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neiptune · 4 months ago

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i don't want you like a best friend

cw: 4.2k wc, female reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, tendo may be the only person in the world without a mark and it's quite hard to convince him that, most times, the universe doesn't know shit

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I ever tasted”.

“Don’t lie”.

“I’m not!”.

Tendo narrows his eyes, unimpressed.

“You said that about the last five bonbons”.

“Listen, the one with port and cinnamon was great n’all but this is a cookie dough brown butter bonbon. I’m blown away. I want to sleep with this one. I want to buy it dinner and then take it to bed”.

That’s when Satori laughs, loud and boisterous as he still allows himself to be around you. It makes you smile, seeing him happy.

“Tell me the secret to crafting these”.

“Again?”, he snorts, “I already explained the process a million times”.

“Wanna hear it again. I like how you talk about it”.

“Okay, weirdo”, there’s fondness and a silent invitation in the way he pushes the little box of his latest experiments towards you.

It’s soothing, comforting, listening to instructions you’re already familiar with. Tendo goes over how important it is to choose flavors that are fun and still be attentive enough to make sure the chocolate stands on its own: flavoring components should never completely ride over it. He skillfully exercises subtlety when coming up with new combinations, always keeps the interior so creamy and smooth the treat ends up melting in a delicious puddle on one’s tongue. The outer layer should never be too thick, chalky or cakey: that’s why he prefers to form most of the chocolates with his hands instead of using a mold.

There’s creativity involved in what he does but there’s also science. It requires a lot of patience, most of his work is made of tedious steps repeated over and over again within specific time limits and a perfectly calculated temperature. It fits him, you believe: Tendo’s always been diligent and persevering, no matter what the world threw at him.

He puts a lot of work in his boxes too, especially the ones he has to ship. They’re all triple-insulated, double-stuffed and always perfectly packed. A cute, colorful thank you card always goes hand in hand with each purchase, if he receives orders for a birthday or a special gift he’d even write a personal note as an addition. As a foreigner, it hasn't been easy to establish himself as a reliable chocolatier in a city like Paris, but he now has a pretty loyal clientele and the shop is basically never empty.

“That one’s my favorite”, Satori’s eyes zero on the bite-sized bonbon you’ve picked from the box.

You hum, appreciating the way the chocolate melts in your mouth. It’s not as good as the previous one but you recognize the artistry with which the flavors fuse with each other, chocolate ganache with clementine and hazelnuts, just a hint of lemon zest.

“They’re all incredible, ‘Tori. You’re very talented”. Tendo smiles.

“Thank you”, he mutters, grateful, “now, can we talk about it?”.

“There’s nothing to talk about”, you dangle your legs from the counter of the little production kitchen in the back of his boutique shop, closed for the day. It’s incredibly tidy, smells of soap and citrus.

“You impulsively booked a flight across the world because of a guy”.

Ouch.

“I flew across the world to visit my best friend”, you scowl, “thought he’d be happy to see me”.

“I’m fucking ecstatic, ma chérie”, it’s probably the happiest he’s been in years, “but we need to talk about it. Tell me what’s on your mind?”.

He can see the bags under your eyes, the usual brightness missing from your smile, playful vibration to your jokes absent. He knows you’re hurting and while he’d be thrilled to keep you in Paris for as long as you wish, Tendo has to know what’s broken before he even attempts to mend it. His gaze falls on a specific portion of skin of your wrist and a sigh slips past his lips.

“He broke up with me”, you articulate slowly, “said we weren’t compatible. Said it’s safer to abandon the delusional ideas that drew us close to each other and do things how they’re supposed to be done. According to the plan”, there’s a grimace on your face that pairs well with how you spit out the last words.

“Did you show him?”.

“No, you know I don’t do that anymore. He didn’t see mine and I never wanted to see his. He agreed to that”.

“Right”.

“And then, I don’t know, he did what everyone always does. Changed his mind”.

Satori sighs. Truthfully, he’s always been a little sad about your mark being permanently covered with thick foundation, concealer or whatever else. It’s been years. He misses seeing the little crooked triangle on your wrist.

“Well, maybe…”, he starts but is soon interrupted by a loud scoff.

“Don’t”.

“But they’re not wrong. The universe has it all layed out for you, maybe it’s time you stop being so stubborn”.

“I don’t care about the universe, Satori. The universe is not going to take away that choice from me, it should belong to me. I don’t want to be destined to someone, I want to be chosen by them”.

He deflates in the plastic chair he’s sitting on. Can’t really argue with that logic.

Ever since middle school, when your mark first appeared, you never wanted to succumb to the whole the cosmos has already decided who the perfect person for me is bullshit. You simply can’t accept giving up the freedom of falling in love with whoever you wish to pursue, regardless of the universe agreeing or not. That’s why you never really cared about matching marks and all that jazz, always dated those who seemed not to care either. But after a number of failed relationships, it became painfully obvious that deep down, everyone always believes marks are the real deal. It’s why you decided you never wanted to see the mark of the next guys you’d date, and certainly didn’t want to show yours anymore. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember it’s still there, underneath stubborn layers of concealer. You hated it your whole life.

