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sanzu-sanzu-sanzu · 2 years

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songs about toxic people 12

Sanzu Haruchiyo X Reader

Summary: In which you are Bonten’s No. 2 and Sanzu is No. 3. Almost ten years of being stuck working together means you’re both bound to pick up on each other’s idiosyncrasies, yeah?

MASTERLIST

chapter 12: Bonten lost files

or The stuff they don’t tell you about Japan’s most wanted criminals

#000995

The banker had called you pretty under your cold, hard gaze. Your mouth, precisely, or was it your eyes? Pretty but not in the same tune as how the hard-knuckled weapons dealer had uttered when he kissed your fingertips in his faux gentlemanly manner of greeting, just mere days ago, in another city and for another job that did not require the spilling of too much blood, although it still pissed you off all the same. You think the exact words went something like:

I will hit you back tenfold, you cold-blooded bitch. I will make you beg and kiss the fucking floor on where I stand with your pretty mouth. I will make your eyes bleed—

Which sounded a lot less menacing coming from someone whose hands were bound behind his back, and you did give yourself time to wonder: how exactly was he going to get out of this one? It was at this point though that Sanzu had planted a bullet on the man’s right foot with no warning, the flick of his wrist quicker than your eyes could follow. There was no ecstatic movement of his arms, nor a readable expression on his face, only a literal smoking gun in his hand being the only incriminating evidence that proved it happened.

He was noisy, went his dangerously low, and by now exhausted response at your silent inquiry. So now you made him noisier, you said, even though your words were most likely engulfed by the man’s atrocious screaming. Although there was no need for you to voice out any command, as Sanzu sank another bullet and this time right into the man’s brains to quiet him forever. You’d think he had personal vendetta against the guy for choosing to make him suffer for a mere ten seconds more, but then Sanzu always attacked anyone like he had personal grudge against them, to be fair.

You blink from the sudden headlights of another vehicle that violated your eyesight, effectively bringing you out of your thoughts, and as you turn your head away from the window, you catch Sanzu staring at you with a weird look on his face. Before you can even ask, he takes the tissue box from the side of the seats and hands it to you. It’s only now you feel the sting of the cut on your lower lip.

“A shame he bruised my pretty mouth,” you crack, wincing at the feel of paper against your skin. He merely stares back at you, his frown deepening, the side of his mouth twitching in what you anticipate is going to be an oncoming lecture.

Except there is none. “What?” you sigh.

Sanzu only rolls his eyes at the sarcasm in your tone and you smirk. “Hey, if you disagree that my mouth is pretty, you don’t have to tell me.”

You blame the drug and your woozy head for your now-running mouth, and you don’t know what Sanzu’s excuse is for refusing to take the bait for potential banter, instead opting to hit back with a deadpan:

“I didn’t say that.”

You think of responding but also maybe you’ve annoyed Sanzu enough even before tonight, ever since the moment you’d agreed on this entrapment operation, so you decide to keep your mouth shut. Silence envelopes the car once again, until a little while later when you feel something cold touch your cheek. Beside you, Sanzu has reached out an arm to press a makeshift ice pack against your face, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. There’s still that annoyed look in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher. Maybe, you like to think, maybe he met a match amongst the guards on his way to you that he didn’t like? Though, try as you might, you can’t imagine Sanzu complaining about an all-out fight.

“Thank you,” you hear yourself say as you take the ice pack, half-hoping he hears, half-hoping he doesn’t. For the ice pack, for arriving on time, you don’t specify anymore, but you know he understands.

#002567

It’s been a peaceful morning so far, save for the occasional rustling of papers and Sanzu’s loud berating of the stubborn coffee-maker that, unlike most humans he’s dealt with, seems far too impossible to bend to his will. This time, you see him standing in front of the unassuming machine like it owes him money, and as you walk past the scene and hear a light crackle of electricity and another ‘What the Fuck!,’ you do wonder if electrocution via domestic appliance is what’s finally going to bring the living, walking menace that is Sanzu Haruchiyo down. Koko seems just about ready to give up trying to focus and leave for his office instead when you manage to catch him at his end of the table, halting his escape just in time.

He tips the lid of his laptop closed, though, and you take your seat in front of him as you hand him some documents. “Check if these numbers work, please? It has everything Kaku’s gonna need for tomorrow’s operation,” you say.

You catch the way Koko’s gaze lingers for half-a-second, and no more, on your still-stinging neck, as well as the delicate arching of his brow that follows. For once, you’re thankful, because even though he’s not above teasing comments that make you fluster—and it’s not like you’ve got anything to hide because they are your cat’s—this time, he decides to keep his mouth shut for some reason. The clenching of his jaw, however, is enough proof of his attempt at keeping himself from blurting out something stupid, or perhaps in anticipation of an even bigger, more appropriate reaction. Which is inevitable considering the other hawk-eyed occupant in the room—

“WHOAH! Rough night, huh?” you jump as Ran’s face pops beside your head, snooping from right behind you and shamelessly inspecting the still-bright red paw scratches that bloom across your throat with wide, curious eyes. There’s a sly smirk smacked right on his lips that makes your eye tick. “I knew you were the play hard type!” he proclaims, still in that deafening volume.

You groan loudly, ignoring the way the back of your neck burns, feeling more annoyed than embarrassed. At the same instant, you hear the loud crashing of machinery from the coffee area which makes Ran grin even wider, for some reason, totally forgetting the fact that you will all be coffee-less—and, subsequently, a tad more irritable than the usual—in the coming hours until one of you gets fed up and decides to get a replacement.

(Rest in tiny pieces, coffee-maker.)

“It’s my new cat, alright? He gets really aggressive around me.” You say through gritted teeth, your voice rising just a little above your normally composed tone that they’re more used to hearing everyday.

Ran laughs, holding his belly. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.” And oh, how you hate the amusement in his eyes. “I was going to ask about exactly that, your new baby you mentioned the other day.”

In front of you, Koko finally cracks a grin, much wider than your threatening aura should’ve allowed, as he lowers the folder you just handed him to afford you his genuine, probing look, his head slightly tilted to the side.

“No need to be defensive about it.” All heads turn to the familiar sound of Manjiro’s monotone drifting through the door, his eyes busily scanning the nutritional label of some snack in his hand for some unknown reason. “It wouldn’t have been a problem, either way,” he says as he leans on the pantry door—likely waiting for Sanzu to finish cleaning up whatever ruckus he’s put together in there—without sparing you a glance.

You roll your eyes at him, too. “God,” you mutter, impatiently gesturing for Koko to get on with whatever business you came to him to.

#001996

Manjiro had assured the owner at the door there wouldn’t be any casualties while you’re here, but, nevertheless, the other paying customers still rushed out of the bar as soon as your small band of public offenders had made it clear that you were all staying. Not that the owner would’ve had the guts to actually raise his appeal anyway. Still, Manjiro had made a point of having Koko pay for the now-empty seats.

And if there’s even going to be a body tonight, it’s bound to be that of a Bonten executive, you’re certain now, because Ran is absolutely having none of Sanzu’s blatant swindling at the moment.

“I just think it’s unfair that a third of what we got were all Sanzu’s and yet we’re still evenly splitting the bill? Why the hell can’t we go dutch?” He tuts impatiently as he scratches the side of his jaw, his face suddenly coming to a semblance of sobriety.

It’s 3AM in this cramped, low-brow bar in some obscure part of the city—a change in scenery, Ran had declared—and in true low-brow fashion, everyone is fighting for their money. In this witching hour the whole neighborhood sleeps, and yet the whole place is alive and booming brightly for you and your inebriated company, and you don’t think anyone will be stopping anybody anytime soon. Not that there’s anyone else still left standing.

You jolt awake when Sanzu slams both palms on the table. “Last I checked, everyone including you agreed to everything I got. Now quit being stingy, you fucker. You even stole some of my oysters!”

“Weren’t those for fucking sharing?”

“They were fucking not.”

In front of you are two grown men with more money than they could ever account for, arguing over the bill and looking this close to drawing their guns out. Your hold on sobriety is far too slippery at the moment to ponder on the injustice in Sanzu’s words, but you know that whatever the man is saying is not making much sense. You figure Ran is just as lost, too, as he actually pauses and makes a face like he’s been hit with the world’s toughest Math problem and absolutely nobody’s got any time for college algebra. Whatever, though, because now he’s standing again for a retrial of his case and this time, involving the jugs of orange juice—“I mean who the fuck wanted orange juice? Because that shit’s gonna get ya hammered, sure!”—completely forgetting the fact that all of that was Manjiro’s. You suddenly giggle at the idea of Ran pulling on Sanzu’s hair and your head gets so heavy you end up slumping on Koko’s shoulder, who himself seemed too far out of it judging by the wasted smile on his face. You try pointing a limp finger at his smug, too-drunk countenance. “If anybody’s stingy here, it’s definitely this guy.” There’s an attempt at swatting your hand away but instead his palm ends up covering half of your face.

Even with your voice half-raised, nobody hears. Not Rindou who, by now, has also stood up—only to be hit in the face by Ran’s wildly gesturing arm. Needless to say, the younger brother is going to wake up in the morning with a Ran-sized palm print on one cheek.

It seems like everyone is going to wake up with someone’s palm print on their cheek.

“Is it time, Boss?” Koko croons over your head.

“No, leave them be.” Manjiro, the only person who’s left not swaying, the only one who’s ever held on longer than you can on your liquor—you concede this round—is grinning as he looks on his executives. You don’t say a word as you watch him absent-mindedly pop another fortune cookie into his mouth, still with the paper inside, subsequently sending him into a coughing fit.

Maybe the guy’s not as sober as he’s letting on, after all.

#084972

They rarely ever see you with your cats because you only let them stay at home—and you weren’t lying when you said you got a new one that’s just as aggressive and playful as you’d described—which is probably all well and good since the whiplash is bound to break their necks every time. After all, it’s almost disorienting seeing you being all affectionate and tender to your just as besotted pair of felines, mumbling sweet commands to nibble on your fingers or bump your nose—has anyone ever seen you bump noses with anybody?—as if you weren’t just giving out clear instructions on burying someone in the pits not a mere minute before. Good thing Sanzu is always there to smear on your serenity and ground things back to reality. Free entertainment, Koko had called it.

The afternoon could not have been any more pleasant, a direct contrast to your meeting’s elaborate schemings and agenda. Tonight, a Bonten warehouse housing hundreds of millions of yen’s worth of goods is supposed to be raided, based on corroborated intel; hence, the emergency meeting currently taking place at your own, cozy home, because next to the Shrine it’s apparently the most secret and least traceable accessible place somehow. (Which seems hard to believe, but then here you are.) Although Takeomi and his little brother Haruchiyo have already devised a plan of action—a truly, remarkable feat, this collaboration—Manjiro still insisted everyone be brought up to speed with the procedure just for good measure. Which is fair, even though a part of you suspects he really just wanted to hang out and relax in your airy living room.

At the moment, he is sprawled peacefully—much like a cat—on your cool granite floor with his arms folded under his head and a toss pillow for support, most likely listening to Kakucho explaining in front of him, sure, but with his eyes closed you can only hold on to faith.

There’s a break in the conversation and everyone decides to take five, temporarily breaking out of your loose circle. Ran has gone to smoke by your window while Mochi goes to feed the fishes in your aquarium again. Kaku is now crouching right by Manjiro’s head to hear the man’s words better while Takeomi and Koko continue to discuss something regarding the plans. You don’t see Sanzu right away but now he’s walking out of the kitchen, his eyes busily scanning his phone. You automatically extend your legs over the big couch you occupy to take up all the space, waiting for your cats to join you.

Sanzu doesn’t seem to see. Nor would’ve cared. The jerk doesn’t even look up as he props himself on the other end of the couch, crushing your legs behind him.

“Hey. There’s plenty of space over there.” You motion to the other sofa across you where Rindou is currently fixated on a lifestyle magazine—and, not for the first time today, you swear these guys only easily hopped along Manjiro’s lazy idea just so they could spend this hot, summer day anywhere else other than their own, smokey, hard-edged living spaces—himself seemingly unbothered and unwilling to quit his man-spreading over your spacious couch.

The temptation to whack the guy on the head hard with a throw pillow is very strong.

Sanzu humors you by sparing a glance at Rindou’s direction, and then back at you, his expression unreadable. “Doesn’t seem enough space to me.”

