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leiawritesstories · 3 years ago

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Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair.

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job.

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth.

As if she knew anything her staff actually did.

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together.

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation.

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself.

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order.

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English.

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple.

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved.

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure.

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved.

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve.

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind.

“You broke both of your hearts”

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart.

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice.

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds.

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city.

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner.

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed.

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction.

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth.

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love. We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath.

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages.

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan.

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof.

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech.

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying.

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan.

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing.

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow.

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything.

She was worthy of him.

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified.

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

Present day.

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked.

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch.

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.”

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

#my writing #rowaelin month #aaaaaangst

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howisavedtheworld · 3 years ago

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enough | hanamaki takahiro

genre: heavy angst to fluff, a *lil* bittersweet lmao, timeskip!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader/gn!reader, established relationship

warnings pls pls read: money problems, cursing littered in a lot of places, mentions of feelings like depression, exhaustion, loneliness, crying, etc., blood mentioned *once* (it’s from a callus, it is nothing extreme but i want to state it explicitly anyways) if there’s anything else brought to my attention ill fix accordingly

a/n: hi!!!! it’s been like two weeks since i’ve posted, i’ve been in a slump, but i’m going to genuinely try to be more consistent and kind to myself abt wat i create! also every thing i’ve ever written on here is ib my personal experiences

heads up tho, i havent read the manga and this is just my dramatized take on his life post-time skip and certain things may be inaccurate

enjoy!

also proofread at 4 am lol

wc: 1385

PLS GIVE THIS FIC A CHANCE ITS NOT ALL SAD I PROMISE

if hanamaki takahiro were to say he’s “tired,” one would deem it a grave understatement.

he’s not just tired.

he’s drained.

for starters, he’s worked three back to back shifts and it was barely reaching wednesday. monday at the deli was tough, considering he spent twelve straight hours packaging and stocking prosciutto and mozzarella sandwiches and arranging bags of kettle-cooked chips by flavor across the aisles of the store.

tuesday was even harder, the double shift at the restaurant hitting his already fatigued body like a brick. it was tiring enough to run around speedily clearing dishes and wiping down tables for six hours but it was absolute overkill to then spend the entire night cleaning the restaurant and prepping it for the morning crew.

6:39 am.

that was when takahiro finally left the restaurant, forcing his sluggish sore limbs to make the trek to the train station for the long ride back home.

in truth, the word “tired” barely even scratched the surface.

but he needed the money.

he needed it badly.

bills were always lingering on the brim of takahiro’s mind: the rent, the light bill, the water, the electricity. it left with him the constant urge to move, to work, to always be on the lookout for his next paycheck.

and of course, this wasn’t the best arrangement nor was it the life he’d hoped for.

of course, regret encompassed him, bound itself to his very being.

he wished he went pro after his glory days at aoba johsai, that he’d tried a little harder to be something. maybe then he’d have the opportunity to play in argentina, to travel the world, or to get signed by a sports brand just for the sake of it.

of course, he always felt a pang of jealousy for the ones that made it big.

even the ones who didn’t.

the ones with stable incomes, who could sustain themselves with only one job, who owned compact sized cars, who could actually save a single dime with hopes of eventually going on vacation.

deep down, he was jealous of them, too.

and he wondered, as he finally stepped foot on the train heading north, feeling the ache in his heels settle, if this would ever feel like enough.

if working two jobs back to back would ever amount to any feeling of satisfaction, if it was okay that he would only ever be remembered as the guy who didn’t go pro, who never got his degree, who was barely getting by.

he really didn’t think so.

because how could it be enough?

how could he have nothing to show for the life he lived?

sometimes, takahiro felt almost as if he was cursed. that life had dealt him the worst of cards just to see him crack underneath the pressure.

a lot of times, he did.

he had his fair share of low moments: the time he found himself shedding tears in the back of the deli, hiding behind loaves of rye bread and cold cuts hoping nobody would catch him.

or the time he bandaged his own bleeding foot by himself at the restaurant because his calluses broke open and everyone else was simply too busy to help.

in these moments, hanamaki felt so alone.

as if the world had forgotten him, had continued to spin on its axis, leaving him alone to figure out its rotation.

in these moments, he really just wanted to run away from it all.

to quit his jobs and just disappear for some time.

but he couldn’t.

because hanamaki takahiro had also learned that in every shitty day or moment, there was a flip side.

there had to be a sliver of hope in the midst of darkness.

7:32 am.

that was when hanamaki got home.

he stood for a moment, fumbling with various receipts and trinkets in his pocket before he finding his keys and opening the door.

it was quiet.

he could only hear the whirr of the shaky air conditioner and the hum of morning birds outside the bay windows of the living room. he took one step inside, wincing at the ache in his legs and sharp jab of pain up his spine.

locking the door behind him, he slipped off his shoes before the silence was broken.

“baby?” your soft sleepy voice rang through the apartment, making his body jump.

he was sure you’d be sleeping by now.

“hey, babe.” he let out a exhale of relief that you were the source of noise. “sorry if i woke you.”

you sat up from your position laying on the couch, shaking your head incessantly while wiping the grog from your eyes.

“no,” you quickly spoke. “i was waiting for you.”

his heart skipped a beat looking at you, your eyes half-lidded from exhaustion with dark circles underneath them, your hair completely disheveled from your awkward sleeping position on the couch, and you wore his old seijoh jersey that was too large and slipped down your shoulders, the hem falling just above your knees.

you looked at him, offering a soft smile before beckoning him over to you. “work must’ve fucking sucked, c’mere.”

and you were so right.

it was awful.

he took lengthy strides over to you before dropping onto the couch, his head finding its way to your lap.

your fingers instinctively reached to stroke his soft locks and he sighed, leaning into your touch.

“are you hungry?” you murmured. “i made udon earlier. it’s cold now so you’ll have to warm it up.”

he was hungry, desperately so after not having a moment to get even a small snack in at work, but he wanted to stay here for just a little longer, pressed into you, feeling the pads of your fingers against his scalp, smelling your conditioner and listening to the softness of your voice.

he shook his head, and you laughed, knowingly nodding. “okay, you can eat it later.”

“how was work for you?” he questioned, eyes fluttering closed at serenity of the moment.

you hummed, fingers still locked into his hair. “shitty. you know, usual bullshit with customers. but i think with my next paycheck, we’ll make the rent.”

his eyes snapped open to look up at you, and you were staring down at him, an excited smile on your face when you locked eyes.

and takahiro knew you had hopes and dreams, that you wanted to go back to school and get your degree and have a normal job, and eventually buy a house and car, and maybe have kids, but you always said that part wearily, claiming you both should start off the family off with a pet first.

he knew you wanted something different. you’d told him.

but even now, in this moment as he stared up at you, saddened by the fact that the future you hoped for was nowhere in sight, there was no inkling of disappointment in your eyes, no what-if, no questioning of if it was enough.

you looked at him like the life you had was all you’d ever asked for.

as if of course it was enough.

before he knew it, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

your eyes widened and you moved a hand to his cheek, wiping the tear away.

“i love you.” he stated, a few more lone tears sliding down his face.

your face softened before you squeezed his cheek with your hand.

“hey.” you beckoned him to sit up.

he followed, sitting up to face your frame on the couch. “don’t cry ‘cus we made the rent. there’s always other bills you can pay. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

and he laughed, nodding while tears spilled over his irises and he watched you through bleary eyes, wipe each one away and pull him into an embrace.

“i love you. you know that, right? i’ll always love you.”

hanamaki takahiro realized that in this lifetime, he doesn’t need a sports deal, or a compact car, or trips to argentina. even if life were to always be this hard, if he was always teetering on the in-between, if this was all the universe had to offer him, that was okay.

because it had granted him you.

and you, alone, were more than enough.

#hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki takahiro fluff #hanamaki takahiro angst #haikyuu! x reader #hanamaki fluff #hanamaki angst #no bc its almost 5 am and im working tmrw

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jenojaemssss · 4 years ago

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happier

synopsis: in which mark was happier with you.

pairing: mark x reader (i attempted to write the mc as gender neutral, so lmk if there are any tips on how to be more considerate! i wanna be able to write as inclusively as possible heh)

genre/category: angst, exes!au

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i have an assignment due in like 20 minutes (so i did not get a chance to proofread!!) but i got distracted thinking about mark while listening to my 2017 simp playlist :D so here's a mini-fic (that was supposed to be a drabble) based on this song!

I saw you walk inside a bar.

When Mark looked up from the almost-empty bottle sitting in front of him, he didn’t expect to be greeted by the sight of you. But what caught him even more off guard was that you were entering the bar hand in hand with someone new.

You, not yet noticing your past lover's hunched figure, walk towards a set of empty bar stools, another man's arms wrapped around your waist like possessive belt. Mark began to stare then. He stared at what used to be his reason. What used to be the one who'd wake him up in the morning, who used to be his reason for coming home when the days were too long, yet somehow eventually bled into nights. He continued to stare at what had been his true source of happiness.

In his eyes, you still were. You were his only radiating source of light that made him feel warm. You were his comfort, like a warm blanket during a rainy day, or an iced tea when the weather was too hot to do anything else but lounge around the house with all fans on full blast.

He said something to make you laugh.

Mark noticed how the one that accompanied you looked at you with a small spark in his eyes as you cover your mouth in attempts to shield your erupting laughter. That was a cute habit of yours when you laughed, and he used to stare at you the same way; he was staring at you almost identically as he's sat across the bar at that moment. The only difference now was that Mark stopped being the reason for your bright smiles and warm laughter.

I noticed how both your smiles were twice as wide as ours.

The first encounter between the two of you would forever be engraved in the mind of Mark Lee.

He was walking around a lake during a camping trip with a few of his friends, mindlessly swinging his arms around to cool off. Mid swing, though, he made contact with something he later found out was your face. He apologized so many times that you had almost busted a lung laughing at the poor boy's terrified features.

Soon, Mark joined you, laughing in harmony because apparently being smacked in the face by someone was the funniest thing to the both of you. Mark proceeded to awkwardly ask for your contact information, hoping to make up for the mishap, and you complied because the man was so darn cute.

One meet-up (he never specified it as a date) turned into two, which turned into three, and soon, you were seeing each other everyday in a small cafe hidden within the corners of your shared campus.

The two of you attended the same university, but due to being in different departments, there was never really a chance to come across one another while running to your next classes, but this cafe was the one spot you two had in common.

The cafe meetings soon turned into cafe dates (he clarified this time that they were in fact, dates), and soon enough, you were both head over heels in love, moving in together as you approached your final years of college.

Mark and your's relationship wasn't perfect, but it was always so much fun. Mark was always able to make you laugh because of how awkward he was, and one time you to left him behind on a trip to the grocery store because he was so embarrassing, making stupid puns at the poor worker just trying to stock the shelves of the cereal aisle. That day, you bought a watermelon the size of both your heads combined to make up for leaving him behind.

Mark bitterly smiled at his recollection. That was one of the last times he and you were able to smile together.

You looked happier.

The last time Mark saw you, it was on a sunny, Saturday afternoon. You were on your way back from a trip to your local convenience store, bags of chips, a tub of ice cream, and boxes of candy spilling out of the watermelon themed reusable bag he had left behind after moving out. You were still wearing his hoodie, then. He left that behind for you too.

It made him smile, knowing that you kept it.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you.

You felt as though you couldn't breathe. When you entered Mark and your shared apartment, you sensed that something was wrong; that something was missing from your normally warm environment. Mark and you have been arguing more frequently recently, and the night before, it was the worst it had been in years.

Mark had been going out later into the night, sleeping on couches of friend's houses more than in his own bed. Your shared bed. You more often than not woke up to nothing, the radiating warmth missing from your side.

You'd had enough of it, and confronted the man when he walked into the apartment at 2 am. Words spewed from either side, along the lines of "I'm sick of this" and "What is there to be sick of?" Mark ended up sleeping on the couch that night while you cried yourself to sleep, clutching Mark's pillow and attempting to hold onto what used to be the warm, delightful love of your life.

The next day when you woke up, he was gone. He texted you saying he had to leave early for work and that you should go ahead and start your day without him, and you did. You began planning ways to talk things out, to fix things with Mark over a nice dinner.

You set your plan to action and made your way to the local market. When you returned home and stepped foot into the kitchen, though, your eyes landed on a small note placed right in the center of the dining table. Written on that note in Mark's sloppy handwriting were the words, "I'm sorry, but I need to clear my head."

You dropped the note and ran into your bedroom, only to see that Mark had taken almost half of his belongings from the cramped space, along with one of the suitcases the two of you placed behind the closet when you first moved in. He was gone.

But ain't nobody love you like I do.

He'd been gone for about 10 days when you receive a call from Donghyuck. The brown-haired boy informed you that Mark has been sleeping on his couch for over a week and would be stopping by within the next few days to take up all of his friend's belongings he'd left behind.

You hummed, almost numbly, and before hanging up, you mustered up the courage to ask Donghyuck if Mark was currently there with him. He hummed in response, and you mumbled a good before dropping the line completely, falling to your knees and sobbing until you no longer had tears to let fall.

You were broken, and it was all because of Mark, yet a piece of you continuously hoped and prayed that he was safe. That he was living in a proper home with a place to sleep, and that he wasn't too cold because he often got cold very easily.

Mark, on the other end of the line, was silently holding in his cries as his best friend hung up the phone, disconnecting him from his one true love. Mark never intended to hurt you the way that he did, but in his mind, because he loved you so much, too much, he had to let you go.

He was noticing how much he was holding you back, from job opportunities to your social life, he believed he was the reason. He was the reason you declined the job offer in the neighboring city because that meant you'd have to either move out or drag Mark with you, and you chose on neither and stayed. He was the reason you never left the house on weekends because only then was he ever home. He was the reason you had bags under your eyes, he soon realized.

You'd been staying up night after night, waiting for him to come home. You'd been crying because he would come home with bags darker than yours. You'd been losing sleep because you spent too much of your time worrying about him.

He was holding you back by loving you.

So he decided to let you go.

Promise that I will not take it personal, baby.

A few months have passed and Mark's finally settled down in a new place in the town you had rejected the job offer from all those months ago. A part of him wished that moving away would offer you closure, knowing that Donghyuck explained his side of the story to you. Mark wanted so badly to be the one who spoke to you that day, but he was afraid of the confrontation. He was scared he'd break and hold you into his arms and promise to never let you go, bringing himself and you back into the endless loop.

So he left. He moved away and had Donghyuck clean up the mess he'd made. Mark owes him one.

The other part of him, though, hoped that you contacted the agency that offered you the job all those months ago. The selfish part of him prayed that the agency granted your request and offered you the job you passed up on in this new city. He hoped that you and him could start over in a different setting, and maybe a few years from now, run into each other again. You'd be in better places in your lives and the two of you could start over.

He knew he was hoping for too much, but oh a man can dream.

If you're moving on with someone new.

Mark was brought back to the present when he hears a loud shattering of glass. He averted his eyes towards the source of the ruckus and landed his eyes on you. He noticed how your eyes grew into large saucers when he displayed similar shocked features.

Shit.

He quickly and clumsily packed up his belongings as he waved down one of the waiters, asking for the tab. Noticing Mark's shaken composure accompanied by the glares being sent in his direction from the other side of the bar, the waiter sympathetically printed out the bill as fast as he could and didn't let out a peep when Mark underpaid about 10 bucks.

Mark rushed out of the bar, only to be caught by the sound of your voice calling out to him.

"Don't you dare run away." The voice was cold.

"Not again, Mark." It was almost shaking.

You caught up to the man. He turned around, slowly, wishing that this was all just a messed up dream, and the alcohol was only playing tricks with his mind.

Indeed, though, this was his reality. Mark remained silent, only staring at his feet as you approached him.

"Look at me," your voice was softer now, but he noticed the stern edge laced within your words. You were never one to raise your voice, not even when Mark would spew incredulous things at you during an argument. You were always calm.

Mark shifted his gaze from the ground towards your face and noticed you looked wiser. He noticed how your soft features were now more sharp. He noticed how you wore your hair differently. He noticed how you'd ditched your casual jeans and a shirt for something more business-casual. He noticed how your aura had changed into something more serious. He noticed every little change about you.

He also noticed how, beneath all the physical changes, you were still you. You still had the same stars in your eyes. You still had his favorite scent. You still had the same quip in your lip when you spoke. You still had the same smile.

You were smiling at him.

Mark finally managed to meet your eyes, and as you opened your mouth to speak, he cut you off before you could get a sound out.

"You look happier."

Your smile dropped a bit at his observation. He was right, you were happier than you were after the breakup. But you were happier when you were with him. Using other men to distract yourself from Mark worked for a while, but it was never the same.

It's been over a year, and you still missed him. You missed everything about Mark; his smile, his laugh, his posture when he was furiously typing away at his keyboard because he had an essay due in 10 minutes. You missed the way he'd sing to you at night when you woke up from a nightmare, and the way he'd pet down your hair when the two of you wake up in each other's arms after a nap.

And although you missed him, a part of you was still angry at him. Angry that he left without an explanation, and had Donghyuck be the bearer of bad news that he wanted you to be happier. That he wanted you to have a life not revolving around him and his actions.

A part of you hated how he was so selfish, and how he never looked to you for his decision. Yet the other, wiser, part of you was thankful. Thankful that he cared about you enough to let you go, cared about you enough to put your priorities above his own feelings for once. Most importantly, you were thankful that he was your first heartbreak.

Before he was the boy who broke your heart, he was a friend.

You tilt your head a bit sideways, plastered another smile and nodded in response.

"It's a process."

He smiled back, toothy grin warming your heart. "I'm glad you're doing okay."

Maybe it was the universe finally hearing Mark's wishes of starting over, or maybe it was just a mere coincidence that you ran into each other that day. But nonetheless, the encounter made him realize one thing.

"I was happier with you."

#mark lee #nct mark #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee angst #mark angst #mark fic #mark scenarios #mark lee scenarios #nct dream fic #nct dream angst #nct 127 angst #mark lee fic #literally i'm just simping rn

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sunflovverharry · 4 years ago

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Driving Home for Christmas

a/n: hii! i wanted to make this a super cute dad!h during christmas fic so i hope you enjoy! this fic is a part of @goldenbluesuit ´s christmas song fic challenge which i’m honored to be a part of! It's the first fic challenge I’ve entered and I’ve been nervous to post something along with all these other amazing writers, but I'm excited to post this little piece centered in the dad universe. Happy reading, and remember to read the rest of the entries as well (which I’ve read some these past two weeks and they’re fab!) <3

pairing: dad!h + y/n

warnings: none! just a cute dad!h piece

word count: 3.8k

Harry was loading the trunk of their Audi, putting all their packed suitcases and bags of presents in there. The car was smack full as this year they had another addition to their family, waiting patiently for her mum to feed her before they left the city. It was snowing heavily and Anne made sure they knew they didn’t have to drive up today with the weather making the roads worse than usual. Y/n also told him a hundred times it was his decision as he was the one driving. Harry didn’t budge though, telling his mum they would definitely be there by tonight.

This year's Christmas celebrations were being spent in Cheshire with Harry’s family seeing as they were with her family in Nottingham last year. They’ve found it works best this way rather than splitting it up to go both places every year. After four years together and buying a house at the start of this year, y/n thinks this might be the last Christmas spent out of their own home. They have their two cats (Nellie and Sunny) and having their first child it might be time to start celebrating the holiday at their own house.

«Babe, did you remember to pack the board games?» Harry heard his girlfriend ask from the threshold where they had hung a mistletoe and had Harry not been busy trying to make everything fit, he definitely would’ve turned around, ran up to her and gave her a big smack on the lips. He settled for giving her a thumbs up not swirling around as he was too busy trying to figure out how he could make most of their things fit in the trunk, thinking it was just like a game of tetris. While Harry had been doing the heavy lifting and packing; y/n had put a cute Christmas onesie on the still tiny body of their daughter, definitely small for her age but she was eating like her daddy so where the weight went they had no idea.

Olive was a generally happy, cuddly baby who more often than not reached for her dad over her mum. It didn’t bother y/n that she was a daddy’s girl, knowing how much Harry loves children and now that he has his own he’s all over her. She finds the two cuddled together on the sofa, their bed or the armchair in her nursery at least a couple times a day. Her phone is now overflowing with photos of the two and she’s hoping to put together a photo album for Harry’s birthday filled with them - knowing he’d cherish it forever.