“You’re right. It’s your life, you should live it however you see fit”, they’re idiots for giving up on someone like you in the name of a dumb sign or whatever anyway.

“I thought you’d understand this more than anyone, you’ve always hidden your mark too. I don’t even know what it looks like and it’s okay! It’s yours! Shouldn’t belong to anyone else’s prying eyes”, you pick another chocolate truffle from the special box he’s sorted for you. It’s red velvet flavored.

Tendo insisted on calling his shop like that, rouge velours, deaf to the literal translation not being entirely correct. The french need to associate the word gâteau to it, it has to be a red velvet cake. But he didn’t care, adamant in going with just red velvet.

It was a joke you had blurted out at the end of high school, sitting on the curb outside your favorite konbini on the way home, another summer evening made of snacks shared underneath the street lamps. Satori said he wanted to move to France and learn how to make handmade chocolates, open a shop and everything. You suggested it should’ve been called red velvet, would’ve paired well with his hair. It never crossed your mind that he would take your suggestion seriously.

Frankly, Tendo’s not changed much since high school. He’s a little taller, broader in the shoulders, prefers a buzz cut. He’s still cheerful, less loud if you’re not around, enjoys singing made up tunes to himself while he works, occasionally takes part in volleyball games when neighbors or friends from the gym invite him. More than anything, he’s still the kindest, most generous friend one could have.

You used to be a little jealous of Ushijima, never one to accept easily to be downgraded in the best friends ranking system. As a teenager, it was hard to acknowledge that Satori’s heart is simply big enough to fit everyone he cares about in there. Not many people realized how much of an honor that was anyway, so there was plenty of space.

He still calls Ushijima to check up on him and the fact that they declared to be best friends during a television show didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth as it would’ve back then. Wakatoshi is a nice guy, it definitely grew on you and it now gives you comfort knowing that Satori gets to throw the blanket of his affection over more than one person’s shoulders.

Not a day goes by without missing him, different time zones making it even more complicated to keep up with each other. Yet, he’s always the one willing to stay up late to talk to you, insists that while you work in the morning, he enjoys crafting chocolates in the middle of the night. That hardly matters, since you know he has to wake up early to open the shop.

“Hard to hide something you don’t have”, he grins from where he’s sitting, in front of you. Your dangling legs come to a halt.

“What?”.

“I don’t have a mark”, Satori shrugs, “not a big deal”.

“That’s impossible”.

“You’ve seen me naked”.

“Because you didn’t lock the damn bathroom door!”, your face heats up at the memory belonging to so many years ago. He snickers.

“Well, if I had a mark you’d know!”.

You pause, incredulous.

“Did you check your nails? Maybe it was in your hair and you shaved it off. Everyone has a mark!”.

“I don’t have it”, he knows, he’s checked every inch of his body for too long before giving up, “don’t act so shocked, it makes perfect sense”.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”.

Satori shrugs, a timid smile on his lips.

“I’m damaged goods. I wouldn’t expect to be the right fit for anyone, the universe decided to spare me and a potential unfortunate match the embarrassment”.

To him, it’s perfectly normal that there’s no one right for him out there. Or rather, that he’s not the right person for anyone. Who would want that, anyway? The guy who’s always been too weird to be looked at normally. The guy who always stands out the wrong way. If the universe has decided to be merciful enough to spare him the disappointment flashing over someone’s face upon discovering that he’s their soulmate, the only thing Tendo should feel is gratitude.

“Don’t say shit like that ever again, Satori. Damaged goods? What the hell? You’re the best person I know!”, you almost throw the chocolate box at his head, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. Anyone. I’m certain you’re the perfect match for a lot of people but I find it very hard to believe they’d deserve you anyway”.

You’re his best friend, you’re supposed to say all that. Yet, kept silent by that fiery glare of yours, Tendo can’t help but feel his chest warm up.

He didn’t necessarily have a crush on you in high school, that’s what he told himself anyway. When you started going out with Eita, part of him was relieved you went for someone normal. His teammate fell into the right category: Semi was attractive, had good grades, knew his way around girls. It was a good reminder of what Tendo wanted for you, of what you deserved. He cared deeply about your happiness and would’ve went to impossible lengths to shield you from all the bad there was in the world. That still hasn’t changed. Your best friend was what he was always destined to be and it was more than what he could’ve asked for, anyway.

And so it wouldn’t have been right to fantasize, to admit to himself that for the first time ever since he was a kid, Tendo wished to be the opposite of what he was. He dreamed of a different childhood, school days filled with friends, practice bursting with laughter instead of whispers, not a reason in the world to direct him curious or grossed out stares. He wished he was handsome, charismatic, funny in a way that made girls laugh in sincere amusement instead of discomfort. He wanted so badly to be everything he was not, for you.

When he admitted to himself that he loved you, deeply, ferociously, in a way that would’ve scared off any other human being, high school was over and so was his volleyball dream. Another fantasy coming to an end. Satori announced he wanted to move to Paris, expecting life, distance, a different time zone, your boyfriends, to make the friendship too heavy of a task to keep up with.