You give him a hard, dangerous look. “Well, that spot is for my cats,” in the same, grave seriousness as when you’re delivering the news of a compromised cargo. Meaning, you won’t hesitate to spill blood.

He now fully turns his head at you and smiles, just as sweetly as if he’d swiped an icing off of your perfectly made cake and you’re reprimanding him. “Your cats can sit on my lap, then,” he says, leaning all the way back on the seat and crushing your legs even further. There is no way in hell you’re going to budge.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my cats don’t like other people.” That subtle possessiveness over your cats is also something they’ve never seen before, and your tone makes even Sanzu pause and his eyes gleam. Kakucho somehow glances at your direction and you throw a sad expression his way upon noticing. “Not even Mr. Kaku with Kakucho-san—I’m sorry, Kaku,“ to which the eponymous Kakucho only answers back with a blank expression.

Sanzu’s little merry laughter grate your nerves, just as much as the cocky smile now adorning his face. “Oh, but you haven’t seen me with Mr. Kaku yet, huh?”

You stick your nose up as you maintain eye contact with him. “Then we shall see.”

As if on cue, Mr. Kaku saunters into your living room space, pausing briefly at the threshold where checkered tiles and granite flooring meet, as if quietly assessing how to navigate around all these…legs from out of nowhere. “Come here, my love.” You call out with one arm outstretched, your upper body leaning sideways almost to the floor, ready to scoop up the love of your life. Upon seeing your face, Mr. Kaku’s little feet pitter-patter across the floor, expertly avoiding the standing figures of Mochi and Koko, hopping over Manjiro’s belly…and then slowing down right at Sanzu’s feet. Against your expectations—and better wishes—he slinks his smooth body around Sanzu’s ankles, rubs his head on his bare heel and purrs. A purr you know so well.

A hand comes up to your mouth to hide your gasp of shock. From somewhere, someone snickers. Sanzu’s upper body slowly rocks from his suppressed cackling.

“Kaku, my man, my sweet boy, come’ere,” goes his sickly sweet command as he effortlessly picks your cat up to place on his lap. The cat stretches languidly atop his thighs—Koko’s Bonten pendant catching light in the process—and then, as if not yet content, crawls up Sanzu’s stomach to peck him on the side of his mouth.

You stare at the scene, horrified. “Kaku. Scratch his face. Scratch.”

“Teaching your cat violence? Such an evil cat-mom, you are.” With enough force of will, you manage to pull one leg out from behind him so you can kick a foot on his side, making him only laugh a little more heartily. With Mr. Kaku now having slinked right into your arms, you clutch your cat closer to your chest as if Sanzu’s about to take him away. Sanzu’s face settles on a victorious grin as he wordlessly joins both of your ankles in one hand, before shifting them towards you so now your legs are bent to allot enough space just for him.

On the couch opposite, Rindou has gone back to sinking behind his glossy spreads, shaking his head. Looks like Sanzu’s out to steal your cats, too.

#003647

The banker’s wife, now widow, stands atop the staircase landing, her eyes brimming red with tears and suppressed rage. Under the eyes of a wounded woman, you feel bare-naked and defenseless, as if she’s the one with the hidden knife and she knows just how to twist it.

From somewhere on your right, you hear the familiar release of Sanzu’s safety. You don’t think it’s safe enough to move a muscle in your body, so, instead, you let the stillness of the air carry your words.

“Sanzu, don’t.”

You hear him groan impatiently, but his voice comes out low and restrained. “We can end it here. Now.”

“They’ll know it’s us. If she dies here, all hell’ll break loose, you know it.” You’re right and he knows just as much as you do that nobody wants an all-out war. Sanzu doesn’t respond because he knows he doesn’t have to.

The scorned woman blinks once, but her rage doesn’t waver. When her lips part, your body instinctively steels itself for fire.

“You won’t die, no, I can’t let that happen. Death would be too kind for someone like you. But I…” she breathes, “I will hit you where it hurts.” Her eyes leave yours to flicker to Sanzu on the second-floor balcony—now you know—his gun once again cocked ready to fire. She looks at him for an agonizing stretch of ten seconds or sixty, and you only realize you’ve been holding your breath once she releases her gaze to fling it back to you.

“You will know what I mean when it happens, young lady. You will know. And you will feel so empty you won’t even have any tears to shed.

And then she’s gone, you let her leave, before you can even let her words settle on your bones.

#000027

Sanzu does not actually think you meant to call him ‘pretty,’ but he’s already had far too many shots to be thinking straight, and so he brings up that one time he thinks you did as he protests your answer—Ran, when asked who’s the ‘most handsome’ among your fellow executives?—as if to say, hey, remember this one time?

You’re probably not as sober yourself, he thinks, because you accept his version of the story right away and shrug. “Well, sure, Ran I think is handsome, but I think you’re pretty, too. They’re different, Sanzu. And what does it matter—?” He has no answer because although he’s been called pretty by more people than he could ever count in his life, he realizes he’s never actually cared as much as he does now.

Now that he thinks about it, it went a little something like this:

It was during a party to secure partnerships and there was that crime boss with the sharp canines who’d been eyeing you like a hawk, and Sanzu thought you looked great in your sheer floral-patterned dress and your hair flown loose that it was hard to blame the man’s flirtatious wink that accompanied his kissing of your hand. When he turned to Sanzu to shake his, he held on for a really long time, giving him that sickly candied smile that had Sanzu thinking, What. A fucker. We got business to attend to, old man, so move.

“I was told that Bonten had the deadliest and most merciless criminals in all of Japan. I didn’t know they got the prettiest face, too.”

Sanzu fixed him with a cold smile. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

The man’s leer broadened, at the same time he heard you cough softly into your hand. To his surprise—though, maybe also not really—the man bent over to whisper into his ear: “Married? Attached? Committed?” were all he said, and Sanzu resisted the urge to groan out loud, instead leveling him with a look.

Why couldn’t he just ask you himself like a normal person?

“Not at the moment, no.” His cheeks were starting to ache. “Aren’t you lucky?”

At this, the man had burst out laughing, the hearty, roaring kind that made Sanzu forget they were still holding hands. He felt your hand curl around his arm.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” you murmured, bringing him along.

As the two of you walked away, you loosened your hold and Sanzu finally expressed his annoyance. He bent his head low enough to make sure only you could hear him: “God, what a creep. You gotta stay away from that guy.” When you tilted your head to look up at him he felt your hair brush his lips. You looked doubtful.

“I don’t think he wants to have anything to do with me.”

He squinted at your obliviousness. “He literally just called you pretty in front of us.”

To which you responded with a coy, helpless grin, as you re-attached your hand to his arm. “Sanzu, I think he meant you. Though, it’s funny you automatically thought he meant me.”

#004782

“What a fucking pussy.” The words fly out of Mochi’s mouth faster than he realizes, prompting a few heads to glance his way.

Seated beside him, you don’t visibly react because it’s not as if you deem this unusual considering your line of work and the manner of most men you interact with on a daily basis, and you’re aware that Mochizuke is acting on pure emotions at the moment. Still, the ingrained bias in these phrases still makes you bristle every time.

Mochi clears his throat, suddenly looking somewhat sheepish. “Sorry, sorry, excuse me.” There was never a spoken rule or any of that sort and yet, he glances at you quickly and speaks in a low voice. “That just came out.”

You respond with a smile without saying anything, letting it slip because these are things you can’t fix yourself but you appreciate the gesture anyway. And yet, he continues:

“I mean, I like pussies.” It takes you a record-setting kind of quick-lightning speed to mentally figure out whether he feels you are both already at the stage of your co-Executive-ship wherein he’s comfortable enough to be sharing lewd jokes with you, or if he simply meant to appeal that he also likes the cat variety of pussies…the way that you do. It’s when you catch the exact moment the expression on his face drops, instantly looking like he wants to redact his confident declaration, that you realize: Mochizuke teetered somewhere between the two, but then his conviction wavered.

Which makes all the difference when the nature of the joke renders it such that its success or failure depends solely on its delivery.

Across the table, Sanzu and Rindou snort like a couple of middle-schoolers; Takeomi, like the grown-up that he is, only lowers his eyes with an (almost) imperceptible smile; and Ran spins around to your direction, grinning widely without saying a word.

Mochi, his cheeks burning bright red like a man on his tenth shot of vodka, turns to the two idiots with fire in his eyes: “Assholes—“

“Me too, Mochi, no worries.” You pleasantly cut him off, still looking unperturbed. This time, Ran chuckles.

Mochi is looking at you, narrowing his eyes, himself no longer sure which pussy he meant. Before he can clarify, Kakucho enters the room.

“Sorry, that was Mikey on the phone—what are we on now?”

“Pussies,” Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu answer in unison.

Takeomi simply shakes his head while Mochi balls a fist into an eye. Kaku’s blank face goes from Takeomi, and then to you, the two people he can normally trust to be a little less crazier than everyone else in the room. Normally. He sighs as he stares back at that sweet, unreadable smile on your face that Kaku never knows what to do with.

#112995

Koko arrives at the conference area to the scene of Sanzu being livid in the first open office. No not livid, as one might normally describe it, but considering whom he’s having a seemingly not so agreeable conversation with, he might as well be.

Nobody remembers a time when Sanzu ever raised his voice at you, not even Koko who’d been with the both of you the longest, and yet it’s here and he sees it, as he slows down his walking to take a peek inside the room: you, leaning against the table with your frigid arms folded around yourself, a storm brewing inside your usually calm eyes as Sanzu steadily paces in front. Neither of you notice him until he finally starts walking away.

“They can’t be seriously fighting,” the Bonten treasurer manages to joke as he pulls out a seat around the table, carefully placing his takeout coffee down. Rindou snorts from his perch by the window, and Ran only shakes his head as his eyes busily scan a thick pile of documents in his hands. It’s almost unfair how you both happen to disturb the peace in the rare time that Ran decides to actually be productive, he thinks, and figures you’ve both been at it for quite some time already and it was barely 10AM.

When you speak, your voice comes out an octave higher than anyone’s accustomed to hearing and they see your fuzzy silhouette standing up through the frosted glass wall. All three men automatically strain to get a better hearing.

“What I need is something that’ll completely knock me out—put me to sleep, dead unconscious. I told you that. This one,” you put something up in front of Sanzu’s face, “only made my body sleep. And when my nightmares began, my mind was completely, wide awake to see it all while my limbs were simply much too heavier to move.”

“Well, I already told you, you can’t take this,” now it’s Sanzu’s turn to gesture with whatever he has in his hands, “with this. Because it’s only gonna put you in a short-term coma and you’d still see whatever it is you see.” He waves an arm around. “Probably even much clearer ‘cause it spikes up your focus.”

“You didn’t tell me that last part.”

“Because you never mentioned anything about having nightmares! You just said you wanted something to put you to sleep!”

“God.” You curse under your breath as you pace away from Sanzu and face the opposite wall. “Well, then I can just increase the dosage of the first two you gave me last week, right? And then use them with three of the pink one, and then decrease the blue dos—“

“No.” Goes Sanzu’s firm, hard response, and Koko knows he’s not the only one glad enough to be not in that room.

You turn on your heels abruptly to face him again. “And why the hell not?”

“No, I won’t let you do that because mixing all that shit is gonna kill you, for god’s sake.”

None of them is seeing your expression but they can clearly tell how restrained and frustrated you already are from the way your silhouette backs again against the table. You raise a hand to your temple. For this round, the force that is you is stopped by an unmoving Sanzu.

“I just need to get one, good night’s sleep.” You sound so, so tired.

Sanzu lowers his voice. “How worse could it be?”

The silence comes abruptly and is almost as tense as when voices are raised, and just when Koko thinks you rather won’t answer back, you speak: “There was a woman who would always be hanging by her neck at the corner of my room. I was wide awake long enough to see her opening her eyes this time.”

“So the ghost in your dream is undead. Isn’t that how ghosts usually are?”

“Her eyes were sewn shut, Sanzu. They were. Sewn. Shut. Opened them for god knows how long and then stared back at me. And I couldn’t move.”

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Sanzu is raising both hands now, himself sounding alarmed at the sudden volume of your voice. Neither of you make any move for a short while until you speak once again, quietly this time. “You think you have a doctor I can consult for these? Maybe I’m just getting all the dosage wrong.”

