirk.

This was news to Sujin, “Aah. Is that so? Then isn’t that more pathetic? Even though she clearly doesn’t want you—”

“Ya, Kang Sujin.”

“—you’re still not over her. I too saw how you looked at her. With that pathetic puppy dog expression on your face. Don’t you think this is awkward for Jukyung? Sitting there with her boyfriend and—”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

“Wae? Don’t like it when the tables are turned on you?” Sujin and Seojun glared at each other with hatred. Seojun poured and downed a shot. Sujin swallowed and looked away. This was not how she imagined this conversation going.

“I’m not in love with her.” Seojun declared.

Sujin snorted, “Hul. Then why is it you who is giving me this lecture and not Lee Suho? If I’m really such a threat to Lim Jukyung, then shouldn’t her boyfriend be the one to confront me? What gives you the right to treat me this way?”

Seojun paused. “I can give you a million reasons; that I’m her friend, that even though I’m not her boyfriend, she stills relies on me, that I’m doing this out of humanity.”

Sujin scoffed.

“That I don’t want to lose another friend because of bullying.”

Sujin’s face fell. She licked her lips as she considered his point of view. Then, wordlessly, she poured him a drink.

“I’m not a bully. I never was. I did a shitty thing that I’ve apologized for and now I’d like to move on with my life.” She poured herself a shot of soju too. “I care about Jukyung. I will always regret what I did to her. But I still have a chance at friendship and I am going to take it whether you like it or not.”

They both took the shot. Sujin poured them another.

“We both care about Jukyung. And she would want us to get along, or at least pretend to for her sake.” Sujin gave Seojun a pointed look. The ball was in his court now.

Seojun remembered how uncomfortable Jukyung had been because of his hostility towards Sujin. True, Sujin wasn’t the kind to be trusted. Seojun was a man of action, he didn’t believe in hollow words. But it was also true that fighting with Sujin all the time would cause problems in their peaceful little group. And although he was sure that when it came to it, everyone would choose him and not her, he still held up the shot glass and said, “For Jukyung’s sake.”

The two drunken enemies staggered on the sidewalk, each supporting the other while trying not to fall; a drunk trying to steady another drunk.

“Ah-nee-ya, I’m not *hic* not in love with Jukyung. I don… I don…”

“Arassssso. And I’mf the Pwincess of England.” Sujin slurred, pushing Seojun upright as she tried to hail a taxi.

“Na ah-nee-ya. I’m not. Nope.” Seojun hiccuped.

“Ah just sstand still!” Sujin pushed his body away but his arm was still draped over her shoulder.

“Ah sshutup! Shut up you stupid Suijin!” Seojun started snickering at his own statement, “Hehehe. Stupid Suji. Sujinnie phabo.” Seojun pushed his weight onto her, still chortling.

“Ah stand still!!” Sujin wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him up. She was suddenly very aware of just how tall he was. Even with her own impressive height, he seemed too big.

A taxi finally stopped and Sujin struggled with pushing Seojun inside. She pushed him in with her legs when he bent over on the seat but refused to move further to give her room.

“Where to?” The driver asked when they both were seated.

“Han Seojun, tell him your address.”

Seojun fell to the other side, passed out. Sujin, who herself felt like passing out, leaned over to tap his face, “Han Seojun? Ya! Wake uuup.” He did not.

“Are we leaving or not?” The driver asked impatiently.

Sujin shook Seojun again. He stirred, only to mumble Jukyung’s name and pass out on her shoulder again. Sujin looked at the driver helplessly.

vi.

The first thing Seojun felt was the pounding headache, it brought him out of a very nice dream he’d been having that he promptly forgot. He could feel his legs sticking out from the side of the bed. In turning over, his elbow punched into something.

“Oof! Ow! What the hell!”

Sujin kicked at him as she pressed her ribs in pain. They both were surprised to find themselves tangled in each other. It took them exactly three seconds to start screaming.

They both flew off the bed, Sujin hitting Seojun repeatedly with her pillow.

“Ow! Ow! Ah! OW!”

“Why. Are. You. In. My. Bed?!”

“Why am I here? Why are you here?”

“This is my room asshole!”

Seojun grabbed Sujin’s wrist to keep her from hitting him. He looked around and indeed it was Sujin’s room.

“What the hell happened?” He asked.

She kicked him in the shin, “How the hell would I know? Explain yourself, Han Seojun!”

“You explain! How can I end up here if you didn’t bring me?”

Sujin’s raised foot, about to kick Seojun, slowly lowered. She was suddenly hit with the memory of last night. Drunkenly trying to enter the code to her door as Seojun whined about missing Jukyung, stumbling into her apartment and dragging Seojun by his collar to the couch, falling on top of him as he fell and then immediately picking herself up and going into her room to pass out.

Seojun put his hands on his hips defiantly, “Kang Sujin. We got drunk last night didn’t we? Aish, chincha. I never thought you’d be the kind of girl to take advantage of a guy like that.”

“Ah-ni-godun! That would never happen! I only brought you here because you wouldn’t tell me your address.”

“Ah, what a nice excuse. And whose idea was it to go drinking any way? Was this your plan all along? Of course, its understandable that you’d want a rebound with the most handsome guy around.”

Sujin scoffed in disbelief. “That’s not the case!” She protested. “And what handsome? I find you laughable.”

“And I find you detestable.”

“Then why did you come into my bedroom when I left you out on the couch?”

A flash of memory sparked in Seojun’s mind; of getting up, using Sujin’s bathroom and going into the bedroom thinking he was at Chorong’s place.

The red spreading on his cheeks was a dead giveaway to Sujin that she had him.

Seojun cleared his throat, “No matter what, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Of course, it doesn’t.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment as they wondered what to do next. They both spoke together.

“You should probably go.”

“I should leave.”

A rare agreement. They both nodded in sync.

“But… is there a back door to your apartment? I can risk having my face seen leaving a girl’s apartment.”

Sujin licked her lips as she considered this. “I think I have an idea.”

From the outside, Kang Sujin’s apartment door cracked open, just enough for two heads to poke out to check if the coast was clear. One of those heads was wearing a beanie, a mask and sunglasses. The other was Sujin. They both sneaked out of her apartment and beelined for the emergency stairs.

“Why is your apartment so up high?”

“We can always go in the elevator where my neighbors can see you.”

“I hate you.”

Finally making it out the back exit, the two relaxed.

“How are you going to get home?” She asked him.

“I’ll take the bus. Nobody will recognize me when I’m like this.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate fangirls.”

Seojun chuckled, “Never do. Bye then.”

Seojun turned, then paused, then turned back. “Kang Sujin.” He called out to her just as she was about to go in. “Thanks… for not just abandoning me last night.” It was the most difficult thank-you he had ever said.

Sujin simply nodded. “Get home safely.”

vii.

Sujin didn’t remember going back up to her apartment, just the click of the door shutting behind her that pulled her out of her daze.

She had just spent the night with Han Seojun. Admittedly, it meant nothing, but it still felt weird and she didn’t know what to do about it.

Maybe I should have asked him to eat before he went. He must have been hungry. She thought. And then scolded herself, Ah-nee, why would I care about him? He doesn’t matter to me anyway.

Traces of Han Seojun still lingered in her apartment; the bedsheet that had fallen on the floor, along with the pillow she had assaulted him with, his spicy scent on the bed and a metal ring on her bedside table that he must have taken off during the night.

Sujin held up the ring, looking through it. She would give it to him later, if they met again. She hoped they didn’t. She was already dreading the thought of encountering him again.

Kang Sujin didn’t let herself think too much about last night. She changed her sheets, showered and firmly put all thoughts of a certain idol out of her mind. He was just a silly twerp who had been a thug in high school and was now just an idol. He had nothing to do with her, nor she with him.

She had better things to do, like her work.

If you’re going to pretend to be all reformed then you shouldn’t make it too obvious. Charity work is a little too on the nose, don’t you think?

Nope, she wasn’t going to let that idiot get to her. Who was he to treat her like this? Next time she saw him, she would kick him in the face. Yes, that’s what she would do.

I keep hearing that you’ve changed. But have you really? Can you honestly tell me that you’re over him?

All day long Sujin’s hand twitched with the need to be scrubbed clean. They kept getting clammy and sticky. She wanted to scrub, scurb, scurb them of all the dirt and the grime and the filth of her past self. Sujin had believed that she had kicked this bad habit of unnecessarily cleaning her hands, but apparently she hadn’t.

My problem with you isn’t because of old grudges. I just can’t trust you, Kang Sujin. I believe you still will hurt Jukyung, even if you don’t mean to.

“Well who the hell wants your trust?” Sujin argued with the wind.

“Is everything okay?” One of the girls she worked with asked.

“What? Oh-um-yeah. Everything is fine! Just… talking to myself.” She put on a fake cheery attitude and shook her head.

It was only when Sujin’s day was finally over, and she was back in her empty apartment, leaning against her front door, that let herself feel the misery she had been suppressing.

Of course that Han Seojun hates me. What reason does he have not to?

Even the person who had been obligated to love and protect her, had only ever seen her as worthless. If her own father, couldn’t treat her with decency, then why should she expect a stranger to?

Her small apartment suddenly seemed so much bigger now. Big and empty, with shadows extending from the ground to the roof.

Kang Sujin, were you always such a piece of trash?

She hadn’t answered him back then. But in these quiet moments, she allowed herself to admit, “Yes, Han Seojun. I was always such a worthless piece of trash.”

Back when she had been a kid—running away from her problems in school, from what she had done to Jukyung—she would let this darkness take over. It would eat her inside and out till she was just a shell. However, now that he had grown up, she had learned how to deal with this on her own.

Sujin pushed herself off of the door and walked into her room, turning on all of the lights. Rest, she needed rest. And food, before anything else. Most of the time her depression would just be weakness caused by hunger. She was indeed careless with her health.

Her phone buzzed suddenly. It was a message from Jukyung. She would respond later. First she would spend time on herself. But then, almost immediately, there was a message from Suah. Then Suho. Even Taehoon. Then the phone lit up with a call from Jukyung.

“What’s going o—”

“Kang Sujin, have you seen the articles?”

“What?”

“There’s articles about you and Seojun dating.”

“WHAT?” It took Sujin a full minute to process what Jukyung was saying. She was speaking but Sujin didn’t hear the rest. Jukyung’s voice was muted from the speaker as Sujin searched through Naver for her and Seojun’s name.

“It’s all over the internet.” Jukyung was saying. “Someone’s posted pictures of you and Seojun together. Sujin-ah. Is that really you? Are you and Seojun dating?”

The room began to spin and Sujin had the urge to kick someone in the face.

“Jukyung-ah. I’ll call you back.”

What the hell happened?”

The articles Sujin found showed her and Seojun exiting her building. It was from this morning. Seojun’s face was well hidden but she could be clearly seen. From the way the pictures were taken, it looked as if the two were involved in something together.

Sujin’s phone suddenly lit up with an unknown number. She knew it could only be Han Seojun.

She pressed answer.

Some JunJin images I came up with just for fun

#junjin #Kang Sujin #Han Seojun #True Beauty #True Beauty Kdrama #Kdrama Fanfiction #True Beauty Fanfiction #Seojun x Sujin #Kang Soojin #Kang Sujin Fanfiction #Han Seojun Fanfiction #kdrama #fanfiction #park yoona #hwang inyeop

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag Royalty Au *in honor of Tanabata coming up, it was worked into the chapter 😊

“Oh, look Rin, there’s a traveling marionette show today. Do you want to watch?” She and Kagome had been wandering around the marketplace when they stumbled onto it.

“Yeah!” The child squealed in delight. “I’ve seen them before and they’re really good!”

“I think we got here just in time,” Kagome scanned for a seat. “There,” she pointed, “let’s sit down before it starts.”

It was quite amazing to see this group of traveling entertainers. Such troops would pass through her own kingdom, but Kagome was rarely allowed to leave the castle to watch them. From what she could see on their signs, they put on different shows for adults with a variety of acts, and puppet shows for the children, staying for a few days before moving onto the next town. The story they were about to perform was a classic tale of the star-crossed lovers Orihime and Hikoboshi. It was cute, albeit a bittersweet tale of eternal longing. Just as the show was getting ready to start, Kagome felt a body sit down beside her. She glanced over with her peripheral to make sure they weren’t a problem and noticed a familiar set of claws on the persons hands.

“Prince?” Kagome whispered not wanting to draw attention. “What are you doing here?”

“Miroku and I saw you two,” Inuyasha whispered back.

Kagome leaned forward a tiny bit and noticed Miroku on the other side of Inuyasha who nodded in recognition. “I see…”

“We we’re bored,” Inuyasha threw in, “so decided to join you.”

The comment made Kagome chuckle, which then caught Rin’s attention, who looked over and saw the men. The child’s eyes lit up at seeing her uncle and in her excitement, she got off her seat and quickly plopped herself onto Inuyasha’s lap.

“Guess I’m just a chair now,” he chuckled too. "Behave and watch the show or I’ll kick you off my lap.”

“I’m always a good girl,” the child retorted with a grin before turning back to the stage.

And she was. Rin sat enthralled by the whole production. They really were as good as she’d portrayed to Kagome. From the quality of the marionettes to the actor’s voice work, they truly pulled you into the story. But for the adults, it brought on a different wave of emotions, at least it did for Kagome. While the story was beautiful, she could identify with Princess Orihime’s longing for the one she’d fallen in love with despite her father’s rules… and to be torn apart because of it… At least, the Princess in the tale got to see her love once a year. Kagome won’t be able to do the same. She didn’t notice the small frown growing on Inuyasha’s face, because she avoided looking in his direction. He was her Hikoboshi, but she didn’t want him to notice the moisture clouding her eyes or realize how much the story was having an effect on her.

Once the final act was complete, the puppeteers came out from behind the curtain to bow to the audience’s wild applause. It was a great success for most including Rin who was clapping and bouncing on her uncle’s lap with excitement. Kagome was happy the child enjoyed the performance even though it took a toll on her.

“I love this story…” both Kagome and Inuyasha mumble at the same time, causing them to stiffen and turn to face the other.

“You do?” Inuyasha questioned.

“It’s sweet,” Kagome responded with heat coloring her cheeks. “Even though I feel bad for them.”

“Me too.” Inuyasha mumbled. “It’s not fair.”

Her eyes slightly widen, fully understanding what he was feeling in that moment. But as much as she would have loved to say more, Kagome knew she couldn’t, not in public like this.

“What’s not fair?”

Leave it to Rin to bring them back to the present.

“Oh, um,” Kagome quickly gave her attention to the little girl. “What uncle Inu means is it’s sad that Orihime and Hikoboshi only get to see each other once a year.”

After a brief pause, the child’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh,” Rin acknowledged her understanding. “Yeah, that’s not very fair. But at least they found someone.” She turned around and looked up. “Isn’t that a good thing uncle Inu?”

Again, the innocence of a child worked wonders for lightening the mood.

“Yes,” Inuyasha smiled down at his niece. “It is a good thing.” But his eyes drifted towards Kagome as he continued. “I’m sure Hikoboshi appreciates all the time he gets to spend with his Orihime.”

For several seconds the pair hold a gaze with one another. No words needed to communicate a sense of longing despair. Kagome may have been painfully aware of Inuyasha’s insinuation, but so was Miroku. The princes guard cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Inuyasha, we should get back to our patrols.” He spoke matter of fact.

“Right,” the hanyo grumped. Miroku constantly warned him about letting his true feelings slip, and even though he knew his friend was just looking out for him, Inuyasha didn’t need to like it. He sighed. “Okay Rin, time to get off. Uncles gotta go back to work.”

“Okay!” Rin jumped off his lap and stood next to Kagome who’d also risen to her feet. “We should finish our shopping and get back to the castle too,” she took hold of the child’s hand. “Say goodbye to your uncle Rin.”

“Bye uncle Inu!” She waved as the pair made their way back into the throng of market goers.

For the rest of the day, Kagome pushed aside the incident in the marketplace. Why think about it when it would only make her sadder at her circumstances, especially since for Rin it had been a fun experience hanging out with her uncle. She didn’t want the child to see that side of life for as long as possible. Even at dinner, Inuyasha was quieter than usual, but Kagome didn’t want to assume anything, so she went about her routines like normal pretending everything was fine. Sometimes it was easier to ignore reality. That is until Rin was already tucked into bed and Kagome headed towards the library to get some reading done. If there was one thing that could take her mind off most things it entailed drowning her thoughts in an academic book.

Most of the time.

Of all the stories that troop could have chosen for a children's play, why a sad love story? Why not a fanciful fairytale like a prince saving a princess from an evil villain or an adventurer searching for treasure and fame? But it wouldn’t be fair to pin all her woes on the performers. The Tanabata story was a popular one after all. Kagome sighed as she shifted in her seat to pull her legs up and under her body. The book she'd chosen was about medicinal herbs because she was curious about useful treatments. She'd hoped the interest would be enough to pull her away from thinking about the play, but it wasn't working. Maybe she just needed to give herself more time to process everything. 'Or maybe you need to do the opposite and stop thinking about anything!' Kagome chided herself. She really did need to stop letting her emotions control her. 'You're supposed to be hiding out here, remember?!'

It was the sound of approaching footsteps that caused Kagome to stop reading and look up from her book. Was it a guard? Nope, just Inuyasha.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Inuyasha dropped onto the couch next to her. “I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“Inuyasha? What’s wrong?” She put the book down when she saw the anger brimming in his eyes. “Did something happen?”

The prince let out an annoyed sigh. “I just had a huge fight with my dad.”

“A fight? Over what?”

“You.”

“Me?!” Her eyes widened. “Did I do something wrong?!”

“No, no, not you,” he grabbed her hands. “It’s all me. I… I-I told him— I told him that I refuse to honor the agreement to marry someone else. He wouldn’t even tell me who she is, so how would I ever be okay with it? I just can’t! Not when I’m already in love…”

Kagome swallowed back hard. “You are?”

His grip tightened, gaze turned serious and focused. “I told him I was in love with you. Kagome I can’t deny that anymore no matter how much I tried.”

“But you know we can’t—”

“I know, I know, it’s crazy, but after that story…” Inuyasha let go of her hands for a moment to gesticulate. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about it! I told him I’d rather stay single for the rest of my life if it meant still being around you… even if that’s all I get to have. I just want to stay in your life in any way I can.”

Kagome didn’t know what to say. With all her heart she wished it could work, but knowing she too was living a lie that she couldn’t reveal coupled with such a major potential for scandal… her voice lowered in hesitation. “Inu this is crazy…”

“Do you love me?” Is all Inuyasha blurted out.

“Yes—” she spoke from the heart, “but—”

Inuyasha took her hands again and brought them to his chest. “Then that’s enough for me.”

Despite his efforts to reassure her, Kagome couldn't be happy about this declaration of love. She'd heard some of the whispers starting around the castle about their forbidden relationship. What if someone started to talk? What if someone started to question her true origins? All it would take is someone mentioning to the wrong person the woman in the castle who'd stolen the prince’s attention. And what about the royal family? How will they treat her now? Will they see her as a jezebel? A woman who’d infiltrated their life to cause problems?? Kagome shook her head. “But there must be consequences!” She knew all too well as a hypocrite, the rippling damages that could occur from breaking such trusts. “You don’t just break an agreement like that without consequences.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I give you, my word. As for me, I can handle my dad. He was angry but believes he can make it work, probably honor the rest of the deal just minus the marriage part.”

“Which was?”

“In exchange for the marriage, we guaranteed to protect that kingdom. They’re smaller than us, so they really have no choice but to take the amended deal because it at least assures them of safety.”

Kagome was so torn in that moment about what to do. She couldn't tell him the truth yet, not because she didn't trust him, but because she didn't want to burden him with it. If anyone were to find out who she really was, they might notify her parents and her life at the palace would truly be over with. It was selfish, but could anyone blame her? This was the first time in her life she's experienced freedom and happiness. Ugh, why’d she have to fall in love with Inuyasha? Why’d Inuyasha have to fall in love with her? Is fate always so cruel? First the idea of an arranged marriage, but now to be stuck in a forbidden one. Was she cursed? Were they both cursed?

“Y-You’re sure your father won’t hold this against me? Because I-It wasn’t planned. I never intended for any of this to happen.” The tears had begun to fall down Kagome’s cheeks at the enormous weight levied onto her shoulders.

“Neither had I,” Inuyasha wiped at the tears and cradled her cheek. “Neither of us could have controlled what our hearts desired.”

“But I’m scared Inu…”

“I swear on my life nothing will happen to you and if it comes to it, we’ll run away, far away and hide just me and you.” He leaned their foreheads together. “I don’t care about my title. I just want to be with you.”

“I wanna be with you too,” Kagome breathed out.

“Then have faith in our destiny.” Inuyasha tilted Kagome’s face up and swept his lips over hers, earning a shivering sigh. He then centered and placed pressure into a deeper kiss.

Kagome melted into the kiss as her fingers moved up and gripped to his shirt. Let her fears be damned in that moment, for if this earned her banishment in the end, just tasting his lips this once… she could die happy knowing she’d felt love. It was more than she ever thought she’d achieve in this gilded life.

“I’ll try,” she whispered an honest answer. “In you… I’ll believe…”

#inukag #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inukag au #royalty au #inuyasha x kagome #inukago #ch 5 #the irony of fate #petri808

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peachyteez · 4 years

Text

second chances ≫ DAY TWO, NEEDLES.

as a feral wolf hybrid that was violent with all of the employees assigned to him, seonghwa was subjected to be put down. however, jiyu being the softhearted feral hybrid nurse she was, she decided to save seonghwa no matter what.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @choisaniskillingme

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added!

✧ note: puppy!beomgyu makes me so soft, y’all don’t even know—

back。| next。

“are you sure this is a good idea?” yeonjun asked for what seemed like the millionth time since jiyu came into work. even though he transferred seonghwa’s file to her, he still had his doubts about leaving jiyu with a violent hybrid.

jiyu sighed. they were walking down the hall towards seonghwa’s room so jiyu can check up on him. “yes, jun. i’ll be fine,” she reassured. “you underestimate my skills a lot, you know,” she teased with a chuckle.

yeonjun pouted and crossed his arms. “can’t blame me for being worried,” he grumbled. seeing they already arrived at said hybrid’s room, he patted her head. “well, this is your stop. hope to see you during lunch and not in the infirmary,” he said before leaving.

jiyu scoffed at yeonjun’s remark, yet she couldn’t help but smile. pressing the numbers on the keypad, jiyu took a deep breath before pressing the enter button.

seonghwa’s ears perked when he heard two voices on the other side of the door. then he heard one of them walk away while the other stayed. hearing the beep of the keypad and the opening of his door, seonghwa turned his head away from the window to look at the person.

he was mildly surprised when he recognized the same female from the previous day. he kept his eyes trained on her with his guard up.

jiyu softly smiled when she spotted the hybrid sitting on the floor and looking back at her. seonghwa didn’t say anything and returned his gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. jiyu gently placed the clipboard down on the table and walked towards the hybrid and sat down next to him, but maintaining a safe distance. “hi, seonghwa.”

seonghwa glanced at her from his peripheral vision and gave a slight nod of his head—his way of greeting. jiyu’s smile grew wider when he acknowledged her. he wasn’t as bad as others made him out to be, and she didn’t know why.

“can you let me do a checkup on you?” she carefully asked. she saw him tense. “is that a no?”

after a moment’s hesitation, seonghwa wordlessly stood up from the ground and moved to the bed. he sat down and stared at jiyu. sensing her confusion, he gestured with his head towards the stethoscope around her neck.

jiyu gasped. “thank you!” she chirped before springing up from the floor and walking towards the hybrid. she placed the stethoscope in her ears. “don’t be alarmed. this is just to check your heartbeat. i promise i won’t hurt you, okay?” she gently reassured before putting the stethoscope on his chest.

seonghwa flinched from the cold metal object on his chest and he started growling. jiyu immediately retracted the intstrument. “no no no, it’s nothing harmful. see?” she put the metal part of the stethoscope on her own chest to demonstrate how unharmful it was. “it’s not hurting me and it won’t hurt you, either.”

his growling ceased after a minute and jiyu took it as a sign to try again. gently placing it on his chest, she internally sighed in relief when seonghwa didn’t start growling again. telling him to take deep breaths in and out, they smoothly finished with the stethoscope.

“your heartbeat sounds normal,” she mumbled to herself as she wrote on seonghwa’s medical file. most of it was filled out with the exception of his heart rate condition and the shots. it turns out that the previous nurses were never able to give him his shots since he always attacked them.

jiyu took a deep breath as she prepared the syringe. her back was towards seonghwa, so he didn’t notice the needle in her hand. she turned back towards the hybrid. seonghwa spotted the syringe and immediately, his started growling again. and this time, his chilling gaze was fixed on jiyu.

jiyu hid the syringe behind her back. she felt her heartbeat quicken at the thought of seonghwa attacking. “are...are you afraid of needles...?” she asked.

seonghwa backed up on the bed as he kept his eyes on jiyu. like the previous day, he pressed himself ip against the corner and continued growling as a warning. gently putting the needle back on the table, she held her hands up again.

“look, i don’t have the needle anymore,” she showed. “please calm down, seonghwa. i won’t hurt you.”

she waited with bated breath for him to calm down on his own terms. seeing that jiyu was just standing still, not making a move, seonghwa immediately stopped. but he still kept himself pressed against the wall.

“okay, then...no shots today, i guess,” jiyu mumbled as she slowly shuffled back over to the clipboard. putting the cover over the needle, she put the syringe back in the breast pocket of her white coat and turned back to the hybrid in the corner. her face softened. “sorry, buddy.”

seonghwa cocked his head to the side, skeptcism written all over his face. usually whenever he refused the shots, the nurses always tried to hold him down to insert the needle into his arm. not that the method ever worked since seonghwa always went into violent mode.

yet jiyu just put the syringe away and didn’t try to force him?

jiyu sensed his apprehension. “i won’t force you to do something you’re not comfortable with. i don’t know what you went through before coming here, but as your new caretaker, i’ll try to help you recover as much as i can,” she explained with a soft smile. “so no need to be afraid of me, okay?”

a curious expression replaced the glare on seonghwa’s face. did the woman in front of him really have no malicious intents? did she really mean what she said?

glancing at the clock, she realized her time with seonghwa was up. “oh, it’s soobin’s turn,” she said to herself before turning her attention back to seonghwa. “well, that’s all the time we have for now! i’ll come by and check up on you during my lunch break.”

with a little wave and smile, jiyu left seonghwa’s room. like the previous day, seonghwa stared at the door. he cocked his head to the side again. “interesting...”

meanwhile, jiyu internally berated herself as she walked to soobin’s room. “ohmygod, why did you have to whip out a needle on the first day!” she whisper–shouted to herself. “so much for trying to get him to warm up...”

“jiyu!”

turning towards the voice, her eyes widened when she saw a familiar golden retriever hybrid barreling towards her at high speeds. “wait, wait, slow down–”

bam!

her warning proved to be useless as the puppy–hybrid literally crashed into her and they both tumbled to the floor.

jiyu, flat on her back with a hybrid towering over her, crossed her arms and furrowed her eyebrows. “beomgyu, what did i say about tackling people?” she gently scolded as she reached up and flicked his forehead.

beomgyu laughed and stood up before helping jiyu up. “sorry! i just got excited,” he sheepishly explained as he scratched the back of his neck. jiyu couldn’t help but smile.

“beomgyu, come back!”

frantically turning the corner was yeonjun as he searched for the energetic hybrid. finding him with jiyu, he sighed in relief. approaching the two, he bent down with his hands on his knees as he tried catching his breath. “what...did i...say...about running...off?” he panted.

beomgyu stuck his tongue out. “you’re just out of shape.”

yeonjun immediately stood up straight. “yah!”

beomgyu giggled and hid behind jiyu, poking his face above her head since she was significantly shorter than him. yeonjun just sighed—he can never win against beomgyu. jiyu snorted at the scene, letting beomgyu rest his chin on top of her head.

“you actually came out unharmed,” yeonjun incredulously commented. “how did he not attack you?”

“i was just gentle with him. but i couldn’t give him his shots...seems like he hates needles,” she said.

“oh, yeah! yeonjun–hyung told me about park seonghwa,” beomgyu piped up. “if he ever hurts you, i’ll bite him!”

jiyu softly chuckled as she imagined beomgyu trying to bite someone like seonghwa. “thanks, beomgyu,” she thanked as she reached up and scratched behind his ears, making him close his eyes in content.

yeonjun stuffed his hands in his white lab coat pockets. “yeah, he wouldn’t let anyone give him his shots. usually, the other hybrids take a week or two until they get used to us and the checkups, so we can give them the shots. but it’s been about two months already for seonghwa and he’s still attacking everyone, even if he’s seen them everyday.”

jiyu furrowed her eyebrows. “i don’t know what he went through before coming here, but maybe that explains his behavior,” she said. “well, either way, i won’t force him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. the previous nurses were probably too forceful with him.”

yeonjun thoughtfully hummed.

“oh, i was supposed to go visit soobin!” jiyu squeaked in realization.

beomgyu gasped. “can we come, too?!” beomgyu asked, giving her his best puppy–dog eyes.

“yeah, can we?” yeonjun asked. “i haven’t seen him since he was admitted here.”

jiyu nodded. “alright, just try not to overwhelm him, okay?” she asked, although she was directing the question more to the hyper golden–retriever hybrid.

beomgyu smiled and playfully saluted. “yes ma’am!”

yeonjun sighed. “sometimes i think you listen to jiyu more than you do to me.”

#9th member of ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #park seonghwa #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #park seonghwa imagines #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #did i plan another series even though i just started this?#yes i did

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builder051 · 3 years

Text

The talk

Chasing Ghosts

(I generally do not play in this arena; DO NOT ask for other stories with PMS, etc., as illness features. I do loosely plan to continue this thread, though. Or @mohini-musing might pick up for me.)

Warnings: weight (though not ED context), SA inc. prostitution, blood, emeto

____________________________

Tasha comes down the hall and stands like a ghost behind the sofa.

James is in the recliner across the living room, and he barely looks up from the textbook he's pretending to peruse. The quiet music he's had playing in one ear has long since captured his attention more than the multiplication of matrices. He's fairly sure he'll never use the skill lest he become a software engineer post-graduation, and the prospect of that's looking pretty slim.

He sees Tasha out of his peripheral vision, but doesn't move his head or lift his eyes for acknowledgment. She's probably drifted down from her weekend high, realized it's Sunday night, and gotten up for a Gatorade and maybe a glance at her homework.

Steve, though, who's lying on his stomach and taking up the whole of the couch, practically jumps to attention. He stands, scoots, and sits again in the amount of time it takes James to blink and make the first inhalation of a laugh.

"Sorry," Steve says, as if he's personally offended Tasha and just been called out. "I didn't mean... I was just, like, studying..."

Tasha shrugs. "Didn't come to sit with you," she says, in a voice that recalls the 'boys are gross' tone of young teenagerhood.

"What's up, then?" James asks, trying to bring back the balance of the room's atmosphere.

Tasha makes an ugly face. She opens her mouth, then shuts it. "Can I talk to you alone?"

James scoffs. "You think there's privacy in this apartment?"

"I can go, I don't know--" Steve looks around.

"Just talk," James says. He almost rolls his eyes, but the undercurrent of Tasha's affect seems to hold an air of seriousness. If there's something she needs to confess or ask for help with, he doesn't want her to feel less than secure.

Tasha lets out a breathy sort of sigh. "Blood," she says. "There's blood."

"Huh?" Steve responds first. "Where?"

James takes a little longer to contemplate the admission. Has she cut herself? There's no visible damage; Tasha's not holding an injury or howling in pain. Bloody vomit? That's nothing new, really, and even with vampire-red teeth, which she doesn't have, Tasha probably wouldn't come crying to him.

James is still thinking when Tasha points vaguely down the hall and to the left, which is, technically speaking, her side of the apartment. Or at least the bedroom and bathroom they'd parceled out for her when they'd unofficially moved her out of her dreary campus housing.

"What, in your room?" Steve asks.

"No." Tasha screws up her eyes. "I mean... I'm bleeding."

The cogs continue to turn in James's head, and just as he lands on an answer, Steve gives up, shaking his head and saying, "I don't get it."

"Fuck you," Tasha mumbles. "Both of you." She turns and starts to head back down the hallway.

"Tash." James jumps to his feet, his algebra book falling to the floor.

"You guys are fucking gay..."

"Hey!" Steve interjects.

James flaps his hand at Steve to shut him up. "Maybe we're gay, but I'm your big brother." He shoots a quick glance at Steve, hoping this won't surpass his no privacy promise. They've done some pretty wild stuff together: partying, puking, cleaning the carpet... Period talk shouldn't be too far out of their wheelhouse. At least, not if Tasha wants to talk about it.

Tasha huffs and rounds the edge of the sofa. She stands beside the arm, leaning her hip against it for a moment, before finally deciding to sit down, as far away from Steve as possible.

"I..." James starts, assuming it's his responsibility to keep the conversation going. "I assumed you hadn't been, um. You know."

Tasha's 100 pounds soaking wet. In her usual cutoff shorts and tank tops, he'd give her 95. Maybe 92 if she's detoxing. James assumes she has something like female athlete triad going on, except without the athlete. He doesn't like to think she's just too skinny to go through... normal biological processes. If he blames the drugs, sees them as wrecking her body instead of bringing her solace, then he'll have to turn eyes on himself, and there's no way in hell he wants to do that.

"Smart one," Tasha says. "And exactly how much thought do you give to the functioning of my uterus?"

Steve gives an 'oh shit' face, looking from James to Tasha and back again as if wondering how he's been so thick headed. James agrees, but is also relieved, in a way, that his boyfriend hasn't been thinking about his sister in, well, that way.

"Seeing as I have, more than once, pulled you out of an R-rated situation with iffy consent, and you have yet to become pregnant--" James starts.

"Yeah, ok, you don't have to..." Tasha shakes her head.

James decides not to stop his momentum. "Do you know how much sex you're having? How often you're using protection?"

"I said, you don't have to." Tasha glares at him. "I don't have one. A cycle, or whatever. I can't get knocked up."

"Well, I figured that, but you can still get an STD--

"I don't think you're hearing me," Tasha says. "I don't have one. I haven't. Like, ever."

"But--what?" James squints and cocks his head. "What about, what was it? Cheerleading camp?"

"That stupid summer program when I was 16?" Tasha bites her lip. "Yeah, that was a lie."

"You're losing me." Steve reminds them he's part of the conversation as well.

"What, didn't your mom send you to cheerleading camp when you were a sullen teen?" Tasha asks him, seemingly in all seriousness.

"Um. No." Steve withers a little under her stare. "There was a threat to beat it out of me with a bible when I was that age, but that never came to fruition."

"Mm. Fun times." Tasha scrubs her hair back from her face. "I told mom of the moment I started at camp, so then she couldn't go nuts about the moment I 'became a woman,' or whatever."

Tasha has always seemed like a little kid to James. Her stint at camp had only taken place... he quickly calculates... 3ish years ago. Tasha is a kid. She hasn't busted 20 years old yet. But, for the first time James wonders if other, more metaphorical factors are at play.

The idea quickly fades, though, when he remembers the actual topic at hand. "Ok, but Tash," James says. "What's actually going on right now?"

Tasha practically sinks into the couch cushions. She wraps both arms around her abdomen. "Blood," she says. "Kinda...everywhere."

"We'll clean the bathroom later," James says dismissively.

"And I'll do laundry," Steve offers. "I used to be the scrawny kid who got beat up a lot. I can do bloodstains."

"Not helping, babe," James tells him before Tasha can get a word in.

"Feel sick," Tasha admits, rather suddenly.

"Bathroom it is, then," James decides. "But, let's use mine."

Tasha seems to have turned into a shapeless blob on the corner of the couch, her chest meeting her thighs with her arms still wrapped around her stomach. Her face is in her knees, which James has to admit, would be easier to clean than the carpet.

