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#some good stuff too! my friends are lovely! but still stuff. and coursework.
fudgecake-charlie · 6 months
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sluttyten · 9 months
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You In My Arms
Chapter 1: The Tourist
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full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index
summary: Haechan doesn’t mind being a background character in someone else’s love story as long as he gets a front row seat to the love scenes. He’s in university, still learning about himself, still exploring his sexuality, and during his last year, he finally experiences an awakening, realizing a truth about himself: he likes to watch
length: 11,045
tags: slowburn, friends to lovers, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (public & in private), general perversion, smut
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Haechan’s first real heartbreak happens when he’s at university.
The girl he has a giant crush on – she’s the most gorgeous girl he’s seen at their university, like a model with her perfect body that draws the attention of every red-blooded straight man on campus – kisses one of Haechan’s friends right in front of him. 
It’s not a peck, not a chaste kiss, not even a kiss in a game of truth or dare (though they do play that game regularly at their small parties, at the nights at Mark’s rented house, spent drinking themselves numb after a rough week). It’s a kiss, like hands on cheeks, bodies pressed together, and the moment Haechan sees a flicker of tongue, he’s done.
“Okay, gross. We get it!” He says, and he wonders if his voice is actually as loud as it sounds in his ears. His heart is pounding, stomach lurching. 
Mark, Chenle, Jungwoo, some of the others are all laughing. Haechan’s face feels slack, stomach tight, palms sweaty as he looks at the bright smile on Shotaro’s face. Haechan feels that sharp bite of jealousy in his belly as she gravitates to stay by Shotaro’s side.
He ignores it. Ignores the jealousy he feels – because he has no claim on her heart; he’s never had the guts to confess his feelings to her – as the days and weeks pass by. Haechan buries himself in other girls, fucking his way through all the girls on the dorm floor beneath his until they all know him as a manwhore and want nothing more to do with him.
Desperately looking for anything to focus on other than the moon-eyes that Shotaro keeps shooting at the girl Haechan has spent so long lusting after, Haechan turns to a little good, old-fashioned fantasy material. He uses Twitter mostly, digging up some good content to watch and jerk off to, hiding himself in his bed at the dorm, thankful that his roommate is almost never home. 
His airpods, his phone, and a bottle of lube become his near-constant companions while he’s tucked away in the dorm room. It’s not a problem because he makes sure it isn’t one. He can still have sex with real women and distinguish what’s happening from the way things play out in the videos he watches online. He’s not delusional, okay?
But he does quickly learn a few things about himself. He unburies a few kinks he didn’t realize were a thing for him.
Like, getting caught jerking off by his roommate. That’s one that he didn’t realize he liked until it happened. His roommate doesn’t seem to care too much the first time he walks in on Haechan with his hand wrapped around his own cock. Even the second time, a week or two later, it’s no big deal. It happens. But when he walks into their dorm room and finds Haechan making direct eye contact with him as he cums, then it’s a bit much.
“Dude, get the fuck out,” his roommate had said, and Haechan had obeyed. 
It’s awkward after that, every time they encounter each other, so Haechan begins to spend a lot more time at the house a few of his friends rent together. Their sofa is always open, sometimes a few of them let him sleep in their beds whether they’re in them or not. He still crashes in his dorm sometimes because all of his stuff is still there, and when he needs to focus on his coursework, it’s always a lot easier to get done there than at the house. But things between him and his roommate remain tense. There are many nights, he just hangs out at the house until everyone kinda falls asleep, or until they ask him to just stay the night.
This is particularly easy on nights when everyone is over at the house. Their whole friend group gathered around the living room on the floor and sofas, on armchairs and bean bag chairs. Once the alcohol comes out, Haechan knows he’ll be fine to stay the night tonight, even if it means snuggling up on the sofa between YangYang and Xiaojun, neither of which live in the house either, but who both are likely to pass out from overindulging in drinks.
Sometimes, if Haechan is really lucky, she stays the night too, folding her beautiful self onto the sofa or an armchair. He’s watched her curl up in one of the armchairs, still clinging to a half-empty bottle when she falls asleep. He’s been lucky enough to be on the sofa with her one night, her head resting on his shoulder, and his shirt still smelling like her perfume the next day. 
Tonight, he watches as the party dwindles around him, as his friends that don’t live here slowly leave, until only a few people are left. She’s one of them, giggling at something Renjun’s telling her. Her eyes are shiny, dancing around the room to look at the last few members of the party – Jaemin and Jeno, both of whom live here, one of the girls in their friend group who spent the first part of the night teasing Haechan about his flubbed presentation in one of their shared classes, Shotaro, Chenle, Sungchan, and Haechan. She smiles when she meets his gaze, and his heart does a foolish little flutter.
But then Shotaro passes by, and her smile grows infinitely brighter.
Haechan loses track of her when Jaemin starts squawking about whatever game he’s just lost against Chenle, and when Haechan next looks up, she’s gone. He doesn’t see her again, so he figures she’s left for the night along with everyone else after a short while longer.
He curls comfortably on one of the sofas, dozing lightly until some sound drags him out of his dreams. A creak of floorboards, the sound of rushing water tinkling against the kitchen sink. 
Haechan sits up, squinting in the dim light. It’s still the middle of the night. Who the hell is up right now?
He twists around, looking in the direction of the kitchen, and what he sees there freezes him to his core.
There she is, an absolute vision.
A vision of her in another man’s shirt.
Haechan’s fingers curl against his blanket. Jealousy turns his stomach. She’s wearing Shotaro’s shirt, the holey band t-shirt that he brought over with him from Japan, the one that Haechan and Renjun have both insisted he get rid of. She’s wearing it. And if Haechan isn’t mistaken, the shadowy mark on her neck is a hickey.
Suddenly, a lot of different things make connections in his mind.
That kiss he’d witnessed between her and Shotaro, the one that everyone had thought was just the one time kiss. The moony eyes Shotaro’s been making at her since then. And many little things from the past few weeks. Many little things from just tonight – they’d both vanished for a while earlier during the movie, but Haechan had just assumed she’d gone upstairs where some of the guys were gaming; the way they’d sat so close together for most of the rest of the evening. But mostly, the way that they’d had similar truths about sex during a game of truth or dare someone had brought up; the way she’d vanished entirely tonight, just shortly before Shotaro had turned in for the night.
He doesn’t know what he plans to do, not really. Even as he pushes the blanket off of himself, as he rises to his feet and walks towards the kitchen, Haechan doesn’t know what his next move is.
She looks up, startled. Her eyes are wide, open and innocent in the darkness, frightened even.
One of her hands drifts down to the hem of the shirt, tugging it down a little. The other holds a glass of water.
Haechan can’t help drinking the sight of her in, even if she is wearing Shotaro’s shirt. He folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorway to look at her. Gorgeous. And her thighs are beautiful, he just wants to feel them against his hips, he wants to bite them and kiss them, feel them squeezing against the sides of his head as he – 
No. 
He can’t do any of that. None of that will happen with her because she’s with Shotaro in whatever capacity. And Haechan isn’t going to infringe on that no matter how he feels. 
So, in the moment, Haechan puts on a brave face and decides to call her out on it. “So, you and our innocent Shotaro, huh?”
The way that she holds his gaze in challenge is truthfully very hot. He watches the way that she gulps down her water, a stray drop spilling from the corner of her mouth, trailing along her face to her jaw. Haechan struggles not to imagine catching that water droplet on his tongue, tracing it back to her lips, kissing her until she completely forgets whose bed she’s left.
And then she walks towards him, and all he can smell is her perfume or her shampoo or body wash or whatever it is, he’s just enveloped in a cloud of her. It drives him a little wild, forcing him to look away from her before he does something really stupid like kiss her. Because she’s not his to kiss; it’s Shotaro’s lips that she’s had all over her tonight because up this close, Haechan can definitely see a hickey low on her throat, almost hidden by the neck of the t-shirt. 
He makes his accusation, putting it out there into the world just to see if she’ll deny it. Her and Shotaro. It doesn’t make sense, not to him. The boy is an innocent, or at least he was up until he claimed otherwise tonight. What does she see in him? How good of a lover could inexperienced Shotaro really be?
To Haechan’s surprise, she doesn’t deny what he’s figured out. She’s got a bold, sharp look in her eye, though she’s avoiding looking directly at him. She doesn’t deny a thing about his assumptions about her and Shotaro, instead she asks, in a quiet voice that crackles with a challenge, “Are you going to tell everyone?”
No, he’s not going to tell everyone. That would be really fucking stupid of him. She’d be furious, and he’d be ruining any chance of her ever wanting to speak to him again. Ruining any tiny chance that if this thing with Shotaro goes sideways, she might someday consider Haechan, even though deep down he knows that if he ever stood a chance with her, it would’ve already happened. She’s gorgeous, she’s not been celibate in the while that he’s known her, so if she’s avoided his company and has instead found herself in Shotaro’s then that’s probably where she’d like to be. 
He doesn’t know what brings him to do it. Doesn’t know why he lets his arm brush against hers because the moment that he feels how soft her skin is, how warm she is, his brain short-circuits a little, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m just glad Shotaro’s finally made his move. He’s had a crush on you since the first time he met you.” It’s the truth, but he’s not entirely sure why he’s telling her this right now. He can remember the first day that Renjun introduced Shotaro to all of them, the way that he’d fit right in, the way that she had come in at the last minute, running late because of something to do with the campus buses. She’d been windswept and a little sunburnt, wearing a sundress with one of the straps sliding over her shoulder.
She’d been enchanting.
Apparently, Haechan hadn’t been the only one caught under her spell that day. 
Hours later, after she’d left, Shotaro was sitting there, talking with Renjun, YangYang, and Haechan. He’d been pretty quiet up until someone mentioned her name, and then his eyes had lit up. It was obvious right away that Shotaro liked her, and he liked her in a different way than Haechan usually heard guys talk about her. Haechan himself was a bad example since he was lusting after her, in love with her body more than anything else. But when Shotaro talked about her he was wanting to know more about her, wanting to repeat all the things she’d said that he’d found funny; he liked her for her personality and didn’t even mention how great her tits had looked.
Haechan had assumed it was just the innocence of Shotaro, but tonight he’s seeing that Shotaro clearly harbors lusty feelings for her too. 
“I thought his heart would’ve exploded that day you kissed him in front of us,” Haechan tells her, watching the way that her gaze flicks up to meet his briefly before dancing away again. In truth, Haechan’s heart had nearly burst that day too, but surely Shotaro’s had as well. It had been Shotaro’s first kiss, with the girl of his dreams. Haechan still could only wish that he and Shotaro could have switched places that day. What he wouldn’t have given to be the one kissing her in front of all of their friends, to have them all know that he’d bagged the hottest woman on campus; he wanted to be the cause for her blush; he wanted to be the one who had walked away with her at his side.
He doesn’t know what he expects from her at this moment. What her reaction would really be to him telling her that Shotaro’s had a silly schoolboy crush on her for the past year and a half, but he doesn’t expect this.
Her shoulder knocks roughly against Haechan’s, pushing by him to escape the doorway. “You should go home, Haechan. Stop crashing on their couch,” she says. She walks away, crossing the living room towards the stairs, heading back to Shotaro instead of lingering for even a moment longer to talk to Haechan.
“Yeah, yeah.” Haechan feels a new burst of jealousy, thinking about her climbing those stairs, crawling back into Shotaro’s bed, pressing herself up against him in that t-shirt. Or, even worse, maybe without it. And again, he doesn’t know why he says it when he calls out in a voice just above a whisper, “Go crawl back in his bed!”
She’s going to do exactly that.
The sight of her extended middle finger draws a laugh from Haechan, but she doesn’t look back. She climbs the stairs and vanishes from sight. 
He collapses back down onto the sofa, trying to stop straining his ears for any sounds overhead. What is he trying to hear, anyway? The creaking of the floorboards? The squeak of the mattress springs as she rejoins Shotaro in bed? Or what, her waking Shotaro and them making sounds together.
A strange pit opens in Haechan’s belly, twisted full of complex knots that he can’t even begin to untangle the meaning of. 
Somehow, he eventually falls asleep, though his dreams are possessed with jealous scenarios. Her face, Shotaro’s, his own. Scenarios where he gets her, only to find her taken away in Shotaro’s arms. Dreams where he’s trapped outside the room while the sounds of her and Shotaro having sex echo in his ears. He wouldn’t necessarily call them nightmares. 
He doesn’t know exactly what wakes him in the morning, but something startles him awake, finding himself with a face full of bright sunlight on the sofa in the living room. His blanket is tucked up beneath his chin, and there are voices everywhere. Mainly though, he hears Shotaro’s voice, telling some story, and as the words come together in Haechan’s still half-asleep brain, he realizes that the story Shotaro is telling is a lie. An excuse for why he’s come down from his room this morning with company.
Haechan opens his eyes, catching sight of her standing on the stairs. She’s wearing her own clothes now, that hickey from the night before hidden away. He remembers one of his dreams when he’d been the one to give her that mark. 
The others seem to buy the bullshit story about her being drunk, vomiting and passing out in Shotaro’s bed. Haechan hears the quiet exchange of words between her and Shotaro in a soft, lovey-dovey tone that makes Haechan want to be sick. He sees them leave the stairs, making for the door and their smooth escape, and he can’t help it. He wants to make himself known to them before they leave.
“Such a gentleman, our Shotaro.” He says, “Letting her sleep in your bed. So sweet.”
She turns her head around so quickly, Haechan would be surprised if it didn’t hurt her neck. There’s venom in her eyes, but at the moment, Haechan can’t feel the sting of it. Especially when he’s instead blinded by the bright, bright sunlight as Shotaro throws open the front door. To combat her glare, Haechan responds with a wink and a wave, though that just makes her pretty face tighten.
“You should go home, Haechan,” she repeats her parting words from the night before. “Stop crashing on their couch.”
He laughs, because what else is there to do? 
She and Shotaro step out into the daylight, closing the door behind them. He laughs again, chuckling to himself as he remembers her words, the look on her face. 
A pillow smacks him full in the face. 