And yet, you stayed by his side. Most importantly, you wanted him to stay by yours. Tendo has never been much used to the feeling of being wanted, his presence wasn’t exactly desired by other people throughout his life. But you and Paris both taught him that maybe he does have something to give, something people can be willing to accept. So what if that something isn’t romantic love? He’s already luckier than he ever imagined he would get. He’s going to be okay, as long as you’re his friend. He’ll manage.

“Satori”, you snap him back to reality, “I mean it. Fuck the universe”.

Honestly, the only thing he’s mad at the universe for is making you so deeply unhappy. Tendo’s not sure he can forgive the cosmos for failing you so many times.

“Yeah”, he agrees lightly, “fuck the universe”.

Maybe Tendo had a point when he referred to your little vacation as ‘impulsive’, given that you never really travelled outside of Japan before. Yet, what initially was an easy escape from your disappointing reality and a wonderful excuse to finally visit your best friend, soon turned into a delightful adventure.

You reciprocated Satori’s hospitality by being as useful as possible: you’d keep his place tidy and clean, get groceries, cook dinner. He’d insist on ordering out, would try to snatch the vacuum cleaner from your hand, sometimes Tendo would come home later than usual with his hands filled with groceries just so that you didn’t feel like you needed to refill the fridge. But you liked being there and you loved taking care of him, especially since he vehemently refused to go back to sleeping in his bed and offering you the couch instead.

On his rare free days, Satori gladly gives you a tour of the city and his favorite places. When he’s working, you’d explore Paris on your own, the little map he drew by hand safely nestled in your pocket. Yes, you obviously have a phone, but the map makes each stroll all the more special.

Being with him and feeling genuinely appreciated, in a city so wonderful and far away from home, made you realize that perhaps the universe got it all wrong. Maybe there’s no one out there with a mark similar to yours. Maybe you’re not a match for romantic love in the first place. You’re already lucky enough as it is, with a friend so wonderful you can share lovely dinners with over episodes of silly tv shows, in a tiny apartment filled with affection and laughter. It’s the best you’ve felt in years and the idea of leaving has never felt as dreadful.

But everyone has to get back to their life eventually: there’s your job, bills, rent, you haven’t visited your parents in a while. All these things you’re having a real hard time caring about as Tendo offers another glass of wine, the bottle you’re sharing practically empty resting by his feet.

It’s your last night in Paris and he insisted on cooking for once, a full course dinner paired with an expensive Clos de la Roche. Notes of woods and cherries dance on your tongue when you take another sip and you shut your eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. How did you end up on his bedroom’s floor anyway? Was it him who suggested sitting on the carpet with your backs pressed against his bed? No, you’re almost certain it was you. Satori tries to be less weird as a grown up, by his own admission: he leaves odd suggestions and ideas to other people, too busy trying to fit in now.

You find yourself observing his profile as he torpidly blinks, his own gaze focused on the hands holding his glass. The line of his jaw, the perfect curve of his nose. You think he’s pretty, spiky hair no longer there to tear away one’s attention from his features.

“Did you date a lot, here?”, you ask, genuinely curious. He turns to look at you, amused.

“A lot? When did I ever date a lot?”, Tendo chuckles to himself but you recognize the hurt simmering underneath the humor. It hurts you, too.

“Well, did you date?”, your impatience feels surprising but there’s no time to dwell upon unfamiliar feelings, not as Satori hums with a lethargic nod.

“Yeah, a few times”.

“They didn’t ask about your mark?”.

Tendo’s lips twitch as he remembers how ecstatic the women he went out with were upon finding out that not only his mark didn’t match theirs, he didn’t even have one to begin with. He was the safest option they could ever date, no risk of forever.

“It’s easier to date someone you know you’re not gonna end up with”, he shrugs, “they felt more comfortable, it was fun and momentary, thus risk-free”.

You click your tongue in disapproval and Tendo cocks his head, confused by your scowl.

“They, they, they. I always hated this about you, you’re always focusing on what other people think. I want to know, how did you feel?”.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that you’re about to become a fugitive presence in his life once more, but for once Satori feels like huffing out his frustration.

“Like shit”, he admits with a sly smile, “I could fall for just about anyone and I’ll always know they’re not my person. I won’t ever have a person and it makes me feel like shit”.

You’re not sure why tears are suddenly pricking the corners of your eyes. Maybe it’s because it’s really hard to remember the last time Satori allowed himself to be vulnerable around you. It always felt like he talked more to Wakatoshi, man to man or whatever. You never felt like you could be fully there for him and now it’s almost too late again, only a few hours before you fly off to the other side of the world.

“I hate them”, you murmur, “it’s just cruel. You’re not supposed to be anyone’s temporary fixing”.

“I’m not ever going to be anything but that”.

“No, Satori-”, in the process of positioning yourself better in order to face him, you kick the not entirely empty glass previously resting by your leg. It’s gonna leave a stain but you’ll find a way to take care of it before you leave, this is more urgent. This requires you taking your friend’s face into your hands, to bring it closer to your determined gaze. “That’s not true. The universe doesn’t know shit, okay? I know you. You don’t need a fucking mark. In fact, you know what? I’m happy you don’t have one. Thank god. I-”, he gently puts his hands over yours and leans over to tenderly kiss your forehead. Your train of thought derails as he fixes you with an amused, fond stare.