"Come on," he says gently, taking Tasha's shoulder. "If you're gonna puke, don't do it here, please."

"But I already diiiiid," Tasha complains, drawing out the last word and adding the hiccup of a fake crying fit.

"Sorry." James hooks his flesh arm across Tasha's chest and lets her cling to him down the hall. He takes her into his and Steve's disorganized yet bleach-shined bathroom. Cleaning was practically Steve's hobby. Yet keeping down the clutter? Not his strong suit.

Unsure of exactly what kind of sick his sister intends to be, he sets her down, fully clothed, on the toilet, which, of course, has the seat up. Then he dives for the trash can and shoves it into Tasha's chest.

She gives James an appreciative glare, then sets her chin on the edge of the trash can, ostensibly to wait for an upcoming retch. James can practically see it, rising from the bottom of her spine, up her back, to her neck and throat before finally pushing a pitiful amount of spit and bile out of her mouth.

"Ok..." James sighs. If she's down to just that, she's been at it a while. Lost a lot of fluids already.

"Gatorade?" Steve asks in a chipper tone, putting voice to what James is thinking without a trace of delicacy.

"Hmph." Tasha spits. "If it'll... make it stop burning..."

"Lemme guess, vodka last night?" James tries to make her laugh. Maybe cough.

"Fuck you."

"Eh, we'll talk about that later," James says, hoping he doesn't sound threatening. "For now, how about I go with you?" James pulls on Steve's arm and heads for the bathroom door.

"Hey, you said no privacy here..." Tasha's irritated and sickly voice trails after them.

"Yeah, well, puking people aren't allowed to leave the bathroom," James says. "That's the house rule that trumps all the others."

"But I puke on the couch all the time--"

"That's because it's too hard to get your fucking limp-ass octopus body into the bathroom in the first place." James rolls his eyes. "Just sit tight."

He quickly drags Steve into the kitchen. "Ok," he says. "You have to know about this stuff. You took health class in high school, right?"

"I've lived with a woman," Steve reminds James, a little shamefully. "But Peggy was super private. You know, like inhibited, about, like, um..."

"Yeah, I get it." James shrugs. Then, "Did you know you can stem a nosebleed with a tampon?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know..." James shakes his head.

"Why do you?" Steve looks a little take aback now.

"The field. Desert air's pretty damn dry."

"Ah. Ok."

"We'd get donations of shit from the states. Care packages, Costco overstock, you know. Just, whatever. When we got pads and stuff, whoever was unloading the box would just hold them over their head and yell 'who needs them?'"

"And I'm assuming people would just raise their hands?" Steve postulates.

"Yup." James pops the P. "No privacy. Everyone knows everyone else's bathroom habits. When you're deep in the field, there's no men's and women's facilities. Half the time the privies don't even have doors."

"Ok." Steve nods. "Experience, then. You have lots of experience."

James shrugs again. "You have to be chill, ok?" He opens the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Gatorade. He holds one to either side of Steve's neck, as if to physically cool him. "This is, like, super weird and awkward for her. She's really scared, I think, and her brave face just looks...jerk-ish."

"Yeah." Steve takes the Gatorade. "I can be good with this. I really care about her, even if she doesn't think I do."

"I know you do," James says. "It's all in the presentation right now, though. She's skittish. But, also, for some reason, willing to talk. We have to tease it out. And you can't ruin it, ok?"

"Ok, ok." Steve seems to understand, even if he doesn't appreciate the words.

They head back to the bathroom, where Tasha has, for whatever reason, decided to heave into the toilet instead of the trash. She squats awkwardly, sitting on one heel. From the angle he's at, James can see a spreading stain on the back of Tasha's shorts, which has made an imprint on her ankle and the bottom of her foot.

"Don't move," James says, reaching for a towel.

"The fuck would I?" Tasha coughs, holding her stomach and moaning.

"Well, when you're done, stand up slowly and wipe your feet."

"...Shit..." Tasha spits. "Like I said. It's fucking everywhere."

"Yeah..." Menstrual blood, James has no experience with. But blood in general, yeah. It does get fucking everywhere. There's that first moment when the entire body and all its systems are still in shock, like when the arm is first blown off, and then all he can see is red. Even the bone that was white just a second ago is lost in a sea of scarlet--

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," Steve says with a grin, clearly trying to be friendly, but missing out on one, or more, of the points. "You're not pregnant."

"Well, of course I'm not, you dingbat," Tasha replies, rolling her eyes so hard that James is sure it must give her a headache. If she doesn't already have one. "And besides. He used a condom."

"Wait," James says. He's been preoccupied by not looking at Steve. "You know that?" he pokes cautiously. "For sure?"

"...Yeah..."

"Every time?"

"To be honest," Tasha starts, spitting and pushing herself away from the toilet. She crab-walks to the towel, wipes her feet, then sits on it, criss-cross like a little kid. "I don't know if he actually gets off every time." She draws her mouth into a straight, defensive line.

"The fuck does that have to do with anything?" James asks.

Steve looks very much like he wants to get the bleach from the cabinet under the sink, pour it into one ear, tip his head, and see if it comes out the other.

"He pulls out," Tasha says bluntly. "And there's never any, you know. Gunk."

"Wait, he does both?" Steve's eyebrows disappear into his hair. "A condom and--"

"Ok, ok." James puts up his hands to shush them both. "And this is, what, this is your dealer we're talking about?"

"Yeah, I guess, if you want to call him that," Tasha says with a shrug.

"What else would we call him?" Steve now looks disgusted. "That'd be stupid to let him just, like, defile you every week."

"He doesn't--" Tasha starts, but then she hiccups, and maybe thinks better of what she was going to say. She still stares Steve down, though, then looks to James as if grasping at straws of support.

"He's, like, a manufacturer?" Tasha turns her gaze sideways.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." James puts his hand over his face. He'd assumed Tasha was getting her stuff on the street, through a framework of various interlopers. Now he's getting news that his kid sister is taking substances thrown together in some coed's bathtub? This is too much.

"Tash--" James starts, trying hard to keep his bubbling anger and concern from spilling over.

"He's a PhD candidate," Tasha says defensively. In Chemistry. And--" her eyes flicker from side to side as she seems to wonder what's appropriate to spill. "I won't tell you his name. But... I'll tell you that he got kicked off the football team for being too violent, but he still wears his green jersey all the time to prove how much better and calmer he's become since that happened, which was only in the freshman year of his undergrad..." Tasha babbles on.

The more she defends the guy, the more James hates him. He feels bad for him a little, slinging synthesized crack to get by. He feels better for Tasha, knowing that what she's taking is most probably pure. But the sex thing is--

"It's kinda creepy," Steve says, taking the words right from James's mouth. "Like, how much older than you is he?"

"I don't know." Tasha shrugs. "Not that much, I don't think. Started school early, finished fast. And I'm not sure this is his first post-graduate program..."

"Maybe shouldn't've added that last part," James says, screwing up his eyes. "So he's had, like, however long to prey on girls who are barely legal. Who might not even be legal..."

"Well, I'm legal, and I can do what I want." Tasha crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Yeah," James sighs. "Unfortunately."

"But what about the thing with the handcuffs? The gang rape? Losing your bra?" Steve blurts out.

"Wait, you..." Tasha's eyes flash with anger. "You told him?"

"What did I say about privacy?" James quickly reminds her. "The non-puking kind? And, um," He looks to Steve. "Maybe a little respect?"

"Sorry," Steve mutters. "But--I really do--"

"I don't really remember that stuff," Tasha says.

James studies her face, but he can't tell if she's lying.

"Probably just party stuff that got out of hand."

'You mean you were too stoned to know the difference between your regular and some random dude off the street,' James thinks. 'What do you do at parties? And how the fuck do you slip past me?'

"He's your pimp, too, isn't he?" Steve asks, pointing at Tasha rather accusatorially, in James's opinion.

"No!" Tasha leans forward and brings her arms down to cover her clearly still sore abdomen. "Bruce wouldn't--" She swallows. "I didn't-- You didn't hear--"

James hasn't been a student long enough to know who was on the football team 4, 5, 6-odd years ago. He supposes he could look it up, crossing the name with accounts of any violent incident that amount of time ago. He's not sure he wants to, though he'll probably wind up looking it up later. Either that, or Steve will. James still has his ex-mil connections, a few of which were absorbed into the local police force. Steve, on the other hand, is better with social media and navigating the niceties of such mysteries as SnapChat and TikTok.

"Ok, fine," James says, just ameliorate his sister's panic.

"He doesn't even drug me at parties," Tasha goes on, probably unaware of how terribly young and desperate she sounds, making lame-ass excuses so she can keep her boy toy.

"And you've had other guys who did?" Steve asks incredulously, even though James shakes his head frantically at him to try to get him to shut up.

"You know Rumlow?" Tasha asks, since apparently she's now all about spilling names.

James shakes his head, but Steve screws up his eyes and says in a disgusted voice, "him?"

"Yeah..." Tasha sighs and looks down at her fingernails, which are stained rust-red at the root. "Remember the night I didn't come home?"

"Yeah, and scared the living shit out of us because your phone was off," James fills in the blanks.

"Well, I didn't turn it off."

"You mean that asshole kept you overnight without any means of getting yourself out of there?" Steve looks downright sick. "I mean, I know he looks slimy, but that?"

"I think Maria accidentally slept on the couch and found me at, like, 6am trying to stick my head in the linen closet because I couldn't find the bathroom." Tasha laughs, though the situation is anything bur funny.

"And I was so pissed at her for having you out all night..." James trails off.

"Yeah, maybe respect my choices a little more?" Tasha glares at him. "I mean, Maria's studying to become an EMT now. You can't think that badly of her."

'Great,' James thinks. 'Someone who'll drug Tasha to the gills every weekend.' She'll be less likely to overdose, but James has seen it all too often in the field. Newly minted medical personnel eager to sow off their skills and rushing into action.

"Yeah," James says, trying not to smirk. "So you got a girlfriend and a boyfriend now?"

"Ew, no," Tasha replies. "Friends with...benefits, I guess. If you even want to call it that. Folks who look out for each other, using a barter system?"

"Did you recently take World History?" James can't help but poking at her vocabulary.

"Fucking-a, I don't know. Once I pass, it's in my past."

"That's actually a good motto," Steve points out.

"Anyway," James says, bringing the conversation back to topic. "None of your...friends... are invited to this house."

"It's not like I want to bring them over for dinner," Tasha replies. "I guess drop off and pickup might happen, since, well, you know now, and I don't have a car." She shrugs. "Cool?"

James hates the idea of someone inebriated driving a car in which his sister is a passenger, despite the fact that he's done it before. Regularly, actually. Maybe he just hates the idea of the driver being someone who Tasha just fucked. The air might be heavy between them. They might smell like each other's deodorant and musk. They might kiss each other good bye. The thought makes James's stomach turn.

But, "sure," he says. "That's fine.” At least she'll come home.

James shares a glance with Steve, which seems to confirm the same sentiments, "Yeah," Steve echoes, as if his opinion counts for anything. "Fine."

11 notes · View notes

scriptaed · 4 years

Text

bygones of the sun. 04 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 4.8k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

a/n: a repost of my old fic!

You [6:36 pm] I won’t be in class today, sorry…

Hani [6:38 pm] Wait, what? Are you sure? We have a test coming up soon...

Hani [6:39 pm] Is everything okay?

You [6:40 pm] Oh yeah, I’m totally fine. I just got a cold over the weekend.

Because of a certain someone, you cough into the glaring phone screen which buzzes with yet another incoming text.

Hani [6:40 pm] Ay… why are you always so careless about your health.

Hani [6:41 pm] Alright, well, make sure you get lots and lots of rest!

Hani [6:41 pm] Don’t worry about today, I’ll head over tomorrow to hand you my notes.

It’s times like these that you wonder what you had ever done in your past life to be blessed with friends like Hani and Junghwa, but considering how you’ve also been cursed with the boy that is named Jung Hoseok, you’re not sure if you’ve once led a courageous or cowardice life. Nonetheless, you smile to yourself in bed, stricken with a cold only you and him know the cause of, and you plan to keep it that way.

You [6:43 pm] Thanks, you’re the best. Tell Junghwa I said hi and that I’m sorry!

Hani [6:44 pm] Oh, don’t worry… I will… and when I do, you’ll hear her screaming from all the way back home.

Snorting at her remark—which is hardly an exaggeration—you toss your phone to the side of your bed and plop back down to sink into the abyss of your mattress and, hopefully, slumber; but unlike the wishes you’ve planned for your progress towards recuperation, sleep does not come to you as easily as you had hoped for it to. And it’s not because of your constant blowing of nose, only to have it stuffed again the second you lie back down, or the shuffling in bed to stimulate some warmth into your freezing hands that keeps you up, but it’s the flashbacks of that night from just a couple of days ago that continues to burn in the back of your mind and keeps you awake.

“What’re you talking about?” you scoff. “Me? In love with you? There has to be something wrong with you.”

“Really?” his vacant hand cups his chin in thought as the other handles the steering wheel with utter ease, and even though his carefree stance should be something to worry over, you can’t help but admit how oddly enticing he looks; one hand on the wheel and another running through his drenched bangs which framed his facial features, including his sharp jawline and the bump of his Adam’s apple, everything from his relaxed posture to the dark look of his eyes when he whips his head to throw a quick glance—or more accurately, a smirk—strikes an urge of desire you ironically want to disown. Allured by the glow of his honey tan skin and the soft, red lips of his under the streetlights which zooms past through the night sky looming above, you’re just barely able to catch his next words. “Then explain why you’re always staring at me like that.”

“Staring?” you subconsciously blurt out until you’re finally able to register his question, eliciting a frown from you. “I’m not staring. What is there to stare at?”

“Well, apparently, there’s me,” he quips. “What? Too handsome to look away? Should I wear a mask next time?”

You scoff, mouth gaping and eyes shifting between the cocky boy and the streets, “I can’t believe you… do you not know the concept of decency?”

“There’s nothing to be decent about when I’m just stating the truth,” he chortles with a shrug.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you’re shocked that someone as prideful as him actually exists in the world. So in a rage of a fit, you open the front glove compartment only to be shot down with yet another surprise waiting for you, which happens to be a box of… condoms.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath, cheeks burning and eyes widening when you finally acknowledge the things the boy next to you is up to in his free time. Your attempt to be discrete about your findings coming to a failure when Hoseok catches a glimpse of you and cackles in response.

Slamming the compartment closed, you opt for your wet flip flops, slipping it off and tossing it at his head; right before it hits your target, Hoseok spots the flying object in his peripheral vision as he catches it in mid air and tosses it right back at your side of the ground. Your loud sigh becomes apparent as you watch the slipper flop right back onto your foot as if nothing had happened in the first place, but none of your actions occur without a consequence as the car thrillingly swerves side to side throughout it all and elicits a shriek from you while you push your back into the seat and your hand reaches for the grab handles hanging from the ceiling.

“Hey, I’m trying to get us both back alive and in one piece. I don’t think I need your dirty slippers for that,” he quips with a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Then at least drive with both hands…” you mumble, hesitantly crossing your arms in fear. “I don’t want to see my life flash right before my eyes again.”

He looks over at you with a quirked brow, “you mean like this?”

You should’ve known better than to trust the renewed version of Jung Hoseok, because the next thing you know, the car sways sharply left to right and right to left as you shoot the mischievous boy a death glare. But contrary to the spite you’re trying to channel into your glare, what you find yourself and your panicking heart isn’t anger or frustration or any of that; instead, you find yourself flooded with warmth and endearment, because the boy you’re staring at brings you back to the times when you held nothing but admiration and adoration towards the renowned dancer.

Because he’s smiling again. No, not one of those smug smiles or smirks that he likes to put on in the presence of the public, but one that had been long buried underneath the ever growing shadows of the nightly phase of his demeanor. His grin spreads from ear to ear, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth and scrunching his eyes into slim lines which resonates with joy and nothing but joy and careless of the dark world surrounding him.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe under my hands,” he firmly states once the car fixes itself back into its lane amidst the empty streets of the night, looking over at you with a smirk only to crack up back into a full out cackle at the sight of your glare.

Safe under his hands, you mull over his words, it’s ironic how you felt the exact opposite around him.

But at this very moment, when your glare turns into a gaze and you can’t believe you’re actually staring at him in utter adoration, what you find yourself looking at is the boy who likes to have fun and never once cares for what others thought of him. And although you don’t like to admit it, but you find yourself falling all over again. As the car rolls along the bridge, the highway filled with cars coming into full view right underneath, your wall crumbles one by one and brick by brick. You don’t know if it’s just you and your hopeless thinking, but you like to think each and every time the street lights shine upon his sun kissed skin, a little part of the old Hoseok reveals itself in both his laugh and smile.

It’s ironic because you felt the most unsafe under his hands; as if your determination to disprove everything you once thought was wrong, that your feelings only belongs to the old Hoseok and not the new, only seems to be knocked down day by day. The longer you stay to watch the moon pass by the radiance of the sun, the more you find yourself squinting and looking away in both longing for the past and security of knowing you’re safe. Because unbeknownst to him, you’re everything but safe under his hands.

“So?”

The low tone of his voice is enough to snap you back into reality.

“So what?”

“So…” he repeats. “Are you going to explain to me why you’re always staring at me like that?”

“Like what?” you scrunch your nose. Ah, the new Hoseok is back within the blink of an eye. “I’m not staring at you.”

Hoseok turns to raise a brow at your less than convincing claim, blinking at you with those dark, alluring eyes of his and a jump in your chest traps a gasp in your throat. Slowly averting his eyes back on the road, a smirk adorns his tender lips as a chuckle escapes from the back of his throat.

“Alright, if you say so, love.”

You roll your eyes, “well, let me ask a question then. Why are you even offering this bet when you’re not even gaining anything in the first place?”

“What do you mean? I can get you to shut up about the past me,” he says with the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel, and when you look over, you notice both his hands clutching the wheel unlike before.

And even though it’s something any decent person would do, you find yourself melting into a puddle of an unknown, undiscovered mess, because as much of a tough front this boy likes to put on, there’s been several times tonight where he’s shown the softer side of him; when he wrapped you in the warmth of his sweater, out of courtesy and respect for the vulnerable you in a see through white tee, and when he teases you in his car but nevertheless complies to your requests because of the fear which radiates from your shaky breath, everything he does might be overlooked by others, but you notice the underlying tone of it all.

“If that’s your goal, then you’re going to have to make this bet with every girl in this school and have them all swoon for you in the entire school. It’s not like I’m the only person who’s still talking about the old you—”

“Oh, but you are,” he reaffirms. “I don’t think you hear about the old dance captain around campus anymore, do you? In fact, I’m sure everyone thinks Jimin is the captain now—”

“That’s not true,” you blurt out in a louder voice than you meant to, biting your bottom lip and lowering your volume, “no one says that. Your position as the captain is indisputable…” Seeing the quirk of his brows at how positively you’re speaking of him, contrary to your past, irritated tone, you clear your throat, “...or at least it was. I-I don’t know. You’re probably not as great as you used to be anymore.”

“I guess you’re right. Jimin probably is way better than me by now,” he snorts at your remark, shrugging. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to notice the downturn of his lips and the way he presses them into thin lines. Everything he says doesn’t go without any backlash, and you know that… or at least you’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, a part of him longs for the bright lights on stage and the loud cheers and whistles from the audience. You’re about to apologize for your rash words when he turns his head to glance at you with those dark, brown eyes of his, and you’re suddenly stunned still. “...but that brings me to my second question. Why are you so interested in my past?”

“I’m not,” you defend yourself. “I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m interested, but rather… curious. I’d be fine getting on with my life without knowing your past.”

He presses his lips into a line, the adorable dimples appearing to contrast the smug look on his face, and nods his head as if there isn’t a word you say that he actually believes.

“What?” you breathe. “You don’t believe me? You actually think I’m that obsessed with you?”

He cinches his brows and glances at you with a suppressed smile, “I was just wondering, and don’t take this to heart, but were you one of those girls who liked to watch me during dance practice?”

“W-What?” your eyes pop open and your breathing gets caught on the knot in your throat, because technically speaking, you were indeed one of those girls.

Hoseok only chortles at your response, running a hand through his hair and returning them to the steering wheel. “As a way to thank you for spending so much time to support me from the back, if you really want to know why I quit dancing and left it all behind, long story short, everything we did tonight explains it all.”

“... I don’t get it,” you furrow your brows.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it?”

You bite your bottom lip before reluctantly admitting, “...somewhat.”

He rolls his eyes at your response, a scoff leaving his lips as he leans his head against his hand, propped against his side of the door. “And did those people in the library have any fun? Do you think people stuck in dance practice and pulling all nighters every other day have any fun? Don’t you think those people want to have a life too? Doesn’t everyone want to have fun?”

You frown at his explanation, because quite frankly, that’s the dumbest reason you’ve ever heard of. If someone really loved what they were doing, they’d be committed enough to bypass all the struggles and time crunches to do what they loved. And you firmly believe dancing is, or was, exactly just that for Hoseok. This doesn’t sound like the actual reason behind his absence in the club, no, this sounds like an excuse.

“That’s bullshit. I don’t believe you even for a second,” you spit, shaking your head as he raises a brow at you. “You liked dancing too much to just leave it like that.”

And before you know it, the car comes to a stop; the engine purrs into silence and your house lies right outside the passenger window as Hoseok takes a deep breath and sighs, leaning back into his seat while tiredly running a hand through his hair.

“You were asking why I’m making this bet with you, right?” Hoseok cocks his head at you, leaning it against the window with his eyes peering down at you.

“Yeah…?”

“Well, turns out you’re not the only one trying to find out about something,” he states, tapping his fingers against the gear stick, “because it seems like to me, you know a lot more than you let on, and I’m interested in finding that out.”

Your eyes are locked with his, the two of you challenging each other in a silent feud against whatever the other is trying to hide, but when you finally spoke, the duel comes to a temporary end.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out then, because I don’t plan on ever falling for someone like you.”

Hoseok just chuckles at your response, reaching his hand out towards you for you to shake with a wink, “alright then, Ms. Inexperienced, I guess we’ll just have to see who’s the real heart breaker.”

A buzz vibrates against your head and snaps you out of your daydream as you grab your phone and try to fan your burning cheeks with your hands.

Junghwa [8:11 PM] Y/N!!! How could you leave me alone with Hani?!?!

8:11 pm.

You suddenly jump out of bed when your eyes pop open, your mind dizzy at the rush of blood flowing down to your feet and running wild at the sight of the time brazen across your phone screen. You just spent one and a half hours daydreaming about your time with the one and only Jung Hoseok. And the more you reminisce over his last words and the flirtatious wink he gave you, utterly confident that he, in fact, is much more “experienced” and “active” in the sexual side of his life to be the true heartbreaker—as if that’s actually a good thing—the more your cheeks scorch with heat and you can barely breathe in the musty room of your house.

Another series of buzzes vibrates against your hand.

Junghwa [8:12 PM] Just kidding~

Junghwa [8:13 PM] I heard you’re sick, so Hani and I are coming over to your house in ten minutes with food!

Junghwa [8:14 PM] Prepare to binge watch some dramas!!!~

Of course your two best friends would be kind enough to bring over some food for the bed stricken one, or perhaps, Junghwa’s last text confirms their true intentions of catching up on some dramas only you had subscription to. Whatever it is, you change into a pair of shorts and tee when you spot Hoseok’s sweatshirt draped over the armrest of the chair by your desk, the only sweatshirt you have available in the house, as the rest are in the washers.

You’re not really going to wear his sweater…are you, you question yourself. It isn’t much of an exaggeration to say that it’s literally freezing outside, and walking out in a t-shirt would practically ensure you an even worse cold to come—something you can’t afford considering the upcoming tests—so without much thought and lots of curiosity, you throw on his sweater only to be bombarded by the pleasant scent of him—Old Spice, clean cut and fresh with the tinge of cinnamon and peppermint.

And as if right on cue, another notification comes buzzing through your phone.

Ew, Hoseok [8:17 PM] I heard you’re sick?

Ew, Hoseok [8:18 PM] Want me to come over with some food?

No, the last thing you want is for him to come over and catch you with his sweatshirt on.

Ew, Hoseok [8:19 PM] I know you’re reading this, and I know you aren’t going to reply. So I’ll be coming over in fifteen.

In fifteen? Aren’t Junghwa and Hani also coming over in ten?

Your eyes widen and your feet begin to scramble out of your house when you realize your friends are going to somehow bump into Hoseok, a situation which you don’t want to explain to your friends about regarding how and why the infamous Hoseok is in your house. But after texting several times to both Hoseok, who only reads your texts but mischievously refuses to answer, and Junghwa, who probably doesn’t even notice the vibrations of her phone in her back pocket, you figure you have to stop Junghwa at school, because there’s no way Hoseok would listen to your pleas—especially when all he’d be busy doing is smirking at the way you’re wearing his sweater. And now that you think of it, there’s something else you have to take care of at school, too.

Stumbling into the familiar halls of your school, you’re fortunately able to encounter your two friends laughing and skipping down the halls right off the bat.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re alive!” Junghwa chimes, running to you and preparing to pounce only to have her motions halted by your arms which grips at her shoulders.

“Hey,” you breathe and smile, completely out of breath.

“Why are you in such a hurry? Do you miss us that much?” Junghwa giggles, tilting her head to laugh at your disheveled state. “We were on our way, you know. Sorry for being, like, two minutes late.”

“No, I-uh, actually,” you manage to say in between breaths, “have something to do.”

Hani comes walking up from behind Junghwa with raised brows, “what’re you doing here? I thought you were sick?”

You glance between your two friends, trying to formulate some sort of excuse as to why you had ran out of your house with your red nose and flip flops—especially in this freezing weather. But as your mind scuffles for an explanation, you find yourself staring at the three very people you’re looking for as a side mission—Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung; other than explaining what on earth you’re up to at school, there’s a scolding waiting to be let out to those three boys milling around at the end of the hall.

“I have to do something really quick… I don’t think I can hang out tonight. Let’s all crash at my house another day, alright?” you mumble, walking past your confused friends before whirling around to wave them goodbye. “I’m sorry! Really! Let’s watch some TV tomorrow! And don’t go to my house tonight!”

“Y/N! What’re you talking about?” Junghwa calls out to you.

“Where are you going?” Hani questions.

“I’m sorry, I’ll explain everything tomorrow!” you apologize, giving them one last wave and turning around to jog down the hall until Junghwa and Hani shrug it off and turn down the opposite side of the hall.

As you jog down the familiar pathway leading to the dance club’s practice room, Taehyung is the first one who catches sight of you with pleasantly surprised eyes, the other, however, stare with frightened, wide eyes.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here!” Taehyung chirps, waving his hand at you.

Crossing your arms and letting out one loud huff, you stand before the three, completely unamused by their welcome.

“Haha… Y/N… you’re here,” Jungkook smiles weakly.

“Yeah, welcome back,” Jimin mumbles with a shaky, hesitant laugh.

“Wanna help us with some boot camp paperwork?” Taehyung asks and the other two shoot darting death glares at him. “Wait, what?”

“No, I don’t want to help you with ‘paperwork,’” you tap your foot against the ground. “Because last time, paperwork meant spending time with a certain someone and not actual paperwork!”

“Y/N, we’re sorry!” Jungkook drops onto the floor along with Jimin, the two of them grabbing your arm and pleading for forgiveness as Taehyung cluelessly joins them. “We’re desperate to have our captain back! The boot camp and showcase are coming up, and without Hoseok, we’re barely getting enough sleep for preparations!”

You roll your eyes, “you could’ve just told me and we could’ve figured out some plan, because literally nothing came out of yesterday. He ignored me every time I brought up the club.”

“Oh…” the three of them throw shifty glances at each other, unsure of what to do now that their last resort has gone to waste. “Well… will you at least forgive us…?”

Pursing your lips, you shrug before attempting to turn away only to have the three of them pull you back around.

“We actually brought someone here for you!” Taehyung blurts out and you quirk a brow. Jungkook and Jimin follow along with Taehyung, placing their hands on your shoulder and gently ushering you towards the entrance of the practice room.

And to your surprise, the first thing you see elicits a flash of memories rewinding up from present day all the way back to that one regretful day where things could have changed drastically; because standing right there is the previous dance captain, not Hoseok, but Keiko.

“You’ve wanted to ask her some stuff, right? You’ll forgive us now, right?” Taehyung begs, swinging your hand back and forth.

Glaring at the three boys staring at you with wide eyes and pouty lips akin to a puppy, you take a deep breath and sigh. “I was just joking around. I’m not that mad at you guys, and I don’t actually need to talk to her—”

“Hello,” the girl greets enthusiastically with her sleek, velvety voice. She glances over as she goes over her usual stretching routine. With her short hair which brushes just a few inches above her shoulders, you can see the toned muscles of hers from under her black sports bra and above her black leggings. If this is the girl Hoseok is rumored to have a crush on, utilizing you to elicit some jealous response from, then you aren’t too surprised. She’s perfect and intimidating in every way… except for when she speaks, because the moment she welcomes you, an outsider of the club, you’re reminded of the bright smile Hoseok had once welcomed you in with. “Is there something I can help you with that those few gentlemen can’t?”

“Oh, um—”

“Go on, go on, we believe in you, Y/N!” the three boys from behind you whisper before gently pushing you into the room and closing the door shut behind you.

You’re just about to whirl around and give the mischievous boys a good smack on the back when a raspy chuckle comes tumbling from Keiko’s lips. “Ah, don’t mind those boys. They’re a little bit out of their minds right now because of camp preparations. I’ve heard things are going a bit rough around here, so I decided to drop in and help,” she smiles at you, “but I see things are going better than I thought now that you’re around.”

“Ah, no… I don’t really do much…” you press your lips shut and hide your fidgeting hands behind your back.

She raises her brows curiously, “oh? Well, they seem a lot more cheerful around you. It’s almost like they’re around Hoseok—”

“That’s,” you nearly cut her off and she glances at you with wide eyes, encouraging you to continue. “That’s… actually what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Well, then ask away.”

“I-um…” you beat around the bush, gulping when you notice how her eyes never left your shifty ones. “I was just wondering what happened to Hoseok.”

“What happened to him?”

“Why he left… or why he’s not dancing anymore,” you reiterate. Peering up at her, you find Keiko staring blankly at you as if looking for an answer to a question the three boys have probably already asked her several times before.

After a deep breath, she sighs, “I don’t know. You’re going to have to ask him that.”

“Are you still in contact with him…?”

“...yes,” Keiko replies after a few seconds of silence.

The clock ticks in the background and you’re not sure if the pounding of your panicking heart echoes along in the thin air. Everything about her intently watchful eyes and her short answers tell you there’s something wrong about this entire situation. Whether you’re invading personal privacy or she’s uncomfortable with this topic, you’re unsure of; but there’s one thing you know for certain: the transition of her mien between warmth to cold tells you there’s not much to prod further.

“I mean… can’t you ask him what’s up? Or help him with anything…?” you hesitantly ask.

“Are you one of those girls who used to watch him dance by the door every now and then?” Keiko suddenly questions and you look up at her with wide eyes. “Do you know him personally?”

“I… sort of do.”

“Well,” she tries to explain, “there’s not much I can do, really. I can ask him what’s wrong, but what do I do after that? He’ll come back when he’s ready. If he’s truly a dancer, then he’ll eventually find his way back to the stage. I don’t think he needs anyone to remind him or push him. If he’s ready to move on, then shouldn’t we, too?”

She’s right and Hoseok’s right.

Maybe you really are the only one buried in the past. Maybe you do need to move on. Maybe you’re the only one stuck in the shadows of the passing sun, a bygone which has yet to be seen in the near future—or perhaps, a bygone long past and set and carved and etched into history. And if you don’t move on from the past and into the present, perhaps you’ll just become another bygone of the ever rising and setting sun.

Everything she says points in that very direction, that you need to move on and stop fiddling with things of the past. But when she speaks her next few words, there’s a hint in her voice that tells you otherwise, that tells you to hold on because there’s no one but you who can.

“But hey, who knows. Maybe he really does need someone. Maybe he needs you. I hope you’ll stay by his side, and when the time really comes, when he needs someone to hold onto for dear life because time just never seems to stop and all he needs is something steady to hold him up, I hope you’ll be that very pillar he needs to bring himself back up onto his feet and finally confront the past the both of you so want.”

She walks her way to the door while tying her hair up, allowing the boys to enter the room, but not without grinning at you with an edge of hope etched into her statement and leaving you cluelessly behind.

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genesisrose74 · 4 years

Text

Hinata Shoyo x Reader: Good Unexpected

Hello there! This is the first time I’ve ever posted any of my writing, so I hope you enjoy reading! I had a really fun time writing about my favorite ray of sunshine and may or may not have gotten carried away with the word count whoops :P Constructive feedback or just comments in general are welcome~

Word count: 6600

Warning(s): None

Another close win for Karasuno’s male volleyball team had a crowd on their feet and a roar echoing throughout the building. There were five volleyball courts in the structure, but none had a more rambunctious crowd in that moment than the once Flightless Crows. The match wasn’t an all too significant one, but it claimed the boys another opportunity to play in this charity tournament, and that’s all they needed to keep their drive going. In the chaos of cheering students, players on break, family members, and those who had simply been enraptured by the match, a duo of young females ushered out muffled apologies of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ more times than they could count as they edged their way through. A short blonde stuck closely beside her fellow classmate in the sea of people, letting out a breath of relief upon seeing a gap to a less crowded section of the stadium.

“Yachi, could you text Kiyoko and tell her we’re on our way? Takinoue and Shimada said they’d take care of the banner since the next match is tomorrow,” you instructed.

“Sure thing,” Yachi replied with a small nod, fishing her phone from her back pocket.

You both continued your move down a set of stairs, searching for the main entrance to court three, on which Karasuno had just played.

“Hey, I think I see Tsukishima by the water fountain over there! The rest of the boys must be close by.” Yachi gestured to the slim middle blocker, donning the unmistakable Karasuno High VBC sweatshirt each player was given at the beginning of the season.

“Yeah, that’s him for sure! Good eye, Yachi!” you acknowledged.

Jogging over to the towering blonde, you flashed him a warm smile in greeting. Tsukishima replied with a brief nod, his usual hello.

“Hey, Tsukki! Where’s the rest of the boys?” you inquired, now used to Tsukishima’s little expressed enthusiasm, even after a victory.

“Daichi, Sugawara and Ennoshita are checking out the standings for who we’ll face off against tomorrow, Yamaguchi is in the bathroom, and the dumbasses who share one brain cell went to check if the snack bar was open. I have no clue where the rest of them ended up,” Tsukishima listed, scrolling through his phone.

Yachi giggled at his last description of what you could only assume to be Tanaka, Nishinoya, Hinata, and likely Kageyama. Those boys had a way of getting into the stupidest situations, and their immense distaste for anything school related made their title quite fitting, although it was safe to say that you had a soft spot for the knuckleheads - especially one in particular.

“Speak of the devil,” Tsukishima stated as he looked up from his device. Sure enough, two of said boys had returned from their little food run with bags of snacks in hand. Tanaka had already ripped open a package of beef jerky, two of the sticks stuffed in his mouth as he spoke incoherent words to his fellow second year teammate, Nishinoya.

“Hey boys!” you waved enthusiastically. “Nice win today!”

Upon seeing you, Nishinoya and Tanaka gasped simultaneously, the remaining jerky in the latter’s mouth falling onto the floor. You could see a grossed out Tsukishima cringe in your peripheral vision, but you didn’t really mind the duo’s antics at this point.

As everyone knows, Kiyoko was the team manager, an absolute goddess to all, and the master of avoiding the flirty nature of any guy she came across. It was evident that she had a huge effect on the rambunctious second years, two of them in particular melting any time they were given the slightest bit of attention (affectionate or otherwise) - and she could even pull a reaction out of the calmest of boys, including the ever respectful and reserved Karasuno captain from time to time.