Haechan swears, bringing his hands up to ward off the possibility of a second attack as the pillow falls away. He looks up to see Renjun standing over him, glaring down at him. “She’s got a point. Either pay rent, dude, or get off our couch. Figure out the deal with your roommate.”
It’s impossible to figure things out with his roommate, but luckily, the other guy gets a girlfriend — the lucky bastard — and he starts spending all of his time at her apartment. Haechan returns to his ways of jerking off every chance he gets just so he can attempt to forget about those dreams he’s been having about Shotaro and her tangled together in bed. 
Weeks pass, and he manages to do a pretty good job of avoiding them. It helps that most of his nights are spent in his own bed at his own dorm now, but even when all of their friends are together, he always manages to miss being one-on-one with her and Shotaro. Until one weekend. 
The camping trip to the lake. 
All day long, Haechan was tortured by the sight of her bathed in sunlight, wind blowing through her hair, her face constantly lit up with smiles and laughter. All of the girls were wearing bikinis which had been a delightful sight to his eyes, and Haechan had even found his attention drifting to a few of the guys to admire the way their muscles moved and glistened with sweat in the sunlight. But his attention kept returning to her and the way she filled out her bikini. She easily could be a model, so gorgeous that he can imagine her as one of the models on the cover of a swimsuit catalogue, a Victoria Secret runway, or a Playboy magazine. 
He purposely puts himself close to her all day, though he also notices the way that she keeps gravitating toward wherever Shotaro is. 
Sometimes Haechan allows himself other distractions. He wrestles with Mark and Renjun in the shallows. He plays beach volleyball with several of them. He flirts with Karina where she floats on a pool float tied to the dock. He spends a short while sunbathing on the dock with one of the girls and Xiaojun, all three of them staring up at the clouds. 
And then comes the time in the early afternoon when a few of them start playing chicken. Shotaro is nowhere in sight, so Haechan takes the opportunity to ask the object of his lust if she would like to play. And to his luck and surprise, she agrees to partner with Haechan, letting him hold her on his shoulders. Her bare thighs rest over his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, and he knows it’s probably just his imagination, but he could swear he can smell her — sweet temptation tucked just beneath the scent of sunscreen and sweat and those fruity drinks Xiaojun and YangYang had been mixing up and passing out all day. 
They lost the game of chicken, but Haechan didn’t even care because for those few moments he’d had her. Or at least, it had felt like he did. Her fingers had tugged at his hair as she said his name with her thighs on his shoulders. And maybe his imagination got a little carried away. It was a good thing he was up to his waist in the lake so no one could see the trouble rising in his shorts thinking about all of her sun kissed skin against his. 
It wasn’t until hours and hours later, when the sun was plunging towards the horizon, when some of the other guys were busy grilling meat, that Haechan sat down beside the bright bonfire, pulling on a hoodie to ward off the chill sweeping in. Some of the others drift inside to rinse off after the day spent on the lake, the others start dinner preparations, and Haechan helps out some, mostly as a mood-maker, trying to draw laughs out of those whose faces have grown grim with hunger and irritability after being in the sun all day. 
When Haechan looks across the fire after a while, he finds her sitting there. Her hair is damp, her cheeks ruddy from the sun, but she’s freshly showered, dressed warmer now. Gone is all of that gorgeous exposed skin, the bikini that had felt like nothing when he’d held her on his shoulders earlier. He watches as Shotaro passes by her, brushing his hand over her shoulders. Haechan witnesses the little grin she throws towards Shotaro as he keeps walking into the house. She makes a move like she could just follow, and Haechan’s imagination takes that and runs with it, envisioning the two of them sneaking off and fucking in the house, imagining how he could walk in….
“This is a nice break, huh?” A girl drops down into the seat beside him. She smiles, wrapping her arms around her knees as she draws them up towards her chest. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like this semester is kicking my ass.”
Haechan welcomes the distraction. 
“Professor Kang especially,” Haechan agrees. He and this girl have several classes together since they’re in the same major, and the course that Professor Kang teaches is one required for the major, but if it wasn’t Haechan would have dropped it by now. 
She laughs. “Kang’s class is a little rough. But I’m doing pretty well in it right now if you need any help.”
Haechan isn’t even surprised by that. The girl sitting beside him is probably the smartest in their year. She does well all the time; the professors compliment her on it in class. Haechan’s definitely sought her out before for help dozens of times since they met as freshmen. 
“I might take you up on that,” he sighs, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “But like you said, this is a nice break. I feel like this weekend we can all just relax and let loose a little.”
She’s smiling when he looks over at him. “When do you ever hold back from letting loose, Lee Donghyuck?” 
The sound of his full name from her lips makes his stomach do a flip. People so rarely use it, and when they do he’s often in trouble. But that’s not how she said it, with her voice warm and happy, full of laughter. 
She is laughing, Haechan realizes, and he laughs too. She’s not wrong. Haechan takes pretty much every opportunity he can to crack jokes, to relax, to bring a little brightness to the days of the people around him.
Xiaojun comes over to see what’s so funny, and he draws her attention away until Haechan feels like he’s been cut out of the conversation. He decides to go help finish up the last of the meal prep. 
He does his best to try to rile up some of the others as they all eat. Trying to get a round of dares going because he wants to see someone have to go skinny dipping in the lake tonight even though the night air is quite cold now. No one’s up to play his game unfortunately, but as the night sinks in around everyone at the fire, Haechan does convince YangYang to drink with him, to see which of them can drink the most. 
The more he drinks, the harder it is for Haechan to keep his eyes from drifting across the fire. The harder it is to ignore the way Shotaro and the girl are so wrapped up in each other. And Haechan Isn't blind, although all of their friends might be, so he can see that Shotaro has stolen her heart, and that unsettles Haechan. 
For as long as Haechan has known her she hasn’t been tied down in a relationship, but now he can see that if she isn’t already, then she’s about to be fully in one. 
It throws off the balance of the world he knows, shutting out any possibility of him getting to experience any fun with her. 
Unsettled, jealous, a little drunk maybe (though Haechan refuses to admit that YangYang might have beat him), that’s what drives Haechan to say what he does. 
His words leap over the fire as everyone’s making jokes about Mark and one of their other friends finally jumping over the line between just friends and fuckbuddies. 
Haechan’s eyes are fixed on her and Shotaro, his heavy tongue lifts, mouth open to draw everyone’s attention to the secret couple in their midst. 
He can tell from the look in her eyes then that he’s done for. There’s no going back from these words he’s speaking, but it’s too late. Drunken words are sober thoughts, and all that, but it just keeps spilling out of him while the others around the fire look on. 
“Shotaro has obviously been in love with you from the start,” Haechan can hear himself saying, “Literally that very first day you met each other. He wouldn’t stop talking about you that night on the way back to our dorm, and kept trying to get Renjun and Mark to invite him to places where you would be. Absolutely lovesick. And then you were his first kiss? How romantic! Did you take his virginity too?”
Jaemin spits his drink out when he laughs, and several of the others laugh as well, someone spouts out their own teasing comment aimed at Shotaro. The night crawls over Haechan’s skin, but he’s staring at her. At no one else but her and the fire reflected in her eyes. She’s beautiful. She’s pissed off, but she’s beautiful. 
It’s the sound of the others around him joining in, it’s the alcohol soaking through his veins, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore, just anything to embarrass Shotaro honestly, because Haechan can see their fingers knitted together now, and he knows that Shotaro is the one that she wants and Haechan hates that, he absolutely hates it. He was here first, he should’ve taken his chance while he could. 
The jealousy eats at him, so he goes on and on, attacking everything from Shotaro’s lack of experience to the high likelihood of him being bad in bed. 
Even when she rises to her feet, the fire in her eyes no longer just a reflection of the bonfire, but her own blazing anger, Haechan leans back in his seat and smirks. She uses his full name, and its the second time he’s heard it used today, but this time is certainly the more familiar usage — with the tone of anger and followed by her telling him to fuck off, an accusation of him being drunk. 
He does start to feel a little bad about it when he notices the tears swimming in her eyes as she rails at him for bullying Shotaro. Haechan’s gaze flicks over to the other man, and he finds Shotaro looking a little embarrassed, but they all tease him about this stuff all the time, and Haechan’s drunk, so he can’t really be held accountable for what he’s saying right now. He and Shotaro will still be friends in the morning. 
Haechan isn’t really listening to what she says, not until he hears her say, “We don’t all ask about your sex life, or lack thereof. It’s not like you’re getting a lot of action.” 
That starts a fire in Haechan’s belly. It’s not like he never gets laid anymore. He can if he wants to, but it seems like since he found out about her and Shotaro his fantasies have starred the two of them more often than not, and he can’t have her, so it’s just a lot easier to settle for his hand and a fantasy. 
But she’s not finished yet. 
“Maybe you should be worried about your own skills instead of Shotaro’s.” She takes a half step forward, and Haechan is once again thinking about how hot she is even while she’s angry. She’s gorgeous, and maybe if she weren’t so obsessed with Shotaro, Haechan could redirect this anger she’s feeling into something more productive. 
Or so he thinks, drunkenly, until her next words. 
“Maybe if you were a semi-decent fuck, you’d not be sleeping on the sofa at their house every night.”
Those words finally hit home. 
He’s not a bad fuck. 
He’s more than a semi-decent fuck, thank you very much. 
But hearing that insult from her is more than he can take at the moment. It’s annoying, is what it is. She doesn’t have any idea what she’s talking about. Just last week, at a party, he’d fucked a sorority girl boneless and she’d still begged him for more. He’s a good fuck. 
He sits forward in his seat, fingertips digging into the edges of the arm as he tries to haul himself forward. 
He at least has the sobriety of mind to bite his tongue from saying the first thing that springs to mind. He holds in the offer to show her firsthand his skills although the words dance right there on the tip of his tongue. 
Instead, he says something else. 
“You want to talk about what I’m up to every night?” He could tell her a thing or two — the kinks he’d awakened in his weeks of video-watching trying to get over her, the things he’s already been experimenting on with people he’s met on a hook-up app. She doesn’t need to worry about what he’s up to. “Why don’t we talk about how every night you’re there fu—“
Shotaro rocks to his feet, face twisted with anger that Haechan has never seen from him before. A shout leaves his lips, drowning out the rest of Haechan’s words, leaving them floundering in the taste of vodka on Haechan’s tongue. 
Maybe this time they won’t be friends in the morning. Haechan can see that in the way Shotaro glares at him. At the possessive way that Shotaro puts his hand on her shoulder, moving her away from the fire, away from Haechan. 
She goes. 
Shotaro follows. 
Haechan rises to his feet, wanting to follow because he’s not done. 
Renjun’s there in an instant, and although he’s smaller than Haechan, he’s easily able to manhandle him. Especially since Renjun’s relatively sober and Haechan…. He’s had more than enough. He knows that. Renjun’s telling him as much as he corrals him inside the cabin, rambling to him and lecturing him about the things he’s said. 
He doesn’t want a lecture. Doesn’t want to think about anything else. He definitely doesn’t want to sit inside this cabin and pretend like he can’t hear the muffled sounds of Mark and their other friend fucking in the back bedroom. 
Renjun forces Haechan to sit at the kitchen table. He puts a glass of water down in front of him. 
“Drink, Donghyuckie.” He collapses into the seat beside Haechan, rubbing at his forehead like he’s got a headache. “Why do you always have to stir up shit with Shotaro, huh? Just because he genuinely likes the girl you just want to fuck? Because she kissed him? Move on, buddy. She’s clearly not into you. There are plenty of other people that are.”
Haechan glares but doesn’t say a word, just downs the glass of water as quickly as he can. Renjun just picks it up and refills it for him. 
He doesn’t want to talk about this with Renjun. Doesn’t want to talk about it with anyone. So he just sits there silently and sullenly, allowing Renjun to all but waterboard him in an attempt at sobering him up. 
By the time the couple in the back room stumble out to the kitchen, looking a little bit rough and blushing, Haechan does feel a whole lot less drunk. Some of the others have started to drift inside, toting in their blankets and their drinks and snacks. Calling it a night.
Haechan can hear someone singing out by the fire though, and Renjun wanders back out there, his voice joining in. Haechan can’t just sit inside and be miserable, and he doesn’t feel tired yet, so when Mark heads back to the fire, Haechan follows. 
Wherever her and Shotaro had gone while Renjun dragged Haechan off, they’ve returned. She sits tucked into Shotaro’s side. They look happy, and Haechan feels like shit.
And his mind is a lot more clear now. The jealous haze is gone, except for a tiny wrinkle of it in the back of his mind, so he has the clarity to at least stop by where the two of them sit. 
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “I was a dick before, and I know it. I just — I don’t really have any excuse, other than that I was just being an asshole.” He lowers his voice a little, glancing at where their hands now sit intertwined above the blanket that covers their laps. “But, hey, now it’s not a secret anymore, right?”
That thought doesn’t seem to reassure either of them too much, so Haechan walks away, snuggling into the spot between Mark and Renjun. The girl Haechan had talked with about school earlier is sitting across the fire  shooting looks at him, and he can’t help wondering if he was that much of an asshole earlier that she’s wary of him; he and her have always gotten along, but now when he looks at her, she avoids eye contact.
Haechan steers away from the bottle of whiskey that is getting passed around, and slowly the rest of the night passes. The crowd around the bonfire shrinks as his friends disappear inside, and soon there are only a core few of them left. 
The night wind whistles in off the lake, biting at his bare legs where he’s still wearing his swim trunks from earlier today. 
Jeno laughs, then he turns to look at Haechan, at the other few still left. It’s only Shotaro and his girlfriend, Jeno, Haechan, Xiaojun, Mark, and the girl from earlier left around the fire now. 
It’s grown cold out even with the bonfire. Haechan wishes he’d opted to put on warmer clothes earlier in the evening instead of just his thin swim trunks and a hoodie. Several of the others are bundled up in jackets and pants and blankets. As Haechan looks around the fire, the girl he has class with shivers, tucking her feet under the blanket covering her lap. Xiaojun is still sitting beside her and he drapes another blanket across her lap. 
Jeno smiles around the fire at all of them as he says, “Maybe before we all head in, we take a dip in the hot tub.”
“I think I’m done for the night.” Mark stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “It’s too cold.”
