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hyunfilms · 10 months ago

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blue side of the sky (lmh) | twenty.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.5k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, time jump!, surprise bday celebration for jisung, alcohol consumption/intoxication, just good times and good vibes honestly, san & minho have a moment, mentions of a death anniversary, flashback scene towards the end

▹ A YEAR AND A HALF LATER ..

"Hey." You pick up the phone as Chan continues to drive off to the store. "Yeah, I'm getting them with Chan right now— you have the cake ready, right?— Minho, what do you mean you don't know if it's ready?"

"What?" Chan mouths out while letting out a small chuckle in the driver's seat. You give him a look before shrugging.

"I mean, as long as it looks good and it's edible? Ji will love it either way— we don't really have time to remake it— mm, okay—yeah, I'll try— mmkay." Chan continues to eavesdrop on the conversation until you finally end the call and let out a sigh.

"What happened this time?"

"Minho is being too much of a perfectionist over his cake. It's done but he doesn't like the way it turned out. He's contemplating on re-doing the whole thing."

"Uh." Chan looks at the clock on the dashboard. "He definitely needs to do that now or else he won't make it in time for the surprise."

"I told him I'm sure it'll be fine, but he won't let it go." You shake his head. "I guess if he really wants to make it work, he will."

"What's new? I'm not even surprised he's doing this." Chan laughs as he pulls into the store's lot. Today was Jisung's birthday, and you and your friends decided to throw him a surprise party at a nearby restaurant and bar. Many people were invited, including his parents, Yuna and Yeong-Su, close coworkers, JJ, San and their friends. All in all, it was supposed to be a big gathering to celebrate your bestfriend's birthday.

Tonight, it was all about good people, good vibes and a good times.

Seungmin had lied and told Jisung he needed his help with an urgent project at work— dragging him to the office even though Ji protested and whined about it being his birthday. Though, in true Jisung form, when a friend calls for help, he goes. So, Seungmin is currently keeping him at the office until everyone arrives and everything is set up. What project Seungmin ended up getting Jisung wrapped into, you weren't sure.

As long as it worked.

Right now, you and Chan were headed to the store to pick up the balloons and decorations, while Minho was at the café working on perfecting Jisung's cake. You've already come to know how much of a perfectionist Minho is, especially with his craft. You've seen the little tantrums he's pulled and the things he does when he isn't satisfied with his work. You aren't entirely surprised he's scraping the whole thing right before the party— you are more worried about whether he'll make it in time or not.

"I guess if all else fails, we can just have Seungmin keep him at the office until it's ready?"

"Yeah. But, he's gonna get suspicious."

"He'll be alright." You laugh a bit. Once you and Chan arrive at the shop, you gather the balloons that you've ordered at the front— Chan carefully holding the large order of balloons, while you help the staff member who is assisting you with carrying the stands you custom-ordered to go with Jisung's birthday backdrop. Loading the balloons into your uncle's old van was a challenge, but you shared a few laughs with Chan when the both of you tried adjusting the balloons in a certain position— popping a few in the middle of doing so.

"I mean, it honestly doesn't even look like we lost a few." Chan steps back to look at the balloons and you nod.

"You're right. It'll be fine." You shrug it off. "The backdrop will be the center of attention anyway." You hop into the car, Chan wasting no time to make his way over to the restaurant.

"When did you make those?"

"The backdrop and cut outs?" You look at him. "A few days ago. With my uncle's help."

"They're really nice."

"Want me to make some for your birthday?"

"Please?" You laugh and nod.

"Okay, Channie."

"Your uncle's van is bringing back memories. I didn't realize he still had it."

"Oh yeah, he refuses to sell it. Says it's still in really good shape and he could keep it around in case of emergency."

"Good times." Chan quickly looks over at you before shifting his attention back to the road. "Remember when Jisung told you about the times you went home for the weekend, and we used to come down and bother you?" You chuckle.

"Yes."

"We'd do it to see you, don't get us wrong. But we knew your uncle would take us to get ice cream at the shop and cook for us. His cooking is amazing. Can't ever turn that down for the school's food." He does a slight head tilt as he pulls into the restaurant's lot. "Wish we could go back to the good ol' days, you know? Simple times."

"You're telling me."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How have you been feeling lately? If you don't wanna answer, that's totally fine too. You can tell me to fuck off and I won't feel offended." You chuckle.

"Good. Really good." Chan smiles as he turns down the street, the restaurant coming into view in the distance.

"Yeah? I'm glad."

"Mhm. I just feel.. happier."

"As you should." He clears his throat. "Can I ask you something else? You can really tell me to fuck off with this one if you need to." You laugh and shake your head.

"Try me."

"How do you feel about Minho after all this time has passed?"

"Hm." You hum. "I feel.. relaxed." You look at Chan. "It doesn't feel like something is weighing down on my shoulders anymore, especially since I've gotten my chance to take everything in and slowly make peace with it."

"That's good. I'm glad."

"Mmyeah. But, you know, I think we're perfect the way we are." You shrug. "I don't wanna rush or ruin anything. We just feel better letting things be as they should be. He feels like my bestfriend again.

"I get that. I'm happy you feel that way, Y/N."

"I am too." You say. He turns into the lot of the restaurant, pulling up to the entrance before putting on the hazard lights.

"Alright, well. Let me run in and let them know we're just gonna unload everything real quick." You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt when Chan runs inside the restaurant to give them a heads up.

You begin to unload most of the decorations and balloons, leaving heavier items for Chan to haul upstairs to the room you and your friends reserved. The room could sit a good amount of people if necessary, a huge tv screwed onto the back wall for all your karaoke needs. Though tonight was going to be a good group, it still gave you enough room to decorate off to the side. Once everything had been moved from the van to the room, you begin to rearrange things; having Chan help move the tables and backdrop to your liking while setting up the balloons alongside of him. By the time you finish, Yuna and Yeong-Su come strolling in, setting their things on one of the tables.

"I'm here! What can I help with?" Yuna smiles, making you squeal as you hug her and Yeong-Su tightly.

"Might need help adding these in between the balloons." You hand her some decorations and she happily takes it. "Thank you."

"Anything for you! This looks amazing already, Jisung is so lucky to have you guys. For real." You and Chan laugh and nod in agreement.

Sooner or later, more people begin to trickle in— starting with Jisung's parents, some of Jisung's close coworkers, San and JJ's friends, then Minho and JJ. Uncle Adrian shoots you a text to let you know that he'll stop by a bit after he finishes up with work, while Seungmin asks if everyone is ready.

"I think Seungmin is texting our separate group chat." Minho says, making sure the cake is sitting perfectly in the middle of the dessert table.

"I got it." You pull out your phone.

seungmin: everyone there? i'm running out of things to stall him with 😞 plus, he's working my last nerve

you: haha yes, everyone's here. you can come now!

seungmin: sweet. 15 mins tops.

So, all of you continue to hang out and chat around until Seungmin finally texts that he's just parked and about to head upstairs with Jisung. The room gets incredibly quiet, everyone afraid to take a breath as you all wait for Jisung to step through the room. You fiddle with your fingers when you hear footsteps getting a louder right outside in the hallway— Jisung immediately sliding the door open, eyes wide while he screams in fear.

"Surprise! Happy birthday!" Everyone yells loudly in their own way.

"What the fuck!" He screams, almost tripping and twisting his ankle when he steps back. "Ouch, fuck!" He continues to freak out, his eyes bulging out of its sockets. You laugh when you realize Ji is trying to make sense of what's happening, his expression mixed with utter confusion. "What is this?"

"Your birthday celebration, what do you mean?" You come to him and give him a hug, gently rubbing his back before pushing him forward into the room.

"All for me?" He questions even though he's already greeting his family and friends around the room.

"Yes!" You laugh while he points at the backdrop and balloons.

"Mine too?" You nod before Jisung points to the cake and looks at Minho. "You made that for me?"

"Yeah. Let me know which card I can charge it to." You playfully hit Minho on the chest and he laughs. "I'm kidding! Yes, I made that for you. I put my soul into that, so I hope you like it." Jisung smiles.

"He actually.. re-did the cake because he didn't like how the first one turned out this morning." You say. Jisung pulls the both of you in a tight hug.

"You guys are the best." He pulls back before reaching over for Seungmin and Chan again.

"You're welcome, pachi."

"Let's eat!" Chan rubs his tummy. "I'm hungry. Plus, we have a whole night of karaoke ahead of us."

"Sick! You're right." Jisung plops on a chair next to his family members. "I could eat."

The staff members are off to the side, ready to take orders from the separate tables. Once everyone settles, they start going around to begin with drink orders— many ordering bottles of soju and beer to get to a good level tonight. You sit in between Chan and Minho, going through the menu as you voice out what you want to Chan. He takes charge of ordering on behalf of the table, making sure every bit of Jisung's wishes are included. As soon as the alcohol and appetizers come out, everyone wastes no time getting started and digging in. Mid-way through, Jisung stands from his seat while obnoxiously tapping away at his glass— calling for everyone's attention in the room.

"Hey! One second, please?" He says loudly. "I just wanna say a few things!"

"Boo!" Seungmin teases, making Chan nudge him to be quiet.

"Yeah, whatever." Jisung flips off Seungmin, his mom tugging on the hem of his shirt as a way to silently scold him. "He did it first!" Seungmin laughs. "Anyway, I just wanna say thank you to everyone for coming out tonight to celebrate my birthday with me." He turns to you, Minho, Chan and Seungmin. "And a big thanks to my bestfriends for planning and getting this whole thing together. Really have so much love for you guys. Through thick and thin." He raises his shot glass full of soju up.

"Happy birthday, Ji." Minho is the first to break the silence and raise his glass, everyone else chiming in afterwards with a loud 'cheers!' echoing in the room.

It's not long before everyone is grubbing down, with lots of good food to go around. Uncle Adrian finally arrives, taking his seat next to Yeong-su and Minho. Minho helps serve you some food from time to time, leaning over to ask you if you need anything. Everyone seems to be tipsy while enjoying their food, and you're happy to see that Jisung is in good spirits.

That's all you wanted.

When dinner is over, the staff quickly cleans up while the group takes pictures near the backdrop and Minho cuts the cake into even pieces. You all loudly sing happy birthday to Jisung and cause a racket before Minho offers cake slices— shyly brushing off the compliments he gets even though his ears turn a bright red.

Finally, karaoke kicks off with a loud and cheerful introduction song from Jisung and Chan. Everyone has continued to drink throughout the night [besides the designated drivers], leaving most to be drunk. For the most part, everything is fun. Lively. Entertaining.

Happy.

And it takes you a moment to fully take it in, to take everything in. Uncle Adrian is enjoying himself with Jisung's parents. Your bestfriends are singing along and supporting each other on the mic. It's exactly how you pictured this night to turn out.

All good vibes.

Like there isn't a cloud in sight, like there isn't a sudden storm threatening to take over.

Finally, it all feels genuinely good.

Real.

And the thought is enough to overwhelm you because boy, have you been waiting for this moment; for the universe to give you some kind of confirmation that things will be okay from here on out. You silently excuse yourself and slip out of the room, heading straight for the rooftop patio that the restaurant gives its customers access to enjoy. You slowly breathe in the air and take steps to the railing, letting your hands hang loosely over the edge as you take in the view.

Everything felt so overwhelmingly beautiful tonight, and for some reason, it makes you long for more comfort, more love. It makes you long for your mother because you wish she could be here to see you and your friends, to see how far you've come.

You miss her, and it's the last piece left that could finally close this chapter for good and push you forward into the next part of your life.

"W-where's Y/N?" Minho hiccups, downing the last of his beer.

"I'm not sure, she walked out not too long ago, but I assumed she was going to the bathroom." Seungmin looks at the doorway. "Do you want me to find her?"

"It's good. I'll go look."

"Are you okay to?" Seungmin chuckles at how tipsy Minho is.

"Yeah, I'm good." He gives Seungmin a pursed smile before heading outside, exploring the first floor from the second floor. He doesn't see you in general, main area of the restaurant, and he's not sure why you would be there. He takes another path towards the rooftop patio.

To his relief, that's where he finds you.

You're peacefully standing at the railing, looking at the city view under the night sky. You look so content and peaceful that Minho isn't sure if he even wants to bother you. But, before he can even think twice, he finds himself taking the steps over— already eager to make sure that you're doing okay.

"Hey. You okay?" Minho comes to your side as you hang over the balcony railing with everyone having fun in the room below you.

"Yeah." You look at him with a small smile before returning your attention to the view. You can somewhat hear the muffled sounds of everyone singing loudly together to the karaoke downstairs, surely with cups in hand while they sip in between verses.

"You don't wanna sing?" Minho looks at you with hooded lids, clearly somewhat intoxicated from the alcohol they've downed in the past hours.

"Maybe later. Why don't you sing? You have a voice."

"I'm shy." You chuckle and sip on your soda. "I've been meaning to come out here to enjoy the view."

"Mm, it really is nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. It's perfect tonight, too. Barely any clouds in sight."

"You're not cold?"

"No, I'm alright." You chuckle. "How are you doing there, champ?"

"I'm a few drinks in and pretty tipsy, but we're good."

"Good thing JJ's here, huh?"

"Mhm. Thank god." You let out a small giggle before looking back out at the view. It's quiet for a minute, but it's a comfortable silence. And it feels nice to be this way around Minho again. It took some time for you to get used to things after everything happened, but Minho never pressured you and let you gradually come back on your own terms, at your own comfort. He, of course, continued to keep a good distance. Though, it has been hard for him to. He still gets sudden urges to brush the hair away from your face, to swing his arm around your shoulder, to kiss you on the forehead.

But, he lets it pass. Because after all the fuck-ups he's made, after all the shit he's put you and your friends through, he wants to take this chance to show you better.

To be your bestfriend above anything.

To prioritize you and stop neglecting you, your needs.

To bring back the gold that you hold in your eyes.

"Minho."

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Actually, I think this might be the wrong time to do this." You look at him and smirk. "You're tipsy."

"Kinda, yeah." You snort. "But, try me."

"I wanna see my mom." Minho slowly nods and looks out at the view. "Her death anniversary is coming up, and I wanna see her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I am." You give him a tiny, pursed smile. "I'm ready. Do you think you can bring me to her?"

"Yeah." He responds softly. "We can go. Just let me know if you're sure."

"There's something else."

"Hm?"

"I think—" You let out a shaky breath. "I think I wanna see my childhood home, too."

"Oh." Minho looks at you. "Are you 100% sure about that?"

"It'll help give me closure." He nods. "I guess? I see the pictures but I can't help but continue to wonder what life was really like in that home. I wish I could remember."

"I understand." Minho clears his throat. "Mm, yeah. I can do that for you."

"Really?"

"Mhm." He lets out a small sigh. "Just promise me you'll be okay?"

"I will be. I need to do this and just.. move on."

"Okay." Minho gently nudges you with a small smile. "I know it isn't too cold, and it's super nice to be away from loud, drunk people." You chuckle and shake your head. "But, do you wanna head in? I'm sure Jisung, Chan and Seungmin are looking for you."

"Yeah, we can head in." Minho taps the railing. Before he could fully turn around, you place your hand on his arm— gently forcing him to stop in his tracks. "Wait, Minho."

"What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"It is. But, I just wanna say thank you. For agreeing to take me."

"Y/N, it's not a problem. I'll do anything for you, whatever it is." You wrap your arms around his neck to give him a tight, meaningful hug. You breathe in his scent, taking in every bit of him, when he wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a gentle squeeze.

"I appreciate it a lot." You say softly before pulling away. You give him a tiny smile with a curt nod before heading back towards the karaoke room— Minho trailing behind you with his hands dug deep into his pockets. You take another pause before turning back to him, noticing that Minho's eyes have never left you. "You know, tonight went really well. I think we make a good team." Minho licks at his lips.

"Y-yeah." He nods. "Yeah, we do. We always do." Suddenly, you hear someone else come up to the patio, causing you to shift your attention towards the stairs. San stands there, awkwardly cracking his knuckles as he lets out a small chuckle.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I just wanted to see if you were okay, plus get some air." He points up.

"I'm good. Thanks, Sannie." You give him a tiny, toothless smile. "We were heading back inside—"

"Actually, Y/N you can head in first. I'll meet you there." Minho says, hands still in his pockets, eyes landing on San.

"O-oh, okay. I'll see you guys in there then." San nods, walking towards the railing to look at the view. Minho follows and stands next to him, arms lazily resting on the bar as well. It's silent for awhile, the both of them taking in the city lights, the distant sounds of car horns and the train passing by, the planes flying up ahead. San really just needed a breather, but if Minho wanted to talk, he'd let it happen.

After all, they haven't really done so after everything. Not that either of them owed it to each other, but the last thing San wants is for Minho to think there's bad blood or that he has something against him. He doesn't.

And Minho doesn't either.

"If you keep heading down this street and turn at that corner, there's this really good restaurant that serves tteokbokki. It's a small place, but they sell a huge serving for cheap. It's an old couple that runs the place. We used to go there a lot with Uncle Adrian." Minho randomly says to break the silence.

"I always appreciate a good tteokbokki spot."

"They told me Y/N's mom used to take her there often, especially to cheer her up when she had a bad day. It was like their tradition, so Uncle Adrian kept it alive after she passed." Minho lets out a small breath, rubbing his hands together. "Y/N misses her."

"Is everything okay?" San asks.

"Mm, yeah."

"With Y/N?"

"I think so. She just told me she wants to see her mom and her childhood home."

"Maybe she's finally ready."

"Her mom's anniversary is coming up. She asked me to take her."

"That's good. At least you can be there with her." San turns to him. "How are things between the both of you, by the way?"

"We're good." Minho looks down at his hands before returning his attention to San. "We're definitely better than before, and the time has been good to us. Especially her."

"It seems like things are more peaceful for her."

"Yeah, and I don't want to ruin that. I think I've done enough to her." Minho shakes his head a bit, moreso an action directed towards himself. "I just want her to be genuinely happy. That's all I care about."

"Despite everything that's happened, I know she cares about you a lot, and I know she cherishes the good moments you had together."

"I owe it to you."

"Me?" San points to himself and Minho lets out a small chuckle.

"I just.. never got to say thank you. You know? For being there for her when I wasn't. For helping take care of her."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I do, and I genuinely want to. Having you close helped her a lot. I know she cares about you, too." San gives him a small smile before looking out at the view. "I've just been wanting to tell you that. I just wasn't sure how or when."

"All good. I'm glad you guys are doing better. That's all I wanted for you guys, too. Whatever is meant to happen in the future, just know she wouldn't wanna do it without you by her side." Minho returns the small smile.

"Anyway. Should we head back inside? The party's probably dying without us."

"You're right." San laughs as he walks alongside of him.

Upon entering earlier, you noticed that much hasn't changed since you stepped out to take a breather. Jisung drunkly threw an arm around you as he continued to sing loudly into the mic, eventually shoving it your way for you to take your turn. You tried to shake your head and crawl your way out of it, but Jisung guilt-tripped you by telling you he needed you to sing a song before the night ended and that you needed to do this for his birthday. You end up doing a little duet with Seungmin before passing the mic over to Chan to take over. Eventually, both San and Minho walk back in to join the party; singing along to the current song playing. When you glance at Minho happily singing along into the mic that has now landed in his hands, you give him a smile; happy to finally feel good around him after the things that have happened.

Tonight, you'll continue to enjoy yourself around your friends and good company.

Tonight, things feel perfect.

Tonight, things feel like the old times Jisung would talk about.

At least, you could give him that for his birthday.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | FRESHMAN YEAR IN COLLEGE

"Babe, hurry! He's gonna wake up." You whisper harshly as Minho struggles to light the last candle on Jisung's cake.

"He's gonna wake up? Are you serious?" You laugh seeing Minho's face.

"Okay, you're right. But, still!"

"Sometimes he doesn't even move at all when I come in to wake him up, and it kinda scares me." Seungmin whispers as Minho finally lights the last candle before carefully scooping it into his hands. The three of you laugh, trying to hold it in to prevent any excess noise. "Okay, let's go." Chan leads the way into Jisung and Minho's dorm suite, holding the door open for him with a balloon in the other hand. You and your friends walk up to the edge of Jisung's bed, finding your positions as soon as the clock hits midnight.

"Happy birthday Pachi!" You yell, the boys singing happy birthday next to you. Jisung shoots up from his bed, hair messy and all.

"What the fuck is happening?" He mumbles, voice husky as he's pulled straight from his sleep.

"It's your birthday, punk! Make a wish!" Chan says, all of you cheering him on while he rubs his eyes.

"So loud. I can't even see." He struggles to open his eyes.

"Make a wish!" You edge the cake closer to him, waiting for Jisung to make his wish and finally blow out his candles. You clap and cheer for him, continuing to sing him happy birthday even as he sleepily bounces along in his bed. Minho sets the cake aside and starts to cut it with a plastic knife, while Seungmin turns on the bathroom light to illuminate part of the room just enough for everyone to see what they're doing. Minho hands everyone a small slice— Chan eating on the edge of Jisung's bed, Seungmin sitting on Minho's desk chair, and Minho on Jisung's desk chair while you sit on his lap.

"Thanks guys." Jisung finishes his cake, hair still messy and all over the place. "Seriously, best birthday so far."

"What'd you wish for?" Seungmin asks, making Jisung glare at him.

"Why on earth would I tell you that?" Jisung laughs.