However, despite a deep infatuation for the beautiful third year female, the team had been introduced to a new kind of character in the past year that had thrown Nishinoya and Tanaka into a frenzy: a competitive yet kindhearted first year student who just so happened to be a volleyball player herself: you.

You had arrived in the boy’s gymnasium one afternoon, on the day of the week that the Karasuno girl’s team had practice off. You were hoping to find some tasks or drills to help out with, just to keep yourself active during your free time after school. Since Coach Ukai always appreciated an extra set of hands, especially some that held experience, you began appearing as a regular during Wednesday practices, and the team took a quick liking to you.

Despite your focus and intensity whenever you were on the court, you were almost always there with an encouraging word or bright smile if the Karasuno boys ever needed, and your consistent sweetness caused many players to view you in a similar manner as Kiyoko. While the more reserved Kiyoko Shimizu was more or less dismissive of the constant attention she would get from boys, you were always happy to jump in and boost the team with your enthusiastic words and actions.

Nishinoya briefly brought up that he likes when girls compliment his hair? You make a little mention of how good it looks at the end of practice that day. Tanaka isn’t feeling particularly happy with his spikes? You’re sure to compliment him extra when he gets a shot off that he likes. Yamaguchi gets frustrated with his jump floaters? You offer up a few words of encouragement to keep him going. Even after practice is over and it’s just a normal day that you can spend time with the team, you happily accepted the compliments and the affection you received from the boys - specifically Nishinoya and Tanaka. Of course, you never lead them on or anything of the sort; you’re all just very close friends.

It was an interesting dynamic to say the least, but the differing personalities of you and the team manager Shimizu had two second year boys going wild to get your attention.

But, the two troublemakers had discovered who you had your sights set on pretty quickly.

“N/n! I didn’t realize you came to watch today!” Nishinoya grinned, quickly making his way over and wrapping his arms around your midsection. You laughed and placed a hand on the libero’s head, patting his hair gently.

“Hi, Nishi,” you smiled. “Of course I came to see you all. I couldn’t miss watching my favorite libero in action, now could I?”

“How did you think we did? Wasn’t that an awesome last set?” Tanaka joined in the conversation, giving you a side hug in greeting.

“Yeah, it was pretty exciting to watch!” you agreed. “I’m all for the heart pounding matches, so long as you boys keep winning at the end of them.”

“You know we will!” Nishinoya smiled up at you.

“I do know that,” you affirmed before looking around the space. “Tsukishima mentioned something about you and some of the other boys getting snacks, but right now it’s just you two. Where’s the rest of your little group of mischief-makers at?”

“Kageyama stopped by a vending machine to buy some milk. He said it was cheaper than the prices at the snack bar.” Tanaka clarified.

“Hinata decided to stick with him to talk about the team we’re likely playing tomorrow, but they shouldn’t be far behind us.” Nishinoya concluded, a small grin playing at his lips. “Speaking of which, didn’t Hinata do pretty great, N/n? You should tell him how good he looked doing those quick attacks out on the floor today.”

You stuck your tongue out at the boy who still had his arms secured around you.

“Very funny, Nishi.” you pouted. “At this point you’re not even trying to be discreet.”

Nishinoya was the first player on the team to pick up on your attraction to Karasuno’s prized decoy. You had nearly walked into the wall of the school gymnasium while shagging volleyballs during a hitting drill, watching intently as Hinata did his approach before jumping and slamming the ball onto the other side of the court with ease. It would have been incredibly embarrassing if anyone else had witnessed your distracted movements, but fortunately Nishinoya was the only one to see, and had prevented you from smacking straight into the side of the building.

Initially, the libero thought the mishap was merely because you didn’t want to get nailed by Kageyama and Hinata’s quick attacks, but then he watched you nearly choke on your water when Hinata tossed his practice shirt off the same night, leaving the you to gape in silent astonishment as the middle blocker searched for a less sweaty replacement. Since Nishinoya was already quite close to you at the time, he was quick to corner you about the instance and declared himself an unofficial wing-man when you admitted you had feelings for the ginger.

He may or may not have let the secret slip to Tanaka one night when the three of you were walking home - and then profusely apologized to the point where tears visibly brimmed in his eyes - but Tanaka promised that he wouldn’t say anything to Hinata. Besides, even if he did make a not-so-subtle mention about you to the aspiring ace, you doubted that the dense boy would even understand Tanaka’s implications.

Little did you know, you were just as oblivious as Hinata when it came to people crushing on you. And the two second years beside you knew much more than you did.

“Awe, you look so cute when you get all pouty,” Nishinoya chuckled, reaching up to tap you on the nose.

“Oh, hush. Don’t make me bring up the time when you went completely rigid after Kiyoko-senpai gave you a high five at the scrimmage against Nekoma last month,” you countered.

“Don’t you mean the greatest moment of my entire life?”

“Wow, I’m hurt that she gets a higher placement than me in that regard.”

Despite being quite a bit shorter than you, Nishinoya easily hoisted you a few inches in the air and spun around, eliciting a surprised yelp on your part.

“Nishi, put me down!” you squealed, albeit laughing while doing so.

“You know how much I love you. Kiyoko might be my queen, but you’re definitely an angel sent to grace us with your presence!” he declared playfully.

The libero gently placed his friend back on the floor, a lopsided grin on his face as she ruffled his hair fondly.

“I know, and I love you too, little Guardian Deity.” you conceded. “Now, show me what kind of snacks you bought. I forgot to grab money before I left the house, so I could use some food.”

“You got it!” Tanaka opened up his backpack filled with goodies and offered it out to you. “Take your pick. We stocked up on a lot of food to munch on for the team meeting later today.”

“Speaking of which, you should come and sit in on that! I’m sure the rest of the guys would like to see you,” Nishinoya added.

“Actually I was already planning on going,” you mentioned while acquiring a bag of pretzels from Tanaka’s stash. “I texted Kiyoko that I was going to be here today, and she said that if you boys got another win that I should come to the meeting.”

“Sweet!” Tanaka exclaimed. “Since it’s not all that late, some of us were thinking about having a small practice in the gym after. If you had the time, it would be fun to have you stick around and maybe play if you wanted.”

“That sounds like fun!” you smiled, “just make sure you all don’t tire yourselves out completely before tomorrow’s game.”

Tanaka gasped dramatically, “We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“-I’m just saying that you have a serious obsession with milk, Kageyama. It’s almost unhealthy.”

“Milk is a good source of calcium, you dumbass. So what if I drink a lot of it?”

“If you had the chance to marry a carton of milk, you absolutely would.”

“Would you shut up already?”

Two voices bickered back and forth as they approached the area near your little group. To anyone even barely associated with Karasuno’s volleyball team, these two arguing idiots would be easy to recognize from a mile away, and sure enough, a head of fluffy orange hair rounded the corner, quarreling with his dark haired teammate.

“Are they seriously having an argument about Kageyama and his milk?” Tanaka questioned.

“I’m honestly not even surprised at this point,” you sighed.

“Hey, morons!” Tanaka yelled at the two boys, who snapped their heads in the direction of their senpai’s distinct voice. “Quit fighting with each other and get the hell over here!”

You could feel your stomach flip involuntarily. Despite seeing the aspiring Karasuno ace many times during Wednesday practices and around school, it was always a sight to behold whenever he was suited up in the official team uniform. Hinata always got into these moments of intense focus during matches, which you deeply admired, and you affiliated such occasions with the jersey he always donned during each game. The look quickly became one of your favorites, but that piece of information was never shared with the boys. Only Kiyoko and Yachi knew about that secret preference, which they had promised to never bring up near any of the Karasuno team.

You were thrown out of your stupor when Nishinoya nudged you knowingly, a single eyebrow raised in a playful challenge. You only scoffed and shook your head, giving the libero a little nudge in return.

“Such a schemer, Nishi.” you murmured.

“You’re such a scaredy-cat.” he muttered in response. “Go compliment him about the game or something, you do it all the time with me and Tanaka.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Excuses, excuses~”

You huffed in exasperation, sparing another look at the little ray of sunshine with which you were so enamored. At this distance, the boy was close enough to recognize you, and you felt a gentle smile grow on your face when warm brown eyes met your own. You offered him a small wave in greeting, as you both were still a ways away from each other.

Hinata was quick to close that distance upon seeing you from across the hallway, making a beeline for the familiar girl that he had grown to love seeing walk through the gymnasium doors every week. He was glad to see you whenever he got the chance; you were always there to help him and Kageyama practice a few more quick attacks after practice concluded, always ready to try a few serves of your own when the boys wanted to get in some extra receives, always happy to help the young decoy with his studies when a particularly difficult exam was near. Not to mention, he found you to be the prettiest person out of his entire class of first years, so that was a plus.

The whole team may or may not know about Hinata’s very obvious affections, despite the boy not telling a single soul about the way his heart goes bwah!! whenever he thinks about you. Tanaka and Nishinoya found the entire ordeal utterly agonizing, being the only two boys on the team knowledgeable of your own feelings, and being sworn to secrecy about that fact. The Karasuno manager and the manager-in-training also knew the irony of the situation, but they didn’t dare meddle in your love life.

If your friends were all being honest with themselves, as torturous as it was to watch you two timid first years dance around each other’s feelings all the time, it was also incredibly adorable to watch your interactions. The usually loud and energetic middle blocker would lose all sense of function every time you would praise his game play, to the point where Kageyama had to kick his teammate from behind to get him to focus again. Hinata swore he nearly ascended when you had launched into his arms after beating Shiratorizawa in the Spring High Finals.

Yet, despite these moments of mutually lingering gazes and light blushes that often dusted both of your faces, the ginger rationalized that you acted this way towards every player on the team, and brushed such encounters with you off as nothing but platonic. He didn’t mind simply being friends, if that's all he could be. He was content so long as he got to be near you.

“Hey, Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming to watch the game today,” Hinata addressed you with a smile that put a blazing summer sun to shame.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! The student council meeting ended up being shorter than expected, so I called Kiyoko and let her know that I was on my way,” you explained. You then turned to Kageyama, who had eventually made his way over to the small group. “Nice game today, Kags. That one set you sent to Asahi in the second match from behind the attack line was insane.”

Karasuno’s starting setter nodded in acknowledgement of the commendation. “Thank you.”

Tanaka and Nishinoya, now standing next to their two teammates, aggressively attempted to gesture to Hinata with their eyes; a silent urge to get you to say something to the boy.

“And I think that one super fast quick attack you guys pulled off in the final set was really cool,” you tagged on. “It’s always fun to see the other team’s reactions whenever that happens.”

The two second years shot you a deadpan look. That’s not exactly what they meant, but they could see you struggling to string together any coherent sentence to your crush and decided not to press any further. You just couldn’t help it! You wanted to tell the present ray of sunshine that he played a great game, that he always played amazingly, despite his occasionally awkward receives or missed serves. He always gave each match 110%, and you wanted to express to him just how phenomenal he was, but just couldn’t find the right words without the fear of sounding completely obsessive and embarrassing. Nishinoya and Tanaka both glanced at each other, a silent agreement occurring between them in a matter of seconds.

Unlike Yachi and Kiyoko, the two boys weren’t opposed to a little meddling.

“Y/n is going to come to the meeting and maybe stay for that extra practice time we have planned,” Nishinoya mentioned, saving you from trying (and failing) to say anything else.

Hinata’s eyes lit up at the news. “For real? That’s great!”

The middle blocker enjoyed your presence at the Wednesday practices you’d attend, especially since it was where he got to witness your competitive and athletic side. So, getting to see more of that was welcomed any time.

You nodded in affirmation and popped a miniature pretzel in your mouth. “And since I was just dropped off at the complex and kind of need a ride, Kiyoko said that there was plenty of room for me to go back on the bus.”

“Hell yeah there is!” Tanaka grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “You can sit with me and Nishinoya, duh.”

You smiled up at him. “Well obviously. Who else would I sit with?”

Nishinoya cheered, picking his game bag off the floor and gently grasping your hand. “Well let’s go find the others, then! Coach Ukai is probably getting impatient waiting for us at this point,” the libero insisted, pulling you towards the doorway of the building with Tanaka in tow.

“Alright, alright! Don’t make me drop my pretzels, Nishi,” you warned, letting yourself get dragged by the excited teen.

Hinata, Kageyama, and Tsukishima also started to gather their things to get on the bus, Yamaguchi doing the same after exiting the bathroom not long before the previous trio ran off to claim their seats. Tsukishima looked over at Hinata, who still had his eyes glued to the door from which his friends had just left, and seized the opportunity to try to get under Hinata’s skin just a little.

“Nishinoya and her are pretty close, don’t you think?” he mentioned briefly, before turning on his heel towards the doorway with Yamaguchi beside him. The pinch server spared a glance back at Hinata as he fell into step with his childhood friend. “Tsukki…”

Now Nishinoya was clearly a close friend to Hinata, as both of the boys were big balls of energy all the time, and as they both shared an immense love for volleyball. Hinata acknowledged his teammate’s tight knit relationship with you, and he was totally okay with that fact. But occasionally, the middle blocker would get a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had never really experienced before as he watched you interact with some of the boys on the team. It wasn’t an excessive amount of instances, but that feeling would bubble up from time to time - most notably when you would spend time with Karasuno’s libero. And whatever that feeling was, Hinata didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Oi, you coming, dumbass?” Kageyama questioned, snapping the ginger out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m coming, Bakeyama,” the middle blocker replied, readjusting his backpack and following Kageyama to the door.

******

The team was glad to see that you had come to watch them play, and you were quick to praise the boys on their well fought match. The ride back to school was relatively quiet, as many of the players wanted to either relax and listen to music or take a quick nap after their tiring game. As the bus continued on its route to Karasuno High School, it was evident that the energy and adrenaline felt earlier in the complex had calmed down, the boys given a chance to rest from the day’s events.

You, Nishinoya and Tanaka were seated near the back of the bus, with Hinata and Kageyama in the adjacent row. Tanaka was out like a light, his face pressed against the cool window next to him, while Nishinoya was struggling to get situated in the spot beside his teammate. From the corner of his eye, the libero could see Hinata sneaking subtle glances at you, as you unsuspectingly gazed at the passing scenery. With a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips, Nishinoya decided to kill two birds with one stone: try to help out with his friends’ crushes, and try to get himself a more comfortable napping spot.

“Hey, would you mind doing me a favor?” Nishinoya asked you in a soft tone, but just loud enough for the boy on the other side of the aisle to hear. You turned your attention to the libero, tilting your head to the side. “Sure thing, Nishi. What do you need?”

“Could I maybe lie down on you? It’s been a little difficult to find a decent position to get comfortable in,” he asked sheepishly. “If not, I totally get it.”

You smiled at the light pink that dusted his cheeks, and you patted your lap. “It’s alright, go ahead. You deserve to get some rest.”

Nishinoya offered you a smile of his own. He placed his legs over Tanaka’s snoozing form, knowing that his friend wouldn’t mind as they had been in similar positions on previous team bus rides. He then placed his head gently in your lap, gazing up at you before speaking up once more. “Thank you. You’re seriously the best.”

“It’s not a problem at all,” you waved it off.

The libero closed his eyes, sighing contentedly when he felt your hand brush through his hair. You absentmindedly hummed the soothing melody to a lullaby as you let your fingers carefully undo any tangles on his head. You paid special attention to the blonde streaks of hair that you always told the second year you adored, twirling the strands between your fingers and letting them fall back into place.

You were completely ignorant to the fact that the boy on the other end of the aisle felt a burning envy in his stomach as he witnessed the display from his peripheral vision. Your voice, which would have mesmerized Hinata under any other circumstance, did nothing to ease the emotions licking at his insides like unpleasant tendrils of flame. He desperately wanted to be able to sidle up next to you, wanted to feel your hands weave gently through his messy ginger hair. The fact that it wasn’t him made Hinata feel nauseous - worse than how he felt before a big game.

Because although Hinata was absolutely fine with you being close to the boys on his team, it didn’t mean he couldn’t get jealous.

Seated beside the middle blocker, Kageyama took note of his friend’s clenched fists and slightly tightened jaw, a stark contrast to Hinata’s usual happy-go-lucky enthusiasm. One look at the opposite side of the bus blatantly explained why. Kageyama was confused, though; Nishinoya knew just as much as the rest of the team that the decoy had his sights set on you, so why was he disregarding that fact right in front of him? The libero either didn’t realize what he was doing would upset his friend, or he knew exactly what he was up to. Was the whole thing intentional?

*****

Ohhh, it absolutely was. Kageyama figured that much out as soon as the team meeting started.

Nishinoya had been occasionally looking at Hinata to gauge the boy’s reaction, being careful not to overstep his boundaries, but pushing it just enough to see if the ginger would step in and make a move on you. From what Kageyama could tell, Tanaka was also in on this plan, but the wing spiker let his fellow second year handle most of the interactions with the brunette.

You were settled next to Kiyoko on the gymnasium floor, sitting with your legs stretched out as you listened in on the meeting. Nishinoya had his head resting on your shoulder the entire time, only shifting from his spot to steal more snacks from Tanaka’s backpack. If it weren’t for what Hinata had witnessed in the bus earlier that evening, he likely would have thought nothing of the second year’s actions. But now it was all he could think about, barely even focusing on the words coming out of Coach Ukai’s mouth. That feeling in his gut still hadn’t left him alone.

His discomfort was even more apparent when a number of the boys stayed behind after the meeting for some extra practice. Sugawara, who was the only third year who decided to postpone his walk home (mostly to keep an eye on his rambunctious children juniors), helped divide the group of six players into teams. Kageyama, Nishinoya, and Tanaka were on one team of three, while Suga, Hinata, and you were on the other. Despite the fact that he was on the same team as you, the middle blocker was still in a distant mood, and this showed when he completely botched the first two sets Suga tossed to him.

“Are you alright, Hinata? You seem a bit off at the moment,” you spoke softly behind him. When the ginger didn’t answer, she frowned slightly. “Shoyo…”

His first name coming from you had Hinata’s face heating up, not just because he loved the way his first name sounded on your lips, but because he was embarrassed. His bitter emotions had completely messed up his game, and caused him to practically ignore your concerned inquiry.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just a little tired is all,” he brushed it off. “I‘ll be good to go now that I’ve warmed up a bit.”

“Oh, okay. Tell me if you need some water or anything, your face looks hot.” You instantly flushed at the choice of words. “I mean, it looks warm! Like a red - you know what I mean.”

Tanaka snickered at your stammering, and you shot him a glare of annoyance before turning on your heel to retrieve the volleyball that had rolled away from the group.

After that, the three-on-three game went pretty smoothly. Hinata was in a better mood, working well together with his two partners. You even got a few good spikes in during the match (although a majority of them were thwarted by Karasuno’s Guardian Deity). Before you all realized it, the moon was shining brightly in the sky, and Suga instructed everyone to go home and get rest in preparation for tomorrow’s first game. After putting back the equipment the group had borrowed from the storage room, you were on your way out the gym doors, until the voices of Tanaka and Nishinoya stopped you midway.

“Wait up, Y/n!” The libero called out to her. You turned her attention towards him, a soft smile resting on your face after the impromptu practice.

“There’s no way you’re walking home all by yourself at this time of night.” Tanaka declared firmly, and Nishinoya nodded his head vigorously.

“I’ll be fine, you guys. Besides, neither of you live all that close to me, so it would be unreasonable of you to walk me home,” you told them.

“Well, doesn’t Hinata live in the same area as you do? Why doesn’t he walk you home?” Nishinoya suggested.

On the other end of the gym, Hinata had caught wind of the conversation. The ginger’s head perked up at the idea of accompanying you home, and standing beside him, Kageyama finally realized what the two second years had been up to the whole day. You narrowed your eyes at the boys in suspicion, but you couldn’t deny that it was a good idea to have someone else with you at this hour. You gazed over at your fellow first years, finding that Hinata was already looking your way, and a light shade of pink dusted your face.

“I mean, if he wouldn’t mind it, I suppose it would probably be smart,” you shrugged.

“It’s not a problem at all,” he uttered out.

Tanaka and Nishinoya shared a sly grin. This was the most that the two could do for their two dense kohais, so the rest was up to you both.

“If you’re uh, ready to go, my bike is just outside,” Hinata sputtered.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m good to go,” you responded with an awkward thumbs up that you mentally smacked yourself for.

“Don’t go having too much fun now,” Tanaka smirked. “He’s still gotta play tomorrow.”

His raised eyebrows and overall suggestive expression were met with a playful smack on the arm.

“Shut up, you big weirdo,” you scoffed, and before any more comments could be made by your two dorks of friends, you rushed out the gym door after Hinata.

Seeing the boy waiting outside for you, his fiery orange hair illuminated by the glimmering starlight like a cliche movie scene, you nearly tripped on the staircase by the school’s entrance. When he turned to you with an easy smile, your heart practically busted out of your chest. Damn him and his cute face.

You approached him at the gate and readjusted the bag on your shoulders, trying to remain calm at the realization that you were going to be alone with her favorite ray of sunshine. Beginning on the path up the hill, Hinata decides to push his bike alongside him in order to stay closer to you.

“I didn’t realize you lived that close to me until Noya said something tonight,” the middle blocker mentioned.

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? I’m surprised you haven’t been over before.”

“Maybe I should come visit sometime.” Hinata’s eyes widened at the implication and quickly added, “Like, with the rest of the team!”

You laughed softly. “That sounds like fun.”

You both walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Hinata spoke up.

“So, does that mean Nishinoya has been over to your place before?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s been over a few times now,” you confirmed.

“Oh, that's cool.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his response, his voice laced with what you could only recognize as disappointment.

“Why do you ask?” you inquired.

“Well, you both just seemed really close is all.” The first year ran a hand through his hair. “Even Tsukishima noticed.”

“Well, Nishi and I are really good friends, and we know a lot about each other, so I guess that’s an accurate description.”

Hinata glanced at you and titled his head a fraction, which you thought made him look like an adorable little puppy.

“Really good...friends?” he murmured.

You nodded affirmatively. “Yeah, he’s like an older brother. Did you think we were dating or something?” you laughed. You meant it as a joke, but when the boy didn’t reply, your eyes widened a fraction and you stopped walking.

“You thought me and Nishi were, like, together together?” you gaped.

At this point Hinata was burning red. He nodded bashfully, and you fell into fits of giggles, placing your hands on your knees for support.

“H-hey! It was a justified question!” Hinata defended himself. “He fell asleep on you in the bus today and it looked like a normal thing for you two, so I just figured!”

You stood straight and composed yourself, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you started walking again.

“As much as I love Nishinoya, we’re definitely not dating,” you explained. “It’s a platonic relationship, nothing more.”

Hinata mentally celebrated at the confirmation that there was nothing going on between you and the libero, although he was embarrassed beyond words at this point in the conversation.

“I’m super sorry!! I just thought- I shouldn’t have assumed,” he apologized, scratching the back of his head.

“Awe, it’s okay, Shoyo. I guess we do act a bit like a couple sometimes, but...I’m not actually seeing anyone at the moment.” You added on without a second thought, “Nishi knows who I really like, though.”

Hinata frowned a bit at the latter sentence, but he remained in a better mood than before.

“So…do I know this person?” he inquired, feeling quite courageous himself.

You hummed, a blush creeping up your neck. “So what if you do?”

“Is it someone on the team?”

“Are we playing twenty questions or something now?” you laughed nervously.

Stupid! Why did I even mention anything in the first place? you mentally cursed yourself.

The ginger felt his heart rate pick up. Out of hope or anxiety, he wasn’t exactly sure.

“What’s he like?” Hinata heard himself asking.

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the ironic inquiry, and decided to answer his question.

“He’s probably the most energetic person I’ve ever met, but in a good way. He’s really kind to everyone, even though he can get very competitive. While he’s not the most studious, I can tell he tries his hardest to do his best in everything he does. Not to mention he’s incredibly cute.” You chanced a glance at the intently staring first year for a brief moment before focusing your attention back on the sidewalk, thankful for the dim lights of the street. “Sometimes I find it just…so difficult to not mess with his hair, too. It’s so overwhelmingly fluffy.

Hinata let out a small sigh. He didn’t think there was any way he could compete with the special someone that you had described so fondly.

“Well, it sounds like you really like him,” he said simply, a halfhearted smile on his face. “He’s a really lucky guy, whoever he is.”

At his genuine tone, you raised her head to lock eyes with Hinata, who was looking at you with such an honest expression that your breath hitched in your throat. You slowed down in the middle of the empty walkway.

“It’s you, ya big dummy,” you admitted quietly, fiddling nervously with your sweatshirt sleeves.

Hinata heard it. You could tell that much from the way his eyes widened as he stopped dead in his tracks.

“It’s me?” he echoed.

You nodded once, not able to speak as you evaluated his reaction. Hinata clumsily pushed the kickstand of his bike down with wide eyes, maneuvering around it to step closer to you and examine your face, trying to determine if this was real or all in his head.

“I like you too. Like a lot,” he managed to confess, a delighted grin gracing his features.

You felt like you were dreaming and about to wake up at any moment, the urge to pinch yourself just for confirmation that this was all real itching at the back of your mind. But your train of coherent thought quickly dissipated when Hinata gingerly moved a hand up to your flushed cheek, brushing your jaw with his thumb and looking up with warm brown eyes.

“Could I kiss you?” he asked gently, voice barely above a whisper.

“Please do,” you conceded.

Hinata brushed his lips with yours, in a brief but sweet exchange. He did so the second time in the same manner to experiment, and again, just to confirm that this moment was actually happening, before all but backing you into the bike behind them as you tugged at the collar of his shirt. His lips were softer than expected, and you tasted the fruity flavor of what you assumed to be lip balm lingering on them. You could feel the boy grinning into the kiss, this one longer and firmer than their predecessors, and you eagerly tangled your fingers in his fluffy orange hair that was impossibly softer than imagined. His own hands found themselves planted firmly on your waist to secure you from losing balance, drawing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. Your entire body was buzzing with excitement, practically melting when Hinata traced your bottom lip with his tongue.

Hinata pulled away briefly to catch his breath, a fire blazing in his eyes that had you shying away from his gaze. He took a hand off of your waist and tilted your face back towards him with his index finger, a newfound confidence radiating off of the first year in droves that had you flushing darker than you thought possible.

“Shoyo,” you spoke his name softly, pulling a bit at the fiery strands of hair still twirled between your fingers. The little hum elicited from Hinata’s throat was one of your new favorite sounds.

“Please use my first name more often,” the boy breathed out, and you couldn’t help but laugh airily at the request, Hinata unable to suppress the satisfied smile that bloomed across his flushed face at the sound.

“That was… unexpected,” you murmured.

“Good unexpected?” the ginger inquired playfully.

“Very good unexpected,” you joked lightly.

Hinata wrapped you in a warm hug, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. You reciprocated the action, arms encircling around his figure, taking in everything that had happened with an enormous smile.

You might just have to thank Nishinoya later.

#hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu anime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshot #hinata fluff #hinata #hinata imagine #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyuo #hinata shouyo x reader #fluff

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xiaodejunletsact · 4 years

Text

launch | mark lee

word count: 25,916 (yikes)

genre: astronaut!au, 1960′s au, angst, fluff, some suggestive content but nothing too crazy, adventure, husband!au, father!au

warnings: death, near death experiences, a lot of crying, emotional baggage

author’s note: hi again!! so im back with a new fic!!i wanna start off by saying that this fic is not meant to belittle anyone’s accomplishments, even though it is based on real events this work is pure fiction, and should be taken as such. I hope you guys like this fic and i know its very long so if you get to the end just know that i love haha thank you!! also, its very possible that tublr will crash if this is opened n mobile so im sorry about that

synopsis: ever since he was a young boy, mark’s dream was to be the first man on the moon. along his journey to accomplish his dream, he finds there are many hardships would have to face in order to succesfully complete his mission and come back home to the love of his life.

Fall, 1949; 20 Years Before Launch

The music playing from the stereo settled in the corner of the living room travels all through the house, mixing with the sound of excited giggles and yelps of children as they play on the floor of Mark’s decorated home, where his eighth birthday party is in full swing.

The floor is covered in streamers and confetti, a pretty blue cake sits on a clothed table surrounded by bowls of candy, party hats and all types of cheap toys and goodies for the children to take.

The party was almost perfect, the only flaw being the absence of the birthday boy himself. Mark is currently nowhere to be seen. His mother sighs, having an idea where he could be.

The music can only be heard faintly from where Mark is. The melodies and instruments are replaced with hushed giggles and the thud of his small sock clad feet as he sneaks up to the attic of his house- where he knows his grandfather will be.

Once he climbs the ladder leading up to the attic, he peeks his head up to see his grandfather hunched over his desk, writing something down before leaning over to take another look out of the telescope that peers out of the open window next to him. The sight of the telescope brings the little boy’s mood up instantly, he had only used it once since his mother told him he couldn’t touch it because it was very expensive and grandpa would be very angry if he broke it. But grandpa can make an exception tonight, right?

It’s his birthday after all…

“Psst…”

Mark didn’t see this but a smile grazes his grandfather’s face as he hears his grandson’s attempt to get his attention. He decides to tease the boy and pretend not to hear him.

Seconds later, another hushed noise comes, “Psst… grandpa!”

This time, the old man can’t conceal his chuckle as he turns in his chair to see nothing but top of Mark’s head, his eyes and his little hands peeking over the attic entrance. The way Mark’s eyes scrunch is an indication that he is sporting a sheepish smile now that his grandfather has given him his attention. “Can I come in?”

The man chuckles once again before waving the little boy over, “Of course.”

Mark quickly climbs up once he had gotten the approval, making his way over to his grandfather’s desk in no time, where his grandfather picks his up and sets his small body on his lap. “Were you not enjoying your party?”

“I was! I just…” Mark can’t help but side eye the telescope next to the desk in hopes that his grandfather will get the message, which he does.

With a chuckle he says, “You wanted to come use the telescope?” The words are followed by eager nods from the boy who looks at his grandfather expectedly.

“Why don’t we then?”

Mark smiles widely before hopping off his lap and hopping to the telescope enthusiastically, his grandfather follows with a slight laugh, shaking his head at how excited his grandson was. (But still secretly glad that he is showing interest in something he himself cares so deeply for). The old man walks towards the telescope that leans half out of the small attic window, his grandson moves out of the way to let his grandfather to set the telescope for him.

Mark excitedly twiddles his thumbs excitedly while watching him, almost shrieking in excitement when his grandfather moves out of the way and tells him to take a look.

It's like an explosion. Of all different stars, colors and constellations all for Mark’s eyes to see. The moon peeks from the edge of his peripheral vision, asking for attention. Mark quietly asks his grandfather if he could move the telescope toward the moon.

When Mark’s eye is pressed against the telescope once again he can’t help but let out a gasp with a wondrous: “wow.”

The moon stares back at him, gloriously shining and brightening up the night even if it’s just a bit. Mark feels himself falling into a trance. The moon is mesmerizing, he wants to touch it.

“Grandpa?” Upon hearing a hum of acknowledgement from the old man, he continues. “Has anyone ever touched the moon before?”

His grandfather chuckles, “Not yet, kiddo.”

“Yet? So it’s possible?”

The man nods, “Absolutely. But it will take a long time to make that happen.”

Mark’s 8-year-old mind is sent reeling. It’s possible! Someone can actually touch the moon. One day at least. Mark doesn’t dare tell his grandfather, but he really really wants to be that someone.

Fall, 1958; 11 Years Before Launch

Now that he’s in high school, Mark realizes that going to the moon is a lot harder than his 8 year old mind had figured ten years ago.

While most expected Mark to grow out of this ridiculous dream before he reached high school and settle for something easier and more accessible, Mark knew there was no possible way that he was ever going to let go of his dream. Not when he knows where he’s meant to be. When he knows he’s meant for more than just earth, like his grandfather said all those years ago.

Although his sneakers drag on the cement of the ground in fatigue after having studied all night for an important AP Calc test he has today, he knows that one day all this hard work he put into getting straight A’s will be worth it when he finally achieves his dream and becomes the first man on the moon.

He sighs out before closing his locker, turning round only to bump into the girl he’s been admiring from afar for the past 6 years: you.

You’ve lived in the house across from him for your entire life with your grandparents and sister. Unlike Mark, who preferred to be up in his attic looking through his telescope, you spent the majority of your time outside in your grandmother’s garden. Albeit creepy, Mark admits would sometimes watch you laugh with your sister while playing in the garden and feel his chest fill with giddiness. There was one instance where you caught him looking, Mark immediately ducked down to the attic floor, out of the view of the window. He remembers feeling absolutely mortified, waiting a few minutes before peeking again. You were still there and, to Mark’s surprise, instead of sending him a dirty look and telling him to stop being creepy, you wave slightly and the blushing boy.

Mark always considered this the beginning of your love story. Though, he really didn’t know what he was feeling at the time.

It was in middle school when Mark realizes there is only one thing he liked more than space: that was you. When he saw you smiling brightly at everyone you met (hence the nickname given to you by your peers: sunshine), he knew he was in bad, and your smile would stay on his mind for the rest of the week… but then that week turned into a year, and that year turned into 2 then 5 then 6, into now. You smile slightly at him and wave your hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

Mark feels his face flush as you catch his daydreaming about you, “Yeah! Hi! I’m sorry… Are you okay?”

You nod and laugh lightly, “Are you okay? You seem a little out of it.”

“I really want to kiss you.” He says, except it comes out, “Yeah, just tired.”

“Oh, well then I’ll see you around then.”

As he watches you walk away Mark goes through every possible scenario in his head that would’ve made that experience much more enjoyable than it actually was. He groans into the empty hallway and tries his best to not think about you during his calc test next period.

Mark always waits until it’s night time to leave school, partly because he gets to take the bus alone and not be bothered by anyone, mainly because the stars come out to remind Mark why it is he is working hard, why the tiredness and long nights are worth it. They’re up there waiting for him. And he will do whatever it takes to make it up there.

Its a while past 6pm and Mark makes his way home, kicking stones and looking up at the sky, when his vision is torn away from the sky to the silhouette sitting alone at a bench. This person’s shoulders and shaking looks lightly as they cry. Mark’s trains his vision, trying to identify the figure.

His squinted eyes suddenly widen as he recognizes your hair and jewelry. Mark’s body is immediately flooded with concern. Why are you out so late? Why are you alone? And most importantly : why are you crying?

Before he can stop it, his feet are moving him to where you are. Though, once they’ve done their job of getting him there, they immediately abandon him and leave him defenseless in front of you. He doesn’t know what to say or do; his hands sweaty against the textbook he currently has an iron grip on.

You notice him before he speaks, quickly wiping your tears and sending a forced smile his way. “Hey, it’s you again.”

Mark remembers this morning and has to stop himself from cringing. “Yeah…” He stands silently for sometime, kicking some dirt up from the gravel as your sniffles ring through the air around you. Mark looks up at you only when you chuckle.

There are tears streaming down your face but you still manage to laugh at Mark’s awkwardness. “You can sit down if you want, Mark.”

Mark breaths in thickly, eyeing the empty spot next to you on the bench before taking up your offer, and setting himself next to you. He briefly glances at you a few times before quietly saying: “You know my name?”

You bring up a hand to wipe your cheeks, chuckling. “Of course, I do. You're my astronomer neighbor.” It’s an attempt to lighten the mood. “You, always with that telescope of yours.”

Mark smiles at the fact that you called him an astronomer. But it leaves quickly when another tear rolls down your cheek, your face becoming grim once again. Your hands try to cover up their tracks, Mark’s hands act on their own, grabbing your wrist before you could do so. You startle at this, looking at the boy incredulously.

Mark tries to pin point what part of him thought this was a good idea as he studies your face. His grip on your hand loosens as he enters the trance that comes with seeing your features so up close. Your puffy eyes staring back at him, and swollen lips so close Mark has to stop himself from making any more drastic decisions that could scare you off. “A p-penny for your thoughts?” His other hand reaches in his pocket and pulls a penny he remembered putting in there when he saw you in the halls earlier, he sets it on the bench between you two.

