i would love literally anything sam winchester related the lack of fics r astounding.. maybe something fluffy?? ive had a bad week would so cheer me up
Best fake-real husband
ASKS ARE OPEN
Sam Winchester x fem!reader
Summary: You and Sam go undercover in a small town to find out what's been happening to the disappearing couples.
ASK: above
Warnings: typical supernatural violence, awkward moments, mid season sam (in my mind it’s season 5 so its not following canon plot)
Author notes: Thankyou so much for the ask!!! I hope this is good :))) also Sam is the leader of the Sassy man army and if you don’t think so you can leave. Also thank you to @midsummeranderson for helping me plan <3
word count: 4110
You had always hated suburban houses, they just seemed empty, unforgiving. Though you didn’t have much of a choice. Bobby had a case and you two were to go undercover.
”Husband and wife…” Sam began, a glint in his eyes as he moved around the open plan kitchen, opening the windows to salve the heat that bit at their necks.
You smiled in reply, laying out weapons to move to the spare room. “Not awkward at all.” You replied and he laughed, shrugging his usual flannel onto a chair and digging into his bag.
Sam looked up, smiling, holding two rings in his hand. “Nope. I’m going to be the best fake-real husband ever. Dean thinks I can’t and I’m kinda determined to prove him wrong.” You sigh and shake your head, but there’s no annoyance behind it. Trust Dean to make a game out of it.
A piece of hair fell in front of his eyes - it’s so long now that it reaches his shoulders, princelike. “Well then I guess I’ll have to be a good wife.” He hummed in agreement and you tucked his hair back behind his ear and a smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’m off to a good start, Sam Heathcliff.”
You gently slipped the ring onto your finger, the metal slightly too big for you. It was your grandmothers, a mix of silver and sapphire. Sam places his dad’s wedding band on his own hand, fiddling with it gently. It made you smile softly, how the ring was cold against your skin - your grandmother had always wanted you to wear it.
A knock at the door pulled you out of your memories and the two of you looked to each other with confusion, Dean wasn’t meant to be here until later that evening. You opened the door cautiously, flitting into character when you saw a 57 year old woman holding a large pie in her hands.
She grinned cheerily, pushing the dish forward into your hands as she spoke, you didn’t really have another choice but to take it (you’d probably hand it off to Dean later.) “Hi,” the voice sounded fake, satirical. She never met your eyes, she was almost entirely focused on Sam. “I heard there was a new couple in town, thought I’d do the neighbourly thing and say hi.” She began, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a particularly suggestive manner. “We’d love to have you over this weekend, monthly barbeque.”
You looked at Sam, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving and wrapped your arms around his waist. “We’d love to…” you waited for a name, the woman smiled with annoyance, as if she hated you speaking to her.
“Helen. Watson.”
The two of you introduced yourself and agreed to go, knowing the gathering would be useful to get information. With one last glance at Sam, Helen turned around and left, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Dean came round that evening, constantly grinning and mocking and (as you had expected) he greeted the pie with open arms. “Look you two,” he began, as if he were an expert on the subject, “You’re practically a couple already, just… act like you’re in your honeymoon phase for the old women.”
He stated this as if it were an obvious fact and you raised your brows at his use of the word ‘honeymoon’. Sam looked away in annoyance (Something Dean found extremely funny). It seemed as though the younger Winchester couldn’t wait to get rid of Dean and so, as soon as he had finished his pie, he was forced out the door and back to the impala. There was a second sigh of relief when the door closed.
Though it had seemed like a smart idea at the time, the two of you were sorely regretting filling the spare room with hunting gear as it had left you with one bedroom. “I’ll take the couch,” Sam said as he gathered some clothes to sleep in, you stood in the doorway, arms folded as you shook your head.
“Not a chance, you’d barely fit on this bed imagine how uncomfortable you'd be downstairs.” You argued and he shook his head, trying to claim that he’d slept worse. Eventually, the two of you came to an agreement. Sam would sleep over the covers, you’d sleep under them (he always got hot at night anyway - especially during the summer).
You excused yourself to the bathroom and by the time you had gotten back Sam was already asleep, long hair falling gently over his eyes. You lay down beside him and got comfortable, though you forgot just how much Sam moved in his sleep. He seemed to subconsciously move closer to you, warm, tan skin flush against yours.
His face was inches from yours, holding a gentle smile as if he were happily dreaming (though that was something that didn’t happen often). You gently moved the hair from his eyes and he moved closer still, broad shoulders brushing against you. You fell asleep in the comfort of his warmth and awoke with his arms wrapped securely around you. He wasn’t awake yet, you always woke up before him.
You eventually found it in yourself to move from his grip and headed downstairs, intending to make breakfast for the two of you. He was downstairs a few moments later, hair a sweet, tousled mess on his head. You smiled sweetly but neither of you spoke - there wasn’t much need to.
The two of you seemed to move around each other as if you had been married for years as you got ready for the barbeque, passing each other what you needed wordlessly. Chalk it up to years of hunting together.
“Todays gonna be entertaining for me.” You stated, a smirk on your face. He tilted his head in confusion as if he were a dog and you smiled, eyes drifting to his shoulders for a moment. “C’mon Sam, it’s a town of 47 year old women who hate their husbands and you’re a - very awkward - 6 '4 man. A handsome one at that.” He blushed and turned away, continuing to get ready.
His hands fiddled with the jacket in front of him. “Yeah, so?” You smiled at him, opening the front door as you spoke again.
“So, it’s gonna be fun watching you squirm.” Your smile turned to a grin and Sam shook his head, following you out the door.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
You were right, as expected. Although most were fine, one specific group of women made an exaggerated effort to fan themselves, whispering to each other about Sam. They almost immediately ushered you over. You sent a look to your best friend and headed toward them.
Immediately, they began to gossip, asking you about how you and Sam met and you could barely get a word in edgeways. There were compliments thrown at you too, but you knew they were just to stop you ‘feeling jealous.’
“How did you get so lucky?” One woman, Helen, asked. Her voice was wrought with envy as she stared over at Sam. Part of you understood why they were staring, Sam looked strangely good in the traditional small town husband attire. His white polo had a few buttons undone and the fabric was tight on his arms (Dean had ordered the wrong size) and his long hair was held back from his head by a pair of sunglasses, a few stray pieces falling over his eyes. The only part you weren’t a fan of was the khaki shorts…but it seemed to be the dress code in the town so you brushed it off - you and Dean would probably make fun of him for it later. He felt his gaze on you and turned to meet your eyes, smiling softly and winking. The women around you giggled and you rolled your eyes, to which he laughed.
It turned out that talking to the four women was the best thing for the case, they absolutely adored gossip. “Couples have been going missing, it always starts with the husbands.” Margaret whispered excitedly, “It happened to the couple who were here before you, sweet things.” she continued, sipping on a glass of wine.
You tilted your head, something Sam recognised from a distance, you’d had an idea. “Do they leave anything behind? People can’t just disappear?” You asked, pulling your hand through your hair.
