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delimeful · 2 months

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a still-glowing ember (3)

warnings: panic, guilt, injury mention, mentions of assumed character death (mistaken), arguing, lmk if i missed any

Virgil had spent nearly half the night attempting to coax the sprite’s spark back into something resembling a healthy state, feeling his stress levels spike unbearably with every pained twitch his unconscious patient had made. Working to heal someone that small, even with the assistance of magic, was no simple feat. It had been hours of exacting, meticulous work that had left him exhausted.

So, naturally, mere moments after Virgil finally called the job done, crawled into bed, and managed to fall asleep, the little idiot woke up and started shrieking loud enough to wake the dead.

Virgil had left the sprite on an extra pillow next to him, one of his hands cupped over the tiny figure to monitor any sudden changes in temperature, which basically meant that he’d gotten an unwanted earful at close range.

For someone who’d barely been able to string two words together before, the sprite certainly had a set of lungs on him. Stars almighty, that was loud.

“Will you cut that out?” he groaned with his face still half-mushed into his pillow, only earning himself an alarmed, shrill whistle-chirp and frantic scrabbling under his hand in response. Ugh. Sprites.

Did the guy not remember Virgil literally going to embarrassing lengths to save his life a handful of hours ago, or something?

Well. Actually, thinking back, he was pretty sure the sprite had been more-or-less unconscious at that point, only latching onto Virgil’s proffered magic after much nudging and coaxing of that terrifyingly unresponsive form. Maybe he actually didn’t recall any of that.

In that case, he had a little more sympathy. Not enough to keep him from pushing up onto his elbows and sending the noisy creature a nasty glare, but enough that he didn’t jump directly to mostly-facetious threats on the sprite’s life. See? Forget what everyone who’d ever met him had said, he was a master of restraint and compassion.

“Seriously, pipe down. I’m trying to sleep over here.” Okay, so not that much compassion.

The sprite’s wings were aggressively fluffed up behind him, meaning they hadn’t turned into frostbitten hunks of flesh and fallen off in the night, which was good. Virgil knew elemental beings were far more resistant to physical damage than most mortal types were, but feeling someone so iced-over always brought around that old panic anyhow.

Mostly assured that the sprite wasn’t going to keel over the moment he wasn’t in contact with him, Virgil retracted his hand entirely, leaving the sprite sprawled out on the pillow, breathing hard as his bedraggled feathers puffed up further. Virgil shifted into his fluffier form, as though his fur coat would chase away even the memory of the chill, and curled up more firmly, wrapping his tail around his paws. If he could just get a few more minutes of rest…

“I’ve been abducted,” the sprite said to himself, the words starting as a near whisper and slowly growing to a near wail. “I was nearly frozen, hunted for sport, and now I’ve been kidnapped away for my transgressions!”

Uggghh. He shifted back, mostly for ease of speech, and rolled his eyes when the sprite tried to scramble back and mostly just tripped over himself.

“I didn’t kidnap you,” he grumbled, turning his head to stare with one half-lidded eye. “I basically saved your life, actually, so maybe you should be a little more gracious.”

“Gracious?!” the sprite echoed in a shriek that was far too high-pitched for Virgil’s sleep deprivation-fried brain. “I’m fairly certain you threatened to end my life, not preserve it!”

Now, that much was probably true. Even if he hadn’t meant it, he certainly might have said something along those lines. He tended to get a little snappish when he was irritated, and also when it was cold out, and also when people bothered him in his own damn territory.

In short, the sprite had been dealt an extremely unlucky hand last night, in regards to Virgil specifically. And… intentional or not, he had almost gotten the tiny idiot killed.

He still remembered how his spiteful satisfaction at scaring the living daylights out of a rude intruder had slowly begun to shift into a creeping feeling of dread as the sprite utterly failed to do anything resembling normal flying, let alone escaping. The moment his fingers had wrapped around that ice-cold frame, the apprehension had abruptly firmed into the certainty that something was terribly wrong.

No creature of fire should ever feel so still and icy, especially not a lively, quick-burning sprite.

Virgil’s ears pressed flat against his skull, his guilt swamping him again. He supposed he probably at least owed the guy an explanation. Uuuuggghhhh.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he told the sprite, tucking his hands under himself in an act of goodwill. “I know we got off on the wrong foot—,”

“The wrong foot?! An upside-down centipede has less wrong feet than our meeting!” the sprite screeched, continuing to be far more verbose when he wasn’t in the middle of freezing to death. Funny how that worked.