Half an hour later they were pulling out of the driveway. Harry had checked multiple times that all the lights were out, the doors were locked and the alarm system was functioning properly. Olive was smiling as she sat still in her car seat behind y/n. She had wondered if sitting in the back with her daughter would be better, but decided against it. If she got fussy they’d stop at a gas station and she’d move to the back.

The couple was tremendously excited to bring along their little bundle of happiness and get to show her off to all of Harry’s family and friends. Of course, his family have seen her when she was a newborn but living quite far away most of them only get to see them once or twice a year. It’ll change the dynamic of how they celebrate the holidays for sure, but it's a positive change. Anne will spoil her rotten, just like she does to y/n when they visit - making her tea whenever she wants some, washing their dirty laundry (which y/n didn’t care that her mother-in-law saw her underwear cause she didn’t bring anything too scandalous) and heading to the shops when they needed even the smallest thing. Really, y/n thought she was too kind for her own good. At the same time though, y/n always did play a good host when Anne visited them - spoiling her with the comfiest bed sheets, making the food for every meal, not wanting her to lift a finger as if she was the queen.

Olive was eight months - a fairly active one at that - and loves to crawl everywhere, especially to follow her mum or dad around the lower floor of their (way too big) house for only the three (five) of them. Since the pair hadn’t brought Olive with them for such a long drive, the longest being an hour, they were anxious to find out how she’d react to being confined over a longer period of time.

Half an hour in and Olive was babbling away to the teddy bear in her arms (she got it from her nephews when she was born and has been attached to it since) as Harry and y/n talked about how excited they were for their daughter to explore her daddy´s hometown and how his whole family and friends would fall in love with Olive even more. With their little girl just starting to sleep all through the night in her own room, Anne wanted to make sure she got her own room at her nana's too, so apparently she’s cleaned the office and made it into a makeshift nursery for her granddaughter.

Y/n doesn’t know who’s more excited to see all the familiar faces, the family that’s become not only important to her in the last four years, but now also to their baby. The last time they visited Cheshire, y/n was barely two months pregnant and as tough as it was to keep it hidden from Anne for another month, they managed to keep it to the two of them (with just a handful of slip-ups). They were sure Anne knew they were having a baby with the small smirks she gave y/n and harry when she didn’t want the wine - Harry keeping to non-alcoholics in solidarity with her - which was unregular for her, normally jumping on the thought of having a glass or two after a long day.

“You know mum won’t give her up after she gets her hands on her right as we walk through the front door? Might want to hop in the back and get your fix before we get there.” Harry let out a chuckle with y/n joining in knowing just how true his words were. Anne was a godsend of a grandmother, taking Olive in her arms doting over her until she’ll start crying for her daddy. Though everyone gives her all the attention she could wish for, no one could ever do what Harry can. He’s her favorite, no matter how much I wish I could be.

Another half hour later and we were making our first stop at a local gas station in Aylesbury. We were about a third of the way in, but the weather was getting harsher with the snow falling harder and the wind picking up just a little bit. While Harry filled the car up with gas and made sure Olive didn’t start fussing, y/n went inside to get a couple snacky items for the three of them and a filled up cup of coffee for her boyfriend. Coming out of the station she could see Harry in the back with his love bug, bringing her out of the car seat as her cute little wails haltered. She was due for a feed, so they found a secluded space to park so no one would stare at her while breastfeeding their daughter.

Sitting in the front passenger seat with her daughter attached to her nipple with her baby daddy sitting in the driver's seat next to her they spent the next twenty minutes singing along to the Christmas songs playing one after the other on the radio.

Y/n had always loved this time of year - the snow, the songs (which - admittedly - she listened to throughout the entire year), the decorations, the joy and cheer. With y/n and Harry moving in together a month before Christmas, only half a year after they first began dating, they had a mutual understanding for how they would go all out with lights, trees and decorations both on the inside and outside. Though their house was gated with a high fence along the perimeter of their entire land. The trees lining the driveway all the way from the gate to where the gravel road extends into two, one leading to the garage and the other to the front door, were now lit up with strings of light going through them. It was only the beginning to their decorations, but it couldn’t be seen from the gate. More lights were lit along the house, windows were accentuated by red tape creating squares with spray along it, making it seem like snow on the glass. Though there aren’t tons of colourful lights, outside at least, the inside is littered with different colours, shining and sparkling along the staircases, mantels, dressers, counters and tables.

Olive felt like there was something new to look at, touch and be amazed by in every room of their house. As the clock sets seven in the morning, like clockwork, Harry hears Olive’s wails for him to get her out of the crib so she can move around. He kisses y/n’s forehead as he lets her sleep for another half hour to an hour like every morning before pulling on a pair of boxers and some pajama pants if it’s cold to get his daughter from her nursery across the hall.

The two of them were like two giggling girlfriends when they finally saw each other for the first time that day, not being able to keep their smiles from their similar lips. Walking downstairs Olive points at the garland wrapping the staircase and every time she sees it, a small sound of surprise and excitement exit her puckered lips. Harry talks to her about how good her mama is at decorating their house and how good it looks good for Christmas (he only helped her put up decorations, following her direct orders). Y/n had a certain way she liked to decorate and with this being the first Christmas in their house she wanted everything to look perfect.

Coming into the kitchen after turning the dimmed lights on low to have some lighting in the morning dark they had a little shimmy along the floor. Olive babbled along with Harry’s singing and mumbling to her explaining how the buttons on the walls turned on the different lights. She probably didn’t understand or care about the lights, but the two continued singing and talking about nonsense along the way. In the kitchen, Harry made her a bottle she demanded having before getting started on the omelette he makes for him and y/n every morning he’s home without fail.

When they finally got back on the road the snow was coming down heavily and the only thing they could see were the lines of cars in front of them on the M40 pushing the break every few seconds before accelerating again moving only a couple meters before breaking again. Y/n didn’t have a lot of patience in traffic - or in general - and quickly became annoyed making Harry laugh at her telling her to calm down (she wasn’t even the one who had to drive through this horrible weather). This lasted for another forty-five minutes before the snow let up just a little bit and the cars seemed to roll along the road like normal.

“I didn’t think driving home for Christmas would take this long. At least, I hoped it wouldn’t.” They’d been on the road since nine thirty this morning and now, two and a half hours later, they still have at least another two hours left until they’re at Anne’s. It wasn’t unusual for y/n to call Anne’s home, having stayed there for weeks at a time during the almost five years her and Harry have known each other. Harry isn’t unknown to calling y/n’s parents’ house his home either.

“I know. Wish it didn’t have to take this long and I’m sure little Ollie is going to get antsy soon. If the weather continues like this and we don’t have to take more than one more break, I think we’ll be there within three hours, but if we run into traffic, we might have to take more stops along the way.” Harry wanted to move along quickly to get to his mum’s before Olive’s nap time around three, if she didn’t end up sleeping in the car. We knew when we decided to drive in the morning that Olive would probably stay up the whole way, too engrossed with the cars and lights along the way to ever be able to fall asleep.

“You know what we should do to keep her happy for another half hour at least?” Y/n turned to look at Harry with a smile grazing her lips. “Play some Christmas music! She loves when we sing and dance around the house.” Playing the memories of hearing Olive’s belly laughter through the house while Harry and her danced in circles around her like another pair of idiots.

Putting on the same Christmas song list they’ve played since making it together all those years ago, the first song coming on shuffle being Santa Claus is Coming to Town. The noise was at a comfortable volume so they could still hear Olive if she started fussing though it’s unlikely and for it to not be too disturbing for Harry’s driving. With Olive seated with her back to them she couldn’t see her mummy dancing in her seat while they sang along to song after song, but she heard her parents’ voices singing out to the songs she’s heard oh so many times before.

“This is accurate, huh?” Harry snickered as Driving Home for Christmas began playing through the speakers.

“You don’t say.” It was one of their favorite songs and it fit the scene they were in, driving home for Christmas, excited to see their family, singing along the slowly getting better traffic. Looking around at the cars next to them, most of them looked to be families also driving home to be with their families for this year's holiday celebrations.

The rest of the drive was filled with more singing, two more stops for Harry to give his baby some cuddles and walking around one of the local Tesco’s they stopped at to get some more drinks and snacks. Olive was waving at everyone walking past us and talking all kinds of gibberish. While y/n grabbed the snacks, Harry had Olive walking along the aisles in between his feet while holding her little hands in his following her around the store.

A quarter to three they finally made it to Anne’s home, reversing into the driveway so they could get their baggage inside easier later in the day. Y/n saw Anne open the front door in the rearview mirror when Harry was pulling in the last meters. There was a bright smile on her face when we got out of the car. The snow had laid thick on the ground up north and the slick ice underneath made it harder to walk without having to make sure every step was carefully thought out.

Just minutes later Olive was already crawling with her little legs all over her grandma’s home, interested in anything and everything she could get her chubby hands on not seeming to be tired at all. They decided to forgo her nap and hope for an early night, which isn’t likely with everything going on around her. Anne was on granny duties right away telling the pair to sit down and relax with the tea she had prepared while she took care of the baby. There was no doubt she loved the attention from the person she might not remember from this summer but quickly became attached to, almost as much as she is to her daddy.

Harry found his place on the sofa, head in y/n’s lap and feet hanging over the armrest demanding her fingers curling through his locks. It wasn’t surprising to her that he was tired from driving the entirety of the way in traffic and tightly packed snow at times. Sure, if needed he could have stayed awake, but with his mum taking care of his little love he didn’t care much, falling asleep to his other love combing her fingers through his hair. It didn’t happen too often that they could have a cuddle in the middle of the day - just the two of them - with Olive needing their attention at all hours of the day so when the opportunity arose he wasn’t going to turn it down. He admits, though this is nice as well, that a naked cuddle in bed would definitely top laying on the sofa with his mum and daughter running around them. Maybe tonight, he thinks, as he finally falls asleep to the sound of Olive’s giggles.

As nighttime inched closer and Olive’s bedtime was passing them in the chatter and laughter, y/n told Harry to get their things from the car while she nurses Olive before getting her ready for bed. While they took care of their daughter, Anne made a nice spread of cheese and crackers for them to indulge tonight while catching up on everything that’s been going on in their lives since the last time she visited them in London.

Harry found Olive’s bag first, choosing a pair of christmassy pajamas from the mountain of clothes they had brought for her. Y/n walked upstairs to the nursery Anne had set up, seeing Harry already unpacking her bags into the cute vintage turquoise chiffonier Anne had bought from a neighbour only a couple weeks ago immediately falling in love with it.

«Would you like to have a cuddle with daddy before bed, Ollie?» Y/n firmly believed her daughter needed the nightly cuddle from Harry, just like she does, to fall asleep. She was already reaching out for him with her nimble hands waiting for him to take her in for a snuggle in his arms. There was no armchair in the makeshift nursery like they had purchased for Olive’s nursery back home where they always sat but Harry made it work. Anything for a cuddle with his baby growing way too quick for his liking.

It was no secret Harry loved babies and that only heightened when he had his own baby. With how good Olive is and how lush it’s been having a baby around and it not be just the two of them, he had thought about what it would be like with another baby around. Another little love for them to have, give Olive a sister or brother to play with. He hadn’t said anything to y/n about the thoughts he’d been having, not knowing if she'd agree with him. It’s been eight months and when they had talked about it before they agreed on a maximum of two years between their children.

Only a couple hours later they headed to bed themselves, ready for a good night's sleep before another long day tomorrow. Harry had been debating with himself whether he was going to mention babies to y/n or not - ultimately ended up with yes, he would mention it. Now they were finally alone with y/n resting her head on Harry’s pillow, her fingers delicately drawing patterns on his chest.

“I have something I’d like to discuss with you.” Harry’s voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper, not wanting to ruin the calmness around them. He wasn’t nervous so to say, but he felt his pulse quicken the tiniest bit at the thought of getting turned down. Y/n turned her head to watch Harry as he pulled her in as close as he could without suffocating her.

“It’s been lovely having Olive, right? Seems like it was meant to be to have a baby and during the holidays it’s been so fun watching her so interested in everything.” Y/n murmured her answer. She had loved having a little one to care for and to fill their days with joy over the last eight months.

“Well, with how well it’s been going with her, I was thinking we could talk about having another little one? Maybe discuss it a bit. What do you say, let's make Ollie a big sister?”

“I think we might be well on the way to making her a sister, bub.” Harry turned his head at lightning speed hearing her words, not knowing if he heard her quite right. His open mouth and big round eyes weren’t something she saw often combined as she wasn’t always the best at surprising him, but this time she was sure her secret had come as a big shock. It wasn’t as if they had been trying for a baby either, only forgetting a condom a handful times when they were too in the moment to care for it.

She found out only a week ago, thinking she could keep it to herself until Christmas day. It wasn’t difficult to hide it from him, not struggling with morning sickness and only craving sweets as if she was on her period. Knowing they had agreed on the number of children they wanted - four - she wasn’t scared of him reacting badly.

“You’re not joking, right?” Harry smashed his lips onto his girlfriends when she shook her head - no, i’m not joking - kissing her slow and long, showing her just how happy he was. They spent the night talking about how thrilled and excited they were to expand their family with more children and how great of a sister Olive would be. Baby names were flying between them, agreeing to never naming one of their babies after a city, but rather continuing naming them something more unique than Chloe or Adam.

The rest of the holiday spent up north with Harry’s family was relaxing and lovely all around. Playing board games, exploring the city with Olive (who was way too fascinated by all the snow), family dinner parties and having fun with friends they didn’t get to see all too often. Olive was wiped out after opening her presents on Christmas morning and spending all her energy on all the toys she got and the paper ripping she played with (more than the toys to be honest).

This year had been special for the family and Christmas was just the same. Olive was lively and it made y/n and Harry exhausted with everything going on, but they wouldn’t change it for the world. After all, Olive was their little girl and soon there would be another little love in their family. Trying to keep the pregnancy from their family and friends was easier this time around as she could blame not drinking alcohol on her breastfeeding and decided they would keep it hidden from everyone until the last possible minute.

#gbsxmaschallenge #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles drabble #harry styles fiction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #fic challenge #harry styles x oc #harry styles x yn #writing

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oneisallallisone · 3 years ago

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All I Know, All I Know Greedling x Reader fic Chapter 2

In a land ruled by alchemy, there are some who would call you a sorcerer. You intend to understand what this means. Along your journey you end up getting mixed up with two strange brothers, a military conspiracy, a potentially world-ending event, and the avarice of something more than human.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

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All I Know, All I Know

Chapter 2: The Agreement

The metal boy remained very still. But the blonde boy burst into sudden laughter.

“A-a sorcerer?” he stammered. “Come on, I thought you were going to tell me the truth. Sorcerers don’t exist.”

“Your companion said it himself,” you argued, “I didn’t perform any transmutations. You both saw. Whatever this is, it’s not alchemy.”

“Yeah, well, the concept of sorcery spits right in the face of alchemy!” the blonde shot back. “Alchemy follows the law of equivalent exchange, in order to obtain something you must give up something of equal value. These are the laws of the universe as much as they are the laws of alchemy, and nothing can bypass the laws of the universe. Unless…”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the suit of armor as his companion’s voice trailed off. “A Philosopher’s Stone.”

The blonde boy grinned almost wickedly. “You have one, don’t you?”

“A what?” you asked.

He took a step closer to you. “A Philosopher’s Stone. An all-powerful artifact from legend that ignores the laws of equivalent exchange and allows its user to will practically anything into existence. You have one, right?”

You took a step back. A heavily charred book crumpled to ashes near your feet .“No. I carry no such stone.”

“Liar.”

“I swear!”

“There is no such thing as a sorcerer!”

“Brother,” the armored boy placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, halting his steps towards you. “Many people say that there’s no such thing as a Philosopher’s Stone either. Maybe on our hunt for the impossible, it makes sense that we run into something else impossible too.”

Your gaze shifted to the metal boy. His fixed expression was that of a cold, unchanging helmet, but his voice had been soft when he spoke. And you could have sworn he gave you the slightest bit of a nod when your eyes met his.

The blonde considered his brother’s words for a moment, his eyes still studying you. Your hand had traveled up to the collar of your bearskin cloak, as it so often did when you felt nervous. The violet energy was gone now, but you felt it lapping just beneath the surface of your skin, ready to spring forth if you felt even the slightest bit more threatened.

“What’s your name?” the blonde finally asked.

“I am (y/n).”

“(y/n),” he repeated. “I’m Edward Elric, and this is my brother Alphonse. I think we can help each other out.”

The agreement was simple. The Elrics would help you try to figure out the nature of your abilities, and in return you would assist them in their pursuit of their goals. Just another equivalent exchange, as Ed would say.

You’d learned that the brothers were in search of a way to get their old bodies back—Ed having lost an arm and a leg, and Al having lost his entire body in a horrific alchemical accident. When pressed further about the details surrounding the accident, both of the brothers became very quiet. Sometimes it felt like learning the truth about them was going to be as impossible as learning the truth about yourself.

“Ed?” You called as you knocked on the door of the brothers’ hotel room. “Al? Are you in there?”

Several days had passed since the three of you had spoken with a woman named Sheska—a former employee at the National Central First Branch, who offered to provide transcripts of all the research the Elrics were looking for—and, after sitting alone in your room and reading for days, you found yourself at a dead end. The books you’d borrowed from the National Central Main Library hadn’t given you any insight into your powers at all.

The door opened slowly, and you were greeted by the sight of Al. “Oh, hey (y/n). What’s going on?”

He moved aside for you to enter the room. You nodded at him, sinking onto the couch once you were inside. “I haven’t been able to uncover anything. If there is any written record of other individuals with abilities like mine, it’s not in the Main Library.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Al said, sitting on the other couch across from you.

“Eh, it just means I have to start looking elsewhere, I suppose,” you said. “What about you and Ed? Have you made any progress?”

“I wish we hadn’t.” A door had opened near the small kitchenette. Edward came walking into the room, his hair down instead of in the usual braid it was normally tied back in. His eyes were downcast, dark bags hanging on the skin underneath.

“You look terrible,” you said.

“Wonderful to see you too again, (y/n).” He took a seat next to Al.

“I take it you…didn’t find what you were expecting?”

The brothers were silent for a while. The room was dim, filled with low candle light and the aura of the moon. A cool wind ruffled the curtains of the open window.

“No.” Al stated simply.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. “If it means anything, I found absolutely nothing of what I hoped for. So you’re already doing better than me, at least.”

Ed forced out a bitter laugh. “I’m not so sure about that, (y/n). I’m really not so sure.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, well…” Al’s voice trailed off. He looked down to his older brother, and Ed gave him a short, resigned nod. “It means that we did find something. But it’s horrible. It’s making us sick to think about.”

“What is it?” you pressed.

A silence fell over the room again.

You softened your voice the next time you spoke. “We made an agreement with each other. You help me, and I help you. You’ve already given me my own room to stay in while I’m in Central, and you’ve checked out books from the Main Library for me. You’ve helped me, so…let me help you.”

For the first time since walking into the room, Ed’s eyes met yours. “We were successful in deciphering Dr. Marcoh’s notes. The Philosopher’s Stone isn’t just a myth, it’s real. But the main ingredient to make them is human life.”

Your stomach dropped just as another cool wind wafted into the room. “Oh…oh no.” You were shaking your head. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

Ed just shrugged in response. Al had closed his eyes, the usual red pinpricks of light beneath his helmet gone. It felt like you were an outsider, watching this grief you could not understand. Yes the revelation about the ingredients of a Philosopher’s Stone was horrific, but you knew that whatever sinking emotion it caused was only amplified by the agony of why the brothers needed the Stone in the first place. A reason that they still had not even whispered to you yet.

You didn’t understand the weight of what they were going through. But you could tell it was crushing. And they needed their space.

“I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.” Slowly you stood up from the couch and made your way to the door. You glanced back once before slipping into the hallway, eyes searching over the brothers yet again. Al still had not opened his eyes. Ed was curling up on his side.

At some point you registered a loud banging on your door.

“(y/n)!” the voice called. “(y/n), open up!”

Having not bothered to change into pajamas that night, you sprung from your bed fully clothed and rushed to the door. A wide-eyed Edward Elric stood there on the other side, with Alphonse right behind him.

“Good, you’re awake,” Ed said, pushing into the room.

“Yeah, I am now,” you half grumbled. “What time is it?”

“Early.”

“Is everything alright?” you knew the answer was objectively, probably, no. But after the state you had left the boys in, you felt it was only proper to ask.

Ed turned to you, his expression surprisingly very different from where you last left him on the couch. His eyes were alight with that usual spark you had come to recognize, and his mouth curled upwards in a grin. “We have a hunch. There might be more to the truth about the Philosopher’s Stone than meets the eye, and we know where to go to investigate more.”