Helen shook her head. “The damn council barely clean out the houses.” You nodded. Bingo. If the house hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned, chances are there’d be evidence. Helen continued to ramble and you were listening intently, until a hand gently slid onto your waist.
You let out a gasp but the strong smell of cedarwood and amber calmed you down. You knew exactly who it was. His grip pulls tighter around you and you lean into him, head resting on his chest. You felt your face flush - something you were praying he didn’t notice.
“How did you two meet?” One woman asked and you looked at each other, making sure without ever even speaking that you had the story right.
Sam leaned his head on yours and sweetly said, “why don’t you take this one, honey.” his eyes sparkled with mischief, he was trying to throw you off and the hand that was massaging your side was proof of that.
You met his eyes with the same excitement, if he wanted to play, you were really going to go for it. “We both worked as government agents, met on the field. Hence all the scars.” The women nodded in realisation, looking at some of the injuries you hadn’t quite managed to hide. “He wasn’t the biggest fan of mine at first but I grew on him, isn’t that right darling?”
Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving yours as he replied, “and now I don’t want to be without her ever again.” He found that sentence to be more true than he thought.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Sam sent an exasperated look your way as he raked a hand through his hair (and sadly took the glasses off his head). “How were the boys?” you asked with a smile and he turned to make sure no one was watching before dropping the facade.
“I’m actually shocked how much I don’t know about football.” He replied and you both laughed, him leaning into you as he smiled. He looked outside at the group of gossipping women before adding on, “they seemed…friendly.”
You laughed, “to you, sure, but I think it’s because they want you in their bed.” The sentence was blunt and Sam’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing a strong red. You, however, continued as if you had never said anything, “I think it could be witches? We’d have to search for hex bags though.” He nodded, not meeting your eyes (he was slightly flustered).
The two of you eventually said your goodbyes and made your way down the street, Sam looked annoyed with himself. “What’s up?”
He sighed, “this one guy, Glenn, roped me into holding a housewarming party…” You stared at him incredulously, did he not try to say no? Sam recognised the look in your eyes and defended himself, “the man was incredibly persuasive!” You shook your head but knew there was no way out of it. You weren’t the best at party planning.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
The long stretch of grocery store met you as you and Sam stood in the doorway. You didn’t often do this as hunters so it was a slightly daunting task. You looked at each other with tired eyes and went your separate ways, deciding to cover ground as if it were a hunt…just for nachos.
You rounded a corner only to see Helen stood there. Not wanting to be stuck in conversation again, you instantly turned on your heel, hiding behind a row of sauces. Though, something caught your eye. In Helen’s basket, clearly hidden just not very well, was a large amount of herbs and salt. What got you interested was the extreme amount of basil and sage.
Witches. Had to be.
Sam approached you, smiling gently. Something about the situation made him look so… domestic. You tried to motion to him what you were thinking but he seemed so fixated on you, his reaching out for yours. “Can you do your job?” you spoke, the words sounding harsher than you had intended. He instantly pulled back, face twisting with annoyance.
“What?”
“Take the hint, Sam. Behind me.”
You continued to whisper back and forth in annoyance, alerting Helen who watched in confusion. You quickly turned to look at her and sighed as she approached, hiding the herbs with the rest of her groceries. “Lovers quarrel?” she joked and the two of you laughed in the same way Bobby would when Dean told another of his bad jokes.
Sam made excuses as you looked at her, trying to see if you could spot any witch runes on her. It seemed as though she was trying to do the same to you. “Well isn’t that tattoo…neat!” She said, trying to hide the venom in her voice as she pointed out the anti-possession tattoo on your collarbone. Great.
You looked at Sam in annoyance and turned back to Helen. “Thanks! I saw it in a magazine!” You tried to explain away but you knew you’d been caught, she had spotted you and you her. Though she was very keen to stay in conversation, Sam made a quick excuse and you both left as soon as you could.
“Told you it was witches.”
Sam didn’t reply. The car journey back was completely silent, an unspoken annoyance building in the both of you. Neither of you said a word until the front door closed. “Nice job letting her see the tattoo.” Sam said annoyedly, turning to look at you.
You sighed and turned away, packing away the groceries. “Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time actually hunting we’d be done by now! This isn’t exactly a hard case, we don't need more bodies to our name.” The reply was sharp and annoyed.
He suddenly grabbed your wrist so you’d look at him. “I’m doing my job just fine.” His eyes were locked with yours. You stepped closer.
“No, you’re not. You’re distracted.” Sam scoffed, his minty breath fanning against your cheek from how close you were. His hand was still firmly on your wrist.
An annoyed smile spread across his face and a muscle in his neck tensed. “Oh yeah? And why would I be distracted?” You stared directly at him, from his long hair that fell over his unreadable gaze to the smoothness of his bronzed skin.
You found yourself stepping closer again. “You tell me.”
There was a crushing silence, the only sound being your sharp breaths. Suddenly, Sam’s grip on your hand moved to your waist and he pulled you into him, his lips colliding with yours. You leaned into him, hands grabbing his hair harshly. He kissed you as if he were hungry, as if he had been waiting for years - maybe he had. He lifted you easily and sat you on the kitchen counter, leaning back from the kiss for a split second. His chest rose quickly in hot breaths as he kissed you again. You bit his bottom lip - letting blood drip as his hands gripped your skin.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
The party was loud and irritating, there wasn’t a moment where you had time for yourself, not one point where you weren’t ’y/n Heathcliff’. You and Sam had barely talked after the evening before - you didn’t know what to say.
You knew Helen would be at the party, not only would it be good to keep up appearances but she could get her next victim from it. Sam sent you a look and you nodded once, heading toward the spare bedroom in search of weapons, just in case.
A small, easily hidden knife was being placed into your waistband when Sam opened the door, closing it harshly behind him. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “had to get away from Miriam.”
You laughed gently and went back to preparing, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Helen’s here.”
“I know.”
Silence again. You sighed, “and you just left her out there? Alone?” His brows furrowed and he offered a witty remark, starting another hushed argument between the two of you.
On the other side of the door, Miriam and Margaret pressed their ears to the wood, giggling like school children at how the argument sounded to them. Through the muffled walls, all they could hear was gasps and sharp noises - of course they assumed what they wanted.
Sam’s hands pushed through his hair as he sighed, uncertain of what to do, when suddenly the door started opening. He rushed forward and pushed against it, rushing out a quick, “one moment!” All he heard in reply was laughs.
“What do we do?” He asked nervously and you stood still, nervous, until a thought popped into your head. You held your hands out - asking for permission and, once he nodded, you placed your hands gently in his soft hair, ruffling it. It annoyed you how he still managed to look good.
Then, once he had done the same for you, you looked him up and down, deciding his outfit was far too…tidy. First it was one button undone, then another (you unbuttoned a third for personal reasons). A blush rose on the tips of his ears.