You watch the boy with confused eyes that flicker between his face and the hold he has on your wrist at the moment to the penny. You become perplexed when you hear his question, looking away as if your eyes will answer the question for you if he looked too deeply. “Just... things. It doesn’t really matter.” You shrug, wanting to abandon the topic as soon as possible. “School, stress about college. The usual.”

“Oh.” Is all he awkwardly replies, you shift your gaze to where his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. Mark notices and quickly lets it go muttering a quiet, “Sorry.”

You shake your head, watching him rub his hands on his black pants. “It’s okay.”

Mark rakes his mind for anything he can say or do to make you feel better; but judging from his lack of experience with the opposite sex, he finds this task very difficult. That is, until he rolls his head back in thought, catching sight of the bright constellations decorating the night sky. He figures he should stay within his field of interest, and take your mind off things.

His voice is rougher and shakier than he thought it would be when he speaks after some time. “Do you know about the story of the Gemini twins?”

A chuckle rises in your chest. You should have expected this to leave the mouth of the boy who had his nose stuck in space books every time you saw him. And even though you didn’t really care much for space or anything related to it, you wanted to listen to what Mark had to say. “Sure.”

Mark perks up, he mutters a soft ‘Really?’ under his breath that you don’t think you were supposed to hear since he starts talking immediately after. “Well, some people say that the twins in the sky are two boys named Castor and Polydeuces. One who was a mortal and the other who was the son of Zeus himself. Even though they had different fathers, the two were extremely close.” Mark’s wide eyes connect with yours and he interlocks his fingers to emphasize his point, you nod as an acknowledgement. “They spent the majority of their time just reeking havoc everywhere. Traveling, setting things on fire, partying, and basically doing anything they could to assure themselves a good time. They made their mark on the world while always being there with each other. Until one day, they got into a pretty bad fight with some guys over two women and Castor was killed.” Mark smiles when you gasp slightly. “And Polydeuces was so grief stricken that he asked his father Zeus to make Castor immortal like him, so they could be together for eternity.”

Mark pauses to see your reaction, your eyes are bloodshot and swollen but tears no longer leak from them. You lean forward as you wait for Mark to finish the story. “So he did, and that right there,” he points up to the sky where the twins looked down at you, “is them. Spending eternity together like they always wanted to.”

“Sounds great if you ask me.” You say quietly. “To spend eternity with your best friend.”

Mark nods, eyes shifting from the sky to your wonder filled eyes watching the twins. He can imagine the things you’re thinking of, the battles you’re vividly imagining the twins had fought while on earth. Just like when he heard the story for the first time. He wants to know what you think; what you see in your imagination. He just wants to know everything going through your head. (Not just now, but everytime he saw you walking in halls lost in thought, he had collected pennies in the front pocket of his backpack just in case one day he worked up the courage to a (literal) penny for your thoughts. It was stupid, he knew, but it gave him something to forward to.)

Mark doesn’t realize that you caught him staring until your hand rests on his own. Its the first skin to skin contact the two of you have ever shared. Your hand is warmer than he thought it would be although, it doesn’t surprise him at all judging from the fact that you quite possibly had the sun for a soul.

“Thank you for that, Mark.” You smile at his and Mark’s heart feels like it’s already on the moon waiting for him. “I’m sorry you missed your bus.” Truth is, Mark hadn’t even realized the bus had come and gone having been to focused on you. He shakes his head.

“It’s okay.” He says, “We can walk together, it’s dangerous to be out alone this late anyway.” He holds his breath and looks away as he waits for you to reply. Mark feels a weight off his shoulders when your soft voice travels through the chilly wind.

“I would like that.”

Summer, 1959; 10 years before launch

“Mark!”

Mark feels your body clinging onto his before he actually registers that you’re hugging him. The force of your impact produces a groan from him, still, he wraps his arms around you and chuckles. “Hey, you.”

Your graduation cap is tilted slightly, he reaches up to fix it for you. This causes you to smile at him lovingly; Mark can’t even begin to explain how much he loves it when you look at him like that. It makes him want to just grab your face and kiss you with everything that he’s got.

Which… he can, considering he’s been your boyfriend since November, when he clumsily confessed to you under the stars one chilly night.

You recall the memory fondly, the stars, the increasing coolness in the air and the redness of Mark’s cheeks (which, to this date, he blames on the weather but you know better) when he handed you a coin purse full of pennies nervously telling you there was one for each time he wanted to talk to you, and that he really wanted to tell you before Christmas break came. So he did.

He smiles back down at you as he recalls the events of last winter, he leans down far enough that his words are only audible to you. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Do you now?” He nods while chuckling at your teasing expression.

“If our parents weren’t here right now I would’ve already had you twice.” He says this to tease you, but only manages to frustrate himself even further. You stare at him, mouth agape before slapping his chest. Pushing your body away from him, your blush makes Mark chuckle. You playfully walk away from him, still blushing. He laughs and pulls your wrist so your body is pressed against him, he hugs you. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You laugh against his clothes and he does the same.

“Honestly, me neither.”

After laughing fondly for some time, Mark grabs your hands. “I have something for you.” He smiles widely, you give him a confused look as he pulls you toward your parents that sit together chatting. “Hey guys, I’m going to show Y/N something real quick in my car.”

Your parents nod, his mother's protests loudly. “Be back quickly, you two and don’t do anything bad!”

Mark’s graduation gown flows behind him as he side steps away from his scolding mother, hand clutching yours as his feet move quickly. “Yes, mom. We won’t do anything bad, I swear!” He suddenly pulls the two of you into a full sprint towards his car, laughter spills from both your lips and mixes with the air. The two of you bring your unoccupied hands to prevent your caps from flying off your heads.

The scene is quite beautiful, the sun is setting causing a light orange heugh to fall over your elated bodies. Young love flows in the air. It is wonderful.

You’re still chuckling when you finally reach Mark’s old car in the parking lot, he only lets go of your hand to insert the key into the door. Once the car is unlocked he leans into it, reaching into the backseat.

You, both excited and anxious, wait for Mark to get whatever it is he has to show you. When the boy finally comes out of the car, he hits his head on the door frame which causes him to falter lightly, however, once he hears your giggles he continues.

Mark leans out of the car and you gasp as you see a giant bouquet of flowers in his hands. Flowers of all types: roses, sunflowers, lillys, lavender, daisies, and tulips all so different but looking so in place in the bouquet. Mark’s hands hold the bouquet out towards you, “This is for you.”

Your slow hands move to grab to bouquet, touched that he even thought to get you something in the first place. “Mark… They’re beautiful.” You give him a warm smile and hug the bouquet to your body in a small sign of appreciation.

Mark responds with a nervous smile, “I’m glad…” You notice how his cheeks suddenly become tinted and he rubs his hand on his graduation gown slightly. “I have something else for you.”

“You do?” Confused and amused, you go through all the things the boy could possibly present you with. Though, nothing came to your head.

“Yes. but first… I need to tell you something.” His nervous hands come up to scratch the back of his neck, he takes off his blue cap in the process, revealing his flat hair underneath. Mark runs his hands through it, breathing deeply. “Ok. so you know that now that we’re out of high school, things are going to be a lot different. I’m going to have to dedicate a lot of time to my career and once college starts, I’m off and there’s no stopping me.”

You can’t help but grow nervous at the topic of college, knowing how difficult it will be for you two judging from the career path Mark has decided to go down. A million scenarios race through your head of what he could be trying to tell you and none of them are good. “I know, Mark.”

He nods, biting his lip. “And everything I do for the next few years of my life is going to have to adjust to my dream…”

“I know, I support you.” Your worry becomes fear and you figure it's better to voice it now rather than later. “Are you… trying to break up with me?”

The poor boy’s eyes widen to the size of planets and his hands come up to rest on your shoulders. Mark shakes his head vigorously, “No! Oh my god, no.”

“Then where are you going with this?”

He sighs, looking down at the ground, allowing himself time to think. You watch him with a confused look as his head shoots up, he breathes in deeply once again. “Ok. So you know how I love space, right?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “I love space and the moon but when you look at what the moon really is… it’s just a floating piece of rock, right? The only reason it shines and is beautiful is because the sun shines light on it to make its beauty known. It allows it to be seen. So without the sun we wouldn’t be able to see the moon and everything that it is, am I making any sense?”

The perplexed look you’re sporting answers his question, he sighs, muttering: “this definitely sounded a lot better when I practiced.” His words make you chuckle, but only briefly because he looks up at you again, this time with more determination. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m the moon and you’re the sun, before we met I was so hidden and no one ever really saw me nor did I make the effort to be seen and I started to think that maybe I was just a floating piece of rock too…” his eyes turn suddenly soft and you see a bit of the Mark that was for your eyes only, “ but then when I met you, you’re light was so bright and I felt so seen and so real, like I could do anything. That nothing could stop from shining when you even gave me the light to glow bright at night.”

Usually Mark was either all suggestive comments or shy remarks. This side of him is one that you’ve seen only once before: the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. His words sounded so heartfelt and sincere you felt your insides turning to mush. “Mark…”

He smiles at you before reaching into his car once again, pulling out another item. Though, this time it’s small enough for him to be able to conceal it in between his two hands. You look at his hands curiously. “I don’t know if this too soon, but i need you to keep me glowing and i love more than... anything.” He breathlessly says the last words and looks directly into your eyes. You don’t notice when his hands move away to reveal what was hidden by his hands until he’s down on one knee and a beautiful silver ring with a small shiny stone look back at you.

Your hands instantly fly up to cover your mouth that is agape in shock. Mark nervously searches your face for any signs of disgust but finds none, he continues. “Will you marry me?”

Your momentary silence cause the boy on one knee to grow nervous, Mark feels his insides churning and a slight pang in his heart. Which instantly leaves as soon as you kneel down in front of him, tears flooding your eyes and your hands grabbing the sides of his own. You’re smiling through your tears. Seeing you cry has always made tears come into Mark’s own eyes, soon enough his are growing increasingly wet as well.

“Are you serious?” The feeling you get when he nods is something you can compare to euphoria. You throw your arms around him and whisper into his ear; “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Mark’s embrace becomes tighter around you, every ounce of nervousness gone and replaced with nothing but undeniable love and appreciation.

He only breaks the hug to cup the sides of your face and kiss you hard on the lips. He uses his thumbs to wipe away your tears while his lips move on yours. The moment can only be defined by pure happiness and adoration for the boy pressed against you. You’re hands wrap around his thin waist and they remain there as he pulls away, tearfully chuckling. His shaky hands move to take the pretty ring out, clumsily sliding it onto your finger.

Mark’s eyes fill with fresh tears at the sight of your left ring finger adorned by the jewelry that would make Y/N and Mark into Y/NandMark. He rubs his nose, “It looks so pretty on you.”

His voice is shaky. You take his hands in your own and admire the way the new piece of jewelry looks against your skin. “It does, doesn’t?"

Mark’s hand brings your own up to his lips, closing his eyes as he presses a lingering kiss on the knuckle just below where your ring sat. Your adoring eyes only move away from the sweet action when your grandmother’s loud voice sounds throughout the parking lot. “Did you do it?”

Mark laughs against your hand and turns to both of your two’s parents who look at you expectedly.

Your fiance raised your hand for their eyes to see, the shiny ring serving as an answer. Excited shreeks leave the women as they race over, the men trailing behind with amused and proud smiles on their faces.

You turn to Mark, “They knew?”

Mark shrugs, wiping his tear stained face as best he could. “I had to get their blessing.”

The thought of Mark nervously going up to your grandparents asking for your hand in marriage makes you giddy and warm, almost as much as you remember that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him.

“I love you so much.” You whisper to him, squeezing his hand.

Mark smiles at you and moves closer to peck your temple. You feel his lips moving against your head when he speaks.

“Not nearly as much as I love you.”

Spring, 1961; 8 Years Before Launch

Even in college, Mark was by far the brightest student in the classroom as well as on the field. Flight school required more than just the ability to fly a plane, it required a lot of knowledge and the skills of calculating and acting fast. The way he worked while airborne and calculations and solutions he could bring up in little to no time left even the professor jaw-dropped.

It was obvious he was destined for something great. The professor saw it. His envious classmates saw it. You saw it.

And apparently so did a test pilot for the newly established space research facility (NASA) that Mark has spent hours telling you about: John Suh.

John Suh was a bright man from the north that had been flying since before he could run, everyone who knew him knew he was going to change the world. Mark was no exception; he finds himself opened-mouthed as the legendary man walks onto the field one spring morning. He carries himself with an aura that is supposed to intimidate others, however, Mark finds himself wanting to know more about the man and his career.

His professor stands, “Students, i’m sure you know who this is. If you don-”

“My name is Johnny Suh, test pilot for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration.” The man has a deep voice, a lot deeper in real life than on the speakers of the TV that sits in you and Mark’s apartment. He is taller too, though Mark expected that. “I came to you today in search of brilliant minds, I was told there would be many at Purdue.”

The excited muttered of the students fill the air, Mark remains silent. Too nervous and shocked to speak. He stays this way as Johnny walks to the side of the runway and stands with his hands grasps behind him. Its a military stance that brings an even more intimidating aura to him. Johnny Suh would remain there for the rest of the period.

Mark tries hard to focus on the tasks the professor gave the class.

It’s only when a hand comes down on his shoulder that he realizes that Johnny Suh has been watching him this whole time.

The man motions him to lean forward, Mark complies. John whispers, “The calculations you presented and the way you get around up there are impressive, even more advanced than what the professor is teaching you.” Mark can only chuckle nervously, shrugging. “Where did you learn that?”

Mark gulps before clearing his throat. “My grandfather was an astronomer, a pilot too.”

Johnny’s eyebrows rise at that, a pleased smile setting on his face. He watches the younger man shift his weight awkwardly, awaiting his response. Johnny leans in closer. “What's your name kid?”

“Mark Lee, sir.” He reaches out to shake Johnny’s hand. The pilot shakes it back with an amused smile.

“You know, Mark Lee, the president wants to send a man into space.” Mark perks up slightly, Johnny notices. “NASA is looking for a team.”

Mark avoids his eyes nervously, nodding his head. “I’ve heard.”

“So what do you think, can we do it?” The look on Johnny’s face let’s Mark know that the question has a reason behind it, though the words leave Mark’s lips before he even process a better response.

“Of course we can, if a man has already been in orbit, surely we can get to the moon.” When Johnny says nothing, Mark’s nerves increase impossibly. “Of course, there would have to be many preparations and tests and all those kind of things done but surely, it’s not... impossible.”

John nods, “You’re right.” A fond smile rests on the man’s face as he patted Mark’s shoulder. His eyes follow Johnny as he turns away from him and begins walking away. Mark can’t help but feel dejected, though he had prepared himself for this. The man walks up to the professor, interrupting his conversation with a student to whisper into his ear. John’s hand points in Mark’s general direction all eyes (including the professor's) move to him.

Mark’s instinct tells him to lean his head down but the look Johnny gives him tells him he has no reason to. Mark uses this confidence boost and keep looking forward as Johnny smiles proudly and makes his way off the field only to be stopped by the loud voice of an envious student.

“Leaving so soon, Mr. Suh?”

John turns once again and looks at the young boy before pointing Mark’s way with his strong hand. “I’ve already found what I’m looking for.”

It takes two weeks for Mark to get the call that will put his dream in motion.

The landline rang loudly through the space of you and Mark’s small shared apartment, you two were currently laid down on your bed, Mark’s arms curled around you. You don’t know how long you had been in that position before you had break away to rush to the phone in the kitchen.

“Hello?”

A pair of lips smack on the other line, “Yes, good morning. Is the residence of a… Mark Lee?” You shift your gaze to the shirtless man that has now moved from the bed to lean against the wall of the hallway, he smiles as you say:

“Yes, this is his wife.”

“Lovely to speak with you, Mrs. Lee. I’m calling from the National Aeronautics of Space Administration, we have some news for your husband.” Your eyes widen as you pull the phone away from your mouth as not have the man on the other line hear your gasp. Your husband approaches you with a concern filled face. Mouthing: “What’s wrong?”

You stare at him for a few seconds, before fighting a wide smile, you lean closer to him. “It’s NASA.” And excited tone is carried in your voice as you say that to him. Much like you, Mark’s eyes immediately widen.

You take a deep breath before pulling to phone back to your ear, clearing your throat. “I’m very sorry about that, sir. I will put my husband on right away.” You usher the starstruck man to grab the phone.

Mark’s shaky hands grab the phone and brings it to his ear, you watch carefully as he converses with the man on the other line. You can’t help but notice how he stands up straighter and carries himself with a different energy, a more professional and manly energy.

You don’t understand much of their conversation, but you do understand the words: “test pilot”, “offer” and even the name of the well-known test pilot John Suh. You decided you would just ask Mark what the conversation was about when he’s done, though it ends much sooner than you expected when your husband says the words: “I think I would like to discuss it with my wife first if that is fine with you.”

He nods while the man speaks on the other line before saying, “I will make sure to, sir. Thank you.”

You look at him expectedly as he ends the call by placing the phone back up on the wall. He remains with his bare back facing you for some time, until you reach forward and let the palm of your hand rest against his back. “Well?”

You let your hand fall as Mark turns around, his eyes are full of excitement and wonder initially, before they turn rather gloomy. “Mark, is something wrong?”

He shakes his head before looking up at you, “Remember how I told you Johnny Suh came to the university the other week, looking for recruits?” You nod. “Well, he chose me. Now… they’re offering me a job as a test pilot for a new project.”

“Mark! That’s fantastic!” Mark’s worried eyes look back at you. “Why are you upset? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Your confusion at Mark’s expression is intense, you had always pictured him during this moment. Though, it wasn’t ever anything like this.

“It is.” He pauses, looking up at you. “But now that it’s here… I’m worried.”

Mark lets his head fall to the side, turning his view away from you. This is a habit of his that surfaces whenever he is upset; you bring your hand up to cup his cheek and turn his eyes to your own once again. “What are you worried about, love?”

He looks deeply into your eyes, they are so soothing. So familiar. He immediately opens up. “I’m worried about our family, Y/N.”

“Our family?” You and Mark had touched on the topic of children once before, it was clear both of you wanted children, the moment just never came up.

“I want to have children with you, Y/N. I want us to have a family together and this job is going to so much of my time and it is so dangerous and I-”

“Mark Lee. This has been your dream since you were a little kid. You’ve wanted this for so long! You can’t give that up, not when you’re so close.” You try to keep your voice even when you want to tell him his worries are very similar to your own.

“That was before we shared the same heart and before I wanted anything like this with anyone.”

The troubled storm in your husband’s eyes causes your heart to strain.

There’s a part of you that wants to tell him that he is right. That he should stay with you and give you children and never leave your side. But there’s also a part of you that knows that Mark has wanted this his entire life, he has studied and worked for this moment. And there is no way you can take that away from him.

You raise your hands to cup his cheeks, forcing his eyes to yours. You smile reassuringly before sighing.

“Why don’t we make a compromise?”

His eyebrows raises in confusion. “A compromise?”

You nod, “Before everything gets to hectic at work, we can have a baby. That way, when you’re busy, we can keep each other company. And even when you don’t have time, we’ll find a way to make time, we always do.”

Mark eyes are still slightly conflicted. His eyebrows were furrowed, causing burdensome creases on his forehead. You bring your hand up from his cheek to his hair, stroking it as to pacify him while he considers your words. “What if something happens that parts us?”

You process his words before shaking your head softly. “We said until death do us part, and even then I’m still going to be with you. Don’t worry about those silly things.” You continue to stroke his hair, moving your hand down to his forehead. Running your hand gently over the creases, feeling them immediately relax under your fingertips. You trace the bridge of his nose and his lips, him taking the opportunity to kiss your fingers as they pass. Soon enough, your hand finds previous spot cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch and watches you with his big, glossy eyes.

“Nothing is more important to me than you. I want you to always remember that.” His hands grip the night gown you’re wearing at your waist, his jaw clenches as he suppresses his urge to cry. You nod, he breathes in deeply through his nose. “And I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to come back to you, no matter the circumstances.”

You feel yourself become emotional at his words, tears filling your eyes. Mark pokes your sides and says with a shaky voice, “Don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry.” You laugh tearfully and make a half hearted attempt to wipe the tear that fell down your cheeks, before wiping the ones that have run down Mark’s as he said the words.

After a moment of silence, Mark leans down to brush his nose against your own. He captures your lips in lingering kiss while holding your back with his hands.

The kiss serves to let you both know that it will be okay, that no matter what happens there will always be Y/NandMark.

The two of you pull away breathlessly, staring into each others bloodshot eyes for a some time before you say, “call them.”

He nods and moves to the phone.

You smile as you watch his talk with the man on the other line. The conversation carries on longer than you expected as they discuss the details of his work over the phone.

You motion toward the bedroom and Mark nods, watching you walk down the hallway towards your shared room.

Mark starts working that following Monday.

They said they wanted him working as soon as possible; that a new series of missions named ‘Gemini’ that were to consist of test flights for the grand mission of getting a man on the moon.

NASA was everything Mark expected it to be. The place was full of geniuses, which, he will admit, intimidated him to no end; he was reassured when a Mr. John Suh clapped a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Everyone who is here deserves to be here. Including you, kid.” His words settle well with Mark as he nods with a small smile.

Johnny shows Mark around the facility, while telling him that the two of them are going to have to spend a lot of time together since they work in the same division. He laughs as he tells Mark not to get sick of him too soon. Mark holds back from telling him that he enjoys his company more than he thinks and just laughs at his words.

As they pass by the number room, Johnny steps in to introduce Mark to the lady’s who work there. As soon as they hear the door open, all their eyes shoot up. Muttered words fill the room as they all eye Mark up and down, some even sending flirty waves.

“Ladies, this is Mark Lee. He’s gonna be flying with me.” Johnny notices some stares of want in Mark’s direction (who is currently looking at his shoes nervously, not knowing what to do). Johnny chuckles, “Sorry ladies, he’s a married man.”

The single ladies let out disappointed noises, Mark just laughs nervously along with Johnny. Who waves at the women as they walk out.

As they walk down the hall, Johnny speaks, “So this wife of yours… did you meet in high school?”

Mark blushes at your mention, briefly looking down at the gold band wrapped around his finger. “No, uh, we kinda grew up alongside each other, her house was next to mine.”

Johnny nods, “so you were childhood sweethearts?”

Mark chuckles, “well… not exactly, i don’t think she paid much attention to me before high school.”

Johnny hums. “Are you happy?”

With no hesitation, Mark nods. “Absolutely.” A silence falls after Johnny smiles at him, Mark clears his throat. “What about you?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve seen your wife on TV before… are you happy?” Mark feels like he’s over stepping but it’s too late now that the words have left his mouth.

John nods immediately, “yes.” He hesitates before adding, “Just worried about the future.”

Mark holds back a gasp. Is it possible that The John Suh has the same worries as him? “About what?”

Johnny shrugs, “You know, when you’re in the air every day, there’s a chance. There’s always a chance that something will go wrong and I won’t see my wife and sons again.”

Mark feels slightly comforted that Johnny has the same worries as him despite working in this field much longer than him. But still, hearing it come from someone else makes it much more… real. His face pales.

Johnny notices, stopping in his tracks and grabbing Mark’s shoulders. “But you can’t forget that there is also a chance that everything will go as planned and you will succeed for them, because of them.” His voice is stern in order to get the message to the younger man. Mark nods, looking up at Johnny and noticing how human he looks; realizing that Johnny Suh is just as real as he is.

Mark breathes in deep before nodding his head. He repeats the words in his head like a mantra:

For them. Because of them.

Friday afternoon of Mark’s first full week of work, you walked frantically around you and Mark’s small apartment, hurrying to set the table before your husband walked through the front door. The aroma of the dinner you prepared reaches your nose from the kitchen as you place fresh flowers in the vase at the center of the table.

You had been cooking since about midday, all in an attempt to make a nice dinner for Mark who had been coming home more tired these days, his new job taking a toll on him. You wanted to give him special treatment to help him relax a bit, and to celebrate him getting a position at NASA.

You were moving the pot of pasta from the kitchen to the dining room when you hear the sound of Mark’s keys from the entrance of your house. You let out a surprised shriek as you run to the nearest mirror, taking in the sight of your messy hair. You try to smoothen it before Mark walks in, wanting to look nice for him. Though, before you can even react you see his reflection in the mirror. He drops his bag lazily on the couch and walks over to you, watching you closely through the mirror as he wraps his arms around your waist.

You relish in his scent as he does yours, the two of you standing quietly for some time before he breaks the silence. “Hello there.”

You smile bashfully, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. “How was work?”

He smiles, “Tiring. But good.”

You nod before turning in his hold. He watches you with an amused smile as you get on your tip toes to kiss the corner of his mouth before pulling away quickly. His hands in yours, you pull him towards the dining area. “Dinner is already set.”

Mark is shocked as he sees the neatly decorated table and the pots full of his favorite foods all set on it. He looks up at you. “What is this about?”

Shrugging, you explain: “Well, I know work has been tiring you out and we still haven’t properly celebrated you getting the job because of the time crunch so… I just thought it would be nice.” You shyly look down at your feet. Mark feels himself falling for you all over again. He leans down to catch your gaze, his voice is dripping with love as he speaks.

“It’s so nice, love. I appreciate this so much, thank you.” His wraps his arms around you once again and hugs you tight, kissing the side of your head repeatedly. You smile against his chest before pulling away to excitedly lead him to the table.

“Wait here.” He does as you say, sitting at the table patiently while looking at the pretty flowers in the vase and the various candle your lit up. He smiles to himself.

Soon enough, you walk into the dining area, one hand carrying two wine glasses and the other carrying a big bottle of expensive wine.

He watches as you excitedly sit down next to him, handing the bottle over for him to open. It opens with pop that causes the two of you to laugh. He pours you a glass first and then himself.

“I want to make a toast.” You say, Mark chuckles, leaning towards you.

“Okay. To what?”

You raise your glass as you talk, “To my wonderful, hard working, inspiring husband who surprises me every day. Because you worked hard and persevered to accomplish your dream and it’s finally happening. You made it happen.”

Mark feels emotional as you finish talking. He never thought it was possible to love someone this much. “I also want to make a toast.” He raises his glass as you had done before, “To my beautiful wife, who is always there to cheer me on and support me no matter what, to whom I owe my success. None of this would’ve happened without you. We made it happen.”

You bite your lip as he talks, staring at him with heart eyes. The dreamy feeling you got when he first asked you to be his comes back, it seems the young love still remains.

You raise your glass, “To us, then?”

He smiles, clinking the edge of your glass with his own. “To us.”

You feel like a teenager again as Mark presses you up against the wall later that night, kissing you passionately. His hands wander all around your body feverishly before settling on your waist. The satisfying grip of his hands against you cause you to moan lightly, hands moving down from where they were locked behind his neck to the buttons of his white shirt. Your fingers work skillfully, undoing each button with ease before pulling his shirt down his arms rather roughly.

His collarbone and neck become exposed to you and immediately your lips are attached to every surface. Mark moans as you kiss down his Adam’s apple, throwing his head back. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of your lips on him.

You pull away only to grab his hand and pull him down the hall. Seeing him in this state is blissful, hair a mess and flushed cheeks. You can see the strain of his erection in his black dress pants and walk faster.

Once you reach you shared bedroom, you laugh giddily as you lie down flat on the bed.

The sight is rather beautiful. You lying there, your hair spread out around you, your dress ridden up slightly showing the upper part of your thigh. Mark wastes no time, crawling over you and capturing your lips once again. His hands move down to the bottom of your dress, pushing it up to bunch at waist.

Just as he was about to move his hands to your underwear, you stop him by setting your hand on his. He immediately halts his movements and pulls away, worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Let’s do it this time, Mark.” Your eyes search his for any signs disgust or hesitation but you only find confusion. “Let’s make a baby.”

Mark’s eyes widen, “Are you sure?”

You nod reassuringly, “I’m sure. Do you not want to?”

Mark nods rapidly, “Oh, I want to. I just…”

“Then give it to me, Mark.” You say bringing his hand back where it previously was. His fingers automatically begin massaging the area between your legs.

“Fuck, okay.”

And that’s what he does. That night, Mark gives you everything he has. Endlessly rounds of love making keep you up until the wee hours of the morning when the two of you collapse next to each other, sweaty and heavily breathing.

Mark tiredly smiles, reaching a hand up to move a sweaty strand of hair from your face. “I love you.”

You smile back at him, leaning forward to capture his lips, pecking them quickly. “I love you more.”

The two do you slowly drift to sleep as Mark scratches your back and the sunrise creeps in through your windows.

Spring, 1962; 7 Years Before Launch

At some point throughout the passing year, Mark decides that your tiny apartment wasn’t suited for the two of you anymore. He had made plenty of money throughout the year, saving up a fraction of every single paycheck until he had enough to pay for deposit of a lovely house he had been eyeing.

It really was perfect. It’s double storied, littered with windows that let the light seep in beautifully. The living room is a spacious area fit for slow dancing to the love ballads playing from the stereo placed in the corner of the room. Perfect to fit all the buzzing family and friends that came to celebrate with you today.

Blue party streamers hung from the ceiling, balloons littering the floor, children race around your home laughing wildly as their parents keep an eye on them while simultaneously socializing with each other.

Mark is greeting another guest at the door, smiling politely and leading them to where they can leave their gifts when you appear from the kitchen and into his line of vision.

He can’t help but smile every time he sees you. Your hair is beautiful cascading over your shoulders and a pretty baby blue dress falls over the swell over the pregnant belly gracefully. You smile at a few guests as you make your way towards Mark, who immediately puts a hand on your waist. “Food’s ready.”

He kisses your temple and nods, “I’ll let everyone know.” However, before he can walk to the living room where most of the people reside another knock comes from the front door.

He is pleasantly surprised when he sees his tall coworker he has grown close to standing there. “Johnny!”

The man smiles brightly bringing Mark into a short hug. Once they pull away, he steps aside to let Johnny, his wife and three sons through the door. Once you catch sight of him you smile widely, hugging him tight. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Johnny makes a face, “How could I not when my favorite couple are finally having a baby?” You smile warmly at him before moving to greet his wife, a beautiful woman named Lucy who had so kindly offered you her friendship the first time you met about a year ago. She wraps her arms around you and sways your bodies side to side. “My baby is all grown and having babies!”

You laugh as you pull away, leading her and her sons to the kitchen where the hot food sat ready for their consumption.

That leaves Mark and Johnny by the door. Johnny brings a hand down to clasp Mark’s shoulder, a fatherly gesture Johnny had taken to doing to the younger man. “How are you feeling?”

Mark smiles, “I’m… good. Great actually.”

Johnny chuckles, “You’re gonna be a dad.”

“I am.” Mark’s voice carries underlying wonder that causes Johnny to smile once again.

“I’m proud of you, kid.”

The words warm Mark’s heart, his close friend being someone who never gets too sentimental. He looks directly into his eyes, trying to get his sincerity across. “Thank you, John.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them, that is broken by Johnny who nods his head towards the view in front of him. Mark smiles as he sees you chatting animatedly with Lucy, you’re resting your plate on your big belly bump which makes Mark chuckle. Johnny’s sons sit on the floor in front of you, creating hundreds of scenarios and games with their action figures.

“For them and because of them, right?”

Mark nods but stays silent. You laugh loudly at something Lucy says, your nose scrunching up in the cutest way and your free hand comes down to rub your belly where your son currently was, waiting to join you two. Mark nods once again, only this time it more for himself.

“For them and because of them.”

Summer, 1966; 3 Years Before Launch

When Mark said NASA was full of brilliant people, he meant it.

Every person in the facility brought something new and revolutionary to the table, whether it be with their impressive brains or how well they can work the aircrafts.

Mark is positive he hasn’t met a person who hadn’t absolutely blown his mind. This is no exception when he meets the new test pilot that had recruited by Kun, (who was one of the senior pilots along with Johnny; also an excellent flier.) Jaemin Na was his name. He was younger than Mark by a year, making him the youngest test pilot on the field. Though one highly impressive and skilled test flight later, he proved to be just as experienced as the oldest pilots.

He greets Mark with a firm handshake and a bright smile, “Mr. Lee, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Mark raises an eyebrow before chuckling. “Please, call me Mark.” Jaemin nods, letting go of his hand.

Jaemin is at a loss for words in front of the now well-known pilot, his talkative self being pushed into a corner as he tries to control his urge to say just about anything that comes to his head. Mark notices. He considers what to do, and ultimately decides to do what Johnny would do. He claps a hand down on Jaemin’s shoulder, though, he doesn’t feel as natural as Johnny does, he tries his best to come back from it.

“I was just making my way to the cafeteria, do you pack lunch?”

Jaemin perks up and nods instantly, raising his lunch box to Mark’s face. “My wife made some yummy ribs last night n’ packed them for me.”

Mark smiles at the man, In that moment he decides he likes Jaemin.

“Let's head down together, then.”

On the way to the cafeteria, Mark finds out that Jaemin has been married for 5 years. That he eloped with his wife during their last year of high school and they have two daughters together, twins. Jaemin takes the liberty off taking the locket around his neck off to show Mark a picture of a beautiful curly haired woman with her arms wrapped around two equally beautiful curly haired little girls who smiled widely. “Those are my girls.” He said looking down affectionately at the picture. He asks Mark about his wife, he goes off on a tangent about you, how you met and about your little boy, Elliot.

Mark finds out that Jaemin joined NASA because of his love for adventure and flying. He also mentions that he would want nothing more than to make his family proud. Mark refrains from telling him that they would be proud of his nonetheless and lets him ramble on.

It’s halfway through lunch that Mark notes that there is never a silent moment with Jaemin. And he likes that. He’s usually not one to talk much and Jaemin’s voice fills the silence perfectly. His brightness and enthusiasm is contagious, leaving Mark in a good mood even after they part ways at the end of the day.

Some days on the field are better than others.

The objective was to test the control of the craft everyone called MH-96, it was nothing Mark hadn’t done before. He speaks with headquarters over his head piece as he situates himself into the cockpit of the craft, strapping in all his seat belts and preparing all his other protective gear. “The weather is good so there shouldn’t be any complications.” Mark hears the familiar voice of Johnny from his head set and smiles.

“What are you doing at headquarters? It’s your day off!”

Mark doesn’t see this but Johnny shrugs as he laughs, “Wanted to come see you complete this mission so I can brag about you at the Washington test flights next month.”

Mark chuckles at his friend’s words, feeling flustered that at the thought of someone bragging about him. He kisses his teeth playfully before smiling, “Are we ready for take off or what?”

Johnny laughs before speaking to a member of the head quarters crew who says something Mark can’t hear. Johnny makes an affirmative sounds before speaking, “I’m gonna let you speak to the professionals now. Good luck man.”

Mark nods before remembering that Johnny can’t see him, he lets out a hum and waits for Johnny pass the headset to the crew member.

The mission starts off well. It’s a simple task: test out how high the aircraft can go before coming back down and landing on the designated mark.

The force of the speed moving the aircraft causes Mark to go flat against his seat, his body becoming immobile. This had happened before so Mark could handle it well, (though, he will admit the force is greater than anything he had flown before) what Mark didn’t anticipate was the red flashes and alarming buzzes coming from the control panel of the aircraft. His worried eyes move to the panel before he contacts headquarters. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

The line silent before a confused voice comes through the headset. “It says here the flight has exceeded its expected maximum capacity of height but the gears are still accelerating.”

Mark processes the information. He has never experienced anything like this before: a point where he’s not in control of the craft. He begins to sweat. The only thing this situation would compatible to is driving a car with no brakes.

Suddenly, the aircraft begins to become extremely hot, a panicked voice rings in Mark’s ears. “The temperature is rising, Mark. You need to form a plan for descent now.”

Mark doesn’t know if the accelerating of heart beat is because of the adrenaline or because of the fear after the thought of you flashed through his head. The thought of you raising your son alone and of moving on without him because he let an aircraft control him. he shakes the thoughts from his head. He has a mission, not only to return safely but to return to you.