“Okay, fine,” Virgil cut in. “I heavily implied that I was going to murder you, but in my defense, I had no idea you were actually in a prime state to be murdered at the time, and also I’d been having a really bad night.”

The sprite stared at him like he was insane, and Virgil felt his shoulders rise to hunch up around his ears. This was why he didn’t talk to people.

“You had a bad night?!” the sprite asked in a near-shout, his tone incredulous.

The indignant question was accompanied by a twitch of movement, like the sprite had attempted to throw his arms up in an exasperated gesture only to find one limb restrained. He looked down at the sling around his injured arm, blinking in bewilderment.

“Okay, that one wasn’t my fault,” Virgil protested preemptively. “You were already like that when I— hey, hey! Don’t jostle it, jeez!”

He reached forward despite himself, gently batting the sprite’s hand away from the sling. Naturally, he earned himself a buffeting slap from one of those tiny wings for his good deed, but going by the horrified stare the sprite sent his own appendage, Virgil was fairly sure the motion had been entirely instinctual.

“Seriously, don’t mess with that,” he instructed, slowly withdrawing once it became clear that the sprite had gone stock-still with fear. “It took me ages to put together a sling that tiny, let alone tie it. Just leave it be.”

The sprite’s face pinched with uncertainty. “You made this? Why?”

There it was, the exact question he’d been trying to avoid. Great, just great.

He shrugged, faux-casual. “Maybe I just didn’t want some random pesky sprite dropping dead in my stretch of woods. Bad for the decor or whatever.”

The sprite narrowed his eyes at him, clearly not buying it.

“Look,” Virgil said, trying to head off the accusations of nefarious plots that he could practically see on the tip of the sprite’s tongue, “I clearly could have murdered you, and I didn’t, so can we just agree to not ask any more questions and part ways as unfriendly strangers?”

“What did you mean, you were having a bad night?” the sprite asked, apparently deciding to completely ignore Virgil’s very reasonable suggestion.

“I mean, I was having a bad night,” Virgil repeated with the slightest growl to the words. “I got robbed by annoying pixies twice, and now I’m going to have to go repair those boundary markers and make sure that nothing snuck in while they were down, which means I’ll have to waste a whole day just scouring the forest when I have winter supplies to be storing—,”

“Twice?” the sprite echoed, face pinching even further into a confused frown. “I only stole one boundary marker— and under severe duress, with all intention of returning the pilfered power once I had recovered at home!”

Virgil rolled his eyes, ignoring the tacked-on excuses. “Yeah, but you were the second sprite to do that. Like, my bad for thinking both times were you, but in my defense, the other sprite looked pretty damn similar—,”

“There was another sprite?” the sprite interrupted again, and this time he didn’t even seem to notice Virgil’s annoyed growl, his entire body gone tense with a sudden sharp focus. “You’re sure?”

Virgil frowned, a foreboding feeling creeping up on him. “Yeah, especially with what you just said. In hindsight, there were signs that the two of you were different. You were tripping over your words, while the first guy nearly woke the whole forest with all the maniacal shrieking laughter.”

“Remus,” the sprite whispered with wide eyes, his hands fisting in the loose fabric of the pillow. “Did you see which way he went?”

For the first time, he was leaning toward Virgil, practically hanging on his every word as he sought the answer.

“I dunno, north-ish?” Virgil replied, ears flicking back in slight bewilderment. “I wasn’t exactly close enough to catch him. What, do you know the guy or— woah! What are you doing?”

The sprite had pushed himself to his feet in one determined motion, and now pinwheeled, trying to keep his balance atop the soft surface of the pillow. His wings were lifting sluggishly into position, like he actually thought the ragged limbs would carry him anywhere in his current state.

Virgil hovered a hand nearby, prepared to catch the idiot when he want toppling down, but the sprite ducked away.

“I’m going to go find my brother,” the sprite spat, looking as though he’d like nothing better than for Virgil to try and stop him. “He’s out there, alone!”

The sense of foreboding doubled. The odds of a fire sprite, even one ballsy enough to steal three territory markers, surviving a winter storm all through the night were extremely low.

“If you go out there in this state, the only thing you’ll accomplish is crashing and dislocating your other shoulder,” he warned, trying to soften the bite in his voice as much as possible. “The forest is huge. There’s no way you’ll find him, wherever he is.”

Whatever condition he’s in, Virgil didn’t add, because even he had some tact.

“I don’t care,” the sprite said, chin lifted stubbornly as he started taking wobbly steps down the side of the pillow, heading for the edge of the bed. “He’s my brother. I’m not going to just abandon him!”