“Okay?”

“Brother is trying to ask if you’d be willing to come with us,” Al said.

You looked back and forth between the boys. “Where exactly would we be going?”

“There’s an old building that was designed to be a government laboratory not too far from here,” Ed explained. “It’s supposedly been classified as ‘off limits’ for a long time due to structural imbalances, but it might be hiding something beneath the surface. Al and I think we can find more information about the Philosopher’s Stone there.”

“Why? I thought you were giving up on your search for it after learning what the main ingredient was.”

“It’s like Dr. Marcoh told us,” Ed said. “We have to search for the truth within the truth. There could still be more about the Stone we don’t know, and we can’t pass this up.”

You leaned an elbow back against the counter. “And you want me to come with you because…?”

Ed shrugged. “Maybe you could find something there too.”

“Plus we might be in need of your powers,” Al said. “Brother and I have a tendency to run into trouble, and we have no idea what we could find at this laboratory. One more person with us might help even our odds.”

You thought about it for a moment. “This building. You said it was ‘off limits,’ right?”

“Yup,” Al said.

“And you intend to poke around to see if you can unveil some secrets that are potentially hidden inside a government building, and you’re asking me if I’m willing to trespass with you?” You thought back to your home in Drachma. How the Briggs mountains were so close, though it was never safe enough to go to them. “Do you have any idea what could happen to me if your government officials find a Drachman citizen just casually breaking into a restricted municipal facility?”

Ed’s grin widened into a smirk. “That just means we won’t have to get caught.”

#day 2 of making the content I want to see in the tag #greedling x reader #fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #greed x reader #fma #Fullmetal Alchemist #edward elric #alphonse elric #ling yao #greedling #fma brotherhood #fmab greed #fma greed

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jishyucks · 4 years ago

Text

And They Were Roommates ‣ ldh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn (?)

‣ wc: 10.7k

‣ summary: “It was unbearable living beneath you and now living with you? No thanks.” ; alternatively where Donghyuck needs a place to stay and you’re the only option left

‣ tw: mentions of a fire happening and its aftermath (nothing drastic and super detailed)

requested by anonymous

a/n: I’m not the best at writing slow burn type of fics so pls forgive me if it seems rushed! Enjoy!

You would have never thought you’d be wishing for some expensive sound proof headphones at four in the morning. Not when you remembered the building owner saying that the place was peaceful and perfect for a university student like you. But because of your upstairs neighbour, Lee Donghyuck, it was bluntly known to those who lived around him that this detail no longer exists with him around.

You suddenly remembered the first night after he had moved in. You were ecstatic to have someone your age in the building. It was a good change from the small families and aging elderly. The idea of making a new friend that lived so close to you brought a deep sense of excitement. But all those thoughts were cleared from your head once you had realized that Donghyuck was going to be that type of neighbour.

He seemed to save graveyard hours for his gaming, not being shy to shout out strings of profanities and shouts of victory with his entire chest. The floors were nearly as thin as paper and everything that spewed from his mouth had gone dead straight into your ears. It was if he was sitting in your living room.

Groaning deeply, you push yourself off of your bed and run your fingers roughly through your hair, preparing yourself to face the devil himself. You slammed a fist into one of your many pillows and stood up, sliding your feet into your slippers in the process. All this energy wasted and sleep lost for one irritating boy that didn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

“No,” Donghyuck smirked, “I’m not going to kindly shut the fuck up.” He leaned against the doorframe and scoffed, “Especially since you asked me.” You could barely see his eyes as his bangs covered them like drapes. In his hand he held his headphones, one of those fancy ones that lit up.

“Don’t make me tape your mouth shut,” you threatened and rolled your eyes, “When are you going to learn?”

The smirk on his face deepened as he leaned closer to you, “Oh I did. But I choose not to apply that knowledge.” He returned to his previous pose, tapping his foot impatiently.

Breathing fire, you scowled and let an angry sound erupt from your chest. You knew it wasn’t going to do anything yet you let it out out of pure frustration.

“Are you done now? I need to get back to gaming,” he stuck a lip out as if he were begging you to leave, but it made you cringe so hard that that alone would have had you willingly fleeing from his floor and back to yours without question.

“No, I’m not done,” you retorted through gritted teeth, “Can you do your fucking��”

“Can you two please keep it down?” Donghyuck’s neighbour had poked her head out her own door, eyes unable to keep open. She was wrapped tightly in a robe and was probably half asleep. You felt bad. You knew how she felt. It was unfortunate that she lived next to a human air horn.

“Yeah, keep it down,” Donghyuck sniggered, directing all fault to you, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo but Y/N here is being quite an irritating little rat. Goodnight, Mrs. Seo.” Without a second thought nor glance, Donghyuck closed the door in your face, making sure to laugh out loud in the process.

You shot him one last glare at him through the door, hoping he’d somehow unconsciously feel the heat from your eyes and flipped him off all before turning sharply towards the stairs.

ii.

Donghyuck wasn’t one to have his moods change quickly. Often he’d spend an entire day in a good mood and if not, a terrible mood. And today, after meeting up with his friends across town, he could sense that this day could not go wrong.

It was about mid-afternoon when he arrived back at the building. From the bus’ view, he had spotted a fire truck parked along the fire lane in front of the apartment building. Off to the side, he could see familiar faces anxiously waiting to get back into their building.

“Mrs. Seo?” Donghyuck was puzzled at the scene. It was as if he’d walked into a movie theatre in the middle of its showing. There was no context provided and he was desperately curious.

“Donghyuck, it’s your room,” she hadn’t held back any information, “I heard Lisa and the twins arriving home from school and they knocked on my door and pointed at smoke leaking from underneath your door… we called the fire department and–“

“Who is the owner of apartment six-jay?” A firefighter slipped through the crowd, voice with great clarity in order for everyone to hear. Donghyuck has raised his hand. Everyone was soon led back into the building, being directed towards the stairs instead of the elevator as they had been shut off.

The firefighters led Donghyuck to his room once everyone had finally gotten to their own apartments. Donghyuck hadn’t completely processed the fact that his home was almost probably all ash. He needed to see it to believe it.

The door had been kicked to the ground, basically demolished. What used to be his kitchen was nothing but darkened wood and his living room was almost unrecognizable. Donghyuck’s mind runs back to all the previous belongings he had that were probably lost in the fire. He felt his shoulders grow heavy and his posture worsened by the second.

“The fire started from your room and it quickly spread throughout the apartment. It’s a wonder how the fire didn’t spread throughout the entire building, but everyone’s lucky that your neighbour had noticed smoke,” the firefighter explained, “The source of the fire was from all of the wires in your room…”

“Is there anything that wasn’t burned?” Donghyuck had finally processed everything. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. Everything was gone.

“You can see so for yourself,” the man had handed Donghyuck some safety gear and a box, “In these conditions, please be aware that there might not be anything left but it is still good to make sure.”

After rummaging through what looked like dirt, Donghyuck soon had come to the realization that the fireman was right. Not even his bed was in good condition. The fire had consumed nearly every single thing that belonged to him, aside from some clothes encased in his closet.

Before the firemen needed to leave, the last one out turned to Donghyuck, “Do you have any place to stay in for the meantime?”

He shrugged, “I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll figure it out… thank you.”

Nearly losing his entire ability to think straight, he found himself sitting on the rusting bench right outside the building. He only had his wallet, his phone, his charger, and the box of clothes that was safe from the flames.

He dialed Renjun first. He lived the closest and the hustle wouldn’t be as bad as going to Jeno’s or Jaemin’s.

“Hyuck? What’s up?” By the sound of it, Renjun was chewing on something crunchy, words muffled by the food.

“Hey, my… home burnt down…” Donghyuck wasn’t quite sure how he should break the news. He was still numb from the realization that he was basically homeless right now.

Renjun choked on his snack, “Your apartment? Like it’s all gone?” He was as shocked as he was when he got the news, “Is everything fine?”

“Yeah it is… except for the fact that I have nowhere to go while they fix it,” he sighed through the line, “T-that’s why I called you… I was wondering if I could possibly stay with you?” Donghyuck kicked his foot against the deteriorating pavement, feeling a slight bit embarrassed. Renjun was silent at the other end, probably thinking up ways this could happen. As the silence grew longer, Donghyuck started to wonder whether or not it was a good or bad thing. Maybe he was already getting stuff ready, or maybe he was trying to think of an easy way to let him down.

“Hyuck?” The tone was bad.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure I can let you stay here… you know I live with Yangyang and Chenle so it’s a bit crowded?” Renjun explained, “You already know I’d let you if there was free space…I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, Jun. I still have one option left so it’s not like you’re my last chance,” trying to brighten the mood, he forced out a small chuckle before he decided that ending the call was the best for him and Renjun, “I’ll see you, tomorrow?”

“I will! Good luck. I hope you find a place to stay.”

“Thanks, Junnie.” And the call ended.

Donghyuck scrolled through his contacts and straight to the J’s. He pressed on ‘Jeno/Jaemin’ as it was the landline and listened to it ring once before Jaemin picked up, “Donghyuckie! What’s up?”

He went through the same process as Renjun, only wishing that their answer was at the opposite of Renjun’s.

“It’s not that we don’t want you to stay with us… but it’s just that we don’t have space and it’ll be embarrassing if we let you stay with us… we’d feel bad for you.”

“You guys are my last chance,” he huffed out, “Where else can I go?”

“Maybe they have extra room on campus?” Jeno rang in, “I heard they have extra rooms in case a random student comes in.”

“I’ll try that… thanks guys.”

“We’re sorry!”

“It’s fine… bye.”

Donghyuck slumped in his seat, straightening his legs underneath him. He would rather not want to pay for an over expensive room at the university… but if that was his only choice, then so be it.

You hopped out of the bus, thanking the driver as you did. It caught Donghyuck’s attention almost immediately, head shooting at your direction. You were completely aware of Donghyuck’s glare and presence, firing back your own well planned glare. The hell was his problem? Quickening your pace, you yanked the door open and practically teleported inside and onto the elevator.

A small grin was soon plastered on Donghyuck’s face. An idea had popped into his head. But he wasn’t quite sure if it was a good one.

A heavy knock at your door had startled you. You were halfway to sleep, a nap calling you helplessly as you stared blankly at the Netflix screen. Whoever stood on the other side of that door didn’t know how to wait. It sounded like this person had a countless number of hands as the knocking didn’t dare stop until you unlocked your door.

You swung the door open to find Donghyuck standing in front of you. The way he held his body didn’t radiate the energy he usually held. It was actually quite depressing to see. It was like for once, Donghyuck wasn’t the vain and rambunctious boy that lived above you. He had his hands deep in his hoodie pockets and he wore a natural pout on his lips.

“What are you doing here?” It was surprisingly natural how the tone in your voice had sounded irritated. You were just used to speaking to him in such a way.

“I’m not here to piss you off,” he mumbled seriously.

You were thrown off at his reply, “Huh?”

“Can I come in?” If you weren’t looking at him as he spoke, you could probably hear his frown, “Please?” The sincerity in his eyes really proved that he was desperate about something and you weren’t quite sure what.

You wearily shuffled behind your door and let him through. Closing the door behind him, you turn around and see him rocking back and forth in place. It was weird seeing him in your home, “Okay… speak.”

“My entire apartment was burned. There’s basically nothing left,” he explained, “They said it was some type of electrical mishap because of my gaming stuff.”

If it was the right moment, you’d make fun of him for it. But you held yourself back as you sensed that the Donghyuck in front of you was not in the mood for pestering. How did you not know that the apartment directly above you had basically vanished from flames? “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that… and why are you telling me this?”

It took awhile for him to reply. He stared down at your feet, unable to string the right words together. It was a weird type of silence.

“I’m telling you this because I have a proposition.”

You sit down on your couch, “A proposition?”

“You know, like a proposal…”

“I know what a fucking proposition is, dumbass. What is it?” Donghyuck has never failed to provoke you.

“You let me stay here until they fix my place… and once I move back, I won’t make a single peep after one o’clock,” a sheepish expression surfaced on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“Don’t you have friends?” you held back a laugh.

“I do, but none of them can take me in… you’re literally my only hope right now.”

“No. It was unbearable living beneath you and now living with you? No thanks,” you stood up and approached your door. Sure you felt kind of bad for him, but there was no way you were going to let this clown live with you.

He stopped your hand from turning the knob before he fell to his knees. He begged, “Please~ Please, Y/N! I’ll try not to keep you awake, I just need a place to sleep and eat and…” His bottom lip jutted out like a little toddler who was dying to play games on your phone.

You push him lightly out your door and sighed, “Look I’m really not looking for a roommate right now.” And it was true. There was a reason that you were still living alone after months of starting university.

“Please?” He sounded desperate now.

“No, Donghyuck,” you answered, “How about beg one of your friends?”

“I’m going to sit out here until you let me in,” he threatened.

“Do I look like I care? Because I don’t,” you say bluntly. You closed the door and went back to the nap you were ever so craving. If Donghyuck really was going to sit outside of your apartment, then let him. He was going to give up anyway.

The echoing sound of your empty stomach woke you up from your nap. The sunset being framed by your window indicated that it was inching closer to dinner time. A reminder had popped into your head that your kitchen held no groceries for dinner, meaning that you had to eat out and buy groceries. Which was perfectly fine with you.

Opening your apartment door, you feel a somewhat heavy object fall abruptly onto your feet. You shut your eyes tight, afraid that if you looked down you’d see something straight out of a horror film. It took a prolonged moment for you to actually build up the courage to open your eyes and look down.

Once you had reached the minimum amount of courage, you looked to your feet and found Donghyuck holding his head. He continued to curse under his breath, looking up at you, obviously irritated about what had just happened.

“Donghyuck, what the fuck?” You hit him with your purse, mostly because of how frightened you had been, “What the hell are you doing there?”

“I told you. I’m sitting out here until you let me stay with you,” he stood up and dusted off his pants, “I fell asleep.”

You gave him a dead look, not having it with him. This was the most you had conversed with him in one day and you really had to admit that talking to someone like Donghyuck was rather tiresome. Your door locked behind you as you pushed past him, ignoring the way he stood up with the built up energy he had in his body.

“Where are you going?” he followed you willingly. “Dinner. Groceries,” you mumbled. You were praying for the elevator to come faster.

“I’m coming with you,” he stated, standing at your side.

“No you’re not.”

As if the film had cut to the next scene, you found yourself sitting across from Donghyuck at a nearby McDonald’s. He was munching on his nth chicken nugget, cold drink in the other, as he blinked at whatever car drove past the building. The silence was awkward, but you’d rather it be awkward than hear his voice for at least the entirety of your stay at the restaurant. With his backpack sitting next to him, he looked like one of those kids you’d baby sit right after school.

Once you finished, you threw your garbage on the way out and started to walk to the grocery store right across the street. It wasn’t a surprise to you when you hear the nearing footsteps of Donghyuck. He didn’t say anything, he sort of just floated next to you.

Upon entering the store, you were actually relieved to see that Donghyuck had gone his own way. At first you thought about packing your cart with all that you needed and leaving him. But then you realized that there was seriously no use because he knew where you lived. At this realization, you decided that taking time was better on your energy level.

About ten minutes into the shopping trip, you were bent down in the ramen aisle, eyeing down which spice level you should get. Often, you’d get mild, but you found yourself needing more than what the package provided. The only thing holding you back was what if the ultra spicy was too spicy? Then it’d be a waste of ramen.

“Oh there you are,” Donghyuck had slipped into the aisle with his own basket full of goods, “I thought you left me or something.”

You glare at him before giving up and throwing both flavours into your cart, “You better be paying for your own stuff.” You start to roll it down to the front of the store and to self checkout.

“Of course I am,” he dropped his own basket to the checkout next to yours and started doing his own thing.

There was still a bit of hope in you that maybe, hopefully, one of Donghyuck’s friends would offer him a nice place to stay in instead of yours. But when you still felt the boy’s presence behind you as you left your apartment building’s elevator, you knew damn well that he really wasn’t going anywhere.

You groaned and turned around to face him. You noticed that you had startled him by the way his eyes widened and how he jumped back a bit, “You’re really not going to leave me alone, are you?” At this point, your fingers were grazing your door’s handle.

You thought about it on the way up. If you did let Donghyuck stay with you, you could tell him what to do and what not to do. It would be amusing. If he ever refused, you could tell him that he would have to find another place to stay. You could use it to your advantage.

Shaking his head, Donghyuck straightened his back, “Nope. Not at all.” His determination said it all. It was weaved with hints of desperation and you knew how easy it would be to persuade the boy into doing anything.

“Okay then…” you unlocked your door and gently pushed it open, “I’ll let you stay with me.” Before he could rejoice, you stopped him, “But on a few conditions.”

He nodded, “Anything.”

“Keep up your end of the bargain, the one you said earlier,” you started, “You can’t make any noise when I say so. Boundaries are important. No long showers. Remember that you’re a guest under my roof.”

“As long as I have a place to stay, then I’ll follow your rules,” he stated seriously. You weren’t sure if you could trust him or not. After all, it was Donghyuck. Not even 24 hours ago, his noise had woken you up from your sleep.

You motioned for him to enter first since you still needed to take your home key out. As he approached the interior end of your apartment, he beamed brightly at you. Donghyuck, who has lost control of himself due to the wave of relief he was feeling, brought himself to give you a short hug of gratitude. His arms had wrapped tightly over your shoulders. You froze at the contact.

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered. He took a few steps back and smiled sheepishly at you, “W-where should I put my stuff?”

Still in shock from contact with Donghyuck, you couldn’t answer or think straight. You waddled to your kitchen counter and dropped your bags after you had closed and locked the door, “There’s a room down the… hall and to the right. That’s the extra room.”

“Thanks.” He smiled again and you were genuinely taken aback by how this boy, who was usually obnoxious and annoying, was acting. You blinked back at him and watched as he disappeared the deeper he had gone down the hall.

His duality was scary. It was unpredictable. It was the reason why you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

iii.

When Donghyuck said he’d follow your rules, you didn’t have any hopes in him actually following them. You knew how Donghyuck was. He’d lie to someone in order to get something he’d want in return. And this is one of those occasions.

Donghyuck gladly followed your ‘boundaries’ rule which at first seemed a bit rude as he didn’t even greet you in the mornings or evenings. You were letting him stay with you and you figured that that was probably better than nothing. After a bit of thinking, avoiding convos with Donghyuck would probably be a lot better than bickering that would probably wear you out over the period of his stay.

The only time these said ‘avoided’ convos would happen would be when Donghyuck couldn’t find the appropriate time to make noise and he would not listen when you told him to shut up. It was like you were practically babysitting a toddler, maybe even six of them, and they all would not listen to you.

It wasn’t often that you would physically go to the guest bedroom to tell him to shut up. Usually, you’d be the bigger person and try to mind your own business, but when you remembered that this was your home and not his, you decided to actually put a stop to it before you lost it.

You knocked twice on the door, hearing Donghyuck’s reply not even a moment after, “Come in!” He goes back to yelling at whoever he was playing with on the phone. When you had actually entered, you found him slumped against the headboard, headphones sitting ungracefully on his head.

“Can you… quiet down?” You put on a customer service-esque voice, “Please.”

Donghyuck didn’t let his eyes leave his screen, fingers going crazy on it’s touchscreen, “Nope.” You scowled at him, brows furrowing at the audacity this boy had.

“It’s almost one in the morning,” you pointed out.

“Didn’t know you were some kind of human clock,” he mumbled. The majority of his attention was still pinned on the screen, eyes darting towards you to see if you had gone and left the room.

You feel the expression on your face intensify. Walking up to the side of the bed, you grabbed his phone.

“What the hell?” He sat up and grabbed his phone back from you, “I’m not even that loud, quit being sensitive.” He quickly finished his game and shut his phone off, focusing on this situation with you.

“How about I kick you out by tomorrow morning?” you say as if you were bargaining. You knew that this was one way to get Donghyuck to shut the fuck up. Judging by how desperate he was before, you knew he had no other choice but to listen to you.

At this mention, he shut his mouth and frowned, “The fuck? Just because this once?”

“Quit being sensitive,” you mocked, “If you wanna stay in this room until your apartment is finished, you really need to watch how loud you’re being.” Seeing how much Donghyuck’s mood changed, you smirked. It worked.

“Fine…” He retorted, “Whatever.”

You huffed and turned to leave, the smirk reappearing on your face.