The sound that Sanzu lets out is humorless and harsh. “You haven’t forgotten that these were all illegally acquired, right?”

“Well, then I’ll go find and threaten a doctor myself if I fucking have to, then.” The spike of cold, unrestrained anger in your voice seems to stun even Sanzu himself, that as you storm out of the room, it takes him half a second more before he comes walking out right after you.

“Fine!” He screams at your retreating form by the door, listens to the sound of your footsteps quieting down along with the front door finally slamming shut. He releases a loud, heavy sigh as he walks towards the table and harshly pulls out a seat, slumping his whole body down as he drops the small ziplock of colorful pills on the table. His face behind his hand is contorted in frustrated anger.

“Trouble in paradise, Sanzu?” Ran goes ahead and asks. “Not so much, I hope.”

“Oh, plenty,” Sanzu mutters. It’s obviously no joke being your informal dealer. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think she’s trying to kill herself.”

#099925

“So, anyway, since you think I’m so handsome, does that mean I got a chance with you?” You sigh before he can even finish his sentence. You really dug your own grave this time the moment you agreed to their 21 questions, did you? Just as much as they swore they’re gonna chew you inside out like a piece of gum candy. You turn your attention to Ran who is already slipping on that knowing, hooded smile of his, just as smoothly as you’ve slipped on yours—casual, unyielding, and matter-of-fact, a smile to level any man’s attempt at ruffling you.

“Well, not necessarily. I just said it so easily because it means next to nothing to me. I was only being honest.” Bonten’s Most Handsome is found clutching at his own heart like you’ve actually broken something inside of him while Rindou doubles over in a fit of laughter. Across you, Sanzu merely chortles in amusement, still a little amazed by Ran’s bold question, but also now a little more clearheaded than he was moments ago.

“Hey.” You chuckle at Ran’s mock despair. “I think I’d have better reasons to like you beyond just mere looks, you know?” To which his ears perk up and his face brightens once again. “Okay, that sounds like bullshit, but you know what I mean.”

“No, no, please, tell me more.” You instantly roll your eyes at his quick recovery and his shameless fishing for validation. By this time, Rindou has recovered himself, too, clearing his throat once as he taps on the glass table softly to recapture your attention.

“Okay, so what’s a man gotta do in order to win you over? Or what’s he gotta be like to, you know, to get you to notice him?”

You breathe out a light, airy laugh. “Rindou, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re trying to woo me.” He grins against the hand propped against his chin, like a child caught stealing out of the cookie jar against his better judgment. “First of all, I hope any serious guy wouldn’t even try. I’m more compelled to seek out what’s wrong about something when I’m being forced to buy into what’s good about it. I guess that comes with having to be constantly scrutinizing people, you get what I mean, right?”

“Ah-huh.”

“Second…I don’t actually know if I have an answer to that.” You squint unseeingly at your whiskey glass. “I just know it when I see it, I suppose. I just know the things I don’t like, things I can’t accept.”

“Like when a guy tries to win ya over by telling you how pretty you are.”

You pause to think. “Yeah, sure, that’s one.”

“So.” Ran leans to rest his elbows on his knees. “Would it mean nothing to you if a guy constantly showers you with…appreciation of your beauty?”

“Please, it likely means nothing if they got an ulterior motive. I might appreciate the gesture, but also.” You pause briefly to think. “I imagine, if a guy liked me first and foremost for my appearance, then he’d probably lose interest in me much sooner as we grow older.” A smile that none of them can discern. “Once I turn thirty-five even. Most likely. Most guys go for younger girls anyway. It’s shit but I can’t change that.”

“Heeey, a guy would have way more reasons to like you beyond your appearance, too, you know?”

You shake your head, still with that pleasant, perceptive look in your eyes that always see more than they do. “Not much to make anyone stay for that long, Ran. I promise you that.”

That one. That one Sanzu wants to protest, too, except his hand goes on to drown out his words instead with another tip of his glass.

“Alright. I got another one.” Rindou is still smiling so loosely, himself unruly and unyielding. “So who among us has even the slightest chance with you, then?”

A question that startles not only you, but Sanzu, though you more visibly. The pained expression in your eyes—though fleeting—was enough to draw both brothers much closer in, and it’s these moments that you always feel so half-tempted to actually wield your power and have them thrown into the proverbial pits. Although you doubt they’d even get the hint.

“I—“ you put up both hands at their obvious teasing smiles, “—am not going to answer that question, and why the hell are you two so fucking enthusiastic about my dating prospects, anyway? And why am I the only one answering these questions—?”

#008564

“So there’s that.”

You’ve barely touched your own food when you look up at him to be sure. “That was it?” Sanzu had promised he’ll give you a complete rundown of his supposed 4-day operation and you haven’t even gotten to the main course yet.

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ You wait for him to take a sip from his drink. Of course, his tasks are never just that, but, then again, he only tells you the things he discerns really necessary for you to know. “Told you there’s nothing much to report.” He did say that, too.

It’s been a while since the two of you ate out, just like this, and he finds himself paying more attention to the soft chimes of your laughter from across the table. Like it’s the first time he’s hearing you laugh, or that perhaps this might be the last time, as if the two of you weren’t just here in the same booth, in the same restaurant, two months ago—or has it been three?—relaying another report, or some sort of vital news or whatever it was that turned another work dinner to casual catching up and just plain old Not Working, like how it always happens, even though there’s often hardly anything you don’t know about what goes on in each other’s days.

Still, the conversation always lasts way late into the night, right up until the restaurant’s manager has to very kindly (and nervously) remind you that it’s closing time. Sanzu thinks that if it weren’t for you, the man would’ve already gotten one of his hands or his head cut off a long time ago. Around you, though, he somehow affords everyone else a little more time to live.

Unless they got both hands around your neck, of course. In which case, the whole city burns down.

This time, he observes the way you purse your lips into a grin. “Well and good. I’ve had enough thinking about work for today, I think. It’s nice to breathe, for a sec.”

He sighs, letting his head fall back against the plush seats and, for the first time today, allowing his whole body to loosen up and his muscles to untangle, his nerves to temper and settle against the backdrop of city noise and muted voices. He watches beneath a heavy set of lashes the way you lean forward against the window, face open and unguarded as you stare out. He’d look out as well to try to see whatever it is that’s making your lips tug at the corners, but for now, he thinks he prefers catching the soft lights bouncing off your eyes instead. In the stillness of the minute, he thinks he’s able to see the rise and fall of your breathing.

Sanzu lets himself smile in secret.

“Yeah, let’s not talk about work,” he says under his breath.

chapter 13 >

Relevant Q’s #snz_songs 💌

tag: @yukihime-mikeys-girl 💖

203 notes · View notes

yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

Text

just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be.

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids.

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together.

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes.

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out.

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee.

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard.

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final.

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.”

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing.

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.”

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time.

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?”

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break.

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs.

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit.

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs.

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint.

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint.

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car.

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now.

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store.

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs.

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone.

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?”

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too?

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?”

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?”

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number.

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?”

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously.

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks.

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts.

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you.

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me?

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably.

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles).

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa.

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks.

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet.

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there.

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display.

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs.

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood.

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently.

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently.

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you.

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly.

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.”

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds.

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters.

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says.

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes.

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until-

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts.

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with.

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated.

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.”

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless.

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently.

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back.

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains.

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date.

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand.

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck.

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him.

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works.

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods.

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.”

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns.

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles.

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear.

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa one shot #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #ateez fluff #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa one shot

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hanibalistic · 3 years

Text

#5B52AD | NA JAEMIN. NCT DREAM.

genre | fluff, friendship

word count | 2835

warning | a fever, mention of pain

note | i got kind of sick after my first dose of vaccine and i think about is my mother used to sit and rub my tummy whenever i get tummy ache even when it’s 3am.

your body felt heavy, you could not walk without an awkward arch of your back and at an annoyingly slow pace. you haven't gotten a migraine in so long that the gentle ringing in the back of your head now felt like a gradual decomposing of your brain. your tummy gurgled obnoxiously from time to time, confusing your body and mind with hunger and pain.

long story short, you were sick. you got sick, unfortunately, after a streak of good health for the past years, and you barely knew how to take care of yourself now because of how unusual the occurrence was.

you suspected it was the pouring rain you walked under the other day, or the multiple cold nights you've stood through in the unorganized tent area backstage during award shows this past few weeks. either way, since there weren't any other possible reasons, bad weather was the only thing you could blame your sickness on.

you had contacted the team manager about taking a few days off, leisurely estimating your return date while the manager told you to take your time and make sure to only work once you have fully recovered to avoid spreading your sudden fever to the dreamies when you get back. another thing you also asked of, with more grit and firmness this time, was to make sure the manager leak not a single word of you being sick to the boys.

it was true that you have not been sick in a long while, but so far you have gotten a grip on how it works and adapted to being uncomfortable and alone. reminding yourself to take those over-the-counter medicines was annoying but doable. moving around the apartment so you could cook and clean was exhausting but also doable. you did not need an extra pair of hands; it would definitely be good to have one, but you could survive without one.

you knew very well if the boys knew that you caught a fever, they would insist on visiting and taking care of you.

they would probably try to pull up to your apartment with some homemade soup and old movie discs, rambling on and on about sneaking out and forcing the driver to come to your apartment estate, complaining about you keeping everything a secret from your friends. then they'd get unreasonably mad at you for not visiting a doctor, and they'd force you to stay in bed while promising to take care of everything. they would be loud, and destructive, and annoying and—ugh! everything you do not need when you have a fever burning on your head!

"oh, finally!" you groaned in tired delight when you heard the doorbell ring. you have been waiting on the jajangmyeon takeout you ordered about fifteen damn minutes ago (to be fair, it felt like two hours with that migraine in your head).

shaking the shiver off your back when you stood on the cold wooden tiles with your bare feet, you grimaced at the pair of fuzzy socks you previously pulled off out of spontaneity, not wanting to bend down to get them from the ground. you stepped on then as you moved begrudgingly from the messy couch, where your blanket and tons of pillows resided, to the front door.

you unlocked your door with some trouble, finding it hard to stand on your legs and twist the lock. when you slowly swung open the door, you muttered, "sorry for the delay, it's kind of hard to–huh."

you cut yourself off when you saw the sight of renjun handing cash to your delivery man and patting him on the back as he bowed and left your house with your jajangmyeon. your eyes pulled back to look at the bigger picture—four people present before your apartment door, all wearing the same reaction to your figure uncared for.

renjun has turned his attention back from your delivery man and his grimace deepened when he saw your red face. donghyuck pulled a face at you when he saw your terrible posture and dead expression, and he tightened his grip on the small bag in his hand. jeno was frowning in disapproval with one brow raised as if you were spreading the bacteria to him but he was too polite to cover himself up. jaemin looked like he didn't want to be here, like always, but for a moment you saw his eyes flicker with soft concern over your visibly sick posture.

you sneered. that bastard! the manager snitched on you and here came the power rangers of the 2000s judging you at your front door! you would not take this absurdity!

"goodbye," you muttered blandly before you went ahead to close the door on their faces, but a hand swiftly reached out and blocked the door frame from meeting its end.

jeno smiled casually at you from the side, his arm muscle flexing as he, with no effort against your sickened strength, pushed the door open. you attempted to struggle against him, but obviously you were of no match for him, riddled with a fever or not.

"lee jeno," you warned.

"[full name]," he returned.

you clicked your tongue. you were too dizzy to get angry, but the rumbling inside your chest sounded anyway so you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by the boys' relentless care that you forget you didn't like this nor want this, that this wasn't ideal for you.

"please leave," you asked. "i don't need help."

"no. we're coming in whether you like it or not, [name], so give it up," donghyuck mentioned as he gently brushed past you into the apartment. "and before you ask–no, we are not leaving. we got our phones, and we brought movies. we also have to take care of you, so we got plenty to do here. we won't get bored."

you rolled your eyes as the rest of the boys followed behind. kicking their shoes off and placing them neatly to the side, they slowly began acting as if they were back in their humble abode.

donghyuck headed over to the coffee table before your couch. he grimaced at the sight of falling blankets and unorganized pillows as he placed the bag on the surface, then he turned to renjun, "renjun, where do we put the soup?"