Virgil groaned. There was virtually no way the other sprite was alive, but there was no point telling his guest that, not when the tremble to his chin showed that he was already well aware, and determined to see this through anyhow.

…At the very least, anyone who’d lost family deserved the closure of finding their body.

The sprite reached the edge of the bed and surveyed the drop, lifting his shaking wings into position to catch the den’s still air the best they could.

With a sigh, Virgil reached out and wrapped his hand around the sprite before he could jump, lifting him up into the air despite his furious protests.

“What’s your name?” he asked, and the non-sequitur was enough to grab the sprite’s attention for at least a moment.

“It’s Roman,” he snapped, and the way his wings were smacking at Virgil’s hand in protest were entirely purposeful, this time. “Now, let me go—!”

“Okay, Roman, look. You’re going to get yourself killed if you go alone,” Virgil informed him. “And seeing as I just spent a ridiculous amount of time preventing your untimely demise, I’ll be really irritated if you kick the bucket now.”

Roman’s face screwed up with clear anger, but before he could start shouting, Virgil set him down solidly on his shoulder, making sure that he was well balanced before releasing him.

“So,” he continued, swinging his legs around to stand himself, “if you promise not to yell directly in my ear, I guess I can keep all that hard work from going to waste by going with you.”

He could practically hear the way Roman’s brain ground to a halt, struggling to shift gears. “You’re going to help me?”

Virgil shrugged his unoccupied shoulder, heading for his den’s entryway. “Might as well. It’s not like it’ll be too difficult to track down the scent, if he smells anywhere near as strong as you.”

Roman laughed, a short, surprised bark. “He— Trust me, he’s much worse.”

“Ugh, great,” Virgil replied with a wrinkle of his nose, and tried not to think about what they’d do whenever they did find whatever was left of Roman’s brother.

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts roman #asge #a still glowing ember #my writing #writing

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bitegore · 4 months

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I’ve been wanting to get a cane for a good while now, but something in the back of my mind just feels weird about it in a way I can’t quite kill off. I have broad pectus excavatum, which compresses my heart and lungs to a certain degree. This affects my tolerance for exercise and makes me exhausted from simple things like getting up and using stairs. Doctors say that my heart isn’t compressed enough to have a tangible effect on my day-to-day life, but I still feel like it does. And my sister gets on my case for even speculating about having a disability that I haven’t been diagnosed with because she fried herself on Reddit r/fakedisability discourse and thinks I’m doing it for attention, so I don’t even know what her reaction would be to getting a cane. I guess I just don’t feel disabled enough for a mobility aid, even though intellectually I know that I can do whatever I want forever… I’m worried its some form of internalized ableism that I’ll have to unpack, lol. Idk, can you relate? Do you need to get a cane from a medical professional?

Ah, I can't say I relate - my issues are very, very different - but I know for a fact you can get a cane in places like Walgreens and CVS (and if you're outside the US, likely at other pharmacy type convenience stores as well). You'll have to pay out of pocket for them and they're not custom-made for your issues, but my mom bought one from CVS when I was a kid and it helped her out when she had issues with her ankles. So that's one issue down.

I would say to ignore your sister + if she can't mind her fucking business you can always lie and say a doctor or some other medical professional or w/e told you you could get it if you thought it'd be helpful. But I really don't think her response should be... idk, relevant? Like you said, she's fried her brain on r/fakedisability and anything she says is going to be unhelpful and stupid.

"Disabled enough for a mobility aid" is. How do I put this. There is no such thing as 'disabled enough' for a mobility aid to Society, the message is always that you can try harder unless you literally cannot move at all and if you have even the slightest amount of mobility you shouldn't use a mobility aid at all. So it's a losing game no matter what. Instead I figure if you think it'll help you, get a cheap cane and find out how to adjust it to fit you, see if it'll help, and if it doesn't help then like idk see if you can give it to someone who'll need it. You'll never know if you don't try and you'll never satisfy the question if you don't find out, I figure. If you don't have the funds for it then that's irrelevant but a bunch of these are like, $25, that seems about reasonable to me.

I don't think I'm really the guy to ask about this, but like, idk I am on the "do whatever you want forever" train and it sounds like this is something you at least want to try. So I think you should try it. And if it works out then you should probably look into getting a real deal cane that is actually suited for you and won't hurt your hands or wrists, because I know that can be an issue with the cheaper canes, but then you'll be able to have an easier time with walking and stuff, and if it doesn't work out then you know it's not what you need.