"We're friends, I'm sure it'll come true no matter what."

"Hm." Jisung pouts a bit. "I just want us to be friends for as long as we possibly can."

"Is that what you wished for?"

"Yes." Chan laughs.

"Swear?"

"Yes, I mean it!"

"Liar. That's a no brainer."

"I really do want us to be friends for a long time. I appreciate you guys more than anything."

"Aw, Ji. Of course." You pinch his cheek. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiles at you and Minho before taking a quick swig of water. "Can I get back to sleep now? We can do whatever later on, just wanna sleep a bit more though." You laugh and nod, taking some foil to wrap around the cake.

"Okay, birthday boy. But, we'll be back later to celebrate some more." Jisung is already laying back down at this point, so he throws a thumbs up in the air. Chan and Seungmin quietly bid their farewell's and goodnight's before walking back to their room. After you clean up around Jisung's area, you step outside of the room with the cake in your hands while Minho zips up his jacket and shuts their door close.

"I'll walk you back to your room."

"Thank you." You smile at him. "We make a pretty good team, don't we?" You playfully pinch his cheek.

"Yeah, we do."

☁︎ END

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dr-tonytonychopper · 9 months ago

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real life jobs i would give to avatar characters

Aang: zoo veterinarian, i feel like he would not like zoos but like working with bigger animals

katara: toddler swim teacher

sokka: history teacher to stay at home dad pipeline

toph: p.e teacher who makes kids do the mile in the rain

suki: personal trainer

zuko: assistant to the manager of a magazine

azula: next in line for ceo(nepo baby)

mai: art teacher

ty lee: aerial dance teacher

iroh: owns a cat cafe, retired army general

ozai: shady ceo

jet: unemployed

korra: physical therapist at a hospital

asami: owns an auto body shop

mako: welder

bolin:kindergarten teacher

tenzin: history teacher who’s fun but super boring at the same time

pema: english teacher to stay at home mom to librarian pipeline

lin: police chief(ofc)

suyin: biologist

bataar: architect

bataar jr: junior architect

kuvira: environmental engineer

huan: artist surviving off of allowance from suyin

opal: cat veterinarian

wei and wing: wwe wrestlers

wu: makos stay at home boyfriend

#legend of korra #mako #bolin #korra #asami sato #suyin beifong #tenzin #lin beifong #avatar the way of water #aang #katara #sokka #toph beifong #suki #zuko

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beautifullache · 8 months ago

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🦄The Sims 4🦄

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Allow Teens

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Allow Elders

Harris Teeter

Harris Teeter Supermarkets, LLC., also known as Harris Teeter Neighborhood Food & Pharmacy, is an American supermarket chain based in Matthews, North Carolina, a suburb of Charlotte. As of February 2024, the chain operates 259 stores in seven South Atlantic states and Washington, D.C.

Cashier

Assistant Dairy/Frozen Manager

Deli Bakery Clerk

Meat Clerk

Grocery Manager

Produce Clerk

Personal Shopper

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Lowes Foods

Founded in 1954, Lowes Foods employs approximately 9,000 people and operates nearly 100 full-service supermarkets in North Carolina, South Carolina and Virginia. Locally owned and operated, Lowes Foods is truly a homegrown company committed to bringing community back to the table, by providing customers with the freshest and most innovative local products from local suppliers. The company maintains a strong focus on exceptional attention to our guests, with services like Lowes Foods-To-Go personal shopping and gas rewards discounts. To learn more, visit lowesfoods.com or follow Lowes Foods on Facebook or Twitter. Lowes Foods, LLC is a wholly owned subsidiary of Alex Lee, Inc.

Grocery Stocker

Personal Shopper

Deli Clerk

Bakery Clerk

Dairy/Frozen Stocker

Cake Decorator

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Sam's Club

Sam’s Club is home to more than 100,000 associates in more than 660 locations all working together to provide great service and value to our members. By providing innovative products, a shopping experience infused with digital solutions such as Scan & Go and Club Pickup and support to the communities we serve, we truly differentiate our company in the marketplace. The constant pursuit to surprising and delight our members drives our business every day.

Backroom Associate

Cafe Associate

Team Lead

Personal Shopper

Merchandise and Stocking Associate

Freezer, Cooler and Deli Stocker Associate

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Walmart

Walmart store managers are the best leaders in retail, and we’re investing in them – simplifying their pay structure and redesigning their bonus program, giving them the opportunity to earn an annual bonus up to 200% of their base salary.

Cashier & Front End Services

Food & Grocery

General Merchandise

Online Orderfilling & Delivery

Stocking & Unloading

Auto Care Center

Fuel Station

Health & Wellness

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littlequeenies · 7 months ago

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Ringo and Barbara with their respective daughters, Lee and Francesca as their flower girls on the official wedding portraits, April 27, 1981.

Unknown photographer.

#Lee Starkey #Barbara Bach #Francesca Gregorini #Ringo Starr #1981 #1980s #1981 Lee #1980s Lee #childhood #1981 Barbara #1980s Barbara #model #actress #make up artist #stylist #shop assistant #boutique owner #backing vocalist #designer

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planetkiimchi · 1 year ago

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and they were roommates | l.dh

featuring: lee haechan x masc!reader, nct dream

warnings: a little (?) bit of gore, blood, and a “crunching sound” which in my head was bone breaking. swearing but not a lot, alcohol is mentioned, ynhyuck get really drunk at some point, the first line is a bit painful to read but that’s just what cold weather feels like, yn has major regrets quite a lot. y/n is oblivious but in their defense, donghyuck is really fucking flirty and the mixed signals are confusing to everyone. y/n doesn’t like coffee (deal with it) and eats pizza in the absolute weirdest way possible.

word count: 13882 words

playlist: nonsense by sabrina carpenter // photograph by ed sheeran // fallin' (adrenaline) by why don't we // sweet nothing by taylor swift // coffee shop by flowerovlove // really wanna dance with you by new rules

summary — lee donghyuck is the most flirtatious person you’ve ever known and he makes you feel welcome in the foreign country. it makes sense that you gravitate towards him, but what do you do when you realise you’re falling for him with every act of his?

a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts since march, and it really only made it out because of @winterchimez thank you so, so much to ally for reading this longass incoherent fic and allowing me to share this piece of my heart with you guys

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

THE BITING WIND BLEW HARSHLY at your cheeks, turning them redder than they already were. It felt as if there were a million shards of ice slowly chipping away at your skin, your skin cells freezing off your face.

What a warm welcome to Seoul, you thought sardonically.

You had enrolled in Seoul Institute of the Arts for one reason alone, and that was that the only cousin who was your age, Na Jaemin, had applied to go there last year. Having made an unexpected decision not to go into Neurosciences like the rest of his friends, Jaemin found himself blissfully alone and afraid to apply. He wasn’t planning on going alone, yet he desperately wanted to get in, so he had decided to turn to you for assistance.

That was the first time you had heard him admit that you were his favourite cousin (you probably weren’t). You had been on the other end of the spectrum at the time, completely unsure what direction you wanted your life to continue in. You had had no idea what to pursue, and had hence decided to make an impulsive decision to apply to Seoul Institute of the Arts with Jaemin.

To be very honest, you hadn’t expected to get in. It was a spur of the moment decision, and SIA was an extremely prestigious university. Your background in visual arts was minimal, so you were mostly relying on your extensive dance history to carry you through it.

Unfortunately for you, it worked. This was how you had ended up on the plane to Seoul a year later, your regret almost as bitter as the cold when you thought about how lonely you would be.

Your grasp of the Korean language was minimal, and you hated how the phonetic sounds differed just slightly, enough for you to get it wrong but not for you to understand why.

It was alright when you lived in the United Kingdom, because there you only had to say a few words in Korean to impress your non-Korean relatives. Privately, your mother had taken you out of the Korean international school when she saw that your Korean hadn’t improved in the slightest.

In Korea, you would be disadvantaged both by the language barrier and your lack of passion for your major. Besides, if the weather continued to be as cold as it was at the moment, you might as well have stayed in England. At least there, you could romantically share an umbrella with someone in the dreary rain. What could you do in Korea, huddle with someone as you ran from building to building while a flurry of white snow fell from the sky? How pathetic.

You were absorbed in your thoughts, feet carrying you mindlessly through the steps towards the arrival area. You struggled and stuttered your way through immigration with broken sentences, finally making your way to the taxi stand.

You were mentally preparing yourself to exit the warmth of the airport and face the freezing temperatures when you heard your name, face turning towards the direction of the familiar voice.

Jaemin ran up to you, the soft smile gracing his face as close to a wide grin as you could get from him. He threw his hands around you, hugging you tightly, and you collapsed into his warmth, so relieved that he was there. Maybe Seoul wouldn’t be so bad after all.

When he let go of you, composing himself, you took the time to scan the new faces. Jaemin hadn’t come alone; he had come with three other friends, who were all looking at you expectantly with welcoming gazes.

“I’m L/n Y/n,” you told them politely. “Jaemin’s my cousin, and my mother and his father are siblings.” With that, you ran out of things to say, and you stared at the group with an awkward smile as the silence turned thick with hesitation.

The silence was then broken by a rather cheerful individual amongst Jaemin’s friends, who said, “Shall we go? It’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired from the long flight. We’ll take a taxi back to the dormitory and show you your room. You and Jaemin are staying together, right?”

You nodded gratefully as the young man took the lead, and the rest of you followed suit. Jaemin reached out to help you with your luggage, but you shook your head. There was no need since you hadn’t brought much to Korea. You intended to buy anything you needed there since you assumed the clothes you needed would be quite different from those you owned.

You quickly came to realise that the young man who had just spoken was the only extrovert in the group. You and Jaemin were introverts and perfectly content to sit in silence. The others didn’t seem to make any attempt to strike up a conversation, letting the silence settle comfortably over you. However, despite being in the passenger seat and therefore the furthest from the rest, the young man simply wouldn’t stop talking.

He introduced himself as Lee Donghyuck who had graduated from the same high school as Jaemin. He and Jaemin had only met a month ago when they first moved into the dorm. You had had to make arrangements for your flight when you received the acceptance letter, so you were among the later few to arrive.

Although Donghyuck and Jaemin were essentially strangers, it wouldn’t have seemed so to a passerby. Donghyuck ensured that there was never a dull or awkward moment and that no opportunity to flirt with his friends was missed.

You had only known Donghyuck for an hour and yet you were already starting to like him. You relaxed into the seat, closing your eyes and exhaling in relief as the sound of Donghyuck’s voice prattling away filled your ears.

He talked during the entire ride, telling you about the rooming conditions—four to a room, and you were with him, Renjun and Mark, the other two in the car—, the professors’ reputations that he had gotten from the seniors, and the other three boys who were sleeping and weren’t able to pick you up.

Usually a talk like that would have drained your energy, using up all your social battery trying to think of a reply to keep the conversation going. However, the thing about Donghyuck was that he didn’t expect you to answer. He was perfectly fine with the sound of his voice being the only thing filling the silence, which made it much more bearable.

—

You only realised that you had fallen asleep when Jaemin shook your shoulder to wake you up. In the corner of your bleary vision, you caught sight of Mark paying for the ride, and you instinctively reached for your wallet before realising it was safely tucked away in your back pocket. Which you were sitting on.

Sighing, you silently apologised to your parents for not maintaining basic etiquette and insisting on paying, clambering out of the taxi with shaky legs, feeling a little tired (not that you would admit it).

You soon realised that Donghyuck was a clingy person. While you leaned on Jaemin for support as you wheeled your luggage along, he leaned on Renjun’s shoulder, upbeat as ever despite the late timing. The high-pitched voice that he used to talk to Renjun would have been cringey if it wasn’t him doing it. Somehow, when Donghyuck was doing it, it was cute and endearing.

The room that you were assigned was on the second floor, so you had to choose between climbing the stairs and lugging the heavy luggage up or walking out of the way to find the lift.

Obviously, as the lazy person that you were, you chose the former. With a grunt and a heave, you somehow managed to get the luggage up the stairs while Donghyuck cheered you on.

“You’ve got this, Y/n! I believe in you!” When he saw that it wasn’t working, he even threw in a little “Fighting!” and you smiled despite your exhaustion. You would have laughed if the ache in your shoulders wasn’t killing you.

Fortunately, that was the hardest part. The rest was easy—you left your shoes outside the door, placed your luggage at the side so you could unpack your nightwear and take the things you needed for your shower. Donghyuck, Mark and Renjun followed you inside while Jaemin retreated to his own room.

The room was surprisingly cozy, with enough space for a bookcase, desk, and four single beds. There was a mini fridge in the corner of the room, so that was what you went to first.

The guys had placed their personal belongings neatly, so you followed suit, taking out your personal items and setting your luggage upright against the wall. While you did so, Mark and Donghyuck used the two attached restrooms to get changed while Renjun sat on the floor and watched you curiously.

“Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking? You couldn’t have studied in Korea, surely. Jaemin didn’t exactly tell us much about you,” Renjun said.

“My mother grew up in Korea, and went to England to study. She met my father there, and I grew up in England, but I do know a little Korean,” you said with difficulty. “And you? Your name doesn’t sound very Korean either.”

“I’m from China but came to Korea because my grandmother suggested it. I actually came on a scholarship and went to the same high school as Donghyuck. All of us went to the same one, actually.”

You nodded in understanding. Understandably, people gravitated towards those they knew, especially in unfamiliar environments.

“Donghyuck actually initiated this. I’m not sure if you realised, but he’s very outgoing. He somehow found out all of our phone numbers, knew of my existence through passing me in the hallways, got Jaemin’s number from a mutual friend, Jeno, and created a group chat. Even now, I still think it was a lot of effort, but it seems to have worked. And, you know, it isn’t half as awkward anymore.”

That did sound like something you would expect of Donghyuck, you thought. As Renjun finished speaking, Donghyuck and Mark came out of the restroom, and you brushed past them as you went inside to take a quick shower.

—

The shower did wonders for your exhaustion. Your muscles didn’t feel half as tense anymore, and you actually felt fresh and comfortable in warm clothes. You rubbed your hair dry as you exited the restroom, glancing at the filled beds.

Mark and Renjun were lying in bed, and they gave you a quick goodnight as you made your way over to the last empty bed, right next to Donghyuck. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie, sitting hunched over at the edge of his bed, looking intently at his phone.

If it were Jaemin, who also happened to have a terrible shrimp posture, you would have tapped his back to remind him to sit up straight, taken his phone from him while setting it down on the bedside table and told him to sleep.

As it was, he was Donghyuck, not your cousin, so you didn’t have the right to do so. Instead, you snuggled into your bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin until you were nice and warm, shutting your eyes as you said, “G’night, Donghyuck.”

You didn’t see him raise his head and turn to see you, smiling when he realised that you had spoken to him properly for the first time that day. He whispered softly, “G’night,” and put his phone away. He let out a sigh of relief as he flopped onto the bed and fell fast asleep.

YOU QUICKLY SETTLED INTO A ROUTINE at the university. It was easy to do so when each of your days had a set schedule and things for you to do. It was never monotonous, but the structure helped to keep you going and not stop.

In the mornings, you woke up to beverages on the table, which Donghyuck bought for everyone. At first, he hadn’t gotten your order right. He had memorised the others’ orders during the month that they had been roommates before you arrived, but took a couple of times to get what you wanted right.

Coffee from Donghyuck looked something like this: a cup of steaming hot coffee would somehow make its way to the table in the mornings after you came out of the shower, or finished changing your clothes. The coffee was always accompanied by a note. For Renjun, it was a compliment, and it was often about how pretty his eyes were. For Mark, it was either a “you’re so amazing, never forget it”, or a “stupid fool”. There was never an in-between.

And for you?

Well, on the first day, it was a frappuccino with plenty of sprinkles on it, the sugar content so high you were sure it made up for the lack of actual caffeine in it. That gave you a sugar rush so bad you could barely sit still in lectures, knees constantly jiggling under the table.

You knocked over your bottle twice that day and even almost dropped your laptop on the floor because your knee hit the bottom of the table, causing your laptop to slip.

After that, Donghyuck realised sugar wasn’t your thing.

The second day, he went for an espresso that probably had eight shots in it. (It was then accompanied by a pickup line, “do you have a map? cuz i got lost in your eyes”. It was cheesy, but some part of your heart found it cute.) You recognised it as Jaemin’s order, and had laughed to yourself when you realised that Donghyuck wasn’t very good at guessing what you liked.

However, you stopped laughing as soon as you tasted the drink. The espresso was pure caffeine, so black and bitter you wanted to spit out every sip you took of it. You probably would have been better able to stomach a shrimp linguini that you were allergic to than you did the espresso.

That day was pure hell. Your classes didn’t begin until the afternoon, so the day began with a dance class. You missed your bus and had the taste of the espresso in your mouth while you suffered through your dance class. The teacher was strict, which you generally didn’t mind, but that day, it felt like he was out to get you. He corrected you at every turn, and you had every mind to quit.

Afterwards, you realised that you had forgotten to do the pre-reading for your class and had to rush it as you sprinted to the building, only managing to absorb at most a quarter of what you were meant to know.

To make things worse, you had gotten lost three times trying to find the classroom and were late and completely lost for the whole class. You eventually gave up trying to comprehend what was happening, instead leaning over to the seat next to you and asking your classmate to send you his notes.

He was a little confused, but he agreed, and that was how (you thought) you made your first friend outside Jaemin’s friend group.

It later turned out that his name was Jeno, and he was the mutual friend that Renjun had told you about. So he knew both Donghyuck and Jaemin, so all your pride in talking to someone new dissipated faster than the taste of espresso in your mouth.

Since you didn’t really have many other friends besides the “dreamies”, which was what Jaemin’s friend group called themselves, you had no one but them to complain about your terrible day.

Donghyuck learnt his lesson for the next time. The third time, Donghyuck bought you jasmine green tea with boba at 25% percent sugar because he “remembered that you didn’t like the sugar rush the first time”. He had circled the sticker on the cup in red pen so you could see the exact order and had written: without milk, because i'm not sure if you’re lactose intolerant.

You were glad that he had finally caught on and realised that you didn’t like coffee much. While you weren’t the biggest fan of tea, you did enjoy boba and that ended up being the most pleasant beverage out of them all. It was partly because he had considered your possible allergies and remembered your dislike of the frappuccino. But more importantly, you liked it because Donghyuck had put so much effort into trying to find something that you would like instead of simply asking you what you liked like a normal person.

However, even that wasn’t the end of it. Donghyuck could tell from your reaction to the drink that it wasn’t something you were expecting and was dead set on finding out your favourite drink order.

It took about five more tries before he finally found out.

It happened when Mark came to pick you up after your dance class, with Jisung (one of the dreamies) in the passenger seat and Donghyuck in the back seat of the car. You had all but collapsed into the seat, limbs tiredly splayed out across the backseat of the car.

To his credit, Donghyuck hadn’t complained about you taking up space, only shifting so that you could comfortably sprawl across two seats while he sat upright in his. When you stretched and knocked his jaw, he laughed good-naturedly and lowered the middle seat so that you could prop your head up and rest comfortably.

When you woke up, the car was parked in front of a convenience store, and Mark told you that Donghyuck and Jisung had gone to get some ramyeon and other items.

Despite Mark’s protests, you zipped up your jacket and climbed out of the car, intent on getting yourself a box of Nesquik packets to get your energy up after the long day.

You intercepted Donghyuck at the glass doors, dragging him with you as you made your purchase and held it in your hand sheepishly as you followed Jisung back to the car, waving your box of Nesquik packets at Mark in explanation as you entered the car.

Mark nodded knowingly, and as he started driving off, he asked, “You’ll make me a cup too, right?”

You nodded, replying in English. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

“Oh, so you’ll make it for me because we’re friends, not because you want to thank me for my driving services?”

“That too,” you shrugged. Donghyuck looked between the two of you, completely lost.

“Can I have a translation, please?” As Mark translated it to Donghyuck, you took note of the words you were unsure of, taking out your phone to note it down. You were too busy trying to catch what Mark said to notice the fond look Donghyuck gave you, mentally noting to help you with Korean when he could.

After that day, Donghyuck always made you hot Nesquik in the evenings, and you grew used to coming home to a hot steamy mug of the delicious beverage.

—

Amidst the busy classes, being with Donghyuck felt like the calmness of the deep waters in the middle of a storm. His presence made the mountain of work piling up feel manageable and made all your stress and worries seem trivial. Donghyuck made everything bearable for you.

Throughout the semester, you constantly had to translate different your pre-reading to English and record your lectures to come back to Mark to ask him for help. Mark probably learnt more from your lectures than you did, but it helped enormously.

Mark was always patient, never growing tired of helping you. When he couldn’t translate something either, you always fell back on good old Google Translate or simply asked the professor yourself.

Some of the professors spoke fluent English, which was a huge help, and most were willing to help you as long as you showed initiative in taking charge of your own learning.

One afternoon, you returned to the dorm with a cinnamon roll in hand and your papers in the other, looking for Mark to help you.

Unfortunately, Mark was away, having been called to help tutor another of his friends. The only one at the dormitory was Donghyuck, who was busy tapping away at his laptop. Disappointed, you turned to leave to find your professor instead when Donghyuck turned, seemingly having a sixth sense for your presence.