"not on the coffee table, take it to the kitchen!" renjun exclaimed as he pointed aimlessly at a spot.

donghyuck listened. as he made his way to your open kitchen, he began rambling off. "you know, i can't believe you didn't tell us you were sick. i knew something was up when you were absent for more than a day!"

renjun nodded in agreement as he crossed his arms, looking to you with a semi-displeased expression. "he is right. we are all friends here, you should tell us if you need some help."

just having them around your apartment was enough to make you want to jump out the window. it was nothing personal against the boys, though. you would have felt the same with just about anybody who dared enter your territory when you felt uncomfortable. but the way they never stop talking—ugh, it made you want to end it altogether so you didn't have to listen to their voices overlap each other in such annoying frequency.

"if i needed help, i would have asked," you dragged out through gritted teeth.

donghyuck snickered from the sink, rolling his sleeves up and getting ready to do the unclean dishes. "oh yeah, that's why you have no clean bowl and spoon to use!"

"also, why are all your stuff here on the couch, [name]?" jeno complained as he picked up your heavy blankets in his arms. he popped his head out from the side and eyed you. "i'll take them back to your room, you should stay in bed!"

jaemin leisurely approached the coffee table, his face was bland with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. despite acting like he didn't want to be here, his curiosity to know whether you were doing well alone was killing him inside; you weren't, it appeared. he gazed around your apartment with feign disinterest before an opened box caught his eyes.

bending down to pick up the medicine, he furrowed his brows and turned to you. "these aren't doctor prescribed medicine."

ignoring the drowsiness in your eyes, you looked at the displeasure on jaemin's face before you sighed, "i didn't see a doctor."

"you what?" jaemin exclaimed in disbelief while the rest of the boys gasped in what sounded to be disapproval.

there it went. there came the wave of complaints and disagreement piling out of their mouths like rainwater flooding into the ditch. the migraine in your head magnified the more frustration built up inside you, trying to force you to explode on the boys who only meant well.

"yes, i didn't visit a doctor. stop making a big deal out of it," you retorted, straining your voice to make yourself heard. "do you know how expensive an appointment at the clinic is?"

"still! it's always better to visit a doctor!" renjun pointed out softly.

the others agreed with him like dominos, opinions falling on top of each other in the form of noises. you closed your eyes in hopes to cancel their presence, but they've been talking nonstop it felt impossible to ignore them.

their voices were adding to your nausea, too many words to understand and to process that you felt useless not being able to retain their words as quickly as usual. it made you want to vomit, it made your chest tighten, it made your tummy hurt.

"god... please... shut up," you muttered under your breath as you glared at the floor. "shut up... stop talking... stop talking!"

the heat burst.

"[name]..." jaemin began cautiously, dropping the empty box of pills on the table as he eyed you sturdily.

you grimaced; your lips quirking down in guilt and your eyes darting elsewhere but their faces. seeing their innocent, good-intentioned, widened eyes would just make you feel like a bad person more than anything. shaking your head, you waved your hand at them dismissively and proceeded to turn away.

"thank you for coming, but please leave because i don't need your help," you said, "i'm gonna go to bed. lock the door when you leave."

the boys watched you move back to your room slowly, still surprised at your sudden outburst. they half-expected something like this to happen, but not exactly the way it turned out. they did come here fully prepared to be kicked out kindly knowing well your inability to accept aid from others, but the event has taken a turn for even worse, it seemed. they had not expected you to yell at them.

donghyuck turned away from the sink, his confused gaze darting between the door to your bedroom and the rest of his friends. "we're not actually leaving, right?"

"no, but we will leave them alone," jeno mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. "for now, at least."

jaemin's eyes trailed after your steps and they have yet to tear themselves away from your bedroom door.

he knew you well, better than the rest of his friends if he could say so. even though you might have meant what you said, you wouldn't do anything if they refuse to listen. and the consequences of adhering to your request and leaving you alone when you just did something you didn't want to would outweigh those of them not listening to you.

you don't need help, you never ask for them, whatever reason that was. but you do want them when they were presented to you. he knew that much, at least.

"jaemin, where are you going?" jeno asked when he saw his friend shuffling across the small living room.

nobody talked when jaemin moved to your room and knocked on your door. he pushed it open without waiting for your permission, and the stifled cries stayed beneath the walls unknown to the outsiders. he softened at the sight of you helplessly rubbing your tears with your forearm, wanting nothing more than to coddle you, but he leaned against the door instead.

"feeling bad now, are we?" jaemin said to catch your attention.

your head hurt, the pain was piercing. but nothing shattered you more than realizing you were a bad person for refusing help from good people who cared about you, realizing the mortifying cycle of loneliness you cannot thrust yourself out of because you could not accept any form of good social interaction. you were never one to cry from those whimsical things, you were used to it, but the thought of your friends shuffling out of your apartment and leaving the area dead cold made you cry.

you still have them now, but for how long, really? how many more "leave me alone" and "i don't want your help" would they take until they truly leave you alone for good?

you sobbed out breathlessly, your words continuously getting cut off against your will. eventually, you made out a sentence.

"jae-jaemin, my head hurts."

like a sharp shot through his heart, jaemin wavered and crumbled. he wasn't sure if this kind of melting was good, but he was taking the ache along with him. he approached you swiftly and sat down on the edge of your bed, a spoiled gaze dawning within his eyes while he moved his hand to your head, threading his fingers through your hair and messaging your scalp.

"try going to sleep, it'll help," he coaxed.

the more you cried, the more he sunk himself onto your bed. he kept his head high up against the headboard of your bed, and he let you snuggle close against his side for comfort. your head hastily leaned against his chest, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to focus on the rhythm of which he scratched your head dotingly.

"shhh, it's okay," he hushed, reaching his free arm over you to pat your back. "it's going to be okay."

jaemin was always so kind. everyone was always so kind. with their homemade soup, their refusal to abandon you at a tough spot, their snark remarks against your constant attacks, their nagging and coaxing—they were your friends.

you never knew why it took so much effort to get it into your head that they were going to be here whether you wanted them to or not. when you pushed them away, they would push back ten times harder, however many times they needed to. they knew you hated blatant affection so they never show it, nor do they make you show it, but it was here. flowing between their heads was love, discreet love, love that sat in patience, understanding, and stubbornness.

you pack a mean punch, but they could take it.

"jaemin... how are they doing?"

jaemin looked up from your sleeping face to find donghyuck at the door. his hands were wet from messing around in the kitchen, and he wiped them clean on his pants as he quietly approached the bed to take a peek at you. he raised his brow when he saw your face smushed against jaemin's chest and hidden under your arm, then he signed.

sleeping, huh. good. he heard you cry from outside a while ago, everyone did. nobody said anything about it and the living rooms were hushed quieter until your sobs gradually calmed down.

"are you going to stay here?" donghyuck asked after he pulled away. "you might get sick."

"yeah," jaemin nodded down at you, "i might."

donghyuck pursed his lips together, then he shrugged. "alright, i'll leave you then. do you want me to turn the lights off?"

"no, i don't want to fall asleep," jaemin said, stroking your head gently. then he nudged his chin toward donghyuck. "i do want my phone though."

donghyuck scoffed when he was by the door. he was only gonna turn the lights off because it would help you, so if that wasn't needed...

"interesting," he said. "i'm not your errand boy, though. you can stay bored."

jaemin held back a hiss when donghyuck ran out to the living room. he grimaced after the opened door, eyes wide in annoyance that donghyuck left the lights on and the door open, that irresponsible bastard! and he wouldn't even run to get a phone, which would only take a couple of steps!

turning his attention, he glanced down at you instead and breathed out a sigh. he wasn't going to be on his phone for long anyway, he just wanted to tell jisung and chenle you were doing okay. other than that, he has the plan to stare at you until you wake up—your scrunchy nose and closed puffy eyes were abnormally adorable, he has to admit.

"yeah, i'll get him," jaemin whispered playfully down at you. "we'll get him when you wake up."

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softholand · 3 years

Text

cherry flavored kisses - t.h

pairing: tom holland x youtuber!reader

summary: tom and harrison try to do your makeup while answering questions to know ‘who knows you better’

warnings: swearing, a lot of dialogue

words: 3.2k

a/n: this is absolutely not my favorite writing, but i still quite like it so, here you go!! lol i really hope you guys enjoy it, i love writing this series (can we call it that?) and i have so many ideas for it :)) please, let me know if you like it and want more of these <33 i think that’s it for now, enjoy!!

Another day, another video to film. This time you weren’t alone though, you had your boyfriend Tom and one of your other best friends Harrison with you, to film a video you had been dying to.

You were finishing setting up your camera to start recording when you felt two strong arms wrap around your torso. “Tom, stop! I have to finish this!” You chuckled, already knowing the owner of those arms. “Couldn’t resist, you look good from the back.” Before the warning, Tom swatted your ass, causing you to let out a muffled scream, which got the attention of Harrison, who was previously on his phone.

“C’mon, you guys will seriously keep flirting with each other during the whole video?” Harrison huffed, tossing his phone away. “No, we’re not!” You assured your blonde friend, but Tom had a different idea. “Speak for yourself, love!” He smirked, happy to annoy his friend. Rolling his eyes, Harrison said, “I already regret accepting this!”

Once your equipment was ready, you called Tom and Harrison, who got settled in your bed, with you between the two. “You guys ready? Did you turn off your phones?” You asked, not wanting to have anything getting in the way of your filming. When both boys assured you they had, you relaxed, pressing the small record button on the remote on your hand.

“Hi everyone, welcome back to my channel! Today I have two very special guests here with me. On my right side we have Tom Holland and on my left, Harrison Osterfield. I don’t think you’ve ever been officially to my channel before, Haz?” You asked Harrison, to which he responded, “No, I don’t think so! Hello everyone!” He said, flashing the camera an smile.

“Well, you guys are already familiar with Tom, so he doesn’t need any more introductions.” You sassed, laughing at his offended face. “Rude!” He said, before giving the camera a little wave. “Hi guys, it’s me again, Tom! I know, I know you guys have been dying to see me again, what can I say?” Your boyfriend let it out, taking complete control of your video.

“Okay, that’s enough, movie star! Can we actually start the video now?” You asked, Tom, letting out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah! Go ahead!” He rolled his eyes to the camera, but you could feel the small kick he gave your foot, wanting to make sure you knew it was all a joke. You smiled, and before you could say anything else, Harrison came through.

“What is the video about, by the way? ‘Cause, I don’t know if you guys know but we have absolutely no idea what we’re doing here.” The blonde said, pointing to Tom and himself. “Yes, they have actually no idea why they’re here.” You laughed, being met with worried looks from both of the boys. “I didn’t like that laugh,” Harrison exclaimed, being followed by Tom. “Should we be scared?” Asked your boyfriend, but you quickly shrugged them off.

“No, just shut up and let me tell them, and you, what you’d be doing. On today’s video...” you said, before getting the makeup box you had put together for this video, which was hiding under your bed. “You are going to be doing my makeup!” You exclaimed, laughing at the boy's surprised reactions.

“Haven’t you realized I’m not wearing any?” You asked, pointing to your bare face. “No! You know you look beautiful anyway, love!” Tom cooed, making your cheeks grow red. “Oh, shut up!” You rolled your eyes, flashing him a smile.

“I don’t like this!” Haz let it out, inspecting some of your makeup products. “Isn’t it fun?” You smirked, making him roll his blue eyes. “You’re kidding, right? How am I supposed to do this?” The blonde huffed. “Actually, this is a test to know if you watch my videos, cause you’ll have to recreate one of my looks.”

Tom and Harrison shared a look that could only be translated by the word fear. “You do makeup-related videos?” Tom asked, completely oblivious. “It was not a proper makeup tutorial, it was more like a get ready with me.” You smiled, trying to ease both of the boys' nerves. “Well, clearly you both haven’t been watching my videos, so it’s your fault you have no idea what to do.” You sassed, putting your tongue out.

“We’re fucked, mate!” Your boyfriend chuckled. “Don’t swear on my videos, Thomas!” You scolded him, slapping his arm. “Okay, so I’m gonna show a picture of the look you have to recreate but that’s the only help I’ll give. You can’t ask me anything related to makeup during the video, got it?” You questioned, to which they nodded. “Also…” before you could finish your sentence, Tom added, “There’s more?”