Mark brings together all the knowledge his has accumulated in his years of flying. Looking below him, sees the landing mark, where a few men wait for his arrival. After the big landing area, almost outside the fence of the facility, there’s a huge lake he had forgotten was there that served only for crash landing like these, it had never been put to use before but sees it as the only option.

“I’m changing course to the lake, will operate ejection protocol once I’m closer.” The man on the other line gives Mark an affirmative noise even though Mark can hear his nervous, heavy breathing.

As Mark approaches the lake, he steers the craft in a straight down. He is sure his heart beat has never beat this fast, he can hear it over the chatter coming through the headset and the creaking and loud alarms from inside the aircraft. He gets an urge to close his eyes but remembers that he has to eject himself before the aircraft hits the water.

He hurriedly takes off all his seat belts and protective gear, going through the procedure he was taught so many times that he never thought he was going to use. As the aircraft gets closer and closer to the water, the increase in heat and Mark’s heartbeat become more apparent. He makes a pathetic attempt to move his face away from the hottest spots, only to feel another extreme heat wave over his face.

It all happens so quickly Mark wasn’t even aware that he had ever pressed the ejection button until he was floating several feet above the water, getting absolutely soaked by the splash the aircraft produces as it makes contact with the water. His body slowly lowered to the water as well, (maybe a little too slow for Mark’s liking). The adrenaline still pumped through him, making it hard to stay still as his body made contact with water.

He uses up all his energy and adrenaline to swim to the edge of the lake.

Once he reaches the shore, he can barely find it in himself to stand. He hears the sound of frantic voices as his body collapses to the ground and everything goes black.

Much like all his mornings, your face is the first thing Mark sees when he wakes up. Though, unlike other times when you would sleepily smile or groan for another few minutes, there are tears streaming down your face and concern flooding your eyes.

Your eyes widen as you become aware of Mark’s consciousness. Immediately, you reach out to touch him. “Oh, Thank god!”

Despite how heavy it feels, he reaches up and sets his hand on yours. He hates seeing you like this. You launch forward to wrap your arms around his laid figure. He doesn’t have enough energy to move his arms but returns your hug by nuzzling his nose into your neck. He lets you sob against him, tears coming into his own eyes before he can stop them. His hoarse voice sounds through the room. “Don’t cry, baby. If you cry I’ll cry.”

You pull away from him and look into his eyes. His heart breaks a bit as he sees your big beautiful eyes full of tears. “W-when Johnny called me and told you were i-in an a-accident, I thought…” You let silence speak that sentence for you. “I was so scared Mark. I thought I lost you.”

Your broken voice and choked sobs go straight to Mark’s heart. He feels tears rolling down the sides of his face into his hairline.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay. I’m here.”

He reaches his weak hands against your back and pushes you further against him. Wanting you to feel his body, wanting you to know he was there.

You lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, it goes at a steady rhythm that calms you.

Badum… badum…badum

Mark breaks the silence, though he keeps his voice quiet as to not break the comfort you two have created.

“Where is Elliot?” You feel the rumble from his chest on your cheek as he speaks.

“I left him with Lucy.” He nods.

The thought of your son makes Mark smile, then frown. The little boy was almost a replica of his father, pretty eyes, and a small nose. Straight, jet black hair and delicate shoulders. Everything except for his personality. That’s 100% you. The way the little boy squeals in delight whenever he sees Mark and runs up to him, hugging him as tight as he can. The way he always tries to make his father laugh when he can tell he had a bad day, even though he still so young. The way he brightened up Mark’s world and helped him shine. Just like you.

Even so much as thinking of being apart from you and Elliot made fresh tears appear in Mark’s eyes. He never thought he would have so much to lose.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.” You do, eyes growing wide as you see his newly formed tears. He starts talking before you can question anything. Looking seriously into your eyes: “I want you to know that whatever happens, I will always find a way to come back to you and Elliot. Always. Even if…” he pauses to gulp “even if I die, I will still be with you guys. I will never leave you, okay? I will always be there. Do you understand?”

You nod your head as silent tears roll down your cheeks.

“I want to hear you say it.” He says in a stern but shaky voice. His eyes hold sincerity and fear behind them. You nod your head with more force. “I understand, Mark.” His thumbs wipe the tears off your cheeks as you lean in to kiss his lips.

The kiss is sad but heartwarming at the same time, it served as a promise between you and Mark. A promise to never be broken apart even when anything attempts to do so.

“I love you, Mark Lee.” You say softly against his lips, he grips your clothes tighter. He rubs his nose against your own, causing you to smile.

“Not as much as I love you, I can’t assure you.”

Even though the circumstance was not the best, you allowed yourself to think for that time that everything was perfect.

Even if it was just for a moment.

Summer, 1967; 2 Years Before Launch

It was rare for Mark to have moments like these. Perfect moments. Your son happily runs and bounces around the house, pulling Mark along with him as he maneuvers his way through your house on clumsy small legs.

Both you and Mark were ecstatic that he had been granted a short break during the summer. Seeing as that all of NASA’s focus would be on the test flights happening up in Washington D.C. where Johnny and a few other senior pilots were flying and showcasing different aircrafts made by NASA to powerful rich people up north, hoping to get the upcoming Apollo Project on its feet.

Taken, the break would only be three days long but Mark would take whatever he could get to spend time with you and your son, who kept him occupied by playing games with him and dragging him all over the house, showing Mark things like paperclips and toy airplanes that might seem simple but still made the little boy’s eyes fill with wonder as he examines it before showing it to his father. It warmed Mark’s heart to no end to spend time with his son, even though he couldn’t possibly make up the time he lost with his son in the next three days, he sure wishes he could.

Mark is too busy looking at paperclips and making airplane soar across the imaginary sky to notice that the phone had been ringing. Not wanting to interrupt their fun, you reach answer the phone yourself.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” You recognize the voice to be that of Kun’s- he was a colleague of Mark’s who had come over to your house a few times before. Though, you couldn’t imagine why he would call in like this. “Kun? Is everything alright?”

“Is Mark there with you?” You faintly hear giggles and Mark’s voice from the living room.

“He’s in the living room with the baby, do you want me to put him on?”

Kun inhales sharply, “No- I- fuck.”

“Kun? What is wrong?”

“He was doing a test flight and I don’t know what happened, there was some sort of system failure, they couldn’t even explain it, the system just fell and he came crashing down. It all happened so fast, Y/N.”

“Kun! Slow down! What are you talking about?”

He breathes in deeply, his frantic voice becoming a slightly more stable but still having a certain shakiness to it. “Johnny.”

All the puzzle pieces fall into place. A crash, system failure. Johnny. Your hands begin to shake. You bring your other hand to grip the phone as well. “Is he…?”

Kun’s silence is enough of an answer.

Your body goes into temporary shock. Before a sob makes Its way up your throat.

Johnny, the man who had inspired your husband to follow his dreams, who became not only his mentor but also his closest friend, who walked through your front door countless times with his wife and children. Johnny who was basically like family to you. Who celebrated thanksgiving at you and Mark’s house every year.

Johnny. Who will never get to see his boys grow into successful men and will never make it to the moon alongside his best friend like he had always imagined.

“Johnny.” Was all you could say.

It isn’t long before Mark emerges from the living room, your son scooped up in his arms, wearing a smile that instantly washes away as he takes in your state.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

You didn’t want to tell him. You wished he could spend the rest of his life not knowing; losing his best friend would destroy him.

He sets Elliot on the ground before walking up to you, he grips your shoulders. “Y/n, what happened?”

You look into his eyes, trying to remember what the brightness inside them looks like, knowing you wouldn’t see that brightness for a while after this.

“Mark…” You gulp, “Mark, something went wrong in Washington.”

Mark freezes, his eyes becoming serious. “Did anyone get hurt?” His eyes are looking directly into yours. They are already flooded with hurt and sadness, like he knows what’s coming. “Tell me.”

“It’s Johnny.” You say. “I’m so sorry, Mark.” You see as the life slips from his eyes, and his hands slowly fall off your shoulders, hitting his sides.

His voice sounds so small. “Johnny?”

You stare back at him as he stares lifelessly at you, tears are streaming down your face.

You approach him with extended arms, but he steps back out of your reach. He stays there for some time before turning abruptly towards the door, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his car keys.

“Mark…” you say, in pleading tone. “Where are you going?”

“I need to be alone right now.” He doesn’t look at you as he says that, his hand already gripping the door handle.

“Mark, maybe you shouldn’t go out right-“

“I said, I need to be alone right now!” He angrily yells, causing you to take a cautionary step back and watch as he slips out the door.

Mark goes to the only place he could think of, the one place he feels most confident, the place where he and Johnny carried out all their mission and cheered each other on: the runway field at NASA.

The place that had always been full of pilots, military men, NASA employees, and planes is now empty, leaving Mark alone with his thoughts.

As he looks across the field, he can practically see the image of everything that happened here applying in his mind. Johnny teaching Mark how to fly an aircraft.

Johnny ridiculously dancing in front of him to help relieve Mark of his nerves when it was his first solo mission. When Johnny told him that he was sure Mark was going to be on the crew that would go to the moon. That they would go together. No matter what. All the late nights they had spent working together, all the laughs, all the flights, all the near death experiences, all the plans.

“ALL FOR NOTHING!” Mark shouts into the emptiness before his hands grip his hair tightly. He finally lets the tears fall, his body crumbling onto the ground under him. He cries out loud for his friend. The pain becoming too much to bare. He screams and shouts at no one. “Oh my god.” He says between sobs.

Johnny’s service passes slowly throughout the rest of the week.

Mark can do nothing but stare blankly as they lower Johnny’s coffin into the ground. He’s standing alone. Elliot and Johnny’s three sons play in the grass, oblivious to the tragedy that has just struck their lives, and you are sitting on the ground, the shaking body of Johnny’s wife wrapped tightly in your arms as you let her sob into you.

You could've said you felt her pain as she breaks down in front of everyone at the cemetery, but you know for a fact that what she is showing is only a fraction of what she feels. You had imagined this happening to before; losing Mark and having to raise Elliot on your own. The pain from the thought alone is unbearable. All you can do is hold the woman closer to you, whispering encouraging things to her that really, in hindsight, do nothing but its all you had to offer.

Mark watches you attempt to comfort her but he finds himself thinking that there is no way for you to ever comfort her enough to make up for what she has lost. He feels like pulling you away from her, he doesn’t know why. He knew how comforting your presence was to everyone, yet he wanted to take you away and tell you to leave Lucy alone. Maybe it's because he wanted to be alone. Maybe its because he wants to let her mourn in peace. Or maybe its the hurt inside his heart when he sees her suffering, knowing Johnny’s heart would have broken if he saw her like this. Maybe its because one day it could be you in her shoes. He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know anything.

It is raining when you arrive home that afternoon. Mark walks into the house first, solemnly heading straight to your bedroom. You can only watch him sadly. Elliot was asleep in your arms, you close the front door with your foot before walking down the hall to his room, laying him down on the rocket patterned sheets. After planting a light kiss on his head, you enter you and Mark’s shared bedroom carefully.

The man comes out of the walk in closet at that moment, adorned in his work clothes. His NASA badge hanging from his neck. He only spares you a brief glance as he sits on the edge of the bed, slipping his shoes on his feet.

“Mark, where are you going?”

“I have a lot of work to do.”

“But…” You say, sitting next to him. “Didn’t they say you had a mourning leave?” The last place Mark should be right now is work, too many memories of Johnny and what could’ve been. You knew it was best he stayed home. He, however, seems to not hear you at all as finishes up tying his shoelaces, getting up at glancing at his reflection in the mirror briefly. Before making a brisk walk toward the front door.

“I’ll be back after night falls, don’t wait for my arrival and just sleep.” His voice is thick and strict and so unlike the Mark you know, it’s almost intimidating. It’s also void of any emotion.

Perhaps that’s what scared you the most.

Winter, 1967; 2 Years Before Launch

The next months after Johnny’s passing go by agonizingly slow causing Mark to dive fully into his work.

Things at NASA go back to normal after a few months while everyone recovered from the shock of Johnny’s death, things were slower and the big project Johnny was working on -Apollo- was put on hold.

Johnny had told Mark about the ambitious mission that’s main purpose was to get a man on the moon, though he had only heard of it briefly before that day.

Harsh rain is falling on the blue coat Mark held over his head as he runs into the facility in an attempt to avoid the inconvenient weather on the day his life would change forever.

He was shrugging off the bag at his desk and tusking at the sight of his soaked coat when Kun comes rushing over to him, anxiously tapping his shoulder. “Mr. Jung wants to conduct a meeting with us.”

“Mr. Jung?” Mark can’t help but grow nervous at the mention of the head executive. “Why does he want to conduct a meeting with us?”

Kun looks around them, before saying quietly. “He wants to launch Apollo.” The younger man steps back and looks at Kun incredulously, mouth agape and eyes wide open.

“A-Apollo?” His voice slightly shaking, though he can’t find it in himself to care as he processes Kun’s words.

“Yes, so let’s go! He is waiting on us.”

After a brief pause Mark forces himself to move, peeling off his bag and setting it on his desk before following Kun down the hallway.

Once they arrive to the meeting room, two men are already sat there waiting. Mr. Jung is dressed in a neat suit with his hair nicely styled to the side, his hands rest on the polished table. Across from him sits Jaemin Na, his hands are resting on his knees as he bounces them nervously. Mark almost sighs out loud at the relief of seeing a familiar face in here with them. Mr. Jung greets them as they take the seats next to Jaemin, who nods at Mark with a smile which he can tell was partially forced.

“Good morning pilots, I can assure that you have an inkling on what this meeting could be about.” Mr. Jung’s deep voice carries throughout the room, the three men across from him nod.

Kun speaks up first. “This is about Apollo, isn’t it?”

A smile grazes Mr. Jung’s face as he nods. “Yes, it is. I am happy to inform you that the men who will carry out the first man mission to set foot on the moon are in this room with me right now.”

A gasp catches in Kun’s throat, as he grips the arms of the meeting room chair tightly. Jaemin immediately sits up straighter and stares at the executive with wide eyes momentarily before looking to Mark for a reaction. The man in the middle, however, shows no emotion. His stoic expression causes confusion among the other men in the room. Jaemin taps his arm. “Mark, are you alright?”

Mark avoids looking at the younger’s face as he nods, hands intertwined tightly on his lap. He really wants to tell Jaemin that he is not alright and Johnny should’ve been in this room with them and been the one to carry out the moon mission. That even though this is everything he has ever wanted, it feels so so wrong to do it without him. He clears his throat. “I’m alright.”

The rest of the meeting is a blur in his mind, Mr. Jung discusses the details of the mission, the vigorous training the men would have to go through in the next few months and the many tests that had to be done before the mission could be carried out. He ends the meeting with a smile and a “Congratulations, men.”

As they leave the room Mr. Jung calls out for Mark to stay back for a bit. The pilot tells his still wonderstruck colleagues to go ahead without him as he steps back into the room. “Yes, sir?”

“Take a seat, Mark.” Mr. Jung says, setting the Apollo mission folder on top of the table. Once the other man is settled, he begins to speak. “I wanted to start off by saying I’m sorry for your loss, I knew you and John were very close.”

Mark nods and looks down at his hands. “Thank you.”

“And I realized you didn’t take the news of this mission very well, judging from your expression.” Mr. Jung clicks his tongue and opens the file, pointing to a part on one of the many pages. Mark recognizes Johnny’s neat penmanship and blinks his eyes furiously to suppress tears as he read the words. “John wrote in the details of the Apollo mission we were developing together that you were to be on the mission as first in command. He chose you for the passion you showed to flying and overwhelming trust he had for you.” Mr. Jung leans forward to emphasize his point. “Even before his passing, Mr. Suh has chosen you to lead this mission. Because he knew you were the best for it.”

Mark leans back into his chair, shocked. Why would Johnny make him the leader of the mission he was planning? What not make himself the leader? What had been going through his head when he made this decision? Mark couldn’t comprehend the situation and he feels as if his chest becomes heavier and the air becomes thicker. He can’t seem to catch a breath but he does manage to stand from his chair and croak out a: “I would like to discuss this with my wife beforehand.” Before rushing out of the meeting room.

The moment you hear the sound of Mark’s keys from outside the door, you stand up straighter and smooth down the wrinkles of your dress with your hands.You hate that you have begun to wonder when your husband would finally talk to you, after all this time and that you have to keep your guard up and anticipate when the man who used to go on and on to you about every detail of his day would finally even so much as breathe in your general direction. (Elliot had grown a full two inches since the last time Mark had spent a full day with him. This made you wonder how much more he would grow until you couldn’t handle Mark’s silence any longer.)

Once he is in the house, you watch as he hangs up his coat in silence. Suddenly, to your surprise the man turns to you causing you to perk and smile immediately. (You don’t know this, but Mark’s heart string tug as he sees you so excited to talk to him. He forces a small smile back.) “Hi.”

“Hi.” He replies, hands gripping the back of a dining room chair. “I uh-” It’s almost like he has forgotten how to talk to you. “Mr. Jung held a meeting today.”

You lean forward, urging him to continue. “And…?”

“And… it’s a go.”

“What is a go?” You furrow your eyebrows at him, he looks up at you.

“The lunar mission. Kun, Jaemin and I were brought in today to discuss it.” You stay in stunned silence, Mark grows increasingly anxious. “What do you think?” He asks, itching to know what’s going through your head.

You snap out of your stunned state, out of all the millions of thoughts rushing through your head. You’re terrified, you will admit only to yourself that your blood ran cold the second his words settled in your mind. Nevertheless, you smile. “What do I think? Mark, this is wonderful!” Confusion overshadows your fear as you see that your lover’s face isn’t full of excitement like you expected it to be, but rather discomfort and turmoil. You carefully step closer to him. “Mark? What’s wrong? Is this not what you wanted?” You make sure to keep your voice gentle as you spoke to him, though it seems your words only made matters worse for him. “Do you want to talk? I can make some tea and w-”

“No.” His stern voice resonates throughout the room, at the same time he takes a step away from you. “This is what I want and ill do it even if it kills me.”

You gasp quietly as you step back from the pilot who is looking at you with cold eyes that have built a fortress to contain what he feels. “Mark…”

The man allows you no more words or touches as brushes past you, down the hall to your bedroom, his doesn’t slam the door but he closes it loud enough that it shakes the picture frames on the wall next to it and makes your heart beat quicken.

You think about how this is the first time Mark has made your heartbeat accelerate in a negative way and you run your fingers through your hair is distress, wondering how much more your tired heart can take.

The next few months pass by in a similar fashion, Mark dives fully into his training and his duties at work and you force yourself to focus on Elliot and what to answer every time he asks where his father is. You try to explain to him that his father has been busy, that soon everything would be back to normal once Daddy does some things he needs to do. You don’t dare mention the possibility of Mark not coming back, partly for him and mostly for yourself. These days, you and Elliot learn how to depend on each other and support Mark from afar no matter how much it hurts to watch him push you away, hoping that in the end this will all be worth the pain.

Spring, 1968; 1 Year Before Launch

Night falls and Mark still hasn’t returned, you still hope the result of all of this will justify the pain but you are sure it will not justify the anger.

His work days usually end at around 3pm, you knew this by remembering all the days when Mark’s would come home to eagerly greet you and your son before telling you, in detail, everything that happened that day. You sigh when you look towards the clock on the wall. 11:32pm.

Elliot had gone to sleep a few hours ago, hugging his toy airplane tightly against his chest. You are left alone with your thoughts as you wait for Mark.

The man has been absent in your life for the past few months. He lived in the same house, slept in the same bed and went with you to all his events, he was there but he wasn’t there.

He had lost a part of himself when Johnny died. You caught him staring at walls often, silent and thoughtful. You had to yell his name to get his attention sometimes.

You can’t help but feel like you aren’t just mourning Johnny but also Mark. The thought makes your hand ache and an angsty feeling to bubble in your chest.

The sound Mark’s keys interrupt your train of thought. The clock now reads: 11:49pm. You walk quietly to the kitchen where Mark currently was, taking off his coat.

“Hi.” You say is quiet voice, afraid that you will somehow trigger him. Mark’s eyes move to you, he nods.

“Hi.” “Where were you?” You dare.

“Just out.”

“With who?” “Why do you want to know?”

The answer is so cold, so unlike Mark. You are taken aback. You can’t stop yourself from raising the tone of your voice slightly. “Because you’re my husband, Mark.”

He sighs, looking away. He chooses not to answer, hanging up his keys.

Your patience begins to wear thin, you approach him. “Where were you, Mark?” You want to ask: ‘Where are you?’

He kisses his teeth, “I just went out for a drink with some of the guys, okay?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, the sound straight to Mark’s blood, angering him. The tone of his voice is loud when he speaks. “Does that bother you? What is the problem with me going out to drink everyone once in a while? I’m stressed, I’m tired!”

“I know, Mark. I understand that but I just wish that you would come home more, I’m worried about you!”

He gets closer to you, there are traces of anger all over his face. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are red. “Its my job, y/n! What do you want me to do?”

“ I just want you here with me and Elliot, that's all I want!” You throw your hands up in frustration.

“This mission is important to me. You know that this is my dream and so fucking what if i want to go out after working all day? I deserve it!” It’s scares you how little of the him you once knew you see in these cold eyes, you don’t recognize the person in front of you.

“Believe me, I know how important this mission is to you and i'm not asking you to give that up at all, but please sort out your priorities, Mark, we are your family for god’s sake!”

“Why can’t you understand that this mission is my first priority? NOTHING is more important than this mission.”

Your words are caught in your throat. Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as his words settle in your mind. You two stare at each other in silence, chests heaving.

You watch as his eyes softens slightly upon seeing the hurt and exhaustion that reside in your eyes. He dares to step forward, only for you to step away from him and turn your back to him. He can see the faint outline of your shoulders blades under your skin when you reach hands up to grip the sides of the kitchen sink. Your knuckles turn white from the grip and your shoulders rise and fall slowly as you try to conjure any words.

“Y/N-“

“You know what, Mark?” You scratch your nails against the wood of your counter. “I know that you’re hurt and I understand that you need time… I get that. And I try my best to respect that but all I’ve done for the past ten years of my life is love and support you and your dream which I’m so happy that you finally get to achieve. Like, you don’t know how absolutely ecstatic I am for you.” You turn to Mark, who watches you with furrowed brows. You desperately try to get your point across to him. “And…, you can put this mission before everything and you can put everything before me and I would understand.” His lip quivers for a millisecond before he bites down on it. You poke an accusing finger at his chest, speaking through gritted teeth. “But don’t you dare prioritize anything over Elliot, okay? He needs you. He needs his father and you’re leaving no guarantee that you will ever come back.”

The last words spill out quickly, they cause tears to spill out of your eyes which you frustratedly wipe away. “So, just take some time to be with him, please?”

He doesn’t have time to answer because you move away from him, racing down the hall to your shared bedroom.

He stands alone in the kitchen. Thinking over your words. He realizes how selfish he has been.

How could he have forgotten that you were also mourning Johnny? That he wasn’t the only one who had lost someone the day Johnny died? How could he not realize that on that day, you lost not just Johnny but Mark as well because he let his own grief get in the way of his judgement. How could he have forgotten that he is a father? That there is a little boy who is wondering where he is. That in his moment of fear when he thought of you in Johnny’s wife’s shoes, he tore himself away from you and Elliot. How could he have been this way to you? After all the promises he had made you.

For them, because of them.

How did he forget?

His feet act before he does, moving down the halls of your house, stopping at the door of your shared room. He opens the door carefully, peering inside. His shoulders sink in defeat when he sees the vacant room. His pillow is lonely on the bed. He wanted to believe you would be in the room, waiting for him for him to come in and apologize, that everything would be instantly fixed.

He is careful not to make too much noise as he walks down the hall, once he reaches the decorated door of your son’s bedroom he turns the handle carefully.

The sight breaks his heart into a million pieces. You and Elliot were squeezed into his small bed, curled into each other for warmth, the duvet thrown on the floor next to you. It breaks his heart to know that he left the two of your alone due to his own selfishness, that you two had to protect and take care of each other when he was supposed to be doing that all along. It breaks his heart to know that he failed you as both a husband and a father.

He moves carefully into the room, taking the abandoned duvet and draping it over your bodies. He watches Elliot’s chest rise and fall, his peaceful face causing fresh tears to form in Mark’s already bloodshot eyes. His shaky hand comes up to brush his black hair away from his forehead. “I’m sorry, Elli.”

The next day is Saturday, meaning Mark has the day off. Still, he finds himself waking up before the sun, wanting to get away from the cold, lonely sheets that haunted him all throughout the night.

He peeks into Elliot’s room, seeing the two of you still sound asleep. He smiles sadly, before reminding himself that he has to make it up to you two today. Mark carefully walks towards the bed, leaning down to give you each a kiss on the forehead before slipping out the door.

You awoke that morning to the faint sound of Elliot’s laughter. Confusedly sitting up, you notice that you’re alone in Elliot’s blue walled room. You smell the sweet aroma, surely coming from the kitchen and immediately spring to your feet. You race to the kitchen, thinking Elliot was up to something only to be face to face with your husband who carries a tall plate of pancakes in his right hand and a spatula in the other.

He startles when he sees you, putting down the plate rapidly and dusting the flower off his clothes. His nerves obvious to you. “Good morning.”

You stare at him before looking at Elliot, who happily munches on some pancakes at the table, humming softly. You feel Mark’s gaze on you. “Morning.”

The sound of your voice makes him feel a bit better. “I made pancakes.”

You nod, “I can see that.”

Your cold tone causes him to deflate lightly, you can tell but you remember the words he said to you last night and you feel like maybe he deserves it.

“We can eat together, if you want.” His eyes look hopeful. Your heartbeat quickens. It reminds you of when he asked you to be his girlfriend or to marry him; it’s the kind of hopefulness you have never said no to.

You say nothing as you push past him to grab a plate of pancakes before moving to the table, taking your chair beside Elliot.

Mark stays frozen, not knowing what to do. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anger you further so he stays in that spot, watching you two eat.

“Are you coming?”

Your mouth is stuffed with food but Mark immediately understands and moves to his place at the dining table across from you.

Elliot giggles, “Mommy! Daddy is here today!”

You put on a happy tone, “He is!”

Elliot looks over at Mark, who was already looking at him. “I missed you, Daddy.”

If Mark thought his heart was broken before, he was wrong. “I missed you too, Elli. But from now on Daddy is going to spend more time with you, would you like that?” He blinks rapidly, trying to keep the tears away from his eyes. Elliot nods eagerly.

You watch the interaction and can’t fight back a sad smile. You reach your hand out to wipe some syrup off of Elliot’s cheek, before looking Mark’s way.

He is already looking at you. His eyes hold something in them. They want to tell you everything he is thinking, all the regret, apologies and sadness.

“Daddy?” Elliot’s soft voice ends your long eye contact. Mark looks at your son, humming. “At school, a girl told me that when a boy looks at a girl for a long time, that means he likes her... Do you like Mommy?”

Mark chuckles at your son’s innocent question, reaching a hand up to ruffle his straight black hair. Smiling, you lean back on your chair and watch the two of them talk.

“I like Mommy a lot, Elliot.”

You hide your smile from him, looking away. Elliot gasps, little hands covering his open mouth in a frantic gesture. “Does that mean you want to kiss her?”

Mark laughs once again, before looking over at you, he feels the pieces of his heart getting pulled together slightly when he catches your small smile and the blush on your cheeks. “Yes, I do.”

You scoff, looking away. You stand up grabbing the empty plates and walking towards the kitchen, missing the moment where Elliot leans close to Mark and whispers:

“I think she likes you too.”

Mark can’t believe how happy being a dad can make him.

After breakfast, Mark had suggested going on a walk together, you declined telling him to take Elliot and spend some time alone with him. Although you’re rejection bruised him slightly, he begins to think that spending some time alone with his son is what he needed.

Just like you, Elliot is talkative. He talks about everything under the sun, dramatically flailing his arms in order to get his point across. Mark listens and nods, laughing at the strange things his toddler had to say.

While skipping through the park, Elliot suddenly gasps, halting all his movements. “Daddy, look!” He lets go of Mark’s hand and leans down to grab a circular pebble off the ground.

The pebble is grey and has all kinds of bumps on it, Elliot brings it up to Mark’s face. “It looks like the moon!” Mark takes a good look at the rock, realizing his son is right, it does kind of look like the moon.

“It does!”

Elliot grabs Mark’s hand and sets the rock in the middle of his palm. “You can take this little moon with you when you go to the big moon. For good luck!”

Mark’s heart bursts with love as Elliot looks at him hopefully. “That’s a great idea, buddy.”

A big smile identical to his own forms on his son’s face, as he grabs Mark’s hand once again, pulling him down the sidewalk towards the swings.

Later that night, after you hear all about their day out from an excited Elliot, Mark finally manages to convince the little boy it was time for bed.

You hear his protests through the walls, along with Mark coaxing and bribing him with different candies.

After a while, all the noise stops. You hear the sound of his door opening then closing before the sound of Mark’s footsteps coming down the hall.

You look up at your reflection in the mirror of the vanity you sat at, picking up the hair brush, trying to look busy as he steps into the room.

At first, he just stands by the door and watches you. You try your best to not look back at him even though you really want to.

He decides to break the ice, walking up to you slowly. He holds out his hand, “Let me.”

You look up at him before setting the hair brush in his open hand.

His hands are gentle as they weave the brush through your hair, working tentatively on every strand, making sure every knot was gone. You watch him through the mirror, his focused gaze to busy working on your hair to notice.

“Done.” He says in a soft voice, setting your brush down on the vanity before moving behind you once again.

The two of you look at each other through the mirror.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

You quirk an eyebrow before replying “You think so?”, your fingers fiddle with the sleeves of your robe as you look at your husband who nods rapidly.

“Of course I do.” He moves around you, facing you directly. Mark kneels down in front of you, resting his hands on the sides of the bench of your vanity. He looks up at you with his big eyes. You stare back at him, keeping your hands locked together instead of cupping his face like they were itching to do at this very moment. The two of you just look at each other for what feels like hours before Mark’s face changes suddenly, scrunching up as he lets his head fall onto your lap. You feel his hands grip you waist as his body begins to shake. You feel his tears on your thighs.

Hesitantly, you rest your hands on his head, stroking his hair in an attempt to calm him. “Mark…”

He sniffles, looking up at you with red eyes. It pains you to see him this way, so broken and sorry. You can see how much he has suffered through the exhaustion in his eyes. Guilt rises in your chest as you see your love in such a vulnerable state. “Mark, don’t cry.”

He shakes his head vigorously, “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you, y/n. All the promises I’ve broken and how much I’ve been lacking for you and our son.”

You listen to his rant with furrowed brows. “I’ve failed you. I didn’t mean it when I said the mission was more important than you, please know that I never meant it.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, Mark’s words making you feel emotional. “I told you all those years ago that nothing is more important than you and that still stands. There’s nothing in this universe I love more than you, sunshine. And I will never be able to forgive myself for thinking differently for even a second.”

He hiccups between his words, shoulders shaking as his hands grip the fabric of your robe to keep you with him. Not daring to let you go.

“Mark, it’s okay. You’re here now, aren’t you?” You try to soothe his pain while your own cheeks are becoming wet with salty tears. He shakes his head against your thighs, a sob leaves his lips.

“I should’ve been here always. I left you like I promised you I wouldn’t.” He cries rather loudly. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I just… saw what losing Johnny did to Lucy, and it made my heart break even more than it already was to picture you in that position. I never wanted that to happen to you, so I guess I started to push you away.” He sniffles and swallows thickly. “Now I see that was the wrong thing to do, and I’m so, so sorry.” Mark’s head falls into your lap once again as his body continues to shake.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this broken before. You’ve seen him cry plenty of times, sure. But the way he hunches over, his shoulders shaking as his cries leave his mouth. You bring your hands down to caress the top of his back.

“Lay with me, won’t you?” Mark looks up at you upon hearing your borderline shaky voice. He looks so small and fragile as he nods and stands on his two feet before you, grabbing your hands and allowing you to lead him to your shared bed.

He never lets go, never allows even a brief moment of your skin not touching his own.

He lays on his side, same you. The two of you are facing each other, you bring your hand up to caress the side of his sad face, his eyes immediately close.

“I’m sorry too Mark.” You whisper, Mark’s eyes open. His eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry you were having a hard time with everything that happened.”

He shakes his head, “It wasn’t your fault.”

You go silent for a moment. “Mark… Johnny would be really proud of everything you’ve accomplished, you know that right?”

There they are.

The words Mark has been waiting to hear for the last two years. The words he worked towards. He has been waiting for them, though he never said it.

His breath hitches and his eyes become wet once again. Mark’s jaw clenches as more sobs come from him. He cries into the palm of your hand, his tears pool onto it and run down your wrist. Your lips quiver as you see the love of your life breakdown completely in front of you.

“Sh… it’s okay, baby.”

Mark pulls you closer to him, moving down to rest his head on your chest. You stroke his hair and let him cry, whispering calming words to him. You didn’t realize that Mark had been this burdened by Johnny’s death, and how sincerely regretful he was for being absent.

It takes a while for Mark to finally pull away from your tight embrace. He looks up at you with his tear stained face.

His voice is only a bit over a whisper but still fills the silence that occupied the room, “Thank you for always being there and for raising Elliot so well.”

You smile. “He was happy today.”

Mark chuckles, his arms were still wrapped around your middle as he nods his head. “I was happy too.”

“I am happy to be here with you, close to you.” He corrects himself, you chuckle lightly, scratching his back. You’re glad the man has started feeling better once again.

“You don’t know how happy I am to have you here.” Mark moves up after hearing your words, squirming and moving until the two of you are face to face. He is so close your noses are touching, brushing against each other in a fleeting delicious moment of skin to skin contact. He stares deeply into your eyes before looking down at your lips which were still swollen from crying. Mark’s eyes move to yours once again before fluttering closed when he leans down, pressing his lips on your own.

You had spent the last 10 years of your life kissing this man. He had never kissed you like this before. So regretful and trying to portray every ounce of love he had in his body for you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling his chest flush against your own.

Mark kisses you like it was his first, but also like it was his last. Breaking away only when the burning in his lungs becomes too much, his heavy breath still fans across your lips, adding to the intimacy and heat of the room.

The next morning, you wake to the feeling of a hand shaking your shoulder lightly. When you open your eyes, Mark is the first thing you see. He has a soft smile on his face as watches you. “Hey.”

Your voice is rough when you speak. “Mark, what’s wrong?” A glance at the clock hung up on the wall of your bedroom tells you in about half past 5 in the morning. “Why are you up so early?”

“I want to show you something.” The man moves out of the bed quickly, pulling your hand and causing the sheets to falls off your body. You shiver upon feeling the coolness of dawn on your exposed skin when you stand. Mark notices and steps closer to you, his bare chest against you clothed one, bringing a certain amount of warmth to you. His eyes pour into your squinted ones. The pretty dark brown gems are fully open, which makes you suspect that he has been awake for a while. You reach hand up to smoothen out his messy hair as he watches you with loving eyes.

Your voice is quiet when it breaks through the silence. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

It had some time since you and Mark had been on a date.

Especially one like this.

Mark drags you up onto the roof of your house, trying his best to not be too loud to avoid waking up Elliot. He had set up his telescope on the roof, along with a small makeshift picnic including two mugs filled with hot coffee and some slightly burnt toast with jelly spread.

He loves the way your eyes light up when you see what he set up. Feeling accomplished, Mark tugs at your stunned hand urging you to go on. You chuckle in disbelief before letting him lead you.

Mark gestures for you to sit down on the spot next to him on the gravely roof.

“What’s all this about?” You say to him quietly, as if anyone would be up this early to hear you.

Mark squeezes your hand that remains in his own. “I figured this is the only way to have some time alone before Elliot wakes up.”

“There’s more.” You say as-a - matter of factly.