Y/N: 1

Donghyuck: 0

Leaving the apartment to Donghyuck for a weekend wasn’t something that you were quite in favour of. You, along with Yeji and Lia, had planned an entire weekend trip for the long weekend, and of course you were excited for it, but that was when Donghyuck’s apartment was still intact. Now that you knew we were leaving your beloved haven with Donghyuck, you were hesitant to actually go on said trip. But (no) thanks to Lia, she convinced you to come after hours of persuasion.

Upon returning, your heart dropped at the idea that Donghyuck might’ve burnt down your own apartment as well. But seeing that the door was still standing, you feel a slight wave of relief wash over.

“Thank goodness,” you mumbled.

Slowly, you unlocked your door and nudged it open. That was when you knew you had spoken too soon. What once was your nice and cozy, neat home had turned into some kind of new rat’s hole. It wasn’t too messy, but it just wasn’t something you were used to nor expecting. The coffee was filled with used dishes, the carpet had bits of crumbs everywhere, wrappers scattered on your previous couch, and the kitchen was littered with groceries that weren’t put back in its place. What made everything else worse was that you could hear Donghyuck yelling in the back, playing games instead of cleaning up his mess.

“Son of a bitch.”

You dropped your bags and made a beeline to the guest room, opening it without knocking, “The fucking audacity you have, Lee Donghyuck.”

“There’s something called knocking,” he scoffed.

“Clean my apartment,” you ordered, “I left this place clean.” You were fuming. This was the main reason why you didn’t want to leave, “I’m letting you stay here, as a guest, and you choose to treat it like it’s your own house. At least clean up after yourself.”

“I was, I just thought you were coming back tomorrow, not today,” he shrugged. Donghyuck redirected his focus to his phone, corner of his mouth angling up.

“Lee Donghyuck I swear if you’re starting another game, I’m kicking you out,” you warned. It was the same reason as before, only this time you were dead serious. This time you weren’t treating it as some sort of way to control him.

“If that’s what you want,” he stands up and bows, “Madame.” Donghyuck walks around you, hands in his pockets as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He knows he’s pissing you off and he’s enjoying it. What the hell is wrong with him?

You leave his room and grab your bags before dragging yourself into your room. Two strikes… three and he’s out.

You believed that home cooked meals were a lot more healthier than most of the affordable food you could get when you eat out. Which is why you opted to cook your own meals for half or possibly more than half of the week. Though they were often just simple recipes either your mom had taught you or ones you’ve seen on tv or youtube, you still took a lot of pride in those meals.

Trekking into the kitchen, you scrolled through the many possible recipes you could complete on your phone, mentally noting the ingredients. You pulled open the fridge, rummaging through its contents trying to find the specific items, which you clearly remembered you bought not even a week ago. Muttering underneath your breath, your mind wanders over to the other living being in your home. There was no way that those groceries could have magically disappeared, not in this universe at least.

Closing the fridge, you make your way to the pantry, still puzzled on the missing groceries, “I swear I bought a whole pack just last weekend.” But after scavenging the pantry, none of the ingredients you needed were sitting there waiting to be used.

“Lee Donghyuck!” you called.

Said boy appeared in the kitchen moments later, posture reflecting the fact that he did not want to be there, “What do you want now?” It was like you were living with a teenager.

“Did you eat all the food I bought?” usually you wouldn’t just accuse one of something, but knowing you hadn’t touched those groceries, Donghyuck was the only possible culprit for the missing food.

“Yes, and?”

“You do know those groceries were for our meals, right?” You walked past him and crouched down to the snack cabinet, opening it, “This is literally empty! Those were all my snacks! Who said you could eat whatever was in there?”

“I was hungry? I’m a guest, I should be able to do so.”

You wonder why Donghyuck would even be acting like he was if he knew that a place to stay was at stake, “You’re a guest, but not like that…” Again you change locations, “Where the hell are your manners? You sure as hell know that I hesitated letting you live with me and you choose to test me almost every other day! A one year old toddler knows better than you! Dumb shit, why did I even agree to you staying here?”

“One year olds can’t even complete an entire sentence,” he jokingly argued, “Isn’t that a bit too far?”

“Me? Too far? You’re taking it too far! You have no idea when to stop being immature!” The volume in your voice was increasing, “You’re twenty fucking years old, Donghyuck. You should be able to know when it’s good and when it’s bad to mess around.”

Simultaneously, he stands up and gives you an expression of hurt and anger, all in one. You could tell that you’ve actually, for once, offended him just by the look in his eyes. He muttered something underneath his breath before he started walking towards your door. Swiftly, he unlocked it, slipping out and shutting it without another peep.

Stunned, you blinked at the door, confused as to what had just happened. The silence that replaced the prior argument seemed to be louder than the argument itself… and you didn’t like that.

You leaned against the kitchen counter and sighed. Where would he go? He didn’t have another place to stay and he left basically all his stuff in his room. Where would he go?

You dismissed the feelings of worry and guilt, shaking it all off before you locked the door and made your way to your room. You lost your appetite. You’ll just eat later.

In between your songs, the banging at your door caused your heart rate to escalate. You rolled over in your bed, almost falling off and straight onto your face, and ran to the door, not even thinking of looking through the peephole. Right as you threw the door open, Donghyuck pushed past you and straight to the kitchen.

“Donghyuck?” It was then you noticed he was holding bags of groceries, both of his hands white from the weight. He put them down softly beside the kitchen counter, stretching his back from relief.

“Fuck the grocery store and not letting me take the cart home,” he rested his upper body on the counter and took a quick breather, as if he had ran a 12k marathon.

“What is all this?” It was obviously clear to you what it was; bags filled with groceries, most of which were the ones he used up. The question was more specifically directed towards him and his sudden act of kindness.

“Groceries,” he replied. Even when exhausted, Donghyuck’s wit outshone.

“Well no shit…” you say, “I mean why.”

“I… thought about what you said,” he exhaled deeply. Donghyuck was irritated at how he was letting you win, “And you’re right. I’ve been acting like a dumbass. Especially since you’re letting me stay here.” To avoid the awkward eye contact, he decided to start sorting out the groceries, “I’m… really sorry. It didn’t occur to me how I was acting. From now on, I’ll actually act my age to make it up to you. I’ll act like a proper guest.”

You feel a small smile creep up onto your lips, “Donghyuck?” He hummed. “I forgive you.” You paused for a moment, “And I’m sorry for earlier… my emotions took control of me. I couldn’t hold myself back.” He chuckles lightly, turning to you, “It’s okay, it’s understandable…” He hears his own stomach growl. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you make dinner now? I’m starving.”

iv.

You glared at Donghyuck at the corner of your eyes as it sounded like he was purposely turning up the volume of his game. The background music, character voices, weapons slashing, and shooting, they all started to drown out the show you decided to put on the tv. You decided not to point it out at first because of a goal you had made to not seem like such a buzzkill all the time.

“This is the best weapon in the game,” he grinned proudly, “It’s my baby. My pride and joy.” The tv screen in front of you was suddenly blocked by Donghyuck’s phone screen. At the same time, the couch had dipped down slightly as he shifted over to you. He held the device there for longer than you cared, hand shaking as seconds passed. It almost made you laugh.

“Mmhmm,” you hum monotony, trying your best to keep your eyes on the screen, “That’s really cool.”

Donghyuck sat back in his spot, “You know I’m not stupid enough to not hear the sarcasm in your voice.” He tapped a few buttons to join the queue of the game.

“I know… I just don’t care,” you finally turned to face him, “Why don’t you just play that in your room? I’m trying to watch and all I hear are shooting sounds.” And at that you turned the volume up by two.

“It’s… quiet in my room,” he says quietly, “I’ll just turn my volume down.” Staying with you had caused Donghyuck to realize how lonely it actually was just staying in a single room the entire night with his eyes not leaving the screen. He figured that maybe, when you were planted on the couch, he’d hang around you for a nice change.

Keeping your gaze forward. Though it was hopefully not obvious on the outside, you were thrown off by Donghyuck’s compliance. Turning ever-so-slightly, you peered at the boy. His head was bowed in order to look at his phone screen but, even so, you could see the tip of his tongue peek out between his lips. He looked so focused that you almost laughed out loud. Never did you think that a boy as garish as Hyuck would ever reach a state like that. He looked… cute.

You forced your eyes back to the television and knocked the thought out of your head like with a mental baseball bat. There’s no way you just thought that Donghyuck was cute. No way.

It hadn’t occurred to Donghyuck that you weren’t awake to leave in time for the bus until he already turned the front door’s knob halfway and his eyes had fallen on the only pair of shoes you would wear. He let go of the doorknob and kicked his own sneakers off of his feet, letting out a low groan only for him to hear. He knows that you probably worked on school work until late, which he found stupid since you could not, for the life of you, wake up later on to go to school.

Donghyuck knocked twice and waited for a reply, letting himself in when he hadn’t heard one. He snuck his head through the gap he made and set his eyes on your bed. He snorted at the sight of your passed out figure, leg sticking out from underneath the blanket and hanging off of your bed. Your mouth was wide open, freely giving flies a good place to hang out. Your textbooks and notes were scattered at the foot of your bed, your other foot leaving creases in them.

“Y/N, wake up you’re late,” he shook your shoulder, bending down a tad bit closer, “Wake up!”

Groaning, you shifted and grabbed his hand from your shoulder to push it away, “Donghyuck, can you please shut the fuck up?” You were unable to open your eyelids and your throat was still dry. Donghyuck continued to force his hand to your shoulder to shake you again, but you countered it with your own elbow strength.

“Hey the bus comes in a few minutes and you’re barely awake,” Donghyuck noted, “Hey wake up.”

For some reason, you hadn’t processed what he was saying. You genuinely believed he was only in there to irritate you at such an early hour. Refusing to retract his elbow, he applied a bit more pressure down onto you.

“Stop it!” you blindly swung an arm at his inner elbow which caused it to bend at contact. Donghyuck fell forward and onto you, all of it happening so fast that he couldn’t save himself. His face was only inches from yours, though you hadn’t noticed until your eyes had shot open from the sudden realization of the collision. The both of you laid there for a brief moment, staring at each other with wide eyes. It was all purely out of shock, like deer in headlights.

When you had processed it all, you rolled over, “Get out of my room!” It was then that you were suddenly aware of the situation. Classes started in less than an hour, the bus leaves in two minutes, and you were still not dressed. Curse the psychology homework you left until last minute.

Donghyuck pushes himself up, “I’m only here to help you!” He argued, “You know what? Why did I even try? I should’ve just left you here and let you miss your classes.” And at that, Donghyuck turned and exited your room, leaving your door open.

He jogged out of the apartment, slipping his nikes on as if they were crocs, creasing them carelessly. If you were the reason why he could be late, he wouldn’t know how he’d react. He just knew that he wouldn’t want that.

Donghyuck was just in time for the bus, greeting the driver quickly before finding a place to sit on the bus. He placed himself near the back at a window seat, leaning his head against the glass after he finally took the time to tuck his heels properly into his shoes. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His heart was beating faster than normal, adrenaline running through his body, only he wasn’t sure if it was from the thought of being late to class or because of what just happened between him and you.

You always set aside Friday nights for self care and movie nights. You’d put on a cheap drugstore face mask, dump a whole bag of your favourite chips into a bowl, pour yourself a cold drink, and pick out whatever movie that looked appealing. It was rather an ordinary routine, but you liked to think of it as something special.

Resting against the couch, you decided to pull up To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, hoping to watch the first and second movie even though you already watched both when they were initially released.

“Hey Y/N, have you– oh hey, it’s that Noah dude that’s in every Netflix movie,” Donghyuck has emerged from his room, the first time since you both arrived from school. He leaned over the back of the couch and took in whatever scene was playing on the screen, “What are you watching?”

You turn around, face covered in an unnatural shade of purple, making Donghyuck jump a bit, “To all the boys I’ve loved before.”

“That sounds really dumb,” he snorted, but nonetheless he sits down on the cushion next to you.

You questioned his actions, glaring at him, “If you think it’s stupid, why does it look like you’re here to watch it.”

“I have nothing better to do. None of my friends are online,” he shrugged. Reaching over, he grabs a can of pop from the coffee table, snapping it open before taking a purposefully loud sip, “So why not?”

“I’ll only let you watch if you shut up,” you turn the volume up by one, “Okay?” He nods understandingly as he mirrors your resting figure on the couch. After what seemed like five minutes, he stretches his arm out to grab a handful of chips before throwing them all into his mouth at once.

“So… he’s only pretending to date her to make the blonde girl jealous?” It was astonishing to you how you actually understood everything he said through his mouth full of chips. He didn’t even try speaking loudly either.

“Basically,” you hummed in response.

“Does it work though?” He questioned after swallowing.

“Shhh, Donghyuck, just watch,” you flick his knee, directing an unamused look at his direction, “You’ll see.”

For a good portion of the movie, Donghyuck chose to keep comments to himself. Every time he would want to say something, he’d hold himself back, silently reacting to the rather dramatic parts of the film. It was admittedly a cute movie. He hadn’t seen anything like it in a while.

“Wait! It’s just a misunderstanding!” Donghyuck gasped. His legs were crossed underneath him, eyes planted semi-permanently on the screen, “She took that scrunched from him! He didn’t give it to her! Just when everything seemed fine.” You snickered at how into the movie he was. You didn’t react like he was when you first watched the movie.

“It’s so obvious that Gen did it,” He muttered, “Who the hell else would do it? She’s jealous as hell. Can she stop please?” From the corner of your eye, you could see that Donghyuck was close to throwing one of your throw pillows.

“I mean, at least Peter’s plan worked,” you responded quietly, sinking back into the couch, “It’s just that now it doesn’t really matter if it worked or not.”

“She’s acting like they’re still a thing,” Donghyuck scoffed, “They’re not.” He was one hundred percent for Lara Jean and Peter and it was actually pretty amusing in a cute way. But you weren’t saying that out loud, you’ll gladly keep it to yourself.

The movie slowly came to the end, wrapping up like it did in the books. “Why does she walk like that though,” he laughed, “Who walks like that normally?” He lays back against the couch and grins, “That was actually a good film…”

He was so immersed in the film that he hadn’t noticed that you had fallen asleep by the end, head falling in a strange way against the armrest of the couch. The way your chest had risen and fallen in such a calm and constant rhythm indicated to Donghyuck that you were having a good slumber. He didn’t want to wake you up. Not when you seemed so peaceful.

His eyes shifted to the thin blanket you already brought with you, clutched in your hand, then back to your face. He couldn’t help but trace your features with his eyes. There was no other time that he would be able to do this. When you were awake, you were too aware about everything he did, or what went on around you, but in this state, you were the complete opposite. He smiled softly at your serene figure, quickly shaking his head at the sudden change in image you had created in his head for that brief moment. As if it was something he’d do often, he easily laid your blanket over you, making sure it covered you chest down. I just need sleep, he thought, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Mutualistic (symbiotic) relationships in nature worked as so: both organisms in the relationship would both completely benefit from the other. It was funny to think that such relationships were always so dynamic. Who would have thought that an animal as large as a crocodile would benefit from a bird as tiny as the plover. It was interesting how it worked like that.

As weeks had passed with Donghyuck still living in your guest room, the both of you had noticed that having each other as temporary roommates actually wasn’t that bad. A parasitic relationship had slowly evolved into a mutual one and you wondered if something like this could actually happen out in nature.

You noted this shift when Donghyuck had arrived home from a study group with bags filled with groceries. Sure it wasn’t the first time he’d taken the action to do so, knowing how much you struggled with carrying bags home, but this time was different.

It was nothing drastic or overly significant, but it was something that caught your eye immediately and you couldn’t help feel your chest warm up a bit. Donghyuck had bought all of your favourite snacks and candies. Even the ones you couldn’t usually find in the grocery store you’d usually shop at. They were all bunched into one separate bag, indicating that this was in no case a coincidence. And at that thought you smiled and looked up at him, only he didn’t catch you looking. He was far too busy sorting the rest of the groceries into their respective spots.

“Thanks Donghyuck,” you say, quietly. Though it sounded like you were thanking him for doing another round of grocery shopping, this time, it was directed more towards his little deed.

“It’s no problem,” he offered a tight lipped smile before scrunching the bags into messy balls, stuffing them into a small bin with others. He turned back to the counter, realizing that he hadn’t unpacked the bag filled with your favourites, “You can do those right?” It wasn’t like he couldn’t do them himself. It was just that those were all meant for you.

You nodded, “Did you do this on purpose?” You started to take the snacks out of the bag, “These are my favourites.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widened out of panic of being exposed but you weren’t aware of his mood change as he quickly fixed his composure, “No? I mean… they just looked good so I got them.”

He was lying and you knew, “Mmhmm… that grocery store I shop at doesn’t even sell these.” You held up a flavourful bag of gummy bears.

“I passed by a corner store and got them.” Lying again. But this time you just hummed.

“Whatever you say, Hyuck.” The nickname had slipped out of your mouth so naturally that you didn’t catch yourself saying it. Donghyuck was obviously thrown off by the name, feeling his heart skip a beat for the second time in five minutes, “Thank you.”

He scoffed, trying to tap back into his usual self, “For buying food for me? Ah, you’re welcome.” Before you could say anything else, he rushed to his room, making up some lame excuse just to get out of the conversation.

It was funny because that wasn’t the last time he bought your favourites.

Donghyuck noticed this shift himself when he came home one day with his clothes neatly folded on his bed. The last time he’s seen his clothes, they were all piled at the corner of the room, dirty with sweat or generally smelling like it’s been soaking up the sun.

He dropped his bag by the room’s door, curiosity taking hold of him as he walked up to the folded clothes. They were clean. He smiled, sorting them out so they were organized the way he wanted them to be.

He could recall how he had told you he had no time to do laundry. From school and extra shifts at work, he was growing frustrated with everything that’s been piling up, finding no time to take care of himself at home. He had been re-wearing the clothes that seemed clean enough just to get through his day.

Leaving his room with a bit of pep in his step, he enters the kitchen where you had been working on some assignment. You didn’t look up, even with the hint of his presence, too indulged in your work.

“Y/N,” He strayed towards the dishwasher, grabbing a cup as if he was only there to grab water. Glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, waiting for your reply.

“What, Donghyuck?” you muttered. You weren’t trying to come off as rude but you didn’t want to lose the focus you had built up in the last 30 minutes. You typed away, ears perked up in order to hear the nonsense that could be coming out his mouth any second now.

“Thanks for doing my laundry,” he says sincerely. He chugged down the water that he poured into his glass and quickly washed the cup, “It doesn’t seem like a lot but it truly is.”

You finally look up at him, fingers pausing abruptly. Your eyebrows were raised, shocked at the tone in Donghyuck’s voice, “It’s no problem. I know that you’ve been busy. And you still buy groceries even when you’re running low on time.” And it was true. In a way it was your only way of giving back aside from letting him stay at your place.

Donghyuck couldn’t do anything but smile. He bowed his head slightly to reply wordlessly to you before retreating back slowly to his room.

Your thumb switched between the right arrow button and the down arrow button, scrolling through the selection of movies shown on the screen. The past half an hour, you had been trying to settle with a film that suited your mood, but since the movies seem quite uninteresting, time was being wasted.

Mentally, you kept a list of movies that stood out more than others, only not finally deciding because you opted to choose more options. The third Harry Potter film was among those, and honestly, looking at the rest of the movies, you really were leaning towards rewatching it instead of taking a risk and watching a one star film.

Double checking if you had everything you needed, you pressed a button to start it, the warner bros logo appearing after a dark screen. There was a hint of background music playing and a house appears after the logo. Then, you hear a door open and close, followed by light footsteps. You sit unbothered, already knowing what was about to happen.

“Oh, a movie?” Donghyuck’s voice bounced around the room and over the movie’s soundtrack, “I didn’t know you were watching a movie.” His footsteps grew softer indicating that he was on his way to the kitchen just a few feet from the couch. You stifle a laugh and shake your head slightly. Of course. It wasn’t the first time Donghyuck had coincidentally walked in right when you started a movie. It happened last week and the night ended up with him sleeping with the lights on. You knew that he started to like these unspoken movie nights. And you did too.

You keep quiet as you preferred to listen to the film than reply to the curious boy, already knowing he was getting ready to take his usual seat next to you.

“Is this Harry Potter?” And as you predicted, the right side of the couch dips down slightly under Donghyuck’s weight. He sets down his own cup of pop and a movie snack in front of him.

“Yeah, the third one,” you blinked at the screen, “It’s probably my favourite one.”

“I’ve only seen the first one,” he states, “So you have to catch me up a bit.”

You sighed, “It’s okay, it’s easy to understand.”