“It’s okay. Really”, Tendo lowers your hands and then leaves them cold, head falling to the side, cheek pressed to the orange duvet cover of his bed. You’re pouting, looking more beautiful than ever underneath the dim lights of his room, and so he can’t hold his tongue.

“You know, I find it incredible that you haven’t been able to find your person yet, universe or not. How’s it possible that someone as wonderful as you is being dumped by complete idiots just because they believe in some stupid pre-decided romantic assignation?”.

You mirror his position and rest your head on the softness of his bed. Despite being still on the floor, it almost feels as if you’re lying next to each other.

“They don’t believe I’m wonderful. I guess I’m just momentary, too”.

He scoffs. Deep down, Tendo also believes everyone should be granted the freedom to pursue their desired relationship, especially you. Don’t they know how lucky they are? You ignore destiny to give those dumbasses a chance and they leave before they even get to realize what they’re missing out upon.

“I think marks are bullshit”, Satori gently takes your hand and traces your fingers with his own slowly, eyes still boring into yours, “in a world with no marks, they’d be on their knees thanking their lucky star you showed interest in them at all”.

You hum, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Before Tendo interrupted your little motivational speech, you were about to tell him why it makes you happy that he doesn’t have a mark after all. Looking at him now, it’s all the more clear. It’s horrible and selfish and childish but, this way, you will never have to go through it: you’ll never have to find out that the one person who’s always been by your side, the one person who knows you better than you know yourself and still manages to love you, also isn’t the one.

Tendo is the greatest person you know, the only one you’d trust with your life. His heart is your favorite part of him: always stayed big enough to fit in all those who asked for access, kindness embedded so deep within him he never let the world’s cruelty affect it. Satori never stored an ounce of that nastiness people loved oh so much throwing at him, it let it become an armor instead. Steel made of insults, cruel jokes, mockery. It breaks your heart that he still wears it. It would break your heart to discover that someone like him isn’t destined to be yours after all, that the universe wouldn’t be benevolent enough to assign the best friend you ever had as your soulmate.

“You don’t mean that”.

You blink, slowly, actually fighting to keep your eyes open.

“What?”.

“What you just said. You’re drunk”, he chuckles quietly and, horrifyingly, you realize your mouth decided to voice those thoughts out loud.

The shock lasts a few seconds. Tendo is no longer fiddling with your fingers but your hand is still in his and the more you look into those crimson irises, the less uncomfortable you feel about what you just said. Is it the wine or is it just right?

“You think I wouldn’t be happy if the universe assigned you as my soulmate?”.

“I think you wouldn’t hate it”, Tendo softly ponders, “but that’d be far from ideal”.

“Hey, you don’t get to decide that. Me and the universe would be agreeing for once”.

Satori swears his heart skips a bit. All those years, all that badly harbored hope, the entirety of his restraint crumbling pathetically after a few drops of expensive wine. You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that.

“You could look at me like that?”, the question is supposed to underline how ridiculous the idea is, but he realizes he just sounds wishful.

“I know you think it’d be hard but it really isn’t”, you laugh softly. You’re looking at him like that right now. As you abstendmindedly play with his fingers, thumb gently rubbing circles on the skin of his wrist, you appreciate the pink dusting his cheeks, the slightly furrowed brows, the sweetness of his questioning gaze.

Tendo exhales slowly. Neither of you is resting their head on his bed anymore, too captivated by each other. “I’m not sure I’d survive the discovery of you of all people, not being the one I’d be destined to stand with for the rest of my life. Because what a waste would be, for that person to be someone else”, it’s nothing but a whisper, raw honesty doing something funny to his stomach as it slips past his lips for the first time. There’s no one but you, honestly. He knows there’ll never be anyone else. The universe has planned love for those around him and an eternal curse for his heart.

“A terrible waste”, you agree and the hand not busy interlacing your fingers with his, suddenly closes around the soft fabric of his hoodie to bring him closer. Satori doesn’t dare move, let alone breathe, effectively paralyzed by the idea of indulging something you’ll regret the second it happens.

Except you don’t. When you kiss him, tentative at first, all the pieces fall right into place. Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile as the world slows down. Then finally, finally, he kisses you back. It’s deeper, a hand pressing to your cheek, it’s corrodingly tender and you feel yourself melting into his touch, into the genuine reverence he holds for you.

Tendo feels something unravel from within, the tangles and knots of hurt, uncertainty, combust and disappear into thin ashes. He’s too lost in the moment, too drunk on how close you’re holding him as your tongue brushes against his own, to pay any attention to the itchy feeling over the skin of his wrist. Right where your thumb is pressing, a crooked triangle appears at last.

#tendo x reader #satori tendo x reader #tendo x you #satori tendo x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader

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shoku-and-awe · 2 years ago

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@myriadplethorae, thank you, friend! Do you think this would also work on a recipe like this?

Once I got over the shock of these cookies looking nothing like the picture, they were absolutely delicious! A little cakier than my preference, and they might make you crave lemon bars, but lovely.