“The sky's awake.” You hum, looking up at the bright sky. Mark tries to look up but he can’t seem to take his eyes off you in this moment. Maybe it’s because he has kept himself from seeing this image for a long time or because you were more beautiful than the sky anyway (maybe a bit of both). Either way, you realize Mark is looking and nudge his arm playfully. He snaps out of his daze with a shake of his head, chuckling. “Yeah, I asked it to wake up for you and I today.”

“Oh, did you?”

Mark nods rather cutely which cause you to smile. “Well, it was very nice of the sky to lose her beauty sleep for some little specks on earth like us.”

Mark laughs at that, before leaning over you to grab the mugs he brought up here, handing one to you before taking his one. The cold breeze that blows through the air causes you to shiver and hold your mug tighter, while Mark lets you sandwich your feet between the folds of his bent knees to keep them warm.

The two of you sit in silence for some time just enjoying companies after so long with no tears, rencor, or tension. Just Y/N and Mark Y/NandMark. Like you always thought it would be.

The cold reminds you of something and you giggle lightly as you look up and them, Mark raises an eyebrow at you (though there has been an ever present smile on his face). You leans forward, as does he.

“Do you remember the story of the Gemini twins?”

He smiles softly, becoming mush as he recalls that night. “Of course I do.”

A lot have things have changed since that night. Things you never even imagined that night have occurred. Getting married, having Elliot, Mark getting a job at NASA, commanding the moon mission,losing Johnny, being torn apart by grief and being brought back together.

All things you never in a million years thought would happen between you two he found you crying on the bench that day. But they did. And you wouldn’t change anything.

“We are kind of like the twins now I think.” You say, looking up at the constellation in question.

“How so?” Mark soft voice meets your ears and you smile.

Shrugging, “We’ve been through a lot together. We’ve loved. We’ve created. We’ve suffered. We’ve fought. We’ve cried. We’ve been to the ends of the earth and back; without letting go. We’ve wreaked havoc on this world and have surely left our mark somehow.”

Mark is stunned when you finish speaking. His heart swells with a feeling he can’t describe perfectly but it definitely feels lighter. It feels like the last year of his life has fallen off his shoulders like a discarded coat. For a moment he thinks the two of you have gone back in time to high school and are falling in love all over again.

“I also forgot to mention that I get to spend eternity, at least what I have, with my best friend. Which is pretty… cool.”

Suddenly, his mug is put to the side and his arms are wrapped around you tightly. The position is a bit awkward due to your legs being sandwiched between you two. But neither of you seem to mind, just holding on until the sunrises and the toast gets soggy. Only letting go when you hear Elliot’s calls of your names from downstairs.

Summer, 1969; 1 Month Before Launch

Your lives do a complete flip after that. Mark goes back to being his old self. He still mourns the loss of his friend, of course, but he has finally allowed himself the opportunity to heal. He spends more time at home, pulls you in for random slow dances in the living room like he used to, helps you cook and watches as Elliot grows another whopping 4 inches. It still shocks him from time to time how much he has grown (sometimes even bringing tears to the corners of his eyes, but no one other than you has to know that).

He still prepares diligently for the mission, never missing a training or practice at the base. The work is tiring, yes. But Mark knows it will be worth it in the end, when he has finally reached his dream and made everyone he loves proud. When he feels unmotivated or tired, he thinks of your smiling face, his son’s bubbly laughter, and the fact that Johnny trusted him enough to leave such a big mission on his hands. He doesn’t want to let any of you down.

And he won’t.

These very thoughts are the one that dragged him to work this early in the morning. The sun is still in slumber and Mark wonders why Mr. Jung would’ve called the house phone yesterday and asked him to come in early the next day for a meeting.

He brings his coat closer to him as he approaches the facility, smiling upon seeing Jaemin standing outside the door, doing the same thing. Jaemin flashes Mark a big smile and waves him over. The two shake hands when Mark finally reaches Jaemin, “I was waiting for you to get here before going in.” A gust of wind blows causing them both to shiver. “You’d think that in the summer, it would be hot,” says Jaemin, “Let’s go in before I lose my balls.”

Mark laughs as he enters the doors of NASA. Mr. Jung is already waiting on the other side, talking to Kun who nods in greeting at his teammates. He lifts his head up upon hearing the door, smiling as he sees the familiar faces of the Astronauts. “Mr. Na, Mr. Lee, thank you for coming so early, I just wanted to get this out of the way before the busy work day ahead. Shall we move elsewhere?”

They move to the meeting room where it all began, it feels strangely nostalgic to be back here again. Mark chuckles when he realizes they sat in the same order they did that day. Jaemin, then Mark then Kun on the end. Mr. Jung across them.

Mr. Jung smiles, dimples form on the sides of his cheeks as he does. “You’ve been through a lot this year, pilots.”

The men nod and Kun lets out a chuckle. “Just get to it, Jaehyun.” Mr. Jung laughs out loud at this.

“Okay, okay. We have to make an important decision. As you know this will be the first man mission ever in the moon, having said that, we need to decide who will be the first man to step foot on the moon.”

The air suddenly grows tense. None of the men ever thought of that. Silence settles for a few minutes before it is broken by the sound of Jaemin’s deep voice. “This first man should be Mark.”

Mark turns wide eyed to the younger man. “What?”

Kun nods, “I agree, you have the best resume out of all of us, and your commander of the mission for Christ’s sake!”

The oxygen momentarily leaves Mark’s lungs and is only knocked back in when Mr. Jung speaks to him. “What do you say Mark?”

“I-“ he stutters, breathless. “I don’t know.”

“Mark,” Kun says, in the most sincere voice he had ever heard him use. “Johnny would’ve wanted it to be you too, you know.”

He does know. He takes a deep breath, and leans back in his chair, “I can’t say no to that.”

Mark tells you the news that afternoon, you crash into his arms and hug him tight. His fingers weave into your hair and he pulls you impossibly close. “I’m so proud of you, Mark.”

You pull away and brush at strand of stray hair that has fallen off onto his forehead. “Who knew that astro nerd would be the first man on the moon?”

Mark pulls away, gasping in fake offense. “What do you astro nerd? I was super cute in high school!”

“I didn’t say you were ugly, I said you were a nerd.” You say pushing playfully. He grabs the hand you pushed him with and pulls you close to him.

“A nerd that stole your heart, right?” He says quietly, you can’t help but giggle, feeling the bubbliness in your heart of not young love but love that has been around for some time. Love that has gone through ups and downs and to hell and back. Love that has grown stronger and stronger as the years passed and shaped you into new people. Love that has no end. Love that goes to the moon and back (except like, a million times).

“Right.” You smile. “It’s still all yours.”

Summer, 1969; 1 Day Before Launch

Elliot is so tall that he can finally reach the doorbell of Jaemin’s modest suburban house when you arrive for the house party he decided to throw the day they were given off before the Launch. He used his big smile and promises of some of his wife’s delicious ribs he’s always talking about to convince Mark to come.

It takes about two minutes until Jaemin’s bright face appears from behind the door. He smiles upon seeing Mark, going in for a side hug immediately. “Ohh, Mark. I’m glad you could make it.”

He moves to you and give you a brief hug, telling you its been too long since you last saw each other and that it’s nice to see you again. He ruffles Elliot’s hair and bends down to his height. “Look at you! You’ve gotten so tall!”

Elliot giggles, “Mommy says I grew 4 inches!” To emphasize, he holds up 4 chubby fingers. Jaemin’s eyes widen and he plays along.

“No way!”

The three of you laugh as Jaemin leads you into the house finally. It's full of people, some talking, others eating and some dancing in the spacious living room. The atmosphere is wonderful. The kind you wish to be in all the time.

Jaemin’s wife- Victoria- finds you as soon as you walk in, excitedly greeting you and Mark before dragging you off somewhere. Elliot makes friends with one of Jaemin’s twins, Gaby, and sits down on the floor to play airplanes with her.

Mark and Jaemin find their way to the backyard, sitting down as they sip on cold beers.

Jaemin coos as a big golden retriever approaches him excitedly and licks his hands. Jaemin turns to Mark. “This is the only other man in the house, Jojo.” Mark laughs, petting the dog who instantly leans into his touch, enthusiastically licking Mark’s hand to show his appreciation. “He’s gonna protect my girls while I’m gone.” Jaemin looks down at the dog who watches him unaware of the task he was given. “Right, buddy?”

The dog barks back, as if answering. Jaemin laughs, “That’s right!”

Mark watches with a smile. “Maybe I should get a dog for Elliot when I come back.” Mark realizes this is the first time they had ever talked about what would happen after the launch. It makes him feel assured in some way.

Jaemin smiles softly, “I’m sure he’d like that.”

The party goes by quickly, to you and Mark’s dismay. Lucy drops by with her sons, Mark remembers you had mentioned the party to her. Still, he was pleasantly surprised to see her there. She is sporting a big smile and a pretty baby blue dress.

“Lucy, hi!” Mark says as the woman hugs him tight.

They engage in small talk until Lucy tells Mark she has something for him.

They walk out on the front patio. “I thought really hard about but I concluded it was for the best.” She opens her handbag and pulls out something that seems to be wrapped in layers of newspaper. She hands it to Mark, who unwraps it carefully. Eyes widening and immediately becoming teary as he sees the badge. “Those are his wings. Please take it with you when you go up there, it will make me feel like he completed his mission.”

Mark runs his hand over his face, wiping his tears. “Yes, of course.” Lucy nods, smiling, looking off at the road.

“Johnny would be really proud of you, you know.” She says. “He would always come home and go on and on about how good you were and how much he wanted to see you succeed.” She looks at Mark, touching his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “That man really cared about you. You were his best friend.”

“He was mine.” Mark says, in a shaky voice. Clearing his throat, “I’m sure I don’t have to mention how many times he talked to me about you, right? He was crazy about you.” Lucy smiled bashfully, somewhat sadly.

“Well let’s not make it a competition now…” she says with a laugh. “He never let me forget how much he loved me.” She adds after sometime, bringing a hand up to wipe her cheek where one tear had managed to slip.

Mark steps closer to her and rests one hand on her shoulder, and clutches Johnny’s badge with the other. “I will make sure Johnny completes this mission with me, and that he goes down in history for everything he did.”

Just like that the days became hours.

Summer, 1969; 7 Hours Before Launch

You were awake hours before the alarm went off. So was Mark, the two of you laid side by side, facing each other in silence for hours that night until Mark’s alarm went off before dawn. He doesn’t break eye contact with you as he reaches over to switch off the alarm.

He will admit, he’s scared if he takes his eyes off for even one second everything will become too real for him to handle. He traces a delicate hand down the side of your bare arm slowly, trying to memorize what your skin feels like.

You are the first to break the silence. “You should have breakfast before you go.”

Mark nods, but stays where he is. Not moving a muscle. Not until his alarm rings again, reminding him that time is ticking. You shut it off this time, pulling him out of bed and into the bathroom for his morning routine. “Just think of it as a normal day of work.” You say. Mark nods and undresses to shower in front of you. He leans towards you and wraps you up in his arms, bringing you close to his naked body. Mark reaches a hand up to unclip the gold clip that held up your hair, letting it fall down.

“Shower with me? Please.”

So you do. Solemnly washing his jet black hair for him as he just relishes in your presence for a long as he can.

After your shower, you prepare breakfast as Mark goes into Elliot’s room. The little boy is sound asleep, sleeping all curled up just like you do. Mark can’t help but let out a sad smile. He sits on the edge of Elliot’s bed and brushes his fingers through his son’s hair, careful not to wake him. His voice carries out into the room with a whisper.

“I’ll be back home, Elliot. I promise.” He doesn’t notice he is crying until he sniffles lightly. “And I’ll get you a dog like one Uncle Jaemin has, he said you would like it. I think so too.”

He receives nothing but soft snores in response, he leans down and presses a long, firm kiss onto Elliot’s forehead. “I love you. To the moon… and back.”

Mark feels like all his pennies have been spent as he stands across from you at the door way. He had told himself this would be the worst part, (and he was right) but he also told himself he wouldn’t be like this. However, he can’t help it. Not when the fear of this possibly being the last time he sees you creeps up on him.

You pull him into a final hug, scratching his back soothingly and trying to engrave how his warmth felt to your memory. Mark’s fingers shakily clutch the fabric of your nightgown, scared to let go even when you attempt to pull away. “Just a little longer.” He whispers.

You feel a tear fall down your cheek down your neck, you wipe it away as you step away from him.

“Don’t do that.” You say sternly. “Don’t act like we won’t see each other again. Because we are. Everything will be fine, you know that right?” (You don’t know if you’re saying this for him or yourself at this point.)

Mark doesn’t know. Still, “I know.”

He leans forward and presses a long kiss on your lips, your hands cup the sides of his face lovingly. Once he pulls away, he walks slowly at first before suddenly gaining speed and finally reaching his car.

Mark takes one last glance at you.

“I’ll see you later, sunshine.”

Summer, 1969; 5 Hours Before Launch

Jaemin is waiting outside as usual when Mark arrives to the facility. It almost makes it feel like any other work day if it weren’t for the tears rolling down Jaemin’s cheeks Mark sees when he finally reaches him. It’s the first time he had seen Jaemin cry, he can’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the sight of the usually bright man in such a state.

Jaemin doesn’t seem to notice him at first, Mark places a hand on his shoulder to both alert him of his presence and comfort him. Upon seeing his coworker, Jaemin sniffs harshly, rubbing his hand over his face, forcing a smile at Mark. “Mark, good morning.”

Mark watches the younger man avoid his eyes, looking down at his clothes and the floor.

He thinks of what Johnny would do, since he always knew what to do. He rubs Jaemin’s shoulder. “Everything will be alright.”

Jaemin bites his lip, balancing himself on the balls of his feet restlessly before looking back at Mark. “I know, but I can't help but worry.” Mark knows the types of thoughts going through Jaemin’s head, and he would love to do anything to ease him, however, all he can do is listen. “Those are my girls, man. My wife and my babies, if I don’t come back they’re gonna be all alone.” Jaemin makes himself more emotional with the thought. “I’m supposed to protect them.”

Mark feels a lump in his throat. He has never heard Jaemin talk so negatively, he wants to tell him that he knows exactly what he is feeling right now and that he should be worried. He remembers his plan of doing what Johnny would do.

“I am worried about that too, if I’m being honest.” He starts, Jaemin looks up at him. “I’m scared Elliot will grow up without a father and I’m scared of making my wife a widow. Terrified, even.” Mark’s eyes find Jaemin’s -who waits for Mark’s next words patiently. “But then I think of why I decided to do this. To make them proud, to give them everything they could ever need and want. Because they told me I could do it, and I know they would never lie to me. Because they supported me everything step of the way and always believed in me.”

“Johnny used to say this thing that I carry with me every day.” He pauses. “For them, because of them. Whenever I was worried about anything I would tell myself this over and over.”

Jaemin smiles, “For them, because of them.”

Mark nods. “You’ll see your girls again, Jaemin. Just so they can say how proud they are of you.”

The other pilot smiles, nodding. “Thank you, Mark.”

Mark smiles, feeling better than when he arrived. Feeling like if Johnny were here right now, he’d clap a hand on his shoulder and tell him he’s all grown up, laughing at Mark’s seriousness. He’d tell Mark he made it and Mark would smile.

Because he did.

Summer, 1969; 2 Hours Before Launch

Mark can barely hear the questions being asked over the loud flashes of the bulky cameras being held by the interviewers and journalists. They had been informed there would be a press conference before the launch, which is why him, Kun and Jaemin are sat a long table behind name plates that stated their names and positions in the mission.

Mark squints his eyes at the short woman who was selected to ask a question.

“Hello, I have two questions for Mr. Lee, as the commander of the mission do you feel any added pressure?” He almost says that he absolutely does, (which would be the truth) but he knows that as commander his duty was to reassure the team and keep everything in control.

“I think, uh-” He clears his throat, “I don’t feel that much pressure due to the fact that i know i have a good team backing me up.” He gestures to the men next to him, who smile nod at him.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Says the woman, “My second question is: Are there personal items you will take with you on this journey?”

Mark thinks about Johnny’s badge that sits in the pocket near his chest, and the small pebble Elliot had given him months ago. And the hair clip he snatched out of hair this morning that is clipped to the right wrist of his undersuit. He chuckles and nods at the woman. “Yes, there are a few.”

“Care to share?”

He shakes his head after a few moments. “Perhaps when we return. Just know I take many of my loved ones up there with me.”

The rest of the conference passes smoothly, Jaemin answers some questions about his family with a wide smile that leaves everyone in the room’s hearts melted. Kun stuns interviewers with his impressive answers, and even talks of his wife- Pom- who also worked at NASA herself as an analyst.

Mark watches proudly as they speak, thanking the heavens for giving him the team he got, he couldn't even imagine completing this mission with a different set of people.

Summer, 1969; 15 Minutes Before Launch

Elliot’s small hand is engulfed by your bigger one as you pull him along with you to the viewing area of the launch. You can feel the pool of your sweat against your son’s hand and tell yourself it’s just the heat of the summer and not the fact that your husband is about to risk his life.

Once you arrive to the seating area, Victoria and Pom are already there. As soon as they see you they motion you over. Your immediately engulfed in Victoria’s arms, her hug is warm and tight, Pom also takes this opportunity to drape her arms over the two of you bringing you into a group hug. It brings you comfort, and you’re overwhelmed by gratefulness over the fact that you’re not alone in this.

Once you pull away, Victoria’s worried eyes meet yours, there are tears lining her waterline but she still manages to force a smile. “We got this, right?”

You nod, rapidly. Wiping away the tear that fell from your eye and then reaching up to wipe her cheeks as well. Pom rubs your arm comfortingly, no tears in her eyes as she tries to stay strong for the two of you. “Everything will be alright, ladies. They will be back in no time.”

This time, Victoria nods along with you. The three of you walk together to your seats, Elliot sits down next to Jaemin’s twins who immediately invite the boy into their conversation. You smile faintly seeing them interact.

You’re about to mention how cute they are to the others when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn abruptly and are met by Lucy and her three sons. She smiles down at you affectionately. You jump up to hug her, suddenly overwhelmed by emotions, you begin to sob on her shoulder. “T-thank yo-u for coming.” Lucy leans back and wipes your face in a motherly gesture.

“How could I not?” She says in a soft voice. “They’re making history, plus I knew my baby was gonna need someone to be there for her.” It makes you smile that after all these years Lucy still calls you her baby even if the age gap between isn’t much, you remember the day of baby shower and smile softly. Bringing her into another hug, you whisper.

“You’re the best, you know that? You’re so strong.” Her arms hold you tighter and her voice meets your ears not much later, the answer being one you should’ve expected from her.

“I know.”

Summer, 1969; 2 Minutes Before Launch

Mark bites his lip as he listens closely to the words coming through the headset. There’s sweat running down his forehead onto his neck. He looks over at Kun and sees the sheen of sweat on the man’s face as well as he presses all the buttons the person at headquarters is instructing him to press while trying to control the shaking of his hands.

Mark hears Jaemin curse through his headset. “This feels like a dream.” Mark can agree with this but has taken to staying silent for the time being.

He leans back and closes his eyes with a sigh, shifting under his many seat belts. He gulps loudly as mission control call the beginning of the launch.

The three men to their practiced protocol for launch and move to lay flat on the seat as they were told to do.

Summer, 1969; 30 Seconds Before Launch

On land, you bite your fingernails and Victoria looks away in fear. Pom throws an arm over her, and rubs her back but there’s a shake in her hands that gives away her nerves.

In the aircraft, Mark breathes in deeply and thinks of things that calm him. Jaemin has taken to gripping the seatbelts anxiously and Kun rests his head on the back of his chair and sighs out loud.

Your six minds are restless.

Mark thinks about dancing in the living room with you and kissing you after you’ve both had too much wine. He thinks about Elliot crawling into your bed in the mornings. He thinks about the times he and Johnny laughed until it hurt and all the times Jaemin and Kun would crack jokes while practicing for this very launch.

Summer, 1969; 6 Seconds Before Launch

He thinks about his grandfather and what he would say if he saw Mark right now. He thinks about his attic window where it all started, about the tulips your grandmother had planted in her garden.

“5..” He thinks about how you might be feeling right now.

“4..” He hopes you’re not scared.

“3..” He wonders if you’re holding Elliot’s hand.

“2..” He wants you to know he loves you.

“1.”

Summer, 1969; 0 Seconds Before Launch

The force pushes his body flush against the seat of the aircraft, making hard to breathe for a brief moment. The rattling noises are all he can hear as the craft ascends. His hands clutch the seat tightly as he waits for the worst part to be over.

You watch as the rocket blasts off the ground and into the air. Biting your nails and praying to every god that everything goes well.

Elliot excitedly tugs your hand. “Mommy look at that!”

You smile forcefully at him and pat the jet black hair on his head. Then looking up at the craft that holds your everything as it disappears into the sky.

Summer, 1969; 7 Hours After Launch

The voices through the television ring throughout you and Mark’s house giving updates of the coordinates of the spacecraft and telling the billions of people watching that everything is going just as planned.

Victoria, Lucy, their children and Pom have decided to come over after the launch and wait for any news together.

The children are happily playing on the floor in the living room and the woman are talking only briefly and silencing whenever the reporter comes with an update.

Night falls and you are all still in your house, you offered for them to stay in your guest rooms which they accepted. Victoria stayed with her girls in the guest bedroom, Lucy and her three boys stayed in Elliot’s bedroom while Pom slept in the next guest bedroom.

You and Elliot take your bedroom. The little boy lays close to you, cuddled into your side. It's nearing 1am and your eyes are still wide open, you run your hand through Elliot’s hair to try to calm your racing mind. A smile moves onto your lips as you touch his hair, which is a replica of his father’s just like the rest of him.

“Mommy?” You startle slightly as Elliot’s small voice meets your ears and he turns in your hold suddenly.

“What’s wrong, Elliot? Did I wake you?” The boy shakes his head, he leans forward until your noses are touching, he lets out a giggle which makes you smile. You rub your nose on his before leaning back. “What is it then?”

“Daddy’s going to be okay.” He says, “And we’re going to be okay too.” You blink your eyes furiously to mask the burning that arose around them at his words.

You pinch his cheek briefly before kissing his forehead and pulling his head into your chest. “I know, baby.”

“Daddy told me to tell you that.” This makes you chuckle sadly.

“I’m sure he did.”

Summer, 1969; 3 Days After Launch

Once they finally reach the moon, they are instructed to orbit around it a few times while the crew members prepare for landing. The pilots complete this part of the mission and in no time they have the aircraft hovering over the lunar surface. It docks on the surface with no complications. Kun’s takes control of the aircraft, sitting up front as Mark and Jaemin move to the spacious area behind the seats where everything they needed was found.

“Are you ready for this?” Says Jaemin, who is currently stepping into the tight undersuit he was to wear under the space suit. Mark is zipping his up and chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, you?”

“Shitting my pants, but yeah. I feel ready.” Mark knows it’s half truth and half to release the tension floating through the air. It makes Mark and Kun laugh, Mark appreciates the gesture.

The two help each other into their main suit, the bulky expensive material is a lot lighter but also a lot more complicated than it looks. It takes them 10 minutes to completely get their suits on, in this time the crew members at headquarters have stated it was safe to leave the aircraft.

Mark and Jaemin finish putting on their helmets, sealing them and waiting for the oxygen supply to reach the helmet space completely before approaching the opening dock of the aircraft which would lead him to a smaller area excluded from the main aircraft area. An area that was exposed to the lunar surface.

Mark takes a deep breath and reaches for the handle. “You’re making history today, Mark.” Kun says, watching his colleague and long time friend, open the hatchet. Mark turns and smiles at him, he says something but the words reach Kun’s headset a few seconds delayed.

“We’re

making history.” Kun nods, as does Jaemin.

They see Mark off with a good luck.

Once on the other side of the door, Mark immediately reaches for the next door, opening it wide and looking out.

It’s quiet. It’s so so quiet. The only sound being the static of the headset and Mark’s breathing. The sky is vacant of any blinking stars, making it just a black abyss. Oddly enough, Mark finds it beautiful.

The tension begins building up once again as he is instructed to use the ladder latched onto the side of the aircraft to make his descent to the lunar surface. His gloved hands shake violently as he grabs the ladder and steps his first foot on it. Mark takes his time going down the steps, taking deep breaths and pauses after each one until he was finally at a distance where he could step down.

In the calmest voice he could muster, he says. “I will step on the lunar surface now.”

As he lets go of the ladder, and he left boot touches the dusty surface of the moon Mark’s hit with the realization that he finally is that someone. That kid who looked through the attic window that night with his grandfather is that someone. A million thoughts rushing through his head that are interrupted by the sound of cheers and applause through the headset. “Any words, Mr. Lee?”

Mark suddenly remembers the words he had practiced with Mr. Jung a few weeks before the launch and chuckles in disbelief. “It’s one small step for man, but a giant leap for mankind.”

The applause erupted again. Mr. Jung’s voice sounds through the headset. “Not bad. Billions of people are watching you right now.”

Mark seemed to forget that the mission would be broadcasted throughout the world. “They can hear what I’m saying?”

“Yes.”

Mark sighs shakily, “Is it okay, if I say something personal?” Jaehyun hums Yes.

Mark looks at the marble looking place he calls home and feels an overwhelming amount of pride, tears arise in his eyes. “Y/N,” he breathes out, “We did it.”

“One small step for man, but a giant leap for mankind.” Sobs of happiness immediately rack your body as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes. The other woman are around you cheering and some even crying too.

Mark finally got to achieve his dream of being the first man on the moon. You are so unbelievably proud proud of him, you knew no one else deserved it more than him. You cry even harder when Elliot jumps up at the sound of his father’s voice coming from the TV. “Daddy’s on TV!” You laugh and nod at him, pulling him close and kissing the crown of his head, tears still streaming down your face.

“They can hear what I’m saying?” You hear your husband’s voice and chuckle at him asking such a question on national television. However, you freeze when you hear what he says next. “Can I say something personal?”

You’re breathing halts when he says your name, “Y/N,” you lean your head on Elliot’s and close your eyes tightly. “We did it.”

You smile despite the sobs rising within you, you whisper, hoping the messages will somehow get to him. “To us.”

Victoria’s shoulders relax and tears leave her eyes as Jaemin follows Mark onto the moon, and the speaker of the television transmits his excited, “Look at us!” She laughs at her husband’s bubbly behavior and wipes her eyes, leaning over to kiss her two girls, thanking God that at least the first half of the mission went as planned.

Mark and Jaemin spend 2 hours exploring the area before it’s time to board the aircraft. Mark let’s a hand rest on his chest where Johnny’s wings are, he pats them twice. He knows Johnny is probably watching from somewhere and proudly bragging to anyone who would listen that Mark had been the rookie he recruited all those years ago, he tells him in his head that he couldn’t have achieved his goal without his guidance and friendship. They started this together, and they will finish it together.

Summer, 1969; 4 Days and 20 Hours After Launch

The descent of the aircraft to Earth had every person on the planet biting their nails. This part was said to be the most dangerous, due to having the most risks at hand. Also the fact that NASA lost connection to the aircraft and therefore could not contact any of its crew members.

The children were currently taking their afternoon naps, leaving the three of you alone is nervous silence to imagine the worst. “It’s ok,” says Pom, “This was very possible occurrence since the speed they must be going at prevents the connection from staying stable. They’ll report back in a bit.” You take her word for it, she does know more than you do about these things. She is nervous, but you expected her to be since the aircraft carries her beloved as well. You appreciate how strong she has been for you two this whole time, and place a hand above her, hoping the action will express your gratitude.

After waiting an impossible 6 silent minutes, static begins to sound and the three of you perk up. “Houston?” It’s Kun’s voice. Pom clutches a hand over her heart in relief as the crew gets back in contact with headquarters.

Summer, 1969; 7 Seconds Before Arrival

Overwhelming heat is the only way Mark can explain the atmosphere in the aircraft right now, the craft is going in a downwards trajectory a few hundred thousand miles per hour into the Pacific Ocean and Mark briefly fears it might burn up before it gets there.

However, Mark’s fears have no time to become a reality because the aircraft is suddenly splashing down in the ocean.

Mark let’s go a breath he had been holding and thanks god a million times. The mission was a success, and they had arrived to planet Earth safely. Jaemin laughs in relief. “Holy shit, we made it.”

For the first time since the launch, Kun genuinely laughs out loud. “I can’t believe it!”

Mark chooses to stay silent, but is smiling widely, anticipating seeing your face when they finally get home.

Jaemin is the first one to emerge from the aircraft. Immediately finds the camera attached to the helicopter hovering above them and throwing a peace sign, then a kiss which is obviously intended for the crying woman next to you who finally allows herself to breathe for the first time in 4 days upon seeing her husband’s face. Kun is next, Pom cries for the first time and laughs when she sees that Kun opts for an awkward wave at the camera rather a bright entrance like Jaemin did.

You hold your breath, you don’t know why, but you do. And then you see the crown of his head emerging from the opening and let it go. He looks up at the camera only because Jaemin tells him there is one and smiles awkwardly while saluting. You laugh in relief, in happiness, and suddenly Victoria is jumping over you and Pom, causing you both to crash on the couch in a group hug. “They did it!”

All you can do is laugh and cry, but that’s okay. Because the Launch was a success and Mark was coming back home to you.

Summer, 1969; 12 Hours After Arrival

After the arrival, the 3 men go into a mandatory 21 day quarantine at the NASA facility, Mark’s heart ached to see you and he restlessly paced the small room they were given within the confinement area. There was a bed shoved into the corner and a desk in the other, it would’ve felt like a prison cell to Mark if it weren’t for the people who pass by his room every now and then to congratulate him and thank him for his bravery. And although he was grateful for the praise and the nice comments, you were the only thing on his mind.

He is rubbing down his face with both his hands when a female worker wrapped in a protective suit knocks at his door. Mark perks up and rushes to the door, opening it. He greets the woman with a nod. “You have a visitor, Mr. Lee.”

His heart races and he breaks into a smile, the woman chuckles at the man. “Mrs. Lee was very eager to see you as well.”

Mark nods, staying quiet with a smile on his face as the woman leads him down the hall to the room you were waiting for him in. Upon seeing you through the glass division separating you two when walking through through the door, something snaps in him and he instantly runs to the chair set opposite to you and falls weak into it.

You let out a teary laugh of relief as you finally see your love walk up to you. Tears began streaming down his own face now, and he knows if it weren’t for the glass dividing you, you would’ve already wiped them away for him. He leans forward and smile while watching you with loving eyes.

It feels like he can finally breathe. Ever since he made this his dream, he always wondered about all the what if’s of the mission, about whether he would live to see another day or to see Elliot or you. He breathes knowing he no longer has to think of whether that mission could cost him his life, because it didn’t and he's here.

And he is never ever leaving your side.

You motion to the landline phone placed next to you, then to the identical one on his side. He nods, picking it up.

Neither of you says anything. Just sitting in silence and staring at each other wondering if any of this is even real. “You’re okay, Mark.”

Mark sniffles quietly, wiping his tears. He sees your tear filled eyes as well. Words keep leaving you as you try to calm him. “You made it back, thank you for keeping your promise.”

He face contorts as he cried harder, the sound of your voice doing a number on his heart. He looks down at his lap as he cries, you observe your husband with furrowed brows. “Hey Mark,” your soft voice meet his ear and he looks up, he expects you to say something. Instead you bring your left hand up and press your palm against the glass. He does the same on his side, pressing his hand as hard as he can into the glass as if it would break away and allow him to interlace his fingers with your own.

The eye contact you two share is sweet, sad and love filled. Yours eyes conveying so many emotions of relief and happiness.

After a long silence, Mark’s hoarse voice sounds for the first time. “Now, I’ll spend all my days with you and Elliot. I’ll get him that dog I was talking to Jaemin about, a puppy so they can grow up together, you think he’d like that?” His voice is a sweet song that entrances you, all you can do is smile dreamily and nod.

“We would get to work on our second as well.” This makes you laugh, you can tell Mark was trying to brighten the mood.

“Oh hush you.” You say playfully, leaning back in your chair with a wide smile on your face. Mark smiles along with you before adding:

“Maybe a girl this time?” His voice sounds partially playful but there’s also some underlying genuity to his words. “Would- would you like that?” His words suddenly sound nervous.

You feel fresh tears blossom in your eyes, nodding.

“I would like that a lot, Mark.”

Another silence falls over the two of you, but it’s comfortable. Your eyes watching each other; carefully studying every detail of each other’s faces that had already been engraved in your minds. He leans forward and leans his forehead on the glass, eyes watching you as he waits for you to do the same. (You momentarily apologize in your head to the person who has to clean this mirror later on.)

“Hey, Y/N…”

You hum, eyes closed. The air you exhale creates a mist in the area right before your lips.

Mark feels invincible. He always has with you, even when he pushed you away, you still held on and made him feel like he could do anything. With you, in a way, he feels immortal. Like the two of you are engraved in the sky and will forever be sparkling bright in the night sky when the sun finally lays to rest.

“The Gemini twins wish they had a story like ours.”

#mark #mark lee #mark scenarios #nct scenarios #nct mark #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #nct fanfiction #wayv #nct dream #xiaodejunletsact #nct u #kpop fanfic #kpop #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines

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chocolatequeennk · 4 years

Text

Bathed in Starlight

The Doctor has steadfastly ignored his feelings for Rose. But one night, in a beautiful room with a magical swimming pool, he won't be able to deny them any longer.

For @galiifreyrose

Tagging @doctorroseprompts

Swimming pool inspiration pic

Ten x Rose Starts a new series, Starlit Invitations

AO3 | FF.NET

“‘I’ve remembered,’ said Sir Charles, ‘what struck me as odd. It was the ink stain on the floor in the butler’s room.’”

The Doctor blinked. For the second time, he’d gotten to the end of the chapter without registering a single word he’d read. Not that it truly mattered—he’d read Christie’s Three Act Tragedy dozens of times.

But…

Movement just at the edge of his peripheral vision caught his eye. Rose turned the page of the Araxian fantasy novel she was reading, then tucked her hair behind her ear.

How am I supposed to read when she does things like that?

He closed his eyes and pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. There was always tension humming between them, but tonight it was worse than usual. Tonight it made him want to pull her into his arms and…

He shook his head sharply. You can’t do that.

Rose sighed, and the Doctor felt the couch cushions shift. He was just able to brace himself before she rested her hand on his arm.

The simple touch ratcheted up the tension tenfold. Why can’t I do that?

“I’m gonna go to bed,” she told him, her voice soft and tired. “It’s been a long day.”

The Doctor shook his head, falling back on old, comfortable teasing. “You humans… Sleeping your life away.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well we don’t all have your superior biology,” she said, humour removing the sting.

The Doctor winced anyway. And that’s why you can’t, he reminded himself. She’s human, and she’ll…

He swallowed hard. “I’ll see you for breakfast,” he told her.

Rose smiled. “I’ll be there.”

The Doctor held his breath until she walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind her, he picked up his book again. Now that she was gone, the tension would fade, just like it did every night.

But tonight, the air kept buzzing around him. After he failed to read the chapter yet again, the Doctor threw his book down and tugged at his hair. “Focus,” he growled at himself.

As if in response, the tension sharpened and shifted to a restlessness he knew all too well. Timelines were shifting somewhere.

“Well, no use sitting here then,” he muttered and jumped to his feet. Shifting timelines left a buzzing feeling under his skin. It was impossible to sit still when you felt like a faint electric charge was coursing through your body.

The TARDIS hummed around him as he left the library and took to the corridors. They often roamed together when his time senses sharpened, two time sensitive beings sharing the moment with the only other person who could understand.

A soft sound caught his attention and he stopped to listen for a moment. It sounded like… splashing? Water swishing around?

The Doctor turned the corner and frowned when he came face to face with an unfamiliar door. “Where does this lead?” He tilted his head and listened; this was definitely where the sound was coming from. “And why do I hear water?”

The corridor lights flickered and the door opened with a nearly silent snick, inviting him to peek inside.