“It helps that you’ve got someone new to warm your bed, though, I bet,” Jeno calls at Mark’s retreating back. Mark just flips him off.
Haechan is chilled to the bone, so it sounds good to him. Xiaojun also heads in for the night, but all of the others agree, and before he knows it, he’s stripped down to his boxers, sitting in the boiling hot water of the tub up on the deck. He’d almost forgotten about it since it’s tucked off to the side of the house. 
He’s entirely sober now. He’s downed enough water over the last two hours that he’s probably fully replenished any of the dehydrating effects of what he’d drunk earlier in the night. But tragically, as he realizes after he’s been stewing in the hot tub for a little while, he needs to piss. 
He’s not so much of a dick that he’d do it in here, so he gets up. Internally he curses at how cold the air is on his bare skin, but externally he doesn’t say anything even as he can see the steam rising from his skin, even as his swim trunks cling tight to his hips and ass. He just grabs his sweatshirt from where he dumped it with everyone else’s clothes, and he heads inside. 
He just goes in to take a piss, expecting he’ll be back out there with the rest of them in a minute. There is no way Haechan’s gone for longer than five minutes, but when he steps into the kitchen on his way back outside, he finds the girl who’d been in the hot tub now sitting at the table. Jeno’s clothes are on the floor, which means he’s probably not out there either. Did they all come in?
She’s got her head pillowed on her arms, but she turns her head to the side as Haechan approaches. Her eyes look heavy, sleepy, as if she’d been about to doze off. 
“Are you just gonna sleep out here?” Haechan asks. 
There are plenty of rooms in this house to sleep in, not to mention those nice tents out there by the fire. If it’s her roommates she’s trying to avoid — which he would also avoid rooming with Karina and Winter, like she was supposed to be — his room on the second floor is still open. 
“You know the King bed upstairs is still open,” Haechan tells her without really knowing why he’s offering. He’d won that single room fair and square from the other guys. But maybe it’s because he’s slept with Karina before — actually slept with her, not just fucked her, though he has done that too — in a room shared with Winter, and he knows the sparks of jealousy that Winter can ignite when her space is infringed upon. “If it's the idea of rooming with Karina and Winter that has you scared to sleep in there, you’re welcome to the room up there.”
Her eyes go wide for a second, mouth forming a soft o, and she shakes her head a little. She looks cute like that, and Haechan feels a little smile rise to his lips. He’s not saying that he’s never really thought of her that way, but it’s never really struck him much. Not when there was someone around to overshadow her like Shotaro’s girlfriend. But right now, she looks cute, open and vulnerable in her expression. Not to mention the open and vulnerable way that she’s still barely dressed from the dip in the hot tub. Haechan can’t fight the urge to sweep his gaze over her, all the skin exposed by the little bra she’s wearing and her underwear that are still wet and a tiny bit see-through. 
He notices the way she draws her arms closer to her body, pressing the bundle of her clothes against her chest as she stands. 
“Why is no one sleeping up there?” She asks, and it takes Haechan a second too long to remember that he’d just offered up his bed to her for the night. 
Haechan explains quickly that he won the single room, and it’s still unoccupied because he’s not tired yet. And then he repeats his offer for her to take it. She just looks at him with these wide, pretty eyes, then she asks, “And what about when you do get tired? Where are you gonna sleep then?” 
He just shrugs. He’s really not tired at all right now. He could use a good long soak in the hot tub, especially if the rest of them have abandoned it. Or maybe he’ll just go sit by the fire, pick up one of the beers someone surely left out there. And he’s pretty sure that YangYang left half a bag of marshmallows out there for roasting. So right now the thought of where he’s going to sleep isn’t really something he’s too concerned about. “That’s a problem for then.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, so Haechan reaches for the door to step back outside, and the doorknob has just turned beneath his hand when he hears her quiet voice behind him.
“When you get tired Haechan….” She pauses just long enough that Haechan turns to look back at her. 
She’s twisting her shirt in her hands like she’s nervous, and Haechan can’t help smiling at that. Does he make her nervous? They’ve been friends for a while now, sharing classes, study rooms, meals and conversations. When they’d talked earlier today she hadn’t seemed nervous at all, but right now she does, and Haechan knows that when they first became friends she had a crush on him, but he thought she grew out of it. Maybe not. Her cheeks grow a little warm, her gaze dipping away from his before returning. 
“Well, it’s a big bed,” she says, “I’m happy to share.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Haechan pulls the door open, still watching her. 
He sees something there in her eyes, buried deep. Just a flicker of some deeper hunger, a small spark in the dark.
Interesting.
But it’s gone just as quickly, and Haechan looks away, murmuring a quiet “goodnight” to her, and then he’s stepping out through the doorway. 
Just as he rounds the corner of the house to return to the hot tub, Haechan freezes in place. 
The hot tub, which had held four people when he left, and which he believed would now be empty, still holds two people. 
Haechan shrinks back around the corner of the house, but he doesn’t withdraw completely. Doesn’t look away. 
How could he look away from the sight of one of his fantasies playing out right in front of his eyes? The girl he’d just finally relinquished his lustful crush on now straddling Shotaro? Her shoulders steam as she drapes her arms over Shotaro’s shoulders, as he draws a hand up out of the water to touch her back. Haechan can’t look away, transfixed by the way that she shivers into Shotaro, the way her back arches slightly against his light touch. And she’s smiling, holding Shotaro’s gaze when Haechan sees the other man’s wrist flick, and then his breath catches in his throat. 
Her bra falls away, and Haechan has dreamed of her tits. He has had very, very specific fantasies about fucking them, fondling them, resting his head on them during post-coital bliss. 
But he’s never seen them in person. Not until right now. 
Shotaro drops her bra over the edge of the hot tub, and Haechan can only stare, like a fucking pervert, at her bare tits. They’re perfect. Her nipples stand to attention in the cool air, and then Shotaro’s hands are on them, just like Haechan wishes his were. His hands flex at his sides, curling into fists, trying to rid himself of the phantom feeling of soft boobs in his hands. 
And then Shotaro’s lips are on her neck, and Haechan watches the way her eyes flutter shut, her mouth falls open. 
He should stop looking. 
Look away, he tells himself. Just go inside, and stop being a pervert.
But he likes watching. 
He likes to see the way her body reacts. The way she gasps and shifts in Shotaro’s lap as he kisses her neck, as he trails his kisses down. The soft moan she lets out when he scrapes his teeth over her collarbone. 
Fuck. 
Haechan feels his cock stirring in interest. 
He notices when she shifts higher in Shotaro’s lap, when her mouth falls open on a sigh that becomes a moan of Shotaro’s name. And then she starts moving, rolling her hips, and Haechan realizes that Shotaro must have his fingers inside her right now. She clutches at Shotaro’s shoulders, and Haechan wishes with all his being that he could be Shotaro right then. To have his fingers buried inside her soft, tight heat. To have his lips on her tits, her writhing in his lap and saying his name. 
Haechan can tell Shotaro isn’t holding back. He’s not teasing, not drawing it out. He’s just giving it to her exactly like she wants it. And Haechan drinks in the show, the way she rides Shotaro’s fingers, her face flushing and eyes aglow when she looks at Shotaro’s face. And then, Haechan gets to witness her cumming, falling apart on Shotaro’s fingers, beneath Shotaro’s lips. She pulls at his hair so tightly. 
Haechan doesn’t even notice at first that his hand has risen to his own hair. That he’s knotted his fingers through it. He tugs, and it’s only at the jolt of pleasure that goes straight to his cock that he realizes what he’s doing. 
He’s so damn hard in his pants right now. 
Even watching her kiss another man, in this context, Haechan feels nothing but arousal. He watches, knowing that it’s wrong, but also knowing that he likes it. 
He likes watching her with her guard down, uninhibited and raw with Shotaro, unaware that Haechan’s watching. The thought makes his cock throb a little, and Haechan reaches down, just offering his cock a little squeeze. 
They’re moving again in the hot tub. Her and Shotaro are making out, and Haechan, from his vantage point twenty feet away, can only barely hear Shotaro moaning into the kiss. More importantly, Haechan’s focused on the way her body moves, on how she’s clearly grinding down on Shotaro, but Haechan wonders if he missed the moment when she started riding Shotaro, or if she’s really only teasing him right now. 
Another squeeze of his hand around his cock, the glide of his palm over the tip. 
Fuck, she’s so sexy right now. On top. In charge. 
The wind whips around the corner of the house towards Haechan, carrying with it the sound of Shotaro whining. His head thumps against the side of the hot tub, just gazing up at her. Haechan wishes, again, that he was in Shotaro’s spot, looking up at her like she’s a star in the night sky, like she’s the moon, like she’s all that matters in the universe with her pussy so tight around him. 
He shivers, his foot moving. 
His toes knock into a small branch on the deck, and it makes a small scraping sound, rolling away across the boards. 
Haechan moves, drawing further back around the corner, but lingers close enough to peek around. 
For a moment he thinks he sees her look in his direction, but there’s no shout of anger, no look of surprise. 
She just dips her head to kiss Shotaro’s cheek or his neck. Her hair falls in a curtain obscuring Haechan’s view a little bit until she sits up a moment later. She shivers in Shotaro’s lap, goosebumps rising on her skin and her fucking nipples look like they would feel so good in Haechan’s mouth. 
Damn it all. 
He pushes his hand down the front of his swim trunks, fingertips moving over his abdomen, down to wrap his hand around his bare cock at last. 
Now Haechan can see that she was definitely just grinding on Shotaro before. He can see the way she rises up a little bit, the way she reaches down beneath the water, this look of mischievousness and delight in her eyes as she sinks down on Shotaro’s cock. 
And then she moans, and Haechan’s entire body goes numb. 
That sound. 
It’s unmistakable and so loud that probably half of his friends heard it in the house. Not that her or Shotaro seem to care. 
Judging by the way that she moans, Haechan feels a new brand of jealousy. Is Shotaro’s cock really that good? Haechan has never seen it, obviously he’s never heard any tales about it, but if just sinking down on him has her making a sound like that then Shotaro must have a dreamy cock. 
Haechan thumbs at his tip, smearing a bit of precum around, reminding himself that he shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be jerking off to the sight of his friends fucking unwittingly in front of him. 
But then she starts moving, starts kissing Shotaro in an absolutely filthy way with visible tongue and moaning from both of them. He can see Shotaro with his hands on her ass, her back, her tits. 
Haechan just leans against the wall of the house, hand fisting his cock as he starts jerking off, moving his hand at the same pace that she’s moving on Shotaro.
And when she starts bouncing? Tits jumping on her chest, Haechan feels a new jolt of lust and lets a fantasy overlay reality. He’s still watching her with Shotaro, but he’s also envisioning himself beneath her, her pussy hugging his cock, her ass smacking against his thighs, and his lips wrapped around her tit, his hand at her hip to keep her moving. In his fantasy, Haechan is making her moan, but in reality, he’s mostly just hearing Shotaro, which should probably be a turn-off, but something about everything combined means that Haechan’s cock is growing harder, more wet at the tip as he twists his wrist, imagining his face buried in her tits. 
He thinks about earlier today, when she’d sat on his shoulders for the game of chicken, the scenario his mind had come up with then of eating her out, her taste on his lips as he’d imagined the smell of her all around him. 
Haechan bites his bottom lip, feeling a tug in his belly, the tightness in his balls. 
And when he refocuses on the sight in front of him, he watches Shotaro standing up, lifting her out of the water with her legs twisted around his hips. She laughs a little, her voice carrying clear over to Haechan as she says, “Fuck me, Taro! It’s cold out here.”
Shotaro laughs too, turning to sit her ass down on the edge of the tub. 
Not that either of them could possibly be aware of it, but doing this has made Haechan’s view just that much better. Although now he’s getting an eye full of Shotaro’s ass, Haechan can also see where their bodies join. Can watch her thighs tighten against Shotaro’s hips as he drives into her, can catch a glimpse of his cock pushing into her and — oh, fuck, Haechan can barely hold in a moan as he sees her pussy. Pretty, perfect. Again, he imagines licking her out, his tongue swirling circles on her clit, her voice moaning his name. 
“Taro!” She cries out, shattering that little bit of Haechan’s fantasy. But still. 
Her nails rake over Shotaro’s back, and Haechan feels phantom zings of pleasure down to his lower back. 
Shotaro fucks her like he’s got experience, and fuck, Haechan supposes that he does have experience right here with her. He knows exactly where to touch, where to kiss, what angles and how deep and everything that Haechan doesn’t know in this situation. He fucks her with confidence, and with the ability to show her so much pleasure that Haechan can tell she’s on the brink of orgasm. 
He’s close too, seeing her like this. All laid out like a vision as Shotaro works her to the edge. 
And then it happens. 
There’s no denying it now, not when she glances his way, and their eyes catch. 
Haechan thinks that this is it. That he’s done for. 
But she doesn’t look away. She doesn’t yell and make Shotaro stop so they can kill Haechan for being a pervert. She locks eyes with him, and there’s something there in her gaze that makes him reevaluate everything that’s happened in the last few minutes. Earlier when he thought he’d narrowly avoided being caught, had he actually been spotted? Had they put on a show for him?
Fuck, that thought alone, that any part of what he’s witnessing had been done with him in mind, even just a little bit. 
Shotaro grabs her chin, dragging her mouth back to his. Her eyes flutter shut, Haechan forgotten. 
Haechan doubles down on his cock, and his orgasm hits right as hers rocks through her. He cums over his fist inside his swim trunks, watching her toes curl, her fingers dragging through Shotaro’s hair and down over his shoulders. 
He’s still pumping his cock, his body wracked with pleasure, when she slips off Shotaro’s cock to sink into the water, and Haechan watches her give the most intense, sloppiest head to Shotaro. Maybe Haechan cums again a bit, watching her bob her head on another man’s cock, and perhaps he feels a bit filthy for it too, but there’s a deeper satisfaction to be found there. 