“‘Sup,” He nodded at the papers in your hand. “Do you need help with those, or…?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I was gonna ask Mark for help, but it seems like he’s not here, so I’m going to find one of my professors instead. Or probably one of the other students, I don’t know.”

Donghyuck waved you over to the desk, and you pulled out a chair and sat down. He hummed as he read through the sheaf of papers before handing them back to you.

“I can’t say I’m very good at English, but I’m sure we could figure it out together. Anyway, we both major in Fine Arts, so it can’t be that hard, right?”

—

That was how you and Donghyuck ended up at the shared desk in your room, huddled over papers as you groaned about terminology. You didn’t understand why dance needed such complicated terminology; if dance teachers could “hm ah one-two” their way through their classes, surely you didn’t need your major to get a job in the industry.

However, Donghyuck refused to let you give up, guiding you through the questions one by one. The pre-reading was especially difficult, but when Donghyuck let you read it aloud and helped you with words you didn’t understand, suddenly, it felt a lot easier.

It helped that the professor had plenty of visual resources, and pictures and videos helped to attract your attention. Whenever there was a video of a certain dance technique you needed to know about, you eagerly clicked on it, grateful for the reprieve it offered from the constant onslaught of words on your screen.

Somehow, just like that, the afternoon passed by rather quickly, with both of you efficiently clearing everything that you needed to by the time Mark returned with takeout for all of you.

Donghyuck reached out to help taking the containers out of the plastic bag, hissing sharply and almost dropping the container on the table. “It’s hot!”

“What were you expecting?” You asked incredulously.

He shrugged. “I thought it would have cooled down on the ride here or something.”

Mark stared at him. “My car’s heated.”

The realisation hit Donghyuck like a truck, and you couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you at his shocked face. “Right, shit. I forgot about that.”

You were doubled over in laughter, and Renjun had to shake your shoulders roughly to get you to stop. When you could finally stand straight again, you looked Donghyuck in the eyes and snorted.

“You’re pretty dumb for someone who knew all the answers to my homework,” you told him.

“Well, you’re pretty annoying for someone who just got my help for his homework,” he retorted.

You couldn’t argue with that. You made a face, to which Donghyuck made a face back, and you harrumphed and sat down to enjoy your takeout.

You noisily slurped your noodles, some of the sauce splashing on your face. Before you could reach up to wipe it away, Donghyuck reached for your chin, pulled you towards him, and gently wiped your face clean with his thumb.

You froze, caught in his gaze. The two of you stared at each other, Donghyuck raising his eyebrows and smirking, before you finally shook your head free of his grasp and moved back, flustered. You were sure that your face was as red as a tomato, but Donghyuck only laughed.

He laughed like it was nothing, and the careless sound of his laughter mixed with the look on his face made you smile too. You couldn’t help it, his happiness was contagious, and sometimes you found that Donghyuck made your life a lot more bearable.

“I'M BORED.”

Donghyuck was sprawled out on the bed, glasses resting precariously on the tip of his nose (he’d forgotten to wear his night lenses the night before). Next to him, Renjun was sitting on the edge of his bed, studiously texting Chenle. Even Mark, the most disciplined of you all, wasn’t doing work.

The room smelled of dirty clothes and… Chinese takeout? You cast a glance over at the coffee table that you ate at, and realised that there were still empty takeout containers on the table. You quickly went to throw them away, scrunching your nose in disgust at the sheer amount of hoodies piled up on bags, the backs of the chairs, and generally strewn about messily.

“Yah, Donghyuck, come and clean up your mess.”

Donghyuck looked over at your annoyed face and quickly got up, obediently putting his clothes away and throwing the dirty ones into the hamper.

“I’m going to bring these to the laundromat, why don’t you call the others over and we’ll have a pizza party? I don’t think any of us is in the mood to do work now.”

Donghyuck nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it. Y/n, what pizza would you like?”

“Jaemin knows. Just get whatever the majority wants and we’ll share.”

“Sounds good,” Mark chimed in. “And, Y/n, can you bring this too?” He handed you a bag full of dirty clothes and you shifted the hamper over to one side so you could handle both, and Renjun helped you with the door as you shuffled out.

—

When you came back, Jaemin informed you that he had ordered pepperoni for you, since Jeno wanted some meat, and Donghyuck had gotten Hawaiian and four-cheese for the others. They had bought the largest size, so hopefully it would be enough for all of you.

When the pizza came, everyone dove in with renewed energy, the lethargic boys coming back to life as they scarfed down the food. Donghyuck reached out to take a slice of your pizza, withdrawing when he realised that there were olives on it.

“What, you don’t like—what’s the word?” You asked.

“Olives?” Mark supplied.

“Yeah, olives?”

“Nah,” Donghyuck replied. “‘M not a fan.” Yet his face betrayed him, and you could see the longing in his eyes as he watched you eat your pizza, looking down sadly at his own.

“Do you want to trade? You can pass me the olives from the pepperoni, and I’ll take your Hawaiian as long as you keep the pineapples.”

“You don’t like pineapples?” Donghyuck asked, scandalised.

“Of course not, who does?” You looked at Jaemin. “Come on, Jaem, back me up on this. Besides, fruit on pizza is such a strange concept.”

“Tomato’s a fruit,” Jisung pointed out, mouth full.

You frowned. “Don’t talk with your mouth open. But okay, fair point, I concede. Fruit on pizza isn’t weird, just pineapple on pizza.”

“Hey!” You threw Donghyuck a triumphant grin, handing him a slice of pizza with the olives plucked off, heaped on your plate. There was oil dripping from your hands and mouth, so you wiped your chin with the back of your hand and got up to wash your hands.

“Don’t touch my pizza,” you warned.

Renjun mock-gasped. “How scary!” When you glared at him, he quickly corrected himself, “Oh, I meant, ‘wouldn’t dream of it!’”, to which you nodded approvingly in response.

—

You returned to your seat only to find Donghyuck had started a new, heated discussion, and everyone was participating actively, except for Jeno, who looked content with stuffing his mouth and just listening.

“I think it’s fine if they separate the leaves, it’s just weird if they do it while giggling and giving each other flirtatious looks,” Chenle was saying.

“But there’s no other reason to do that than to flirt!” Donghyuck cried out.

“What’s going on?” Renjun, bless his soul, explained the perilla debate to you while Donghyuck and Chenle went at each other’s throats. It turned out that the perilla debate was very simple: if your significant other helped to separate the pesky perilla leaves for your close friend to eat, was that acceptable?

You cocked your head in confusion. That was a topic up for debate? It was simple enough to leave people alone to eat, especially if they were both people you knew and trusted. If you could bring them out to eat together, what was the reason for you to prevent interaction between them? If you were that sensitive, you might as well not have invited them to eat at the same meal.

You voiced out your thoughts, but Donghyuck wasn’t having it. “It’s just dumb. Why was your significant other paying attention to the friend? They should be paying attention to you!”

You gave him a hard look. “Seriously? It’s not like you can forbid interaction between two people you love. You just think it’s weird because you’re an outrageous flirt, and in those circumstances, you would definitely be doing it with an ulterior motive.”

Chenle and Mark nodded in unison. “Face it, Hyuck, your opinion is just wrong.”

Donghyuck pouted and turned his back to you all, furiously opening up the food app on his phone and tapping away.

Jeno leaned over his shoulder to take a peek and began laughing uncontrollably, almost choking on the food in his mouth. “He’s ordering a dish with perilla leaves on it to prove his point!”

The entire room burst out into laughter, and you were so loud you heard a knocking on the door as someone told you to “shut the hell up, it’s already 10pm and some people want peace and silence.”

Subdued, the laughter died out, but wide grins remained on your faces as you watched Donghyuck in amusement, intent on proving his point and unwilling to give up until he had showed you all.

The food arrived faster than you had expected, and Donghyuck ran to the door to receive it, laying out the bowl and showing everyone the perilla leaves.

He handed Jaemin a pair of chopsticks and pointed to the dish. “Okay, Jaemin, you’re going to pretend that you can’t pick up the perilla leaves, and then I’ll swoop in and save the day.”

Jaemin immediately shook his head, vigorously expressing his disagreement. “I’m not getting dragged into this stupid shit. Jisung, take the chopsticks.”

Jisung crossed his hands over his chest, waving away the chopsticks. “Why don’t you pass it to Y/n? He’s the one who started this whole thing, after all.”

You were shoved into the seat opposite Donghyuck, a defeated sigh leaving your lips as you took the chopsticks and tried to pick up the perilla leaves with your chopsticks. You didn’t even have to fake a failed attempt to pick it up; your chopstick skills had never been good, so no matter how you tried, you couldn’t pick it up.

Seeing your genuine struggle, Donghyuck took the chance to expertly pick up the leaves and separated one piece from the rest (show-off). “Ahh,” he said, and you opened your mouth instinctively.

“Is it good?” He asked sweetly, and you nodded dumbly. It was actually pretty good, but you didn’t know why. You had never liked perilla leaves much, but maybe the way Donghyuck was looking at you or the pressurising gaze on your back made it taste a lot better than you used to think it did.

“That’s good, Y/n-ah.” He reached over to brush your hair out of your face, but it just flopped back down in front of your eyes again. He giggled, and that was your breaking point, and you broke out of character, laughing into your palm as Donghyuck shrugged as if to say, See? “I told you, it’s an intimate gesture!”

You shook your head exasperatedly. “If you say so, Lee Donghyuck.”

You went back to eating, peeling off the ham and cheese from your pizza to save for later. It was your favourite part of the pizza, so you didn’t want to waste it.

“Y/n…” Chenle’s warning tone made you look up in fear.

“Yes?”

“What in the world are you doing?”

“I just like ham and cheese,” you replied defensively. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Chenle shook his head exasperatedly. “No, just- that’s the weirdest way of eating pizza I’ve ever seen.”

“Well,” you said, licking your fingers clean, “Jaemin used to separate the gummies into flavours and pass me all the strawberry ones when he was little because he hates strawberries, so you should give me a pass for this one.”

While Jaemin tried to defend himself against your sudden jab at him, Jeno set up his computer on the table and waved everyone who was done eating over onto the bed, using his mini projector (he was a film major) to project his screen on the wall.

“What do y’all want to watch?”

“All of us are dead,” Renjun said without hesitation. You and Jisung looked at each other nervously, not being lovers of horror movies and especially hesitant because of the zombies in the series. However, you were outnumbered 6 to 2, so you settled in under the blanket and drew it up to your eyes, prepared to scream if anything scary happened.

Jisung didn’t join you, probably to hang onto whatever shreds of fragile masculinity he still had. You had thrown away all of yours because it wasn’t like you could control your fear anyway. You preferred to scream in comfort, thank you very much.

The episode started out surprisingly tame, so you lowered the blanket and leaned forward to get a better look.

Donghyuck let out a little “oof” when you rested your chin on his shoulder, but only scooted backwards so you could have a better view.

You were just starting to get absorbed in the story, thinking that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all, when one of the girls was turned into a zombie.

“Fuck!” You screamed, leaping back as the girl’s neck cracked at an unnatural angle, blood dripping from her nostrils and mouth. You cowered under the blanket that you had hurriedly pulled over your head, shuddering in fear with your hands clasped tightly over your ears.

You were still trembling when you finally decided to peek out from under the blanket, meeting Mark’s and Donghyuck’s concerned eyes with a reassuring smile.

“I'm all right, y’all. Just surprised.”

Mark snorted. As if. But he didn’t challenge you, instead asking, “Why the hell do you know fuck in Korean and not ‘delivery service’? One of them is clearly more commonly used than the other.”

“Yeah, and that’s fuck. I think you forgot that we’re all still teenage guys and male youths. Swearing is part of our vocabulary.”

“Fair enough,” Mark conceded.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, came closer to you, back pressed to the wall as he rubbed your back comfortingly. “Do you want to watch something else?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s alright. It’s actually interesting, I just get grossed out.”

Donghyuck nodded in understanding. “I'll sit beside you, and when the scary scenes show up, I'll cover your ears so you can pull the blanket over yourself. Sounds good?”

You nodded.

The episode continued, and you successfully made it three entire episodes before you got another jumpscare, and Donghyuck did as he had promised, wrapping your head tightly in a hug so you couldn't hear a single thing.

He squealed, “cute!” when you were scared and hugged you tightly. He covered your view so well you didn’t even need the blanket to hide the scene from yourself.

Donghyuck ended up hugging you for the rest of the night, and you leaned your head on his shoulder and squeezed his hands extra tightly whenever something happened, shutting your eyes when you heard any crunching sound.

Just like that, you made it through one season of “All of Us are Dead”, falling asleep past midnight with your only friends in university in your room, with someone by your side embracing you as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

—

While you were asleep, the others cleaned up the mess that they had made, throwing out the empty pizza boxes and takeout utensils, wiping the table clean and moving all clothes to one side.

The dreamies from the other room left after bidding Mark, Renjun and Donghyuck goodnight, while the remaining three in your room took turns showering in the toilet.

When Donghyuck, the last of the three, came out of the toilet towelling his hair dry, he realised that you were lying across two beds, blanket kicked off your feet.

He hung his towel up and went over to you, sighing as he placed his hands under you and tried to lift you up.

However, he forgot that you were both taller and bulkier than him, and staggered back when he tried to carry you. He rested his hands on his hips, staring down at you as the gears whirred in his mind, trying to figure out a way to move you.

Mark’s eyes flitted open, and he had a clear view of you and Donghyuck from his bed. He saw Donghyuck struggling but chose not to say a thing, waiting patiently for Donghyuck to make another move.

With a soft groan, Donghyuck hefted you into his arms and staggered around the bed before dropping you back down, in the correct position that time, on the right bed.

Luckily, you were fast asleep, so you didn’t wake up. Mark reached over to Renjun’s bed and nudged him awake, whispering, “Bet you 10,000 won that when they end up together, Donghyuck will kiss Y/n first.”

Confusion flashed over Renjun’s face before he understood. He hadn’t realised that Donghyuck was clearly interested in you, hadn’t even known that he was interested in males until Mark pointed it out. But once it had been brought to his attention, it seemed as if it had been clear all along.

“He’ll never confess aloud, I bet Y/n will have to make the first move,” Renjun countered.

“We’ll see,” Mark said. Renjun agreed, and soon the room fell silent as all four occupants drifted off into dreamland.

THE NEXT DAY WAS A SATURDAY, so everyone woke up late. By the time you opened your eyes, it was 9am, and you were the second one up. The bed beside you was Donghyuck’s, and it was empty.

Donghyuck didn’t seem like a morning person to you, so you were surprised that he had left the dormitory room so early in the morning. You blinked tiredly, hauling yourself out of bed to get breakfast. The sound of you rummaging through the mini-fridge for food must have been quite loud, because Mark woke up and stared blankly at you, eyelids drooping sleepily.

“What’re you doing?” He mumbled.

“Looking for ingredients to make breakfast with. We only have ramyeon, but I’m pretty sick of that.”

“Hyuck works at his mom’s bakery on weekends, there’s probably food there. If you’re hungry, just head over and get food from him. He’ll know what we like, and you can buy whatever you want.” With that, Mark fell back asleep before you could ask him to tell you the address.

Just then, a yellow-coloured post-it on the table caught your eye and you went over to take a look. It said in neat handwriting, “y/n, i’ve left for work. if you want to come over to café 127, you can study there and we can take the bus back to the dorms afterwards. it’s pretty close by,” and the address, signed with “yours, hyuck.”

“Huh,” you said, tucking the note into your pocket after looking up what bus to take to get there. It was only a couple of stops away, awfully convenient, and you weren’t going to give up the chance to study.

You changed into presentable clothes, grabbing a coat and your wallet before heading out of the door.

—

The café was bigger than you had expected. It was really close to the university, and located on the streets, so you couldn't possibly miss it. You loitered outside the café for a bit, debating whether to go in.

A flash of movement caught your eye, and you saw Donghyuck flitting about, taking customers’ orders.

Inhaling deeply, you squashed your nerves and calmed yourself down, going inside.

The café smelt like… Donghyuck, oddly enough. It smelt like vanilla essence and chocolate chips, and the same scent of perfume that Donghyuck probably used. You must have unconsciously associated the scent of Donghyuck with home, because entering the café felt like coming home to warmth after a long, cold day.

You grinned at Donghyuck and waved at him, taking a seat by the window. You placed your bag on the seat and went to buy yourself something, queueing in line behind two other people.

When it was your turn, your gaze flickered downwards, darting over the black, dapper uniform Donghyuck was wearing. The simple apron that bore a golden-brown logo on the right side wouldn’t have looked half as good on anyone else, not that you would admit it.

“Morning, Hyuck. I’d like…” your voice trailed off as you realised you didn’t even know what they sold. You peered into the display case, seeing fudge brownies and cinnamon rolls for sale.

Donghyuck’s mother bustled past, giving Donghyuck a few orders when she caught sight of you, stopping short in her tracks with a delighted gasp.

“You’re such a handsome man,” she told you. “You look like a prince!”

“Mum,” Donghyuck whined. “He’s my friend, you’re embarrassing me.”

Donghyuck’s mother laughed, and her mannerisms were exactly like Donghyuck’s. Her face crinkled up and her eyes disappeared into a line, and even the sound of her laughter was exactly like her son’s. Mama’s boy, you thought to yourself.

“Silly boy, of course you’re handsome too. After all, you are my son.” At that, even you broke into laughter. That must have been where Donghyuck got his confidence from. Donghyuck rolled his eyes and asked you to get on with your order.

“I’d like a cinnamon roll, please,” you decided, and paid for it.

“You just like cinnamon rolls because you're basic,” Donghyuck teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“And what about it?”

Donghyuck raised both his eyebrows at your defensive tone, but he didn’t take the bait, instead handing you your change and order. “Have a nice day, prince.”

You shot him a confused look, then realised he was teasing you for what his mother had said about you. “You too, pretty boy.”

It was good that you had turned around so you couldn’t see how furiously Donghyuck blushed when you said that.

—

You wouldn't have realised that it was past noon if Donghyuck hadn’t tapped your shoulder, wrenching you out of your focused state and drawing you back into reality.

In his hands, he was clutching a muffin, which he placed in front of you along with a mug full of steaming Nesquik. “Eat first, don't be so concerned about your work,” he chided, and you rolled your eyes but thanked him anyway.

When you gratefully bit into the muffin, you felt melted cheese oozing out of it, and you pulled it away from your mouth, staring at it in amazement. You took your time, savouring every bite of the muffin. It was still warm from the oven and tasted heavenly.

You spotted a few pieces of ham inside the muffin, and realised that it was a ham-and-cheese muffin! You hadn’t seen that in the display case earlier, so perhaps Donghyuck had baked it himself.

You made a mental note to ask him about it later, returning to your work with a full stomach and heart.

—

As you got up to leave, collecting your mug and the plate to return to Donghyuck for them to wash, you realised that there was a little sticky note on the other side of the mug.

It read, "for my prince. study hard <3", and you couldn’t help the blush creeping across your cheeks. You felt your face heat up as the corners of your lips lifted up into a smile. He’s so stupidly pretty.

—

Donghyuck came home smelling like pancake batter and cinnamon rolls, which was enough to confirm that you were down horrendous for him.

When he slipped into bed, his voice was slightly husky from talking the whole day as he took down orders. “Good night, Y/n.”

Instead of answering, you rolled over to face him, asking, “Do you think I'm handsome?”

Donghyuck hesitated for only a second, but it was enough to make you nervous. Why didn’t he want to respond? Was it because he didn’t like you, or something else? Your mind conjured up endless unreasonable questions, almost going crazy with the silence that was thick with tension.

“I think you're attractive, definitely. Why, are you feeling insecure?” He asked. “I hope you know that when I saw you at the airport, my first thought was ‘Shit, my position as the visual in the group is being compromised.’ I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

You were still dissatisfied, so Donghyuck approached you as if to inspect your face, and pointed at his eyes. “I'm wearing my night lenses now, so I have 20/20 vision, and as a self-proclaimed expert, I declare you a ten out of ten. Happy?”

You laughed softly. “Yes, Hyuck. Thank you.”

Donghyuck permitted himself a small smile, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Silly prince. Now can you go to sleep?”

You nodded. “Night, pretty boy.”

The answer came almost immediately. “Goodnight, my prince.”

IT ALL WENT DOWNHILL FROM THERE.

Ever since the realisation that maybe, just maybe, you liked Donghyuck (just a little bit), everything had gone downhill. You couldn’t do a single thing without Donghyuck at the back of your mind. If you so much as walked beside him, your mind went crazy with thoughts of him brushing his arm against yours intentionally, how close you could walk next to him without being too obvious about it, how beautiful he was when he laughed or made a joke that no one laughed at.

Your mind just couldn’t shut up. Yes, you understood that you had a silly little crush. Yes, you knew that Donghyuck was gorgeous. Yes, you were one of his best friends and therefore, saw him relatively often. No, that did not mean you needed him to occupy every. Single. One of your thoughts. You were perfectly fine without the presence of Donghyuck in every crevice of your mind, thank you very much.

However, your subconscious disagreed, and continued to torture you with thoughts of Donghyuck kissing you or brushing your hair out of your face. It was too much for you to take, especially when Donghyuck seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you.

At present, his face was slightly flushed, and sweat was beading on his forehead. He was clearly tipsy, swaying on his feet as he leaned on Renjun’s shoulder. He took Renjun’s chin and turned it towards himself, as if to kiss him.