The recipe says that to achieve the crackly texture on top, you need to coat the dough balls with as much sugar as you possibly can, but I coated them as much as humanly possible about three times and still didn’t manage it. Next time I’d take the advice of chilling the dough balls after rolling them and see if it helps to do the powdered sugar while they’re cold.

#they are both ball cookies #(rather than roll out cookies)#but the gochujang ones have a crisp/chewy sugar cookie texture #versus these cakey-type lemon ones

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followmybadreligion · 11 months ago

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"Je te laisserai des mot"

a valentine’s day date with your sweet, sweet boyfriend.

“Hyunjin, come here.” You called as you dusted your hands free of the white, cakey flour that’d made a thin coat over them. Your voice bounced off the tall walls of your apartment and played back in your head like a loud, jarring record that disturbed the once quiet, peaceful atmosphere, and you immediately regret not just going to get him.

In front of you sat a large bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough, which you’d spent the better half of the morning preparing– from scratch. On the side of that lay two pink, heart-shaped baking trays, one for you and one for him. You’d already coated them in butter (The only non-stick agent you had) and sprinkled a thin layer of brown sugar across them, and now all that was left for you to do was preheat the oven.

“Three seventy-five,” you whispered to yourself, spinning away from your work to assess the settings on your oven. It was brand new, much like the rest of the place, but the controls were easy enough to work with the typical dials traded for a sleek screen. You tapped it once and waited for it to illuminate before pressing the “Bake” option promoted on its right side and setting it properly.

A small smile spread across your lips as you looked at the cute, white fixture nestled among brown cabinets with tops of beige wood. Its once-dark interior lit up with an orange hue, courtesy of the heating panel built into the bottom, and you could just barely feel the heat begin to radiate from it. Just a few minutes before you’d be able to get your treats in there and baking— that was if Hyun were to hurry.

You moved over a few feet to an empty counter space, lifting yourself onto it and crossing your legs over one another as you waited. The wood was warm underneath your exposed thighs, pressing into you firmly enough to leave marks for sure. You giggled as you thought of his reaction to seeing you like this. More than likely, he’d be a little surprised at the sight— you, in his Dear Daniel tee, your panties and socks, and virtually nothing else, lightly dusted with flour and sugar— it’d be a trip for sure. But knowing him, he’d love it. He always loved seeing you in his clothes, and he loved seeing you work on your hobbies even more.

From your spot on the counter, you had the perfect view from one of the living room windows to the incoming sunrise. The sky swirled with beautiful shades of orange and pink, contrasted with the masses of gray and yellow underneath it. Skyscrapers, hoards of cars, lively apartment units— all of it did little to dull the beauty of the new day, and you took a few minutes to bask in it.

You could faintly make out the sound of beeping, rushing cars, even from how high up your flat was, but somehow that only added to the ambiance— warmth enveloping you at all sides, a show of such pretty colors, and the sound of what felt the most like home— Seoul.

But oh, this moment would be so much better with your boy.

You sighed deeply, realizing it’d been a good few minutes since you’d called his name and he still hadn’t answered. You turned towards the oven again, catching sight of the pink, square-shaped clock resting above it on the spice rack. It read 6:34, which was no surprise to you with the sunrise and all. What was a surprise, however, was that Hyunjin still wasn’t up. Normally, he’d already be at the window with his sketch pad, drawing whatever subject had come to mind (It was almost always you) while he sipped away on his coffee or tea of the morning.

You pushed yourself to the edge of the counter, allowing yourself to slide over the edge and onto your feet before you took off towards the stairs of your loft. The railing– a black, thin fixture– was crisp and loud under your touch, prompting you to let go of it as you climbed the remainder of the stairs. You wanted to wake him as softly and sweetly as possible, especially today.

A soft smile adorned your lips as you approached your bedroom, eyes locking on the adorable sight that was your boyfriend. He was sprawled out over the bed, arms clutching your pillow to his chest in his sleep. His face rested on your other one, buried under a mess of long, dark hair, but from what you could make out— his pink, swollen lips and red, flushed cheeks— he was sleeping peacefully. Several large windows fixed across the space poured in more of that golden hue, making him seem even more angelic than he was, and for a moment, you just wished you could draw as well as him.

“Honey,” you called, this time a lot softer as you approached his resting figure. He hummed softly in response, but his eyes still didn’t open.

Crawling into bed next to him, you grabbed the pillow he clung to and pulled it away to catch his attention. He whined at your antics, stirring more as he reached for something else to hold.

“You gotta wake up now.” You said through a smile of pure admiration. He looked so cute to you like this, and there was little you could do to stop your hands from coming up and fanning through his pretty locks. You started at the front, lightly combing away the strands that obscured his pretty face— a face sculpted by some Greek god whom you’d thank every day for the rest of your life. Then, you brought your hands back to gently fluff up the rest of his mane, giggling at how he whined more under your touch.

“I have a surprise for you.”

He blew out a deep breath, eyes clamping shut for a few seconds as he struggled to wake up fully. After a few more moments of silence, his eyes opened in a squint, dark brown irises magnified by light tears. He didn’t speak and opened his mouth in a wide “O” shape, letting out a soft yawn that only made your heart grow softer.