Haechan doesn’t hang around to watch Shotaro cum in her mouth. He slips back around the house, down the stairs from the deck, and he walks over to the bonfire. They really should’ve put it out before they walked away, but it’s dying now anyway. The last burning embers of it flicker in the wind off the lake, and Haechan takes a seat, wipes his cum-covered hand off on a towel that someone left slung over this chair, and he stares into the embers to process what the fuck just happened. 
How is he going to be able to look either of them in the eye again after tonight? If Shotaro knew that he was watching, then their friendship is probably definitely over. 
He can’t believe he just stayed there and watched. 
Of course, he knew he was a bit of a perv, maybe an exhibitionist when his roommate walked in on him the first time and Haechan liked it. He definitely knew he was into it when he held eye contact with his roommate while cumming that other time. And, sure, his interest in watching porn definitely stemmed from him enjoying watching other people going at it. 
But this? 
“Haechan.” 
It’s the sound of his name that finally snaps him out of his stupor. 
He has to blink away the afterimage of the embers imposed on his eyes, but when it clears enough, he sees her and Shotaro both standing there staring at him. Hands clasped, still wet and flushed from the hot tub. 
He doesn’t know if they’re here to talk or if they’re claiming one of the nice tents out here to sleep in tonight. Either way, Haechan doesn’t want to be here. 
He stands up, not making eye contact, brushing right by them with nothing more than a goodnight. 
Inside the cabin, it’s very quiet. Everyone is asleep, and Haechan can feel the need to sleep finally catching up with him, the big bed upstairs calling his name. 
Shit, he remembers, the bed isn’t empty anymore. 
He does his best to open the door quietly, but even with his caution, he has barely pushed the door open before he hears the sound of a startled movement from the bed. She’s half-lifted herself up, and she’s just staring at him in the dark.
“Sorry,” he apologizes as he steps inside. “It’s just me.”
She sighs and sinks back down into the bed, and that’s when Haechan realizes she’s lying on his side of the bed. He prefers the left side, but it seems rude to ask her to move now. He closes the door again behind himself, and he does his best to keep quiet as he moves around the room towards the ensuite bathroom. He needs to rinse off – or at the very least clean up his jizz. 
Haechan pulls his hoodie off, letting it fall to the floor, and then he casts a quick glance at the girl laying in his bed. Her back is to him, so he feels fine about it as he drops his swim trunks and takes those last few steps into the bathroom fully nude.
He flicks the light on in the bathroom and takes a look down at himself. Gross. He grabs a wad of toilet paper to clean himself up, then decides the still slightly damp washcloth draped over the edge of the bathtub will be better. It takes only a moment to wipe his tacky cum off his skin, then he turns the light off again, and steps back out into the room. She’s still got her back to him, and she doesn’t move at all when he walks across the room to reach the desk where he’d sat his baggage for the weekend. 
It’s pitch black in there anyway, so even if she were to look over at him, it’s not like she would really see anything. And it’s not like Haechan isn’t confident in how he looks. He is. But… this is different.
His bag is sitting on the desk, and he quickly grabs out a pair of sweatpants, slips them on, then walks over to the wrong side of the bed.   
“You smell like lake water, bonfire smoke, and chlorine.” Her voice is half-muffled.
“I’ll shower in the morning,” Haechan says, pressing his face into the pillow. It’s not right. This pillow isn’t as comfortable, but that’s probably because he brought the pillow on his side of the bed from home. It’s perfectly formed for him, and he’s half-tempted to drag it out from beneath her head or maybe make her switch him sides of the bed. “You’re on my side of the bed, by the way.”
She snorts a tiny sound of amusement. 
Haechan moves just slightly, and he feels his foot bump against some part of her. Possibly her calf – he doesn’t know, all he knows is that whatever part of her it is is soft and warm.
“You’re the one that invited me,” she teases, “Guess you should’ve been more specific about where you wanted me.” 
She turns over to face Haechan then, and the movement sends a tiny puff of air in his direction. She smells nice, and he breathes in again, noticing that she doesn’t smell like nasty lake water or chlorine, and she only smells a tiny bit like smoke from the fire, but there’s something else sweet and aromatic about her that makes his mouth water just a tiny bit. 
And maybe his dick grows a little hard too, if he’s being honest. 
She’s already in his bed, so it doesn’t take a whole lot for his imagination to get carried away, especially not when he notices that now that his eyes have adjusted to the light level, it’s not nearly as dark in this room as he’d first thought. There are two uncovered windows, and light comes in through both of them – from the fading bonfire and from the lights over the hot tub on the deck below.
In that small amount of light, he can see her face now, and when his eyes briefly dip lower he can see that she is still only wearing that clingy thin bra that she’d worn in the hot tub. Her tits look perfect right now, like they would feel perfect in his hands or beneath his lips. He can just imagine rolling her onto her back, tugging the top edge of that material down, taking one of her nipples into his mouth….
But no. He’s not going to fuck her tonight. 
They’re just friends, and he might be a manwhore but he’s not an asshole. Making a move on her when it’s already so late and she’s clearly half-asleep, when he’s the one that told her that she could just sleep in this bed, that would obviously be a dick move. 
So no, not tonight. But he’s not saying never.
“Next time I’ll make it clear where I want you,” Haechan says, and he hopes she hears the promise that if they someday find themselves in a position at all similar to this one, he’ll be glad to position her exactly how he might want her. 
In the morning, Haechan gets rudely awoken by YangYang shoving into the room, not even bothering to knock in his rush to use this room’s bathroom. Haechan just groans and rolls over, stretching his limbs out across the bed as far as they can go, and it takes him a moment to realize why all of the space tickles some part of his brain as strange. Because then he remembers that this bed wasn’t empty when he fell asleep last night. 
Haechan lifts his head to squint at the side of the bed that prior to last night had been his. Empty. Sheets rumpled, but empty of the girl who had filled them.
He just drops his head back down, and he rolls over, sliding onto that half of the bed to get comfortable on his own pillow from home.
The only thing is that it doesn’t smell like home right now. 
It smells like her, like that pretty attractive scent he’d breathed in last night. He feels a little perverted when he buries his nose in the pillow to take a whiff. There’s one spot that stimulates something deep in his brain, and he wonders if that’s where she’d laid her head for most of the night, if that’s her shampoo that he’s smelling the most right there. He groans a little.
Yeah.
He’s definitely a perv because he’s getting hard again.
First the hot tub voyeurism and now this?
God damn, he’s a freak.
Willfully ignoring the rising problem, Haechan gets out of bed and heads down to the kitchen, determined to start the day off either with a coffee if someone’s got some brewing or a beer or maybe even something stronger if it’s available. 
Renjun squints at Haechan when he comes down, complaining about how he’d been woken up by Jeno nearly puking on him, hungover as hell. He lays all the blame on Haechan, since he’d been Jeno’s drinking buddy earlier in the night yesterday, and he’d also been one of the last ones hanging out with him last night, so he should’ve at least gotten him to trade out the alcohol for water.  But thinking of Jeno makes Haechan think of the hot tub, and thinking of the hot tub makes him think about the scene he’d witnessed, and that is something he can’t think about right now. 
He can’t risk it showing on his face somehow, and he refuses to admit to anyone else about his perverted moment last night. He can’t even face the happy couple. Not over breakfast when they appear in the kitchen hand-in-hand, blushing and bright-eyed from outside where they’d slept in one of those tents. 
He avoids them until he can’t anymore. 
For some reason, YangYang is the one allowed to steer the boat that had come with this rented property on the lake, which YangYang thinks makes him the Captain. He stands on the dock, waving everyone on board until the boat is at maximum capacity minus one. 
Haechan lingers on the dock as Shotaro and his girlfriend step onto the boat. 
YangYang stands there, watching Haechan, waiting. “Dude, are you not coming?”
To everyone’s surprise, but no one more so than Haechan, Shotaro answers. “Oh, no. Haechannie likes to just watch.”
Heat flashes through Haechan’s face. 
So they both knew about last night. 
And Shotaro is making jokes about it. 
Her face is lit up with laughter. Everyone else brushes the comment off, but Shotaro smiles, looking at Haechan with forgiveness in his eyes, even amusement. 
Haechan rocks past YangYang and onto the boat. He puts his arm around Shotaro’s shoulders, and he glances first at her where she’s watching the two of them, and then he meets Shotaro’s gaze so close to his own. 
“Consider me a tourist,” Haechan says, and the feeling of his words resound in his bones. “I just want to enjoy the view.”
That brings a laugh from both of them, Shotaro pushes him away, but Haechan moves further onto the boat. And then YangYang hops on board, unmoors it from the dock, and moments later he’s Captaining everyone across the lake. 
And Haechan looks around at his friends, his gaze lingering a little extra long on the happy couple, where Shotaro’s hand rests so low on her waist that it’s pretty much on her ass. His gaze passes momentarily over his friend who’d shared his bed last night; his attention pauses on Jeno where he’s wrestling with Jaemin, both of them shirtless and dripping with the beer that Jaemin had just dumped over Jeno. Haechan sees Karina and Winter drinking with Chenle. There’s Renjun grinning down at his phone at the far end of the boat. And Haechan again Haechan’s attention returns to the girl who had fled his bed this morning, she sits now with her head tipped back to soak in the sun while Xiaojun talks to her and flexes his muscles
Yes, Haechan thinks as he takes it all in, he’s certainly something of a tourist, enjoying the view.
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YIMA chapter index || next chapter -> 
a/n: Chapter 1 done! If you’d like another perspective of this chapter, you should check out kiss kiss (fall in love) which is a 3 part Shotaro x Y/N fic, and that scene in the hot tub occurs in part 3! 
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zzoguri · 7 months
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first to know you, first to love you ➵ eric sohn
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all you should care about is graduating with flying colors, so why are you starting to care about your seatmate?
requested by @mosviqu @sohnric for the song "valentine" by laufey
general genre/warnings ➵ strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, afab reader (they/them pronouns), reader is a psychology student who has so much aspirations (and also believes love and studies cannot be balanced), eric is your seatmate-turned-friend-turned-lover, library dates reading dates study dates you name it!, eric is the most supportive guy out here, he annotates a book for you..., references to books and poetry, he buys you stuff, and he reads a book for you!!, slight hurt/comfort, kissing, also unedited IM SORRY!!!
word count ➵ 10k words
taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel
a/n ➵ okay i am WITHIN the word limit!! but i know i went over the limit of scenarios (this may be the last time this happens... i don't know yet... help?) but i hope you enjoy this bar!! i am not too happy about my writing style for this one :') and i know reader may not be very "black cat" as i know you but i hope you'll still enjoy it to the fullest </3 also i made sure to not mention anything related to height LMFAO for the other readers: if you enjoyed this, always make sure to reblog (even if it’s on your tbr)!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist
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The years spent in university may be defined differently by everyone. Some may live out these years to enjoy the supposed independence they craved in high school. Others may spend those years exploring their interests and hobbies as they figure out what their future may have in store for them.
You, however, were a different case—head in scientific journals and coursework with a plan to graduate summa cum laude. As you study in a quota course, you’re determined to come out of university with flying colors. In a sea of students who are of similar (or even better) skill sets as you, the desire to be recognized as one of the top students is what you long for.
And for you, that means you were set on not entertaining ideas that may divide your attention from your studies—you were not going to allow yourself to fall in love in your years of university.
That is until a certain boy who goes by Eric Sohn came into your life.
CHAPTER ONE: LOVE LABORS LOST
The season of summer still lingers in the air; birds chipper as they sit on the tree branches; the sun glows yellow in the sea of blue; people point their fans at themselves as they are forced to bask in the heat.
But the new academic year has commenced, and you are determined to ace your classes once more. You’ve read the syllabi of all the classes you were going to take, even ones for your general subjects. Many people believe that general subjects are a waste of their time. You, however, thought differently, especially since one of the subjects you’re taking this semester is English Literature.
Coming from a STEM-oriented course, you may not seem like the type to enjoy literature. But the reality is that you love to learn about poets and writers—ones who seemed to craft worlds and dynamics that you could never translate into words. This misconception of those who enjoy science being unable to appreciate written bodies of art is one you face. But at least this course is a general subject, leaving you on equal footing with individuals from different courses.
You sit by the window as you wait for your professor to finish setting up his laptop. It’s syllabus week, so there wasn’t much to be worried about. Once he clears his throat, he shows the class a smile.
“Good morning, class. I’m Mr. Hwang Taejoon, and I am your professor for Introduction to English Literature.” He takes a moment to look down at his clipboard which you can only assume holds a list of his students’ names. “If this isn’t your class, you may take this opportunity to leave.” Some students get off their seats and make their way outside the classroom.
As soon as they left, your professor smiled before clapping his hands. “I’m excited to go through this semester with you. I know this is only an introductory course for you, so I will make sure to guide you all throughout. Now, will–”
The door of the classroom slams open. Your eyes snap to where the sound comes from, showing a boy whose black hair is all tousled up as he pants. He’s all dressed up in a varsity jacket over his hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You notice how his hand quickly reaches out to his head, fixing his hair. 
The boy then immediately bows down to the class (mostly to your professor) as he says, “Sorry about being late!” Your eyes drift back to Mr. Hwang whose face now holds a frown in contrast to the smile he once showed to you. “I promise, I won’t be late for any other session!”
Mr. Hwang grumbles before he takes another look back down to his clipboard. “Go take a seat.”
The boy stands up straight before flashing your professor an apologetic smile. He quickly makes his way to find a seat. Despite the vacant seats that are located throughout the class, his eyes quickly skimmed through them. That is until his eyes land on you. You notice how his eyes flicker to the empty seat beside you. And the next thing you know, you find him situated to your right.
You try to keep your eyes on your laptop, looking at the text on the syllabus. You didn’t want to stare at him—the boy who took the vacant seat beside you out of all the ones situated around the classroom.
The noise he creates as he brings out his laptop is not loud enough to interrupt the discussion but can drown out your professor’s words. But as soon as he settles down, you notice that he sets his hand down on the space between the two laptops. You cannot help but let your eyes flicker to it, and you notice his wrist is littered with beaded bracelets.
“Now, I’ll be discussing the outputs you are expected to deliver within the semester.” Your eyes snap up to where your professor is, standing right behind the table as he looks through his laptop.