Renjun tore himself away from Donghyuck so quickly that Donghyuck should have gotten whiplash, disgust evident on his face. “Argh, don’t kiss me!”

You felt the green monster slowly loosen its grip on your throat, slinking back in shame as you breathed in heavily. What was wrong with you? There was no reason for you to be jealous. Donghyuck was just like that, he flirted with anything that had a pulse and couldn’t confront his feelings. You knew it, and yet you didn’t want to accept it.

Stinging from his rejection and very much drunk after all the alcohol he had drunk, Donghyuck was even whinier than usual, if that was possible.

He leaned on Mark’s shoulder, and soon it became a game of “Pass the Donghyuck”, and he was shifted from one shoulder to another until he had made one round from Mark’s shoulder all the way to yours.

The weight of his head on your shoulder was refreshing. It felt like you could finally think, and the fog of your crush had lifted just enough for you to realise that the Lee Donghyuck was drunk and clinging onto your shoulder.

His glasses were slipping down his nose, and you wondered why he had even worn it in the first place. You reached up to take it off, but he shook his head vigorously. “Can’t… see without ‘em. Everything’s so… blurry.” He heaved and you stepped back quickly, afraid that he would puke all over you, but he only stumbled into your arms.

You caught him, breathing out a sigh of relief. The club was terrifyingly loud and you wanted to go home.

Empty bottles littered the counter, shot glasses teetering dangerously close to the edge. You pushed the glasses in and one toppled, and you clumsily reached out to catch it before it fell, but missed. Luckily, Mark was still sober and his reflexes were fast enough for him to catch it when it rolled off the table, falling straight into his hand like that had been its trajectory all along.

Your limbs felt as heavy as lead, a feeling not unfamiliar to you. It always felt like that after a long, tiring day of dance lessons. But the feeling was somehow… different. It felt like you had lost control of yourself and it scared you. You didn’t want to lose consciousness.

“Mark,” you called, too soft for him to hear. You were tired and it took almost all of your energy to call him again, louder that time. “Mark!”

Mark turned and his smile dropped when he saw Donghyuck and you, so drunk you might’ve passed out if it weren’t for the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You felt like you were in a limbo, halfway between wide awake and unconscious, too drunk to comprehend anything but also too excited to go to sleep.

“I want to leave this place. And I think- I think Hyuck should go home too.”

Mark looked around anxiously for the others. Jaemin was sitting in a corner of the room, clearly feeling out of place. The club was too loud for both of you. At least Chenle, Jisung, Renjun and Jeno looked like they were having fun dancing, but you remembered Renjun had looked more at home when Donghyuck was leading the conversation.

Everyone wanted to go home. You were a lightweight, and Donghyuck had simply let loose and gone crazy on the vodka, but it was enough. You needed to leave, and you recognised that. It was past 3am on a Sunday night, and you all had to go home before your classes the next morning.

Mark went to collect the rest of the dreamies, and when Chenle tried to make a fuss, Mark whispered something in his ear that pleased him greatly. Without further protest, soon all the dreamies were gathered where you were and you could leave.

You all had trouble getting out of the bar, let alone getting into the car. You, Jisung and Donghyuck were stumbling like drunkards, relying on the support of your friends to get you to walk. Jaemin held on to you tightly, gripping your elbow so hard you thought it might leave marks.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, annoyed that you had drunk so much even though your alcohol tolerance was low. It was like you were children again, and you were playing video games late into the night even though you had school the day after.

Yet, even after all those years of you making stupid decisions, he was still there for you when you came crashing down. Maybe you really were his favourite cousin, after all.

The designated drivers, Jaemin and Mark, brought three passengers into each car. You and Donghyuck were meant to be split up so there were more eyes to look after each of you, but Donghyuck grabbed hold of your wrist and refused to let go.

Jaemin let out a sigh. “Jeno, you go with them.” He was the third least intoxicated and among the strongest in your group, so he had a higher chance of being able to handle the two of you.

Jeno guided you into the seat, where you collapsed, finally making yourself comfortable. You removed your coat and draped it on the head rest, while Donghyuck snuggled into your lap.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Donghyuck nodded. “Has anyone told you you’re really pretty?”

You laughed. “Yeah, your mum.” Donghyuck cringed, and you quickly clarified. “Donghyuck, your mother literally told me I look like a prince. I’m sorry, but you can’t top that, though I’ll give you extra points because you look cute when you’re drunk.”

Donghyuck let out a little giggle and snuggled into you. You’d forgotten how clingy he got when he was drunk. “Life is so tiring,” he told you matter-of-factly.

“I agree.” Your eyes shut and you leaned your head back, the muscles in your back relaxing.

“Shh,” Donghyuck stopped you, pressing one finger to your cheek. You assumed that he had meant to silence you and placed it against your lips, but he was so drunk that his hand-eye coordination wasn’t the best. “Don’t interrupt.”

You snorted, amused.

“As I was saying, life is really tiring. It’s tiring being this handsome, it’s tiring having a crush on my roommate and not being able to confess it because I’m a coward, it’s tiring having to work instead of staying home, and it’s tiring pretending that I’m perfect.”

“What was the middle one?”

“It’s tiring having to work?”

You raised your eyebrows sceptically. That wasn’t what you had meant, and he knew it. Sure, you were drunk and could have imagined it, but you were pretty sure Donghyuck had just confessed that he liked one of you. And since he only had three roommates, you had a 33.3% chance of being the one he liked.

The odds were good, but not entirely in your favour.

Donghyuck’s forehead was sweaty and his hair was sticking to his face, so you gently brushed it out of his face, and he gripped your wrist so tightly you questioned if he was indeed drunk. If he were sober surely he wouldn’t have had that strength, but he definitely had the guts when he was tipsy.

He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart shattered inside.

Honestly, you would have been happy if he was sober. Perhaps then everything would be truthful and genuine and not the manifestation of sober thoughts, but a conscious choice. Because drunk decisions did not mean that Donghyuck would have done the same if he had been sober. You knew that he probably would not have, and that hurt deeper than you would care to admit.

Donghyuck was so oblivious to the effect he had on you. He could be making you go crazy inwardly and not care, but the moment he was drunk, he had the audacity to flirt with you. He had no care for your feelings at all, and you hated it.

If only he would really, truly love you, consciously and deliberately so you would never have to reassure your insecure thoughts. And that was something that you hated Donghyuck for, that he never wanted to commit and instead flirted with everyone like that would make him feel any better.

It wouldn’t, and you knew that all too well.

—

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

You, as well as the others, were eagerly chanting as Donghyuck looked sceptically at the bottle. The table surface was rough, and the sound of the bottle spinning grated on his nerves, but he wanted to be a good sport.

He spun the bottle, biting his lip as he rolled his eyes back, and they landed on you. You could have sworn he winked, but you had no time to process it, not when your friends were cheering so loudly.

Shit. It had landed on you.

Donghyuck didn’t hesitate, leaning in towards you and tipping your chin up. He saw the reluctance in your eyes and stopped, resting on his heels.

“Are you okay with this? If you don't want to, we can stop it now,” he said, loud enough for your ears alone.

You gulped. “I'm… I think I'm fine.”

He grinned. “Then kiss me back, okay?”

And his lips were on yours. He tasted like cherry vodka and sprite and cinnamon all at once, and you didn’t know you had it in you to kiss him back.

When he pulled away, you missed it almost immediately.

“This isn’t any fun. Let’s play truth or dare instead,” he said abruptly, averting his eyes. Unlike when he had kissed Renjun, he didn't wipe his lips, and it took all of your self-control not to read into that.

You made yourself comfortable and reached for another glass but Jisung tapped your hand twice. “I think you’ve had quite enough.”

The thing was, you couldn't help it. If you didn’t have enough alcohol in your system, you would have the sobriety to overthink every single little thing Donghyuck did, and you needed a drink (or several) to remain sane.

Jisung gave you a long, hard look and an accompanying sigh when you brushed him off, but he remained silent when you poured yourself another glass and downed it, the clear liquid burning its way down your throat and lighting you up from within.

“Truth,” you heard Donghyuck say.

“Do you love him? Not just infatuation-wise. Do you see yourself in a relationship with him?” Mark.

“Dare.”

“Answer the question.”

“I-” The hesitation was enough for you to be interested in the conversation again. If Donghyuck had given his usual lighthearted response, you would have thought nothing of it. But for him to stop and actually seriously think about it… whoever he liked must have really made an impact on him.

You reached for the bottle again. This time, it was Jeno who stopped you. “It’s quite enough. Your cheeks are red, and you can barely keep your eyes open. I don't want you to get liver failure from one night out, or we’ll never be allowed to bring you out again.”

You pouted your lips at him, and Donghyuck spoke again. “Yes, I think I do.”

It was a pity that you had forgotten the question by then. It was also a pity that your eyes were barely open, for if they were open you would have seen Donghyuck’s fond look and how his eyes crinkled up when he looked at you.

—

When Mark turned around to get you out of the car, he found both you and Donghyuck asleep.

YOU JUST COULDN'T ESCAPE HIM. It wasn’t until you were consciously avoiding Donghyuck that you realised how often you saw him. Your dance classes never collided, but many of your lectures did. Sometimes, you would see him entering the lecture theatre and would studiously look away so he wouldn’t notice you were there. Not that it worked much, but on some days, he was a little more aware and would walk past you to sit with his other friends.

You were in the library that afternoon, headphones in, Mark and Renjun sitting opposite you. Everyone was quietly doing their own work, and whenever you looked up from your work, it was only to ask Mark a question.

Renjun was actually done with his own work, because unlike Mark, who always volunteered to take on extra tasks, he had a perfectly reasonable workload. And unlike Donghyuck, who signed up for social events even when his pre-reading was piling up, he was disciplined and knew how to prioritise. And unlike you, he actually understood everything that the professor was saying.

So, really he was only there to keep you two accountable and to make sure you didn’t get off track. He was reading a book, and you guessed that the unfamiliar characters on the cover were in Mandarin.

It was peaceful, at least until Donghyuck came.

“I brought you a ham-and-cheese muffin,” he said, setting the paper bag down as he slid into the seat beside you. “I got you boba too, but the librarian didn’t like that, so I left it in my bag outside. I had to convince her that I wouldn’t eat the muffin inside, but I’ll let you know that it’s still warm, so you can make your own decision.”

He winked at you, and your heart fluttered. Be still, my heart.

You bit into the muffin, and the flavours exploded in your mouth as you realised how long it had been since your last meal. You hadn’t had proper lunch that day, just brunch at 10, so 6 hours had passed since you last ate. You had forgotten this whilst studying, but your stomach gladly welcomed the presence of more food.

“You haven’t eaten since brunch, have you?” Donghyuck asked, as he saw you stuffing the rest of the muffin into your mouth. You shook your head guiltily, trying to catch the crumbs falling from your mouth.

“Chew slowly, don't choke. I’ve still got boba for you later, remember.”

And your heart warmed despite your vow not to let Donghyuck charm his way into your heart anymore. “Thanks,” you mumbled, voice muffled by the food in your mouth. You swallowed it quickly, but by then he had already turned away from you.

—

“Wait, don't you have a class in five minutes?”

It took you a couple of seconds to process that Mark was talking to you. You looked down at your watch and found that he was indeed correct. “Shit, yeah. Hyuck, isn’t that the class we both take?”

Donghyuck’s neck jerked up so quickly you feared he might break it. “You're right! We’ve gotta run for it. See you later, Mark, Renjun.”

He was out of his chair before you could say anything else, pulling you away as you ran outside. Donghyuck slung his bag over his shoulder, and you ran out into the cold with Donghyuck by your side. It was freezing cold and your lips turned numb almost immediately. The snow was heavier than you had realised, and you sorely missed the comfort of the heated library.

You were huddled closely to Donghyuck, pressed up against him as your legs moved in tandem, generating heat that you were grateful for.

“Wait,” you said, grabbing Donghyuck’s hand to stop him just before you entered the building. “Look!”

Like a child, you stuck out your tongue and waited for a snowflake to fall onto your tongue, shivering slightly when it did and melted almost immediately. You looked at Donghyuck, embarrassment warring with the need for attention, and were met with Donghyuck’s chuckle.

“Cute.”

It was one word, but it felt full of fraught emotions and possibilities.

—

You sighed in relief, collapsing in a tired heap on the chair, your cheeks and the tips of your ears still red from the cold atmosphere outside. Donghyuck noticed, of course. He reached out and cupped your ear in his hands, his palms radiating heat that made your ears feel less like frozen popsicles and more like a part of your body again.

“If I kissed you, your cheeks would definitely warm up too,” he said suddenly. You would have protested, but you weren’t fast enough to prevent him from placing a kiss on your cheek, which immediately warmed up in embarrassment.

“See! It worked.” You didn’t admit it aloud, but you agreed.

Donghyuck’s kiss was a reminder of what you had been thinking when you first arrived in Seoul. You had thought then that Seoul was nowhere as romantic as London, because you couldn't share an umbrella with your love interest in the rain and get soaked together.

But when you looked down at your coat, slightly wet with melted snow, and pressed a hand to your cheek where Donghyuck had kissed it, you realised that maybe Seoul was more romantic than you had given it credit for being. You had been too quick to judge and were lucky that you hadn’t said it aloud, or you would be eating your words.

—

You were starting to get bored and your fingers hurt from typing. At least you understood most of what was happening, but you were still starting to tire of the professor’s voice. The next time you would be doing anything interesting was in a month, and you didn’t understand how you were expected to pay attention until then.

You were really only paying attention so that you didn’t fail when you had to write your thesis next week, but even you needed a break.

Donghyuck must have read your mind because he pushed a reusable covered cup over to your table, pointing at the attached note. Through the clear container you could see the boba at the bottom, brown sugar coating the sides. You poked the straw through the hole in the cap and gratefully drank it, happy for the explosive taste of sugar in your mouth that distracted you from the boredom of the class.

A note fluttered onto your table and you picked it up in curiosity. “are you a prince (왕자; wangja)? because i want ya.”

That was when your heart stopped. Donghyuck didn’t speak English well, and you knew that. You had spent enough time with him to see how he struggled to understand you when you spoke with an English accent instead of a Korean one. Yet, he had written you a pickup line in Konglish.

What does that mean? He had to have asked Mark about it. He must have premeditated it because there was no way he had spontaneously come up with that while waiting in line for your drink.

What does that mean? The mixed signals he was sending you were about to drive you crazy. You were overthinking every detail of it, and you hated it. Why had he put in the effort to write something you were familiar with? A line you would understand and be able to laugh at? Was he hinting at something more, or did he just do that to everyone?

What does that mean? The question was running laps in your mind, as it had been since Donghyuck had kissed you at the bar. You had both been flat-out drunk, so you wouldn’t have been surprised, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

Maybe that was the problem; the lack of communication. It was hindering the relationship from progressing and causing your heart extreme emotional pain. Perhaps it was time for you to do something about it.

DONGHYUCK WAS THE WORST TEASE YOU KNEW. He exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, hair still dripping wet as he ran a hand absently through it, wiping his hand on the towel.

Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure you would need someone to call an ambulance if you didn’t stop hyperventilating.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) for you, Donghyuck seemed to notice.

He walked up to you in one fluid motion, wrapping one arm around your waist as his other hand tipped your chin up. His cockiness was getting to you, and you simply couldn’t stand him anymore. You threaded your fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer to you as you kissed him.

The hand around your waist slackened in shock, and his eyes were still wide with surprise at your boldness. But you didn’t care, and when you didn’t pull away, he gladly closed his eyes and deepened the kiss.

Your clothes were wet, and so was the floor, but you couldn’t care less because you were kissing the Lee Donghyuck, prettiest boy in the universe. The one who spent a week trying to get your beverage order right and clung tightly to you when he was drunk, the one who took every opportunity to flirt with you but softened when you were scared or tired.

He called you a prince just to rile you up and pecked your cheek when you were within range, and you loved him more than just a little bit.

“You like me?” Donghyuck asked in disbelief when you pulled away.

You traced your hand over his jaw and pressed your forehead to his. “I hate pineapple on pizza, but I’d eat Hawaiian pizza if you asked me to because you’re Donghyuck, and I’d do anything for you. I would eat your olives if you gave them to me, always. I don’t know how you haven’t noticed yet, but yes, I like you, Lee Donghyuck.”

He was rendered speechless, which were two words you would never have thought would be used to describe Donghyuck. The chatty boy had fallen silent, and you found that you missed the sound of his voice.

“I like you too, L/n Y/n. I would run with you in the snow if it meant five more minutes with you. Even if my fingertips were freezing off, I would watch you catch snowflakes on your tongue and wish you loved me back. I would kiss you while drunk a million times if it meant there was the smallest of chances that you would love me back.”

The sound of the door opening didn’t stop you, but it did stop Renjun. He hovered in the corridor as he looked between you and a towel-clad Donghyuck, debating whether to tell him to stop dripping all over the floor or leave you two alone. After a few seconds, he decided to take refuge in Jaemin’s room, leaving you two to your own devices.

Donghyuck would have stayed and held you in his arms forever if you hadn’t tapped his shoulder and asked him to get changed.

“Why feign decency at this point?” He had quipped, and you had grabbed hold of his shoulders, turning him around to face the bathroom and shoving him towards it. He had stumbled, catching himself just in time to flip you off, and you settled on the floor, laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom.

—

When he reappeared, he was so eager to see you again that he slammed into you, causing you to topple onto the bed, Donghyuck’s hands on either side of your head being the only thing preventing him from falling onto you,

You booped him on the nose and burst out into laughter at his confused face. Your laughter rang true and clear in the room, and if Donghyuck had a photographic memory, he would have replayed it in his head a million times. His eyes were filled with delight and love as he watched you slowly lowering himself next to you while you rolled over to face him.

His hand traced lazy circles down your arms, from your biceps down to your elbows, where he began drawing hearts around the scattered scars that covered your elbows.

“Tell me all about your scars.”

You had gotten that one from falling down as a kid, eager legs slipping out from under you when you forgot that you had rollerblades on, landing on your elbows and knees. Sure, you had worn elbow guards, but they had been too loose for you back then, the hand-me-downs slipping downwards as your elbows scraped against the pavement.

You remembered staring at your arms in wonder, the scraped skin stinging but not hurting enough for you to cry. You had winced at the dirt and blood covering the wound, dusting yourself off as you stood up. You had cried when your mother cleaned the wound with saline, wincing sharply and then jerking your arms away while she held tight, cleansing the wound, until you realised she was only trying to help you.

Perhaps that was what love was like. Sometimes, you didn’t realise it was for your benefit until someone else guided you to it, and you ignored what was staring right at you until it waved its hand.

Donghyuck listened. He didn’t speak, and the silence was oddly inviting. The words spilled out of your mouth like a torrent, not a second of hesitation keeping you from being vulnerable with him.

It was the same for Donghyuck.

You heard of the times he felt overshadowed and overlooked, when his older brother knew how to do everything and his younger sister followed in his footsteps. He constantly compared himself to them and others around him, never feeling like he was enough.

You heard of the times with Mark, his first friend, who used to hate him. Donghyuck had reached out multiple times to Mark, and each time he was met with coldness and annoyance. He had only ever heard Mark give monosyllabic responses and had been surprised when he had first heard Mark say a full sentence.

Yet, Donghyuck could grow on anyone. And soon, they graduated high school together, headed to the same university where they would pursue their interests while their friendship only grew stronger.

You heard about Donghyuck’s experience at parties, waking up in somebody else’s bed, hammered with a pounding headache and utterly lost. He told you how he had sorely regretted all the drinks, hurriedly getting out of bed to get as far away from the memories as possible.

Once, he was almost taken advantage of. He had woken up in a bed with a girl by his side, ill-clad with her gangly limbs all over his body. He should have at least known her name, but he didn’t even recognise her face. When he tried to peel her off of him and get dressed, she forced herself on him, and it had taken all of his drunken strength to get away.

He didn’t need to be drunk to tell you stories, because he could consciously decide to be open with you, even while sober. You didn’t either, but you were glad that you no longer needed alcohol to stop you from falling head over heels for Lee Donghyuck.

After all, he was there to stay.

RENJUN'S HUSHED WHISPERS SOUNDED URGENT even to you, causing you to open your eyes even when you wanted to seal them shut and fall back asleep.

“Good morning,” you cooed, placing kisses on each of Donghyuck’s moles. He blinked his eyes open sleepily and stared at you through half-closed eyelids before shutting them again and snuggling in closer to you.

“It’s too fucking early to be awake, go back to sleep.” Donghyuck said as he slid his cold fingers under your shirt, wrapping them around your torso as he hummed to himself. “You’re so warm…”

You shivered at his touch, jerking back in shock. Donghyuck whined softly and continued nuzzling his head against you, and you relented, moving in closer towards him while he smiled against your neck.

You caught snippets of Renjun’s conversation with Mark, hearing words like “half-naked”, “still dripping”, and “couldn’t even come in to sleep”. It didn’t take a genius to guess that they were talking about you, and the unabashed excitement on Mark’s face confirmed it for you.

You pried Donghyuck’s fingers from your skin, pushing his head away while he murmured in protest, flinging the covers off of you.

“Argh!”

“Sorry, Hyuckie.” You quickly grabbed the blanket and tucked Donghyuck back in, and he frowned at the absence of your heat, turning away from you sulkily and curling up into a ball. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out of his face, gravitating towards Renjun’s conversation as it got clearer and easier to understand.