“Yeah, I’m going to be asking you questions about me while you do my makeup, to know which one of you knows me better.” You squealed, feeling the excitement in your veins. The boys didn’t seem to be so happy, especially Harrison, who claimed this was not fair, since Tom was your boyfriend, therefore know more about you.

“We’ve been friends for forever, Harrison! I bet there’s stuff you know that Tom doesn’t.” You said, getting an offended reaction from Tom. “Hey!” He protested, to which you rolled your eyes. “Can we start now, please? We’ve been here for 10 minutes already.” You pleaded, getting them to finally agree.

“Okay, where do you guys wanna start?” You asked, being met with confused glances. After a couple of seconds, you heard “Foundation!” and “Primer!”, all at once. “Yeah, primer! That’s exactly what I said!” Tom tried to cover it up but Harrison wasn’t having it. “Fuck off, Tom! I said it first!” Swatting the blonde's arm, you went back to scolding, “I told you two not to swear!”

While the boys started to choose between your selection of products, you took back your phone that was currently sitting on the bed, with the selfie you took with the look they had to recreate. “While you guys start on my face, I’ll ask the first question. What do I like more: sweet or salty food?” You asked, closing your eyes for Harrison to apply the primer on half of your face.

“Sweet!” Tom answered, squeezing some of your favorite primers on his hand, before applying it to your face. “Yeah, you’re like an ant. Always looking for crumbs of sugar.” Harrison responded, making you chuckle. “True, I have a very sweet tooth.” You smiled, before going to the next question. “What is one of my biggest fears?”

While they looked for a foundation, they answered, again at the same time. Tom said spiders, while Harrison said, clowns. “I mean, you’re both right! But if I had to choose it would probably be clowns.” You said, laughing at Harrison's little victory dance. “C’mon, you can even look at a spider, love. You always call me to get rid of them.” Tom protested. “Well, yes but I would rather have to kill a spider than a clown.” You tried to reason but ended up making the three of you burst out laughing.

When you finally recovered from your fit of laughter, the boys started with their foundation choices. “Wait, you only put your skin tone foundations here, right?” Tom asked, still trying to find the perfect one. “Yeah, I’m not that evil.” You laughed. “Can I use this to apply it?” Harrison asked, holding one of your beauty blenders. “What did I say, Haz? No makeup-related questions.” You smirked, hearing him groan.

“God, I hope this works!” By your side, Tom started spreading some of the foundations he had placed on the back of his hand. “Okay, next question! Am I an early bird or a night owl?” Harrison was quicker than Tom this time, “Night owl! She just doesn’t sleep. It’s ridiculous!” He complained, to which you scoffed. “I do sleep, but I’d rather stay awake until 3 am than having to wake up at 6 am.” You reasoned.

“Just admitted, love! You stay up ‘cause we have lots of fun in bed.” Tom winked, making your face grow red, and Harrison gag. “Seriously, Tom?! Ugh, disgusting!” The blonde exclaimed while you tried your best to calm your nerves. “You did not just say that!” Tom only shrugged, laughing at both of your faces.

“Moving on, what was the most embarrassing moment in my life? Oh no, I already regret that!” You said, scared about the answers you were gonna get. Tom laughed while trying very hard to blend your foundation with an eyeshadow brush. Great.

“The time you slipped and fell into the water fountain.” You instantly cringed, remembering the moment vividly in your head. “God, I hate that I told guys that!” You let out a groan, asking for Harrison’s answer. “I was gonna say when you walked in your underwear without realizing Tom was doing an Instagram live, but that's pretty good too.” Harrison laughed, making you blush at his words. “Oh my god, I had completely forgotten that!” You exclaimed, joining your friends in laughter.

“It’s okay, babe! You looked really good.” Tom stated, pecking your lips. You blushed, still getting flustered by his compliments. “Thank you!” Smiling, you kissed him back, before checking your face in one of your blushes to see how they were doing. “That’s actually not bad, good job, guys!” You high-fived them, laughing at their smug faces.

“What’s next, then?” You waited for an answer, which came from Tom this time. “Concealer?” He was so unsure of his answer that it ended up sounding more like a question. “I don’t know, is it?” You shrugged, glancing at Harrison. “I think so, all I know is after concealer, you have to contour,” Harrison stated, taking you by surprise.

“By your shocked reaction, I think we’re right.” Tom laughed, you and Harrison quickly joining him. “Okay, while you guys do that, I’m gonna ask some other questions. Ready?” When they both nodded, you continued. “What is my favorite time of the year?” Tom immediately answered, afraid Harrison would say it first. “Autumn!” Your boyfriend proudly said, while your friend's answer was “Christmas!”

“I do love Christmas but my favorite has to be autumn, it’s just the perfect temperature and the trees are all orange. It's beautiful! So, point for Tom!” Tom smirked, making Harrison roll his eyes. “Next one, what am I allergic to?” You asked, and that was the only question you weren’t sure they had the answer for.

Harrison looked at you as if that would give him the answer. “You don’t have any allergies.” He stated, to which you shook your head. “I have one.” At that, he stopped applying the concealer to your face, totally focused on his next answer. “I have no idea, Uhm, pollen?” The blonde tried, but he was wrong.

“Walnuts, she’s allergic to walnuts!” Tom triumphantly exclaimed, knowing he was right. “Realy?” Harrison asked, to which you nodded. “I had no idea, you know how dangerous that was? I could give you something with walnuts and kill you?” He inquired, making you laugh. “I wasn’t going to die, Haz! It just gives me bad itches.” You clarified, watching him nod.

When the boys moved on from concealing to contouring your face, that was when things started to go south. Tom chose a colorway too dark for your skin tone, while Harrison put so much on your face turned orange. “I’ll give you guys one tip, just ‘cause I don’t wanna look like a clown at the end of this video.” You told them, before explaining they could go back to the concealer to clean the mess they made.

Once everything seemed good, they moved on to blush and highlighters, and you to your next question. “How many tattoos do I have?” You waited for the answers, while the boys kept painting your face. “Two, your star sign on your finger, and a butterfly on your ankle you did when you were 16 and regret it since then.” Harrison proudly said, making you wince at his words. “Ouch, you didn’t have to go that hard, Haz!” You smirked, looking expectantly at your boyfriend.

“What’s your answer, Tom?” Taking a break from your face, he cleared his throat before answering. “Three, the two Harrison said and a rose on your hip.” The brunette smiled knowing that, once again, he was the only one right. “Another point to Tom!” You exclaimed while Harrison looked at you like you had two heads.

“See? I said this game wasn’t fair! How could I know you have a tattoo on your hip?” The blonde protested, making your roll your eyes. “That’s not an excuse! The tattoo is visible when I wear a bikini, Haz!” You tried to reason, but clearly, he wasn’t having it. “Oh, sorry I don’t pay closer attention to your body!” Harrison mocked, sticking his tongue out when you flipped him off.

“The rose is my favorite one,” Tom stated, a smile wide on his face. “I wonder why!” Harrison exclaimed, and this time, it was Tom who flipped him off. “Okay, you guys finished with the skin, then?” You inquired, taking another look at yourself in the mirror. Overall, it wasn’t bad. There were a couple of patches here and there where they messed up the contour but, to your surprise, it actually looked decent.

“Now, you guys are lucky I chose a look with no eyeshadow.” You stated, getting excited about the next part. “But you’ll have to put false lashes on.” You smirked, knowing what was to come. “And you call that lucky?” Harrison inquired, making you laugh. “C’mon, it’s not that hard! Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” Taking the lashes from the box, you started to show them how to apply the glue and carefully place the falsies the closest to your real lashes as possible.

“God, I’m sweating!” Tom breathed, making you laugh. “I’ll close my eyes for you to apply, ok?” The boys nodded, and once your eyes were closed, you could hear their nervous breathing at each side of your face, making you chuckle. “This is stressing me out massively. You’re buying dinner tonight for making us go through this.” Your blonde friend sighed. “Oh, shut up! I do this every day!” You flipped him off, still unmoving.

Once you felt they stopped moving, you asked if you could open your eyes. Deciding to do a little prank, you pretended to open them, only for it to be stuck. “Oh my god, I think you guys glued my eyes shut!” You cried, already dying to watch his reactions. “What? We could do that?” Tom exclaimed, completely freaked out. “y/n, look at me!” Harrison asked, and you felt his hands going to your eyes.

“It hurts!” You whined, “trying” to get your eyes open. “Fuck, what do we do now?” Tom practically yelled, making you laugh, which obviously confused them. Opening your eyes, you saw two shocked faces, staring with wide eyes, right back at you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I had to!” You laughed, feeling tears starting to form in your eyes.

“I can’t believe you did this!” Tom breathed, while Harrison shoved you harshly, absolutely pissed. “You fucking asshole! I’m never filming with you again!” He stated while you tried hard to recover from your fit of laughter. “I’m sorry!” You apologized, doing your best puppy dog eyes for them.

“My hands are shaking!” Tom informed, showing his hands that were in fact, shaking. “Baby, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you’d believe it.” You said, guilt coating your words this time. Tom assured you it was okay, even saying he did find the prank kinda funny in the end. Harrison did not agree with your boyfriend, pretending to be mad for the rest of the video, even though the corners of his mouth gave him away.

Seeing you guys were filming for about forty-five minutes already, you decided to not even check the boy's work with the lashes, going straight to the last question, while they applied lipstick. “Okay, so here’s the final question, what is my body count?” You smirked, Tom’s expression completely shifting.

“Seriously? That is the question?” He inquired, raising his eyebrows. “Hey, they suggested the question.” You defended yourself, pointing to the recording camera. “I’ll go first then, let me see…” Your blonde friend said while pretending to count with both of his hands, over and over again. “Fuck off!” You flipped him off, watching his smirk grow in size.

“I’m kidding! But uhm, I would say five?!” Raising your eyebrows, you nodded, before turning back to Tom. “What’s your answer, sir?” You playfully asked. “Six, the answer is six!” He rolled his eyes, annoyed with the question. “Oh, shit! I’m so stupid! I forgot to count Tom!” Harrison face palmed himself, making you burst out laughing.

“Yeah, sorry to break this to you, mate but we already banged,” Tom smirked, shooting you a wink. “Tom!” You scolded him, while Harrison pretended to gag. “Gross! I didn’t need the image of my two best friends fucking in my head.” Harrison exclaimed, making your cheeks grow red. “Okay, that’s enough! Are you guys finished with the makeup?” You quickly asked, dying to change the subject. “Yeah, yeah!” Harrison murmured, while Tom smirked.

Taking your blush, you finally checked yourself in the mirror to see the finished look. “Oh my god, it actually looks good, guys! Good job!” You exclaimed, shamelessly fixing your lashes. “Well, I’m not gonna be the one judging who did it better, so now it’s with you guys. Who do you think did better, Tom or Harrison?” You asked, showing both sides of your face to the camera.

“About the questions, I’m pretty sure Tom won.” You stated, much to Harrison’s dismay. “Of course he did!” The blonde rolled his eyes, making you laugh. “Good luck next time, mate!” Tom teased, a smirk sitting proudly on his face. “Stop it, you two! Now say goodbye before I finally end this almost hour-long video.” You groaned, dreading the moment you’d have to edit the video.

“Bye everyone, thank you for watching! Please, vote for me!” Tom smiled, giving the camera an adorable little wave. “Mate, you already won the questionnaire, let me have this one,” Harrison whined, sounding like a child. When he said goodbye, you finished your outro, before finally stopping recording.

“We did it! Thank you, guys! It was a little chaotic but you did a great job.” You smiled proudly. “Of course, anything for my girl,” Tom stated, getting up from his spot on the bed, stopping right by your side. With both hands on your hips, he closes the distance between you, landing a soft kiss on your lips. “Okay, I had enough of you two for today. Bye!” Harison exclaimed, before also getting up, leaving your bedroom.