You were ready to focus for today’s session until you felt someone tap your shoulder. As you look to your side, you are met with a boy who shows you a smile—one that is enough to almost have you smiling back, just almost.
“Hi, can I ask if there was anything I missed?” It’s a simple question, but you find yourself unable to formulate an answer. His voice is enough to send you into a lullaby; he could have his own podcast and you’d listen only to hear him speak nonstop, whether it would be of logical discussions or nonsensical chatter.
Without any idea of how to voice your thoughts, you only shake your head. He nods and shoots you a wink before looking back to the professor.
You should’ve been thrown off by his sudden action. If anything, you have every right to roll your eyes at him. But you do nothing of the sort, only looking back at your professor who demands your attention while your mind remains preoccupied with the boy beside you.
This could be due to all the years focused on your studies. You could care less about all the people who tried to earn your affection, from your classmates in your majors to even those part of the same club as you. But the boy emits an aura that has you only thinking of him. How can you ace this class if you’re turning putty at the first meeting? You need to get a better grip on yourself.
“Now, I want you to answer these,” Mr. Hwang says as he flashes a question on the screen: What role does literature play in your life? “And talk about it with your seatmates. Now would be a good time to get to know your classmates with the upcoming paired assessment around the corner.”
As you read out the words on the screen, you are not given enough time to think as the boy beside you clears his throat. You look back at him, met with the same smile he flashed at you then. Does he do this with every person he first meets?
“I think I should introduce myself. I’m Eric Sohn, majoring in Hotel Culinary Arts,” he says with his hand out toward you. You take a glance at his hand before letting yourself hold it, shaking it firmly.
“I’m Y/N, majoring in Psychology.”
You notice the way his eyes widen as you mention your course. “Do you perhaps know someone named Kevin Moon?”
The mention of your friend’s name has you smiling. “Yeah, I do. We’ve worked together since we’re part of our home org. How do you know him?” Your hand drifts away from his, crossing your arms as you listen intently to what he has to say.
“Mutual friends,” he reveals as he lets one of his arms rest on the back of your chair. With one hand tucked under his chin, he rests his arm on the table. He takes a glance at the screen shown in the front to refresh his memory on the question. “Would you like to go first? Or do you want me to start?”
You nod your head, signaling for him to start. He takes a deep breath as he looks up to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. “Well, I’ve read a few books then and there, but I think it was only when I entered uni that I started really reading more books if that makes sense.”
As his eyes meet yours, you nod as a way to show you understand him. “Yeah, I hate to admit this at first meeting but I’m a very romantic person.” You cannot help but raise your eyebrows at his words, earning a chuckle from him.
“I swear, I am! That’s why I started reading because my sister got me hooked on some romance books, so I’d like to think that literature helps me imagine scenarios I would love to see play out.” You notice the way he starts to scratch the back of his neck. “It doesn’t have to be me as the protagonist, but I’d like it,” he shyly admits, making you smile unconsciously.
God, you were not the type to just smile at some random boy. So why did Eric seem to have this effect on you?
Your thoughts snap you back into reality; the smile is now replaced by your calm demeanor. “I guess I can start.” As you see him signal for you to continue, you bite the inside of your cheek as you let your eyes drift to the screen.
“Well, I’ve been reading my whole life, actually,” you look back at Eric who seems to show genuine interest in what you have to say. Oddly enough, you feel as if you can tell him more than just the typical story you tell people.
“I know people don’t expect me to be this type because I major in Psychology, and I have this tendency to read a lot of scientific journals and textbooks for my classes but that’s because I enjoy learning about the human condition.” You let your eyes drift off to nowhere as you reveal a part of you to a stranger. Maybe it’s because he’s a stranger that makes it easier for you to admit details you wouldn’t normally admit to someone whom you’ve met under a different circumstance.
“But I’ve always had an affinity for reading. Books can be a form of escapism through fictional stories, but they can also be a way to encapsulate memories of someone,” you continue with a small sigh. “I have been quite behind with my reading schedule though, so I’m hoping this class may propel me back to getting back to reading.”
He hums as he nods before saying, “No, I get it. I like that answer.” You look back at the boy who only smiles at you. “It’s nice to know that you still want to go back to reading despite how much your other classes demand it. I know many people who’ve lost that love and don’t see themselves going back to it, you know?” You nod at his words.
You were no stranger to the love-hate relationship when it comes to reading. If anything, that is how you’d describe your relationship when it comes to the hobby. But you were hoping that the upcoming years would treat you right and that your love for said hobby may not dissipate. 
“Yeah, I would hate to lose that form of escapism from my studies.”
He nods with a small chuckle following. “I get it, I would hate to lose it, too.”
With no idea how to respond, you expect silence to follow. But Eric quickly fills it as he asks you a question. “Do you know anyone in this class?” As you shake your head, he lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, same.”
You cannot help but giggle. “I mean, if I knew someone, then I would be sitting with them,” you point out.
You want to ask him why he chose to take a seat beside you, but he beats you to it by asking you another question. “Do you have a class before this?”
“Uh, no,” you say as you quickly take a glance at your laptop, moving the windows away to show your schedule. Since the semester just started, you didn’t memorize your schedule. “It’s my first class of the day, but my next class is around 3.” You look back at the boy who cannot hide the way he reels at your schedule.
“You have such a long break. But me too,” he says as he pulls out his phone. As he shows you his schedule, you notice how big of a gap he has for today, where his next class is happening around 6 p.m. “But at least the other days are back-to-back. I just didn’t get lucky with my Mondays and Thursdays. I tried to change it but all the professors denied my request.”
You cannot help but sigh at the sight of his schedule as you remember yours. “Same. Well, I guess we’re stuck with our shitty schedules.”
Then, he asks, “Do you want to exchange schedules and numbers, perhaps?” Your eyebrows shoot up at his question. “I mean, I just don’t know anyone here, so I’d love to at least have a familiar face I can go to, especially for this class.”
You know you’re about to enter dangerous territories. With the numerous books you’ve read, you were sure this is what books typically started their stories with—a meeting between the two protagonists whose relationship will only have room to blossom.
And you should have kept him at arm's length. You didn’t want to risk getting friendly with someone like Eric because even at the first meeting, you couldn’t help but feel yourself drawn to him. But he’s nothing but kind and there should be no problem with allotting him space to take up in your life. All you need to do is stick to your plan—no idea of pursuing romance shall be entertained until you graduate. You can only hope that your interest in him is just a happy crush, one that will never flourish further. 
So you find yourself nodding to his request to which he grins. But before he can say anything, the light comes through the window. He squints as it hits his face, raising his hand to shield his eyes.
“Here, you can put your number and social media then I’ll send you my schedule.” The boyish grin on his face alongside the sunlight that makes him glow is a sight the universe has gifted to you.
You’ve read all about protagonists being bewitched by the presence of another, but works of literature have not prepared you to experience the same. For once, you wish you could find the right words to describe the sight but all you can think of is what a pleasure it is to be seeing this at the start of your day—you can only hope that your happy crush remains that way.
CHAPTER TWO: LITTLE WOMEN
The later hours of the day dawned upon you. The fluorescent overhead lights are dim as only the lamps situated at every table shine bright; you enjoy them for they never make the library bleak. The wooden interior found in every corner of this library reminds you of your own back in your childhood home. But the main act of the show is the books; the wide selection they offer has you always here at every possible hour, whether it may be to study or to possibly read for leisure.
You usually find yourself alone on most occasions spent here. If you found yourself working on a group project, you would usually opt to have such meetings at the study hall situated a few buildings away. It made sense to have those in a place where you could freely talk versus a library where it would be limited to occasional chatter or whispers. Today, however, is an exception, for you now sit across from your partner for your first paired work for Mr. Hwang’s class.
“I don’t usually spend my time here, but it’s nice,” Eric voices out as he looks around, taking in the sight of his surroundings. There were barely any students in the library around these hours. Usually, it would be you and some familiar faces you recognized because of the numerous instances you stayed here.
You’re not sure why you didn’t push for the study hall, but Eric’s explanation for choosing this place made sense. If you were going to study literature, why not do it in a place that is filled to the brim with it? It’s convenient if you need to quickly pull out a book because you’re already there. But the reality is that you liked this space as your own—somewhat like a part of the university that you believe to reflect the intimate parts of you.
You hum while you look down at your iPad where your notes are all scribbled down. “I’m always here. I spend most of my time studying or reading here.” You look up to Eric whose gaze is trained on you. Oddly enough, it feels like his eyes sparkle despite how dim the environment may be.
With that, you break eye contact with him as you look over a few tables away where you notice students who you knew only by their faces. “Yeah, like I know some of the people there just because we always seem to stay in the library until the closing hours.”
He hums before asking, “Do you know their names?” You shake your head before looking back at him.
“I only know the names of the librarians and staff. I’ve never been bothered to know the names of the other students, but we still say hi whenever we pass by each other.”
He can only nod at your words. “Sorry about interrupting the discussion, we can go back to it.”
“It’s fine.” You cannot help but smile as you shake your head. “It was a break we needed to take.”
He shoots you that boyish grin—one you’ve grown fond of after seeing him every week for class—before he continues, “So, we were talking about the confession scene of Laurie.”
“Ah, that one,” you cut him off as you lean back in your chair.
He chuckles for a moment. “So, what are your thoughts on the scene?”
You let out a sigh before saying, “Well, I am 100% on Jo’s side. I mean, she has every right to decline a man’s confession, especially if she has all these aspirations she wants to achieve.” You bite on the inside of your cheek as you recall the passages in your head. “And the audacity for Laurie to be, I guess, “jealous” of Professor Bhaer is unreasonable. I mean, it’s clear she doesn’t have room for anything romantic in her life, and I think that should be respected.”
“But,” Eric quickly scrolls through his notes found on his laptop. “Don’t we learn later on that Jo ends up longing for love in the end? Doesn’t she end up wanting both—a chance to pursue her dreams while also longing to be in love?”
You cannot help but chuckle at his counterargument. “Yes, but I think that this book was written poorly. I mean, we learned in the earlier chapters that Jo did not want to marry, and didn’t we also learn that Alcott only wrote Jo and Bhaer marrying each other because her publishers forced her?”
Eric hums for a moment. “I mean, we do learn that. But I think another way to look at it is that Jo was not ready to let someone take up such an important space at that period of her life. And I think it’s perfectly fine for her to realize later on that what she thought then is not what she wants after all.” With pursed lips, he lets his gaze flicker away from the laptop and back to you. “I know we put relevance to the context of the author, but I think it’s fine to derive our own interpretations of the text despite what the author intended, you know? That’s at least what I learned in my Art Appreciation class.”
Your partner for this assignment brought up valid points. It’s not like he was telling you to agree entirely with his interpretation of the later sequence of Little Women. Instead, he was engaging in discourse with you, sharing what he thought of the scene to provide a different perspective.
“I just,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I just think Jo’s character was so revolutionary in the field of classics. I’ve read so much about women being viewed as individuals who are only meant to marry, but authors never put importance into their aspirations. I think that’s why I loved Jo’s character.” When you notice that Eric keeps his gaze on you without any sign that he’ll interrupt, you decide to continue. “She clearly had her priorities and wasn’t willing to let the idea of romance get in the way.”
Eric’s expression slowly starts to shift into confusion. Despite your words speaking on Jo’s character, it was starting to make sense to both of you that these sentiments came from a personal standpoint.
“Is this you speaking from experience?”
For a moment, you think of lying to the boy who sits across from you. You didn’t want to hear whatever comments he would make of your own choice to keep your love life as lackluster as possible. Yet, his eyes speak thousands of words—all revolving around curiosity. And you realize that maybe Eric won’t judge you. After all, when has he ever shown you that he would criticize you?
You sigh as you let your eyes look down at your notes. “I’m not looking for a relationship, or love, in general. I don’t think I have the time to even sustain one, and I care too much about my studies to even consider it.” You look back at Eric whose doe eyes still seem to shine.
He nods, letting silence take over. Your answer hangs in the air, almost as if you two needed it to marinate further. That is until Eric decides to break the silence.
“Do you ever get jealous of what you read?” You cannot help but tilt your head at his question. He shakes his head, trying to gather the right words to say. “I mean, you’ve read so many books, and I’m sure many of them have revolved around the theme of love and romance, especially the classics. Do you not want to experience that for yourself?”
Eric’s question seemed to be rooted in genuine curiosity. And you cannot help but ponder over his words.
It’s true that you would find yourself longing to experience the wonders of love that writers seem to talk about. It would be untrue if you said you didn’t give the idea a second thought—what would it be like to allow yourself to enjoy romance all while you study for your degree? But then you remember that there wasn’t anyone, really, to have you consider such. It was only an idea you would think about but never proceed with—there was no one to take up that space in your life to begin with.
So you sigh, shaking your head as you look back down at your notes, and say, “It’s not like anyone has given me a reason to reconsider.” You leave it at that, deciding not to indulge in the topic any further. And Eric only hums, looking back at his notes.
You take this opportunity to review your notes, recollecting every detail that is worth discussing with Eric for the upcoming presentation. Unbeknownst to you, however, your partner has his mind preoccupied with another matter—what can he do to become the reason you consider?
CHAPTER THREE: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE
The moon may be shining brightly tonight, but you’ll never know. All huddled up in the library, the lamp on your table shines over your laptop and sprawled-out notes. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in this library. All you know is that you still have papers to accomplish and exams to study for.
But at least you were going through this in the comfort of your favorite spot in the university for they seemed to keep the library open all day during midterm season. And at least you had someone there to keep you company during this mess.
“This paper is impossible,” Eric complains as he rubs his eyes from exhaustion. You’re sure it’s past midnight. “What did you write your paper on?”
You cannot help but yawn. “Uh, I wrote it on Still I Rise just because it answers the prompt pretty well.” With droopy eyes, you look at your friend who now leans his head on his arm that is propped up on the table.
“Man, that’s good.” You cannot help but chuckle at his reaction. “I’m hesitant about using a poem just because I’m scared I won’t be able to share my thoughts well. Like, I know I talked about how we interpret the text as something that matters, but sometimes I cannot make sense of what these poets are saying.” His tired expression shows how long he’s been pondering on what to write.