His eyebrows rose when he saw a colonnade built from yellow stones. The room was lit by sconces on the wall, and the soft glow of candlelight turned everything golden.

Feeling like showing off? he teased the TARDIS. She whistled at him, and the door opened a fraction more.

The Doctor’s gaze traveled up the columns to where they appeared to disappear into midnight blue. He could only see a glimpse of the starry sky, so he took a step inside to see exactly what the TARDIS had created.

The columns surrounded a swimming pool, but it wasn’t the way the stars glittered on the water that made his breath catch in his throat.

Rose was swimming laps down the middle of the pool, gliding easily through the water. The Doctor watched, entranced, as she moved in and out of shadow, her body bathed in shimmering starlight.

He didn’t realise he’d stepped fully inside the room until he was leaning against a pillar, watching her with rapt amazement. He could still feel the tug of his time senses, but the urge to move had faded completely. He was exactly where he wanted to be.

But… Where am I? He looked around the room again. This wasn’t his pool. Not the right door, not the right room, not the right pool. So how...

Rose flipped over and did a few lazy backstrokes. “She made it for me, I think.”

The Doctor wasn’t sure how she knew he was there, but he shrugged and took a step forward so he was standing halfway in light. “Why’s that?”

“It just… appeared one night when I needed to unwind.” She spun slowly in place and started treading water. “Remember Ocalia?”

The Doctor’s hand flexed; oh, he remembered Ocalia and the prince who had claimed the gods brought Rose to be his bride. “Yes,” he bit out.

“Well, after I left you in the library, I just… I couldn’t go to bed. Too tense, I guess. And this room appeared. Now I come here any time I need some alone time, or just to relax after a hard day.”

The Doctor felt his face turn hot. Oh well done, Doctor, he berated himself. Find Rose’s private space, sneak into it, and then watch her from the shadows like a creepy perv.

He shifted his weight, ready to turn and leave her in peace. But first, he had to apologise. His mouth was open, apology on the tip of his tongue, when he heard words he never expected.

“Join me?”

His jaw dropped. “But... you said... relax… alone!”

Rose’s laughter finally loosened his tongue.

“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion.” He gestured at himself, still in his full suit.

Rose swiped her tongue over her lips, and suddenly the Doctor’s body went hot as he imagined what she would say next.

“You’re wearing pants, aren’t you?”

That... that was not exactly what he’d thought she would say, but he reluctantly acknowledged that it was more logical. “Well, yes.”

Rose nodded. “Then join me,” she repeated.

The Doctor hesitated for another moment. He had been able to ignore the twisting timelines for a while, but in the last few minutes, he’d felt the restless energy creep back under his skin.

But this is a relaxing place, isn’t it?

He loosened his tie, keenly aware of Rose’s gaze the whole time. The air felt heavy around him as he shrugged out of his jacket, and his fingers trembled as he started working on his shirt buttons.

Come on, pull yourself together, he chided himself. This isn’t… You aren’t stripping for Rose. Not like that anyway. You’re just going to swim together… you’ve done that loads of times.

He felt the TARDIS’ exasperation with him a moment before her song changed pitch. The discordant note made him cringe, but he got the message—this was different, and he knew it.

Yeah, but not… different different, he argued, getting another, sharper whine in response.

“I dunno what you’re thinking over there, but could you maybe stop?”

The Doctor glanced at Rose and frowned when he noticed she was rubbing at her temple.

“That note hurt.”

The Doctor’s fingers froze on his zip. “You heard that?” he demanded. Heard and understood was implied.

Rose nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been able to understand her for a while.”

Since the Game Station—also implied and understood.

The Doctor nodded absently. That explained how she’d known he was there. The TARDIS must have told her.

Normally, mentions of Bad Wolf put the Doctor on edge. What Rose had done… what it had almost done to her…

But tonight, his nerves disappeared with the subtle reference. Because this was Rose, the Bad Wolf, his heart of the TARDIS. This has been inevitable since the moment they met.

He toed off his Chucks, then paused when he felt the shifting timelines solidify. This was the tipping point he’d felt coming. Everything wouldn’t change tonight, but it would start changing tonight.

His fears called to him, but for the first time, he ignored them. Some things were worth getting your heart broken for; wasn’t that what Sarah had said?

He unzipped his trousers with steady fingers, then let them fall. In the light and shadow, he could see Rose’s cheeks turn pink, and he knew she hadn’t been certain he would accept her invitation.

His hearts tugged, and he held her gaze as he entered the pool, willing her to understand what he couldn’t yet voice. I’ll never turn down your invitation again.

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #fic by Nancy #doctorroseprompts #cq's fic: bathed in starlight #romance #fluff #all the tension #this is where things begin

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rpausandwhatifs · 4 years

Text

Is This What You Call...Safety?|| Hush Hush

A/N: This is for my friend Jayde for her belated birthday! Enjoy bb!

@ledabunnie-rp @nevergoodenoughforthetruth

Vincent had came to work, but he had gone through his load entirely too fast. He was mostly at the hands of one guy- and he was the host. However, it was too late to really think about it before the drugs had set in, causing the man to stumble and fumble as the pills he took before the party mixed with the lean in the cup he finished while making sales. He was a blurry mess and somehow guided his way to the closest bathroom he found in a part of this rented house where most of the goers in this area were having sex or chatting it up so they could hear. He pushed past them, going into the first open door and falling into it. “Oh..fuck..” he muttered as he almost collided with the wall, feeling the tile and touching the wall as the spinning continued and he found his way into the toilet, vomiting immediately before finding the flush lever.

Leda forgot that she didn’t lock the door, so the really cute boy in the skin tight chinos and boots with the long hair barged in it scared her half to death. She put her 3DS down and slid her headphones off, about to bang on the glass chamber that was the stand alone shower until something stopped her and it just made her watch the man try to recover as he lit a cigarette.

The man propped himself up and crawled to the top of the toilet and threw the lid down as he took another drag, trying to see where the light switch was even though there was a hue of red and purple from the string lights. Quickly giving up on his adventure he threw up one more time into the bowl and sat up on the closed toilet, dragging his cigarette while he let the cool porcelain calm him down. He heard the distant movements in the shower and pryed one eye open to barely see a girl with turquoise hair in a rave outfit with a backpack or something staring at him in a clear box. "Who's in the shower?" He calls out, rocking his head back and forth fighting the nausea.

"I'm here in spirit..I don't exist," Leda said back, weary at how he was able to spot her.

"That's the most human thing I've ever heard from a spiritual entity," he laughs and scoffs, "That's a cute voice you got, you have a name oh spirit?"

"I'm... not telling you that.." she said, "And you die from a heart attack in here im not saving you."

"Are...you... you're in here.. you're human- fuck i can't see- are you in the shower? Is that why you sound like that?" He asked with a small joke, "Wanna cigarette?"

"Maybe.. if you can't see then how are you smoking and offering me one?" She challenged him.

"Muscle memory. You'd be surprised how many things you can do automatically.. Just with your arms and hands..." he trailed off, "Also you didnt drink out of the cup when you got here? You sound like... crazy sober."

"No..I didn't, Felix told me about it before the party and I just-"

"Wanted to keep your clout you came to this party even though you didn't want to, but you didn't wanna let your friends down, but you didnt wanna just sit at home on a Friday night again..I heard something close, did you bring a video game?" He said.

"Shut the fuck up, Vincen-"

"Ohhh you do know me... interesting. It must be because of Felix... speaking of, wonder who he's got down his throat...Ah, I'll worry about it later...I thought I knew his friends.." he muses, I would remember an ethereal voice like yours.."

"I...I..." she was stuck, she shouldn't have said his name, "Thanks for the compliment, can you go back to quietly being too fucked up on drugs to acknowledge me now?"

"Actually...I've overstayed my welcome at this place anyway.. there's a guy in here and he's... less than thrilled his house got rented out for the debauchery that is horny college students," he mentioned, slowly lowering himself on the floor and crawling to Leda, placing himself against the wall, facing straight ahead with the girl in what would be his peripheral.

Leda's ears perked up, he knows there's a spirit in here? Was he just pulling her leg or what? His eyes were still closed but his voice sounded way better up closer than across the large bathroom. The crackles and creaks of it made her nervous. "There isn't anyone in here," she claims supposedly.

"No... he's dead. The house was sold to a PM that rents houses out for events and vacations..he likes the renovation though...He showed me he carried you in here," Vincent said, "You woke up and immediately tried to protect yourself in the shower."

"Now you're making shit up," she called out wrapping on the glass box.

"If I'm making shit up then how'd you get in here?" He asked and was met with silence, "You don't remember... do you?..He told me you just kinda walked out your house with the lights on.. guess he didn't want you to get hurt- but seriously, how did you not drink the syrup at the door?"

"I poured it out when no one was looking and washed out the cup with vodka and hoped an appletini would calm me down.. cus I got really anxious being around everybody pushing everyone and the music is too loud..." she started, drawing her knees to her chest, "He scared the shit out of me."

Vincent laughed, "Yeah that's how i was when i saw him standing in the middle of the room... Did you want the cigarette? Also i have a valium if you want one.."

Leda smiled when he laughed, feeling way better that someone other than her could see spirits and understood possession. She knew what valium was, and just one couldn't hurt with a cigarette cutting it up, "He tell you how he died?"

"Wife poisoned him.. then shot him.. didn't take the divorce very well... sounds like a gold-digging bitch anyway," Vincent said as he used his to light another for her.

"Wow... you don't wanna share?" She gasped quietly as she slid her hand out of a crack in the door to take the cig.

"That.. would mean I get closer... didn't think you'd want that.. you know who I am..I'm the drug dealer on this campus... You don't know what I'm capable of.." he warns her, finally looking into the glass at the door, "I sold all the things I have so anything at this point is personal stock.. but..I couldn't keep a freebie from a cutie like you holy shit...If I could see you like he showed me, I dunno if I could contain myself.. What color is your hair?" He leans into the glass as his head starts spinning again almost muttering his words. He gets up and takes out a Tic-Tac, fumbling his way to the sink and crunching on it as he washed his mouth out on the faucet, wetting his face and wiping it on a towel before bringing the damp cloth to the floor. He stumbled back to the huge glass chamber on his hands and knees, opening the door and crawling over her and excusing himself before settling next to her.

Leda was shaken to her core at his words, and forgot that he was probably on a few different drugs and high on something else. She couldn't get her mouth to open to create the words. She quickly forgot the question and watched with wide eyes as she no longer was terrified of opening the door when Vincent pushed it back and crawled to her. She was almost shaking as he excused himself. "Purple a-and pink," she stammered, "I have to dye it again..I'm doing black with tips.."

"Hm..i see," Vincent said with a weak nod, pushing his wet hair back again as he exhaled, "I'm sorry I'm trying to come down and this shit is coming in like... waves and.. fuck~"

"What is it specifically?" She asked, taking him in, he looks so interesting yet her eyes darted back to the toilet across the room, "And don't worry I don't need the valium right away..”

"Ah shit right.. the valium.. doing what weed has done for years since the 70s," he chided as he fished a pill bottle out of his pocket, then handing her two pills of different shape and color.

"What's that?" She quickly asked.

"Muscle relaxant..that's for you too..helps the valuim, no psychoactive side effects to speak of...reduces lactic acid," he mentioned, relighting her cig, "I have friends in pharmaceutical chemistry.. they really hook me up and in return they get paid in weed.. down the hatch."

Leda's heart was racing at how he sounded so close to her, lighting her up like a gentleman even as a slumped mess. She smoked quietly as he had fallen into another unconscious stupor while the drugs were doing their job. They were working faster than she expected. "Vincent..." she called to the ceiling, "I'm tired.."

"I thought you would be..i forgot to tell you it acts fast.. but you're fine I promise," he mentioned.

"No I feel amazing, I just...I need something soft to lay on," she sighed.

"How about we go to one of the suites?" He offered, "I can see now if my legs will work."

They get up, getting out of the bathroom in search for unoccupied rooms. Settling on the empty pool house, where they found an open skylight in the bathroom since the doors were locked. They bust in and find the bedroom, resuming their conversation in this California simple and dainty king bed.

"Why'd you lock the bathroom door?" She asked as she lit her own cig even though she just begged him for it.

"You always do that at college parties if you create another entrance to the bathroom.." he said simply laying back on the end of the bed with his legs planted to the floor, bending his head up to see the girl snuggled in his jacket, twisting his body to lay on his stomach, "uhhmm yeah, you lock the door behind you at any party because frat boys with give you a swirly or worse..or someone who's eager to use the bathroom and they're too fucked up to be aware so they do it on you-"

"Ugh that's gross!" She exclaimed, laughing lightly, really allowing herself to enjoy this guy that she barely knew and at most should have hated. He just was so sweet and up her alley for her to ever admit but he undoubtedly made an effort to come to this party for her. She hadn't realized until she looked down and saw him looking up at her again from her feet. She could kill for his eyes and the way he collapsed on her legs to just touch them, it was sending electricity as dull needy aches through her body. "Vincent~... what are you doing?"

"Admiring your body... listening to you talk.. thinking about how i can get my jacket back," he croaks stretching a little, lightly throwing his head back on the bed, "What you thinking?"

"Have you come down yet?" She asked cutely, and instantly panicked at her casual feelings of interaction with him.

"Not all the way, I'd have to sleep it off mostly or something...sex also resets the clock, but...we're not doing that," he mentions while he rubs his eyes, checking his phone.

Her chest caved when he mentioned sex, and even though he wasn't offering it up, she just wondered what it would feel like to be that close with a guy like him. If this is all he usually did, outside of being a homewrecker as she's heard, then maybe he's not a creep. Girls do lie in college for any reason, but always putting themselves at an advantage. "Uhh.." seeped out of her mouth before she bit her lip and tried to disguise that.

"You know I'm looking right at you, right?" He says to her, giggling at her embarrassment, "Don't feel like you have to...I know you've got a problem with peer pressure-"

"I don't!...I don't have a problem with peer pressure..shut up!" She bit at him.

"Rawr...calm down kitty cat, put the claws away..Im just saying. Me mentioning sex kinda made you think," Vincent said, "When's the last time you got some..if you have gotten any- cus I have came across a few virgins..."

"Were they virgins when you were done with them?" She asked tongue in cheek.

"Mostly. I respeected that they didn't want sex...and they're firm in their beliefs that they're still a virgin if thou therein whereto receive or produce cunnilingus... they just want neverending head. It's heroine to them," he explains gesticulating to make it interesting and twisting his voice.

"Isn't that a good thing?" She asked, loosening her grip on the pillow she was holding.

"I don't mind it... but sometimes they're horrible at head and that's all they can do. Girls at this school count the ass too, so even face-fucking is a far cry."

"Oh..okay...Uhhh..I haven't thought about it, honestly.. been kinda dealing with my issues over having sex. The stories I hear about hooking up really have weirded me out.." she's admitted.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked, exaggerating his inflection.

"Unfortunately no.. well, I consider myself a born-again...I don't really remember a lot of the sex I used to have, and since it was... traumatic, to say the least, I'd rather act like it didn’t happen and get more memorable experiences, cus...I heard it's fun if done right," she explained.

"It is...I'll keep it in mind.." he nodded with a smirk, sighing as a weak wave passed thru him.

"Yeah.. but.. you've peaked my curiosity, honestly," she jumped up to say, causing Vincent to turn his head and raise an eyebrow.

"I hardly think that's fair," he said with a giggle, "You took a valium and a muscle relaxant..you'll never cum or cum too much. Im fucked up, and not exactly of consenting or open to communicating during sex like you might need me to..."

"That's... true.. then why touch my legs if you weren't going to?" She asked, a little frustrated, kicking her legs a little.

"See? That's what I'm talking about!... Acting like a brat when you haven't asked for anything," he said, giggling.

"But...I..." she started, realizing herself that he was right.

"You didn't straight up ask for sex.. you implied that it interests you..I can't start anything off implications," he explained, sitting up.

"I know how consent works, don't fucking patronize me!" She snapped shoving his chest with her foot. He falls back and rolls his eyes, which makes her more riled up, throwing his jacket on the floor.

"Leda.. what the fuck?" He asked sitting up on his knees to look at his jacket, "What the hell is your problem?"

"Don't act all fucking innocent! I know you.. you're a damn dog and you would've had me 5 ways to Sunday by now! Rosanna told me how creepy and controlling you are-"

"Thaaaaat's who it is... see i knew it sounded familiar.. You're her rogue drone! I just didn't realize... are you spying on me? Did she send you?" He jumped up once he realized why she knew him, her name would come up with he spoke to Rosanna, possibly whenever they were speaking again.

"Wh-No! She's not even at this party! She's with Mark!" She fussed, "It doesn't mean she's wrong..."

"Uh that's exactly what the fuck it means-"

"Why should I listen to you?" She prodded, folding her arms.

"You've got this fucking far! Wouldn't you want to at least understand my side? Ms. Confectionery Prodigy got some skeletons of her own," he was quick to explain how they had a fleeting relationship that was mostly roleplay meetings and oral and heavy petting. Leda wasn't entirely convinced and he made her promise not to tell anyone before he showed their messages leading up until the first 3 months she was dating Mark. It was Ro no doubt. Her fantastical language and promptness in response, pastry emojis as her signature. Cookie's toys in her explicit pictures.

"That's ridiculous..so she just left you for dead?" Leda asked, knowing she just swore never to speak of this, but she had some questions because he'd seen a side of her not even Mark has seen. And probably never will. "Why?" She asked simply.

"Said I reminded her of her ex. She was in deep with the guy.. he was older so she felt like her freedom in her youth had kinda been held back, so she went after me and Mark because she just... found herself in the middle of being young at heart but feeling grown and confident...I guess.. but she's always worried about her lies being found out and she loves a secret if she can help it," he said with a shrug, "They way she spoke about him, I'd love to drink with him, but, she's just happy where she is and who was I to stop her? If she hadn't made me a villain then she would have lost everything- from her confidence to her credibility."

"So you just... leave her alone? That's..that's," Leda was almost at a loss, but it was both the most mature and childish and high school thing she had ever heard. This felt like the heaviest thing she's encountered in a while.

"Not for you to think about," Vincent said, quickly and low as he had inched closer to brush her hair behind her ear, "Humans are complex creatures.. weaving these dangerous webs of lies and history.. you should always worry about your own but don't ever give anyone the benefit of the doubt.."

Leda couldn't handle his gentle touch or his words, she wanted to still be mad and hate him for it but she didn't know how. She wanted to be mad at Ro for being such a hypocrite but most of that was pushed back when she felt his lips on her jawline. It made her shudder and lean into him, submitting herself into the kiss that could replace her first kiss. She wanted more, she wanted him. Her mouth pushed out little sounds against him, whining quietly when he pulled back and breathed with a smile. "Vincent~" she breathed, her head in a tizzy.

"You want it don't you?" He asked, his lower voice sending shivers through her body.

"Can I have more, though, ..of what you gave me?" She asked, "I-"

"Later, okay?.. You'll be fine without it," he interrupted her with a soft smile and backing up to give her space to breathe and rubbing her back.

“Uhm...I feel like-”

“You’re overwhelmed...it’s okay. You seem confused, and it scares you a little...”

“I wouldn’t say it scares me..I just have never related to someone I now wish I hadn’t met..so much so..Because..Rosanna...Rosanna would-” the girl gasped and controlled her hollow breathing, definitely happy she had his hand on her back to focus on.

“You don’t know what Rosanna would do..and you really thought you’d known her..is that it?” he asked.

“Y-Yes!..N-No~! I-I mean...I don’t know how I feel~ I’m really into you, but...but why me?!” she asked looking at him with slight exasperation.

“You look like you deserve not to be living in someone’s shadow just because you don’t see yourself that way,” he answered.

“Is that what you said to Rosanna?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No..what I said to Rosanna to start our whole fling is..vastly different from just us talking about a mutual friend-”

“What about my current state makes you think I’m gonna be friends with her-”

“You wouldn’t throw her away for me..”

Leda leered at the Vincent and clenched her jaw, knowing that this whole night was something she’d throw her whole life away just so she’d know where in the world he’d whisk her away to and for how long. “And what if I did?” she asked at a low whisper.

“What do you think you’d deserve for doing that? Because I definitely didn’t ask you to renounce your gods and join my great legion of the undead...”

“This would totally work if I was a Virgo or a Taurus, but I’m a Leo, so you must not understand-”

“I’m a Sagittarius, and I’m attempting to be very patient but since I know I don’t have to I’ll call you stupid to your face. That would be one of the dumbest decisions you could make but the fact that I make you feel like you’d rather make that decision than live with the ‘what-ifs’ or knowing that you could never look at Rosanna the same way again because I arouse you intellectually and emotionally-”

“Don’t forget sexually-”

“And sexual- Really?” Vincent looked over at her.

“You talk a lot, I see why she liked you...”

“You hate talking about yourself-”

“I can talk about myself-”

“You can’t even tell me you want to have sex with me let alone that you like me..also, I feel like that should be thought about after tonight...given the circumstances,” Vincent sitting up, backing away from her more. It causes the girl to stare at him at the loss of touch completely, pushing out a frustrated sigh. The air was tight to her, but Vincent rolled his eyes and pulled the glass rod from his jacket pocket in front of her and smoked out of it.

“So...could you maybe stop being an aloof prick and explain to me how to get laid?” she said while pulling the ponytail out of her hair and taking the rod from his fingers and smoking out of it.

“You want to fuck me specifically or you want some faceless hookup?” he asked giggling.

“What exactly is a faceless hookup, Vincent?” she asked, her eyes meeting his again for the first time in a while and still couldn’t keep herself together. His hand was gently over hers and she deciding on playing with his fingers, biting her lip.

“Well, first off, you’d have to take off your clothes...then I’d suggest a brief makeout session before first or second base- given that my way of doing these things is slow mostly-”

“I dunno if I have the patience for slow,” Leda said quickly as she slid off the side of the bed and stood up, pulling her pants down and deciding to undo the knot that kept her shirt up, hiding her midriff. Then got back to Vincent as he tried to watch, but his mind flowed with ideas. He pushed himself forward, planting his feet on the floor and taking off his boots. He looked up at Leda, who was waiting for him patiently, which made him smirk as he stood up and gave way to his jeans.

“You don’t have the patience for slow?” he echoed.

“Nah, never did. Guys usually don’t take their time with me or they had made up their minds already and I hadn’t gotten a choice,” she explained, hoping her shirt hid her thighs rubbing together at the crooner in front of her. She could feel her anxiety rise in an interesting way as Vincent saw right through her. “Vincent-” she didn’t mean to breathe.

He raised his eyebrows as he heard the wind whisper his name, and he quickly moved around her to make the back of her more aligned to the back of the bed. She gasped a little as she heard his phone and wallet hit the nightstand and did a magician’s gesture to make a condom appear between his fingers, “Not yet, though.”

“Why?” she asked.

“You tell me,” he said, gently taking her waist into his hands and Leda could barely hold in her exhale and moan as it felt so slight as her body moved into it. All of the thoughts started flooding and so did the memories. She felt like he could be there at any second, but there was Vincent blocking him. Her body ached a bit at how he just froze. “Your lips look so soft and plush..and I like your hair down like this.”

The girl tried to hide, but it was met with another squeeze, “V-Vincent~” she sputtered as he kept yanking her out of her head, feeling the muscle relaxants and the weed mix.

“You alright, babe?” he asked softly in her ear, being sure to not touch her elsewhere. Leda didn’t understand why she felt this way.

“No..” her voice shook as she gulped, “My head’s going crazy but my body’s not..and I want to be terrified, but that’s..just..not what I’m feeling...What was in that tube thing?..” She finally asked.

“Weed obviously...not even the stuff I sold tonight. It’s a preview from the guy I buy off of-”

“I don’t really smoke grass-”

“Is it because THC can be a psychostimulant?”

“Ye-yes!..I feel like-” she cut herself off and took in his cologne instead. She couldn’t let him know what all she was thinking. It wouldn’t make sense. She would look more certifiably crazy then. Her mouth pushed out half of moan as she exhaled his scent where she tasted the cigarette and the fact they had been at a college house party.

“I was gonna tell you to take a deep breath but you did it already-”

“Are you...Are you gonna fuck me or not?” she balled up her fists.

“If you would let me fucking finish and stop interrupting me solely to say something that would piss me off then yes!” Vincent said as he let her sides go and folded his arms.

“Not my fault you drugged me and are taking your time..” she folded hers and looked away from him, not wanted to meet his eyes.

“So what, I was supposed to brazenly assau- Ooooohhhhhh....You’re not mad at me..And...I just became mad at myself for realizing it-”

“What?” she asked, whipping her head towards his.

“You don’t know how to enjoy it, because you’ve never been given the option..nor the opportunity,” he mentioned, returning his hands to her sides quickly.

“What?!” Leda asked, more surprised and now sent back through those thoughts of him touching her again, “You do-don’t know if I-”

“You told me you did..I dunno if it changed..did it?” putting slightly more pressure to allow her to embrace him.

“Ugh~..no..” she once again cursed herself on the inside from only getting a hug from being revved up by his hands lingering on her waist and lower back. Part of her just wanted to let go, or at least tell him to- since part of her completely trusted him. He passed the tests. He was so close to figuring her out and it angered her how clandestine he could carry himself through it all. Her body relaxed into the long hug and waited for this to not be real. For Vincent to pop a hard-on or something so that she knew he was doing all of this because he was still plastered and wanted to bed her. It was hard to expect him to do that when he would talk and his hands wouldn’t really move. And when he moved he tried to stay quiet. Leda’s arms started to move once again, snaking her arms up and crossed them behind his neck, “B-be...be gentle, alright?” she pulled back slightly to meet his eyes- gods those eyes- and his hair in his face before kissing him.

Leda was at Vincent’s again, no longer afraid of him or his touch, if anything, he’s the only one whom she trusted. Before she would be ready to fight if anyone tried to touch her, and obviously Vincent was given exclusive access. However, Vincent had to always do something to salvage their experiences, and there were times where he didn’t have it in him.

The fresh couple lived through such a visceral honeymoon stage that Leda couldn’t think that a guy could have loved her more than the one who was after Cameron. She tried so hard not to think about it. One evening Leda was excitedly waiting for Vincent in the car while he made a sale. This is how they started dating and it just became something she found herself doing before she stopped staying in her dorm and sleeping at Vincent’s apartment. He came back and put everything in the trunk before getting in the car and only resting his head in his arms over the steering wheel with a huge sigh.

“Baby..you ok?” she asked as she sat up and rubbed his back.

“No..” he said quietly, desperately trying to keep himself together.

“Well..we..we gotta go..or..are we going somewhere?” Leda said, looking up and looking around.

“I have to go back in there...It’s not like..I mean you don’t care right?” he finally says when he sits up and pushes his hair back.

“How can you even ask me that question?” Leda looked at him, coming off louder than she expected, “What do you mean?”

“We’re not...This isn’t..Look it’s a party in there and...I wanna be single tonight. Like my boss, he’s- fucking treating me to the party in there and I can’t tell him you’re in here and you don’t do parties so-”

“I never said I don’t do parties. I don’t do party drugs and uncomfortable situations-”

“Your whole life is an uncomfortable situation, Leeds,” Vincent chuckles lightly, reaching in a pocket for his cig he started before he went in the first time, “It’s not gonna take me that long, babe..”

“Wait! You’re actually going back to the party?” she pushed her hand on his chest, then shook her head slowly, “What the fuck?”

“I’m going back in, yes. To enjoy the party? No...To probably get my dick sucked by a drunk Sean McLoughlin cus he’s been walled up and he said he would?..Yea-” he gave her some theatrics before turning away.

“NOO!” she snatched his shoulder, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“What? You’re not going to do anything about it. And it’s not gonna change anything with..us..per say...it’s just I’m having sex with Sean tonight,” he tried to explain.

“I’m not fucking stupid! That’s if I allowed you to! Who put you at the head of this relationship?” she looked at him, perplexed and angry.

“Who put you at the head of this relationship? Listen, half of this problem is the fact that I fuck other people. The other half would be the disrespect of dishonesty and I’m not giving you that!” he said trying to deescalate the situation.

Leda was so upset and couldn’t believe that he was just trying to brush off cheating in her face. He had brought up a few good points, so maybe he doesn’t understand how this hurts her, “Ok but you’re not respecting my additional choices, the fact that I may feel some type of way about it- You just came in here and told me you’re gonna fuck Sean!”

“Is it because it’s Sean specifically?” he asked, pulling back a little.

“Urgh! No! Well-..no, because...I should call Mark because he should be home right now,” Leda tried to say, feeling caught up by his question and now enraged that she felt anything because he was still in the wrong.

“We can drop him off,” he shrugged and chuckled before looking over to her, “Oh come on! I wouldn’t not stop the car or anything like that. I’d make sure he’s sober or at least hydrated...but he looks like he could blow off some steam and he gets a safe ride home. You can bring him in his dorm, tuck him in, let Mark know he got back in one piece- fuck! Knowing Musclebound Buffpants he’s probably on his way because Sean probably called him accidentally on purpose.”

“He’s with Ro tonight..she told me he’s being held hostage for the night,” she interjected with not as much energy, “Why won’t you take him in? You’re the guy!”

“I’m in the running to apply for Alpha president..I don’t have good luck with being seen in a good light..You know that, you came from the factory,” Vincent scoffed, before finishing the cig and flicking the butt out of the window and blowing the smoke with it, “And so because Ro is with her future husband, you have to play pretend with me?”

“No! Can’t we just...like hang out?! What the fuck is your problem?” Leda snapped at him, throwing her hands up.

“This! This moment right now and everything about it is my problem, Leda!” Vincent snapped back, “Answer me this, am I your boyfriend?”

“No, I-”

“Right. Not your boyfriend. And you’re not my girlfriend. You won’t let us call us an us...and why is that again?”

“Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Ah no..sorry, we were looking for you care too much about Ro’s opinion and your social status with her friendship.”

“No I fucking don’t! I don’t need to be with her like that!” she defended weakly.

“Listen, if you don’t like what I’m doing then take my car and do whatever the fuck you want and I’ll call you in an hour. Go back to my place, go fuck someone else, go have a some weird lesbian fantasy about your best friends and deny it in an attempt to keep them because you know you don’t have a chance. Go hang with someone else, actually fucking take your meds and do your homework for once-”

“Shut up, Vincent!” she yelled as she shoved him, causing him to abruptly get up, slamming the door shut and wrangling his car key off his ring and tossing it in the car. Leda had screamed when he shut the door, holding her arms up defensively as she heard the keys fly into the car through the driver’s window and hit the dashboard.. the girl cried for several minutes and contemplated going into the party, but it was too dangerous. She realized she shouldn’t have come with him. She takes his car and has a night out of her own, knowing Charlie was probably aching for some human contact.

Vincent couldn’t believe he actually was able to move in. He was already so excited to be the Alpha house president, even if not everyone agreed with him. Rosanna dutifully worked under him and kept herself busy, vowing to herself and to Mark that they almost never see one another unless it concerns the house. Vincent could still see every moment they had together. He doesn’t ignore her lingering looks and touches while they tried to quickly check and proof records and evaluations and documents for the house. She didn’t regret no looking back when she could still steal glances from the very corners of her eyelids and faintly think of Mark for a second. Allowing their imagery, their voices, their strength to overtake her for a fleeting moment before she was brought back and remembered the business at hand.

Since Leda disappeared with his car a few weeks back, Vincent hadn’t a clue what came over her after one fight on one night. She hadn’t known where she’d gone, but didn’t know what Cyr had done with the things of hers that she left. She went up to the registry and seen that Cyr lived in Alpha now. She had remembered him very vaguely discussing running for Alpha president, but hadn’t really cared about it at the time- she thought he wouldn’t get it. Vincent was going over the printout of the proposal for an event that Rosanna had suggested to boost revenue and new pledge turnout when he got a shiver, and it made him play it off by rolling his neck. “You ok?” Ro cooed, rubbing his shoulders, Vincent sinking in.

The girl had found out that he had done away with his off-campus apartment for Greek Row, so she took the long walk going up from the office. Ro hadn’t been this sweet on him, and she didn’t know what came over her in this moment to try her luck- to see if it still pulled the same, to see if it was still like lighting a fuse, to see if he remembered her. She couldn’t help herself taking in his relaxation into her hands and watching him push his glasses off, “Ah..yeah uh...You’re just gonna have to come back for the second..revision...tomorrow- I..I don’t think I’m gonna get this done,” he said, rubbing his face and taking a few more breaths before taking both her hands in his swiftly and gently, bringing them on top of one another, and closing them in his as he directed her to come from behind him. He locked eyes with her as he slowly stood up, towering over her as he let her hands fall, hearing the light gasp as her hands fell. The lanky man turned back around, having already excusing himself past her to start gathering the papers on the table, at her noise, “You alright, doll?” he asked plainly and still killed her.

Leda knew somewhere that maybe if she could admit her side of the story, things would be smoother. She could definitely talk to Ro about Cyr than to Cyr about Ro, and since no one can know, it felt even more important. She admired all the people around and the new faces for a mundane weekday on campus as she strolled onto Greek Row, seeing the lights on and the Congratulations banner still up from his apparent celebration. Vincent felt the shiver again as he put his shirt back on and played it off by adjusting it. Ro was long gone, but it was another isolated moment of quick stimulation. All she ever wants is to be touched, and he knew all the right spots and loved the noises she made when he did get them just the right way. It didn’t worry Leda much that Ro wasn’t answering her phone at this time of day, she probably fell asleep after a brisk walk with Cookie. Joey sang her praises for her return and spoke of the boy who’s car she’d stolen and no longer had. “Leda~..wow...I wasn’t sure what happened, but you can come get all your stuff- uh...I dunno if you wanna talk or anything-”

“Who is she?” Leda asked, pushing past him and wiped her finger across his lips then showing him, “Whoever it is, it’s a cute color..”

“Leda, I think you owe me an explanation-” he said flatly, pulling off his shirt entirely and wiping his face.

“Is my room in here still good?” she asked as she immediately started picking out and finding clothes. She was safe here again, she didn’t need to hide.

“I let them give it up for more room, we had an influx of- Stop that...Leda, talk to me-” he said, strolling over before getting a hand to the chest.

“Congrats on becoming President, baby~! How about..we celebrate?..Just you and me! Just like before! Hm? I wanna take a shower first, though, cus I’ve been...traveling all day,” she led him into the bathroom as she turned the shower on.

“Can we talk while you shower?” he asked, standing and filling the doorway, “You know this whole suite is mine. So it really is just us.”

“Nah..you, me, the spirits I brought with me and that are on these grounds, the gods and goddesses, and Rosanna’s lace dainties?” she said as she picked the light lace cheeky underwear on the bathroom floor, “Let me take my shower alone, please.”

Vincent sat out and cleaned up his room a little bit, chain-smoking as he wasn’t sure what was going to happen when the girl got out of the bathroom. Leda didn’t really understand how she felt the way she did, and why she wasn’t angry at Ro. Why was it a little more interesting to know she was still going to Cyr to get her rocks off? She opened the door to Vincent’s surprise, not wearing anything else but her t-shirt bra and a dainty lace thong. Her hair falling over her curves just right, and he couldn’t help but follow her with his eyes. She had grown up into her shape more, maybe not as much colour on her still plush soft skin, but there’s now tattoos and her hair is as vibrant a colour can be when he met her. She smiled at him, even though she wasn’t smiling on the inside, and she straddled his waist on his bed. She lured him into a kiss and an energy boost he’d missed from her- the world felt more at balance and it made sense with their lips pushed together. “I missed you..so much..” he breathed, unable to hold back his overwhelming comfort.

“Your car broke down and I left it on the side of the road in Oregon..I sold the drugs out the trunk and ran into some ex...problems,” Leda started, “Did some cat and mouse and travelling and yeah..I..I missed you, too Vincent~”

“That’s fine...but..why’d you leave in the first place?” Vincent asked laying back as she worked on kissing his neck and grinding. The girl stopped and avoided his eyes, “Leda...Leda baby you can tell me..I’ve been waiting about a year to know...” he reassured her as he leaned up to embrace her and kiss her shoulder.