He went to open the door when you realised something was still missing and, in a quick moment of panic, you rushed forward and grabbed his face, kissing him harshly on the lips (you were purposely trying to smudge your lipstick onto him). Sam made a noise in shock but found himself leaning into it, eyes lingering closed for a moment longer after you had pulled away.
Shit. He thought. He definitely liked you.
Eventually, the door was opened and Sam met the two women with an awkward smile. “Oh!’ Margaret began, giggling, “I was going to offer a drink, but I see you’re occupied…” The woman looked at one another, laughed again and walked away, leaving Sam blushing with embarrassment. The door was closed once more and when you were both sure they had walked away, laughter spilt into the room.
He shook his head and smiled, stepping closer to you. “Close one.” You smiled gently, staring into his eyes (the light was hitting them perfectly). There was silence again - neither of you knew what to do.
”Are we ever going to talk about last night?” You asked, thinking about how his hands felt on your skin. His features turned more serious as he sat down on the bed.
He stared at you, lipstick still in a smudge on his face. “I’m not sure what to say about it.” You neared him, hands trailing over his shoulders. Then, slowly, you leaned into him, lifting his chin with your finger as you felt his soft lips against yours. There was something impossibly gentle about it and you weren’t sure anyone had kissed you that softly before.
”Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”
He smiled. You kissed the corner of his grin and headed back downstairs, attempting to fix your hair as you went. You were met with stares as you entered the kitchen - Miriam had most definitely told everyone… at least it sold the cover.
Time passed with an almost excruciating level of slowness and Sam not making a re-entrance back downstairs wasn’t helping either (you had no one to distract you). Eventually, the party cleared out yet Sam was nowhere to be seen - now you began to panic.
You said goodbye to the final few neighbours and headed back upstairs, calling Sam’s name. The lack of response worried you. The first door by the stairs - the one that unfortunately led to your weapons room - was ajar, scratches around the lock. You pulled the dagger from your waistband and slowly opened the door, sighing as you saw the bloodstain on the floor. You had a feeling you knew who had taken him and where he had gone.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
You had managed to track him to Helen’s house, hiding around the back to get a good view through the sliding glass doors. Sat, tied to a chair in the middle of the main room, was Sam. His face was bruised and bloody and his expression looked annoyed, chest heaving with sharp breaths. Helen, Miriam and Margaret circled around him, playing with his hair and gathering items they needed for the spell.
”Poor Sam,” Helen began - you assumed she was the leader, “you’d think you’d be able to fight back against three 57 year olds.” Miriam headed into the kitchen as Margaret laughed, they almost reminded you of the witches from Macbeth.
”You’d also think, considering she’s a hunter, that your ‘wife’ would be better at hiding.” Suddenly, a surprisingly strong pair of hands grabbed you, pushing you against the wall.
You struggled against the grip but it was no use, your hands being painfully tied behind your back. Miriam ushered you into the living room, retiring you to a chair beside Sam. You met his eyes with an apologetic gaze and he returned it.
It was your turn to feel the bunt of the witches’ fun now, knives sliced at your skin and hair was cut from your head, you knew they’d done it somewhere visible on purpose. They grabbed at your face, nails digging into flesh and smiling as Sam protested.
Eventually, the three left the room and you and Sam began planning. You shuffled your chair toward him, trying to see if he could reach the dagger you always hid in your shoe. His hand brushed over your shin but he couldn’t reach any further.
With one final attempt, Sam tried to lean on the chair to reach, which ended with him toppling both chairs. He landed on top of you, his chest flush against yours. “Sorry.” He spoke, words hoarse from lack of breath.
Luckily for you, the fall had broken the ropes around your ankles and - though it hurt like hell - you manoeuvred your leg just enough to read the blade. Sam's hair tickled against your face and his lips tickled your neck - but that was something you’d have to think about later.
“Nice try you two.” Helen spoke as she waltzed back in. You hid the blade in your sleeve as your chair was fixed once more and while the three were busy working, you managed to slice through the ropes. you waited patiently, watching with a newfound confidence. Luckily for you, Maragaret was the type of witch to intimidate - her favourite tactic being getting as close as she could.
You took the opportunity and thrust the blade forward, stabbing through her throat. She screamed out and you stood up making your way over to the other two to fight. You took a fair few punches, but it was nothing new and soon enough the two others were on the floor too, holding onto the last of their life.
The large salt circle was immediately broken and Sam was freed, you apolising every time you accidentally touched any of his injuries. “That was badass.” Sam complimented and you laughed, leaning your hair back tiredly.
You turned away, starting to destroy the spell further as you spoke, “Ready to finally stop being husband and wife?” You asked and a small smirk rose on his face, hands snaking back over your waist again.
With sudden passion, he spun you back around, his eyes glinting. “Not really.”
With that, Sam lifted you off the ground, hands securely gripping your thighs as he kissed your neck. You had your back pushed against the wall as he moved to kiss your lips, your hands pulling at the back of his hair. He sighed and went to kiss you again when the front door swung open, revealing a disgusted (but slightly relieved) Bobby and a grinning Dean.
”We can explain?” Sam offered, gently lowering you back to the ground. You couldn’t look at one another.
Dean shook his head, smiling like a madman. “I don’t know Sammy, seems pretty obvious to me.” Then, with the same giddy happiness he turned to Bobby, who had since fished a ten dollar bill out of his pocket.
Typical. You and Sam shared an annoyed look as The other two hunters headed back out the door. ‘“C’mon you lovebirds,” Bobby began, “There’s a vamp nest in Chicago.”
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take my breath.
summary | lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.
characters | lee donghyuck x reader(f).
genres | fluff, romance, slice of life, strangers-to-lovers, meet-cute au, high school au, non-idol au.
warnings | profanity, me projecting my distaste for skinny jeans sorry hyuck ily, mentions of religion (hyuck is my fav church boy), he calls reader ‘princess’ :o like once tho lol, second-hand embarrassment,, mentions of jisung liking ive’s gaeul, not proofread so it’s probs all over the place sorry :P
word count | 5.5k.
37.5MHz | take my breath by nct dream ⋆ first love by sondia ⋆ lucky by exo.
it was time i had a more shy mc in my fics 💪💪 also this is me just projecting my dream meet-cute scenario that i always wish would happen during the damned winter lol!! ty all sm for waiting for this ep, i hope u enjoy ^^ ep.03 of my candy! miniseries, but it can be read on its own!
SATURDAYS ARE FOR THE BOYS, AND WHEN THE BOYS get together, Lee Donghyuck’s entire video game setup comes out.
Today is the second day of January, and in celebration of the New Year, Donghyuck has invited some of his closest friends over for an entire day of video games. Huang Renjun, Lee Jeno, Liu Yangyang, and Osaki Shotaro have their hands on a controller. Zhong Chenle is busy calling his girlfriend whereas Na Jaemin is immersed in a podcast about bunnies. To his left, Mark Lee is stressing over university course selections, and to his right, Park Jisung is scrolling through an unknown girl’s Instagram.
Donghyuck, being the Donghyuck he is, scooches over to Jisung with a mischievous smile.