#submission #red replies

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em-dash-press · 1 year

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Why is writing so hard? Am I just doing a process that doesn’t work for me because I keep quitting stores and I keep hating how things go

I hate the process I want to create but right now it’s so hard to be motivated to write to discipline myself and not hate writing so much right now I have to discipline instead of enjoy and then stress. I’m getting so stressed trying to finish the stories because I never finish and all I can get is frustrated with the damn process

This kind of continual creative defeat is really tough to deal with. It’s hard not to take it personally and judge yourself for not writing effortlessly while enjoying every second.

Instead of offering advice like reading a book or restructuring your work, I want to look into what’s happening in our brains when we write. I often have more grace for myself when I understand how my mind works outside of emotions and exhaustion.

When you start writing a new story, the brain becomes more active. It establishes new neural pathways to process things and learn from the experience.

The same research shows that writing can activate eight parts of your brain at the same time. Eight! Each is responsible for things like memory recall, emotional processing, visualization, problem solving and focusing.

Feeling like you hate writing even though you want to create might mean that your brain is literally, physically exhausted.

It’s okay to stop writing.

Completely.

I had to do that for most of college when my brain felt fried. I hated the idea of thinking of stories, much less writing them.

The joy of the craft will come back to you when your brain is ready to jump back into things.

In the meantime, save your stories. You never know which will turn into fully finished manuscripts eventually. They can hang out in a folder or on your desktop while you rest.

#writing advice #writing encouragement #writeblr #writers of tumblr #creative writing #writing burnout #burnout

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captaininejghafa · 1 year

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Some incoherent SaB S2 thoughts

EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING SOOO MUCH:

Look, I liked the season but once it was over I was genuinely ... exhausted??? I read all the books so honestly I'm curious how non-readers feel about the show, because I think my brain just automatically filled some stuff in (oops) It just felt like they wanted to wrap up too much too soon

I loved all the Wesper content we got!!! Also Jesper was absolutely ROCKING that skirt??? Hell yes!

but... wth was up with Tamar and Nadia ?? They got some sitting next to each other, glances, hand touching WHERE IS MY LESBIAN SNOGGING HEELLOOO!!???!! (yes, I'm lesbian and bitter about how they got treated)

At this point I'm not too mad about how different plots got intertwined and re-done. It's a netflix show, they treat their shows like shit (sudden cancelling) so I think a lot of the rushed soc integration was well intended on the show runners part. However, I totally understand why a lot of people aren't happy/satisfied with it.

Idk my brain is fried after those 8 hours, and I literally already slept over it so I don't think my opinions are going to be more coherent any time soon.

#sab #tamar x nadia #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wesper

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wexhappyxfew · 1 year

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well this is it; final exam for orgo today and i’m trying to have a positive attitude but my brain is quite literally fried and i am exhausted beyond compare so …. manifesting the good vibes

#shannon stuff #to be done with ochem 1 will be a dream #and i won’t think about ochem 2 until i need to (next semester but i can’t focus on that)#🤪🤞✨ hopefully a slay

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princelouisau · 1 year

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ahhh sorry i'm late w it, i've been a mess these last few days! which isn't that different from most other days but oh well

also that's crazy, i literally think the internet is rotting the children's brains and making them forget how you're supposed to act in public. not even children actually i see straight up fully grown adults acting this way and im' always like,, babe maybe u need some distance from twitter because threatening people and being up their business that much is not normal !! seek help !!

anyway sorry for the rant. your gf sounds like an angel! reflects really well on them and you too that they're willing to do that for you :)

also i looooove asian dipping sauces, any of the soy sauce based ones for dumplings are so good 😭 but if it's for fries i really love chipotle mayo or garlic aioli, they really slay. not a ranch or mustard girlie, those are more popular in yeehaw places not me though !

sorry this is really long again, someone at work pissed me off and i'm a bit wound up rn !! i literally hate depending on other people to do my job, it's exhausting :(

qotd is: what are you most looking forward to in 2023?

I’M sorry for not responding again 😭😭😭 i had a really really bad day yesterday but i’m doing a bit better today, i’m sorry if this response is terrible still (and your messages are never too long! i’m sorry work is bad for you rn :( will fight that person) your rant was so correct btw shshs

right now i don’t have a lot coming up in 2023! but i’m going to see ateez which i think i’m most excited for rn :’) other than that i’m looking forward to hopefully getting my life in order shdkdj i really hope it will be my year because i’ll be 25 and i can’t still be jobless and poor, my new kpop era requires too much money lmao

what about you? sorry again this was such a small response 😭 hope you’re having a better day today ♥️

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wrapped-up · 2 years

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alright. if this one somehow gets erased i’m genuinely going to cry. 🌙

hi friend! how are you! how are you doing! it’s been a while! my god i’m getting deja vu this is the third time writing this but also i still have so many feelings so lets go.