With the paper due a few days from now, you were sure Eric was pressured to think of anything to write about. So you decide to lean back in your chair, brainstorming for anything to help him. Yet, you only draw a blank, clearly exhausted from all the studying and writing you’ve been doing.
His cackle comes out of the blue. Your eyes snap to his face, seeing that his crinkled eyes are set on you. You don’t miss how the students around your area shush him. Eric is suddenly aware of how loud he is as he cannot help but sink into his chair out of embarrassment.
“Sorry, the expression you had on your face made me laugh,” he shyly admits.
You frown at him before saying, “Fine, you’re on your own now.” Your eyes dart back to your laptop.
“Okay, wait!” He quietly exclaims as he grabs onto your forearm. Your eyes drift to his hand that rests on your arm, slowly drifting away from exhaustion. Before you can comment, he retracts his hand. “I would love your help.”
As your eyes settle on him, you notice the pout that rests on his lips. His doe eyes still manage to sparkle in the dimly lit room. The sight warms your heart—you almost let your calm demeanor falter.
“I wish I could help but for once, I can’t think of anything.” As you say those words, the cold air hits your skin. You cross your arms as a shiver runs down your spine.
Somehow, Eric is quick to catch on to your behavior. You watch how he pulls off his hoodie, hair ruffled from the action. And before you know it, he hands it to you.
“Here,” he says as he drops it right beside your laptop, covering your notes. Although you shake your head, he can only roll his eyes. “You clearly need it more than I do.”
With no sign that he’ll back down, you cannot help but sigh. You grab onto the piece of clothing and slip it on you, getting a whiff of a fruity and spicy scent that clings onto it. With how big the hoodie is, it almost acts like a blanket. And when you look back at Eric, you notice the soft expression that takes over his face—a smile that is enough to warm your heart.
“I think you should take a nap.” His suggestion has you shaking your head. “You’re clearly tired.”
You roll your eyes before going back to your laptop. “I can’t or else I’ll be behind on my tasks.”
“Okay, but if you only take an hour to nap, I’m sure you’ll feel well-rested enough to work better.”
Your friend made a valid point. At the rate you were going, you were barely absorbing anything. But you didn’t want to slack off nor did you want to fall behind on your studies.
And as if he notices your worries, he says, “I’ll make sure to wake you up an hour from now.”
You cannot hold back the smile that appears on your face. Somehow, Eric knew all the right words to say in the short span of time he has gotten to know you. And before you know it, your arms settle on the table as you find your chin settling on them. Whether it would be from pure exhaustion or Eric’s persuasion, you found yourself settling in a position good enough to allow yourself to nap.
The victory smile that takes over Eric’s features is one you wish you could smack off his face for you know it’s because you ended up listening to him, but it’s also one you want to store in your memories. His grin is enough to have you smiling back, though you bury the bottom half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, getting another whiff of his perfume.
He then goes back to his laptop, scrolling away at what you can assume to be the instructions for the essay required by Mr. Hwang. As you watch him ponder, you cannot help but take in his features; from his strong jaw all the way to his eyes that manage to easily shift between a strong glare to a soft gaze. He is someone sculpted by the deities—you weren’t sure why the universe chose you to be graced by his presence.
In your time knowing him, you knew that he presented himself as a goofball to many. He became the life of the party, per se, for he managed to create a comfortable atmosphere for everyone.
And yet, you knew that it’s only a mask he chooses to wear for the sake of others. In these moments, you learn that he is more than just a childish guy. Past all the layers, he is profound—you first learned that when he shared his interpretation of Jo’s character. You hope that he can find more moments where he’ll expose that side to you.
You move your chin to rest on your arms. “Can I ask what’s your favorite book?” Your sudden question has his eyes snapping at you. “I just realized that we’ve known each other for half a semester because of an English Literature class, but I never bothered to ask about your favorite book.”
He cannot help but chuckle before saying, “It’s The Notebook.” His answer has your face contorting into disappointment. “Hey, what’s wrong with that?” The way he gets defensive has you erupting into a giggle.
“It’s just okay for me. I didn’t enjoy it that much when I read it.”
He furrows his eyebrows not due to disapproval but genuine curiosity. “Okay, so what’s your favorite book then?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” The answer leaves your mouth quickly, almost like it’s second nature to answer the question with that title.
He hums before admitting, “I’ve never read it.”
“Yeah, it shows.” The remark leaves your mouth without letting a second thought come. You notice the way Eric’s expression shifts into a scornful one, and you cannot help but giggle. “I just think that you might reconsider what your favorite book is after reading Pride and Prejudice, you know?” He only nods at your words.
You let out a sigh. “I actually want to reread that book after midterms are done.” Your blinks are slow, exhaustion taking over your body.
Eric is quick to notice how sleepy you’re getting. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up an hour from now.” All you do is hum before snuggling the lower half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes now closed.
A few minutes pass, and you hear a chair screech softly. You can only assume that Eric had to use the washroom. But when you heard the chair move once more only a few minutes later, you were sure that he only had to get something.
As you hear him clear his throat for a moment, you keep your eyes closed. You try your best to not show you’re awake. And once more minutes have passed, you decide that the coast is clear.
Once you open one eye, you notice that Eric is leaning back in his chair with a book in his hand. He reads it intently, unaware of your gaze on him. You let your gaze drift to the cover of the book, and it takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. In his hands is a copy of Pride and Prejudice, the same one you found yourself revisiting just to read your favorite passages.
As you let your eyes close, a smile shows on your lips. Thankfully, it is hidden by the sleeves your face is snuggled into. With the sight replaying in your head accompanied by his perfume, your heart warms at the thought of him. You can only hope that he’ll love that book as much as you do—you can only hope that this infatuation will pass.
CHAPTER FOUR: EMMA
The season of fall has come; the sky is a patchwork of hues of orange; the leaves have turned to shades of brown; the wind has gotten cooler. Long gone was the heat that summer brought—you were dying to experience the joys of autumn.
Thankfully, you finished your last class for the day. As students piled out of the classroom, you were taking your time tidying your things. For once, you didn’t have any tasks to accomplish within the day which meant tonight would be time for you to enjoy, all snuggled up in bed as you finally reread Pride and Prejudice.
You were satisfied with the grades you received from your midterm assessments. Somehow, your efforts spent studying reflected well in the feedback your professors provided. Now, you can reward yourself with reading your favorite book.
When you exit the classroom, you expect yourself to go straight back to your dorm. However, the sight of Eric Sohn standing outside with his back leaning on the wall is what disrupts your plans.
“Eric? How did you know I was here?” Your shocked expression has him chuckling.
“We exchanged schedules, remember?” He says as he stands up straight, walking closer to you. You two stood in the middle of the hallway with little to no students in sight. “I kind of got lost, if I’m going to be honest.”
As he admits that information, you cannot help but giggle. “I mean, this is where most of my major classes are. That’s why I’m surprised to see a Hotel Culinary Arts student like you here.” He shoots you that boyish grin which has you smiling back. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Do you perhaps need help with the upcoming assessment for Mr. Hwang’s class?” You attempt to joke as you remain unaware of the reason behind Eric’s visit.
But when he pulls out a book from behind his back, your smile shifts into a shocked expression. In his hands is a new copy of Pride and Prejudice, one different from the one that he was reading in the library that one night. As your eyes zero on the book he holds, you do not pay attention to whatever expression Eric may have.
“I finally got around to reading your favorite book, and I have to admit that you’re right. I think this might be my new favorite book,” he hands the book to you. Your hands trail over the cover, still shocked that he ended up finishing it. “And I wanted to finish it before you reread it.”
You were expecting him to only read a few chapters, but for him to find enough time to finish it before you could pick it up? You realized you were screwed.
Your hands find themselves flipping through the pages—and holy shit, there are notes and scribbles all over the pages. “I wanted to annotate it just so you can also read my reactions and interpretations as you reread it.” Your mouth parts open at his words, clearly in awe of the action.
The pages are littered with underlines and circles, highlighting passages and quotes that seem to resonate with Eric. On the margins, you notice notes that are simple one-liners and others that are long enough to fill up the pages’ spaces.
“I–I don’t,” you look up to the boy in front of you. With his smile still plastered on his face, you do everything in you to find the right words to say. Yet, it’s impossible—this is the first time someone has done this for you.
He chuckles at your lack of words and says, “I would love to stay and hear how much you enjoy this, but I unfortunately have a class to get to all the way in the Culinary Arts building.” He lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it as if it’s his way to snap you out of your trance.
But the thing is you are not in any way out of touch with reality. Not only did he give you an annotated copy of your favorite book but he waited until your last class in a building that is all the way on the opposite side of where he needs to be. And at this moment you knew you were doomed—that this budding infatuation is turning into something more.
“I’ll see you next week in class, okay?” He says with a smile. You can only nod, still unable to speak. “Or tomorrow, if you’d like.” And before you can question him, he quickly makes his way out of the building. You let your eyes watch his figure that continues to sprint away.
As soon as he’s gone, you look back down at the book in your hands. You flip through the pages as you still remain in shock at what he gifted you. That is until you notice a post-it note stuck on the last page. When you open it to the page, you expect it to be an index of what his annotations mean. Instead, it is a message directed towards you, and you cannot help but feel your heartstrings tug at his words.
would you be interested in going on a reading date with me?
❑ yes ❑ no </3
p.s. you can just text me your answer :) maybe we can plan something tomorrow (that is if you see it by the time i give this to you)
And you tell yourself that this is wrong—that you should not be considering his offer no matter how friendly it may be. But with how he’s been treating you, you almost hope that this isn’t just him being friendly. You want to be on the receiving end of his affection—of his love.
It seems stupid to go back on your word of refusing to entertain love. Your plans are focused on graduating summa cum laude without ever allocating space for someone to take up your time. But is it wrong that someone has you reconsidering what you originally thought? Is it a sin for you to want to experience the joys of love despite your past reluctance?
So for once, you fully understand Jo’s character—you want to achieve in your endeavors all while experiencing the joys of love. And there’s nothing wrong with having that mindset after all.
The season of autumn is your favorite; the sight of leaves falling is a sight you cannot help but enjoy watching. In the same way leaves fall from the tree to the ground, you have fallen for Eric Sohn.
CHAPTER FIVE: SONNET 18
“So, what’s your favorite scene from Pride and Prejudice?” You decide to ask Eric as you two pass through shelves filled to the brim with antique books.
He hums as he follows closely behind you. “I think it was the first time Lizzie and Mr. Darcy danced together.”
You glance at the boy behind you, humming along with his answer. “Yeah, I really like Austen’s use of the motif of dance.” You come to a halt as you stand in front of a shelf full of classics. “I mean, she uses dance to show attraction between Mr. Darcy and Lizzie without them even realizing it.” Once you turn your head to face Eric, you notice a smile on his lips.
“Yeah, they’re remarkable,” he mutters as his eyes remain on you.
Under his gaze, your knees start to get weak. You cannot help but gulp as you look back to the shelves with cheeks dusted red.
Today, you and Eric were in the middle of a date—not a reading one, but an actual date. At first, you were nervous about having lunch with him mainly because you weren’t sure what to talk about. But he found a way to lead the conversation, making sure to build an environment where you two could talk about anything and everything.
Eric decided to bring you to an antique bookstore near campus considering that you two share an affinity for reading—though you were more interested compared to him. The selection they have covers fictional classics all the way to nonfiction recipe books. It’s definitely smaller than what the library offers but bigger than another bookstore you tend to frequent.
As your eyes scan through the collection, your eyes catch onto a copy of Sense and Sensibility, another book by Jane Austen that you’ve been meaning to pick up. “Ah! I’ve been meaning to read this,” you exclaim as you pull it out. With your eyes still looking through the selection, you spot another book you’ve wanted to read for a while. “Oh, they also have Wuthering Heights!” As you grab onto the other book, you look down to admire the covers. 
While you’re entranced by all the antique books standing in front of you, Eric cannot help but chuckle at your reaction. You whip your head only to see that god-forbidden boyish grin on his face—the same one that got you hooked onto him at the first meeting. He leans his side on the bookshelf all while he stares at you.
With that, you frown as you tilt your head. “Why are you laughing?” The question that leaves your mouth is out of genuine curiosity.
“No reason,” he starts off. “You’re pretty, especially when you talk about books.”
Your eyebrows raise in shock, thrown off by the sudden compliment. Eric has never been the type to tell you such during your time knowing him but hearing him say it now has your knees weak. Suddenly, all resolve was gone and you had no idea how to respond. 
And before you know it, you say, “You’re pretty, too.”
The words come out quickly without a second thought, and only when they leave your mouth do you realize how weird you are for saying such. But you notice the way his smile gets bigger, and you cannot help but feel your cheeks warm up once more out of flusters and embarrassment.
“Are you done picking out the books you want?”
“Uh, yeah,” you start off as you glance at your books. “What are you going to get?”
He hums as he stands up straight, looking at the shelf in front of you two. “Do you have another book recommendation for me?” He looks back at you.
You bite the inside of your cheek as you hum, thinking of a book. “Maybe Jane Eyre? By Charlotte Brontë?” You’re ready to tell him the synopsis of the book, but he doesn’t spare you another second for he grabs the book.
“Okay,” he smiles as he raises the book up. “I’ll pay for your books while I’m at it.”
You immediately shake your head at his words. “Huh? No, you don’t need to.” You hold the books close to your chest. “You paid for lunch already.”
He rolls his eyes before extending his free hand out to you. “It’s fine. I want to buy these books for you.” Your eyes are wide as you slowly feel yourself moving the stack of books away from your chest. “So long as we get to have that reading date, I’m happy to buy them for you.”
You would deny his offer, but you hate to admit that the idea of having someone you like buy the books you’ve been wanting to read has your heart warming. Buying you books, reading your recommendations, and annotating a book just for you—they’re the easiest ways to your heart, and he figured them out.
With that, you find yourself handing the two books to him. He smiles as he glances at the three books in his hands. And before you know it, he quickly links his arm with you as he drags you to the cashier. You don’t know how you got lucky to know a guy like him. 