“Who’s that?” he asks, startling the younger boy. “Your girlfriend?”
Jisung’s face turns red and Donghyuck wishes he had his phone right now to capture the scene. “N—No! She’s not my girlfriend—just a classmate, that’s all.”
That’s what Jisung says, but Donghyuck can tell that something is amiss. He nudges Jisung and wiggles his eyebrows. “Then is she a crush?”
Jisung resembles a beet.
“She is?” the older one coos, pinching the first year’s mochi-like cheek. “What do you like about”—he pauses to read the name—“Kim Gaeul?”
“I don’t know,” Jisung honestly responds, looking down at his unlocked phone. “She’s really pretty and good at dancing.”
“It was love at first sight,” Chenle budges in with a dreamy sigh. In his eyes, the joy of teasing sparkles. “He’s been stalking her Instagram ever since November.”
Donghyuck scrunches his nose at Chenle’s words. “Love at first sight? You’re kidding, right?”
Jisung shakes his head. “Why would I be kidding?”
Because ‘love at first sight’ is fake, Donghyuck wants to scoff, but he decides to keep that to himself. Jisung is obviously smitten with this girl, and as his older brother figure, the last thing Donghyuck wants to do is smash his innocent feelings. He instead opts to say, “You should at least follow her Instagram.” To that, Jisung vehemently shakes his head, and the topic is dropped at once.
Donghyuck doesn’t believe in love at first sight. To him, love is something that occurs over time, not seconds. How can someone claim they love another when all they know is what they look like and their name? There’s no depth to love at first sight, no authenticity. Perhaps he’s being antagonistic, or maybe he’s just realistic. Either way, there is no such thing as ‘love at first sight’ in Donghyuck’s dictionary, and it will be like that for the next one hundred years.
That was him yesterday, and whoever he was yesterday is not who he is today.
Lee Donghyuck thinks he’s fallen in love at first sight.
The road to the local CU is short but icy, an unfortunate outcome of the repeated snowfall throughout the past few weeks. The boys had slept over after last night’s truth or dare session seeped into the early hours of today. Even now, six of them are sprawled all across his living room while Renjun is tucked into Donghyuck’s sister’s bed. Mark walks beside him, the Canadian boy lounging in a sweater and a pair of basketball shorts despite the cold weather. Compared to him, Donghyuck is donning a thick winter jacket and a wool scarf for good measure.
“You look funny,” comments Mark, his hands finding solace in his sweater pockets.
Donghyuck shoots him a glare. “In Korea, someone like you is more likely to be stared at than me.”
The two make their way down the sidewalk to where CU is, finding themselves lost in a heated debate on whether Overwatch or League of Legends is a better game. (Donghyuck is a firm believer in Overwatch supremacy.) Mark exasperatedly shakes his head at Donghyuck’s stance, hands gesturing all over the place as he asserts why the younger one is completely and blatantly wrong. Donghyuck, in turn, groans in vexation, his chest muddled with frustration.
Donghyuck turns the corner. “Mark, you don’t underst—”
One moment, he’s breathing like a regular person. Half a second later, Donghyuck feels as if the air has been knocked out of his lungs. Oh great, he thinks as a body crashes into him and his arms instinctively wrap around them, what a wonderful way to start the day.
“Oh my God,” a small voice squeaks, clearly mortified at the predicament. His focus is hazy from the impact, blinking to clear his blurring gaze. “I am so, so sorry!”
Donghyuck glances at the figure in his arms and his eyes double in size. “Woah…” he mumbles, zoning out of his surroundings.
You pull away from his embrace, pink cheeks displaying your embarrassment. You profusely bow, avoiding eye contact with the boy. “I’m so sorry about this! Uh,” you crouch to pick up the bus card you’d dropped, “sorry! And thank you for catching me. Have a great day!”
One moment, you’re standing in front of Donghyuck and Mark. Half a second later, you’re turning the corner with great urgency.
Mark blinks. His lips are parted in confusion but no sound leaves his mouth. It takes him a minute to absorb the fast-paced situation. Finally, he says, “What the fuck was that?”
Donghyuck grazes a hand over his pounding heart, feeling the irregular beat through the several layers of thick winter clothes. Suddenly, he’s hotter than the sun despite the freezing weather. His ears are no longer tinted pink from the cold, but rather, a shade of crimson from the encounter. There’s an exhilarating feeling in his stomach, butterflies swarming his gut. He can vaguely hear Mark call his name in the background, the older guy tapping his shoulder.
Is this what Jisung felt like?
Did Donghyuck just fall in love at first sight?
“Melk,” he whispers—Mark makes a face at the nickname—one hand still over his heart, “I think I’m in love.”
Mark coughs. “I’m sorry, what?”
“So, let me get the facts straight,” says Renjun, hands folded as he digests the contents of Mark’s retelling. “You caught some girl from falling onto the ice by basically hugging her and now you’re in love with this girl who’s name you don’t even know?”
Donghyuck dreamily sighs. “Yeah.”
Jaemin flops onto the ground. “I think you’re insane.”
Donghyuck dreamily nods. “Yeah.”
The group of boys simultaneously shake their heads at Donghyuck’s lovestruck expression, (understandably) ridiculed at how smitten he is with a random girl he met on the streets. Donghyuck, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about your flustered frame from earlier. He’s never before seen a girl as cute as you. If he was in a K-Drama, he’s certain CGI flowers would have decorated the screen.
“Did you get a good look at her face?” asks Shotaro, invested in Donghyuck’s love life.
The male lead smiles. “She’s so pretty.”
Yangyang whistles. “Recognise her from anywhere, maybe?”
Donghyuck’s smile falls. His head hangs low. “No. She doesn’t look like a student at our school—I would definitely remember her face if she was. She did seem to be around our age, though.”
“If she was in our area,” says Jeno, patting his friend’s gloomy back, “there’s a chance you’ll see her again. Could be from a different block of complexes.”
“Yeah,” Chenle chimes in, briefly looking up from his Nintendo Switch. “If she was running the opposite way, she might’ve been going to the bus stop.”
Donghyuck perks up at that thought. “Maybe,” he excitedly murmurs. The seed of hope has begun to grow in his heart. Jeno and Chenle are right; why else would you be in this neighbourhood if you didn’t live nearby? As his friends scoot back to their respective activities, Donghyuck bites his lower lip in anticipation.
Perhaps, he will run into you sooner than expected.
Fate must hold a special spot in her heart for Donghyuck.
Roughly thirty-three hours after his meet-cute with you, Donghyuck decides to go for an ice cream run with Yangyang at seven in the evening. (Renjun was going to join, but Donghyuck’s sister insisted on cuddling and being the sweet boyfriend but terrible best friend he is, Renjun happily agreed. Donghyuck is not on good terms with his younger sister anymore.)
Yangyang rummages through the ice cream bars, searching for his go-to Seolleim. Donghyuck grabs a Nugabar and a Screwbar—he contemplates on giving one to Renjun, but ultimately decides on eating both of them instead.