Donghyuck takes a slight glance in your direction. You were slumped, cross legged, underneath your blanket, bag of chips sitting on your lap and a can of pop in your left hand. You looked cuddly. You didn’t know it. And Donghyuck didn’t know this until he had the sudden urge to scoot over to your side in order to feel completely comfortable.

Subtly, Donghyuck shifts his weight from one side to the other, crossing his legs. His knee sat rather closely to yours. A part of him did it on purpose, leaving the rest stunned at the close interaction. You didn’t move away, mostly because your knee was covered with your blanket. You couldn’t tell the difference between the blanket and Donghyuck’s knee.

Again he took a peek at you unconsciously, brain and muscle control seemingly working separately. He admitted it to himself he liked these movie nights. Even if you both unspokenly only had three. It was different from how he’d usually spend nights alone. It was a good different.

His phone buzzed, Jeno’s name popping up on the screen: Sick again? Feel better :)

Quickly unlocking his phone, he had texted back a ‘thanks Jeno’ before setting it back down in the crack of the couch. He had declined an invite from Jeno to go see a movie in the theatres in an hour, but the idea of spending the night just on the couch seemed much more appealing than having to go out and get ready to do the same thing.

One more time, in the corner of his eye he took in your figure. Whether he stayed home because he was too lazy to get ready or because he secretly wanted to spend time with you… we’ll never know.

vi.

“Thank you so much for the update.”

You had walked in after an energy draining shift to Donghyuck getting off the phone. The way he smiled caused him to embody happiness, radiating sunshine as he beamed at you.

“You look fucking stupid,” you say to break the silence creeping up on both of you. In reality he didn’t look stupid, he looked like a cute little kid being told news he was going on a fun family trip.

“My apartment’s done in a week!” He did a small dance to express what he was feeling, his smile not faltering one bit.

Your heart dropped a bit, the feeling of disappointment overtaking it. You brushed it aside, “That’s great to hear! Now I can kick you out for good.” You let out a small laugh to indicate it was a harmless joke before you make your way to your room, this conversation being something you want to avoid.

You had grown used to Donghyuck. His noise, his presence on the Friday movie nights, the never-empty fridge and pantry due to his constant visits to the grocery store. It was weird thinking that that’d be all gone by next week. You would have never thought you’d want him to stay…?

The hell? I want him to stay?

You flicked your own forehead before shaking it as if water had gone into your ear. You shake it to get rid of those thoughts you were ever so scared of confronting.

You sat down on your bed and sighed. Funny how over a month ago you strongly yearned for Donghyuck to leave. You wanted nothing to do with him, threatening to kick him out everytime he ever so slightly crossed the line. But now, you wouldn’t think twice seeing the boy passed out on the couch. You wouldn’t mind him taking up time in the washroom or yelling at ungodly hours at night. It was clear that he had grown on you. And instead of being thrilled that you’d get your apartment back to yourself, you were secretly hoping that time would move a bit slower just so Donghyuck wouldn’t move back any sooner.

Donghyuck made his way back to the guest room, a bittersweet feeling lingering in his chest. The news he had just gotten was great. It was information he had been waiting for for the past few weeks. But he had such a good time staying with you… he wondered if your guys’ relationship would be the same as it is now when he does move back. It’s not like he was leaving the city. He was literally only moving a floor up. If you both stood directly in the same spot in your apartments, you would be closer to each other than you would be staying in the same apartment and different rooms.

Would it be weird to ask you if you would still be friends? Maybe a little bit. But if Donghyuck had to do it, to ensure the growing worry in himself, then he’d do it.

Symbiotic relationships were easy to understand. It was grade seven level science after all. But something that wasn’t as simple to understand was the fact that you were actually going to miss Lee Donghyuck once he moved back to his apartment.

There was still that little voice inside of you that was telling you to quit it. That he was moving back tomorrow and after he does move, you probably won’t even have the same relationship as now. It was better to cut those arising feelings short before they actually endure.

Donghyuck has been spending a bit less time in your apartment and in his, making sure everything was good to go once he returned to his man hole. You could hear his voice through the ceiling. It honestly sucked because you wanted to spend the last week just spending time with him.

“How’s everything going?” You questioned as he appeared through the front door. You were on your way to your room, notebook and laptop sitting snugly in your arms. The time was drawing close to eleven and you could feel the residence of the apartment building all going to sleep. You figured it was time for you to go to bed too.

“Almost set,” he replied quietly, “I can finish them tomorrow.” A silence hung in the air as you tapped your fingertips against the edge of your laptop.

“That’s good.” Though it wasn’t obvious to Donghyuck, you had tried to force the content tone blanketing over the mixed emotions, “Well goodnight… will I still you tomorrow?”

You remembered Donghyuck saying he was moving back early morning, but knowing him and his habits, it would probably be postponed till midday.

“Maybe,” he laughed softly, “Maybe not.”

You let a laugh similar to his before backing into your room and shutting the door. Sighing heavily, you dragged yourself to your desk and set your things down. Maybe you should wake up early just to say goodbye.

Donghyuck smiles at your door, before calling it a night himself. Tomorrow he was moving back and tomorrow he wanted to tell you something. Maybe.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck had woken up before his alarm which was set to go off at nine in the morning. He sighs and blinks at his door a couple of times before getting up and making the bed, wanting it to look presentable for when you come in to clean it.

After he had followed his usual routine, changing into day clothes, brushing his teeth, washing his face, and fixing his hair, he set his backpack down beside the door beside his shoes. He stood there for a moment, resting his hands on his hips and huffed. Within his chest he could feel that same bittersweet feeling he felt about a week ago when he was told his apartment was finished.

Unconsciously, he turned back towards the hallway and stood in front of your room. Is Y/N sleeping? He questioned himself. Probably, he countered. Though his head was telling him to not bother you, his body had decided that it was a great idea to knock, not once but twice.

“Come in.” Unexpectedly, you had replied, voice sounding like you had been awake for a while. And the truth was, you had been awake since eight, unable to go out and face Donghyuck.

“Can I talk to you?” Donghyuck’s head was barely pushed through the crack he had made, door hiding anything below his eyes.

You were partly laying down in your bed, phone in hand. Sitting up, you nodded, “Yeah of course, what’s up?” You watched Donghyuck swing the door so that his entire body was visible. He had a sheepish smile on his face, eyes unable to sit on you as he glanced around your room.

“I just wanted to say thank you for letting me stay here,” he says seriously, finally bringing himself to look at you, “I really do owe you shit… I owe you so much. So if you need me, then I’ll do anything.”

You couldn’t help but feel the inside of your chest warm up to your temporary roommate. A smile crept up onto your face and you nodded, “I got to be honest, you already know this, but I really didn’t want you staying with me… but I guess it wasn’t that bad at the end. No problem.”

He bows his head gently and turns to leave, only stopping to turn around again, “Oh by the way, I don’t think you’ll hear me causing a ruckus for a bit because I still need to save up for new equipment.”

You laughed and joked, “Sounds good to me.”

“Bye Y/N.” Donghyuck licks his eyes with yours for a prolonged moment, sparkling in yours. Your stomach bursts with butterflies, feeling yourself squeal internally at this type of contact.

“Bye Hyuck.” And at that he leaves.

You were engulfed with a heavy feeling that you weren’t usually familiar with when it came to Donghyuck. Often you’d know if it were hate or annoyance or amusement. But this was different. The flame in your chest was growing stronger and this time you really couldn’t ignore it. You cringe at the butterflies in your stomach that were alive than never before.

Once you heard the door to your apartment close, that was when you finally gave in to that feeling that started to grow slowly and subtly without your knowledge.

You liked Donghyuck… you really liked Donghyuck and there obviously was no running from it now.

Donghyuck enters his apartment and is immediately greeted with silence. Though he’s only stayed at your apartment for about a month, he without a doubt had grown to get used to your presence greeting him at the door. It was just weird now. He should’ve asked you to help him sort his new furniture. Then he could be around you longer for a good reason and that could give him a chance to actually ask you if you guys could still be friends.

He loved your presence. He loved the movie nights you both had and the short yet amusing banters. You two actually complimented each other well despite the fact that at first you two seemed to be polar opposites… but that was it, you guys were opposites but that was why you both went well together. He loved the friendship that you guys had managed to muster up within a month.

Involuntarily, Donghyuck shakes his head at the thought of being just friends. A friendship was far different from what he wanted. And at that conclusion, he made up his mind. He liked you, maybe closer to love than like. He wanted more, and it took him this long to finally admit it.

At that second, someone knocked on his door twice, his head snapping towards that direction. He feels the beat of his heart quicken in pace as he approaches it slowly. Answering it, he remembers when you were there about aa month ago just to tell him off. Donghyuck laughs, “Y/N? Missed me already?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Shut up Hyuck… you know how you owe me?” He nods, unable to predict what was coming up next.

“Well how about you take me out to dinner…” You cringed at how you worded that. It sounded like you were demanding it. This mistake caused you to back up a bit sheepishly.

Donghyuck smiles at your cute behaviour, stepping forward to keep the distance the same, “Like a date?” It was your turn to nod.

“Then I would love to.”

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midnightsnace · 3 years ago

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A Thousand Worlds

Summary: Fix it fic of sorts after the trauma that was episode 6 of the Loki series. Loki is in pain after discovering Mobius doesn’t remember him. He’s been living in apocalypses to avoid capture by this new TVA until he formulates a plan to get his Mobius back.

Rating: T for later chapters

Emotional angst.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

“And so that’s where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds.”

The ends of a thousand worlds. The words of his accomplice echoed through the god’s mind as he fiddled with the straps of his worn and tattered holster. The fluorescent above him flickered with every gust of wind that battled against the sides of the building that Loki was crouched down in. He slid his long legs out against the tiled floor in front of him and sat with his head propped against the wall. He sighed. Loki tapped his foot on the door of the space he was hiding in to close it, drowning out the cries of fear from the people outside in their final hours of life. There he sat waiting for the tempad to charge. Alone. Living in another world where every person he met would be dead by the end of the day. Another world where Mobius didn’t exist. His Mobius.

Was this what it was like? For her? To never be able to stay in one place for more than a day? To always see the same faces riddled with fear as they awaited their painful fate? To only know destruction, screaming, fires, earthquakes, the literal gates of hel? To be utterly alone with your only desire to live in the hope that one day your glorious purpose would be fulfilled?

Glorious purpose.

Loki scoffed. The god didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. Taking down the TVA was a complete failure. The chances for fixing the mess they started seemed impossible now as branches grew and new timelines erupted, with endless TVAs to monitor every universe. At least, that’s what Loki assumed. He knew next to nothing about what they had unleashed. It wasn’t the same TVA. Different hunters, different analysts, different ruler. Many he recognized, but they were still different people. They weren’t the same. She wasn’t the real B. He wasn’t his Mobius. And Loki was at a complete loss on how to find them again.

The first tempad he stole only brought him back to the place he snatched it from. The same Time Variance Authority where Mobius didn’t remember him and not a single file existed for Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, God of Outcasts, God of Lies. Even when he dragged the analyst through the timedoor into the roxxcart parking lot to access his memories, nothing existed of him. No laughter over silly metaphors, mischief at pompeii, not even the memory of their first encounter in the elevator. It was like they never met. This led to Loki wasting away their days hopping from one disaster to the next until his brain racked up a solution. The TVA never once did follow him. Why would they? No one remembered his brilliant discovery about the apocalypses. He could run free. But as the days whittled by, the hope Loki had began to fade into nothingness.

For awhile he kept track of the places he went and the time that had passed.

Day 1 - I finally stole a tempad and left that dreadful place. I came here first. Hoping I’d see you. But I guess that’s not how time travel works in apocalypses. No trace we were ever here. The storm reminded me of my brother. I hope to see him again one day. Now that I know we could have been friends. Everything was eventually going to be okay.

Day 24 - I’ve been sitting in a coffee shop awaiting the earthquake of 2098. Met a lovely redhead with the most peculiar of tattoos. But alas! Little does she know this friendship could never blossom in the wake of death!

Day 37 - I miss him. My brother. The pain that solitude brings makes me think of home more often. How ironic that the very place that caused me the most pain I miss. But anything is better than this. So today I visited home right before its destruction. I saw my brother. I saw Thor from afar. Oh how I wish I could have talked to him somehow and tell him i’m sorry for being such an ass.

Being there brought back memories of the silly metaphor he made using Mobius’ lunch. The corners of Loki’s mouth crept into a smile at the thought. But that smile faded away in the next second and was replaced with tears.

Day 56 - I went to Pompeii again. I stood in the shadows. I tried to picture your expressions of skepticism at my insane ideas. I tried to picture how your face lit up with pride and joy when you realized I was right. I wish I could have stayed longer but I never can anywhere I go.

He whistled like a bird before he exited through the time door.

By day 125 he had lost his will to live again. It was their fourth visit to Lamentis-1. Perhaps it was a mistake on his part to journey here once more and feel both the pains of betrayal and heartache at the prospect of never seeing Mobius again. The second time they had visited Lamentis, the god decided to stay until the very last second with the false hope that maybe him facing death would create a nexus event. His mobius would come find him and save him at the last second. But the time door never came. Maybe it was because he knew there was a chance to escape and he could take it. Or maybe it was because there were so many time branches no one would care to fix a world that was about to end.

“You were always meant to be alone.”

And so this time Loki threw the tempad to the ground and waited. He watched as the lethal disaster unfolded before his eyes once more, ready to die. Alone. Alone with no one to assure him everything will be alright in the face of death. Not a single soul would know he was gone. No one would care.

But at the last second they saw something on the tempad that made them change their mind. A glimmer of hope.

Any hope Loki had, a glorious purpose he had left to fulfill, it was in finding Mobius. It was the only desire left that fueled him to keep existing. He was all that mattered. His only friend. The only person left among the universes who trusted him and saw beyond his flaws. The only person left who hadn’t betrayed the fragile levels of trust the god could give. He was his hope that one day, he wouldn’t have to be alone.

And so he found himself walking the streets of New York in the summer of 2197, on the brink of some disaster he knew nothing about. Not a single idea when it would happen, where it would occur, and what he was doomed to witness. He saw something that could potentially lead him to his destination. The tempad had given him an alert for an aura match - two of the same people in one place. An oddity. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist.

They weren’t just any entity either. They were registered hunters in the TVA database. Which meant one had to be from another universe.

And he knew the TVA would be coming for them.

He had to get there first.

Loki speed walked down the sidewalk frantically scanning his surroundings for any clue as to what was happening. He couldn’t read any signs of fear or confusion on the faces of those who passed him. He didn’t know how much time he had.

Upon hearing shouts of anger, Loki broke out into a run across the street towards the source, dodging every dystopian vehicle that nearly collided with him in the process. It was coming from the roof of the parking tower. With a snap of his magic, Loki teleported himself to the top, hiding behind a parked vehicle to assess what he was working with.

There were two agents standing about 10 feet away who looked nearly identical, one waving her arms frantically while the other looked on stoically, possibly from shock, with a pruning stick in hand. Loki locked eyes on the tempad fastened to the belt of the frantic one. Then he glanced at the one in the other hunter’s hand.

Well shit.

Now he had to figure out which agent had jumped from the other timeline. He quickly flashed himself closer to the two, but not before one caught on that someone was there.

“I was given orders by a man to…what was that?” one of the hunters asked.

Loki crouched down farther on the other side of the wall. He reached for a dagger, ready to pounce once their suspicions subsided. They listened intently to the words from the first hunter for the first clue on who to attack.

“He sent me here to grab this,” the hunter pulled up someone on her tempad, “entity and leave. Those were the orders given to me. So if you’ll excuse me.”

The other hunter planted herself in front of her clone. “I can’t let you do that. Not until you’ve told me everything I want to know. How are you me? How is this possible?”

The first hunter was from an alternate timeline. Loki took that as his cue. But before he could sneak behind the hunter, he was shot backwards by a blast of energy from a ring of light.

Out from the ring stepped a peculiar man with graying hair who was wearing blue robes and an assymetrical cloak that sparked the curiosity of the confused hunter. Within a split second, the portal closed behind him. Loki laid very still on the concrete and held his breath in the hopes that the man would believe him to be dead.

“You know I can tell when someone is playing dead.”

Loki grimaced and winced as he heaved himself off the ground. He came face to face with the strange man, his hand lingering in the air where he placed the pocket for his dagger.

“You.” was all the man said.

“Am I supposed to know you?” the god questioned.

“You always manage to show up in New York again at the most in-opportune times.” The man raised his hands and Loki mimicked his movements, summoning his daggers in place.

“I’m gonna assume we’ve met before sir, perhaps in the future? I don’t know! And i’m terribly sorry about New York! Look let me explain…” they lowered their hands in their attempt to make peace with the angry man in front of him.

“Dr. Strange.” He kept his fist in the air, golden sparks flying from whatever spell he had in mind to attack the prince with. “And until you prove otherwise Im going to assume you are here for hostile reasons.”

Loki blinked. Well he’s kind of not wrong, they thought.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t prove anything else.” and with that the god blasted the sorcerer into the nearest column with their magic and teleported across the space.

Loki noticed that one of the hunters had disappeared. He assumed she had returned to the TVA. The other was charging towards him fast. He whipped out his daggers to face his attacker, but suddenly his feet were dragged out from under him and he hit the concrete hard. He was being dragged backwards, body scrapping against the concrete. So fast, that the god could barely think about what was happening to him.

When he came to his senses he cut the magic ropes with his powers and rolled across the ground. So he was dealing with another magic user, this “Dr. Strange.” Loki teleported again before he was up on his feet to where he was standing directly behind the hunter.

“D-11…” Dr. Strange said with a hint of caution in his tone.

So this was the man Hunter D-11 was working for. Before the hunter could turn around to face them, Loki snatched the tempad off her belt and snapped himself to the furthest side of the building. Dr. Strange reacted quickly and stood his ground in front of Loki, prepared to attack again.

“Loki, perhaps we can work out some type of deal. What is it that you want? Maybe I can help you. Maybe we can reach a compromise.”

Offer him a deal? Nah.

“I’m done trusting people I’ve just met. All they ever do is stab me in the back.” he conjured the time door behind him.

Strange titled his head. “You do realize we can follow you right straight back to the TVA?”

Loki turned to face him and D-11. “You’ll never find me. You won’t know the first place to look.” The time door closed with Loki inside of it, before the two even had a chance to reach their hands out to follow the god.

…….

And that’s how Loki had ended up here. At Roxxcart again, waiting for the new tempad to charge up before hopping through timelines again.

He breathed in deeply as he felt the bubble of excitement, relief, and happiness build in his chest for the first time in months at the prospect of achieving his goal. Being reunited with the only one who mattered: Mobius. His Mobius.

But as he released his breath in a sigh, his chest tightened again and worry clouded his mind. What if this didn’t work? What if this was just another dead end? What if this was just another one of the countless TVAs that might exist in the vast multiverse?

At first, all Loki felt was sadness and regret in the days following Sylvie’s betrayal. But now all he felt was anger boiling deep inside him. That same unwelcome feeling he experienced after discovering his father lied to him. The feeling that harbored in the abyss of Thanos’ chambers. The feeling that never left his soul until Mobius looked him in the eyes and assured him that he didn’t have to be the villain in his story.

She had taken everything from him and he was afraid he couldn’t wash away the resentment this time. He wanted desperately to feel anything besides the pain he had known for the past year.

He needed to feel love again.

“He cares about you.”

Loki couldn’t wait any longer. He picked up the tempad and tapped the time door request for the TVA home base. He drew in a shaky breath as he paused in front of the portal.

This was it.

He was either about to be reunited with his greatest source of happiness, or find himself hiding in apocalypses again for months as he searched for another plan.

And he would do it. He would search through a thousand worlds to find him.

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notnctu · 4 years ago

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under the mistletoe | l.ty

lee taeyong x fem!reader genre - fluff, barely humor idk, very little bit of angst details - enemies to lovers!au, childhood friends that have been apart, high school!au warnings - explicit language, one mention of death, there’s a kiss scene lol word count - 2.7k synopsis - the holiday season brings a change of heart this year. you see your old friend, now enemy, Lee Taeyong at Mark’s Christmas gathering and through snowman shaped cookies, you two re-kindle your old friendship.

a/n - this is for @neoculturechristmas ‘s secret santa collab! this piece is dedicated to @soliverse :) hello lovie!! i’m your secret santa!! i hope you like it and im sorry that it’s not funny LOL thank you for letting me participate in such a fun holiday collab! im so happy to be able to write a fic for another writer:)

Through the heavily crowded Christmas party, through the people that dare walk in your way, you still see him in the midst of the chaos. Lee Taeyong stands only a few feet from you, in a ridiculous Christmas sweater and messy frosty hair. The universe is absolutely obsessed with placing you two in uncomfortable situations, as if the fuming feud between you two is not enough.