CHAPTER SIX: SO TIRED BLUES
Usually, the hours of the night are the ones you find most comfort in. It’s the illusion of being away from the hours that demanded you to interact with others. You love spending your time alone doing whatever, whether it may be your own hobbies or the coursework you need to accomplish. This time of day had you in a state of tranquility, at most, for you were comforted with the idea that nothing can disturb you.
But for once, you weren’t calm during these hours. As you stare at your shared document that barely had any input from your groupmates, you feel your sanity slipping away. This assessment is due two days from now—what can your groupmates offer during this time crunch?
You lean your head in your hands as your eyes rest on your keyboard. As you let out a groan, you cannot help but grip your hair out of frustration. 
“What’s wrong?”
As you look at your friend who sits beside you, you cannot help but pout. “Eric, I can’t do this.”
Despite these hours being reserved for your alone time, you chose to spend these with him. The date was a success—you two were practically inseparable at this point. But you two were still going on dates without any expectation, still exploring whatever you two truly felt towards each other.
To be fair, you were still hesitant about jumping into a relationship with him. You still weren’t sure how possible it was for you to handle your studies along with being in a relationship. And you hate to admit it but you’re terrified—what if the love you read about is nothing like what you’ll experience with Eric?
So for now, you’ll only allow yourself to enjoy what you have now. It is only when the universe forces you to confront these sentiments that you’ll figure out the answer.
He crosses his arm as he leans back in the booth you two sat on. “You want to tell me about it?” And for a moment, you consider not doing such. You didn’t want to waste both yours and Eric’s time complaining about shitty and unresponsive groupmates.
But he doesn’t give you a moment to indulge any further in those worries, for he says, “We have enough time for you to talk about it.” He shows you a smile, one that is enough to bring you comfort. “Let me become someone you can lean on.”
And with that, you find yourself spilling out your frustrations. “I’ve just been so stressed, you know? My group mates are so shit, I’m not sure how good of an output we’ll be able to submit on time,” you start off. “I’ve been reminding them nonstop to do their work, and they just keep ignoring me. And it doesn’t help that my professor doesn’t give a fuck.”
Eric cannot help but let out a hiss of annoyance at your situation. “That’s terrible.”
“I know, right? And this assessment is at least 30% of my grade. How am I going to get an A in this class if my groupmates refuse to help?” You cannot help but groan as you lean back.
As you stare up at the ceiling, you tongue the inside of your cheek as you ponder over the situation you’re in. And you’re not sure what takes over you when you share your next set of thoughts. “I just–I want to achieve so many things, but it’s so hard when you’re not supported.”
Despite your eyes staring up at the ceiling, you can feel Eric’s gaze on you as you reveal a part you’ve never shared with him. So you let out a sigh before saying, “I know I talk so much about wanting to ace all my subjects and graduate with flying colors, but some days it’s hard to keep up with that type of mentality.” You let your eyes close for a moment. “It’s hard to aspire for so many things when you don’t have someone to fall back on.”
Although you have the passion to achieve the different goals you set for yourself, it becomes impossible to keep that fire going on most days. Sure, you had friends from your course and extracurriculars, but they were never ones you could find yourself going to easily. In most instances, you would be by yourself as you were scared to insert yourself into people’s circles.
With that lack of a support system, it became difficult to attain your goal. Although you try your hardest to keep your mind set on the prize, you cannot deny that you find yourself slipping into burnout in most instances.
“I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of burnout, you know? And I know most people would say to take a break or to indulge in a hobby, but,” you look at the boy beside you whose face is full of concern. “I’m exhausted from reading.”
It’s something you didn’t like to admit out loud. Eric knew you as the person who would read at any hour if they could—the one who wishes they could consume books even while asleep. So it hurts to say that you were growing tired of the hobby—the one thing that provided you escapism.
You let out a bitter chuckle as your tired eyes drifted away from him, staring off into the distance. “It gets hard to read when all you do in a course is read. It requires so much energy, and most days I just don’t have that.” As you say those words, you let out a sigh. “And even when I forced myself to read, whether it would be for my own pleasure or a requirement for school, I could never digest the passages.”
Eric hums at your reveal. And when he reaches out for your hand, it feels as if all your worries are lifted off your shoulders. “Is there any way that I can help?”
You cannot help but chuckle as your eyes rest back on him. With his worried expression, you only show him a small smile. “No,” you shake your head. “But it’s fine. I’m glad that someone listened to me.”
It’s not like you were aiming to have your problems solved by him. If anything, you realize how much weight was lifted off of you after admitting these to a friend.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I can’t do much to help you, especially with your group work.”
You can only hum as you take a deep breath. “Yeah. I just need to take over their parts and remove their names, I guess.” As you say that, Eric cannot help but nod along with a chuckle leaving his mouth.
You’re about to get back to the work you were dreading until he asks you something. “Hey, I don’t know how much this would help, but maybe I can read you some passages of where I am in The Awakening if you’d like.” Your eyes widen at his suggestion. “I’m sure you’re way ahead of me but this could be a refresher, you know? While you take a break, I can be your audiobook.”
And you cannot hold back the smile that shows on your lips. Somehow, Eric is always looking out for you, whether it be through keeping your love for literature going or making sure you are well-rested on most occasions.
With that, you find yourself leaning your head on his shoulder. As you let your eyes close, you mutter, “Yes, please.”
He chuckles at the way you seem to melt on his shoulder. And just like that, he starts to recite the words of Chopin.
As his voice fills your ears, you’re reminded of the first time you first met Eric. Something about his voice is enough to ease your worries—to bring you into a state of tranquility. And somehow, he became the late hours of the day for you—you’ve managed to find peace through his presence for all he did is support you. 
CHAPTER SEVEN: HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS
It seems like the season of fall is about to end. It’s getting colder than usual and you cannot help but wear more layers than you typically would during autumn. Although winter is about to come, however, you were seated on a picnic blanket with your back leaning against a tree trunk. And on your lap is where Eric’s head lays as he continues to read Jane Eyre.
While you were trying to read your copy of Wuthering Heights, you couldn’t help but glance at Eric every once in a while. After going on multiple dates with him throughout the semester, you weren’t sure exactly where you two were in your relationship. And you know you should take the initiative to ask, but you didn’t want to say the wrong words.
“Eric,” you call out his name as your voice quivers. He looks away from his book to stare right back at you. As he hums in curiosity, you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you sit beside me?” You notice his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “During the first meeting, I mean. Why did you choose to sit beside me when there were other vacant spots?” As you say those words, you spot how his mouth parts open in realization. However, it shifts into a smug grin.
“Cause I thought you were cute.” His reply has your eyes widening in shock. You knew Eric tends to be straightforward, but you weren’t expecting that to be his answer. You were sure that your cheeks were warm at his reasoning.
He then sits up, now face-to-face with you. “Well, that’s what I thought at first. But I got to know you more through the times we studied together, you know?” With his eyes staring intently back at yours, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.
“I mean, the first time I got to know you, you were talking about how you wouldn’t entertain the idea of romance, so I couldn’t help but become interested in you.” His hand reaches out for yours that rests on your lap. “And throughout our time together, I learned about all your hopes and dreams and your love for literature.”
You notice the way he takes a deep breath in as his eyes close momentarily. “I couldn’t help but like you,” he admits. As soon as he opens his eyes, he is met by yours that are wide as they stare back at him.
“I’m sure it wasn’t a secret with how we were going on dates, but I thought I should vocalize it now,” he starts off as he looks down at your interlocked hands. “I was starting to wish that these dates would give you enough of a reason to reconsider what you first thought—that maybe I could become a reason for you to reconsider after all.”
But as soon as he looks back at you, you feel your heartstrings tug as he draws circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. And the next thing he says is enough to warm your heart. “But I would never push you into a relationship with me. I know you care about your studies, and you worry too much about your grades. Sometimes, I wish I could tell you to take it easy.” He cannot help but giggle as he says those words, causing you to laugh along with him.
“But I hope you know that I’ll be here to support you, whether as a friend or as your boyfriend if you’ll have me.”
And you realize that you’ve been wrong all this time. You’ve fallen under this idea that the road to success means to get rid of all distractions—that love is nothing but a hindrance to the path you want to take. But it’s not that you can only have one or the other—you could choose to have both if you made the effort to do so.
In your time knowing Eric Sohn, you learned the joys of love even if you weren’t signing up for such joys came in the form of him. To you, he is what the poets describe as love embodied. From the first time you two worked together all the way to midterm season until your breakdown, you realize that he is the support you were seeking out all this time. And so you wonder to yourself how lucky you can be to receive something you weren’t seeking but still desperately craved.
So you let yourself lean forward, your face inching closer to his. His breath hitches at your action. As your eyes flicker down to his lips for a second, you cannot help but hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your eyes meet his, and you notice the way he holds his breath. So you cannot help but let yourself smile for a moment.
And before he knows it, your lips crash into his. Your hand reaches out to the side of his face while your arm wraps around the back of his neck, holding him close. His hand holds onto your waist, drawing shapes on it with his thumb.
As your noses bump against each other, Eric cannot help but giggle in the middle of the kiss. You two part away as you continue to look at each other. “So, will you let me be yours?” And his question is enough to pull on your heartstrings.
It’s the phrasing that gets to you—his choice of words to let him be yours versus you being his is what has you realizing just how much he likes you. It’s this whole idea that you didn’t have to surrender anything to him for he is willing to build around you.
But the reality is you would do the same for him—you’re willing to make space for him to take up in your life the same way he already has done for you.
And so you say, “You can be mine if you let me be yours.”
The boyish grin you first found yourself falling in love with appears on his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You wish you could tell your past self that nothing goes according to plan. What you may have first thought is not what may push through in the end. While you were never signing up to find love in your years in university, the universe decided to give you a reason to reconsider. And now you know that you can have both—that you can achieve your aspirations while still being in love. All it took was time, effort, support, and a boy named Eric Sohn to have you believe that.
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morningstargirl666 · 1 year
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Tagged by @garglyswoof and @purplesigebert. I honestly don’t rewatch films as much nowadays, since I just watch a LOT of films in general and don’t have any remaining time to rewatch stuff as well. But I do have a load of comfort movies I think, so here we go.
Top 10 Comfort Movies (in no particular order)
1. Ever After (1998) Because Gabby made an excellent point, that movie is amazing, it’s pretty historically accurate and has some good moral life lessons thrown in. Cinderella movies, just in general, are a comfort movie for me, and I went through a phase when I was younger of just watching every variation ever made (even the shitty versions, much to my horror).
2. A Cinderella Story (2004) Again, it’s a cinderella movie, and an iconic one at that. I’m a secret romantic at heart.
3. Deathnote (2017) Yes I realise this was generally hated by all. But this was my first introduction to Death Note (I binge watched the anime series straight after don’t worry) and whatever your grievances for this movie, William Dafoe is brilliant at whatever he does, and playing Ryuk is no different. For a live action adaptation, I thought the design of Ryuk was pretty spot on and beautifully terrifying, and although the storyline crosses over into cheesy American, it’s easy to watch. Which is why it ended up as a comfort movie for me while I was taking my GCSEs - I often put it on in the background while working on my art coursework.
4. The Day After Tomorrow (2004) Here’s the thing guys - disaster movies are my comfort movies. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the bitter, Gen-Z in me, but I enjoy watching the world descend into chaos and destruction. They’re easy to watch, the good guys often prevail against the ruthless attack of nature herself in the end, and idk, I like seeing a little death, a little fire. I’m just made different. Sometimes the shittier the disaster movie the better, so I’m talking things like Greenland (2020), Geostorm (2017) etc. That being said, zombie movies also fall into this category, just love all kinds.
5. White House Down (2013) Along the similar vein as disaster movies, I love the-government-is-under-attack movies, so the Olympus Has Fallen (2013) trilogy too. Just something about very American, cheesy action movies that are just easy to watch, require no brain power, and are just a fun ride.
6. Don’t Look Up (2021) Did I mention disaster movies are my jam? This one is pretty political, but I’m British, so I think I also enjoyed it so much because I can just sit to the side, eating my popcorn, and watch as the shitshow enfolds like the chaos gremlin I am, with no true existential crisis about how doomed my country is. 
7. Inglorious Basterds (2009) Quentin Tarantino is an amazing filmmaker on a whole, and although gory, brutal and - let’s face it - a little crazy, his movies are always a blast to watch. And you get to see the characters kill a load of Nazis, inlcuding Hitler, so it’s a win win.
8. Love Actually (2003) Felt obligated to put another rom-com on here because I can be a normal person and watch rom-coms for comfort (I promise). It’s also a christmas movie, so like will only watch it around December, but eh, still counts.
9. The Impossible (2012) Another disaster movie, but it’s a true story this time, and I’ve re-watched this one a lot. It’s sad and angsty yes, but there’s something hopeful about the family reuniting after such a traumatic event, and how humanity comes together in crisis to help each other.
10. The Batman (2022) Maybe it’s become a comfort movie because I’ve rewatched it so many times for my dissertation but I really love this film, and I can’t get enough of it. I just love every aspect about it. And will get a craving where I’m like ‘I need to watch The Batman again’. And so I do.
Lol and that’s it. I will say I tend to watch Friends now if I want something on in the background, or just something to cheer me up. That’s my all-time piece of comfort media I tend to watch. Otherwise, these also work. And I love them all.
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Hi, just saw your post about your fav characters....Can I ask your your top 5 or 10 fav Disney characters and why you love them...?
EDIT: I am so sorry this took me so long to answer. I was doing a show and then Christmas happened and then I just let it stew!!
Lmao, sure! I'm not going to put the ones from the first post on here, because I've talked about them before. (But Stitch is still the top!! I'll also leave off Peter Pan and Cinderella) I'm not counting Marvel, Star Wars or Pixar; just Disney Animated Classics
Again, in no particular order, because that's too much stress.