okay, to start off. there are a few things i would like to say to you.

first thing: i want you to know that you posted chapter 20 of WNWTC quite literally 10 minutes before i clocked into work. i have not read anything so quickly in my entire life oh my fucking god

second thing: in light of reading and absorbing (as much as one CAN absorb 5000 words in the space of 10 minutes whilst sitting in the car park behind their workplace) the fic, i proceeded to then think about them quite literally through my entire shift. so if i somehow get flagged up for negligence at work or something because i was too busy thinking about remus and sirius.. well, technically thats your fault

third thing: my brain, after this shift, proceeded to be absolutely fried and bollocksed both in the 40 degree weather and just in life and so i quite literally didn’t get chance to reread the chapter and be able to truly absorb it until, like, right this second. well i say that but it was actually about an hour and a half ago now because i’ve written this THREE TIMES

fourth thing: right now probably isn’t the best time to do this because it’s midnight and i’m exhausted and i’ve written these exact words twice but i don’t care i just skimmed the chapter again and i am going to yell at you for it

OKAY SO. this chapter was PERFECTIONNNN. it was so good! so cathartic and lovely and wonderful and relieving after so fucking long. oh my god, remus’s bravery and his energy and determination to just fucking Ask sirius after so long felt so cathartic and then. THE BOARD MEETING. honestly you never disappoint with the confession scenes they’re always so brilliant! but i also kinda really loved the symbolism of remus finally professing his entire heart and soul in front of all of the people from the company that has essentially kept him from doing that for so long. there was something so wonderfully exciting about that and i was sitting there SCREECHING and rooting for him so badly. it’s kinda like, they’ve been hiding their love for so long the perception of it was exhilarating. absolutely perfect scene

and then! the conversations that happened afterwards! all of the witty banter and dialogue and flirtation, it was sooo good it was like a dam had been let loose and everything that has been so (wonderfully) frustrating about these two was just coming to the surface. i particularly loved the conversation they had over breakfast, and sirius saying “So shall we just cut the crap, Remus? Cut the crap, be together, make each other happy.” He folds his arms, as if to say ‘There! Your move, Lupin.’” ! it was so straightforward and blunt and it was just what they needed tbh. like, you cant stay away from me and i cant stay away from you. so what are you going to do about it?

everything was just. wonderful. there was no more fucking around (well. except for in the literal sense) (which was also magnificent) and the flirting was SO GOOD. the dialogue! i’ve said this before but you do dialogue like no other, honestly you should win an award for it or something. you make your characters feel so real and genuine and personable, even the silly little side characters! i think in both the wake of the pandemic and the whole social era we’re in nowadays when everything is a bit fake and glossy and people that you meet on the street or workers or servers or chefs aren’t treated as people with real thoughts and feelings but as accessories to your own life problems that you are so wrapped up (HA that wasn’t even intentional i swear) in. it’s kind of silly maybe to compare these things considering that. well, these characters really Are fake but what i’m saying is i think it’s really refreshing to be able to see real people just doing their normal real people things in your characters. they’re so personable and all of it comes down to your wit and your skill and i really applaud you for that.

in the space between me writing my first ask and the other two i saw that other anon you replied to who talked about hby. what they said about how i know you didn’t write this for me and i am just a stranger but it’s so nice to see them feel the things i feel and do the things i do is probably a better way of explaining it. and again, in the wake of the world atm that’s just… comforting i suppose.

okay this is entirely too long and i’m so sorry… oh GOSH it’s so long!!!! i waffled a lot i’m sorry! but thank you for your words! i also wanted to say in regards to that other anon, please don’t feel the need to reply quickly nor in detail to this if you don’t have the spoons to do so and also that i guess i hope you know how many people feel just like that person does. i know i do and my friends (including ⭐) do.

have a lovely day/night whenever you read this, 🌙🌙🌙🌙

Hello darling 🌙

I can't tell you how privileged it makes me feel that you persevered despite multiple deletions of your ask. And it's still so long and delicious! Truly, you are an asset to the fandom and I'm very lucky to have you come back, time and time again!

I am okay, thank you. Bit covidy. Bit sad about it. But mostly fine. I'm just watching sport and being pathetic/unwashed/whingey while also demanding cuddles from my begrudging cats and husband (who gave it to me).

Thank you for your lovely words. I will take full responsibility for any of your shortcomings at work. And it's so lovely to hear from you!

Please never apologise for long asks. They are the best thing everrrr!

You're the best.