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, and Renjun almost leapt from his chair in shock. His mouth was comically open, and his eyes were wide in surprise.

“When did you wake up?”

“Just,” you assured him, taking your seat and resting your head in your hands. “So, what about me?”

“We made a bet,” Mark said, a little too quick to throw Renjun under the bus. “We wanted to guess who would make the first move. I said Donghyuck would because of his personality, but Renjun said he was too much of a coward to really do anything about it.”

“Technically, you’re both right. Hyuck did make the first move, but I kissed him first, so I think I deserve some of that credit too.”

Renjun’s head bobbed up and down so quickly you were afraid his neck might break off. “Y/n’s right. Since he kissed Donghyuck first, you owe me. 10,000 won, remember?”

Mark’s mouth opened and closed as he stared at you, flabbergasted, before he finally gave up on trying to form words and reached into his pocket instead.

As Renjun counted the money, Mark fixed you with a hard stare. “If I’m broke, you’re paying for the next meal.”

“Deal."

—

Donghyuck left the house wrapped up in thoughts of your mouth on his. He couldn’t believe that someone like you would like someone like him. It had, quite literally, never occurred to him that you might like him back.

From the first time he had set eyes on you that winter evening, seeing you next to Jaemin and the resemblance in both of your eyes and hearing your English-accented voice for the first time, he had loved you more than he should have.

He grew to like all of you, the parts of you that drank Nesquik (like a little kid) when you were tired, that craved boba but held back from buying it because it was “unhealthy”, the parts of you that hated pineapple on pizza and thought he was an idiot. He loved when you were scared of the most trivial things, only to do risky shit when you thought no one was looking.

Most importantly, he loved the way you smiled with all your heart, your mouth open wide and your lips stretched wider than he thought was physically possible. Joy was written in the crease of your smile and the folds of your skin, and he loved every part of you.

He loved you so much, in fact, that when he reached into his pocket to send you a text to tell you he missed you, he realised that he had forgotten his phone amidst the residual shock he had woken up in that morning.

When he heard his name, he whirled around at the familiar voice and saw his saviour running toward him with a Tupperware in one hand and his phone in the other, hair sticking up in all different directions, still wearing pyjama pants.

“Y/n,” he breathed out. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

You ran your hand through your hair in response, shoving his phone into his hand.

“I… saw that Mark had cut some fruits for Chenle, and I know that you’re bad at taking care of yourself so… I brought it for you. Don’t worry, I’ll cut more for Chenle later, he’ll just have to deal with not having them in his favourite container.” The words came out all in a rush, between pants and wheezes. Running clearly wasn’t your speciality.

“I wasn’t worried,” Donghyuck said. “And thank you.”

“Someone’s got to love you right, even if that means reminding you that your body requires nutrients to survive,” you muttered, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Is that so?” You nodded sagely, and he laughed, and somewhere in your mind, you managed to conjure up the word pretty.

DONGHYUCK WAS SO COCKY. You had always known it, but seeing him leaning languidly against the opening to the small photo booth, curly hair falling into his eyes, peering through his lashes as he watched your every movement, you were reminded of it.

Each of the eight of you were clutching your graduation hats, Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun and Jisung hovering outside the photo booth while they waited for you to browse through the frames.

Everyone was dressed in their graduation gowns, having rushed to take a picture at the nearby mall the second you had all received your diplomas. Chenle had insisted that four-cut photos were a tradition, and you didn’t want to miss out on the chance to take more photos.

After taking the goofiest photos ever (Jaemin had had lots of fun posing, and you had a bruise on your hip from falling into the “door” frame), the gang decided to let you and Chenle pick a frame and print it out.

“Quickly,” Jaemin’s voice called. “Y/n, what exactly are you doing? It doesn’t take that long to click an option!”

Mark left you and Chenle to choose, going outside the photo booth to pacify Jaemin.

Finally, you and Chenle managed to agree on an option that both of you liked, and the machine began whirring as it spat out the eight copies. You snatched them from Chenle, whistling as you exited the photo booth, waving the photos triumphantly at the rest.

“Done!”

All of a sudden, Donghyuck started cooing, “Aww, you want to kiss me so bad.” Before you knew what he was talking about, he tiptoed to reach your lips and gave you a quick peck.

“What?” The realisation dawned on you a moment later, remembering how you had puckered your lips while whistling. Donghyuck, ever the opportunist, had obviously taken the chance to kiss you again. “Hyuck, you kissed me. I don’t think I’m the desperate one here.”

Donghyuck would have responded if Renjun and Chenle’s hands hadn’t appeared out of nowhere, shoving you into the photo booth. The last thing you saw before they drew the curtains shut was Jaemin with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at you.

“Guess we’re stuck together, then.” Donghyuck didn’t seem thrown off in the least, quietly clicking through the options before he settled on one. The timer beeped, and you followed Donghyuck’s lead to make a heart.

You posed a total of three times before Donghyuck ran out of ideas, and he stared at you as the countdown grew louder. Three, two, one…

“Kiss me back, Hyuckie,” you murmured as you tilted Donghyuck’s chin up to meet yours. The light flashed, and you reluctantly pulled away to check the results. The pictures turned out adorable, and you slipped it into your wallet and grinned at Donghyuck.

“You stole my line!”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Well, you were wrong about the perilla debate, so I think it evens out.”

“What do you mean? We’re together now, aren’t we? Therefore, it must have been because I separated the perilla leaves for you that one time, which makes my stand the correct one.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway because neither of us were in a relationship at the time,” you reminded him. Renjun and Jeno heard only the tail-end of your conversation as you exited the confined space, and they sighed tiredly.

Seeing their reactions, you couldn’t help but laugh. You loved Lee Donghyuck so fucking much.

- fin -

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

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softly-sirius · 1 year ago

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Fred's Lucky Tie

Or, You give Fred a gift he cherishes for the rest of his life (1.7k)

Warnings: The reader is briefly mentioned to share a dorm with a girl. The reader wears a dress. No actual pronouns or genders mentioned

Your hands run up and down all the fabrics on display. Each was soft, but your fingers lingered on the dark purple silk. It felt cold to the touch and your pointer glided down the sample.

It was the perfect shade, perfect because it was Fred’s favourite colour. You had come shopping with your friend in hopes of finding some inspiration for your dress. Fred was always the better dresser of the two of you, even though his lack of funds didn’t often allow him to dress how he wished.

He already had his robes, his mum had lovingly picked them out for him and after a few magical adjustments, he managed to get them to his liking. Only it didn’t stop you from asking the shop assistant for some of the fabric, it was pricey, and it cost almost an entire term's worth of Hogsmeade money, but you knew it would be worth it.

Just like how spending the whole week trying to transform your dress into something suitable was going to be worth it.

You already had more knowledge than most about spells to dye things, mostly hair, but a little about clothes too. It only took a day of tweaking with Lee’s help to get the colour exactly right. Then it was the exhausting back and forth of trying to get each measurement perfect, trying the dress on, taking it off again, making the adjustments and then checking to make sure you had done it right. You dared not try the spells while the dress was on your body after seeing the marks left on Hannah Abbot's shoulders when she tried to tighten her spaghetti straps one hot day at the lake.

Compared to your dress, making Fred's tie was easy. You decided to make it by hand, just to make it feel extra special. You knew how much Fred loved the sweaters his mum made, even if he did think they were a little dorky. He still wore them all the time, far more often than you had seen Ron or Percy. Seeing him cherish those sweaters made you love him even more and it made you want to try your hand at some kind of craft. So far a tie has been the least daunting option.

There was a girl in your dorm who loved to sew, she had a sewing machine she claimed was passed down in her family from generation to generation. It had been bewitched to never make a crooked stitch. When you asked her for help she seemed ecstatic, even telling you all about old ball traditions, while you hand-stitched with her supervision.

It was the day before the ball and you were so nervous, not because you thought Fred would think you anything less than stunning in your dress. You were sure you could walk down wearing anything, a sack even and he would tell you how beautiful you were. You were nervously trying to make sure that your tie was perfect, ironing it over and over.

You were both going to try on your outfits for the ball together in his dorm. Before you could even come up with an excuse for your suggestion Fred was beaming. “Just can’t wait until tomorrow, huh love?”

You rolled your eyes at him, shoving him in the back as you sat on his bed. It wasn’t like a fashion show was unheard of between the two of you. If one of you got something new for a special occasion you would always do this. One of you would splay out on Fred's bed while the other modelled the new outfit.

It had started when Fred and George had first joined the quidditch team, they had both been ecstatic and as the best friend you were, you asked to see them in their uniforms, cheering them as they both emerged, uncharacteristically shy in their second-hand uniforms. Until you had begun narrating on the sidelines.

“And here come Gryffndor's newest beaters, their shirts can barely even contain their bulging muscles. The Slytherin team must be shitting themselves.“

Somehow it had become a tradition, even more so when you and Fred started dating. Fred hurried off to the bathroom, normally he would change in front of you, wiggling his brows and laughing as you would whistle or slap his ass. During a fashion show though, he never wanted to spoil the surprise.

While he was gone you made quick work of stripping off and getting into your dress. He always took forever, he blamed his long limbs, so you knew you would have time. You grabbed the gift box you had put the tie into.

You lifted the lid slightly, careful not to disturb the bow on top, wanting to check it was still perfect. You almost dropped it when Fred barged out of the bathroom, doing his best model pose.

The two of you stared open-mouthed at the other. Fred visibly gulped as his eyes raked you up and down, dressed in his favourite colour. You weren’t much better, eyes widening at the way his pants clung to his thighs.

“You look-”

“Merlin-”

You both erupted in giggles, a little taken aback by the cheesiness of it all. You both move instinctively forward, Pulled to the other as your hands reach out, your hand rests on Fred’s chest, playing with his lapel while his hands cup your face.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, mind whirling wondering how he managed to be so lucky. You had been dating for so long now, but still, you managed to give him butterflies. He could never tire of your smile, your laugh, your theatrics.

Fred had never understood how love could make people so foolish. As a first-year, he would laugh at the couples kissing in the hallways and cringe whenever his dad would give his mum a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Now he would look at his mum and dad and hope that you and he would be like that one day.

He enjoyed doing everything with you. He loved pranking with you, hearing your laugh echo through the corridors as you would run hand in hand. He loved the times you would spend relaxing, sneaking into the prefect bathroom because you insisted he needed it after quidditch. He loved the feeling of you raking your fingers through his hair, to help him de-stress or when you would do it up in ridiculous styles to cheer him up. He loves listening to you talk about the things you enjoy, even when he knows nothing about them, how animated you get until you are completely lost in your world. Hell, he even enjoys arguing with you, the cute furrow you get in your brow and the pout you give him when you just need him to give in. He loves feeling you melt into him when he wraps his arms around you, even when you’re still mad at him, because you love him too.

“I don’t think words can do your beauty justice,” Fred grinned. You duck your head bashfully, but Fred's finger hooks under your chin, bringing your gaze back up to him.

You kiss him, lips sickly sweet as they peck his over and over again until you finally will yourself away. “You look so handsome, Freddie” You sigh, voice nothing but sincere. “But…” You trail off.

Still resting in your hand that isn’t pressed against his chest is a gift box. Too preoccupied with you to pay attention to anything else, it’s only now he finally notices it as you hold it out between you.

“You got me something?” He hesitates and you can see it in his eyes.

Gifts, except on birthdays and Christmas, can be a sore spot for him. He doesn’t have the money to buy you things, even if he wants to. It’s difficult to accept things when he doesn’t feel he has anything to offer you in return. Only he has everything you’d ever need, love, affection, and an endless supply of humour.

There's only one exception to the unspoken rule of no gifts.

“I made you something” You correct, smiling when he finally takes the gift from you. He opens his mouth, but you cut him off because you already know what he’s going to say. “I’m not expecting anything back, it’s more a gift for me than anything, I wanted us to match.”

“Oh yeah?” Suddenly all his hesitancy is gone and he’s ripping the box open like a kid on Christmas morning.

When he holds it in his hand and feels the fabric, he looks from his tie to your dress. The colours perfectly matched. “This is…you made this?”

“Yeah, I..” You feel a little bashful as he studies your gift, taking in every little detail as he turns it back and forth. You scratch the back of your neck “ I saw the fabric in Hogsmeade and I thought of you,”

His eyes catch on a homemade label with a red heart and your initials embroidered onto the lining on the back. His thumb rubs over it and when he finally tears his gaze away from the tie and looks at you instead your chest leaps at the redness of his eyes.

You worry you’ve done something wrong, that maybe the label came across as possessive instead of as a symbol of all the love you sewed the tie with. He diminishes your worries when he looks you into a bone-crushing hug and he’s gushing into your shoulder about how much he adores it.

You end up tying his tie for him, both of you internally relishing in the domesticity of it all. You kiss him all sweet once his tie is on properly. Both of you daydreaming about your lives when you finish Hogwarts.

Fred uses any chance he gets during the ball to tell everyone that his girl made his tie for him. He boasts about how good it looks, along with how good you look and especially how great you look together.

It soon becomes his lucky tie, he wears it the first day the shop opens and any important day after. If the two of you are having an anniversary he makes sure to wear it. He even insists he wants to be buried in it. You make him more things, a scarf with Molly's assistance, a waistcoat which took months to perfect and even more ties to add to his collection.

He still never stops wearing the first you made him though, even when it looks a little worse for wear. He even wears it on your wedding day. Laughing as your hand tugs on it to bring him in for your first kiss as man and wife.

#fred weasely x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley drabble #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley fanfictiton

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justaticklishdeer · 6 months ago

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Different Ways to Tickle

Voodoo tickles! Word count: just under 2k TW/CW: intense in spots, teases (a lil intense)

Ler!Rosie, Lee!Alastor

Alastor gathered up needles, threads, and sheets of felt and other fabrics. He stuffed it into a small bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He could do the doll at the Emporium of his dearest friend, Rosie. He opens the door and walks in, sitting down at a table and beginning to sew the doll together. He adds minor and major details – clothing, small buttons, little stitchwork here and there. Rosie was busy with clients for the time being, so Alastor wasn’t too worried about bothering her.

Rosie notices him with a smile. ‘Hello, darling!’ she says cheerfully, sitting down with him. He smiled up at her, humming softly in agreement when she asked to assist him. Rosie helps in holding fabric for him. She quietly helps in the making of the doll, conversation passed between the two overlords. Alastor would occasionally shift or have Rosie hold in a certain place–careful not to nick either of them with the needle.

He finishes the stitchwork, admiring the voodoo doll he had made of himself. Shop was beginning to close up, and he quietly cleans up the mess from the dollmaking. He snaps his fingers, making the mess–except for his doll–vanish.

‘Simply a bit of boredom and creativity,’ he hums, scritching at the doll’s stomach, not expecting the awfully ticklish sensation transferred to his physical body. He jumps with surprise, nearly dropping the doll. She grins at him. “Alastor, dear..if you want–’

‘Nope, I-i don’t!’ Alastor stammers out, standing up with a grin. Anticipation flowing freely through his veins. His ears twitched and flicked as he smiled–well, genuinely. Rosie picked up the doll, examining it with an innocent look. ‘You know me, Alastor. Auntie Rosie can read you like a book. Despite you trying to hide it, I know what you want. You want me to tickle you, perhaps? Preferably through the doll is my guess if you had it oh so out in the open for me?’ she suggests, earning a squeak of surprise from the deer.

He nods shyly, and Rosie grins as she takes him by the hand. ‘Come along then, darling!’

She leads him to a guest room. ‘Lay down on the bed for me, alright?’ Rosie hums, waiting patiently as he hesitates before doing as told. He lays down as Rosie gives him gentle ear pets. He leans into it without realizing. She pulls away which earns a reluctant whine. ‘So, darling, would you like to know how this tickle session will go today?’

Alastor blinked helplessly. He knew she was good at verbally describing scenes, actions, and other things quite well. She never failed to have him a flustered mess of giggles and whines. Rosie grins down at him, knowing the helpless blinks were the only answer she would get.

‘Good, then. So, how shall we begin?’ Rosie asks, picking up the doll which made Alastor squirm. She chuckles and croons, ‘Aww, is someone a jumpy fawn today? I haven’t even done anything, dearie! You’re already flinching away from the touches. Anyhow, let’s think this session up.’

She pauses for a moment, just holding the doll. Rosie smiles down at her eldritch deer friend, continuing, ‘So first, we should start with those ribs of yours. Us cannibals have a tendency to go right for those, so I think we could start there for a nice appetizer. Next, we’d slide down those sides of yours, nice and slow–’ A whimper from Alastor. ‘--then down to that adorable tummy of yours! Scribbling my nice claws all over that tummy, without even touching you. The doll will be our target, yet the feeling shall transfer to your physical body. Then, we could tickle those pretty ears of yours, and watch you writhe while you beg me to stop. Those feathery soft ears will be flicking around, and my little tickle fawn simply won’t know how to handle himself, now will he?’ Rosie croons, her voice right next to his ear. He was squirming and whining on the bed. She hadn’t even started.

‘So, my dear. Are you ready?’ she asks, looking toward him with a loving gaze.

After not even a moment of hesitation, Alastor nods. A clear sign of consent. She grins, fingers hovering over where the ribs would be on the doll. Alastor let out an airy giggle filled with anxiety and anticipation. Rosie gently runs her fingers up and down the dolls ribs, making Alastor whine and arch his back, his hands going to his ribcage. As if that would help at all.

‘R-Rohohosie–Rohohosie!’

‘Yes, sweetheart?’ she asks with the most innocent of glances, swallowing up the way he was snickering madly and wriggling around, trying his hardest to comprehend the feeling of being tickled without…being physically tickled. It was an odd feeling, that was for sure. He could feel the tickles, but nothing was touching him.

The Radio Demon was snapped out of his wavering thoughts by a new sensation–Rosie had slid her nails down the doll’s side, making the deer jerk and giggle harder. ‘Oh, come on dear. You can laugh better than that! Turn that radio of yours up a few notches,’ she teases, continuing to tease at the doll’s sides. Alastor was curled up on the bed, giggling harder than he thought he could.

‘Good boy! Oh, such a good boy! Look at you, taking this new approach so well!’

‘Roahahasie! Don’t tehease mehe!’

‘Why not, lovely? You seem to enjoy it. Look at that tail wagging,’ she croons, leaning down to nibble affectionately on his ear, sending another ticklish jolt down his spine. Rosie grins as she pulls back, stopping the tickling for just a moment. ‘Are you ready for me to move on to your ticklish, adorable little tummy?” she hums, a nearly sadistic growl to her tone of voice. He blinks helplessly. A yes.

‘Good, then.’

She grabs a feather. ‘You okay with this?’ she asks, looking over at her friend who nods and whines in giggly anticipation.

She uses the ‘quill’ end of the feather to draw shapes on the doll’s tummy, adoring the noises that came from Alastor. He snorted, whined, begged, laughed, all to try to get her to stop. She slowly traces around the doll’s stomach, loving the way Alastor couldn't seem to comprehend the feelings.

He squirms and arches back as Rosie scratches on a particularly bad spot. ‘Ahahaha–R-Rohohsie! G-gehehentle! W-wahahait, no, thahahat might behehe wohohorse!’ She grins and gets very gentle, earning that wholesome array of squeaks and giggles she loved. Rosie reaches up on the doll to scratch between its sides and ribs, earning a fawnlike bleat. ‘Ahaha–! Rohohosie!’

She decided to move to a different spot, using her nails to slide up Alastor’s sides, underarms, his neck, and up to the feathery soft deer ears of his. Rosie gently traces up and down, earning wild snickers and squeaks. How could the most feared Overlord be so…adorable? It only took a few well placed scribbles or verbal teases and he’s a whining mess.

‘Mmm! Ohoho–!” he snorts, his ears flicking against the ticklish sensation. There was no ‘good’ way to describe it. Despite being poetic in his language and personality, there wasn’t any way to describe what feeling he was experiencing. Fear, apprehension, comfort, excitement, giddiness…too many. Everything at once? No, no, focus–

Alastor was jolted back to reality as the tickly sensation moved to his ribs again. He arched his back as Rosie tickled him through the doll, whining, “Rohohosie, oho gohod I cahahan’t–! I-I’ll d-dihie from–!”

‘From what, sweetie? Me tickling the absolute life out of you? I don’t even have to touch you, darling! It’s simply a doll and some verbal teases, and that has you a whiny mess, dear.’

Rosie chuckles darkly as she slips her fingers under the doll’s clothing, scratching gently at its stomach. The deer lurches and squeals, laughter going silent for a second or two. ‘Rohohosie! Rosie! Nonono Rosie pleasepleaseplehehease–!’

‘Shhh, little tickle baby. You can handle it. Auntie Rosie knows your limits, and this isn’t nearly close enough to your breaking point. My little ticklish fawn, you can handle it. C’mon, sweetheart. You got this,” she encourages gently, continuing to scritch at that one spot.

‘I-I’m nohohot soho sure about thahat, darlin’!’

‘"Tickle, tickle. Doesn't it just feel so good to giggle until you can't breathe? Oh, you must be loving every second of this, huh?"

Alastor gasps for breath as she drags the feather down his sides, up his ribs. All through the stupid doll he just had to make. Rosie grins, continuing the torturous dragging of the quill end up and down. She moves to the hooves on the doll, earning a whine. The cannibal picks up the feather and Alastor lets out a giggly whine. “Darlin, I haven’t even touched your hooves, sweetie!’ she teases, her breath right up against Alastor’s ear.