His money, Renjun’s loss.
“Hello,” Donghyuck absentmindedly greets the cashier, placing the ice cream bars on the counter for scanning. He fishes out his card to pay, sticking the slim plastic into the machine. When the payment is complete, Donghyuck grabs his snacks and glances up to say his thanks.
Your pretty yet exhausted smile greets him back.
“You—!” His words are caught in his throat, taken aback at the scene before him. He tilts his ball cap from obscuring the top of his view. “The girl from yesterday!”
Your eyebrows crinkle, adorning a puzzled expression. Then, after studying his face for a second, your eyes widen in remembrance. “Ah! The guy from yesterday!”
(Yangyang watches from the sidelines.)
The fatigue has now been replaced by sheer embarrassment and adrenaline from yesterday’s events, your ears burning red. “I’m so sorry about yesterday.” you apologise again, bowing for the nth time. “I hope you weren’t hurt anywhere!”
Donghyuck rapidly shakes his head, sticking his hands up in denial. “No! No, I wasn’t hurt. Were you?”
“Oh, no, I wasn’t, thanks to you.” you softly reply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears. “I’d like to make up for my clumsy mistake, if that’s alright. Please, take something from the store for free.”
(Yangyang snatches a bag of shrimp crackers.)
Donghyuck refuses. “No, it’s okay. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.”
(Yangyang slowly returns the bag of shrimp crackers.)
“Are you sure?” you ask, lips pouting.
Donghyuck finds you irresistibly cute. He can’t believe he’s never seen you around before, with your lovely lips and charming eyes. Hell, he’s never written poetry before, but with the way his mind won’t stop illustrating your beauty, he’s bound to replace history’s best poet with ease. Lee Donghyuck is attracted to you. He wants to see you again, and again, and again. The gears in his mind spin as a fantastic idea generates in his head.
“Maybe,” he slowly starts, scanning your face, “if you really want to make up for it, you can give me your name instead.”
(Yangyang suppresses a shriek.)
The red spreads from your ears and neck to your cheeks and Donghyuck thinks you’re a gift sent from God. His parents didn’t get him the PC set he’s been wanting for ages, so as retribution, the heavens sent you right into his arms. Literally.
You tug at your sweater, averting your gaze. “Y/N,” you speak timidly. “My name is Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Donghyuck gently grins, his heart rate accelerating at the progress he’s made. “I’m Donghyuck.”
When you softly smile at him, Donghyuck believes he saved the world in his previous life.
“Maybe,” Yangyang mimics to the boys, “you can make up for it by giving me your name instead.”
The crowd hollers, hounding a proud Donghyuck with pats on his back and slaps to his shoulders.
It’s been four days since Donghyuck got your name, and he’s returned to the convenience store every evening in hopes of seeing you again. Unfortunately for him, your shifts did not align with his visits, and Donghyuck is starting to wonder if he hallucinated the entire encounter. (No, he couldn’t have; not when Yangyang continues to reenact the entire scene during their lunch breaks.) He steels himself with a slap to his left cheek. Today is Saturday, exactly one week since Donghyuck’s breath was taken away. Once again, he’s going to pop by CU around seven in the evening––this time, with Renjun, who he managed to convince as the younger Lee’s attending a student council dinner party. With Renjun shuffling behind, Donghyuck enters CU with high hopes.
The Y/N drought instantly vanishes when he sees your figure at the cashier. You’re scanning a basket of snacks for a group of kids, laughing at their animated antics. Donghyuck is very, very close to becoming addicted to your smile.
“Renjun,” he excitedly taps the older guy, “that’s her.” He points at your figure.
“Oh, I’ve seen her before,” says Renjun, glancing your way. “She seems to be a student at that prestigious all-girls school near ours.”
Ah, the joy Donghyuck drowns in whenever he learns more about you (in, you know, a non-stalkerish way). “Really? How’d you know?”
Renjun browses the instant ramyun packages. “Saw her a few weeks ago with a calculus textbook on the countertop. You know, the ones specifically made by that school?”
Donghyuck does not know because he never really cared about the prestigious all-girls high school before––which was extremely disrespectful on his part for disregarding such a wonderful school with such a beautiful student. He’s jealous of the girls that attend your school, and how they’re most likely graced with your presence every day. Donghyuck would kill to see you every single day.
His hands grab a package of Neoguri ramyun whereas Renjun picks out the classic Shin. The two of them head towards the now-empty cashier, the kids having filed out a few minutes prior.
“Oh, hello.” you grin. “Donghyuck, right?”
He passes you the package and beams. “Yeah! Nice to see you again, Y/N.”
(While Donghyuck is preoccupied with staring at your lovely face, Renjun slips his package onto the counter and you scan it as well. Donghyuck pays for both of the ramyun, but he’s too distracted to realise the extra dollar leaving his wallet.)
“Has it been busy at all?” asks Donghyuck, pulling his card out of the machine. He’s desperately searching for an excuse to linger just a little longer. Renjun finds a sudden interest for the alcoholic drinks located at the opposite side of the store.
You shake your head. “Just a few customers here and there. It’s cold outside, so I guess everyone is staying indoors.”
“Understandable,” the boy hums.
The convenience store falls silent, Renjun attempting to engross himself in the ingredients of soju, Donghyuck digging through his brain for another topic, you looking down at your phone for the time. It’s awkward––so awkward––that Donghyuck thinks you might never want to talk to him again. So, pulling on his big boy pants, he pops the big question. “Do you have a lover?”
Renjun chokes on his spit. Donghyuck bites down on his tongue. Your eyes widen at the unexpected inquiry. “Uh—no,” you sputter, cheeks red. “I don’t have a lover.”
“Then…” He licks his parted lips. “Can I ask you out on a date?”
The convenience store falls silent. Renjun contemplates grabbing his friend and making a run for it. Donghyuck prays to every single deity out there for a positive response. You digest his words, letting each and every syllable sink in.
You nibble on your lower lip. “But…you don’t even know me.”
Donghyuck’s heart falls (so does Renjun’s), but he gathers hope when he catches your curious gaze. “You’re right,” he confidently states, “so I want to get to know you. I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. I think you’re really cute. Like really, really cute. I kinda fell for you when you—you know—fell into my arms. Sorta like love at first sight?” He’s rambling at this point, unveiling how desperate he is to have one chance with you. Love sure does silly things. “I mean, no pressure, though.”
Pink paints your face. You’re about to answer when a voice squeaks from behind. “Dude, move.” Annoyed, Donghyuck turns around with a glare but falters at the sight of four middle school girls. Oh. Donghyuck once lived with a middle school girl, so he knows better than to test their patience. Like a child that’s been disciplined, he obeys, scooting over to let the girls purchase their snacks. A hand grasps his wrist, tugging him away from the counter and towards the exit.
“Hey! Renjun!” hisses Donghyuck, struggling to release himself. “What are you doing?”