A x

#we never went to church #wnwtc

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kyunsies · 2 years

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goodnight <3

#🌙#today was so long i’m so happy our class got cancelled tomorrow ;______;#like i said earlier i took an exam today and i was nervous about it but i got an 82% which i know i can do better but i’m content with it :)#after my exam we had a looong lecture on sepsis/shock which is always interesting to me but it was literally so long after i fried my brain-#taking that exam KDJJD so i was just exhausted :’) and then after that me and 2 friends went to an elementary school to teach kindergarten #kiddos how to not spread germs for our service learning project and that took a good 2 hours ….. just really tired :’)#but i can rest tomorrow before clinical so it’s all good <3 #i hope everyone had a lovely day and if not tomorrow will be better promise !!!!#goodnight and sleep well !!! 💞💕💖💓💘💗

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emmyrosee · 2 years

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Random thoughts #34 (00:19)

This got so long oh my god- also, natural light is one of the cheap, frat-bro beers around here, I couldn’t not-

Kuroo has deep, deep dimples that only come out when he laughs really, really hard.

And I mean more than those cackles that he has. More than general amusement. More than inappropriate jokes at bad times that make so many people in your friend group cry and clutch their sides in agony for their laughter.

And you try everything- one of his friends from high school tells you that the space just below the hollows under his arms are the most ticklish spot on his body, you try shitty dad jokes that you’ve been passed down from your friends, you try videos of kids doing stupid things, anything that makes you cackle, you try with him.

But he doesn’t let you tickle him without a fight. Sometimes, he finishes the dad joke with a satisfied smirk. And on occasion, he just cracks a smile at the video and says “that’s awesome,” before turning back to his homework.

You start to think they’re a myth, he doesn’t have dimples at all, and you’re just left like an idiot trying to find this magical feature of his, and pray he doesn’t call you out on why you’re trying so hard to make him laugh.

But then, you order Chinese take out, and you’ve cracked the code.

It’s two in the morning, you’ve both been studying for far too long, and you beg for him to please order something for dinner that isn’t cheese curls and granola bars. You feel exhausted, and he reflects that in his appearance: he’s drunk on caffeine and shots of energy drinks. The bags under his eyes make him look infinitely older, his hair tousled and greasy at the lack of a shower. His brain is fried, but it’s finals, and he can rest after.

The only place that’s open is the shady Chinese food place on campus, it’s always open, yet somehow, you’ve never seen anyone inside of it and any point of the day- or night, for that matter. You settle, and he promises to treat you to something more exciting when you’re both recovered from finals.

And you’re both shoveling fried rice and vegetables into your mouths, eating like ferocious beasts who haven’t been fed in months (it’s only been days, but god, you could’ve been fooled), and there’s a few jokes and a couple of alcoholic drinks that he’s made you.

And he cracks open a Natural Light.

“Oh my god, don’t even tell me you bought that,” you snort, choking on a bite of beef and broccoli. He cocks his head in confusion, and you point, you actually point and laugh at him. “Where the hell did you find that in this neck of the woods!”

A shy smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, “I… heard it was popular on campuses, I thought I’d give it a try.”

“Kuroo, they make memes about that beer!” You cackle, willing yourself to swallow as you laugh. “You’re literally the embodiment of the frat guy they warned me about on those Instagram pages- oh my god, I’m gonna pee!”

“Jesus, fuck, stop laughing at me,” he snorts, moreso laughing at your reactions to him than your teases.

“Oh my god, how are you going to spend thousands on housing and take me to dinner every weekend, then buy Natty Light!” You continue, “What, you going to sue the professor if he fails me, too?”

“That’s what they call it? Ew!” He asks, his head tossing back against the couch.

And it’s not funny, it’s literally the stupidest joke you could have made, but you’re both so exhausted and burned out, your brains are so fried that you can do nothing but laugh at each other, cackling and wheezing when the other snorts, slamming his feet into the floor and tears of mirth clinging to your lashes.

And finally, when you look up, there they are.

Dimples, settled happily in the center of his cheeks and enhanced by the stretched grin that forces itself on his face. He must know they’re there, because he smacks a hand over his face to hide his cheeks and mouth, much to your dismay.

“Don’t you dare!” You scold, quickly crawling on his lap and moving the beer can from his hand. You’re grinning too, giggling less than before, but he looks so childish, so carefree from laughing so hard, you just want to relish in it more.