“Why do you taste like cherry?” Tom asked as soon as he let go of your lips. “Oh, it’s probably the lipgloss. It’s cherry-flavored!” You explained, asking if he liked it since his eyes kept trailed to your lips. “Hum, I love it!” Your boyfriend smiled, and this time it was you who closed the distance, giving him another one of your cherry-flavored kisses.

funny story (that’s actually not funny at all): the water fountain part it’s based on true events 🥲 lmao

tagging: @stuckonspidey @bi-writes @duskholland @screamholland @missnxthingg @wazzupmrstark @peeterparkr @veryholland @cali-holland @mrs-hollandstan @uglypastels @storybookholland @bi-lmg @spideyspeaches @sinisterspidey @rosyparkers @hollandswife @sunshine96love

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland x youtuber!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland fluff #my writing #tom holland writing

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still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years

Text

OBEY ME! LESSON 57 DETAILED SUMMARY AND DISCUSSIONS/THEORIES

*I wrote this days after the lesson was first posted and never bothered to go back and edit it so meaning there will be me theorizing about the next lesson as well

*I write a small para for each chapter and I write it immediately after finishing that chapter so there’ll be theorizing about the next chapter too

*I swear more than usual here

*Some of the dialogue is heavily plagiarized and a few is lifted directly from the story, the game is to figure which is which.

*Summaries and Discussions/theories for all the other lessons can be found on this blog under #obey me spoilers or #my theories or #my headcanons

MC wakes up to Belphie and Satan planning on kidnapping them, deciding to wake them up and then arguing about which small prank they should play to wake them up (satan suggests holding their nose till they wake up and Belphie says they’d have to be careful with that method cause it could kill a human). MC decides it’d be best nor to let them go ahead with anyone of this and wakes up screaming to scare them both. They complain about being reverse pranked and say that breakfast is ready. Belphie also gives them the star of diligence for all that happened last lesson. Belphie asks if once MC becomes an actual sorcerer if Solomon will teach them higher level magic. Satan say it’d be a great boost to the anti-lucifer league. Belphie wonders what the final exam would be (and I just realised these two exams will be the final exam holy shit) and satan asks MC if they’re confident, they say ‘after all the BS I’ve been through? FUCK YEAH!’ Satan says it’s good to be motivated but to stay focused, Belphie says past experience shows that MC can stand to lose a little focus and still be okay. There’s a commotion and they realise that it’s probably Beel rampaging cause he got too hungry.

Asmo scolds Beel for his rampage, Beel apologizes and Asmo tells him not to apologize through a mouthful of food cause it seems less sincere. Asmo asks if he even regrets it and Beel ignores him to go reheat the meat pies which pisses asmo off more. Belphie tells him to drop it and that it was partly their fault for taking so long to come back. Asmo then scolds Belphie for being too soft with Beel. Lucifer asks about MC’s star and congratulates them. MC thanks him and questions him being so happy about them nearly being done. He says them becoming a proper sorcerer is important for all the brothers and that personally Lucifer wants them to become more powerful than Solomon so that they can finally shut him up and make him stop pestering Lucifer for a pact. Belphie questions Lucifer more about Solomon and Lucifer complains, also saying that there are plenty of demons willing to forge a pact with him but Asmo says Solomon’s very particular about who he makes pacts with. Asmo says word for word, “It may not seem like it, but he’s got a very cold-blooded side to him. He probably picks his targets purely based on whether they’ll be of use to him.” (I just think it’s really interesting that asmo calls them ‘targets’ though the character relationship diagram did say that Solomon considers others his playthings). Asmo uses Mammon as an example of a demon Solomon wouldn’t want to forge a pact with but Mammon doesn’t respond instant he’s silent and distracted/worried. Asmo pokes at Mammon again asking if he agrees. Mammon distractedly agrees. Asmo’s smile instantly falls, shocked and upset that Mammon isn’t biting back and arguing or saying something mean in return (why is this my brother & I???). Satan says that Levi will also be useless to Solomon. Levi responds the same way as Mammon did which freaks out both Satan and Belphie. MC asks Mammon & Levi what’s wrong. Belphie states how weird they’re being and Asmo also asks what happened, looking particularly upset. Lucifer calls out to the both of them too. But before they get a response Barbatos calls Lucifer asking them all to come to the hotel immediately.

On the way over Satan says Barbatos asking them over this early is strange and asks if he gave Lucifer a reason, Lucifer said Barbatos had promised to explain when they got there. Satan asks if this is wise considering two of them were already acting odd. Lucifer turns to them and says he’s not going to ask what their behaviour’s about rn but when they go back home the two of them have to explain to him what happened. They both give distracted noncommittal hums as answers. Satan says they’re like completely different people rn and Asmo says whatever the reason behind their behaviour it’s probably stupid. Asmo then asks MC about how he should paint his nails next time, MC can say a mature look, =a feminine look or a simple look. Then he remembers he’s supposed to enrol in a cooking class that makes food to “cleanse the soul” it’ll be hard with new nails. He also worries about whether food that ‘cleanses the soul’ could exorcise him. MC after all the BS they’ve gone through is extremely paranoid and says it sounds sus Asmo says the 7 of them are also pretty suspicious and that given their limited time in the human world he wants to do everything he can. Behind them Levi meows. Asmo says that though the demons are here just on break the angels are gonna be here long term (guys guys guys what if S4’s after the brothers leave and it’s an angel focused season with them bringing in Michael and Raphael and the brothers only show up for small bits??? I’d cry I’ll get Mammon withdrawal). Levi meows again. Asmo says he wants to stay and have fun in the human world for longer too. Levi meows thrice in a row. Asmo finally snaps and yells at Levi. Levi says he just wants to talk to MC for a bit (remembered the girl in college who used to meow at me whenever we passed by each other). Satan says he knows that Levi’s done something bad that’s gonna piss off Lucifer and now he’s trying to drag MC away from the others to find away to fix it. Levi tries to deny it but Satan just congratulates him and says depending on how this turns out they may invite him to the ant-lucifer league. Belphie asks what he did and Levi tries to deny it until Beel stops walking in stunned silence and Belphie asks him what happened. Beel says he just remembered something awful.

Beel wants to go back to get his abandoned meat pies, Mammon breaks outta whatever stupor he was in to say that’s insane and MC suggests heading through the market. Beel loves the idea and hugs MC, with Asmo saying he wants to hug MC too. At the market people stare at them, Lucifer says it’s natural with how big a group they are, Asmo contributes it to his beauty, I say it’s Satan’s ugly ass clothes. Mammon says people oughta pay them if they’re gonna stare, Levi says it’s embarrassing and MC tells him he’s being too self-conscious, Levi replies saying it feels like he’s being made to do an embarrassing public dare. The butcher greets all of them, surprised to see all of them at once, Beel places his order and the butchers asks if they’re friends, family…(members of a cult? Orgy?) MC can look over at either Mammon or Lucifer and get them to answer. Mammon says that except for MC they’re brothers though he doesn’t like being stuck with them for brothers but what can ya do. Belphie says Mammon’s got that last bit backwards. Lucifer says the same as Mammon’s first part but adds on that the others can be embarrassing. Satan says ‘like you’re not!?’ The butcher looks at this back of idiots who all look roughly the same age and nothing alike and says “ah. I see.” Then says “MC is your friend or…”Asmo laughs and calls the butcher nosy and says he and MC are a couple and that they’re they love of his life (the butcher previously also was introduced to Beel & MC and Mammon & Mc as couples…), Mammon says MC’s his servant (what a dick. I love him so much), Belphie says he thought the story was they hired MC as their babysitter (and that doesn’t sound shady at all) MC can say they’re a.) family This makes Beel & lucifer really happy and they agree. b.) their master, Mammon says MC’s got it wrong and it’s the other way around. Levi says that at least in Mammon’s case they got it right. c.) their babysitter – Satan protests to being called a baby. The Butcher’s like right….I kind of don’t wanna ask for anymore details but it’s nice you’re all so close.

Up in the hotel Beel is on his 37th meat pie much to Asmo’s dismay. Diavolo greets them and apologizes for the time, MC asks ‘what kinda bullfuckery is going on now’. Since last night there’ve been rumours of an evil spirit (aren’t diavolo & Barbatos also technically evil spirits…) Last night a guest had coming running to the front desk, seeming very pale and petrified with fear insisting there was something in the room with them. Though they don’t say a word Mammon gets shocked by this and Levi gets upset. Several staff members had gone to investigate but what they’d seen had left them shaking and unable to speak. They shock was so much that everyone who’d seen it had been admitted to the hospital. Mammon starts nervously laughing, saying it must have been all in their imagination, the way he words it makes it sound like he’s implying evil spirits aren’t real which I find hilarious. Levi, stuttering, backs him up. Satan says they can’t have all imagined it (isn’t this a thing though? Wait lemme google it up. Mass hallucinations or epidemic hysteria. The first two examples are during the middle ages and they both happened to nuns which is odd. The first was a nun who kept biting other nuns and it spread till the nuns were biting each other. The other was a nun who kept meowing and well that spread. Hey you guys need to read the wiki page for the examples of this it’s really fucking interesting). Mammon ignores Satan and tries to leave citing ‘stuff’ he’s gotta do. And Levi suddenly remembers some of his prior commitments as well. Asmo calls them out for being suspicious and Mammon stutters through the whole sentence denying it. Lucifer bans them from leaving which upsets them and Satan realises that they were called to get rid of the spirit. MC (who’s a shit) asks why the demon king’s son can’t take care of it or if it’s safe for demons to exorcise evil spirits. He says he’s got meetings the whole morning and that the spirit is something he can’t keep waiting till later. He says that though to humans they may seem similar, demons and evil spirits are very different beings. He also says the spirit is the kind that’ll be hard even for demons to handle alone. Asmo asks if that means Diavolo knows what it is. He says it’s a bogeyman (Me: *snort*)

The twins are surprised, Diavolo asks MC whether they know what it is. Bogeymen are well known even in the human world, with children fearing they may be hiding in dark corners of their rooms, they don’t have their own form and instead appear as your greatest fear (and isn’t this the thing from harry potter? A boggart right?) Belphie asks how it could have ended up in Corvo and Lucifer turns to the two obvious suspects as they try to inch their way towards the door. Through stutters they try to explain that they weren’t trying to run away. Lucifer’s so pissed at this point his text has stopped appearing in bold and is now appearing in red. Mammon throws Levi under the bus, saying he wouldn’t stop adding all these new upgrades to crowe, levi says it was Mammon doing that using Levi’s account and money. Levi said Mammon wanted to try an effect called “Pandora’s Gacha” which would give you a random effect that you weren’t told about beforehand. When Lucifer yells at them to quiet his text is both bold and red so you know he’s seconds away from murdering them. He makes them explain everything properly from the beginning and there’s a flashback. They’re both in Levi’s room, realising how badly they fucked up, as black mist starts to swirl around them (they also keep finishing each other’s sentences as they talk about how fucked they are which I thought was cute). Levi says he has no idea what they summoned but that it should definitely not be loose in the human world and Mammon cusses out crowe (which fair? Which did an update to crowe let loose an evil spirit? Maybe cause crowe’s also connected to the devildom but I can’t imagine anyone in the devildom wanting to be surprised with an evil spirit either… and shouldn’t they correct that bug before someone in the human world summons something that only crowe in the devildom is supposed to summon. But I guess Levi’s crowe is a prototype). Crowe actually answers Mammon and starts telling what it is an what it does as the mist starts taking form. Crowe congratulates them on winning a ‘super special rare effect’, Mammon asks how they could congratulate them when this sucks. The mist forms into Lucifer in his demon form resulting in the two of them screaming and panicking, Mammon’s chanting ‘no’ over and over again and Levi shrieks at Crowe to get rid of it and Crowe asks if he wants to transfer the bogeyman to another location. Crowe asks permission to use 1000DP to install an update to do that, which makes Levi hesitate but Mammon agrees. Crowe asks where they would like to send it. Levi starts stuttering saying he doesn’t know and Mammon says anywhere but here. Levi then stutters out hotel corvo. (So I have questions: Does the bogeyman appear as what you fear the most in general or what you fear the most at the time you see it? Like since before it formed a shape they were already freaking out about Lucifer getting pissed at them so in that one moment that’s what they were scared of more than anything else. Also does it transform into your collective fear? Like since Mammon & Levi met it together it transformed into a pissed demon Lucifer cause that’s the one thing they both fear the most but if it met the two of them individually would it transform into something they alone fear the most? I’m asking cause the two of them seem to piss off Lucifer so much, and despite knowing the consequences for their actions this does not stop them from doing more things to piss off Lucifer, and they’ve been doing this for thousands upon thousands of years that it doesn’t make sense that the thing they fear the most would be Lucifer.)