Renjun steps into the cold atmosphere. “Saving you from further embarrassment. Seriously, Hyuck, what were you doing? Confessing your undying love for her on the third meeting? You don’t even know her full name!” The Chinese boy abruptly stops and Donghyuck stumbles to a halt. Renjun prods the younger’s chest. “Look, you’re being too rash. She’s clearly on the shy side, so approach her, don’t overwhelm her, okay? Don’t start panicking and blurt out random shit.”
Donghyuck purses his lips. He wants to refute but he can’t; Renjun is right. He hangs his head low, feeling a little (re: really) pathetic at how careless he had been. Impressions are important, and right now, he fears he’s left a terrible one on you.
Renjun, obviously noticing Donghyuck’s sulky mood, adds, “You’ve still got a chance, though! From what I’ve observed, she seems to be interested in you, just extremely timid. I think, if you head back in with your thoughts organised—”
“Donghyuck!”
It takes him a second to register your voice. Donghyuck spins around, shocked to see you jogging towards him, still clad in your CU uniform. And like déjá vu, you slip on the ice, falling into his warm embrace.
(Donghyuck could get used to this.)
“Y/N,” he breathes, getting a whiff of your sweet scent. “Are you okay?”
Like always, your ears are tinted red. “Uh—yes! Yes, thank you.” You balance yourself on the slippery surface. “I just wanted to give you something,” you quietly say, lifting a slip of paper. Your handwriting is scrawled on it, which Donghyuck finds effortlessly cute. “It’s my number. For, uh, you know, the date.” Your voice grows smaller at the last sentence, awkwardly avoiding his eyes.
If Donghyuck is a dynamite, you are his lighter.
“The—date?” he stammers, unable to believe his ears. “You’re—You—Yes to the date?”
You gently laugh. “Yes to the date.”
Donghyuck is on—no, above cloud nine. He plucks the piece of paper from your hands, grasping it as if it’d fly away. He cocks an eyebrow and tosses you a smirk. “I’ll text you later, princess.”
You avoid his eyes but a grin tugs at your lips. “I’ll be waiting.” With that, you give him a small wave and retreat back to the convenience store. Donghyuck watches you disappear, his heart rate breaking records.
Renjun has one hell of a story to tell the others the next time the boys get together.
Sunday morning, Donghyuck lays in bed as he stares at your contact in his phone. It’s been a little over twelve hours since you gave him your number, and because he’s a nervous wreck, he has yet to text you about the date.
He ponders what sort of date would be the best. A picnic date? No, it’s too cold. A museum date? No, Donghyuck isn’t really into museums. An arcade date? No, he isn’t willing to unleash his no-showering-only-gaming side to you (yet).
A movie date seems to be the most ideal first date, from both an objective and subjective perspective. He opens Naver, curious about the current selection of movies in theatres. Donghyuck scrolls through the list, spotting several movies he’s seen advertisements for. A particular one catches his eye—Candy, a romance-comedy movie featuring four high school boys and their entertaining love lives. He clicks on the description, intrigued by the premise. (Don’t let anyone know, but Donghyuck is a diehard romance fan.) A small smile settles on his lips.
Donghyuck, with a vague itinerary in mind, sends you a message.
donghyuck: hi y/n, it’s donghyuck :)
You respond almost immediately.
you: donghyuck!! hi ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
He might overdose on your cuteness.
donghyuck: so i was thinking of our date
donghyuck: and i was wondering if ur up for a movie at the nearby lotte mall??
you: i’d love to watch a movie! which one ?
donghyuck: how does candy sound?
you: i’ve been wanting to watch that one for soo long!!
Donghyuck proudly grins.
donghyuck: i know it’s a little sudden, but is today at 3pm ok?? i’ll buy the tickets and everything, so just bring yourself
you: you don’t have to! i can buy the snacks
donghyuck: maybe you can pay next time ^^
Smooth, he thinks to himself.
you: if u say so haha
you: i’ll see you at three!!
Oh, Donghyuck beams, roses blooming on his cheeks. I definitely saved the world in my previous life.
Today’s look consists of a striped crewneck tucked into wide-legged slacks and a pair of black Converses. Donghyuck’s hair is neatly combed, his bangs parted to reveal a portion of his forehead. The outfit is topped off with a puffer jacket and a spritz of his father’s Dior perfume. Normally, Donghyuck would just wear a leather jacket in an all-black fashion. But Renjun, ever the style guru, emphasised the importance of looking nice on the first date.
(Frankly, Renjun just wanted to play stylist so Donghyuck became his K-Pop idol to dress.)
Donghyuck received a fair amount of compliments at church earlier this morning, many of his peers applauding the new look. He clearly remembers how impressed Uchinaga Aeri was, nearly shedding a tear at his lack of skinny jeans.
(Sorry, Aeri, but Donghyuck still likes his skinny jeans and he won’t change his opinions for anyone. Not even you.)
(…Okay, maybe for you.)
(Can you tell he’s hopelessly in love?)
Despite the below zero weather, Donghyuck’s hands are sweaty and his nape is hot. It’s ten before three p.m., and he’s standing outside of the cinema, waiting for your familiar figure. With every minute that ticks by, his heartbeat jumps faster and faster. He recalls Renjun’s words. Approach her, don’t overwhelm her.
Donghyuck, to put it simply, is terrible with his crushes. He’s always had the tendency of getting ahead of himself, ultimately scaring away the girls he’d been interested in. He never means to overwhelm them, but when his own feelings are swallowing him whole, he can’t help but express his love through words and actions all at once. Donghyuck hopes you’re different; he hopes you won’t be chased away by the flood he may be.
Three on the dot, you’re walking towards him with a bashful smile.
“Hi, Y/N,” he gleams, absolutely elated. “You look really pretty today.”
Your smile may be shadowed by your timidity but it still outshines the sun. “Thank you, Donghyuck. You look good as well.”
He giggles. Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks, Y/N.” Then, “I’ve bought the tickets and everything, we just need to grab some snacks. What’s your favourite popcorn?”
“Mm,” you hum, scanning the options. “I’m fine with anything.”
Right. Donghyuck forgot about your introverted tendencies. You’re on the shy side like Renjun had said, so he’s got to be the assertive one without, well, overwhelming you. The boy clears his throat. “How about caramel?”
You nod. “Sounds great.”
Fifteen minutes later, Donghyuck and you are seated side-by-side in the theatre, positioned near the centre of the large room. To his left are couples. To his right are couples. Behind and front? Also couples. Donghyuck catches a pair sharing a kiss and awkwardly looks away.
He would like to kiss you right now.
Stupid Donghyuck. Baby steps, baby steps.
He would still like to kiss you right now.
Donghyuck lightly slaps his cheek. He’s here to woo you, not scare you away. His priority is to have you reciprocate his overflowing feelings with the same volume of love and then getting a kiss.
The lights dim as the opening advertisements come to an end. You excitedly whisper, “The movie’s starting!” Donghyuck glances over at you, his heart stopping at how breathtaking you are. Not even the theatre could overshadow your beauty.