“What surprise?” he whispered, hands coming up to wipe the sleep out of his face.

“You’ll have to come with me to see.” You whispered back, beginning to raise yourself from the bed.

His touch against your thigh immediately halted your actions, the warm sensation sending a small jolt of electricity up your body. It was jarring— the feeling of his hand squeezing into you— but it was also incredibly welcomed, and you immediately allowed yourself to sink back into the plush surface beneath you.

“Wait,” his voice was soft but raspy, still stale from the lack of use overnight, “Will you lay here with me for a few more seconds, please?”

“Baby, I-” but before you could finish your sentence, he was pulling you into his bare, broad chest and laying back down with you.

“Just a few more minutes.”

You weren’t sure how long you spent nestled in Hyunjin’s arms before you realized you’d still had that oven on. While the boy rested peacefully above you, you slid out of his grasp as swiftly as possible, as you knew he’d only pull you back if he were to wake.

Then, you were back downstairs, without your boy, right at square one.

You sighed as you glanced around at the setting you’d created for the two of you: mugs of hot chocolate (That’d long gone cold) with heart-shaped marshmallows floating in it, festive cookware, pink and white candles, your Polaroid loaded with red and white film; a cute baking date for the two of you to bring in Valentine’s day, and yet you couldn’t get him down here.

Sunrise had long since passed, and now, a pale, white light poured into your kitchen, adding a lighter feel to the scene you’d set. It still looked just as pretty to you, even though you hadn’t envisioned it like this, and you were itching for Hyunjin to see it as well.

You racked your brain for what to do, contemplating going up and trying to get him a second time before your eyes ghosted over the light pink vinyl player you’d set up when you were decorating. You immediately walked over to it, looking through the few records you sat out. Most were by Lana Del Rey, a guilty pleasure of Hyunjin’s, though he never seemed too guilty. The only one that was different was one with a brown and beige cover, depicting a man and woman who you could only assume were from the Victorian age. The man was on his knees, facing away from an unknown woman who used his capped head as an armrest or a leaning post. The image of the two was encased by dark, interlinking tiles, snaking from one end of the vinyl to the other, leaving a space at the bottom where you’d penned in a simple titled: “Je te laisserai des mot.”

After lifting the needle, you slid the vinyl from its casing and delicately placed it on the player, taking a second to wipe away any dust that’d settled on it. Then, you dropped the needle to its proper position, lifted the volume slider to its maximum setting, and pressed play.

The melodic humming of a man filled your mind immediately, accompanied by the few keys of a piano. The feeling fluttering through your heart was hard to explain; it was lovely, like a mix of bliss and happiness that possessed you as you melted into the chords, but there was also a sense of pain and longing etched into it.

Your eyes clamped shut as the song forged on, his humming growing quiet as a symphony of strings and piano overtook him. When you first saw the record, you thought that perhaps you’d left it out by mistake. You’d always found it to be a particularly romantic song, and it did remind you of Hyun, but part of you felt as if it were too sad to play at a moment like this. However, now you could see why you’d chosen to leave it out.

When you listened to it, moments that you and he had shared flashed through your mind like pretty scenes from a movie: driving in the rain with your hands intertwined, slow dancing in the living room as the city lights shined on you, staring at each other until you both got shy and laughed the feeling away: all those beautiful things that the two of you had done moving by like a montage. But you didn’t want the moment you two were about to share to be a part of that; you wanted it to be the scene itself.

Just as the symphony faded and the man’s voice bled back in, you began to hear shuffling from upstairs, which snapped you from your sudden idleness.

You turned to the two mugs of cocoa and put them into the microwave to heat for a few minutes, excitement coursing through you.

The song continued to lull in the background, the man’s words echoing through your head.

Je te laisserai des mot

“I will leave you with notes,” you translated out in your head. You didn’t speak French, no, but you’d listened to the song so often that you made it a point to look up translations of the lyrics, and you now knew just about everything he sang by heart.

En-dessous de ta porte

“Underneath your door.”

En-dessous de les murs qui chantent

“Underneath the singing walls.”

You began to sing along with the lyrics lowly, admiring the way your voice seemed to blend in with the silkiness of the singers. At the same time, you could hear how Hyunjin shuffled out of bed, taking a few seconds before he walked towards the stairs. He paused at the top of the case for a few beats, almost as if to get a better listen, before hurriedly skipping down them two steps at a time.

You looked his way, smile gleaming as you took note of his disheveled state. Despite your smoothing earlier, his hair was back to being a mess, some of it making a curtain over his eyes while the rest swooped and curled about. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the several love bites you’d given him the night before were very visible, making your cheeks heat a bit. The most amusing part of it all, though, was the boy’s face. Even with his tired appearance, his eyes were wide with shock and excitement, and his lips formed a small circle as he analyzed the kitchen for himself.

“You did all of this, baby?” He finally quipped after a few seconds of staring. You couldn’t suppress your giggle as you moved to stop the microwave, gently grabbing the handles of the mugs and placing them on the counter.