His absentminded actions cause him to foolishly knock over someone��s drink, what a fucking clutz. Rolling your eyes, you wander off in search of your good friend to announce your departure for the night.

“Already? Y/N, you got here like, five minutes ago.” Mark mixes the glass bowl that is filled to the brim with red sugary punch. Any forceful spin will have it spilling from the rim, and that won’t be the only mishap of the night that you witness. “What’s the rush? It’s Christmas Eve!”

And before you can utter the blacklisted name to explain your sudden change of heart, the culprit walks in with his stunned puppy eyes that grow sharp and a frown at your appearance. There is a small spark in the shared eye contact until it completely drops and he returns to ignoring your presence.

“Mark, where are your napkins? I spilled something in your living room.” It had to be a whole year since you’ve last heard his voice and you still remember his low cadence whenever he was trying to be cool. Cool and mysterious Taeyong, and how he lives up so perfectly to his title. However, there was a moment in time that you knew him for more than that. He was warm and comforting Taeyong.

While he tried so hard to be winter on the outside, spring bloomed blossoms on the inside and a bright sunshine radiated enough for you to witness its glow. You wished to stay with his spring for as long as you possibly could, but like the changing seasons, Taeyong eventually changed with it.

“It’s in the upper cabinet.” Mark does not realize the initial situation in the room, merrily going back to his large bowl of delicious liquid. It takes one big sigh from you for your friend to finally realize the elephant in the room and the unknowingly stiff tension in the kitchen. Mark’s eyes grow a bit bigger and as subtle as he tried to be, he clears his throat, “I think Christmas is all about joining together and being in each other’s company. Stay, Y/N.”

Mark did not choose his words wisely as Taeyong peeks over his shoulder, catching the last words of his sentence. “You’re leaving already, Y/N?” That is the first time he’s acknowledged you in the past few years.

There is an internal battle of whether or not you should acknowledge him back. Crossing your arms, you grumble something underneath your breath. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Taeyong says sternly, making sure he asserts his nonchalant attitude. “Just sucks that Mark threw such a happy Christmas party for his good friend to leave.” He slings an arm around Mark’s shoulders, snuggling his face into the side of Mark’s chocolate colored hair.

And Mark dares to show a small smile of affection back. “Sorry that Y/N is always walking out on things. She does that quite often.” Before you can give him a piece of your mind, Mark shoves a snowman shaped biscuit in your mouth.

Taeyong gets away laughing, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride as he walks to clean up his other mess. You groan, biting the head of the snowman off and glaring at Mark. “Why did you let him get away with saying that to me? And when did you become friends with him again? And why are your cookies so hard?”

“Taeyong lost a friend, like a month ago. Just be a bit empathetic, please.” Mark wipes his hands on his apron and continues kneading at a random ball of dough. If it’s one thing that Mark always does too well is overachieving at his holiday gatherings. There is a reason why he’s head of the Prom Committee and student officer for event planning at your high school.

Washing your hands, the cold water bites at your skin. It’s been a really cold winter this year. When you dry your hands off, you scoot Mark over to make room for yourself to help with his endless amount of holiday treats.

“We’ve all lost friends, Mark. Sometimes people don’t work out with others and that’s just how it goes.” There is an underlying bitterness that does not seem to fade when you speak.

“Speaking from experience, maybe?” Mark chuckles, but dismisses the brief second of giggles to a more serious and low tone. “Not that kind of lost, Y/N. He lost a friend forever, like this person is in a forever sleep.”

The moment the words hit the air, a chilly draft sweeps at your ankles and you freeze in your place. And as you stand with dry flour on your hands and a person you thought you’d never become warm to again stands in the next room over, your heart softens at the information and immediate guilt preoccupies your system.

“Oh… well you should have started with that, then.” You slightly graze a finger across your nose at the faint tickle. Your mind is running at high speed, merely wondering about all the pain that Taeyong possibly felt this past month and remembering how it’s difficult for him to process his feelings.

“He actually wasn’t going to come tonight, until I mentioned you were coming.” Mark unloads a batch of fresh cookies from the oven and replaces it with another tray. The aromatics take you back to Christmas many years ago and the memory of Taeyong getting frosting everywhere you could remember. It took weeks to get the red and green stains out of the carpet, but the laughter made up for every clumsy mistake.

Not completely sure where the melancholic spirit erupted from, you rinse your hands and grab two cookies off the still hot tray without another response. Hurrying off, Mark yells out, “Wait-- those aren’t decorated yet!” but you choose to ignore his pleas.

Why is it harder to find him in a crowd when you are actually looking for him? Perhaps the saying, the best things in life come when you’re not looking for them, holds some truth to it. But your feet take you directly to him; he sits at the leather couch with the burning embers from the fireplace reflecting in his eyes.

Your abrupt appearance startles him a bit, but his face falls sullen when he sees that it’s you. Shoulders touching, you’ve missed the intimacy you two use to share. The blank snowman shaped cookie feels warm in your hand as you thrust it into Taeyong’s face. “For you.”

Taeyong scoffs, pushing your hand away lightly and looking away from the pitiful undecorated treat. “This feels like a trap.”

“No trap. Just a truce. Remember the time when I got upset at you for forgetting me in the parking lot and I told you the only way to fix it was to buy me food?” Your hand begins to drop, but Taeyong catches your wrist and takes the cookie from your possession. He gently places your hand back onto your lap.

“I know no other love language.” You explain the reasoning behind the old memory.

“Pretty sure food isn’t a love language.” Taeyong chuckles, like Christmas carols to your ears, he sounds like home.

“It’s not, but they all require me to be too emotionally vulnerable and you know how that makes me feel…” Your voice unintentionally trails off the end of your sentence. Does he still know how you feel?

Taeyong’s eyebrow raises subtly, catching your implication. “You’re still the same person you were three years ago?”

Three years, has it really been that long? You nod without needing to ponder the thought. There is a stark difference between change and growth. You are who you’ve always been, that is never going to change, but you’ve grown to be stronger and a little more independent.

“That’s not surprising.” Taeyong bites at his cookie, turning the figure in his hands as he stares off to reminisce about the past. He thinks about his pain. He thinks about his own self growth. “I’ve been thinking about you recently.”

The bold comment causes your chest to burn and your throat to grow a bit dry. Taeyong finally looks up at you, eyes dropping between your own and your lips. He doesn’t shy away from staring, taking in how much you’ve changed appearance wise since you two used to be friends. His eyelashes dance against his skin every time he blinked and the white strands of his hair fall around his crown like snowflakes.

“Why?”

“I learned how important it is to have friends around you. You never know when you’ll never see them again. The falling out we had should not have ruined the friendship we built for so long.” It’s difficult for Taeyong to continue with his feelings. It’s not a secret that he’s liked you since you two were close, probably half of the room is well aware of it. But there has never been a moment where he was out right too vulnerable to you, he was and is afraid of showing his feelings.

It’s an immediate body reaction when Taeyong leans in to you and you defensively back away. The confusion shows on your face very blatantly and his dreamy laugh rattles your bones. Taeyong’s hand softly caresses your cheek as his thumb brushes the tip of your nose. “You have some flour on your face.” This skin to skin leaves you speechless as his hot hand holds your cheek so delicately, making your heart race rapidly.

“Your Christmas sweater is ugly.” That’s all you can utter, out of pure panic too. Your eyes dip away and he retracts away from you, elbows on his knees as he leans forward and ducking momentarily to examine his choice of festive clothing.

He laughs, “it’s called an ugly Christmas sweater for a reason. It’s better than wearing a lame red sweater and calling it festive.” It’s surreal how quick things settle back into being the way that it used to be. As if the last three years of silence and constantly pretending the other didn’t exist disappeared. Taeyong is back, he’s yours again. And you hope that he’ll be by your side for longer than you had let him go.

“Red is not my color, I agree, but green is definitely not yours.” You joke back and Taeyong ruffles your hair, just like old times. The holiday spirit practically wraps its arms around you two. The holidays are really about being in each other’s warmth. In this very cold winter, you’re happy to have found an old flame that kept you from frostbite for many years.

“Y/N, we’re putting up the mistletoe.” An acquaintance interrupts you and Taeyong, quickly grabbing your arm to follow her. Your eyes dart between her and Taeyong. One thing you know no doubt about is that you aren’t leaving Taeyong alone again, so you take his hand without another second thought and drag him along with you.

You’re all ushered into the foyer and Mark is on a step ladder under the frame of his door. He notes Taeyong by your side and discreetly smiles to himself. He securely pins it to the wall and claps his hands together to gather everyone’s attention. “We’re going to blindfold two people and they’re going to have to kiss underneath the mistletoe.”

Your hands grow sweaty at the thought of such a risky game and immediately, you two let go of each other’s hands without realizing the clutching feeling of each other’s anxiousness. “I don’t think I’ll be chosen.” Taeyong mumbles to you as Mark and a few other people unravel the blindfolds. Nevertheless, he doesn’t sound very confident and you notice Taeyong’s shifty eyes.

“Right. Me either.” You shrug off, trying to hide slightly behind Taeyong’s stature. However, Taeyong instantly catches the uncertainty in your voice as well.

“Aren’t there four couples in the room?” Taeyong whispers over his shoulder at you.

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes at his obvious thinking. “Yeah, but Mark isn’t going to choose a couple to kiss. How boring.”

Taeyong chuckles out of disbelief at your comment. “I’ll volunteer you if you want to really spice things up.”

And your eyes grow wide at his mischievous suggestion, pinching at his arm lightly. Underneath the fleece, Taeyong feels sturdy and strong. It’s only another reminder that you two aren’t kids anymore. “Lee Taeyong, do not. I don’t want to kiss anyone in this room.” That might’ve been a lie, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself that you are just a little curious how Taeyong might have matured.

“Everyone close your eyes.” Mark excitedly smiles and everyone obliges. You gulp the pooled saliva in your mouth, trying to manifest every possible hope that you aren’t chosen in this room of twenty people. Mark wouldn’t screw you over like that, would he? The more you pondered that thought, the more you believe that he totally would.

Then, you feel a hand on your arm and you’re being guided somewhere. A cloth covers your eyes and you’re quick to snarl, “Mark Lee, this is your only Christmas present. You get no more favors from me.” your cadence is only loud enough for him to hear and though you’re robbed of your sight, Mark’s boyish laughter says enough about his enlightened facial expression.

“This is what you get for trying to leave five minutes into my extravagant party I tried so hard to put on.” Mark sarcastically comments and pats your shoulders for a last indication of reassurance.

You hear footsteps in front of you and an uncanny presence of another in your close proximity. “Okay, everyone can open their eyes.” Mark cheers and it’s not like you can see much through the dark cloth that covers your eyes, but yours open anyways.

Gasps fill the room, slight hollering and cheering. The reactions cause an unsettling stir in your lower stomach. “Kiss!” and before you know it, the unknown person searches for your face and cups it gingerly. The feeling being very familiar to a scene before.

The both of you lean in and it’s difficult with the lack of sight, but people kiss with their eyes closed right? It’s not your first kiss, but also the sense deprivation is something different. When you tilt your head and go in for it, your noses bump together clumsily. You’re slightly embarrassed, your heart is leaping out of your chest from the sudden display of affection and you’re strangling Mark in your imagination.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, but there isn’t a response back. Instead, your partner dives in without any trace of struggle. Their lips glide perfectly with yours and it’s almost like you’re kissing snow. Any form of awkwardness melts away; their hand on your cheek feels natural and comforting. Your heart yearns for this sense of security as the same warmth from the fireplace embodies your chest.

When you two pull away, the room bursts into a loud chaos of cheers. Before you can take off your blindfold, you can feel everyone running toward the both of you to give you excited pats on your head and arm.

“I can’t believe that just happened!” Your friend’s voice can be heard in your ear. As you lift off the cloth, you see him in the midst of the chaos. Through the heavy dog pile of overly joyous people, Lee Taeyong stands a few feet from you in his ugly Christmas sweater, messy frosty hair and a pink hue across his pale cheeks.

He looks over at you and shyly smiles. “Hopefully that spiced things enough for you. Happy Holidays, Y/N.” He can barely process everyone else's excitement, but he feels joyous for once. After a long cold bitter winter, he feels warm.

“Happy Holidays, you big goof. Good to have you back.” You push at his arm, laughing happily at the ridiculously wide smile he has on his face. You’re glad to see Taeyong smile again.

#neoculturechristmas #nct-writers #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #neothestars #nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #nct scenario #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct imagines #nct fluff #lee taeyong scenarios

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poisonintopositivity · 4 years ago

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(My Very Own) Top 20 Sterek Fics

Here is my very own Top 20 Sterek Fics (out of order)

For me, these fanfictions are a “MUST READ NOW!!!” kind of deal. These authors have so much talent, it’s incredible. These stories are just marvelous and deserve LOVE ! So, I decided to share them with you.

I’ve read most of these fics several times and some of them are even my bedside table books (with Harry Potter and the Prisonner of Azcaban and Jane Eyre)

So here we go!

1: Enemy Lines by @qhuinn - 150k - Explicit - Dystopia - Enemies to friends to lovers - Action/adventure

This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.

Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.

Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

2: Actions Speak Louder than Words by @isthatbloodonhisshirt - 435k - Explicit - The BEST and slowest burn there is - Spark Stiles/Mute Derek - Friends to Lovers

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”

That was a bad word. Not found.

Have.

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

3: Radio Tower by @hyperlittlenori - 130k - Explicit - Dystopia - Hope - Slow Burn/Build

Everything was different. The world he knew was gone. It’d been a long time since he’d started thinking he was probably one of the last humans on earth, that out there the only sentient beings were those that would devour him whole. He wasn’t sure why he continued with the radio broadcasts, continued to talk into nothingness. The only explanation was that there was a spark of hope in him yet that he wasn’t alone. The lonely safety Stiles has built around an old radio tower in the middle of nowhere is about to be broken. Stiles isn’t sure if Derek is a harbinger of chaos or hope at the end of the world.

4: The Hollow Moon by @thepsychicclam - 180k - Explicit - Fix-It - Memory Loss - Slow Burn/Build

It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all.

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

5 : Amor Fati by @alocalband - 43k - Explicit - Consent is sexy - First Time - Fluff & Angst

When Stiles gets thrown into the bank vault about twenty minutes after him, Derek isn’t even surprised.As it turns out, neither is Stiles.

6 : (not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit - 33k - Explicit - Shared fantasies - Angst with a happy ending - hotdamn!

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

7: What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm - 119k - Explicit - Wolf!Derek - Slow Burn/Build - Friends to Lovers

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

8: Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by @devildoll - 77k - Explicit - Captivity - Feral!Derek - Angst with a happy ending

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

9 : What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt - 196k - Explicit - Soulmate - Slow Burn - Misunderstandings

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

10 : taste your beating heart by @cinematicnomad - 112k - Mature - Pack Dynamics - Slow Burn/Build - Stilinski Family Feels

Something was wrong in Beacon Hills. Derek was halfway across the country when he felt a call to return to his hometown, and somehow Stiles had been talked into letting the werewolf stay in his guest bedroom. This could lead to nothing good.

11 : between the click of the light and the start of the dream by @thepsychicclam 105k - Explicit - Pack Dynamics - Getting Togheter - Fluff & Angst

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

12: And You Say You're Alone by taelynhawker - 30k - Explicit - Pack Dynamincs - Bad Friend Scott - Romance

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

13: Trust Fall by Stoney - 144k - Explicit - Body Swap - Hurt/Confort - Slow Burn/Build

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it's pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait...does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit.

****

Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over.

They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn't be calm and focused.

Of course.

14: Gravity's Got Nothing on You by @zosofi - 84k - Explicit - Fake/Pretend Boyfriends - Humor - Romance

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

15: Every Step You Take by @nokomiss - 49k - Mature - Magic - UST - Secret Feelings

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

16: Baking My Way Into Your Heart by theSilence - 179k - Mature - College AU/Coffee Shop AU - Slow Burn/Build - Friends to Lovers

Derek is an uptight college student, all work and no play. His carefully scheduled life is thrown kilter when his regular barista is replaced with someone new.

17: Windows by @drgrlfriend - 83k - Explicit - Blind!Stiles - Friends to Lovers - Found Families

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

18 : Just to See You Again by MellytheHun (@loserchildhotpants) - 15k - Explicit - Love Letters - Getting Together - College AU

A sterek college!AU where writing student Stiles specializes in love letters, runs a blog about it and can be commissioned to write love letters on behalf of lovers who are at a loss for words.

He makes some cash, he’s good at what he does (especially when he gets to be a little more explicit in his letters), it pays for his textbooks and that’s all he’s really looking for and life is fine. That is, until someone anonymously commissions him to write a love letter to mathematics student, Derek Hale.

19: Chasing Slumber by @hyperlittlenori - 21k - Explicit - Post-Nogitsune - Porn With Feelings - Fix it

Stiles finds solitude and a glimpse at recovering from his ordeal with the Nogitsune in a dingy motel far from Beacon Hills. Inhuman blue eyes follow his silent struggles in the darkness of the room and he can no longer pretend to sleep, pretend he hasn’t been profoundly changed by all that has happened. He can only let his fingers stretch out across threadbare but clean sheets and clench around them, in a failed attempt at not reaching for Derek.

20 : the thread is ripping by @thepsychicclam - 36k - Explicit - Pinning - Angst with a happy ending - Flashbacks

Stiles is 27 now, with a master’s degree and a career and a house and a serious boyfriend and a life in San Francisco that doesn't include Derek. But then Stiles unexpectedly shows back up in Beacon Hills, and Derek would recognize that scent anywhere.

If you are interested, feel free to check out my Sterek Fic Recs Collections on A03.

On this lovely note, happy reading guys!

#Fic rec #Sterek #sterek fics rec #sterek fics #my favs!#spread the love #teen wolf #teen wolf fics

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waywardfangirl · 4 years ago

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For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

#snowbaz fic #Purr-fect Strangers #a gift for a friend!#fuff #my fic

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mulderist · 4 years ago

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Wicked Game

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Read on A03

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 5

The phone rang three times before she answered. My jaw ached as I tried to mask the slur in my voice when I told her who was calling. I realized it was a long shot ringing her number but I needed something to get my head on straight. I told her I was in Georgetown and as luck would have it she did not have a shift at the hospital that evening. She accepted my invitation to have a drink. I confirmed her address and I said I would wait outside the building to meet her, adding to look for the forlorn gentleman with a grey fedora. We disconnected and I exited the booth then walked to the curb to hail a cab.

Scully’s apartment building was tucked into a quiet tree-lined block on Q Street. In a town built on history this neighborhood dripped vintage charm with neat colonial rowhouses and brick sidewalks. I paced a slow line in front of the staircase then stretched a foot on the bottom step. The sound of a door opening and heel clicks on brickwork caught my attention. There she was. A vision in a short-sleeved olive green sweater with a high neck, wide-leg trousers gave way to dark t-strap shoes that peeked out from under her pant cuffs. Her ginger-red hair was pinned up halfway and decorated with a small flower. I straightened up and tried to smile as she landed on the last step.

“God, what happened to you?” she questioned before I could even greet her properly.

“And hello to you too.” I replied.

“Oh, your cheek,” Scully frowned, “This reminds me of when we first met.” She inspected my face without laying a finger on me. I tipped back my hat slightly so she could get a better look. In the afternoon sun her eyes processed a diagnosis and she reached out a caring hand to touch my jawline but withdrew it quickly. Fingers formed a loose fist instead as her hand dropped slowly towards her hip. I cleared my throat.

“Serves me right for interrupting someone’s lunch, huh?”

“Must have been someone important for them to leave a mark like that,” Scully said, stepping back and adjusting her handbag. I shrugged then said,

“No, just me being a nosy cop.” I found myself staring as she smiled.

“So now that we’re here, where are we off to?”

“There’s a little place I visit when I’m in the neighborhood.” I slipped my hands in my pockets and gestured with a nod down the block. She joined me at my side and we strolled for a few silent moments. Her presence helped to mute the extra noise in my head. Though with each intersection we crossed I was still checking my corners, making sure we weren’t being followed. After the little scene I caused at the restaurant my guard was up. I knew I could never be too comfortable with my surroundings and I certainly didn’t want to put her in danger.