Back in the present mammon happily compliments Levi on his quick thinking of transferring it to Corvo, Levi happily takes the compliment, calling himself a genius and saying he’d seen an ad for corvo right before the whole bogeyman thing appeared and it popped into his head. “How very interesting…” Says Lucifer with a smile on his face and remembering where they are right now Levi gasps. Lucifer quotes back what they just said to each other before transforming into his demon form making the two of them start screaming again. Belphie says the two of them redefine stupid. Barbatos, with a smile, says he’s pleased they found the cause of all this. And Satan remarks that Barbatos seems really pissed. Beel says the way he’s smiling makes it scarier and actually reminds him of Satan (I love the smiling despite being consumed with seething murderous rage thing some of the demons do. We even saw Mammon do it in that one Devilgram where the brothers for once actually managed to piss him off enough to make him transform into his demon form.) Barbatos says he’ll leave the clean up to Lucifer and the others. Lucifer, now back to normal, agrees despite looking upset and saying he’d rather not. Barbatos drags diavolo to his meeting despite Diavolo protesting and saying he doesn’t want to leave as things get interesting and asking if he can reschedule the meetings, Barbatos says Diavolo had promised to be professional and get all his work done if Barbatos let him come and stay in the human world. Diavolo asks MC if they can have a gossip session about everything that’s gonna happen later and they promise to. Diavolo complains again and Barbatos smiles and goes ‘Young Master.’ And Diavolo immediately fold and leaves. Belphie comments on how even Diavolo wouldn’t dare cross Barbatos when he’s pissed. Asmo and Satan say Levi and Mammon should fix this mess. Mammon says as brothers they should stick together. Belphie says he doesn’t get to play the brother card at his convenience. Asmo asks if MC agrees with him. Levi gives them puppy dog eyes and asks if MC will abandon them. If MC says they should all work together Mammon gets all sparkly eyed and says he knew MC would agree and Levi gets all sparkly eyed and says MC’s the best. Belphie says he doesn’t want to be stuck dealing with this. If MC says it’s their fault and they should figure it out Mammon asks them if that doesn’t sound too harsh and Levi says he understands that nobody cares about them. Satan calls them tweedled-dee and tweedled-dum and says they brought it on themselves. Beel asks Lucifer what they’ll do. Lucifer says Mammon & Levi should deal with it, Levi tries to protest but Asmo says they should have known this would happen. They’re interrupted by Simeon and Solomon, with Solomon saying he wants MC to take care of this.

Lucifer asks why they’re here. Solomon says Barbatos told him and that the bogeyman was a perfect opportunity that they can’t let go to waste and that he wants to make it MC’s final exam. MC can say it sounds exciting or crazy, MC’s a lunatic so after they say the first Solomon is pleased and says he’d expect nothing less from his apprentice and that this is gonna be hard but it’ll make it more rewarding. Simeon laughs and says Solomon seems to have rubbed off on MC, he pauses and adds “in a good way”. Solomon smiling says that they’ll have Simeon with them as help. Simeon says he’d only come by to deliver cakes but had gotten kidnapped by Solomon. MC says they could use Simeon’s help, he’s silent for a moment but agrees though he says he doesn’t know how much help he’ll be. The others agree to come along to watch/help MC’s exam. Mammon gets all sparkly at the thought of his ‘sweet little brothers’ coming to help but Belphie says none of them are doing it for him or Levi but for MC instead. Levi says he feels like they really lucked out here. Solomon asks Lucifer if he has any protests. Lucifer looks tired and done but agrees to it all. They end up in a really creepy bloodstained hall bathed in red light. Beel asks Levi not to walk plastered on to him. Levi stutters and says he can’t. Mammon, also thoroughly freaked out, holds on to MC as they walk and says the hallway is really creepy. Asmo scolds him for using this as an excuse to hold MC. Lucifer tells them all to stfu. From the far end of the fall they hear growling until from the shadows something roars and comes charging towards them. Mammon screams.

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sageinacage · 3 years

Note

Hellooo I saw you were taking requests again!! :D Would you be alright doing a bit of a hurt/comfort ish playful fic like Tommy asking techno to help train him. Techno notices that tommy starts to completely overwork himself and comforts him about like not feeling good enough to be techno's brother and techno playfully tickling him to force him to take a break? I'm sorry if this was a long prompt, it's 4am lol... Thank you so much!! :D

summary: tommy wants to be as strong as his brother techno, but doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to a/n: sorry i haven’t been active this weekend :[ im on the last 3 weeks of school and they’re piling so much stuff WAAAH warnings: swearing, self consciousness, self doubt (this is a hurt/comfort fic!) w/c: 1.6k

DSMP

“Techno, how did you get to be so… strong?”

“Hard work, Tommy. A lotta’ hard work.”

Tommy huffed, crossing his arms. That was definitely not the answer he wanted, because the boy wanted to be a force to be reckoned with now. “Well… what kind of hard work?” He egged on, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Well, experience is a big one- I’ve done a lot of fighting and gained a lot of perspective from that… uhhhh… I study books with ancient techniques? I uhhh, let me put some thought into this, kid,”

Techno continued to think, putting a hand to his chin in thought. None of these Tommy liked, as they both took much time, perseverance, and he was just too young to have had as much experience as his brother. “Oh, I’ve trained a lot-”

“Aha! Training! How do I train?” Tommy cheered, almost leaping with how excited he got. The boy assumed he would be able to be unstoppable after one training session, but his older brother didn’t know how to convey that it wasn’t possible- but also didn’t want to crush his spirits at the same time.

“Tommy,” Techno started, then let out a long sigh, “..it’s not that easy. I’d be willing to help but-”

“Let’s go now then, big man!” The blonde exclaimed triumphantly, marching towards the entrance to their house’s backyard. Techno watched him stomp out the room towards the back exit, shaking his head and following the boy.

When he arrived outside, Tommy was already in a set of armor with his sword out, grinning madly at Techno. With an amused huff, the piglin picked up his sword and stood a good distance from in front of him.

“Alright, the first thing is stance. Make sure you’re standing so you’ll be able to block on any side of you.” Techno placed his sword down, heading to Tommy. He gently moved his arms and shoulders to be in a preferred position. The boy stood there, completely stiff like a statue.

“Y’know you gotta loosen up, you need to be able to block and dodge attacks and can’t do that when you’re stone.”

“I gotta be like stone, so I can’t be knocked down!”

Techno shook his head, pushing his hand into Tommy’s side, making him fall on the grass. “That wasn’t fair!” Tommy whined, getting up and brushing the dirt off of his light armor. “All is fair in fights, kid. You never know what your opponent will do.” The piglin explained, pushing up his glasses.

Tommy muttered something under his breath, getting into the fighting stance his brother showed him. “I’m ready!” He announced, Tech sighing. “Tommy, you need to know the basics before going into battle.” He frowned, crossing his arms. “There are no basics in war!” Tommy rebuttals, using the phrase Techno used earlier against him.

“Actually there is-”

“I didn’t ask!” Tommy ran at Techno, falling onto the dirt as the man stepped to the side. “You don’t just run at someone and expect to get a hit on them, smartass.” He playfully flicked his brother’s head, who grumbled and got up, trying to get more hits on Techno.

The piglin continued to step out of the way, eventually sighing and easily disarming him from his blunt training sword.

“Tommy-”

“I can’t do it! How can I even be your brother?! I can barely even hold the sword, it's so heavy! I’m done with this, I’ll never be as strong as you!” Tommy fumed, throwing his armor off and stomping inside the house to go up to his room. Techno put his training sword away, sighing softly. ‘The kid has potential, he just gets ahead of himself.’ Techno thought, then heading inside to go upstairs to check up on his little brother.

“Can I come in?” He knocked on the door, hearing a small ‘no’ from inside. Techno huffed. “Please? I want to talk to you, Toms.” He asked again, then hearing nothing. “Fine.” Tommy gave him permission to come in, which Techno gladly took.

“Hey,” His brother sat at the foot of his bed, looking at him. “You’re just so cool. You’re Technoblade, everyone knows you as strong and scary. And… and I’m just Tommy. The little brother, the obnoxious one.” He ranted, sniffling softly as he curled his knees in and hiding his face.

“I wouldn’t say that, Tommy. I’ve heard people talk about how brave you are, which I’m gonna have to agree with. Also, you’re not obnoxious, I wouldn’t want to hang out with you if you were.” Techno showed him a small smile, opening his arms. Tommy leaped into them, wrapping his arms around his brother and holding his cape with an iron grip.

“Really? People think that?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that, kid.”

“I am pretty brave and cool, I gotta say,” Tommy chuckled softly at himself, his giggles slowly growing as Techno sighed at him. “Oh, I’ll give you something to laugh about!” He exclaimed playfully, his dull claws shifting around his waist.

“TEHehehechno!” Tommy made the poor mistake of shifting onto his back, so now he was just sprawled across his brother’s lap, stuck in his tickly grasp. “Tommy!” Techno playfully mocked, snickering at Tommy’s small growl in defiance.

“You’re really brave to try to rebuttal my attack, ain'tcha?” He spoke lowly, slipping one of his hands under Tommy’s loose shirt to lightly scratch at the sensitive skin around his belly. “Yohou suhUHUCK!” He complained, kicking his legs out in front of him. “What did you just say to me? You really are fearless.”

The boy was about to smile triumphantly until a blunt claw gently scritched over the bundle of nerves over his hip bone. “SHIHIHIT- Nohot thahahat!” Tommy complained. “Sohomewhehere else!”

“Y’know Tommy, when I tickle Ranboo right here he’d dip out right away. You must be tough if you can withstand this!” Techno praised, a fond smile washing over his face. Tommy continued to shake his head, the ticklish sensations making him tingle all over.

“Hmmm, let’s see if I could make you break. Highly doubt it for how well you’re taking it though, kid.” He chortled before laying Tommy down and skittering both his fingers up his sides. “IT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!” He arched his back, a wheeze escaping him. The claws continued to explore up his sides, dragging back down before stopping at his upper ribs to scribble over the ticklish skin there.

“WHIHIHIYYY?!” Tommy whined, slamming his arms down. “Because!” Techno smirked, drilling his fingers as they were trapped and he couldn’t wiggle them anymore. “THAHAHAT’S WOHOHORSE!” He screeched, the piglin just laughing. “Then free me, smarty!” His fingers continued to drill and prod as much as they could, shifting up to reach his underarms.

“NOHOHO! IT’LL BEHE EVEN WOHOHORSE!” Tommy grumbled, kicking his legs. “Good observation, Tommy! Never let your enemy get an advantage!” His brother praised again, smiling down at him. The grumpiness in the boy’s tone turned more gleeful, the pinkette grunting in success.

“But what if the enemy planned a surprise attack?!” Techno exclaimed, leaning his head down to blow a raspberry over the upper part of his tummy, repeating the action but on his navel next time. “I WIHILL SUHUHURVIVE!” Tommy retorted, trying to push at his head. “I’d like to see you try.” He challenged, lifting his shirt a small bit before leaning down to place nibbles along his lower belly and around his hips.

“FUHUHUCK! TEHEHECHNOHO!” He threw his head back, still holding onto Techno’s hair but not really pushing him away. Techno was genuinely surprised- usually, his nibbles can kill anyone and make them plead for mercy. “Wow Tommy, you can withstand my nibbles? You must really be a champ, huh kid?” He complimented, smiling at Tommy’s giddy squeal.

Techno knew how much Tommy needed this, he needed to hear how actually brave and tough he was, because the truth was the kid was strong, just needed to hear it to believe it. “You were able to survive that, but can you survive this?” He devilishly smiled, moving his claws over to scritch at his lower tummy as he nibbled up his sides.

“YOHOHOU’RE HOHORRIBLE!” Tommy shrieked, kicking his legs and arching his back, but still wasn’t begging for mercy like Techno thought he would. “Able to survive again? This is like the hardest time I’ve had tiring someone out, Toms.” Techno admitted, Tommy giggling and happily chortling in response. He was genuinely proud of himself, feeling stronger than ever.

“Alright. I give up.” Techno chuckled, pulling his brother in for a hug while he calmed down. “I wohohon!” Tommy announced excitedly, hugging him back. “Yeah yeah, whatever.” The piglin sighed contently, pulling away.

“You know Tommy, being strong is more than just physical strength. You gotta have the right mindset, and you’ve definitely got it. I’ve never met someone as strong-willed, enthusiastic, and brave as you.” Techno explained, rubbing his stomach and side area, trying to help with the after-tickles.