“Of course I did.” You replied, walking towards him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my boy.”

A soft smile spread across his face at your words, and he began to walk towards you, meeting you in the middle and wrapping you up in his arms without a second thought. You could feel how fast his heart was beating against you, the beat so clear with your head against his chest. Even after dating for so long, being that close to you never failed to make him nervous.

“I love you.” He whispered, breaking the brief silence that’d settled between you. His hands squeezed your waist tighter at his statement, and you could feel how bated his breath was as the words left his mouth– almost like he was scared.

You paused for a second, giving yourself the time to pour over his words. He’d told you that so many times. So, so many times, yet it caught you by surprise each one.

You pulled back for a second and ran your hands down from his neck to his bare chest, allowing them to rest there as you looked up at him.

The song still hummed in the background, a soft, melodic humming drifting through the air as the two of you gazed upon each other. You fought against yourself, wanting nothing more but to press your lips against his and pour as much of your love into as him could, but you knew that you couldn’t. He knew what it felt like. He needed to hear it now.

“Hyunjin,” you started, watching as his eyes widened a bit as he became more eager to hear what you’d say, “there aren’t words strong enough to describe the way I feel about you.”

“I mean…I need you.” You continued, tilting your head slightly as you moved your hands up to play in his hair. His eyes blinked closed a few times at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp, causing you to giggle a bit, before he diverted his attention back towards you.

“I adore you.” A blissful smile crossed his face at that, eyes crinkling at the sides.

You inched your face closer to his, standing up on your tippy toes in an effort to level with him more.

“I love you, baby.” You finally whispered, voice as smooth as honey. “I love you so much.”

And with that, your lips were against his.

“What’d you write on yours?” You questioned, looking over only for him to shield his pan with his arm.

“Not yet!” He exclaimed, lowering his face closer to his work as he moved the piping bag along as slowly and carefully as he could.

“Hyunjin…” you whined, tapping his arm slightly to his panic. You’d long been done with decorating and were now standing off to the side, sipping on your second mug of hot cocoa of the morning.

You knew how particular Hyun was when it came to his art, and it was always something that you admired, but it was killing you that he was being so secretive, especially because you hadn’t expected him to take it that seriously. It was food coloring and frosting after all. Not oil canvases and watercolors. What was taking him so long?

You shifted away for a second towards the record player again, noticing how Lana’s dreamy voice had faded out and the record was starting from the beginning once again. You flicked the pause button and lifted the needle, bringing your finger down onto the vinyl and letting it scape against its surface as it came to a stop.

“Do me a favor, please.” Hyunjin pipped up.

You paused, looking back at him as you waited for him to continue.

“Play our song.” This time he looked back, piping bag in hand as he met your gaze.

You threw him a soft smile before you turned back, putting the first vinyl away and grabbing the all-too-familiar beige cover.

For the fourth time that morning, you loaded it onto the player and began to play it, humming softly as you did so. Hyunjin joined in, voice softer than yours, but still there. He always did that when you sang– joined in with you, softly enough to hear you, but loud enough to let you know he was there.

Just as the man’s voice began to fade in, Hyunjin broke away from the song, and whispered a simple, “Come here, baby.”

You did as he asked, sitting your mug down on the counter in front of you and turning to approach him. You rested your head against his shoulder, one arm draping across his shoulder as you peered down at the pink, heart-shaped pan that rested right next to yours.

In his, lay a heart-shaped cookie cake, covered from top to bottom in light brown frosting. It was perfectly smooth, not a single dip or line in its foundation, and you just knew that Hyunjin had gone over it time and time again to make sure of that. Around the edges of the cookie were white, interwebbing vines that crawled up the sides and stopped just shy of the upper edge. The most captivating part, however, was the top that was particularly bare, away from thirteen, white cursive words.

“I will always leave you notes if you will always pick them up.”

Je te laisserai des mot.

A/N: Hey y'all! This was meant to come out on Valentine's Day (I'm a day late and a dollar short, I know🥲) but I've been swamped and had to push it back. Still, I hope you guys enjoy having a late V-day with this sweet boy. Thanks for reading! -M'k <3

#happy valentine's day #skz fluff #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #domestic fluff

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crimsonhydrangeavn · 4 months ago

Text

(For those wondering, Rita's Birthday is actually September 19th. )

Ironically enough, the reason why I wasn't able to post something on her birthday was because I was swamped with work thanks to an unrealistic deadline.

But hey, better late than never right?

As an apology to Rita and to you all, I wrote a "little" birthday story detailing how her "Birthday Cookies" came to be!

It was almost two weeks before the date when you found out Rita's birthday was coming up.

It was purely unintentional. You see, you spotted her open planner when she asked you to grab something off of her desk. Most of the days on her calendar had a note or two written in black text, however September 19th was the only exception. She had used a cute little birthday sticker that, you presumed, came with the planner.

At the time you made a mental note of it before fetching her the document she requested and getting back to work. However, that was the moment you knew you wanted to do something special for her. Like you, she had recently moved to the island and had really only focused on getting the bookstore up and running before getting consumed with work. From what you had seen she hadn't really socialized much outside of work, so the chances of her actually having birthday plans were slim.