We walked farther down Q street and crossed over to 33rd to a small bar named The Blue Note. I opened the door for her and followed inside. It was your standard set-up with a small stage on the side arranged for a jazz combo. Too early for a gig, so the jukebox in the corner played the matinee performance. Regalia from the university littered the walls but in a more dignified fashion, like the proprietor was trying to distance the establishment from looking like a run-of-the-mill college bar. Still, it was dark, smoky, and my kind of familiar. Only a couple of bar flies had landed to start their day-drinking. I ushered her through a fresh haze of cigarette smoke to an empty spot at the far end of the bar. She took a seat and I adjusted my barstool, sitting close but not too close. Scully caught the attention of the stout bartender.

“I’d like a vodka tonic and my friend here will have?”

“Whiskey.”

The man nodded and scuttled back to fix our drinks. I put my fedora on the bar and ran a hand through my hair.

“Can you tell me about this case you’re working on?” Scully asked as she placed her handbag in her lap. I thought about how much I wanted to divulge so I kept the names and places to a minimum.

“It involves a drug ring, fairly standard for the vice unit. However the fly in the ointment is that it also involves an investigation into my partner.”

“Wait, the one who was buried at Arlington?”

“The very same,” I answered as the bartender delivered two short glasses. I grasped the drink and raised it, she mimicked the motion. “Cheers,” I said before taking a long sip and swirling the ice cube around. Scully sampled her drink as well and I continued.

“The papers painted it that he was killed in the line of duty. Now, I was there that night. It was the same night I got a hot lead kiss on the shoulder and I think my partner was bumped off in a deal that went sour.”

“Your partner was a hophead?” she asked as she twisted the bottom of her glass on the bar napkin.

“I didn’t suspect he was a hophead,” I said after I downed the last of my whiskey, “but the medical examiner ordered blood work that confirmed he was sky high.”

“Did you see who shot at you?” she asked after a beat, tracing a fingertip along the edge of the highball.

“No, but we did get a match on the weapon. So all I need to do is take him in .”

“Let me guess, that’s who gave you the bruise.”

“Very perceptive Scully. It was one of his goons actually.” I said as I rubbed my left cheek and glanced reflexively over my shoulder. She held her glass close to her lips and thought for a moment before taking another sip to finish it off. Scully pressed her lips together and focused on her now empty glass. I caught the change in music from the jukebox; a heavy piano piece that fit the tone in our little corner of the bar. I flagged the bartender and ordered another round. She was hesitant at first on the refill but I guess she didn’t mind my company and decided to stick around. Time seemed to slow to a halt, dripped down like molasses on a winter day.

“Enough about me and the DCPD, I want to know your story.”

“My story, Mulder? I don’t think I’m as interesting as all that,” Scully said as she glanced at her hands, admiring the tidy red varnish on the nails.

“Try me,” I replied as our second round arrived and my attention was now only on her.

“Let’s see...you already know I’m a nurse,” she began with a gesture, “I’ve been one since before the war. Schooling was no cost and once the conflict started I opted to stay home in Maryland to fill the nursing shortage. My brothers had gone through the gauntlet at the naval academy and were sent to San Diego then the South Pacific respectively. It would have broken my mother’s heart if I joined up and got shipped off too” She paused and took a drink. “My sister and mother stayed in Annapolis but in ‘45 I headed to Washington to continue with medicine. There was more I wanted to learn and more ways I felt I could help.”

“And that’s how you ended up in Georgetown?”

She nodded and softly exhaled.

“After I buried my father, I buried myself in studies, work, and other hobbies. I figured if I kept myself busy enough I wouldn’t have time to think about the loss.” Her shoulders shrugged and she absentmindedly toyed with a strand of hair then swept it behind her ear.

“Any travel in that time?” I asked, hoping she had an answer. I was shit at small talk when I wasn’t using my badge.

“California after the war ended to see my brother Bill and his family for Christmas, then last year I took the train up to New England for a change of scenery.”

“Ah, I’m familiar with that area. My parents live on Martha’s Vineyard.”

“It’s really lovely. I was fortunate to visit in the fall.” A hint of a smile crossed her lips as she recalled the memory. A pleasant silence then fell between us. More small talk followed, less personal this go around. Filler subjects like the weather and sports weaved their way into conversation. I was pleased to learn she was a baseball fan and was hoping for a better season than last year.

The bar was getting more clientele and as much as I wanted to stay and extend my friendship with Mr Jack Daniels, I figured we should make it last call. I paid our tab and escorted Scully outside, placing a featherweight touch on her shoulder as I guided her through the open door. The air felt cool as the sun hid behind passing clouds, setting up for another storm. She thanked me for the drinks and though she was a captain’s daughter who could certainly hold her liquor, I offered to walk her home.

As we turned the corner and walked back up the block I still felt that we weren’t alone. I kept a close stride next to Scully as we neared her building. She ascended the steps and I joined her at the door. This time her hand found my cheek.

“I hope to see you again,” she said as she gently stroked my jawline, “But next time without any occupational damage.”

“Can’t make any promises, doll,” I said moving closer, feeling her fingers twitch, catching a flutter of her eyelashes as she exhaled. My gaze was soft, hypnotized by her features. She grazed the stubble on my skin then Scully raised her chin and placed a soft sweet kiss on my injured cheek.

“Take care of yourself, detective.”

Through the narrow pane of glass on the building’s door I watched her walk up the stairs, she looked back over her shoulder giving me a final flash of that flower nestled against her red hair. As I turned and walked down the steps I noticed a car parked across the street and a man with a sharp suit and glasses leaning against the side.

“Are you following me?” I called out once I was on the sidewalk, my hand on the butt of my weapon.

“This is your surveillance detail?” Skinner questioned.

“Chivalry isn’t dead yet, Captain.”

“Something’s come up. Get in,�� Skinner said as he motioned to the car. I walked around the front of the cruiser and opened the passenger door joining him inside.

“I heard about your incident with Carlo Lodi today.”

“Word travels fast.”

“You’re damn right it does, Mulder. This city is more connected than ever. I had a conversation with our friend Alex Krycek when he returned the squad car you lent him. Seems that he was privy to information regarding a Vincenti heroin shipment tonight.”

“Ha! What did you have to trade for that info?” I asked. He tensed his jaw then said,

“Continued protection. It appears he’s been sitting on this since we first interrogated him.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“There will be a boat arriving at the Navy Yard tonight. Small crew. They are going to make a transfer to one of the warehouses, but it’s up to you to find how they’re moving the shipment from there.”

I took a moment to process the details of my assignment.

“Will I have back-up?”

“Via radio. Do not engage after you make the mark. Follow standard tailing procedure.”

“If you’re going to send me on a suicide mission, can you at least drop me off in Alexandria. I could use a shower and something to eat.” Skinner gave me a sideways glance and turned the key in the ignition, bringing life to the cruiser. He shifted into gear and we were on our way back across the Potomac.

#i wrote this #historical au #mulder pov #xf fanfic #my fic #noir fiction #wip

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thedefinitionofendgame · 3 years ago

Text

I Love You, Baby

Sullivan X Andy one-shot | Rated M | Canonverse

A/N: Amidst my Surrera breakdown tonight after reading the episode synopsis for 4x16, I wrote this to settle my heart rate. I have no idea how the Station 19 finale will go, but hints about a Surrera baby are running wild, so this fic inspired by those and everything else *Rated M for non-explicit sex/TW regarding the mention of George Floyd’s death (briefly)*

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You can read this work on ao3 and fanfiction.net as well

Written & cover by @thedefinitionofendgame (aka me)

The cover is split between 3 different sections, just because :)

Alarms blared and sirens wailed but Lieutenant Andy Herrera heard none of them. Her thoughts were too crowded with her husband’s voice. No, not the way he whispered sweet nothings against her skin in the early mornings or the outrageously sexy way his voice deepened when he fought with her over control in the bedroom. Instead, it was the things he had told her over the last few months when the whole world had flipped upside down. The coronavirus started which put enough strain on a marriage alone. Then Andy’s husband, Robert, and a member of her Station 19 family, Dean, had wound up in jail mainly due to the colour of their skin. Robert had even had a gun pointed at his head, as he rushed to his wife who had been shoved to the ground. Less than two months later, a man across the country had died claiming he couldn’t breathe, filmed for the whole world to witness and make opinions about. None of it made sense to Andy, but then again she didn’t see things in the same way she had just half a year ago before she married her husband.

She loved his eyes. They were kind and held so much emotion. She loved the way his hands held her face when his lips brushed hers, no matter how gentle or rough their kiss was. His firefighter-status fitness level was a definite bonus; his hands were way larger than her own but she liked that they fit around hers like a glove. These were just some of the physical features she loved about her husband. Not once did she think about the colour of his skin and how that affected her love for him. It simply didn’t, at least not in a negative way. Robert was her husband; the colour of his skin never made any difference to her one way or another. Until it did matter, although not in a bad way. Suddenly, he was a target and Andy was thrust into a world that didn’t see a kind and dedicated man when they looked at Robert Sullivan. They saw someone that Andy would never compare to her husband, all for the colour of his skin.

Our marriage is the only good thing in my life, he had told her. The only good thing was her. They both had no one else, no parents or siblings. Sure, they had Station 19 who were basically family and Andy’s aunt, uncle and cousin. But in terms of immediate family, it was just them. Robert’s comment had left Andy’s head turning. Maybe it was the truth in his words, maybe it was the desperation he had said them to her in. Maybe it was because Andy wanted more than just their marriage to be good in his life. And maybe it was a little bit of all three.

Whatever it was, Andy was sure the problems couldn’t be fixed with what she had in mind. Although her idea wasn’t rational, it was the only thing she could think of. Robert and her had talked about the prospect of it before but it hadn’t gotten farther than that. The question remained whether or not it would break them up or make them stronger. At this point, Andy wasn’t ready to find out.

Yet somewhere in the universe, a light shone. A spark was lit, a flame caught on and from there, it was an inferno. One thing led to another and soon a giant ball of fire was heading for the only good thing in Robert (and Andy’s) life. It was only a matter of time before it crashed into them, leaving nothing but a mist of smoke behind.

“Hey, are you okay?” Robert’s concerned murmur washed over Andy, as she slid back into bed next to her husband.

Andy nodded, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against hers again. The early-morning air was cold and the firefighter wasn’t ready to get up yet. “Just had to use the bathroom.”

“Mhm.” An arm wrapped around her shoulders, making Andy feel safe. Home was wherever Robert’s embrace was. “Some long trip to the bathroom you took. Also did I hear you throwing up?”

Andy’s heart thumped in her chest. “No, why did you think that?”

“Thought I heard it. If you didn’t, it’s fine. Just wanted to check,” Robert pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead. “We have ten more minutes until the alarm goes,” he informed her.

“So kiss me.” Andy’s reply was quiet but Robert reacted immediately. His lips moved from her forehead to her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose and landed softly on her lips. Andy shifted so that she was more upright, and Robert’s hands moved to cup her face. The kiss deepened, and the sheets soon ended up on the unoccupied side of the mattress.

Morning sex was something Andy hadn’t really indulged in during her hookups with Jack and Ryan. Sure, it was a better way to wake up than turning over and hitting snooze on the alarm but she was mostly concerned about not getting caught by her father or anyone else at the station.

The alarm blared, interrupting the couple’s post-orgasmic bliss. With a sigh, Andy pushed away from Robert and threw on his discarded Station 19 shirt from the night before. “Cereal good for you? I’m not in the mood for French toast which is the-”

“Only thing you know how to make for breakfast, I know.” Leaning back against the headboard. Robert put his hands behind his head and smiled at her. “You tell me every morning.”

“Hey, I’m just reminding you what you signed up for when you married me.” She threw on yesterday’s jeans (her own this time), leaving the room.

“I married you for other reasons besides my breakfast options!” Robert shouted after her. He heard her infectious giggle from the stairs, which made his smile stretch even wider. Andy was going to be the death of him, but he would happily go if it meant the last thing he saw was her. The thought was cheesy, Robert knew, yet that was the state the ex-battalion chief was constantly in around his wife. She brought out a completely different side of him that had been hiding for the years between his first wife’s death and him coming to Station 19.

His first wife was probably watching from whatever afterlife she was in, happy for him. A day didn’t go by that Robert didn’t miss Claire, but he knew she would want him to find happiness again. Lucky for him, Andy was the woman he never expected to fall in love with and he did anyways. He was a very fortunate man to get two loves of his life.

After stretching, Robert rolled out of bed and trekked to the bathroom. Water was splashed all over the counter, which made him shake his head. While his wife kept a fairly clean locker at the station, their bathroom had no idea. He grabbed a small towel off the rack and mopped up the small puddles, then turned on the shower. Taking less than two minutes to get clean, Robert had a towel wrapped around his waist and was brushing his teeth while observing himself in the mirror. Clearly all the workouts he had been doing recently to deal with the emotions he had been feeling were helping tone his figure. Raising an eyebrow at himself in the mirror, Robert let out a laugh. He felt a bit stupid, so he quickly turned off the light, rinsed his mouth in the sink and went to change for the day.

A pair of Andy’s socks showed up in Robert’s drawer, so he opened up her side of the closet to put them away. But before he could move, something solid caught his eye amongst the squishy socks. He was about to investigate, then realized it wasn’t his. It was Andy’s and if he looked, it would be invading her privacy. So he closed the drawer and went back to putting on his own clothes. Yet Robert’s curiosity was piqued and the wheels in his head were already turning with possibilities. A surprise for him, perhaps. Or many it was a female-related object, one that she clearly didn’t want him to know about. Or maybe it was a- “Hey Andy, do you own a vibrator?” The question escaped Robert’s lips before he could stop himself.

Robert had never seen his wife appear in their bedroom so fast. “Robert, what on Earth have you been doing in here?” She asks, alarm lighting up her face.

Feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Robert admitted to what he had seen in Andy’s sock drawer. “Do you own a vibrator?” He repeated, once he had recounted his story to his wife.

Andy let out a huff of laughter, as she turned towards Robert. “Um, I did, before I married you. But it’s long gone, so don’t worry you don’t have any need to get your feather’s ruffled.” She crossed her arms. “Would you have been mad if I did own one?”

“No way, I would’ve suggested we use it to spice up our sex lives even more,” Robert told her.

Andy smacked her husband’s arm, before turning to leave the room again. “You need to get dressed because we gotta go in like fifteen minutes. I got out the cereal.”

“Okay, thanks.” Robert listened to his wife, and joined her in the kitchen for coffee moments later. He offered her the coffee pot, but she shook her head. It surprised Robert as Andy wasn’t one to skip out on caffeine.

Andy could tell her husband was starting to get a bit suspicious, so she made her exit. “Gonna change, then we can go,” she said in a rush, then jogged up the stairs to their bedroom again.

Shutting the door behind her, Andy leaned against it, before sliding to the floor. It was getting a little exhausting trying to keep their teeny tiny surprise a secret, especially from her husband. Not that she wanted to be keeping secrets, but this one was too big to tell him yet. Andy wasn’t ready for him to know. Unfortunately, keeping it from him went against the main slogan of their marriage: no more secrets. Robert had told her that on many occasions, always with a kiss on her lips following. This was an exception, or at least that’s what Andy told herself to make her feel better.

The young woman shed her clothes and put on clean ones, then grabbed her purse and a pair of socks. She turned the hidden object over in her hand once, before slipping it back and smiling to herself. “Baby, you ready to go?”

“Yep, and I have coffee for you to go,” Robert handed Andy the travel mug, which she dutifully took. Hopefully she’d be able to pour the contents down the sink when her husband wasn’t looking.

They got in the car and drove to work. The streets were pretty empty, as it was barely six-thirty a-m. Andy silently prayed people would stay safe today, making their job easier but also keep people living. It also meant Andy wasn’t taking big risks, something she knew she should avoid for the foreseeable future. Robert didn’t think anything was different, as he reached across the center console to take Andy’s hand. She smiled at him, and he pressed his lips to her fingers. They were stupidly in love without a care in the world.

Once they reached the station, the couple changed into their work attire and headed up to the kitchen for their second breakfast. Andy realized she conveniently forgot the travel mug of coffee in the car, and sighed with relief. Except the second they came around the corner, Ben was offering a second coffee to Robert, and extended it to Andy.

“I’m good, thanks Warren,” she said, avoiding Robert’s gaze and scurrying to sit with Maya and Vic at the table. “Hey guys.”

“Hey Andy,” Vic greeted her.

“We were just talking about Pru’s recent development in mobility,” Maya explained.

Babies, Andy thought, I can talk about that. “Is she still doing the butt-scootch thing?”

Vic nodded. “Yep. Dean’s been trying to get her to take a few steps because she’s more than ready. But she’s a stubborn girl.”

It would be awhile longer, but teaching a child to walk was something that thrilled Andy. “I can’t wait for that,” Andy accidentally burst out, before catching herself. “I mean, I can’t wait for Pru to start walking.”

“Same.” Learning back, Vic looked like a proud mother, despite the fact that Pru wasn’t her kid.

Maya waited a second longer, before pushing her chair back as the rest of the A-crew took a seat. “Okay, Montgomery and Herrera, you two are on aid car today. The rest of you guys, make sure the truck’s in tip-top shape.”

After a chorus of ‘yes-es’, the team spread out. Andy and Travis were called to a house regarding someone who choked on a piece of sausage (the Heimlich was performed swiftly and effectively), while the rest of the firefighters were sentenced to putting out a warehouse fire. A machine had caught a spark, which spread to all the wood materials lighting on fire. Not a great combination, yet Station 19 was prepared and managed to evacuate everyone in record time. Maya commanded the radio outside, as Vic, Robert, Jack and Dean did a final sweep. The aid care, with Andy and Travis inside, pulled up just as Maya was about to call her firefighters back. No one was hurt, but it was good to have the care on standby just in case.

The radio crackled, and Vic’s voice rang out. “There’s one more person in here! They’re trapped under a wooden shelf.” Static, then there was a muffled noise, before a shout could be heard. “Dammit!”

Instantly Maya had the radio switched on. “What happened?”

“The fire just lit up the entire back wall,” Vic reported. Andy’s heart beat loudly in her chest, as she feared for her fellow firefighters’ lives, and most of all her husband’s.

“Get the person stable, and then get out,” Maya ordered. “Gibson, Miller, what’s the status on the exit?”

“Clear. The direct path has nothing structural that could fall. But the smoke is thick. We need to start putting out the fire in the main area or else it has the potential to block off where we need to go,” Jack reported.

“Okay, good. Get out and you can help the other stations spray from the windows.” The warehouse luckily had a bunch of windows, which made access to the fire easier. Maya had had the windows smashed in earlier.

“Copy that.” Jack’s radio went muffled for a moment, then two doors opened at the side of the building. “Hey Herrera, Montgomery, nice of you to join us,” Jack said with a laugh. Travis nodded hello while Andy didn’t even look in Jack’s direction. She was too focused on whatever fate her husband had. Recently her emotions and hormones had been all over the place, leaving her wanting to cry one moment and incredibly turned on the next. Right now though, Andy was scared for her husband’s life.

“We got them!” This time it was Robert’s voice on the radio. “Heading for the exit.”

The seconds ticked away as everyone who wasn’t spraying water at the fire, had their eyes on the double doors where they expected Vic and Robert to emerge from. Maya was worried, and turned on the radio again. “Sullivan and Hughes, where are you guys?”

The only answer was static. Andy thought she head a shout but it was too muffled to tell. Then one door pushed open, and she rushed towards it. Vic called out, “Help me grab the guy!”

Andy held open the door as Vic stumbled through it towing a man behind her. She coughed loudly, as the smoke was incredibly thick. Robert was nowhere to be found.

While Travis did his job and checked over the man, Andy turned to Vic. “Where’s Sullivan?” She asked, remembering to use her husband’s proper title since they were at work.

Vic didn’t answer her. Instead she spun around and fixed her helmet back on her head. “I’m going back in there,” she said.

“No you aren’t.” Maya stopped her.

There was panic in Vic’s eyes. “Sullivan is still in there. A huge beam came down just as I was rounding the corner to the exit. Sullivan jumped back just in time, but we were separated. The smoke is so bad, and I had the guy with me. I could see the exit, so I thought I could just drop him off and the go back for Sullivan.”

“You left him?” Andy whirled on Vic.

“No, I couldn’t get to him. I had a civilian and I told him I’d go back. I have to go back,” Vic repeated to Maya.

“No. No one is going back in there.” Maya stated firmly. She picked up her radio and said, “Sullivan, do you copy?”

There was nothing, except for Vic’s voice apologizing. “I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t reach him and I had the civilian and-”

“Nothing. You made the call and it was what was necessary.” Maya attempted to contact Robert via the radio again, with no luck.