The opening scene of Candy begins and he reluctantly averts his gaze back to the large screen. Your presence is difficult to ignore, but Donghyuck is not about to get caught staring like a creep. He chews on a handful of popcorn in an attempt to drown in the movie.
Two hours later, Donghyuck is waiting in front of the restrooms, holding your bag in his hands. If anyone were to come up to him and demand an explanation for the plot of Candy from start to finish, he would simply laugh and redirect them to Namuwiki. Donghyuck doesn’t remember a single thing about the rom-com—save for the character ‘Haechan’—because he’d been too busy sneaking glimpses of your side profile. He might as well live on a ventilator from how often he loses his breath around you.
You walk out with your hands damp, shaking them to rid the residual water. The two of you walk towards the exit and Donghyuck continues to hold your bag. He asks, “How was the movie?”
Your eyes glimmer. “It was amazing,” you sigh, dreamy. “I loved the different dynamics between the four couples and Haechan—he reminded me so much of you!” You glance at him and beam, “Haechan was…my favourite character throughout the entire film.”
Oh. Donghyuck gulps. He’ll need to rewatch the movie.
The time reads five twenty-two p.m., and Donghyuck’s stomach resonates with hunger. He purses his lips, browsing through his memories for a decent yet inexpensive restaurant nearby. You must’ve noticed his dilemma as you say, “Why don’t we grab ramyun at the convenience store?” You elaborate, “I forgot my calculus textbook there. Also, we’d get free food.”
Free food? No sane person would ever pass up the opportunity to eat free food.
And so, around six in the evening, Donghyuck is sitting at the local CU with a cup of Neoguri ramyun steaming in front of him. You’ve disappeared, presumably grabbing your calculus textbook and greeting the employee of the hour. His stomach continues to perform all sorts of acrobatics, his nerves gnawing at his heart. Donghyuck has never experienced so many different emotions all at once; it’s like a tsunami has erupted within him.
“Sorry for taking so long.” You appear with a thick textbook in your arms. With a flustered tone, you say, “My manager—she wouldn’t stop asking about you.”
Donghyuck doesn’t hide his cheeky smile. “Really? What did she ask?”
Your eyelashes flutter. “If—you know—if you’re my boyfriend.” You whisper the last part, barely audible enough for Donghyuck to catch. Somehow, the corners of his lips lift even more, a pair of rose-tinted glasses perched on his nose. The way you’re shyly moving about, stirring your cup ramyun, cheeks hot with rouge. Donghyuck thinks that, if a meteor were to hit the earth at this moment, he would be content living the last seconds of his life with you by his side. (Sorry to Lee Donghyuck’s family and friends, but he’s got priorities!) He’s so, so infatuated, so head-over-heels in love with a girl he’s known for less than a month. There’s a plethora of things he doesn’t know about you, but he’s willing to learn every little detail of your life. Donghyuck wants to stay in your world for as long as time permits.
You tap his shoulder. “Donghyuck? Are you okay?” Your cup ramyun is now empty of noodles, only a small amount of soup left. “You spaced out.”
The boy blinks. “Did I?” He ruffles his bangs, accidentally ruining his neatly-combed hair. “Sorry, Y/N. I was thinking about how I’d be happy even if the world ended right now because I’m with you.” He blinks again. He abruptly stands up, neck flushed red as he grabs the garbage strewn before him. “Sorry! Ignore what I just said.” Donghyuck nervously avoids your gaze, scurrying over to the ramyun disposal to throw out the soup and recycle the cups. When he returns to where you’re seated, he fidgets with his fingers, unable to look you straight in the eyes. “It’s, uh, getting late now. I’ll walk you home, if that’s okay?”
Donghyuck misses the way you softly grin. “Sure. Thank you.”
The sun has already set, a dark navy coating the night sky. Several stars pierce through the atmosphere and Donghyuck can vaguely make out the Big Dipper. His gaze naturally shifts to you who’s brighter than the stars. Even under the faded moonlight, he can clearly see the outline of your pretty features.
Donghyuck has no clue where he’s going. He’s blindly following you, walking this cold path with you until your apartment comes into view. You haven’t said anything, which he finds a little nerve-wracking. Donghyuck, being the Donghyuck he is, decides to blurt out, “I’m sorry.”
You continue to walk but confusion taints your face. You tilt your head, lower lip jutted out. “For what? I really enjoyed today, even if it was impromptu.”
He shakes his head. “Not because of the sudden date. Well, I mean, I guess a little, but not really. I’m just…” he inhales sharply, “really sorry about before. How I approached you and overwhelmed you every single time. I didn’t mean to—you know—impose myself on you—”
“You didn’t!” you exclaim, breaking his ramble. In a dulcet tone, you continue, “You never overwhelmed me. I was just surprised to know that a guy was genuinely interested in me, so I wasn’t really sure how to react.” You cross a parking lot. Donghyuck follows. “I’m also terrible with human interactions but you…with you, I feel so comfortable. Don’t ask me why. I have no scientific evidence for that. But just…” You glance at him and he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your face. “I want to get to know you better.”
Donghyuck is glad you’re on the same page. “Me too,” he whispers, elated. “Every time I’m with you, I feel like my heart’s going to explode. In a good way, of course. I really, really like being around you.” I fell in love at first sight.
You stop in front of Building 301 and turn to face him. “Thank you for today, Donghyuck.” you say, voice tender. “I truly enjoyed it.”
His breath catches in his throat. “Me too.”
Something in you must’ve snapped as you bravely lean forwards to press a sweet kiss on his cheek. As you retreat to your spot a few inches away from him, Donghyuck’s jaw slacks in shock. You giggle at his lovestruck expression.
“Good night, Donghyuck.”
It takes everything within him to not squeal.
“Good night, Y/N.”
He watches your figure slip into the apartment building, giving a small wave before disappearing behind the elevator doors. Donghyuck stands rooted to his spot, hand cupping his kissed cheek while his heart runs wild.
You kissed his cheek.
You kissed his cheek.
Donghyuck didn’t believe in love at first sight. It was a stupid conception, because how was someone supposed to develop feelings for a person they had no knowledge about? Donghyuck didn’t understand, and frankly, he still doesn’t. He’s not sure as to why he fell in love with you at a single glance during a chance encounter. But one thing he is sure about?
Lee Donghyuck is confident that you’ll take his breath away every single time until he’s left unable to breathe without your presence.
you: donghyuck!!
Donghyuck pulls out his phone at the notification, a smile immediately spreading at the sender’s name.
you: go home alr! it’s cold outside, i don’t want you to freeze :(
donghyuck: how did you know i’m still out here?
you: i can see you from the sixteenth floor
Donghyuck looks up. The sixteenth floor is far up, but when he squints, he can see your hand shooing him away.
donghyuck: that’s not nice, telling your date to go away
you: if u get sick rn, you can’t be my date anymore so go home and take a long hot shower!!
Donghyuck chuckles.
donghyuck: so, more dates?