“I-I knowhow! But–th-the feeling-!’ Alastor gasps, his legs twitching. She was simply hovering her fingers above the doll’s hooves and his reaction was already becoming more frantic. She made a teasing tickle motion with her fingers and he whimpered. “R-Rohosie!’ he whined, trying to squirm away. Rosie has him lay back down.

‘Hush, my little ticklish buck. I’m not even touching the precious doll yet! Such a powerless tickle doll in my hands, aren’t you? Yes you are!’ Rosie teases. Alastor gasps and squirms, trying to pull his hooves back. As if that would do anything for the deer demon.

The cannibal overlord finally reaches her fingers to his hooves, dragging up and down as slowly as she could. He gasps and squirms, actual tears starting to flow from the pure torture of the situation. Rosie smiles sadistically, scritching the feather up against a fluffy spot on his hoof. He shrieks and jerks back from the sensation, attempting to curl up. Rosie tsks softly, pushing him back down onto the bed gently. He whines with anticipation. She takes her hand off the doll for a moment. He looks up at her, all blissed out from the tickles. A loopy smile, wagging tail, and the slightest bit of drool coming out of his mouth.

She smiles, reaching down to pet his ears. He smiles up at her, bleating happily like a fawn.

‘So, darling, are you ready for a little more…gentler…tickles?’

A happy nod.

Rosie grins, fingers going to his tummy on the doll. ‘Such a good tickle toy for me, yes you are! What a good tickle fawn…’

She scribbles fingers over his tummy, earning a radio screech of feedback, then a loud laugh as he arches his back. Rosie continues the relentless pace, sliding up and down his tummy, sides, ribs–really anywhere she knew he was comfortable with and ticklish. He squeals and turns on his side as she twirls a claw around his navel on the doll. Both hands go to protect his stomach from the intangible forces. She keeps going at his navel, slowly dragging her claws around it. He started to cry from pure ticklish bliss–and probably partly overstimulation–and silently laughed.

Rosie stops at the sound of his safeword being cried out between laughs and tears. She sets the doll aside, and stands up to go grab him water.

Alastor sits up, residual titters escaping still. He gladly accepts the water from his friend. ‘You did such a nice job for me, sweetheart.’

He nods, drinking the water slowly.

‘Th-thahank you…for that.’

‘Anytime, sweetheart.’

She lets him cuddle up to her, giving him gentle ear scritches to help him calm down. He sighs softly, comfying up to her quietly. Rosie watches as he drifts off, and as soon as she’s sure he’s asleep, she settles down as well.

One thought went through her head before she drifted off: Such a sweet Overlord.

#lee!alastor #ler!rosie #tword community #tickle content #sfw tickling community #tickle #platonic radiorose

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thefangirlfever · 9 months ago

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In this lifetime (a Miguel O'hara fanfiction)

Summary : When Miguel had jumped into an other dimension to replace his variant, he had not expected life to be so different…

Tags : fluff, romance, F/M, domestic fluff, kind of slow burn, suggestiveness (I tried to keep it PG-13), angst, mention of death, Miguel being a girl dad, soft Miguel O’hara, idiots in love, he fell first and hard, this is not a self-insert but it kinda is, maybe Miguel os a little OOC (he is just silly sometimes)

Notes : I sacrificed sleeping for this. The idea was too fresh in my mind and I didn’t want to let it go to waste. I’ve been inspired by all these amazing artists who have made horror concept arts about Miguel infiltrating this other dimension and those wondering about the possibility of Miguel’s partner in this dimension. I hope you enjoy my take on this.

English is not my first langage and I wrote this in the middle of the night. Therefore, I apologize in advance for my crimes against the English language.

Word count: 14 285

===============================================

Miguel looked at the shopping list with a highly focused look, way too focused for something as trivial as this but he was on a mission. And it may have been one of the most difficult he ever had to face : being a functioning father. Since he jumped into this new universe after the death of his variant and decided to settle in for the good of his daughter -or rather his variant’s daughter but Miguel tried not to think too much about this- he only had one thing in mind. Making this work.

Not a lot of things had worked in his past life, and it all started back in his childhood. That’s why he had made the promise to himself that he would not make the same mistake with Gabriella. He was no longer Miguel, the messy vigilante, tortured scientist who broke hearts here and there. No, he was a respectable father and this new attitude of him had to shine every time. He would just not allow himself to make any mistake. Even in the way he would follow a grocery list.

Miguel was a new man and that meant no more tantrums, no more stress and just an overflowing sense of calm and control. He had everything under control. He could easily balance the vigilante life with the domestic lifestyle. He would not be the first one doing this. Weren’t most mothers already doing the same ?

But it seemed that the world had already decided to test out his new resolutions. Just when he had stepped in front of his apartment door and passed the badge that allowed him to enter, the digital reader made a red light and a robotic voice said:

“Try again”.

Usually the calm of the robotic voice would have pushed him over, only making his frustration grow even more. But not now. He was a new man. He was ‘cool dad Miguel’ who never throws a tantrum, even when he is tired, locked out of his apartment with his arms filled with groceries on a hot Summer day. He took a deep breath and swiped his badge another time. Must be a small mistake.

“Try again.”

The echo of the mechanical voice definitely got on his nerves.

When he arrived in this dimension, he was amazed and relieved to see that it was not so different from his own. Most of the technologies, slang and even clothes were alike. He had no problem blending in. The only difference was that he couldn’t talk freely to Layla since his variant never had an AI assistant. He didn’t want people to ask questions that could lead them to suspect that he was not who he pretended to be.

Then why was this stupid machine not working?

An other deep breath, an other pass of the badge.

“Try again.”

Miguel groaned in annoyance. He was close to dump the bags on the ground and force the door at this point. He was already late on his schedule at this point of the day; Gabriela would be back from school any minute now and he still had to make dinner… Why wasn’t this working?

“Shock!”, he cursed under his breath before pressing the badge with more strength, trying his best to not let any grocery items fall from the bags. He knew that applying the badge like this would do nothing, since he already had that system in his own dimension. What he also knew was that after three trials, the box would send an alarm signal to the owner of the house.

He was about to curse an other less polite word when the door suddenly opened and to his surprise, the person in front of him was no one he knew. It was not Gabriela. It was a woman, a grown woman. She looked sleepy. Sleepy and pissed off.

Miguel eyed up and down the woman, from her bare feet and oversize shirt to the mess of her hair above a very tired face. He immediately recognized this look for he often had the same one. This was the look of someone who barely managed to sleep because of work, an underlying pressure and an unhealthy stress level. His sympathy went to the woman standing in front of him. Confusion ran through Miguel’s expression, along something else, something like curiosity. His eyes didn’t leave the silhouette of the woman in front of him and they did linger a bit too long on her bare legs to not look rude. A rush of heat ran through his cheeks, and he was pretty sure the summery weather had nothing to do with it, but those slender legs were more likely the cause of it.

He had to internally taunt himself: “Cool dad Miguel wouldn’t pry upon the legs of one of his neighbors this way.” No matter if said legs looked absolutely dashing with their tan, toned and almost endless. Just when his mind was starting to touch upon riskier territory, he lifted his eyes up and all trace of admiration disappeared. Not that the woman’s face was not the type he would usually admire, quite the opposite, but her gaze made it clear that any word from him would put him in great danger of getting his butt kicked.

“You think this is funny?”, the woman asked in a voice that left no room for any hesitation.

She had just spent one of the worst nights of her life, endlessly working under the worst conditions possible and just when she thought she could get some rest and take a nap, she had been woken up by the alarm signal coming from her door. The least person she was expecting to find on the other side of the door was her neighbor, Miguel O’hara. So far the single father had struck her more as the quiet type and not the type who would wake you up from a peaceful nap unannounced.

Right now the guy seemed like he wanted to disappear into the ground. His larger silhouette almost seemed crushed under the weight of her dark gaze and he only stuttered:

“I..I’m sorry...who...what are you doing here?”

At this point, she was suspecting that either the Sun had hit him too hard on his way here or that he was dumb, or maybe playing dumb. She replied with a sarcastic snicker:

“Oh, you mean, what am I doing here in my own apartment?”

Miguel’s brows rose in confusion, although the small grin of the woman only increased the warmth in his cheeks. He hoped she would put it onto the account of the really hot weather.

“Your apartment? There must be a misunderstanding, miss. This is my apartment…” His voice sounded less confident as he kept talking and the woman’s sarcastic grin only widened.

She pointed at the door at the end of the floor, the one facing a large window and replied:

“This is your apartment. Now, if you will excuse me, mister O’hara, I’ve had quite the rough night and I would like to rest now!”

“Wait...I’m so…” before Miguel could even finish his sentence, the door slammed shut in his face. A pack of cookies he had just bought fell to the ground and he couldn’t feel more stupid than in this moment. He didn’t need a mirror to know that he was red to the root of his hair, just like when he was a kid caught red-handed.

He had only just settled in this dimension and he still needed time to adjust. It was not enough that this world looked like his, because it was not his world. And that thought always made him feel sick in his stomach. Unlike his variant, he didn’t know every little detail about Gabriella or their apartment. So, the first night he didn’t find the cabinet with the plates, nor the one with the glasses. He didn’t know Gabriella’s schedule without looking at the planning on the fridge while his variant knew it by heart. He didn’t know what Gabriella’s favorite dish was, nor did he recognize her friend’s names when she mentioned them in a conversation. In these moments, he felt like an intruder and that thought always made him feel nauseous. He had already thought about leaving and returning back to his universe but… he couldn’t leave Gabriella alone. He knew what it felt like to grow up without the care of a father or to be betrayed by him. And he had sworn that he would be better than this.

But he was off to a rough start. Hell, he didn’t even find the door of his apartment. He didn’t even remember meeting his floor neighbor, which was a shame. The woman seemed to know him since she called him by his name but he had no idea of what hers was. Did his variant and her go along well? Now that he thought about it, Miguel has never been the friendly type. He didn’t know the names of his own neighbor in his original dimension. Maybe it was time to change this, and the fact that the said neighbor looked very charming had nothing to do with this decision…

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

Miguel turned around and noticed Gabriela on the apartment floor, holding her pink backpack on her shoulders. The sight almost made all the air in his lungs disappear, just like every single time. He couldn’t believe that she was there, all real and looking just like him. Maybe it could have seemed uncanny to see a mini-him, but every time he saw her dark brown eyes, her freckles and the long strands of chestnut hair, he was just in awe. She may not be his daughter, in the sense that she was not made out of his own flesh, but they looked too much alike for him to care. He was determined to take care of her as if she was his own daughter. Affection swelled in his heart and he replied with a light-hearted tone:

“Mija! You’re home early.”

He gestured in a way to open his arms so she could run to him and hug him, just like they did every day, but he only managed to make more groceries spill from the bags. And yet, he couldn’t care less. It was like, as soon as Gabriella was around, the moody Miguel just disappeared for a new version of him, one that seemed unable to get angry.

“Yes, Sandy’s mom got me home after the …” Gabriella replied while helping him gather the fallen groceries.

Sandy. He knew that name. He could even picture this girl. He was not doing too bad; he was a quick learner. Miguel was pretty sure that in less than a month, he would know everything about this world. His world.

Gabriella looked at the door her father was standing in front of and asked: “Did you talk with the new neighbor?” Miguel could feel the back of his neck burning under the heat of the shame he was feeling. Talking? Kinda. If you call being yelled at by a pretty woman talking, he wouldn’t mind talking a bit more often with her.

“It’s nothing, Gabi.” He would never admit that he had mistaken their apartment’s doors.

“You know she doesn’t like when people come talk to her.”

Oh really? Miguel grinned and replied:

“Yeah, I noticed.”

The little girl grabbed the box of cookies and a wide smile immediately blossomed on her face, making her nose scrunch up and Miguel’s heart melt.

“Those are the ones you wanted, right?”

“Yes, they’re my favorites! Thanks, dad.”

A wave of pride washed over Miguel as his daughter hugged his waist. He was still learning but he was definitely a quick learner.

***************

It’s been almost a week since the accident with his neighbor. Miguel hadn’t had the opportunity to see her again and he found himself looking at the closed door of her apartment every time he passed by. From what Gabriela had told him, she was the grumpy type, barely leaving her flat or speaking to anyone in the building. She moved in a few weeks ago, so it was not surprising that she was still shy. However, in her case shyness and grumpiness were two sides of the same coin.

This afternoon, Miguel had made extra time on his schedule to pick up Gabriela from school. The two had made a short stop at an ice cream shop on their way back home and were now waiting for the elevator while Gabriela’s incessant bubbling entertained him.

If someone had told Miguel that one day he would have the time for such mundane things and enjoy them, he would have not believed it. He never took the time for anything, not even having a decent meal sometimes. So, getting ice cream was not even an option. Hell, the moment he tasted that ice cream, he swore that his taste buds had never tasted anything this good in a long time. Was he really living such a dull life that he almost forgot the taste of ice cream?

Just when the doors of the elevator were about to close, he spotted someone walking in its direction and so he held the door for the newcomer. As soon as he recognized the silhouette, he felt a small tinge of both excitement and apprehension in his heart.

His neighbor thanked him with a sign of her head for holding the door and got into the small cabin without saying a word. She was standing in front of him and once again, he didn’t resist the temptation to eye her up and down. Her hair was tied in the back and she had her earphones on -clearly she was not the most talkative person in this building and she made it quite clear -, everything indicated that she must be coming back from some workout session. Her athleisure clothes highlighted even more the shapeliness of her legs and how long they were. This time, his gaze traveled a bit higher and he noticed her wide hips as well as the patch of bare skin above the hem of her yoga pants.

He must have been quite a desperate case if something as simple as the sight of some lower back and a hint of a belly got him all riled-up, he thought. But it turned out that ice creams were not the only thing Miguel had to deny himself with his busy lifestyle. He doesn’t even remember the last time he flirted with anyone; not that he didn’t get the occasion but he had never been prone to flirting with his colleagues and well, he never saw anyone outside of his colleagues. Needless to say that his last romantic experiences didn’t end well either. He had all the reasons in the world to keep it to himself.

But, does this mean that he couldn’t admire a beautiful woman or even try to engage in conversation with her? Absolutely not.

He was a new man, he was ‘cool dad Miguel’ and this new persona of his could definitely be a little friendlier toward his neighbor, right? There was nothing strange about engaging in a conversation with your friendly neighborhood. Miguel even began to think that he could become the type of guy who can easily chat about the weather. Everything was possible in this new life.

“Mhh, excuse me, miss?”

With her earbuds on, she didn’t hear him at first. It’s only when he cleared his throat that she turned around. Her lips were pursed in what could be either a grimace of disdain or annoyance and she looked absolutely done with everything and everyone.

For some reason, this only made Miguel more of a flustered mess.

“Hum...Hi...I wanted to apologize for the next day…”

Why did he have to stutter? He never stuttered. The piercing gaze of the woman didn’t help his stuttering. It seemed like his words had brought no emotion to her face and he even wondered if she remembered that day. Even Gabriella was staring at him as if he was some madman. Finally, the woman replied:

“It’s okay.” And without saying anything else, she turned back, clearly ending the conversation. Miguel didn’t know exactly what he was waiting for but it was not that. Was his pride hurt that a pretty woman didn’t seem to recognize him? Maybe. Was he a bit annoyed at her attitude? Maybe. Was he finding this attitude really attractive? Definitely.

He didn’t have any time to think about what was pulling him closer to this woman since Gabriella quickly resumed her ranting. Miguel was listening to her without saying a word, a fond smile on his lips as he wondered over her amazement of the whole world. At least, until Gabriella mentioned how impatient she was to do his nails again. That was one of the other tings that surprised him the most about himself -how easily Gabriella got him to do anything. She just needed to do her puppy eyes and he would agree on absolutely anything. Again, if someone had told him he was a girl dad, he would not have believed it. But here he was, playing dolls with his daughter or letting her paint his nails. He was very confident in his masculinity, so these things usually didn’t bother him. At least he thought so. For some reason, he was not too fond of the idea of a pretty woman hearing about his next nail appointment.

It looked like the woman didn’t hear Gabriella’s comment and for some reason, he felt relieved. He gave his daughter a soft smile and nodded his head.

“I want to try the one with the glitters! I’m sure it will look good on you!” Miguel internally winced in pain. It seemed like each sentence Gabriella uttered was like a direct kick into his ego but he knew better and simply replied:

“I’m sure it will, mija.”

“There are glitters in it!” Miguel will never understand the enthusiasm about glitters. He had stopped counting the number of times he found glitters on the pillows of the couch. These things should be banned.

A small chuckle echoed through the elevator. It was definitely not him and it was not his daughter either, so it could only be… Both Gabriela and him look at each other with a look of surprise until the woman slowly turned her head to look at them. And to Miguel’s surprise – and joy – a smug smile had crossed her lips, making one of her dimples pop out a little more. That was one dangerous smile and he understood why she wouldn’t smile too often. Not everyone deserved to see such perfection on a daily basis.

He gathered all his courage -who would have thought the moment you need to be the bravest is not in front of an army of zombies or a super villain but while facing the mocking smile of an attractive woman? - and tried to talk. But the words got stuck in his throat and before he could say anything, the doors opened and she left them alone in the elevator.

Miguel stayed frozen for a few seconds until Gabriela pulled on his hands and finally got him back to their apartment. He couldn’t resist giving one last look toward the door of the mysterious woman.

********

Miguel would only catch a glimpse of the woman during the next few days and he never had the chance to initiate the conversation, not that he knew what he would say. If it was like the last time, he would probably just end up stuttering a bunch of nonsense while getting lost in those deep brown eyes of hers like a man doomed to die in quicksands.

So, when he saw her entering the elevator that Tuesday afternoon, he made himself the promise to not speak a word and keeping it low. He didn’t need to embarrass himself more than he already did, twice. The woman seemed to recognize him as she nodded her head in his direction, which both scared him and made him feel butterflies in his stomach. He could notice more details about her as she stood by his side in the elevators. She had let her hair loose today and they bounced around her face in thick curls; glass frames in turtle-shell sat on top of her crooked nose and she was wearing one of these power suits with large shoulders. The color highlighted the glow of her skin and he couldn’t help but notice the subtle fragrance of her perfume.

But overall, he was not staring and he was definitely chill. Very chill. And laid-back. Not at all wondering what it would feel like to smell this scent directly from her skin.

To his surprise, he noticed her sneaking a quick glance in his direction from time to time. He subconsciously straightened up his posture –he had stopped counting the number of times he had been called out for his terrible back posture – and puffed out his chest. He would probably smack himself in the back of his head later for acting like some peacock. But it seemed like her eyes were more drawn towards his hands, especially the glittered pink nail polish on them. A smile curled up her lips, and this time it didn’t seem as mocking as it was the last time. Just when he was about to break the heavy silence between them, she said in a small voice- it was almost a whisper and he thought he had misheard her for a few seconds:

“She was right; it looks good on you.”

The doors opened with a small ‘ding’ and Miguel found himself dumbfounded once again, his jaw hanging low as he whispered in a hushed voice “Thank you”.

******

Miguel was heading toward his apartment building, more than eager to throw himself on the couch, and probably just dive into an endless slumber after that long day at work. Just when he entered the building, he noticed two things. First of all, there was a small sign on the elevator indicating that it was broken. And reading this sign, standing there, her arms overflowing with grocery bags stood his cute neighbor. As he stepped closer, he could hear her groan in annoyance. He didn’t need to think much before addressing her in a faint voice:

“Can I help you?”

Not only did he manage to talk to her but he also didn’t stutter. So, that was a win. The woman turned around and maybe it was his delusion speaking, but her smile seemed even more genuine when she saw him. Or maybe she was just happy that someone would help her out…

“Thanks but I’m okay.”, she politely declined his offer even though she was clearly not okay. Miguel didn’t dare saying anything and he didn’t need to. As soon as she made a step, she almost dropped one of her grocery bags down the floor. Thanks to his superhuman reflexes, Miguel was quick to catch it and she couldn’t deny that she in fact needed his help. Miguel sensed that it costed her to admit this and truly speaking, this was something he could understand and respect; being himself unable to ask for help even if his life depended on it.

The two of them climbed the stairs in silence and Miguel couldn’t resist peaking at the inside of the bags he was carrying. He had no idea on how this woman was living since she was always so secretive and it seemed like no one could get a glimpse of her life behind this closed door. In one of the bags he could spot a box of eggs, frozen pizza rolls and among other snacks one green vegetable. This made him laugh quietly as his own groceries were not so different when he used to live alone, before Gabriella. Not that he minded adding more vegetables to his own diet now. He also noticed a few cans of tuna in the other bag and multiple period pads. His cheeks instantly flared up at the sight, which made him curse himself internally for that. He was a grown man for God’s sake and a scientist. But periods were not what got him reacting this way, it was more likely the fact that he could catch a glimpse of such an intimate part of her life, when he even barely knew this woman.

He forced his eyes to focus somewhere else and they landed on her back and drifted towards the swaying of her hips as she moved up the stairs. Not good for his blushing.

They finally stopped at the right floor and he watched her opening the door. For the first time he noticed the small charm that she used as a keychain. It was one of these small Japanese cats with one of their paws raised to their head and a peaceful smile on their face. He smiled at the sight, finding this little touch of personality quite endearing.