However you intended to fix that! After all, she was the best boss you had ever had. She was kind, patient, hardworking, responsible, understanding, and made it a point to check in on how you were doing often. It was hard NOT to want to do something special for her given just how much you appreciated her.

During the following two weeks you made it your mission to learn as much as possible about her preferences. You didn't want to outright ask her, otherwise it would be too obvious. So, you would make sure to subtly bring it up with customers whenever Rita was within earshot so she would, hopefully, join in on the conversation, or you would be able to naturally follow up on the topic later that day.

Admittedly it was a pretty round about way of collecting information, but you really wanted to make sure your plans were a complete and total surprise

You also invited her out to the local bakery one day during lunch when she seemed to have a particularly rough day dealing with a bunch of annoying teenagers. It was then and there you had learned that she actually hated cake.

Marcelo, who was in ear shot when she made the comment, couldn't help himself and asked why. According to her, she was never a fan of the "cakey" texture and she HATED frosting. Marcelo couldn't hide his surprise and began listing a variety of cakes, most of which you had never even heard from before. However Rita had not only tried all of them, but disliked each and every one.

Poor Marcelo had to return to work defeated while Rita and yourself remained seated sipping on your respective drinks.

" If not cakes, cupcakes, or pastries, then what kind of sweets do you like?" You questioned, praying that she would give you something, anything, to work with.

She took a sip of her black coffee as she considered your question. After a few beats she finally answered.

" Chocolate chip cookies."

" Really?" You questioned, surprised by the simplicity.

" I know, I know, It's a pretty basic answer... but I can't help it. It's always been a bit of a comfort food for me. Nothing beats a warm freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. " She paused for a moment before continuing, a soft wistful expression on her face.

"Growing up my grandma would make them for us on Sundays and... Well, it was the highlight of my week." She answered with a warm smile as she glanced down at her coffee.

" I mean, I can't really blame you. After all chocolate chips cookies are a classic for a reason." You commented with a smile, only to earn a gentle and affectionate look from the woman before you.

Fast forward a week later and you and a handful of coworkers quietly arrived at work nearly an hour early. Thankfully you had a key to the back door and was able to slip in without much effort. You all spent the next hour quietly decorating the break room without alerting Rita of your presence.

So when she finally descended the stairs an hour later, she was surprised to find you all standing in the dimly lit break room shouting " HAPPY BIRTHDAY RITA!"

She nearly fell down the stairs in shock as she stared at all of you wide eyed.

" W-what on earth...?"

It was then you stepped forward with a wide grin, pleased that your birthday surprise for Rita had been a success.

Well, at least the surprise part was anyway.

" It's your birthday isn't it? We wanted to do something to celebrate! Now why don't you sit down? We have a few surprises up our sleeves." You said with a smile as you grabbed her arm and gently led her over to the couch to sit down.

It was then all of your coworkers presented their gifts and cards to her, thanking her for being such a great boss and how they'll miss her once they returned home for the winter. Fortunately Rita had recovered from the shock by then and politely thanked them all, chuckling along and having a wonderful time.

Once everyone else had given her their gifts, you were up to bat.

" There's one more surprise, so make sure to close your eyes okay?" You said with a smile.

Rita raised a brow before doing as she was told, a playful smirk on her lips. " Oh? What's next? A piñata?" She teased gaining a few chuckles out of your coworkers.

You slipped into her office where you had hidden away a plate of freshly baked cookies you had made earlier that morning. You popped them into the microwave one of your coworkers had relocated to Rita's office right before you started decorating.

Once they were rewarmed, you placed a little candle in the center cookie, thankful that the warm temperature allowed it to stick.

Once they were ready you finally headed out to Rita, carrying the plate of cookies. Placing the plate on the coffee table in front of her you told her to open her eyes before singing happy birthday as your coworkers joined in.

When Rita's eyes finally opened she was surprised by the lack of cake, only for her features to soften considerably once she realized why you of all people had given her cookies instead of a cake. Your coworkers had initially teased you for your choice, however after seeing her tearful and grateful reaction, it was clear that you had made the right decision.

The rest of the gathering went smoothly and despite it all, you all were still able to open up on time. Then most of your coworkers ended up leaving once the festivities were over since it was technically their days off.

It wasn't until nearly everyone had cleared out or gone to the front that Rita finally approached you.

" You know Y/N... I've never gotten birthday cookies instead of cake before." She commented playfully as her eyes shined with affection and mirth as she looked over at you.

" I know I know, an unconventional decision... You have no idea how much everyone roasted me once they realized what I brought instead of a cake." You chuckled remembering their reactions.

"but... I wanted to make sure the birthday girl enjoyed her birthday treat." You met her gentle gaze, a small knowing on your lips.

"Well, I'd say she more than just enjoyed it. Thanks Y/N. This is one of the best birthdays I've had in a really long time." And with that, she wrapped her arms around you in an incredibly warm and thankful embrace.

#yandere #yandere visual novel #original character #yandere vn #male yandere #ask #crimson hydrangea #visual novel #crimson hydrangea vn #yanderes #rita miller #birthday #birthday cookies

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