“I-....I..He said he was gonna find me, and the stick had a plus on it and I was gonna show you when we got home, but even I didn’t wanna go home so...” she stiffened as she explained, moving her fringe out of her face, shrugging.

“You were pregnant?” he asked, eyes immediately darting down, “Did you lose it?”

“I...I just didn’t want you to get upset and I didn’t want him to find me if I-”

“Ok Ok...I don’t care about that..What happened to the baby, Leda?” he asked her pulling her in and rubbing her back.

“I lost her...” her voice broke, “I can’t have kids...he’ll find me. He did this to me...”

“Hey, hey, hey...Hey, look at me, Leeds. Alright?..I’m not mad about the car..I’m not mad that you had to handle things with your ex..and I’m not mad about the baby...” Vincent said, “I just wanted to know if you were ok..And that I wasn’t holding your stuff and you didn’t need it anymore..”

Leda couldn’t help her tears and was so glad she had a fresh naked face to let herself cry in. “I-I-It’s not that I didn’t want her, I just..she didn- I dunno what happened...” she tried to say while she cried.

“It’s alright, babe..Don’t worry. She’ll come when she’s ready, okay? And when she does I have no doubt she’ll be as beautiful, smart, and creative as her wonderful mother,” Vincent said, rubbing her back some more, “Listen, next time you get knocked up, I’ll take care of you...I’ll make sure nothing happens to you...I’ll keep you safe.”

“Vincent~ you can’t..no one can..he’s always gonna find me,” Leda whined, shaking her head quickly, “He’ll kill you.”

“Not if I kill him first and even then, I’m giving all of this to you. You deserve not to worry. You deserve safety, babe,” he said, “Is that why you were at my apartment?’

“Yes, but you don’t live there anymore-”

“I’m subleasing until I graduate from here...or I get tired of these people finally,” he chided.

“And how long do you think that’s going to last?..Especially if it’s you and Ro..” she started chuckling lightly.

“I don’t think it’s gonna be me and Ro for much longer, anyway,” he sighs, letting the girl off his lap and onto his bed as he got up to start turning the lights down and closing off his room from his office, “Don’t get me wrong- it’s exciting! It really is, but she shouldn’t be doing that. She’s...gonna need that wakeup call.”

Leda sat and waited for him and lit one of his cigs from the box on the nightstand even though he opted for the little glass tube, “What do you mean?”

“She’s still careless, she’s playing with fire...She didn’t want everybody to know but she’s had-like- two scares...She’s gonna tell you when she finds out that you’re back,” he said, hushing his voice like she was in his office. Leda was shocked to say the least, but she liked Vincent for that: he held onto the only side of her she was never proud of.

“Like...pregnancy scares-”

“No STI- yes pregnancy scares! Told me that she didn’t want to get rid of the kid but didn’t want to think of losing the life she was building with Mark and wanted all of the kids she had to be in their happily ever after or whatever shit...you know Rosie..” Vincent snapped, clearly still emotional and indignant, smoking more frequently as he stress-cleaned his room. Leda was stunned. It wasn’t exactly something she expected from someone who craved so much stability and control- safety.

“How...”

“She disappeared. Like three times, She told everyone she went to visit family. I saw her and she stayed with me for like..a few days..and we just hung out how she wanted us to. She never left because nobody could know that she was back yet. So when she did return it was like she picked up Cookie from the sitter on her way home from the airport...I liked it, but..when she told me all of that over those days and she told me about being President and how she would eventually hate me enough to overthrow me and then she’ll have her life with Mark and I’ll leave the Youni...”

“So then...when’s the last time you saw Ro?” Leda asked, frightened slightly by what she heard. And part of her wanted to fight her. It wasn’t much of her business but as a friend and as a human that’s not something she should get away with.

“You didn’t see her going to the Vice President’s suite?..Or the girls’ side? Kitchen?...Cus she literally just left when you had knocked on my door,” Vincent paused and stared at her with a squint.

“Nope,” Leda admitted shaking her head and threw her hands up, “Honestly I didn’t really get here until I told you I lost the baby and by then I kinda knew that I could let it go I guess..because now I feel fine..”

“Weird...I had a weird feeling the whole time she was here that someone was coming..I didn’t think they were alive so I didn’t think anything of it...This is all..you know, Indigenous grounds, not necessarily burial, but sacred space tends to pop up when they’re talking...”

“That’s weird...but highly likely..Western U.S. does have some crazy energy pockets,” Leda said, blushing a little that he knew she was coming, “Are they leftover or residual? The panties, I mean..” She giggled.

“I couldn’t tell ya, but I’d have to guess that she left those in my bathroom because it was very apparent she wasn’t wearing any, but I thought she had come over commando..Didn’t think she committed to the idea while she was in the bathroom. I guess that’s what she’s gonna wait for me to say something about. Can’t lie, I’m gonna miss how smart she is,” he said with a smile and waves of realization of what he liked about the girl after not knowing for so long.

“Clearly not smart enough,” Leda scoffed, “If she’s pulling the ‘I had to go to my mother’s for a summer so I can have an abortion and therapy’ this early in the relationship and they’re still going strong, maybe it’s that you’re not gonna judge her and she can kinda reward herself with you and vice versa- definitely a karmic soulmate...” She smiled again as she realized that they might be a particular soulmate or at least spiritual partner. “Vincent, sit down, please,” she asked sweetly. He sat back down and she rubbed his shoulders, sighing, “I’m sorry, Vince...Like that’s really shitty and I’m..so..sorry, babe..but like that’s what happens when you gamble.”

“It would help if you’d taken responsibility for running out on me fucking months ago,” Vincent bit at her, “Maybe I wouldn’t have leaned on her so much...chasing fucking waterfalls,” he scoffed.

“Wow you’re really gonna sit here and blame me?” she backed up, raising her voice.

“No! I said take some fucking responsibility! Like do you understand how you’re no better sometimes?” he said.

“Oh my- FUCK YOU! Who the fuck are you?!” Leda snapped, shoving his shoulder and getting up.

“Will you keep your voice down?!” he whispered quickly standing up and taking her arm in his hand gently.

“Don’t fucking touch me!-”

“Or what?! You’ll scream? Ro’s gonna come rushing back in here to check on me to find what? Us fucking fighting about her and as far as she knows you dropped out of school,” Vincent breathed, “No one..and I mean no one..knows about any of that.-”

“WHy are you still trying to defend her?!” she growled as she fights him.

“Same reason I defend you, but not the same because you’re not about to marry some meathead to forget your slutty phase,” he mentioned and the girl released her grip, “Also again with the dick jealousy and arousal over your friend and you screwing me.”

“Stop saying that! It’s not fucking true!” she snapped at him.

“I’ve been talking to college girls for a long time. This is the most bisexual thing two straight girls can do is fuck the same guy and give the guy shit for getting off on the fact that at least one of you wants to fuck their lunchbox friend...and right now, you’re the mad at the Snowflake Queen, Needy.”

Leda stopped and looked at him, “Did you really just use that reference?”

“It’s true. No matter the reference. I’ve told you that before-”

“You didn’t-”

“Yes I did, you just forgot because we were having fun...you know..dating,” Vincent lit his cig, handing it to her, “My whole thing is I wanted you to have fun without living in Rosie’s shadow.”

“Don’t do that,” she said, smoking quickly going back to the bed before he takes her hand and twirls her and dips her.

“What?” he said.

“Don’t call her Rosie,” she said, blushing hard.

“Why? Cus you’d call her Rosie?” he asked, shotgunning a hit with her.

“Stop saying I wanna fuck Ro, cus I don’t,” she giggled.

“You’d watch me fuck her though,” he inserted, putting the butt in the ashtray as he pulled her in, “Or vice versa.”

“She said she would?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Needy, when I say she’s never been worried about you when she’s with me, she’s not. I don’t push her, either. Like I think about you if she says or does something that reminds me of you but other than that she’s in her own little world with me,” Vincent said, caressing the girl, looking away to think.

“Stop calling me Needy, I clearly look like Megan Fox,” she said, meaning to put herself down.

“No, you’re Needy at the end of the movie after she’s been affected by Jennifer,” he explained, “You were simping and running and screaming while getting teased the whole movie then at the end, even though you kinda lost your guy, you’ll get more..and it’s kinda because she took what was meant for you..even if it killed her..”

“Wow..Vincent..did you just say you loved me even if it kills Ro?” Leda asked, smirking wildly.

“Yeah I guess so.”

#vincent cyr #leda muir #au #ro

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junietc · 4 years

Text

car rides with you - peter parker

peter parker x reader

pairing: peter parker/spiderman x reader

word count: 6567

warning: swearing, some asshole who doesn’t know how to respect women, and fluffffff

a/n: i’ve had this in my drafts for way too long so i decided to finish it before i forgot it ever existed. its really long but i hope you’ll enjoy a one shot with our favourite little peter benjamin parker :)

send in requests and share your love ~

If you were being honest, it wasn’t like you needed Peter to drive you to and from school each day. You had options. You could take the bus or ask your dad to pick you up or even walk. But having a personal chauffeur didn’t hurt, and if he was so nice as to offer it, then how could you say no?

Plus, it was on his way. Sort of. It was only a detour of about a block; maybe less a detour and more an alternate route? Either way, his apartment complex was hardly two minutes away. Five minutes to walk, three with your bike, six if you hobble over with a tweaked ankle.

This was a route you’ve been intimately familiar with since you became best friends in the seventh grade. Back when your hair was barely past your ears after a platinum blonde mishap (you still immediately dyed it green after lobbing off half of it) and Peter was wearing the same hideous Star Wars sweater every day. Somehow, both of you believed these fashion choices would help improve your social status.

Both of you were delusional.

Luckily, by ages sixteen (you) and seventeen (Peter, by default), you’d come to your senses. Sure, Peter’s penchant for sweaters persisted – why would any one person need five of what was basically the same sweater? – but you grew your hair back out and kept its inoffensive natural colour. And neither of you wore shirts with puns on them. Not anymore.

Earlier this year, back when you were still sophomores, Peter passed his driver’s test. Now with a full license and his aunt’s old sedan, he’s taken the habit of waking up the whole neighbourhood with his obnoxious honking.

Okay, maybe not the entire neighbourhood. Really, just you.

Still, today was no different.

“Hey, Peter,” you yelled out as you swung the door open, “How about shutting the fuck up?”

You shoved your feet into your shoes and scrambled out, backpack dangling off the crook of your elbow and burnt toast between your teeth as you try to shut the door. Peter leaned across to push open the passenger door so that you could throw your things into the backseat. Papers flew out of the half-zipped bag and spilled onto the floor.

“For the expletives, I’m afraid I’ll have to only give you a three-star passenger rating,” Peter quipped.

You frowned deeply, pulling the seatbelt. The mechanism got stuck, and you had to pull it out a few more times again. Peter just grinned at you, clearly taking joy in your glares.

“So, ready for the chem test?” he asked, shifting the gears.

You rolled your eyes, knowing very well that you had sent him a distressed voice message at four in the morning of you crying, saying how you were going to fail, but decided to respond as nicely as possible. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. He pulled up to the intersection, slowing down but not stopping at the sign.

You mock gasped. “Wow, illegal. Imagine if there were cops. I’m going to have to give you two stars. I can’t have my Uber driver potentially getting arrested.”

He sighed, shoving you with his free hand. You almost scolded him for not keeping both hands on the wheel (one star!), but he began talking before you could. “You should know, that if I ever was sent to jail, it would never be for something as lame as not stopping at a stop sign”

You snorted before rolling your eyes. “Oh? What would it be for then? Pirating video games?”

“Exactly.” He winked exaggeratedly; you shoved his face to focus back on the road. You looked down at the charred toast, which had been sprinkling crumbs all over your lap. It was far from appetizing, but your stomach growled, and you decided to scarf it down – it was that or no breakfast at all.

Peter laughed at the wince you tried to stomach what was basically a brick of carbon. (Honestly, he laughed at your expense a lot. Some friend.) “I really don’t know why you haven’t just started waking up earlier. I mean, I pick you up at the same time every day and-”

“Okay dad. I’ll start waking up earlier,” you lied.

“I hope you know that I know, you’re lying.”

You flipped him off.

-----

Lunch seemed to be the only time that you and MJ ever got to hang out at school, so you took pride in making the most of your conversations.

The two of you shared a laugh and through your peripheral vision, you saw Ned and Peter waving at you before coming to sit down. “So, what are we talking about?” Ned asked as you turned to face them with a smile.

“Where MJ is going to hide my body after she kills me,” you notice her crack a smile as Ned and Peter both give you strange looks. “I was thinking maybe throw me in a river, but she thinks that burying me twenty feet underground would make it harder for the cops to find.”

The two boys looked at you apprehensively as MJ chuckled as you grinned cheerfully. “Should I be concerned?” Peter asked before you all laughed.

“Anyways. I was thinking of finally taking my driver’s test. I decided might as well get it over with no?” MJ and Ned both nodded at your suggestion, MJ even mumbling something among the lines of “finally”. Peter on the hand looked, well, skeptical.

“You want to take it now? Out of the blue? Why? I thought you wanted to wait until you had a job,” he questioned.

After taking another sip of the juice box you managed to steal from Ned, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I might as well get it over with. I mean, it’s been well over six months since my written test and I’ve been practicing enough with you and my dad, so I should be fine.”

Peter nodded, though a slight frown still prominent on his face. The conversation steered over to a completely different topic when Ned brought up the chemistry test causing you to pretend to bawl and everyone to laugh.

After lunch had ended, you said your goodbyes to Ned and MJ as you and Peter stopped at your locker. You were in the midst of grabbing your book when he sighed heavily, causing you to stare at him. “You know if you really wanted me to stop driving you, you could have just said so,” his voice was offended as you scoffed.

“What? Where would you get that idea from idiot?”

Huffing slightly, he shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe when you said you wanted to finally get your license.”

“Are you serious? I’ve been meaning to get my license for the past few months you dummy. Plus, I can’t count on you to drive me everywhere. You’re busy with your own life, you know with that Stark internship and everything. Not to mention, you’re still going to have to drive me to school, since I don’t even have a car,” you roll your eyes at the boy.

A light smile started to tug on his lips. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to get rid of me,” he joked as you snorted in response.

“Oh trust me, I’ve been trying since the day I met you,” Peter pouts as you flicked him in the forehead. “Stop with that face. You know I suck up to how cute each time,” his cheeks tinged a pinkish hue as you ruffled his hair and laughed.

“O-Oh. Yeah, haha. Sorry,” he murmured as you started to walk in the opposite direction. He caught up with you before heading over to English – which truly was your worst subject – and sitting next to each other.

Peter fiddled with his pencil for the most of class while you aggressively took notes, wishing that Mr. Petersons would slow down and breathe.

“Alright class. That’s it for today but if everyone could just pick their partners for the project and try and get started over the weekend, that would be great,” as he dismissed everyone, you and Peter turned to each other, giving a silent acknowledgement that you were each other’s partner.

Heading out of the classroom, you and Peter both went your separate ways. “See you after school!” you waved before heading to History.

History was blur of numbers, years and dead people that you were going to have to remember for an upcoming test, so you were thankful that the clock had finally read 3:00. Your teacher finally dismissed you, causin you to rush to the parking lot, seeing Peter already sitting in the front seat. “Hey there Parker,” you knocked on the window as he smiled and unlocked the door.

“Hey, how was history?” rolling your eyes, you told him about the dumb test you were going to have to study for. He laughed as he buckled his seatbelt, “well at least you have the weekend to study for it. Speaking of which. When do you want to meet to work on the English project?”

Sighing slightly at the reminder that you had other things you also had to work on, you bit your lip. “Are you cool with Saturday? I’ll just walk over, maybe at like three or four,” Peter nodded as he started the car.

“Sounds good to me.”

------

Swinging around Queens was always a nice break for Peter, seeing all of the buildings and feeling almost weightless was a nice distraction from all of his studies and duties but he always seemed to forget the time when he was doing so.

Cue Peter – well Spiderman I guess – hurriedly swinging back to his apartment when he received a text from you saying you were at his door. “Shit, shit, shit!” he swore, finally reaching his window and climbing in.

As he changed to some regular clothing, May’s voice echoed throughout the little apartment, talking to you as footsteps approached. “He’s been in his room for quite a while. I’m not sure what he’s been up to,” Peter was frantically trying to search for a shirt in his mess of a room when the footsteps got closer. “I have some muffins I baked earlier on the counter, feel free to have one if you get hungry. I’ll be off for a bit so just call if you –” May’s voice seems to be getting closer when she suddenly opened the door, revealing you staring at him, neck immediately snapping to turn the other direction. Peter tried covering himself with a pillow as May immediately said she had to go and left you both alone, very uncomfortable.

You stood there, unsure of what to do and more so, where to look. Though obviously you looked away and allowed Peter to have his privacy finding a shirt, you couldn’t help but think of his shirtless figure. Since when did he start working out? ‘When did he get those abs? Is this the same Peter that literally dropped me during a drama performance last year?’ you thought to yourself, cheeks tinging pink as Peter finally put on a shirt.

“Hey, um – sorry about that. I was just –”

“Nope! It’s alright. We can just forget this ever happened,” you rushed to say, shaking your head.

Peter blushed before nodding. “Right. Let’s just erase the last two minutes from our brain.”

You swung your legs as you sat on his bed. “You weren’t doing anything weird right? Because I know that guys - “

“That’s not what I was doing! I was just changing,” he shook his head as you laughed. “Asides from that. Do you want to start working on the project?” You nodded as the two of you got to work.

– a few hours later –

You were both hard at work, basically finished the first two parts of the project, leaving only the last section left when you flopped onto Peter’s bed dramatically. “I’m so exhausted,” you whined, as Peter chuckled.

“We only have one more part to do and we’re practically done the project, so do you want to finish it now?” Peter asked, still typing in his laptop.

You pursed your lips, pondering on the idea of that but shook your head ultimately. “Nah. I’m tired. Plus, we’ve been working our asses off the past three hours. I just need to breathe.”

Peter laughed at your dramatics before he asking question. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

Obviously agreeing to a break in any form, you nodded eagerly and headed over to the living room. You managed to steal a blanket from his bed and bundled yourself up as Peter turned on the television. “So, what are we watching?” he asked, flipped through the collection of old DVD’s.

“Can we watch Star Wars?” he pleaded as you rolled your eyes, this was probably the third time this month he wanted to watch Star Wars, but you agreed to it anyways.

“Fine, just don’t be annoying about it again.”

------

The weekend seemed to breeze by with you desperately trying to study for the history test, and with only a few mental breakdowns and a couple thousand replays of your favourite song, you were ready.

Obviously, you severely underestimated how cruel Ms. Gail could have possibly been and left the classroom wanting to punch yourself, or her, in the face.

Luckily you didn’t have to endure another class seeing as the day was over and you could get home to your bed to cry in private. But before that of course, you were forced to see Peter’s face.

A light smile was etched on his face as you settled in the car. “So how was the –”

“Don’t bring it up. I am already debating whether or not I should throw myself off a building,” you groaned, leaning your head back on the seat. Peter laughed before trying to reassure you that it really couldn’t have been that bad, but you responded with, “no it really was. I honestly think I only got one or two answers right.”

Trying to raise your spirits, an idea popped in his head. “Do you want to get sandwiches at Mr. Delmar’s? Maybe that’ll lighten up your mood,” he suggested as a bright grin formed on your face. As devastated as you were, you were sure that a full stomach would make everything better. “Alright let’s go.”

Obviously, parking was a nightmare in central Queens, so, you decided it would be easier to walk there instead. The two of you headed to the small corner shop, making light conversation. After opening the door to the store, the two greeted Mr. Delmar, Peter snatching a packet of gummies worms and you going directly to pet Murph, Mr. Delmar’s cat.

“Hey Murph! How’s my cutie doing?” he purred in response before you walked over to the cash with Peter. “Hey Mr. Delmar! Business running smoothly?”

He smiled at you before answering. “Of course. I’ve got my two most frequent costumers keeping me in business,” you and Peter laughed before ordering your sandwiches, paying and heading off.

You walked back to the school and got back in Peter’s car, eating your sandwiches in the school parking lot. The two of you conversed, making up dumb scenarios and silly topics for a while. Peter nearly choked of laughter as you tried to defend Tik-Tok.

“Not all of Tik-Tok is thirst traps okay! Maybe yeah there’s a weird subsection of it, but it really depends on the algorithm! Most of the users are sane – ish,” you argued as Peter shook his head.

“I really don’t get it. And somehow you stay up until morning watching them! Didn’t you do that when Vine was still around?” he took a pause, a dramatic gasp escaping from his lips. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying are you?”

You placed on a hand on your chest in slight offence. “No! What? Listen, I’m not saying that Tik-Tok is better than Vine, don’t get me wrong but –”

“But what? Tell me?” he raised a brow at you, suspicious as to which team your truly were on.

You shook your head laughing before punching him on the side of his arm. “You’re such a piss off Parker. Hey, should we get going? It’s getting late,” Peter looked at the time on his phone before nodding, taking a final bite of his sandwich before starting the car.

“Oh, shoot you’re right,” you smugly flipped your hair, as he rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t I always?”

----

“You said yes?” Peter demanded, trying to keep up with you as you walked to your locker.

Sighing as you rummage through your locker you answer, “Yeah I said yes. Noah is a good guy and quite frankly, I don’t see why it would even matter to you?”

“You said that you would think about it!”

Turning to face him as you shut your locker closed, you rolled your eyes. “That was nearly a week ago and I’ve thought about it since then. Besides, it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. It’s just one date.”

“You see that’s where it starts!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s just a first date but then it’s a second and a third and soon he’s your boyfriend and he’s the one driving you to school and everywhere and then, where am I?”

You shook your head laughing slightly at the brunette. “Would you calm down Peter? You’re getting way too ahead of yourself for the first part. And yeah, maybe it’ll be more than one date but trust me you can keep driving me to school. Also we’ve been best friends since middle school, I wouldn’t just ditch you when I got boyfriend,” he seemed to calm down, nodding slowly at the words you were saying but he knew it was more than just being allowed to drive you to school. “I’ll see you around okay?” you smiled before heading off to meet up with Noah, who was standing with a group of his friends.

Peter’s smile faded away shortly as he watched Noah wrap his arm around your shoulder. He was too busy thinking of different scenarios to notice Ned had come up beside him or the fact that you had slapped Noah’s arm away. “Hey Peter. What are you looking – oh. Sorry man,” Ned tried to console Peter, but the words seemed to pass his mind. Sighing, Ned tried to pat his shoulder. “I mean, it is kind of your fault.”

“Excuse me?” the words seemed to catch his attention as he turned around to face his best friend.

Ned shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hey not trying to be rude but maybe if you hadn’t chickened out into asking her out, you could’ve been the one dating her,” Peter stared at his friend, slightly hurt but also aware that everything he was saying was right.

“Yeah, maybe if I had.”

He couldn’t help but look at you wistfully, his heart almost aching at the idea of you going out with anyone else but him but at this point, what could he really do?

Waving bye to Ned, Peter headed off into his car and drove home since you were already going with Noah on your date. Once he got into his apartment, he saw May and smiled. “Hey Pete, how was your day?” tucking his hands in his sweater pocket he sighed slightly.

“It was okay, I guess. Erm – I’m gonna work on my assignment in the library. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, heading off to his room to grab a few things.

May shouted from in the kitchen, “alright! I’ll be heading off to grab a few things. Just be back before dinner!” he grabbed his suit and tried to get some fresh air to distract himself.

----

A month had passed, and you and Noah were happily dating, much to the dismay of Peter, who constantly tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart every time you two would display physical affection, but it was whatever.

You got in his car and buckled your seat belt without a word to Peter. You were tired of schoolwork as you always were, so you weren’t as talkative as you usually were. Slumping into the chair and sighing heavily Peter stared at you.

“Everything okay?”

You looked at him surprised, nodding. “Of course! I’m just really exhausted. Got a lot of work, that’s all.” You sighed, looking at the text on your phone. “Hey, we should get going. May’s probably wondering where you are, and I have a date with Noah so I can’t be late.”

The moment that Noah’s name was mentioned, Peter mentally rolled his eyes but nodded and started to drive again.

He dropped you off at your place before texting his aunt May that he would be heading over to the library to work. He drove over and got to the library, trying to find a place to sit.

After finding a seat, he pulled out his laptop and worked for a while, maybe a few hours or so before heading back home. May still wasn’t back and Peter really needed some air, so he put on the suit before leaving through his window and swinging around. It was a nice distraction as he watched the sun slowly start to set, dealing with a few petty crimes around the neighbourhood. He was about to call it a day when he heard a shout coming from someone.

“Hey! Get off me!” the voice sounded awfully familiar and as soon as he realized who it was, Peter’s stomach dropped. “I said get off!” you were shouting from about a block away, trying to keep a man away from you.

“Oh, come on, you look all nice and dolled up. Why won’t you just –” the man started before you started to attack him with your bag. Sure, you weren’t scared of him, but you were really hoping he would catch a clue and leave you alone for the rest of the night. You were tired and your feet hurt, and the sun was setting so you really didn’t want to be walking alone back to your place in the dark. You’d forgotten your phone like a dumbass in your room, so there really weren’t that many options. “You bitch! I can understand why you’re walking all alone! I wouldn’t want to be near such a whore either!” the words sank into your skin as you made a disgusted face at the man.

“Listen if you could please just leave me alone it would be –” as you placed your hands up trying to be defensive, the man grabbed onto your wrists and started to pull on you. “Stop! What are you –?”

“She said stop.”

Your head whipped around, and you saw Spiderman hanging from a web. You watched the man smirk and laugh for a minute, his hands still holding onto your wrists. “And what are you gonna do? From what I’ve heard about you Spiderman is that you’re just a kid. Don’t think that I’d fear a –”

Before he could finish his sentence, Spiderman had knocked him cold with a single blow to the face. He turned to you and tried to make sure you were alright. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting him to get knocked out. Are you alright miss?” you nodded, trying to massage your wrists, damn that guy had a firm grip. You glared at his lying figure, still holding onto your wrists. Spiderman’s eyes, or well, you couldn’t really see his eyes through his mask but whatever, moved to your wrists. “Are you sure? Here, let me see.”

He took your wrists gently, examining the potential bruises and making sure you were okay. You smiled before taking back your wrists. “I’m alright, honestly. Thank you for your help, even though I didn’t really need it,” you stated, causing him to scoff.

“Um what? From what I saw, he was holding you and you couldn’t move,” he crossed his arms making you snort.

“That’s because I was trying to reason with him before kicking him in the balls,” you mentioned, causing Spiderman to choke in response. “Kind of stupid that guy. I mean my legs weren’t restrained. But whatever. Thank you though. I do actually appreciate it,” you smiled and was about to walk off before he kept talking.

“Why are you walking alone? I mean it’s getting late, no? Why not call someone to drive you home?” he asked making you stop and turn around.

You placed your hand on your hip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice to get some fresh air so I just decided to walk. But I’m starting to think I should just take the bus for the rest of the way back.”

“I could swing you back?” Spiderman’s offer was a surprising one, considering how this was your first time encountering the hero. Though it was a bit skeptical, you agreed to it, wanting to go home. “Just hold on tight alright?” he asked as you nodded, latching yourself to him, arms wrapped around his neck. You heard his breath hitch slightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist but ignored it as he shot a web up and started to swing.

You screamed loudly, the adrenaline of being so high up and swing fast soon kicking in. “Do you even know where we’re going?” you shouted, the wind smacking you in the face. You rolled your eyes before giving your address to him and soon landing safely at your windowsill. Thankfully, your widow was still unlocked so you lifted it up and slid in. Before he left you tapped his shoulder. “Thanks Spiderman.”

“Not a problem. Just being your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.”

He left soon, leaving you in your room, bored. You walked over to your desk and saw your phone there, a bunch of texts from MJ asking you how your date went so you went and responded. After binging a bit on Netflix, you decided to get ready for bed, knowing Peter was going to come honking at the door the next morning.

----

“Wow, you’re early for once,” Peter joked as you sat in his car. You rolled your eyes at him, before turning on the radio. “How was your, umm, date yesterday?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable.

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to why he had suddenly taken interest into your date with Noah. “It was the same as usual I guess,” you shrug. “Why?”

“You walked home last night?” he huffed, causing you to readjust your position. You awkwardly nodded, because you knew he was going to go into his “you shouldn’t be walking home alone late at night” speech.

“Yeah,” you admitted, as he stopped at the red light. “How did you know –”

He kept his eyes on the road before speaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you pursed your lips, shrugging once more. “I went to bed pretty early for once. I just forgot about it, I guess. Sorry,” you tried to apologize yet Peter’s face stayed stern.

“Why didn’t Noah drop you off?”

You were shocked at his tone but answered him, trying to keep your own temper. “He said he had to go somewhere once we were done the movie. He apologized for your information. He’s got more in his life then just me.”

“No one goes on a date with someone and just leaves because they were ‘busy’,” he argued. You rolled your eyes at his behaviour.

“Would you cut it out? It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” you snapped, crossing your arms and turning to look outside of the window.

Peter turned to you and glared. “Not that big of a deal? I heard some guy tried to attack you,” he retorted, causing you to turn back and face him, confused as to how he knew.

“Who told you?”

“That doesn’t matter!” his tone was harsher, making you wince at the volume. He took a breath and regained his composure. “I just can’t believe Noah let you go home alone. Why didn’t you take the bus?”

You were getting tired of his protective behavior, sighing. “Oh my god Peter. I’m not a helpless child, I can walk home on my own! For your information I didn’t have my bus pass. Besides it was hardly dark!” your attempts to reason with him fell on deaf ears.

“There were so many other things you could have done though!”

“Like what?”

“You could have called me!”

“You were busy! You have a life that’s not taking care of me twenty-four seven! I don’t want to have to rely on you for every fucking moment of my life!” you retaliated, breathing heavily. “Besides, I didn’t even have my phone.”

“You could have –”

“Could have what Parker?” you were sick of him treating you as if you were incapable of doing anything. “I get that you’re just trying to look after me, but I can handle things on my own!”

“Can you? Because it seems like the one time you are on your own you get yourself in situations like yesterdays!”

“You think that it was my fault? You think that some guy trying to assault me is my fault? Are you fucking serious right now? You know what, I’ll just get Noah to drive me home tonight seeing as you clearly don’t trust me walk home on my own, because I don’t want you to drive me anymore. Don’t wait for me after school,” and with those words, the car had come to a stop and you slammed his car door, leaving Peter to slap himself across the forehead at his stupid mistake. Groaning to himself, he placed his head on the steering wheel.

“What the fuck did I just do?”

------

It had been two weeks since you and Peter’s argument and neither of you had spoken to each other since. There had been awkward moments where you two would cross paths, like if you were hanging out with MJ and Ned, but you made it seems as if it were your sworn duty to ignore the boy. You sat with Noah and his friends at lunch and either walked home or had your dad pick you up.

That was all until one fateful night.

It was maybe eleven, possibly even midnight, and Peter had just gotten back from patrol. It was boring that night. Nothing happened, maybe a guy flashing people down the street but asides from that, the city was calm.

He had climbed back into his room and sat down on his bed, laying up at the ceiling. He hadn’t done much the past few weeks since he didn’t have you to bother him with, so his life was boring. He laid there for a few more minutes before his phone buzzed.

He was quick to get up and grab his phone, wow addicted much, and his eyes squinted when reading the name, making sure they weren’t deceiving him.

you: hey

you: do you think you could come over?

Peter: ofc! On my way right now

you: thanks :)

The ride to your house was short and before he knew it, you were sitting beside him, awkwardly staring forewords. “Can we drive? Anywhere is fine,” you mumbled under your breath, latching on your seatbelt.

Peter nodded and started to drive off. He glanced to look at you a couple times, watching as you anxiously played with the sleeves of your sweater. Maybe ten minutes had passed, and you motioned for Peter to park the car on the side of a quiet street.

“Me and Noah broke up.”

Peter looked at her surprised. “Oh. Do you want to talk about – “

“Do you still have those movies you downloaded on your phone?” you asked quickly, avoiding his previous question. He nodded as you smiled. “Can we watch one of them in the back? I really just don’t want to think about anything.”

Peter smiled at the girl. “Anything for you.”

So, the two of you sat in the backseats of Peter’s old sedan, wrapped up in an old blanket and watching trashy romcoms together.

And it was perfect.

-----

The two of you had finally made amends after the incident and nearly a month had passed until the two of you were working on a project in Peter’s apartment.

While Peter was vigour sly typing up the document, you laid on his bed, playing with various Knick knacks he had scattered around his room.

“Peter?” He hummed his response before you continued. “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about me?”

“Sorry?” He paused his writing, confused at why you had suddenly decided to go into such a deep question.

You sat up for a second, repeating the same question. “What do you think of when you think of me?” you collapsed back down onto your back and laid your head on your arms. “Go on. Answer it?”

He took a second to think about it before answering: “Annoying.”

“You think I’m annoying?” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at his childish answer.

“Undoubtedly. Every day I wonder how far I can shoot you into space,” he joked as you threw one of his pillows at his head. He caught it with ease, turning on his chair to face you. “Why are you asking? Did someone say something?” he asked defensively.

You shook your head, playing with some strands of hair, braiding them carelessly. “No. I was just kind of sitting in my room earlier today and stumbled over a Tik Tok where a girl asked people what they thought of when they thought of her, so I just wondered about it. I asked MJ and she said that I reminded her of comfort and that one time we plotted to kill Ms. Gail,” Peter looked at you with a cocked brow as you shrugged. “I mean, at least her answer wasn’t as rude as yours.”

“Oh, come on. It was just a joke,” he tried to reason with you as you laughed. He left his desk and sat at the bottom of his bed beside you, taking a second to think about it. “I guess the first thing I think about, when I think about you, is cars.”

“Like the Pixar movie?”

Smacking you with the pillow he was holding, he rolled his eyes, “and you wonder why I said annoying?”

“You love me,” you stated, as Peter sighed.

“No, but like cars. More so car rides,” he stopped himself, thinking of all the memories you have made in the car rides you had been on. “Like, I guess car rides with you are what I think of. Like how I pick you up and drop you every day. And all the stupid conversations we have, or watching you trying to put yourself together in the mornings when I pick you up. I think about the arguments we have gotten into, the tears that we shed, the terrible jokes you made, the movies we watched in the back of the car on your phone late at night,” a smile tugged at his lips as he thought: ‘It’s where I fell in love with you.’ He leaned his head back on the mattress of the bed. “I guess it’s just, our special thing.”

You smiled to yourself at his answer, as you laid on your back staring at the ceiling. “That was a solid answer Parker,” you teased him. You slid down the bed, so that half of you was lying upside down and turned to face him.

“Yeah well my real answer is just annoying,” he laughed before turning to face you. You both hadn’t realized how close you were to each other’s faces. Your nose was almost touching his as you stared into his soft brown eyes.

Neither of you moved.

Just the sound of silence and your heartbeat going haywire.

“Do you want to know what comes to my mind when I think of you?” you asked smiling. “I think of how many times you’ve been there for me, showing up at midnight with your old sedan and your hair a mess. I think of how you always seem to be there no matter how pissed off I am at you or the world. I think of your cute face and how you always manage to make me smile. I think of how much I really love you Peter Parker. How your dorky face manages to be my entire world.”

Peter’s mind seemed to unravel as the words left your mouth. “You, love me?”

A light scoff seemed to escape your lips before you responded. “I do. Have been since sophomore year, but if you don’t feel the same, don’t feel obligated to answer. I know it’s really-“

His lips sealed over yours before another word could have been spoken. His hair tickled your eyes as you two got closer together, his hand placed on the back of your neck. The two of you parted, your eyes staring longingly into his. The two of you shared a pair of love sick smiles.

“I guess that means you love me too?”

“You have no idea.”

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