The two of them parted away after she had thanked him and Miguel didn’t dare saying anything more than a polite “You’re welcome” but he was sure he had heard something, or someone, moving on the other side of the door.

******

After only two months in this dimension, Miguel could proudly say that he was fitting in nicely. He knew Gabriella’s schedule by heart, he had met all of her friends and he didn’t mistake the door of his apartment with the door of someone else anymore. Of course this didn’t mean that he knew everything about Gabriella or this world yet. But he had understood that he would need a lot of patience and that was fine by him. Overall he was satisfied by this new life, and it was easy to see. Or course, it was tiring to juggle between saving the multiverse on a daily basis and being a single father, but he managed to make it work. He had even fallen into a comforting routine.

Among all the small rituals he had now in this life – like doing Gabriella’s hair every morning before school, making a lunchbox for the two of them every night or their weekly movie nights – one of his favorites was seeing her...

At this point, Miguel had accepted the fact that he had a crush on his neighbor.

There was nothing wrong in having a small crush, even at his age after all. That’s what he liked to tell himself every time he was delusional. He was pretty sure that the feeling wasn’t mutual and that she was way out of his league, but a man could dream. Either way, he already had too much on his plate, right? Romance has never been a part of the plan anyway.

Then, how come he always ended up acting like a fool when this woman approached him? He had a phd on neuro-physic, had practically invented the inter-dimensional travel and was overall a pretty smart guy but she just had a way to send him back to default mode with one look. He clearly remembered that day he saw her approaching with her wet umbrella and the only thing he managed to say was:

“It’s raining, huh?”

Like, no shit Sherlock, of course it’s raining, he immediately thought. He genuinely wondered how this woman was not already fed up with him but she seemed to hold as much as patience as phlegm in her. He even caught her smiling in his direction from time to time, clearly feeding in his delusion. She didn’t seem to find him as annoying as he found himself and they even ended up chatting a bit.

But most of the time, he would only see her in the morning when he was heading off to work, just when she seemed to come back from work. He guessed that she must have some type of jobs with unusual schedules and this was only confirmed the day he caught a glimpse of her still wearing her scrubs. She must have had a rough night of work and Miguel felt even worse for the day he had woken her up. Her hair was tied in a tight up-do and dark bags settled under her eyes. He was not looking any better after spending a whole night in an other dimension trying to catch an anomaly. The two of them exchanged one knowing look inside the elevator and after Miguel asked “Rough night again, huh?”, she found herself chuckling a bit. This was the kind of sound that he could listen to on repeat for days, he thought.

When he first heard the knock on his door, Miguel wasn’t expecting to find her waiting on his doorstep at this time of the day. But here she was, dressed in that dainty sundress with a flower pattern that just perfectly highlighted the curves of her shoulders and hugged her belly tightly, asking him to borrow some eggs. At this point, he was close to ask for some mercy on his poor mind and body but he managed to calmly give her what she had asked him for. With this dress on, he would have given her all the eggs in the world if she had asked for.

The second time, she came asking for some flour. The third time, it was sugar. Surely, she would soon find herself out of things to ask for, which scared him a bit. He liked these moments when he would see her at the most unexpected times, asking him in a quiet voice to help her with those big brown eyes playing tricks on his brain. After some time, he slowly realized that she must be doing all of this as an excuse to see him; that or she was preparing to open a bakery of some sort.

She always made sure to let enough time between each visit to not look too suspicious but she was fooling no one, not even herself. And one day, Miguel had the utmost pleasure of seeing the subtle hint of a delicate blush on her cheeks when he joked about the fact that they literally had a supermarket down the street. She grumbled something he barely understood and he thought he would never get tired of seeing her like this.

*****

So, when he heard someone knocking at the door this Sunday morning, he immediately jumped on his feet and ran toward the door, hoping it would be her. And it was. But this time she seemed slightly more concerned and flustered.

“Hum...sorry to bother you but I have a problem with the water at my place… Do you think you could maybe take a look at this? It’s okay if you can’t...I just didn’t know who else to ask in this building…”

Miguel practically melted on the spot when he heard her asking for help. It was still early on the day and she was still in her pajamas. She had hastily thrown a robe over her clothes and her face was practically covered by a thick mass of heavy curls, the tip of her nose pointing up out of this beautiful mess. It took him all his willpower to not lean close to her face and start kissing her there, right on the tip of her nose. He had never been a romantic person but there was just something in her that got him enthralled by every detail he found on her body, even the smallest or most insignificant. Not that anything was insignificant with her, whether it was her laugh, her smile, the depth of her voice…

That’s how Miguel found himself lying on her bathroom floor, looking at the underside of the sink. He had been a bit impressed when he first stepped into her apartment. The place was a bit smaller than his and he found himself feeling quite comfortable with the muffled atmosphere. The gentle lights didn’t trigger his very sensitive eyes and he was very glad for this. It seemed like she had settled very well inside this apartment as it was filled with a lot of stuff already; she seemed to be more on the maximalist side of things, and it looked very lively overall. Even the bathroom had a certain level of messiness that he found charming. He quietly laughed when he noticed the huge mass of green plants hanging from different pots, some of their vines even running along the showers walls.

“I’m really sorry for the mess.”, she quickly apologized but he gave her a reassuring look as he began to fix the leaky pipes. He didn’t find this a problem, quite the opposite. He was glad to discover so many new sides of her after being so long in the dark.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t hear her coming closer, watching him work in silence. The small look of admiration she gave him filled him with pride and a softer feeling that dispersed through his chest.

“Is it bad?”

She had asked while leaning over his shoulders and as she did so, he could catch a whiff of her scent. It was not the same as in the elevator. This time, it was not some sort of expensive and delicate fragrance that perfumed her skin but her natural scent. It was a very heady scent with some spicy notes in it. He could discern something like cinnamon and an other more delicate and dainty scent close to vanilla. His hypersensitivity made the sensation even stronger and his nostrils flared up while he fought the urge to pull her closer to inhale deeply this scent.

“No, it’s nothing. We also got this sometimes at the apartment. You just gotta make sure those pipes don’t get clogged too often…” His words died on his lips when he noticed just how close they were now. Her warm breath was brushing against the back of his ear and he could feel the small hair on the back of his neck standing up. He suddenly realized just how small the bathroom actually was as their bodies were suddenly very close to one another and he tried to move away. Due to his larger frame, he only managed to hit his head against the edge of the sink. He was expecting her to laugh or at least crack a smile but she seemed genuinely worried as the impact had made some of the stuff on the sink fall.

“Are you okay?”

Without giving him any time to reply, she leaned a bit closer and her fingers carefully pushed some strands of hair on top of his head to check if he had any concussion. Miguel felt like her fingertips were directly sending a jolt of electricity down his whole body and to the tip of his hair. He sat there, quietly, letting her slender fingers rummage through his locks, trying to keep his gaze focused somewhere else, anywhere else than the pleasing sensation of her warmth so close to him.

She had insisted on thanking him with a cup of coffee and no matter how hard he had protested, she managed to make him seat on one of the stools in the kitchen. Miguel was still a bit flustered from their little moment earlier and he was trying his best to not stare too much at her, so his gaze traveled through the apartment. That’s when it hits him. Everything looked strangely old inside this place, or was clearly thrifted. Miguel knew that his original dimension and this one were really advanced in terms of technology compared to many others and therefore, a lot of the items and devices peopled used on the daily were highly futuristic and sometimes seem soulless… But here, everything, even the smallest trinket, seemed to have a soul, a story. He liked how everything seemed to belong to different eras and seemed frozen in time. The place was like a small, comforting bubble of warmth in the chaos of this futuristic raging city.

When she presented him a warm cup of coffee, they both exchanged a smile and she couldn’t help herself but joke:

“It’s not the finest China I have…”

“It’s perfect.”

Miguel made sure to carefully hold the cup as it seemed even older than both of them combined. He gave the apartment one last look and his eyes stopped on a fuzzy shape that he hadn’t noticed before. The thing moved and two pointy ears appeared from the depth of its black fur. Then two round eyes stared at him from the living room.

“Or should I rather say that it’s purr-fect.” Miguel chuckled, knowing that his lame dad joke was either a hit or miss and to his delight, she chuckled even more. His grip on the cup went a bit more shaky every time he heard her laughing.

The cat at the other end of the living room yawned and stretched on top of one the numerous pillows thrown on the couch. With a place like this, he definitely understood why she would never leave her home. He didn’t even want to leave himself.

****

“Look, dad, a cat! He is so cute.”, Gabriella cooed while looking through the kitchen’s window. There was indeed a small, fuzzy black cat resting on top of their balcony, a sluggish look on his face while his tail swayed from side to side in the air.

Miguel smiled as he recognized the said cat. However the cat didn’t seem to recognize him and he ran away as soon as Miguel made a move to open the window to Gabriela’s disappointment.

Nevertheless the cat came back a few times and soon even Miguel was smitten by this little fuzzball. There was even something in the mean looks the cat was giving him that reminded him of his owner. Even the shape of their eyes were almost alike.

Miguel could be in the middle of cooking when he would suddenly hear the cat meowing on the other side of the window, begging for some leftover, as if he wasn’t being fed already enough. To his surprise, Miguel found himself feeding the cat from time to time, even buying some designed snacks for him since he wasn’t sure that the feline could eat everything.

As soon as Gabriela had managed to pet the small feline and he had purred in her arms, Miguel knew it was over. She would beg him to adopt one cat and he was right. For the first time, he had to refuse his daughter something, no matter how much she would plead with her hangdog look or her sulky face, there was no way they could handle a cat here.

But Miguel had to admit the small feline had a certain charm to himself. He might look cold and unapproachable at first but as soon as people gained his trust, he was almost clingy. Like someone else Miguel knew too well… He even found the cat waiting for him on top of their building when he would come back from a mission late at night as Spider-Man. It felt good to see someone waiting for him, even if it was just a cat. It was like a link between the two lives he was living. Because there was no way he would tell anyone else about his secret identity.

***

“Why the glasses?”

“I’m sorry? What?”

Miguel had perfectly heard the question but he didn’t know he would answer it yet. She had asked him quite abruptly this question and he was a bit unsettled to say the least. Coupled with her most innocent-looking eyes, he was unable to think for a clever answer. The truth was that Miguel had to wear these glasses because of his mutation. His eyes were more sensitive than most people’s and if he didn’t want to end up with excruciating headaches, he had to result to this.

He stuttered:

“I...hum...when the Sun’s a little too bright, I end up having migraines and it’s very painful…”

Her silence made him feel a bit more uncomfortable and he kept sinking more into convoluted explanations:

“It’s like a condition...from my mother...hum...it’s very rare…”

It was a rather vague explanation but she seemed satisfied by it, or at least acted like she was. While they were walking to the doors of their apartments, Miguel couldn’t resist asking her why she asked this question in the first place. To which she replied:

“I just thought it was a shame that you had to cover your eyes like that…”

****

Miguel was quietly laughing as he looked at the different brands of snacks in front of him. The racks of the supermarket were overflowing with different varieties of chips, candies and probably enough sugar to kill an elephant; exactly what he needed. Gabriella was off to a sleepover with her friends and he finally got the whole evening for himself. What was making him laugh was the fact that all these brand’s names were almost the same as in his universe, but not exactly quite the same. It was often a small letter that changed the whole name and this has always been something funny to him to look at. It truly was fascinating to see how many changes there were between all the different universes, and yet, everything was part of something bigger and united. Like some sort of web.

He finally chose a pack of chips and an even larger one of marshmallows. A small chuckle that he immediately recognized rang behind him and he slowly turned around to face her. Of course they were leaving in the same neighborhood, so it was inevitable that they would end up shopping at the same place. Miguel gave her a stupid, little giddy smile and asked:

“Someone finally came to buy her own eggs and flour?”

Seeing the blush that spread all over her cheeks, Miguel felt very satisfied with himself. Not that he minded her visits at the apartment, but at this point she must know it. She was holding a basket with her own groceries and Miguel couldn’t help but smile when he saw all the cans of tuna she had bought for the cat. He assumed she just came back from either one of her yoga classes or a jogging because she looked a bit disheveled and her face was still red from the effort. Her skin looked very flushed around her face but what caught his attention was the way her skin seemed to glisten from all this sweating. He was clearly not about to complain about the view. Was there even a moment when this woman was not stunning? Must be something in the air of this dimension…

She looked at the bags of marshmallow he was holding and her smile only widened.

“Let me guess, movie nights?” Miguel watched her trying to grab something on the highest shelf and despite her more than respectable height, he had to help her. When he handed her the small box, he finally replied:

“Not really. I’m just planning on stuffing my face with as much snacks as I can. No particular reason.”

“I’m sure Gabriella gonna love this program.”, she replied with a soft voice that barely showed any sign of mockery. He had always noticed how she seemed to have a soft spot for Gabriella. Honestly, who wouldn’t? Maybe he wasn’t very objective, but he could proudly say that his daughter was like some sort of angel. And it seemed like she could even agree on that.

“Gabriella is not here tonight. She’s at her friend’s place.”

“And that’s a good news?”, she asked with a bit of a smile. She must have noticed how slightly disappointed he sounded while saying so. To be quite frank, Miguel was glad that his daughter had friends to spend time with. She was a very sociable little girl, unlike him when he was younger. He just couldn’t help but think that after waiting so much time to have his own family, he wanted to make the most of it. Maybe he was also a bit too protective sometimes, which apparently was not exactly his variant’s type. He was sure the variant made a good job raising Gabriella, especially since he was alone, but Miguel knew better than this. The dangers of the world were nothing new or strange to him and he wanted Gabriella to stay away from these as long as possible. To some extent, he wanted her to stay the little girl she was. Not in some creepy way but he had never seen her as a baby; he had missed her early years too and he wanted to enjoy these last years with her before she would enter high school and then leave for college… This thought alone made his head spin. For one of the first time in his life, he was able to make plans for the future.

He knew that this was just a slumber party but so many things could happen while she was away from the house. What if she fell down some stairs at her friend’s house? What if she burned herself while they were making s’more? What if she had an allergic reaction? What if…

The woman put one of her hands on his arm and asked him if he was okay. Miguel must have looked like someone who was spiraling down his train of thoughts.

“Yes, thank you. I’m perfectly fine. It’s just that…”

He didn’t need to say more. With an understanding smile, she replied:

“It’s her first slumber party and you’re afraid to let her out of the house?”

Miguel wasn’t sure that it was Gabriella’s first slumber party. She must have had many others before but for him this was totally new. All of this was new to him, just like the contact of her warm hands on his bare arm. “Focus, Miguel, focus.” He cleared his throat and asked:

“Is it that obvious?”

A cheeky smile curled up her lips, and Miguel could swear he saw more understanding in it than just amusement at his situation:

“You look like my parents when I used to go on slumber parties. I remember my dad willing to come pick me up at any hour of the night and my mom who could barely fall asleep if she knew I wasn’t at home.”

She even sounded nostalgic when talking about this. Miguel had the feeling that he was looking at a new part of her personality through a tiny window opened just for him.

The only problem was that he was pretty sure that ‘cool dad Miguel’ was not the type to spend hours getting his daughter ready before an innocent slumber party and stressing over everything and nothing. That wasn’t very ‘cool dad’ of him and he must have looked like one of those overprotective parents who would wrap their kids in bubble wrap if they could.

Was she viewing him like that?

“I think I understand your parents…”, he simply replied and to his relief she agreed with him.

“I never said I didn’t understand them. I mean, yes, it was frustrating sometimes to not be allowed to go out or go to some parties or even have a curfew while everyone was outside…”

Miguel’s chest tightened as he imagined a teenage Gabriella wanting to go at a party. That would be hypocritical of him to deny her this but at the same time, he knew he would spend his entire night worrying about her.

Was Gabriella frustrated with him being over-protective? Was he a little bit too much?

“...but one day I understood that they were doing this for my own good. In their clumsy, sometimes very awkward way, they just wanted to protect me.”

Her last words brought some comfort upon Miguel’s heart and he was thankful that she was willing to talk and listen to him about these things. For most of his life, Miguel had never been a father or even a parental figure to anyone and he never had the chance to learn this from his own parents.

“I just don’t want her to resent me for acting this way. I’m glad she is going out and making friends, really… But...I don’t know, maybe this is going too fast?”

Like, literally too fast. He was expecting a strong reaction from his interlocutor, but she only smiled even more softly.

“Trust me, she won’t resent you.”

“Hod do you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen the way you are with her. She is lucky to have a father like you.”

If Miguel could have combusted right on the spot, he would have done it. His face was probably the same shade of red as Gabriela’s ladybug cuddy toy and he could feel even the back of his ears heating up. How embarrassing would it be for a grown man to have a meltdwon in the middle of the snack alley? He didn’t want to try his luck and find out, so he took a hold of himself and managed to keep his composure. First, she was touching him and then she was giving him one of the most beautiful compliment he would ever dream of...

“That’s...thank you. You’re...you’re being too nice.”

“I’m not. I wouldn’t be saying this if it wasn’t the truth.”

Her firm tone left no room for any doubt or way for him to talk back. This was like a nice pat to his ego but also very reassuring words to hear. It was not every day that Miguel got praised this way and he wouldn’t complain about getting this kind of praises by her, out of all people. Miguel appreciated how brutally honest she could be at times for it only made this type of moments even more enjoyable and he was sure she wasn’t lying to him just to make him feel nice.

“Thank you.”

She nodded in acknowledgment while the two of them moved toward the checkout. While Miguel was putting all his stuff on the conveyor belt, he saw her looking at a few newspaper put near the cash register. He cringed as soon as he was the front page. A large picture of him in his Spider-suit, in full color was on the first page.

Miguel knew he had to protect his identity but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t help the people from this realm. Just like in his own Nueva-York, the city’s underbelly was a paradise for any kind of criminals and the traffic of the rapture wasn’t helping either. He just couldn’t stand there and let this city be run by crime, even if it meant sacrificing some of his time with his daughter to run off in the middle of the night. Every time Miguel thought about the death of his variant he was filled with so much frustration. The fact that an innocent man could have been killed this way in the middle of the street and left for dead without anyone willing to help him really strained his faith in humanity. He couldn’t let that happen again; he wouldn’t let any criminal in this city make an orphan of a kid.

However, he was aware that some people were not very found of him and especially the way he was not collaborating with the police. But after all, it has always been part of Spider-Man’s identity. He had to work hard in order to gain people’s trust.

He couldn’t help but look at her face while she was looking at the front cover and when he saw a small smile on her lips, he really thought that was over. He will definitely have a melt-down at the checkout.

The title of the paper reads: “Spider-Man, criminal or hero?” and Miguel was curious about her answer.

“So, what do you think?”, he asked in a small voice. She looked back at him and Miguel was again about to lose it when he saw the pink hue covering her cheeks.

“You mean, about Spider-Man? I mean, is there even a need to ask this question? Of course he is a hero. I mean, before moving in Nueva York I was very anxious and everyone was warning me about this city. But since he is here...everything changed and for the better.”

Take a deep breath, Miguel. Just take a deep breath. Just don’t look at her in the eyes and everything will be fine. Of course, he looked at her in the eyes and he almost lost it. If this fool didn’t know better, he would have thanked her for this.

“You don’t think so?”, she asked and Miguel panicked a bit, trying to find a good answer without cringing at himself.

“I...I think that what he is doing is admirable. But I don’t know if he would consider himself a hero…”

“Then how would he see himself?”, she asked in an interested voice. Miguel swallowed hard before replying:

“I think, and that’s just an hypothesis of course, that sometimes he just feels alone… He probably didn’t have much of a choice when it comes to being who he is and he probably just feels like a guy who tries his best…”

The silence that followed his words made him immediately regret what he just said and he was about to back off:

“It’s just an hypothesis of course…”

“I’ve never thought about it this way…”, she replied slowly. “I hope he doesn’t feel as lonely as you think he is… He doesn’t deserve this.”

At this point of the conversation, Miguel’s legs were very mushy and his brain had some trouble forming even a simple sentence. The way she was looking at this picture of him made his limbs go all jittery and he wished that she could look at him this way. If she did one day, he would die happy.

They kept chatting all the way back home and when they finally parted way, Miguel felt like there was an unresolved tension in the air. They both stood in front of the door and looked at each other as if they were waiting for the other one to say it, to make the first step. He was alone tonight and so was she. What’s wrong in asking your friendly neighbor if they wanted to spend a nice evening with you? Nothing. Then why couldn’t he just invite her to come over?

He knew that as soon as the door would be closed on them, he would barely hold himself together. He would just burst into a million pieces like a broken puzzle just to let her build him back together. He would let her do anything she wanted with him, whether she desired to break him or just pamper him. He was hers without any doubt and that thought both made his heart race faster and ache. When was the last time he allowed himself to be this vulnerable around someone? What if he had to leave in the middle of all of this because of a mission? What if the feeling wasn’t mutual and he came off as pushy? What if she didn’t like him back?

Miguel felt like years of self-doubt and hesitation all rushed back to him. He suddenly remembered the fact that he was a mess, someone who didn’t really belong here and that his body was the one of a mutant. How would he explain the talons on his hands or even his fangs?

And that’s how the two of them parted away that night. Miguel knew that whatever choice he would make, he would regret it.