He’s shaking his head no, his hands covering his face and firmly too, as you try to pry his hands from him. He’s still laughing, he can’t stop, and if he could, they’d go away, but he can’t, he’s nervous and shy and you’re not helping, and you’re trying so hard to get them free-

You fall silent when you finally manage to move his hands away, two big wrists encircled by your smaller fingers. His gawfs settle to little giggles, his beet red face slowly settles to a dusting of his cheeks, and when he finally manages to look up at you, through his glassy eyes, his stomach flips to see you looking at him like that.

Like he’d sewn the stars in the sky, he could cure the sick and heal wounded puppies. Your hands cup his cheeks and stroke longingly at the newly shown dips of his face, gaze like love and adoration and like a perfect future with him never breaking with his golden irises.

Did you always do that?

Just as quick as they came, his dimples were stolen from your enjoyment, his face dropping at the predicament you two were in from the heat of the moment. You’re close, so close- Christ, you smelt good- and he’s scared to move, scared you’ll realize it too and get uncomfortable if he does.

“Uhm-“

“How dare you go around being so cute, and not let me indulge!” You scold, but you’re grinning and kissing the hollows where his dimples just were, eliciting more choked laughs and snickers from him. It tickles, and that doesn’t help his laughter, but he was more relieved to see you were far from deterred at the closeness- instead, you seemed to relish in it, and it made him weak and stupid and god, what did you do to him?

Large paws settle on your waist, and he stretches his smile back out widely in an attempt to make his dimples appear once again for you to enjoy for as long as you’d wished.

Yes. For your sake only. Of course.

#UGH IM ANXIOUS BUT I LOVE HIM #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader fluff #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader #kuroo tetsuro haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x gn!reader #hq #hq fluff #hq imagine #hq x gn!reader

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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

Text

Time For Bed (Lucifer x GN!Reader) FLUFF

Random Lucifer fluff! I write about going to sleep way too much considering I barely get any sleep myself. Holy shit I think I'm projecting onto the characters. WHOOPS!

Anywhooooo

Word Count : 1.7K

Warnings : Nothing. Just fluff and soft tired Lucifer

How long had you been laying in bed waiting for him to come up to see you? A few minutes? Hours? You turned to look at the clock on the nightstand, rolling your eyes as another minute ticked by. “Dammit, Lucifer…” You groaned, kicking the blankets off as you got out of the bed. He was probably still working on some shit that Lord Diavolo had made him do, or he was passed out at his desk. Either way, he was overworking himself and you hated that he did it so often. There wasn’t a moment that the two of you could be alone, whether he was working in his office or dealing with his brothers, there was never a time where you could actually be together.

“Lucifer…” You mumbled his name as you tapped your knuckles against the wooden door of his office, letting your head rest against it as you waited for him to respond. You weren’t even tired when you had gone up to the room, but just waiting for him made you sleepy, and the thought of how much work he had to do made you exhausted. You could only imagine how he felt having to actually do it, and he deserved a break, or at least a comfortable bed to actually fall asleep in. “Come up to bed, please.” Your hand slid down the door and landed on the doorknob, still waiting for him to answer, or literally say anything or even mumble… just a noise.

“Work… have to work…” He grumbled from behind the door and you could hear the lack of emotion in his voice. The man was beyond tired, beyond exhausted, and he was still pushing himself to keep going. It wasn’t okay, and if you weren’t terrified of the repercussions, you’d have a word with Diavolo about making Lucifer do his work for him. “Go to bed, dear… I’ll be up soon…” Which you knew was bullshit. It was already two in the morning, and he woke up early too, the least he could do is try to get a little bit of sleep and rest his head on an actual pillow instead of a stack of papers.

You sighed loudly outside the door, mentally telling yourself that you wouldn’t leave without him. He wouldn’t leave the office though, not with you standing outside of the door, so you quickly pushed it open, crossing your arms as you finally took in the sight of him. His hair was disheveled and his eyelids were heavy. You could only imagine how many cups of coffee he had drank to stay up this late, and even though you knew nothing could actually happen to him, you still didn’t want him to get ill. “You can’t keep staying up like this. It’s not good for you.” You shut the door behind you before going over to his desk, shaking your head when you saw the full cup of black coffee right next to him. “You need sleep, Lucifer.”

He hummed quietly, but never dropped the pen from his fingers, scribbling across the papers in front of him and you weren’t even sure if he was actually writing legibly or if he was just making little squiggle lines at this point. Nothing made what he was doing worth it, and you weren’t just going to leave the office, not without him. You walked around the desk, grabbing his arm and giving it a light tug to try to get his attention. “Hmph… You don’t need to watch me. I’ll be up when I can.” He pulled his arm away, rolling his shoulders before going back to working on the paper in front of him.