Suddenly, there was a huge crash and a section of the warehouse roof began to cave in. Andy watched in horror as smoke billowed out into the sky and there continued to be no response from the radio. “ROBERT!” A scream left Andy’s throat as she lunged herself towards the doors her husband was still trapped behind. Much to her dismay, both Maya and Vic lunged after her, stopping her from charging in after him. She struggled against the women but soon gave up. “Somebody do something!”

Maya shook her head sadly. “It’s up to him to get out, I can’t risk another firefighter. Andy, he’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that!” Andy was practically in hysterics, which wasn’t like her at all. She was normally pretty put together, even when his life had been in danger before.

Jack came over and looked Andy right in the eyes. “I know he’ll make it out to you. He’s been a firefighter for a long time, and will be fine. Trust him.”

“Okay.” Andy’s voice was small as she nodded. Jack gave her shoulder a reassuring pat, then stood off to the side. He was worried about his friend because she was rarely this emotional while on a call. Sure, she had broken down from time to time, but it was rare for to lose it at the scene. Maybe she and her husband-it was still weird to say that after almost a whole year-had had a fight beforehand, and she didn’t get the chance to work things out.

Water continued to rain down on the building but the radio remained silent. Maya tried over and over to reach Robert with no response. The panic was just starting to settle in, when someone shouted that they saw movement through one of the broken windows.

Inside the building the air was thickening with smoke and Robert was losing air fast. But he had someone to fight for, well two someones actually. He was not about to leave his wife the way his first wife had left him. Claire’s death had almost killed him, and he would do whatever he could to save Andy from losing someone else. Up ahead, Robert saw the exit that separated him from the love of his life. With a last surge of strength, Robert burst open the doors and stumbled a short distance before he fell to the concrete. Cold, fresh air filled his lungs as he took in gasping breaths. He looked up and saw that the sky above him wasn’t smoke but clear and blue with the sun shining too. I’m safe, he thought. I’m safe and I'm alive.

Seconds later, two figures reached him. One was Travis, thrusting an oxygen mask into his hands for him to put on, and the other was his wife. Her arms engulfed him in a hug, and she practically lay on top of him on the ground. At first, Robert thought she was just happy to see him alive and well, then he felt her shaking in his lap. “I’m safe, it’s okay,” he told her, pulling back slightly so he could wipe the tears from her eyes.

“I thought I lost you,” Andy told him, as she pressed the oxygen mask to his face. Travis stepped back and gave them a few feet of space, as the rest of the group worked to spray the flames.

“You’ll never lose me, I’m too stubborn to die,” Robert reassured her.

Andy nodded, but she wasn’t convinced, She was just thankful he had made it back to her, and didn’t leave her all alone to raise their child. “I love you, baby,” she managed to get out.

“I love you.” His words echoed back and he hugged her tightly again. Moments later, Maya appeared at his side, and Andy moved to get up off of the ground. “Hey Captain Bishop, things were getting a bit toasty, huh?”

“Just a bit,” Maya rolled her eyes. “You okay Sullivan?”

“Fine.” The man in question had regained enough oxygen in his lungs and strength in his body, to rise to a standing position.

“You should head over to the aid car and rest; we can debrief later.” Maya glanced around, then leaned over to her fellow firefighter. “Hey, is Andy alright?”

Robert raised an eyebrow. “She’s fine, why?”

Maya sighed. “She acted overly emotional when you were struggling to get out of the building. I totally understand why, but it’s unlike her. I just wanted to make sure things were okay.”

“Oh, I understand.” Pausing, Robert hesitated how to approach the subject of why when he knew Andy didn’t even know he knew about her secret. “I’m sure she was just worried.”

“Right,” Maya said. She didn’t look completely convinced, but luckily thought Robert didn’t get questioned any longer. He made his way over to Travis at the aid car and got his head looked at. It was just a bruise, which would heal in no time.

The fire eventually died down and lost the war against the firefighters and water. Station 19 began to pack up, and Andy came over to give her husband a check up of her own, before getting back into the aid car. Vic apologized profusely to Robert for leaving him, and he told her that he would’ve done the same thing, had he been in her position. As Andy and Travis pulled away, Robert was leaning over to give Vic a reassuring hug; all was okay.

Once they got back, chores needed to be done, then people started heading to the showers or to crash in a bunk room. Andy slipped away and went back to the barn, swinging herself up to sit on the back of the firetruck amongst the many hoses. It had been a long day, even though it was barely eight o’clock. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, with maybe a little loving from her husband first.

Speaking of Robert, his voice carried through the barn as he spotted her. “Hey, can I join you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Andy nodded, moving so he could come up too. She let out a loud sigh, and ran a hand through her messy curls.

Robert watched her, concern in his gaze. “Everything okay?”

“Today was a close call,” Andy began, looking at her hands instead of her husband. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Robert wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “Me too.” There was a moment of silence, until Robert decided it was time to rip off the bandaid. But first, he needed to tell her something. “I love you, you know that?”

Pulling away, Andy snuck a glance at Robert. “Of course, silly. I love you too.”

“Good.” Robert smiled slightly, then bumped her shoulder with hers. “Then I just wanted to tell you that I know.”

Andy whipped her head towards her husband. “You know what.”

“I know. Don’t try to hide it any longer.”

“What do you know.”

“I know.”

“I know you know, but what do you know?” Andy was very stubborn, and was not about to show her cards first.

Robert, who gave into arguments like this with her more often than she did, sighed and told her: “I know about the baby. That you’re pregnant.”

“Dammit.” She looked back down at her hands. “I was trying to keep it a secret for a little while longer. How did you find out? You didn’t look in my sock drawer, did you?”

“No, I wouldn’t invade your privacy like that,” Robert reassured her.

“Then what was it?”

“Well you’ve been acting funny the past couple days. Avoiding coffee, being way more emotional than normal-which there’s nothing wrong with but it isn’t like you normally-and disappearing to throw up at the same time for the past five days. You deny it but I know my wife.”

Shaking her head, Andy let out a sigh. “I can’t keep anything a secret from you.”

“So are you pregnant?” Robert wanted his wife to say it, to confirm his theory.

“Yes, I’m pregnant.” Andy nodded.

Robert didn’t hesitate. He leaned over and pulled his wife into the biggest hug, then began to press sloppy kisses all over her face. She laughed, swatting at him lightly. “I love you so much,” Robert gushed. “And I love you too, baby,” he said, looking down at Andy’s non-showing belly.

Andy took his hand and placed it where their baby was growing inside of her right now. “You’re not gonna want to miss this, ever,” she said.

“Never,” he agreed.

They were quiet for a moment, just breathing together. Then Andy spoke: “Before you tell me to lighten my duties, I planned on talking to Maya later this week. We have a girl’s night in the works, and I need to tell her before she suggests we go to a bar for shots.”

“Didn’t even cross my mind yet, but I’m glad you knew what I was going to ask in the future,” Robert said with a laugh. He pressed another kiss to Andy’s lips, then looked all around him.

“What?” Andy asked, as she watched her husband.

“I was just thinking, this is where it all started. Right here in the barn, when I was introduced as the new captain of Station 19. Who knew that we’d be here now, married with a baby on the way?” He lay back, pulling Andy down with him, and they tangled themselves amongst the folded hoses, snuggled together like they had lay that morning before getting up.

Andy confessed, “Not me. I hated you for a good while, before I realized I was using hate to cover up what I felt for you.”

Robert chimed in, “And I told myself I wasn’t going to fall in love with a firefighter half my rank. Look where that got me.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“And we’re going to be good parents, right?”

“The absolute best. First thing we’re going to do is teach them Spanish. After English of course.”

“Okay. Only if I get to teach them how to make French toast because-”

“It’s the only thing you know how to make for breakfast.”

#station 19 #station 19 fanfic #andy x sullivan #andy x sullivan fanfic #surrera #surrera fanfic #andy herrera #andy herrera fanfic #robert sullivan #robert sullivan fanfic #fluff #fanfic on tumblr #the definition of endgame

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bokutosworld · 4 years ago

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enchanted | oikawa tooru

note: this was a very self-indulgent fic haha i wanted to relax yesterday and wrote something off the top of my mind. i’ve had taylor swift’s enchanted on repeat the past week and i just wanted to write something about it. i debated whether i should have a haikyuu boy featured and somewhere along writing it became an oikawa x reader piece with 2.9k words. hehe.

act 1: "your eyes whispered, 'have we met?'

the sudden downpour surprised commuters and passersby on the street. some are already taking out their umbrellas, while some are hurriedly finding refuge in convenience stores and coffee shops.

today's weather report said it was going to be sunny and no chance of rainfall. so why? she silently curses the gods. of all the days it could have rained, it had to be today when she had a job interview in an hour. and by her luck (or lack of it), she forgot to bring an umbrella with her. she wasn't always as careless as today. she was just nervous, having stayed up all night because she was excited to finally have a chance to join her dream company.

she was tossing and turning all night. her mind going 200 miles per hour, not letting her get any sleep and thinking about all the possibilities that could happen today. but of all the scenarios her thoughts wandered off to, she did not consider the rain ruining her plans. she sighed, maybe it wasn't the right time yet. defeated, she decided to enter her local cafe just a block away from the subway. it was too early to give up, she knew, but she figured the rain might have suspended the train operations. traffic was already building up, so taking a taxi was out of the question. any effort would be futile. she takes out her phone, maybe she'll try again next time.

the comforting aroma of the coffee beans and the calming lofi music welcomed her. there was a line at the counter, but not that long. she stepped in and scanned the menu board. should i get the usual latte, she mused. but the weather is perfect for a hot chocolate with marshmallows. she was so lost in her thoughts, still undecided, that she failed to notice the barista already looking at her. ah, she opts for the hot chocolate. before she leaves to take a seat, she takes a second look at the man who took her order.

she couldn't quite put a finger on it, but the man had a certain air of familiarity. he's cute, she thought. waiting for her drink, she found herself admiring the man working on her drink. he had bright and kind eyes that put her at ease and a smile that could put the sun to shame. when he greeted her, she was surprised at how loud his voice was that she almost flinched. the man noticed and he apologized followed by a laugh that she thought was music to her ears.

sitting on a table next to the window, she saw how he carried himself with such grace and moved around the bar as if he owned the shop. maybe he does own the shop. he expertly sets the cup down and fills it with her drink. he was finishing up and she took it as a sign to go to the counter, placing her bag on her seat, when the man approached her with the drink. he sets it on the table, i figured you had a rough morning. enjoy your drink, he says with his boyish smile.

and she couldn't help herself anymore. maybe it was the frustration that she felt, not being able to proceed with her plan for the day. maybe she was looking for that one good thing to happen to make up for her dream being rained upon by the storm. maybe there was a .00001 chance (one that she wouldn't dare to admit) that she's taken a liking to him. 'do i know you,' she finally asked.

he leans down, bringing his face close to her, and smiles.' no, but would you allow me to get to know you?'

act 2: two a.m., who do you love?

since that day, she's been frequenting the cafe. in the mornings, in her afternoon breaks (she finally got a job as an editor for the publishing company just across the street. 'a work of fate,' he said), and even in the evenings when she would wait for him to close the cafe.

it's been three months since they decided to start a friendship. oikawa tooru was his name. she learned that he indeed owned that cafe. it was not something that he had planned but he loved drinking coffee and when he learned the basics of brewing during that one workshop in his senior year in college, he knew he wanted to open a cafe. right after university, he got his parents' support to start his business but it was only last year that he became hands-on with the shop. knowing that the corporate world was not for him, he settled for a comfortable life surrounded by drinks, pastries, and good music.

she learned that he liked his coffee black, with the exception of iced white chocolate mocha on days when he felt like relaxing and taking things slow. just like today. the pair was strolling around the mall, a cup of coffee (iced for him, hot for her) in each of their hands. he was gift hunting for his nephew who was turning six the following weekend. 'you have to help me find something. it's like he hates whatever i give him,' he said as he pleaded for her to go shopping with him. it wasn't like she was going to say no. she's come to love his company. besides, how could she refuse when he was literally putting on the cutest puppy dog eyes and a little pout in front of her?

so here they are now, going inside their fifth store for the day. she wondered how could he still be full of energy after walking around for hours. 'how about that robot figurine,' she tiredly asked, hoping it could be what he was looking for. he looked over and thought about it, and it's as if a light bulb appeared in his head. he excitedly turned and hooked an arm around her shoulders, dragging her close to the toy. 'you are a genius! how could i forget that he was in love with these robots,' he exclaimed as he ruffled her hair. he was going to call a saleslady to help him with his purchase but before he let go, he peppered both her cheeks with kisses, 'stay here. i'll go get someone to wrap this up.' she froze, processed what just happened, and before she could react, he was already running down the aisles looking for assistance. her heart beat faster and she felt hot where his lips made contact on her face. she put both hands on her cheeks, ah, what is this?

after that incident, it's like she saw him in a different light. call it cliche, she thought, but is this love? oikawa was very grateful for her help in finding a gift that he brought her as his plus one to his nephew's party. 'why me,' she asked when he invited her for the weekend. his laughter filled his room where they were currently hanging out and he replied, 'well, you were the one that picked this. plus, i think my nephew will like you. i want to introduce two of my favorite people to each other.'

and there it was again. the beating of her heart getting faster and the surprising urge to hug him. she shook her head, she refused to believe that a tiny part of her likes him. yet here she was, holding his hand in front of his family home where the birthday party was happening. to say she was scared was an understatement but oikawa assured her that his family would love her.

like the night before her job interview months ago, she couldn't sleep well and her thoughts kept her up. why is he doing this? why is he bringing me to a family event? perhaps, no, he couldn't like me. we're just friends. yes, we're friends, she repeated that over and over in her mind so she could keep her sanity.

'oikawa, is that your girlfriend,' his cheeky nephew asked. she was taken aback and did not know how to reply. but he was quick to respond, chuckling, he crouched down to his nephew's height and whispered (so quietly that she missed what he said), 'not yet but i like her.' and he put his finger behind his lips, shushing and his nephew imitated him. the little boy mischievously looked at her then went on to play with his cousins. she was about to ask what he said, but they were suddenly called by his other relatives.

the party went by too fast. as she expected, they were bombarded with questions about their relationship, seeing that it was the first time oikawa brought anyone over at their residence. whenever that topic popped up, he was quick to answer, as vaguely as possible that it left her with so many questions, 'she's a very dear friend who you'll probably see more of in the future.' his family teased them endlessly and she couldn't do anything but play along with it. it wasn't good for her heart and she knew she had to ask him soon.

she didn't expect that soon would happen immediately that night. like the gentleman he was, he dropped her off at her apartment. it was two a.m. and it was 'dangerous for a girl to go home alone,' he reasoned. if they didn't stop by a fast food to get their burgers and milkshakes fix, she would have been home much earlier. but both of them didn't want to part yet. just as she was about to open her door, he cleared his throat, a habit he always did when he wanted to say something.

she turned around, curiosity in her eyes, when he said, 'i'm in love with you.' it was a calculated risk. throughout their trip home, oikawa ran over the possible scenarios of what could happen if he confessed tonight. there was a slim chance that she would accept him, he thought. that's why he kept her past her 11 p.m. curfew (not that she really had a curfew, she just really wanted to catch the friends rerun before she slept). and he knew how much that little routine of hers was important that he was surprised when she didn't say no to his offer of burger and milkshake. that's when he knew he had to tell her tonight.

and it was worth it, because as he saw the sweet smile he had come to love, he also finally heard the words he's been waiting for, 'i'm in love with you too.'

act 3: my thoughts will echo your name

she was currently sitting at the spot where they first talked to each other. she looked over her lover, working the counter and busying himself with the coffee orders. it was christmas, and like any other establishment, his place was packed with customers who wanted to stay away from the cold winter.

they made plans to spend the holiday night together at his home. while they both liked going outside, trying out new restaurants for dates, they also loved the domesticity in their relationship. on most weekends, she would be spending an entire day in his apartment. sitting together on his bed and bundled in blankets, they could bingewatch movies and series for hours while eating instant noodles or convenient store meals. they didn't need expensive things or gourmet food, all they needed was the company of one another.

that's why, hours before settling in her spot in his coffee shop, she was shopping for groceries. they wanted to cook something together, or at least he wanted her to cook. oikawa couldn't be left alone in the kitchen without him messing something up. last time he tried to surprise her with breakfast in bed, she woke up to the smell of something burning. lucky for him, she came to his rescue and saved the omurice he was attempting to make. she laughed at that memory.

'what are you smiling about,' he asked as he was now sitting in the chair in front of her. he has changed to his casual clothes, his beige winter coat hugging his tall frame. handsome, she thought. they stood up, oikawa taking the bags of groceries in his one hand and her palm in another. they said goodbye to his employees, reminding them to close early for the night. it was a holiday after all.

it was a simple setup. he brought out his kotatsu as she did the finishing touches on their feast. together, they placed their home-cooked meals on their table. garden salad, steak, pasta, and cream of mushroom soup. there were fruits on the side and of course, wine.

sitting side-by-side, they clinked their glasses together. 'merry christmas, love,' oikawa greeted. she beamed at him, never did she think that she would be spending her christmas with someone. for years, she's been used to being alone. but now, she had him by her side and she felt she would do anything to keep this happiness forever and to keep the smile on his face.

she closed the gap between them and kissed him, 'merry christmas, tooru.'

act 4: i was enchanted to meet you

pacing around the room, her mind was in overdrive. she went over her to-do list in her mind, reviewing if everything was ready and in place. flowers, check. catering, check. gift registry, check. wedding dress, check. rings, oh my god, the rings, she panicked.

sensing her distress, her best friend stood up from her seat and calmed her down. she sat her down at the available vanity chair and called on a makeup artist. only three hours left but she wasn't ready yet. she insisted on being the last one to prepare as she wanted to make sure that nothing would go wrong today. 'are you ready,' inquired the makeup lady. she looked up in the mirror and nodded.

in the room next to hers, oikawa was lounging and scrolling at his phone. unlike her, he has been ready since morning. to say that he was excited was an understatement. he has been looking forward to this day. he glanced at his buddies fixing their tuxedos and their hair. it’s happening, he thought. unable to control himself, he opened his messages and sent her a text, i can't wait to see you.

the guests were finally arriving. the church, decorated with a red carpet and strewn with red and white flowers, was finally filling up. greetings, conversations, and laughter could be heard in the venue, many expressing their excitement for the wedding to start. then the bells rang. the pianist took his seat and started playing.

the groom and his best man stood waiting at the altar. each member of the entourage walked slowly down the aisle. then it was her turn. she was nervous. she thought she might trip over her own feet and fall on her face. now that would be a sight, she thought. but as she saw him waiting in front with the biggest grin adorning his face, her nerves calmed down and she found herself being pulled by his presence.

she took her spot, at the side, and smiled as they made eye contact, their glances filled with love. then the guests stood up, oohs and aahs filled the venue, and a different melody echoed in the room.

her best friend, the bride, started walking down the aisle. she looked at her, they knew each other since childhood and made a promise that they would be each other's maid of honor. she was finally fulfilling her promise and she couldn't be prouder of her best friend who was about to start a new chapter in her life.

the groom, someone who she and oikawa also knew, held the bride's hands. together, they faced the priest and the program began.

as the couple were exchanging their vows, she was tearing up a bit and oikawa couldn't help but look at her adoringly. she's always been beautiful, he thought, but today she has a different glow. he wondered what she would look like in her own wedding dress in their own wedding.

lost in his thought, he didn't notice when she turned his way and caught him staring. her breath was taken away and it was as if the surroundings blurred and they were in their own world.

if someone told her before that she would one day find her greatest love, she would have laughed. heartbreak after heartbreak in her younger years built a strong protective wall around her heart that she thought she would rather spend her days alone (with a cat or dog, maybe).

looking back on that fateful day, it seems that the rain was a blessing in disguise. if it wasn't for the damned weather, she wouldn't have met oikawa tooru, the best thing to happen in her life. he taught her genuine happiness, gave her the greatest love, left her with the most beautiful memories, and even brewed her the best coffee in the world.

thunder suddenly roared and raindrops fell on the church's roof. they were both pulled from their reverie and caught each other's eyes. déjà vu, they both thought. it was as if they were back in the very first moment they met.

they had a knowing and loving look as they gazed at each other. smiles on their lips, no words were needed, their eyes communicated all they wanted to say, i was enchanted to meet you.

#oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fics #haikyuu!!#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fluff #also this is probably the first and last fic i will write 🤣 unless i get bored or sad again #OK BYE #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! fics #haikyū #haikyuu!! x reader

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