“Reheally?”

“Yeah, really.” Techno chuckled, getting up. “How about I teach you a lesson in some historic techniques in fighting, I think you’ll find it interesting.”

“Books are so boring- ugh, fine.” Tommy crossed his arms, standing up and stretching, before following his brother out of the room. “What were you boys doing?! I thought Tommy was being attacked for a hot minute.” Phil laughed from the kitchen, seeing them walk by. “I beat Techno in a tickle fight, that’s what happened!” Tommy laughed, nudging his brother.

“Yep. He beat me. Strong kid, I tell ‘ya.”

#SBI my beloved #mcyt tickle #lee!tommy #ler!techno #ler!technoblade #my writing

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

Synopsis: After taking Legolas, your partner, to visit your “Stardust” addict brother, things get a little chaotic.

A/N: I’ve been thinking about Legolas a lot lately, and one thought that’s recently crossed my mind is “what if Legolas got high on crack?” and my brain ran with the rest. Sometimes you just gotta write about an elf on cocaine.

Warnings: drug abuse, addiction, peer pressure, mentions of sex, a very crazy and over-the-top elf high on Stardust.

Dismounting your respective horses, both you and Legolas dropped to the pine needles below. You had finally arrived at your brother’s secluded cottage in the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the cities.

“I can’t believe he actually managed to afford a place to live,” you scoffed, thinking of your brother.

He had suffered many years with addiction to “Stardust”—a white powder when once inhaled, made your body react faster and more impulsively than usual.

“Try to be optimistic,” Legolas soothed. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and kissed your head. “Keep in mind how much you want your older brother at our wedding, and that’ll put things into perspective.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, supposing he was right. “This wouldn’t be the first time Franny lied about ‘being better’, though.”

“No,” Legolas agreed, walking you both forward towards the cottage, arm around your back. “But this is the first time he’s said so upon us getting married in a month.”

The grin he gave you was one brimming in lovesickness, as he studied your eyes.

You arched a brow up at him over his words, knowing exactly how elvish marriages were undertaken, and how you technically already were husband and wife.

Catching your expression, he cleared his throat sheepishly, and responded with, “Well…married formally, at least.”

You rolled your eyes away from him, but couldn’t fight the smile on your face. However, it soon ran away, as you both arrived at the closed front door.

You inhaled tightly, and spoke aloud. “Here we are, I suppose.”

Hearing the premature disappointment in your voice, Legolas looked down his side at you. Grabbing hold of both of your hands, he gazed into your eyes and reassured you.

“Hey,” he lulled, earning your full attention. “It’s all going to be fine, all right? You needn’t worry about your family embarrassing you in front of me, like you mentioned on the road. We’ve talked about this whole ‘prince and commoner’ thing at length. I wouldn’t have…married you if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Your heart melted and your knees turned to mush, as you smiled up at him—bursting with love.

He returned the look and brought one hand up to cup your cheek. Running a thumb along your cheekbone, he began tilting your head upwards.

Still feeling your stomach flutter after all these years, you eyed him in excitement, before steadily closing your lids.

Right before his lips could brush against yours, however, the door to your brother’s cottage slammed opened.

Jolting away from one another, you both looked at Francis in shock. He looked every bit like you, but taller.

A broad grin was on Francis’ face, as he eyed his sister up.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to tackle you into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it! Oh! I haven’t seen you in years! And to think that you’re now getting married! Speaking of which—”

He pulled back from squeezing you blue, to size up Legolas instead. He strutted forwards with a low, manly laugh, and gripped a suddenly rigid and wide-eyed Legolas tight on the shoulders.

“My future brother-in-law!” he exclaimed, quickly pulling the protesting elf into a bear hug. “An elf, AND a prince! I can’t believe how well my sister scored!”

Laughing nervously, Legolas awkwardly wrapped his arms around Francis, patting him on the back. The only person he’d ever truly been skin-to-skin intimate with was you. Everyone else got a closed fist to the chest, or a shoulder clasp.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Francis,” Legolas said, politely.

“Francis?” he exclaimed, pulling back and holding Legolas straight by the shoulders. “Who are you, my mother? Don’t be so formal, your highness! You can just call me ‘Franny’, like Y/n here does!”

He turned to you with a broad grin, and you returned it, though, in a lipped manner. Legolas offered a tight and confused grin back, unsure at the best of times on how to interact with humans. Francis was certainly the most bizarre one he’d met yet.

He almost regretted encouraging you to visit him, but the thought of your nearing wedding day ahead drove him forward, as well as one simple, repetitive thought.

Do it for Y/n.

“Well, don’t be strangers now!” Francis pressed on, ushering you both inside. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea? Moonshine?”

“Tea is fine, Franny,” you said in an almost scolding tone, knowing he shouldn’t drink at all.

As you stepped inside of the home, you inspected every nook and cranny with your eyes—expecting bags of Stardust to be lying around.

However, to your surprise, there were none.

“Tea coming right up!” Franny declared, whisking away to the kitchen. “Please! Make yourselves at home down at the table!”

Legolas thanked him with a smile, and sat you down in a gentlemanly manner, before taking his seat next to you.

Looking around the room, and pleasantly surprised with your brother, you voiced so aloud.

“Wow, Franny, this place actually looks amazing! I’m quite proud of you—it seems as though you’ve really cleaned up your act this time, as opposed to the last occasion.”

“I’m completely clean, sister!” his voice came from the kitchen. You could also hear the whistling of a kettle and the rattling of drawers.

You smiled up at Legolas with excitement in your eyes, as you truly believed your brother. He returned your smile, and offered a brighter one as you spoke.

“I think he’s really done it…should we invite him now?”

“Absolutely,” he encouraged. “Do you want to go get the invitation out of the saddle-bags?”

Nodding resolutely, you stood to your feet. You placed a peck against his lips, before leaving out the door again.

“Make friends with him,” you said, before leaving with a happy skip in your step.

He waved you goodbye, before Francis’ voice caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey, do you think—oh, where’d she go?”

Legolas looked over his shoulder to find Francis’ head sticking out of the entranceway into the kitchen, as he looked left and right for his sister.

“She’s just stepped outside for a moment,” Legolas answered, politely.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Francis dropped his act, and his expression.

The change in demeanour chased the smile away from Legolas’ face, as he parted his lips in shock up at the man.

“I beg your pardon?” Legolas asked, already on the “what did you just say about my wife?” boat.

“She can be a real nagger sometimes,” Francis explained. He dropped to his knees and pulled a wooden plank out from the floorboards. Underneath, a brown bag of white powder lay.

He fetched it quickly, and came to sit on the couch next to Legolas, but a few feet away. Francis then began pouring a handful out, where he next went onto inhaling some.

“What are you doing?!” Legolas nearly squealed, jumping to his feet, as if a snake was just placed next to him.

“Elevating myself. What’s it look like, elf?” Francis sassed, quirking a brow up at Legolas.

“Are you insane?” the angry side of Legolas emerged. “Y/n just left to retrieve your wedding invitation, and you’re betraying her trust?”

“Relax, would you?” Francis complained, inhaling more of the dust from his hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”

“Uh, I’m standing right here,” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his body.

Looking his brother-in-law up and down, Francis replied, using a very monotonous voice. “Uh, yeah, I can see that. You’re a real stud of a stallion, so what?”

“No, that’s not what I—” Legolas went to defend himself. However, he bit his tongue and pressed both hands together in a praying motion. He brought said hands up to his face, and rested his forehead against them.

Closing his eyes, Legolas took a deep breath of his own.

“Wow, you look really stressed there, my friend,” Franny pointed out, holding the bag up next. “Would you like to try some?”

Jolted back into his senses, Legolas gaped down at the man for a minute in shock, before anger gave way again. “NO, FRANCIS! I WOULD NOT LIKE SOME OF YOUR DRUGS! Y/n will be devastated when she finds out you’re using again! And I encouraged her to give you another chance—I see why she was so against it now.”

The frown and glare of Legolas only deepened, as Franny rose to his feet, squaring up with the slightly taller elf.

“Hey, pal, you have no idea what I’m all about,” he growled, nodding his head in gesture of the elf. “And besides, who are you to judge? You’ve never even tried Stardust before!”

“Oh,” Legolas scoffed, rolling his eyes, “excuse me for having never done drugs before, what a horribly ignorant elf I am.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Francis urged, holding up a handful to Legolas’ nose. “C’mon, just a little sniff! You’ll feel a lot calmer soon, I promise!”

“No!” Legolas rejected, swatting his hands. “Get that stuff away from me, Francis!”

“C’mon!” Francis drew out, trying to put it underneath Legolas’ dodging nose. “Just a little bit of Stardust won’t hurt you!”

“No, but it’ll hurt Y/n!” he protested, trying to move away from the adamant man.

“Just a little!” he urged again, chasing Legolas, as the elf was backed into a corner.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“I SAID NO!”

“Okay, you know what?” Francis rolled his eyes, now fully having the elf cornered. “Here!”

With one big puff of air, the entire handful of Stardust blew into Legolas’ face, entering his system almost immediately.

Legolas rapidly blinked his eyes open and shut, as he tried to get rid of the dust. The white powder danced between the man and elf in an equal amount, getting both high very quickly.

As the dust fluttered down to the floor, looking as though a bag of flour had just exploded, Legolas stared at his brother-in-law in shock.

“You…” he attempted to say, before he felt the pumping of his heart increase.

“Oh, yes, my friend,” Francis grinned, nodding his head. “You’re in for a good time…”

Outside, you had finally found the wedding invitation in your saddle-bag, now heading back on over towards the cottage.

You barely had time to announce your presence again, for the first thing you saw upon re-entering was your brother and husband kneeled on the floor, speaking fast and brooming up…flour?

“I feel like everything’s gonna work out, you know? Because I’m like clockwork!” your brother said, all in one go, to Legolas, as they quickly broomed everything up. “Look how fast I’m cleaning this mess up! Clockwork! I’m moving super-fast! Look at me go!”

Legolas nodded vehemently, and raised one finger to speak over the top of your brother, as they both continued vigorously cleaning the floor.

“Y-You know what’s funny? Can I speak? You know what’s funny?” he began, quick as a whip. “I feel like I should be panicking right now, and I am a little bit, but in a very, very good way—like a good kind of panic, because I feel like I want to die right now, but I also feel very, very good—”

“Hey!” you called, staring at them in confusion. “What on earth are you guys doing?”

“Y/n!” Legolas gasped, shooting to his feet.

Jumping over the couch in a way that made your eyes go wide, Legolas was instantly stood before you.

“I feel amazing!” he revealed, grabbing a chunk of blonde hair either side of his head, and pulling outwards. “LOOK HOW LONG MY HAIR IS! It’s growing out of my head right now—can you believe that? Isn’t that sort of disgusting? Ew, I’ve just made myself feel uncomfortable in my own body—”

Legolas gasped brightly, and met your eyes again. This was where you saw how dilated they were.

“CAN I BORROW YOUR BODY INSTEAD?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your waist. “THAT’S A BRILLIANT IDEA! And I know how to go inside, too, so it’ll all feel much better soon—”

“Are you high on…Stardust?!” you exclaimed, removing his hands from your waist.

Legolas blinked down at you rapidly for a few seconds, before slowly answering.

“No…?”

“I can’t believe it,” you seethed. Pushing past Legolas, you glared down at your laughing brother. “You’re absolutely deplorable, Francis! Don’t even THINK about showing up to the wedding!”

You tore up his invitation, and threw it down onto the ground below. You next began shoving a reluctant Legolas out of the house.

Fortunately, once he felt the pine needles on his feet (he was barefoot, for some reason), he gasped loudly and took off running.

“LOOK HOW GREEN IT IS!” he exclaimed. “HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW GREEN IT IS? THE COLOURS ARE BURSTING RIGHT NOW ALL AROUND ME. I feel as though it’s sort of designed in my honour, you know? As in, nature really understands—SQUIRREL—what my name means.”

You rubbed your temples with a grinding of your teeth, as you watched your husband sprint off to climb a tree, where he beckoned you to join.

Growling, you spoke lowly under your breath.

“This is going to be a long ride home…”

Hearing a strangled yelp, you noticed that Legolas had already fallen out of the tree. You sighed, and began walking over—already knowing your words to be true.

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