“I’ll just stay here until you’re done, then.” You huffed loudly as you walked back around to one of the arm chairs across from his desk, flopping down in it and crossing your arms across your chest. Were you tired? Yes, but if he wasn’t going to get to bed, you weren’t either. It didn’t make any sense in the long run, and by the end of all of this, you’d both be exhausted because he was too prideful to say that you were right and actually leave, and you were too persistent to just give it up and let it go.

He finally looked up from his desk, tsking his tongue and staring at you as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re being ridiculous. What is both of us losing sleep going to do?” You weren’t actually sure what the answer to that question is because honestly, you both were just going to be extra tired by morning, and you knew that he already knew that, so there was no point in you saying it. So you shrugged, giving him a little smirk as if you knew something that he didn’t about your miraculous plan to pull an all-nighter with him, but he wasn’t a fool, and he wasn’t going to fall for whatever it was that you were doing. “Is there an actual reason that you need me right now?”

There were a lot of reasons you felt like you needed him right now, some of them didn’t actually include using the bed for its intended purpose, but you still needed him in the bed to do what you were thinking. The other reason was… well… you missed him. You missed being able to curl up into his chest and cocoon he and yourself in his blankets as you both dozed off. It seemed like it had been forever since you had done something like that with him, just having an intimate moment together in private, in silence. You were able to just enjoy… him… and being with him. It might not have been a lot to him, but it meant a lot to you. “I can’t sleep…” It wasn’t lying, because in a sense, you did find it harder to fall asleep without him in the bed with you, but it was also partially because you stayed up waiting for him every night even though he told you to get some sleep before he came up because it would be a while.

He let out a small chuckle, pushing his chair away from the desk as he got up, shaking his head. “You made this whole thing about me when it was you who couldn’t sleep. I think I have something for that…” Your eyes narrowed as you watched him walk to the bookshelf that lined the wall. What was he going to do? Was there a spell that would knock you out, or did he have a secret bottle of Z-Quil hidden in the pages of one of his books? That wasn’t the main thing though, what you couldn’t stop thinking about was how absolutely clueless he was, or at least, pretended to be. How could he not piece everything that you had said together? Maybe his brain was fried from working so much that he was unable to pick up the hints that you were dropping.

With a loud sigh, you got up from your own seat and walked over to him, grabbing his hand as he reached for a book. “I can’t sleep because you’re not there…” You didn’t actually want to put it so bluntly, it was kind of embarrassing to admit things like that, especially to him. You watched his face, waiting for his reaction, and as you watched him you could have sworn that you saw his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. His hand dropped as he turned to look at you completely, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the usual smile you’d receive for something like this, usually he’d be smug and smirk at you while giving a witty, subtle remark about how he knows just the way to help get you to sleep. This time was different though, and it was most likely due to him being so tired.

“What kind of demon would I be to deny my darling a good night's sleep?” The question kind of threw you off because in terms of demons… he’d be a pretty good one to make you not have a good night’s sleep, but you knew what he meant and you didn’t want to ruin the moment by being a smartass. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you lightly to bring you closer to him as he leaned in to rest his forehead against your own. “Let’s get some sleep. I guess we both need it.” You hummed quietly in response, and once his hands were dropped you reached out to grab one of his to lead him out of the office. If you turned your back on him and started walking by yourself, he’d probably go back to his desk and continue working, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

Both of your movements were slow, your feet practically dragged across the floor as you walked up the stairs to his room. The fact that neither of you fell or tripped up the stairs or ran into anything is shocking considering both of you could barely keep your eyes open. By the time you were in the room all you wanted to do was fall into the bed with him, cover up, and pass out. “Are you gonna-” You hadn’t had time to finish your question, which probably didn’t matter at the moment, but you knew it would be uncomfortable for him to fall asleep in what he was wearing, but apparently he didn’t care, or he was just too tired to care right then.

He fell face first onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. It didn’t take long for the soft sound of snoring to fill the room, and the sound of it made you smile to yourself. He was finally getting some decent sleep, and if anyone deserved it, it was him. You climbed into the bed next to him, pulling the covers up around you as your eyes started to fully close. You’d both get a good night’s sleep together, and that’s all you really wanted.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! swd #om! swd #om! shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x mc #om! x reader #om! x mc #obey me gn!mc #obey me Lucifer #om! Lucifer #obey me Lucifer x reader #obey me Lucifer x mc #lucifer avatar of pride

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.”

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting.

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt.

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

* * *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold.

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

* * *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours.

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper.

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity.

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.”

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life.

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me.

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat

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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.

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