****

Miguel smacked an other kiss on Gabriella’s cheek before leaving his apartment. He was in a rush and under a lot of pressure as well as an unhealthy amount of caffeine. He hadn’t slept that much last night because of a mission he had in an other universe and when he was expecting to spend this day at home with Gabriella, chilling and rewatching one of their favorite movies together, he had been called at work for an emergency. If not for his brother, Gabriel, he would have had to leave his daughter alone at home all day.

Maybe it was time for him to find a baby-sitter. He knew Gabriella would hate this idea. She was already ten and she would argue that she would be fine alone. He didn’t doubt her maturity any minute but an accident could happen so fast… Even if he didn’t really like the idea of letting a stranger come into his house, he had no other choice. He just needed to find someone he really trusted enough to take care of Gabriella, and someone Gabriella appreciated.

He was very much lost in his thoughts when he heard a soft voice greeting him. Miguel lifted his eyes from his shoes and when he saw her, his breath almost left his lungs. She must have been going out today because she looked all dolled-up. His voice croaked out a small “Hi” and suddenly all thoughts about baby-sitters or work left his mind. The off the shoulder dress made his imagination run wild while his senses succumbed to the sugary aroma of her perfume. She was so close to him in this small cabin, so close he could run his hands over the satin of her dress if he just stretched his hand a little further, and yet so far away like some forbidden fruit. The memory of this aborted evening together had left a sour taste in the back of his mouth and he resented himself for chickening out every single time he found himself alone with her.

They engaged in some light chatting and Miguel couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy when she mentioned going out with friends this afternoon. He couldn’t really afford to be jealous since he was nothing to her and was too much of a coward to make the first move. He also knew how shitty of him that was to feel such things but he couldn’t deny it. The longer he kept looking at her in this dress, the more he wanted to pull her closer to him and keep her wrapped in his arms for days and days. It’s been months since he met her now and he was still at the first step of it all, which consisted of daydreaming about her and immediately feeling ashamed of his fantasies. This woman was turning him into a mess.

“It’s very rare to see you out there on a Saturday? I hope nothing bad happened…”

How sweet and considerate of her… If only his attraction to this woman depended only of the physical attraction he was feeling for her, this would be easier. He would just put it on the account of all these months he spend alone, living like some monk. But it was more than that. Miguel didn’t just want some easy hook-up with her. He wanted to wake up with her every morning; to have her taking part in their movie nights with Gabriella; to let him braid her hair before she went to work; to love her… He wanted so many things. He wanted that wit, that laugh, that tenderness of her into his life.

“No...it’s just that...we are working on something and they needed me at work… It’s...it’s complicated…”

Miguel didn’t want to bore her with his work stories but every single time he did so, she just stayed quiet and let him dump his worries on her shoulders. He felt terrible because he knew she already had a lot going on her side but at the same time, it felt good to have someone listening to him and even understanding him.

“Hopefully my brother managed to get some time off today to watch Gabriella. But I think next time I will need to find some baby-sitter… Do you think I could place an ad at the supermarket?”

“I could do it.”

“Placing an ad?”

“No, I mean, watching over Gabriella.”

Her proposition took him by surprised and he was too stunned to speak for a few seconds. This could be the right solution after all. Gabriella and her seemed to get along very well and she had her way around children with her job. He also knew she was someone he could trust…

“But I don’t want to bother you…”

“You’re never bothering me, Miguel.”

***

It was past midnight and Miguel was afraid to go back home, just like when he was a teenager coming home after his curfew at the Alchemax Institute. Only this time, he was worried for different reasons. He had managed to leave work early today but due to some troubles in one of the worst neighborhood in town, he had to put on his Spider suit and go, barely having the time to call for his neighbor to watch over Gabriella. He had thought all of this would be over soon, but it turned out he was wrong. He felt terrible, knowing he had to ask her for her help in such a short amount of time and he was coming back home way too late without looking suspicious. And if that wasn’t already enough, he was spotting a pretty bad bruise on the right side of his face.

When he entered his living room, he found her sitting on the couch, her legs under her body, wrapped in a cozy blanket, fighting off sleep with a book in hand. This triggered his sense of protectiveness and he just wished he could run to her and take her in his arms. He couldn’t believe she was waiting for him all this time.

“Hi…”

She was a little startled by the sudden intrusion and she jumped on the couch. She turned around and as soon as she saw his bruised face, her smile disappeared. Miguel tried to act as if nothing was wrong, asking if Gabriella was already asleep, to which she slowly nodded her head:

“Yes...yes she is. But...what happened to your face?”

“Oh this?”, he said while touching the bruise with his fingertips, “Nothing. I just...tripped.”

This poor explanation didn’t convince her and she was back on her feet in a matter of seconds. Her hands immediately cupped his face and her fingertips brushed against his bruise. The very focused and serious expression on her face made him imagine that this was what she was looking like when working. He always guessed that she must be a great nurse but he was definitely certain of it when he saw all the care she put while handling his beaten up face. He barely felt her touch, except for when she pushed her fingers a little more against the skin that was already turning purple.

He made a soft sound that he wasn’t even aware he could do and that made him feel terribly ashamed of himself and very self-conscious. The sound was between the gasp and the moan and made his loins burn immediately with the need to release all the heat trapped in his body.

“Shh...it’s okay. It will take maybe a week or two to heal but that will be fine…”, her soft voice comforted him and he had to fight the urge to just rest his head against the palm of her delicate hand.

She went to the kitchen to grab a bag of ice for his face and Miguel released a soft groan when her fingers left his cheek. He must really be down bad for acting like such a fool. When she went back and put the bag against his face, he immediately felt relief wash over him.

“I’m sorry for being home late…”, he whispered after a few awkward minutes of silence.

“It’s okay. We had a great evening together with Gabriella. She is really cute.”

“Yes, she is.”

He was growing a bit more uncomfortable under her gaze. There was no way she believed his lie and he knew it. But he couldn’t tell her the truth and risking her safety. Little did he know she already had some suspicions about him at this point and if he was suspecting it, he decided to let it go. He was too tired to have an argument or even a conversation tonight and he just rested his back against the couch, his head thrown over the pillows. The only thing her remembers before falling asleep was her voice:

“Please, be careful, Miguel.”

***

Not all Miguel’s missions implied fighting off goons or criminals. Sometimes he would have to rescue people trapped in a burning building or from any other type of disaster honestly. And today was one of these days. As soon as he had heard that a train had deviated from its usual route and was about to crash down the bridge in the middle of the city, he dropped everything he was doing and ran off to the place of the accident. Apparently one person was still trapped inside the wagon.

Miguel moved as carefully as he could, using his webs to swing from one part of the bridge to an other before landing on top of the train. A woman was holding one of the bars for her dear life and she looked so pale, he thought she was about to pass out from fear. It was true that the whole thing had stopped at a really concerning height. If the train just fell, this would kill them both instantly and this was without even talking about the shock of hitting the cold water underneath.

When he recognized the face of the woman, Miguel’s anxiety skyrocketed and it took all his willpower to not call for her and stay calm. He needed to keep a cold head and not let his emotions take over him during a mission, which was something he had learned to do years ago. He carefully slipped into the wagon through a broken window and made his way towards her, using his palm to stick to the wall.

“Hey, are you alright?”

She didn’t answer. Her gaze was locked on the dark water underneath and Miguel immediately guessed that she must have been scared of heights.

“Hey, look at me. It’s going to be alright.”

The woman turned his head toward him and her expression really shattered his calm behavior. He had never seen her so distressed and scared. She was usually so calm and collected, even wearing a slug smile from time to time. There was none of that now as her eyes were open wide and her lips quivering in fear. Just when she was about to say something, a strong gust of wind blew against the wagon and the fragile structure lost its balance and hung more in the void. She pushed a scream of pure terror while nervous tears rolled down her cheeks.

Miguel jumped as fast as he could across the train and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He was no longer thinking as Miguel but as Spider-Man. Usually, this contact between the two of them would have made him flustered but not today. His grip around her waist tightened and he pulled her closer to his sturdy chest.

“Just close your eyes, okay, and trust me.”

His warmth wrapped around her as she closed her eyes and her own arms wrapped around him.

“That’s right. You’re doing just fine.”

When he was sure she was holding him tight enough, Miguel carefully took the two of them out of this hazard situation and shot one of his web toward a pillar of the bridge.

“We’re gonna move just a bit, okay?”

“What?”

She didn’t have the time to voice her concerns that Miguel jumped from the platform of the train while this last one dived into the water. Unlike what she was expecting, no sound of terror left her lips when she felt their bodies swinging through the air. Even if she was truly terrified, she trusted him and either way, her body wasn’t able to move from his tight grip and her fear. She just nuzzled her face deep onto the crook of his neck while holding him tightly. The wind blew through her hair with force and Miguel wished he could have felt it brushing against his skin, without the mask blocking it. He was a bit more relaxed now that they were out of this situation and he basked himself in the warmth of her body, certain that he would never have an other opportunity to feel it. The scent of hair made him feel ill with a fever so intense he never encountered one before. The need to just dive his face into those luscious curls was getting too strong for him and he needed to collect himself asap.

When he finally landed on the ground, he made sure to gently let her down. His voice was a bit hoarse after all of this when he asked her is she was okay.

But no matter how much his voice had changed, she definitely recognized it.

***

The sudden flash of a flashlight blinded him for a few seconds and he groaned in annoyance. Miguel was still wearing his Spider suit and he was panicking, hoping he could make it clear out of this situation from anyone who caught him going back to his place this late at night. He was just hoping that it wouldn’t be Gabriella because he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. He wouldn’t even be able to lie to...

“I knew it!”

Shock! It was her. Miguel’s eyes squinted in the direction of the silhouette holding the light. Long curly hair, loose bathrobe and thick brows furrowing into a concerned expression. He was done.

“That’s not what it looks like.”

“You’re dressed as Spider-Man in the middle of the night, on top of our apartment building, Miguel. What does it look like to you?”

He was not sure if she was angry, frustrated or maybe both. Miguel tried to explain himself but after seeing him jumping from a building to an other and using his web, he would just lose his time denying it. She had recognized his voice, she was suspicious since the day she mentioned his glasses. There was no escape for him.

“I...okay, you got me there but…” Why was he acting like he needed to apologize? He did nothing wrong? Yes, he did lie to her and hid the truth from her but it was for her own good. He never intended to hurt her feelings or make her feel like he wanted to keep her out of his life.

“But what? Do you really think I was this stupid to not connect the dots?”

“I’ve never thought you were stupid!”

“Do you realize just how worried I was?”

This time, he didn’t have any word to reply to her. His mouth just hung low and he was breathing out some deep huffs. Did he hear this right?

“You...you were worried?”

Her fists tightened into balls and she kept on ranting:

“Of course I was worried! How do you think I felt every time I saw you coming back late and all beaten up! I even imagined the worst case scenarios, Miguel! I swear to God, you’re gonna make me go crazy one day! I just…”

Before an other word could leave her lips, Miguel put into action his other plans for them. He didn’t think of anything while doing this. But the fact that she cared so much about him, when he has spend his whole life thinking no one would and that he was worthy of such attention, had broken his last resistance. If she knew who he truly was and didn’t mind it, she might as well know what he was thinking and feeling.

With one swift move of hi wrist, Miguel launched a web at her and pulled her closer until she ended up in his arms, all pressed against his solid chest and stammering heart. And without giving it a second thought, his lips found her in a kiss he wished he could have given her sooner. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs playing along the edges of her jaw, holding back as much as he can to cover it in kisses and let his hands slide down her neck.

He wished he could devour her with his kiss, make up for all the time they lost. His heart practically bursts out of his chest when he feels her indulging into the kiss, tilting her head to the side so they could deepen the kiss. Her hands grabbed his suit tightly while she moves her plump lips against his. They are breathing into each other’s mouth and their bodies molding against one another, making him feel weak in the knees. Her soft curves brush against his body and he can’t fight back the urgency of this situation. Some strands of her hair get tangled with his fingers and he wants more. So much more in this moment.

They both had to break the kiss at some point because the heat between them has become unbearable and they needed to breathe. They huffed into each other’s face with their foreheads touching. Her eyes are still closed and he is watching her, admiring her like one admires a piece of art. His fingers brush against her cheek, her nose, her lashes and he shivers when he feels them fluttering against his skin. Her eyes are beaming with affection, the same way his do and he feels like he is watching a galaxy of lights and stars unraveling into these deep sloes.

“Do you always resolve a conflict this way?”, she asks with a small grin that almost makes him start to kiss her again.

“Only when it’s with you…”, he breathed out in a tender voice.

***

“Stop moving around.”

“Stop torturing me like this, then.”

She immediately stops the movement of her wrist and therefore of the needle she was using to stitch him up. He is sitting on the floor of her apartment on top of a mountain of soft and fluffy pillows while she was tending to his wounds, sitting behind him on the couch, his head on her lap. Life couldn’t get any better than this to his humble opinion and he couldn’t resist the temptation of bickering around. He slowly shifts his body, half-facing her and grips her thigh with his hand, a smug face on his lips:

“What kind of nurse are you if you’re always this brutal with your patients?”

He was clearly messing with her since she was nothing but pure softness when it came to his wounds. And God knows he was giving her a lot of work. But he couldn’t help it. It was like she had unlocked a new side of him and when he was around her, he couldn’t help but feel playful, as if all the weight on his shoulder had disappeared.

“If you’re not satisfied, then you can go and find someone else as your new healer.”, she replied with a sarcastic tone, knowing damn well he wouldn’t leave even for the most talented healer out there.

“Mhh...I think I’m gonna stick around with you a bit more…”, he replied in a low voice before kissing her bare knee.

His eyes lifted up to look at her from above and his gaze darkened under his lashes when he saw her flustered expression. He could trace his way all along her thigh, only using his lips if he wanted to and the need to do it was growing stronger with every minute. Instead he kept squeezing her plush thigh with his hand, letting out a low hum when he realized how easily he could dig his fingers into her plump skin.

“How generous of you…”, she replied with a flirty smirk.

“I know, I’m so selfless sometimes…”. Just when he finished his sentence, he squeezed a little harder her thigh. But despite being careful and trying to keep it playful, one of his talons pushed against her flesh making her gasp.

“Shock! I’m sorry, it’s not supposed to happen. I didn’t mean to…” Embarrassment was filling up Miguel’s face. This was the reason why they had never been intimate together yet. There was no way he could trust himself around her. He knew he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose but he also knew an accident could happen so easily. His guilt would never let him find peace again if he hurt her.

“Wait, those are claws?”, she asked in an unexpected tone. No one has ever looked at these claws with a tone like this one. She looks genuinely curious and a bit… impressed. Her hands gently held his and she asked:

“May I?”

Miguel was genuinely too flabbergasted to even make a coherent sentence so he simply nodded his head while her fingers traced the lines on his palm. The feeling of it tingled him a bit and he squirmed a little. Not that he was uncomfortable but every contact skin to skin with her had this effect on him. In the silence of the room, he could hear his heart beating in his ears.

She was studying every detail of his hands, from the rough fingertips to the veins on them. One of his hands could easily hold both of hers and the skin on them was warm, just like a small personal heater. When her fingers brushed against his fingertips, one of his claws came out. He hated the fact that even after all these years, he couldn’t sometimes control them perfectly. Usually he did a great job at holding them back but he needed to stay absolutely focused in order to do so. And with her being so close and her breath hitting his skin did nothing to help his focus.

“You’re not scared?”

“Why would I be scared?”, she replied in the most genuine tone, almost making his heart melt. If he hadn’t already been on his knees in front of her, he would have fallen to his knees.

“Because...I could hurt you…”

A gentle smile cured up her lips and she brought his hand closer to her face. When she began kissing his fingertips, Miguel was left breathless, almost shaking. No one had even treated his body with such care after his transformation, and not his claws out of all the spots on him.

“You could never hurt me, Miguel…”

***

Miguel’s hands couldn’t stop shaking as he slipped them under the fabric of her top, feeling the smooth and soft skin of her belly. In fact his whole body was shaking and he felt like he needed to calm himself, to pull back just a little. But it was impossible. They had been waiting so long for this moment, he couldn’t let it go.

They were stripping each other off their clothes with a growing urgency. The cold air of the room brushed against his burning skin and he felt like he won’t be able to survive this moment. His body was burning hot like a furnace and he needed to release all this pent-up tension as soon as possible. Every muscles under his skin rippled, tensed and locked while he tried to hold himself back.

When the last piece of clothing had disappeared from his body, she looked up at him and Miguel swore he could have died right on the spot. It was worth waiting this long for the look of awe she was arboring.

“You’re gonna be the death of me…”, she whispered in a breathy voice and Miguel’s vision almost turned blurry the moment she touched him.

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes, I do.”

***

She was slowly waking up when she felt something sliding along her waist. Miguel’s strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. It was barely 8 in the morning and he was already acting this way. She loved it.

“Hi.”

She felt his breath warming up the shell of his ear and her chest tightened when she remembered all the things he has whispered to her the night before. And all the other nights… She had stopped counting them but Miguel didn’t. He even remembered clearly every one of these moments they’ve shared together and he could have easily told them apart.

“Hi.”, she replied in a sleepy voice and that triggered something deep inside him. His hand left her waist and slides up and down her body, his fingertips gently tapping against her skin. Miguel’s face nuzzled against her neck and he proceeded to leave a trail of sloppy kisses all over her skin, from her ear to her shoulder. Her hair brushed against his face and he was close to let himself be suffocated by those locks.

When his hand slipped under the hem of nightdress, she shifted her body, trying to get him off her.

“Miguel...we already talked about this…”

“Please, just five minutes…”

“You said that the last time and I ended up being late…”, she lazily protested. The weight of his body was making her sink down the mattress and despite how good it felt, she knew she had to act upon this. She gently pushed him back and he obliged, after leaving one last kiss on her upper arm.

“I have to go to work…”, she said with so little enthusiasm that Miguel just wanted to pull her back into his arms.

“I know, bebita, I know.”

“Then maybe, you could let go off my dress, please?”, she replied with a cheeky grin. Miguel finally reluctantly let go off her. His arm stayed on her empty side of the bed, taking in her warmth and the scent she had left on the pillow. She grabbed her clothes on the floor and was about to go for the bathroom when she noticed his sulky face and the way he was running his fingers along the mattress.

When she leaned against him and placed a kiss on his lips, Miguel’s face immediately lit up.

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

***

There have never been a ‘tonight’, nor a ‘tomorrow’.

There have only been this day ever since.

Miguel will never forget it as it plays on repeat in his head, again and again.

***

First, there has been confusion. And then, denial. When he saw the whole world around him unraveling, he only had one question in his mind. Where were they?

Gabriella was at a game’s rehearsal but her… She should have been on her way to work by now… He couldn’t be less sure of it. Wait, didn’t she say she needed to get something at her place first?

Miguel remembers running as fast as he could. The door was still open and when he entered the small apartment, his heart sunk down his chest. It looked like madness. All the colors of the room were mixing together in a dreadful mix of shades. All the precious stuff she had accumulated over the years were gone, disappearing faster than he could even register it. But the worst was yet to come.

She was laying there, on the ground, the lower half of her body was slowly disappearing into what looked like a myriad of pixels. Her cat pushed a last meow and vanished as it it had been blown by the wind, as if it was nothing.

Miguel had only seen her this scared once before. It was that day on the train. Tears were running down her ethereal face as she was suffocating for air. Miguel knelt down by her side and immediately wrapped his arms around the last remains of her body. The pixels were growing and going higher on her with every breath she took.

He remembers that he had cried, that he wanted to tell her so many things… But all he managed to say was screaming “No” in denial. He couldn’t lose everything right now, not after he finally managed to find happiness. She couldn’t disappear like that. He remembers holding her in his arms almost an hour ago and she was fine. Her body was still whole, it was real and she was his just like he was hers.

“Please, don’t leave me! Don’t go!”

No plead could stop that. Her body was being consumed and he had no clue about what was creating this. She cupped his face one last time, begging him to let go, to go look for Gabriella, to make sure she was safe… She knew it was too late for her. And Miguel knew she was right. After that, everything happened so quickly. He remembers the taste of their last kiss, bitter like his tears as she vanished into the void.

***

Miguel already thought that his heart was broken at this point.

That nothing could ever compete with this moment.

And then he lost Gabriella.

In his arms.

He saw her vanish, he heard her last cries of terror and sensed the despair in her eyes.

He had failed her.

He had hurt them.

***

Miguel gave one last look at the screen in front of him. His office was dimly lit and he could watch on one of his giant screens one of his favorite memories.

Gabriella had won one of her games that day and she was hugging him. Gosh, he looked so proud of her and he certainly was. He took her in his arms, made her swirl around while she kept on laughing. Her little nose was scrunching up, just like every time she would smile.

When he finally put her down and looked up at the camera filming them, his smile became charming and his eyes lit up.

He could see himself talking at the person behind the camera, his voice warm and filled with nothing but longing.

And every time the Miguel from the present heard the voice talking back, he would finally let go of the tears he was holding back.

================================================

Notes: Thanks for everyone who read this story. I hope you all enjoyed it.

I’ll be posting less things this month because of college but I’m not forgetting mu dbf! Fiction and I’m already working on the next parts.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv #across the spiderverse #fanfic #atsv miguel #spiderverse #miguel 2099 #miguel angst #miguel o'hara angst #Spotify

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