You leave him on read for one minute.
you: only if you go home rn and warm up
Donghyuck has never looked forward to living as much as now.
donghyuck: noted. good night, y/n :))
you: good night, donghyuck <3
Donghyuck believes in love at first sight and you are his proof.
bonus: the aftermath.
Approximately one hundred days have passed since you and Donghyuck decided to start dating, and instead of spending the special day outside, you’re snuggled up against your boyfriend at his place, watching Hunter × Hunter on TV. Neither of his parents are home and his younger sister kindly offered to hangout with their neighbour next door. It’s quiet, save for the anime and Donghyuck’s rhythmic breathing.
You lay your head flat against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Donghyuck strokes your head but his eyes don’t stray from the screen.
Frankly, you’re a little jealous.
“Hyuck,” you whine, poking his nose. He looks down at you with a puzzled face. “Give me a kiss.”
Your boyfriend laughs. “Needy, huh?”
You huff. “I want attention, so give me a kiss.”
Donghyuck chuckles, but he complies nonetheless, adjusting his position so his lips can graze yours. You hum into the kiss, your thumb drawing circles on his cheek.
It’s amazing how easily he takes your breath away.
© NABI (2023); ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
taglist | @matchahyuck @lovehowdream @niinjo @jeonnyread @pckeia @dandelionxgal @huangstape @lemarkjun @mosviqu @neosdaisy @hayven-cov @toothfa-1-ry
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Holding pt 2
(Here for pt 1)
Matt Murdock x reader (angst)
Note: I never expected to do a part 2 for this, but I got inspired re-watching the third season. I hope you guys enjoy it ❤️. Also, a bit of a trigger warning for the mention of the death of a pet.
Summary: What if Matt came back after all that happened, what if things could change.
♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡◇♡
"It was a building, an old abandoned storage. It was a horrible incident indeed. Authorities have yet declared the reasons for its collapse, but apparently, some criminal group is-"
Will the tv anchors let go of that new? It's been more than a month
I sigh as I start to bite the head of the pen in my hand, turning the tv off. I look now directly at the blank screen, only being able to see my own reflection. I look exhausted.
I am exhausted.
It's been weeks since Matt Murdock has been declared dead, more than weeks since I've myself collapsed into some sort of numbness.
It was almost months since I last saw him, yet..
You could've prevented this
I shake my head, trying to get the thought out.
The darkness in the room seems almost too engulfing now. My four walls feeling closer and closer now. I close my eyes
You can not take responsibility for everybody..
I remember my mom telling me this the day my first pet died. It was an accident, the poor bird escaping his cage and getting electrocuted by some some disjointed wires from the utility pole.
Not everything is under your control
I remember his little body dead on the asphalt eyes wide open, looking like he could wake up at any time and take his flight..
Suddenly the noise of the keys opening my door make me stand up. I quickly go grab the old baseball bat hidden under the couch and I go stand besides de doorframe.
Breath
When the person enters I immediately go for a hit, only to be surprised as what appears to be a man easily stops it mid-air making me loose my balance and stumble.
"What th-"
Suddenly he grabs me by my waist preventing me from falling on the floor. Its so dark I can barely perceive his face, yet his voice makes my heart suddenly drop.
"Please..this time I can explain (y/n)"
I immediately pull away from his arms as I go quickly grab my bat again and turn on the lights. I feel my hands weaken their grip as I now recognize the man in front of me. It was Matt. it was actually Matt.
Its you
But I keep my defensive position. Its impossible. This cannot be.
"Who the f- are you". I spat, trying not to let my vulnerability take over.
The supposed Matt stays in place, as I can see him twitching a small smile. He retakes his serious tone
"I know.. I know how this must appear from your side but you must believe me.."
I look at his eyes. Those puppy eyes he used to make when I caught him in trouble. For such a strong man he could be quite sensitive indeed. But I cannot forget neither.
"Even if..if this was true..how..how do you want me to trust you..after all that happened"
He looks down, shame now filling his face. He must have remembered the last time we saw each other. Not the best goodbye indeed. He bites his lip
"I know..I.. I didn't come for forgiveness just..I thought...", He turns his head around, probably scanning the room, "That you deserved to know the truth before you heard it from someone else.."
In the depths of myself, I know all I wish to do is to jump to his arms. It was him. He was alive.
"What exactly happened?"
My voice wasn't as cold as before but I still hold an strict tone, wanting to keep my distance.
He nods his head as he takes a long breath.
"You really want to hear the whole story ?"
"Ive got all night"
So thats how for the next hour he tells me what he seems to know about this Hand. The war. Stick and even the two deaths of his ex. It was a lot I admit, but I still listened with attention to each of his words. We both end up sitting face to face on the floor
"So that's how I ended up here", he finally says raising his shoulders.
I could notice something in his tone. Something more lonely that what used to be in there before. Something more bitter too, but I decide not to comment on that.
"So neither Karen or even Foggy know that you're alive and well ?"
He groans a bit. Probably a touchy subject.
"I'd rather leave it like that... they're safer that way"
I sigh. Some things never truly change
"Then why are you here Matt?"
"I told you.. I-"
"Bullshit"
My raise in tone paralyzes the conversation for a moment. Matt seems surprised and stays silent waiting for me to continue
"Sorry..just", I try my best to hold my emotions, "Last time you were in here..you..you left me Matt..you left me..."
"(Y/n).. sweetheart..I'm"
"Don't you dare call me sweetheart Matthew.." Im now standing up giving my most glaring stare at the man in front of me. "Don't you dare use that word"
Not everything is under my control
"I.." , I look at him again, " I had to mourn you twice..twice.."
Now tears are falling from my eyes. I know he can sense them but I don't want him to comfort me. I have to be strong
"I loved you with all my heart"
These last words are merely a mumble.
The noise of the outside is louder, the cars, the streets, the people. The city being so alive. All of what Matt can hear and perceive, his life. His real life. Not here with me, but outside.
He seems unsure what to say next.
"I never wanted to lose you", I've never heard his voice being this fragile "I just wanted to protect you from all the danger I brought upon you.. I don't want to make excuses just.. I got lost in the way"
He tries to come closer to me, putting his hand on my cheek cleaning my tear
"I'll try to make it up... even if it takes me a whole eternity to do so"
I look at him. Will I be able to ever forgive it all ?
I softly take his hand from my face. Holding it with such strength, like if he was about to vanish again. We stay in this silence for a while. It was a lot of feelings for just one night.
But time is still moving as I look at my kitchen's clock.
"Its getting late, I'd guess you have to go"
He nods letting a sad smile slip.
"Yes I guess so"..
He walks to the door, putting his dark glasses and cap on. He gives me a long stare before going. I wonder what he may be thinking
"Goodbye (y/n)"
"Goodbye Matt"
I see him disappear down the hall.
As I get back in, I think again of my souvenir of the poor bird laying on the ground. Maybe I couldn't bring him back to life, but what if he was given a second chance.
I stare at the door.
Maybe things could have ended differently in that case.
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