1.) Jim Hawkins from Treasure Planet
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The angst! The arc! But most importantly, the gender!!! I watched it again recently and Jim's story is just!! So full of emotions!! His relationship with Silver - coming to terms with his absent dad - just very good stuff! (And for a 00s kid, he was the epitome of cool, lmaoo)
2.) Tiana from Princess and the Frog
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Again, similar to Cinderella, I relate to 'Dreams come true, but you have to put in the hard work for them.' Especially this last year (me and Tiana both worked two jobs!), and working on coursework. Now that I've finished my course, I'm still holing up most nights to polish off a manuscript I want to seriously get published. Tiana working so hard for her dreams is a big inspiration. I probably take the wrong message from the film, lol
3.) Anna from Frozen
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This is mostly because I cosplayed Anna, multiple times! I have her coronation dress and her blue dress! It was honestly more because my friend had the dress ready to go, than any real choice, which spawned getting brought a lot of Anna merch. But I do like her as a character; her determination and optimism and that she's honestly an awkward dork.
4.) Oliver from Oliver and Company
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I love Oliver Twist and I've loved ginger cats ever since I first watched Alien. So I have to love Oliver. He is just...a little boy...there's not much substance to him but there doesn't need to be: he's an orphan kitten and his job is to be lovable.
5.) Aladdin
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The best Disney man? He's charming and handsome and dedicated! I thought I would have more to justify it, but not really, lol - he's a very nice man! The magic carpet ride, the puppy eyes, the underlying queerness of 'Genie, make me a prince!'
(I was also cast as Aladdin in the school play; a big gender moment for me!)
6.) Koda from Brother Bear
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Brother Bear was one of my favourites as a kid, and I loved Koda. Like Oliver, he's - cute - and cuddly. And that's enough for him to earn a spot on the list, because my standards a low!
7.) Jiminy Cricket
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I do think Kingdom Hearts influences this one: I think his role in the games is cute! And the idea of him being a sidekick/guide is definitely story material I'm toying with. Idk, I just find him charming. Maybe it's because the film is vintage now..maybe it's because I have a lot of cute cross stitch patterns with him on...
8.) Taran from The Black Cauldron
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But, uh, not to be pretentious: he's better in the Chronicles of Prydain books. That's not hugely fair, because there's five books and The Black Cauldron is more a mash-up of the first two, so Taran's arc is longer and more spread out in the novels. The sword is dealt with a lot more poingantly, and the reveal of his parents? Very good!
With the Disney version I guess its just that he's Arthur if Arthur was a little more fun and a little more flawed. Taran's kind of a jerk, but he learns to be a hero. And that's catnip for me.
9.) Judy Hopps from Zootopia
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(Unfortunately.) I don't have great feelings about Judy's job, or her policework, but I watched Zootopia a lot before moving out to go to uni, and really related to moving into some shoddy places persuing a goal that might not happen. I do love how upbeat Judy is; her optimism is a good rule to live by.
(The above gif was definitely me having a great time at the uni organised disco playing Busted, next to a housemate who was babysitting me until he had to walk me to the bus stop so I could home. (I had work early the next morning.))
10.) Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland
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I really love Alice in Wonderland, but my favourite has always been the Cheshire Cat. I do love a cat, and the fact that he was pink and purple was the best to me as a child. I just think he's neat!
(Disney stop putting him on villains merchandise he is just a funky little guy!)
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slyshyfoxy · 1 year
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Yo idk what the fuck have been going these days especially today I bump into some lgbtq ppl I think my miss today is I went to tell Megan about the issues that I had with faith I think big ass wrong move but I think at that point of time is just me panicking about it
And idk I think I’m too stressed or hard on myself these few days that I feel fking lost like about the faith situation also, honestly I think it has already ended, and she’s a god damn player bro, why do I still keep thinking about being bothered by her….. and I shdt have mention to ppl so much about it and care about it minimally, I dk why but this trimester I am doing badly cause of drama and all , I think I not gonna talk about it anymore. Focus on my studies , bro if u remod alr the loss is on u u know, like u remod u need take a whole new mod 2/3 months to do ur work u sure u want this? Just study and graduate no matter whatever u feeling right now is temporary , like feels like shit ah but u gotta get ur shit together; if u feel is too difficult and overwhelming for u just fucking cry and get over it and curse abit and just move on, move on by living in the present and having fun with ur friends, Tmr just go sch and do maths project ok?
Tmr I gonna do coursework for struct like try to finish it all, if not I’m very behind time alr. Which I am , I mean I could totally study now, which I will, stop fucking torturing urself with bad thoughts can anot don’t be loser u are just 22 and u got more lives to live and be happy.
Yesh things to know about it is faith and u are over, shes probably just playing with u ; and honestly I don’t think I fully even like her, u want an alcoholic to be ur gf?? No way LOL, u want someone to always get drunk and then have many shit outside ? No way DOOD LOL, like wtf no thanks hehe, and secondly a cheater, u can deal with it? And lastly no ambition….. like bruh, Bu Hao bah, the life I want is a luxurious life and she’s not even in the picture of all of it. Thanks for reminding my own self about this
And now I want you to feel proud so I’m gonna write stuffs that I’m proud of myself of so I can do even better in life. As much as I counted my bad things , why I didn’t praise myself for good things? Giving all the self love to myself
Such as being a TOP fsc for august and sept at age 22 who can do that ? Not everyone….
Jugggling and not giving up on school in SIT to get a cert, while working as an FSC.
Not giving up ⬆️ in my studies, even tho I’m very behind time.
Trying my best to survive, breaking bad cycles 🔁, trying to be consistent, acknowledging my mistakes , trying my best to be happy
Trying to be the best for myself, doing this journal thing. Don’t worry Jenny u will be fine, like is just temporary, if fail just remod only, take a bit longer time than others but always come out at the top later on. Jiayous !
U have many friends who care for u such as,
Marcus, eequan, Celest, kris, yz, putri, huiyi, Shankar , haney …. And so much more , ur parents, Megan, can’t u see it? Stay strong Jenny , u can do it, don’t worry about anything u can do it jyjy
- 24 Nov 2022
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jarofstyles · 4 years
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Crush
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A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d
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masterlist
pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
warnings: smut. FILTH. 
word count: 9.7k
Harry felt a bit creepy. 
It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty. 
Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.
Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous. 
Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that  he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line. 
Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying. 
“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.
Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit. 
“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.” 
Great. Already rambling. 
Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm. 
“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.
“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.
She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised. 
“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”
“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name. 
This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.
“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”
“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.
“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.
English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it. 
“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.
“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.
“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.
“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit. 
He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited. 
“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.
“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little  📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?
“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.
-----
Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as. 
‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’
Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down. 
‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’
‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’ 
She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to. 
‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’
That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.
——
Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more. 
He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.
If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note. 
‘I like your cardigan :)’
It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.
He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her. 
‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’ 
He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!
‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’ 
She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends. 
Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.
Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.
Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting. 
Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.
‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’
She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.
——
When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful. 
“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.
“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to. 
Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—
Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already. 
“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.
“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.
“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.
“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.
“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.
“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.
“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.
Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out. 
“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.  
“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault. 
“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it? 
“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.
They were meant to be studying. 
That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story. 
The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy. 
Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery. 
This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?
Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.
“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.
Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek. 
“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”
Harry blanked. 
Oh. fuck.
He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit. 
“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this. 
“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”
“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.” 
Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.
“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”
“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”
Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck. 
“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.
“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.
“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”
“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal. 
Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.
“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”
Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.
“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.
“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.
Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing. 
“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.
“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”
He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion. 
“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”
“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”
Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up. 
“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”
Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.
“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.
“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this. 
At least, that was until the doorbell rang. 
“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”
-------------------------------------------------
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angryschnauzer · 3 years
Note
Imagine you're Henry's neighbour, you've heard his conquests, have to admit you're a little jealous as they all sound happy. But it make you wonder if they are faking it.
You chat to friend on the phone whilst in the garden, not realising he can hear you.
The knock on your door later that evening was unexpected but when you see your hot neighbour there you have no idea why.
Until he offers to show you just why those other women were so happy
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Okay so i decided to continue my PE Teacher Henry series with this one, previous parts below:
Thigh Riding,  Jingle My Bells , An Epic Quickie
Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of Angst, talk of breakups, young idiots in love.
The Boy Next Door
The sun was shining and the sounds of late summer could be heard as the four of you settled on dining chairs that had been pulled out onto the ramshackle patio so you could celebrate moving into the shared house for your last year of Uni and doing Post-Graduate for teaching. Opening a chilled bottle of Echo Falls Rose Zinfandel, Marie sloshed it into the four waiting glasses, handing on to each of you;
“Here’s to just one more year of Uni, then we can be set free onto the world of teaching education rather than being taught!”
The four of you had all done your degree’s together, and by the end of your 3rd year you had moved into a shared house to save on halls of residence costs. When you’d all decided to attend the same Uni for your Post Graduates qualification it was the easy choice to decide to rent together, and you’d manage to snag a gorgeous multi level Victorian town house to rent for the year. The landlord had admitted a few things needed to be updated, but it was a short walk from campus so in exchange for a reduction in rent you’d found the perfect place. 
By the time the 3rd bottle of Zinfandel was opened you were all pleasantly merry, and from the advantage point of the raised patio where the garden dipped away as it went downhill you could see the road that ran alongside the house next door that yours was connected to. The corner house had looked a lot more appealing, but the rent had been considerably higher, so the compromise was that you’d rented the one away from the street corner. Just at that moment another Removals Truck pulled up alongside the corner house, and you could hear various cars park behind it, the sound of young male voices easily heard. It was obvious you had a group of male students living next door.
-
Three weeks into term and you were sat at the desk in your room, glaring at the wall in front of you. No matter how hard you tried to concentrate on how to teach fronted adverbials, the screams of the woman obviously on the verge on an orgasm from the guys house next door just reminded you of your lack of love life. With a sigh you set your pencil down and headed downstairs, away from the obvious now orgasming woman.
“Oh hey Hunny, thought you were catching up on some English Lit stuff?” Marie smiled as she poked at an egg she was attempting to fry on the small electric cooker.
“I was… until there was another screamer next door”
“Oh… another one?” she winced, knowing that from the 2nd day the guys next door had moved in, the one that was in the room next to you had been able to bed a different girl about every three nights or so.
You grabbed a glass of water and stepped outside, letting the sunshine warm your face. Opening your Motorolla Flip Phone you scrolled through your texts, smiling as you saw messages from last years classmates, checking in on how everyone was doing. You were vaguely aware of Marie coming outside, setting a plate down on the patio wall and the click of her lighter as she lit a Royals cigarette.
“You still miss him, don’t you?” she asked.
Pulling your gaze up to her, your eyes immediately growing wet. Nodding you swallowed the lump in your throat. Wrapping your arms around your body you looked out over the garden;
“I know… it’s stupid. Its been two years, and it was a mutual decision to part ways, but Henry was my first, you know? He was my first everything. We got together when we were sixteen, we made it through our A-Levels together, we even managed a year doing long distance when we didn’t get into the same Uni…”
“What about that dude… Chris? Didn’t you two have a thing a while back”
You let out a laugh;
“He loves his politics too much to commit to a relationship. If i had to listen to one more rant about Tony Blair whilst we tried to go out for dinner i would have screamed…”
You looked at Marie who was now halfway through her fried egg sandwich whilst her cigarette sat smouldering in the petunias that had mostly gone over for the season, and she gave you the ‘sad puppy eyes’ as she chewed. You let out a grunt of frustration;
“FUCK! I just want to not feel like this anymore! I’ve spent two years moping over Henry-fucking-Cavill, i just want to be able to get on with my post graduate and move on with my life without being constantly reminded of his skills every time i try to do any work in my room!”
-
Henry smiled and waved as Monica, no Michelle, no… wait… whoever made their way down the front steps of the house, closing the door with a sigh of relief. 
“Another one dude?”
Looking at where Anthony was coming down the stairs he nodded;
“Yup. Sorry about the noise” 
He followed his housemate through to the kitchen, switching the kettle on. He was now used to Henry’s conquests screaming the house down, but it was still fun to taunt Henry about the noise they would make;
“So, this was was faking it again?”
Henry looked at him in mock-shock;
“I can assure you none of them fake it”
Chucking teabags into two mugs Anthony chuckled;
“I know man. But i also know you’re still trying to fill the void she left. Its been two years man”
“Yeah, but she’s long gone, i’m her past, i’d only drag her down. She’s probably got some hot politics graduate about to propose to her. She wouldn’t want some dumb physical education ass like me anymore”
Handing him the strong cup of tea Anthony nodded;
“Whatever man, but i still think you should message her, you haven’t spoken in two years and you’re still hung up on her, one last try, huh?”
Heading out to the garden Henry sat on the patio wall and lit a cigarette. He’d sworn he’d never smoke again, what with being a physical education student, but there were still times when he buckled to his nerves and stresses. Lighting up he inhaled deeply, enjoying the quiet of the garden before he heard his neighbours come out onto the patio next door. Through the trellis covered in a thick layer of ivy he could hear everything, as although it did a great job at giving visual privacy, the clear voices of the young women next door carried easily through the greenery.
Ten minutes later Henry almost knocked Anthony over as he bolted up the stairs;
“Sorry man, got something to do… gotta get my Blackberry”
-
The next morning you were on your way to class when your phone chimed, looking at the screen you felt your blood run hot then cold at the name on the display;
“What does he want?” you muttered to yourself, before with a sigh you pushed the phone back into your bag, deciding to look at it later once you had finished your class. The last thing you needed to get your mind off of Henry was a text from him.
-
Making your way out to the patio, you threw your bag onto the sofa and smiled as you saw the rest of the girls already out enjoying the last of the days sunshine;
“Heeeyyyyy there she is” Janelle called, sipping from a bottle of Becks
“Is there any more of those? I need a drink”
Handing you a bottle Marie smiled as you smashed the cap off using the top brick of the wall, sipping the tart bubbles of Lager you let out a sigh;
“Henry texted me today”
The three girls went quiet before Jo spoke;
“What did he say?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t read it. I’m trying to get over him, the last thing i need is getting my hopes up. He’s hundreds of miles away, no doubt doing something super sporty that only makes him look even better, probably coaching kids rugby or something. He’s not gonna want some boring English teacher wannabe like me”
At the mere mention of the word ‘Wannabe’ the others broke into a poor rendition of the Spice Girls song, unaware of the silent frustration happening the other side of the ivy trellis.
-
After one beer you’d excused yourself, deciding to take advantage of the quiet to get some coursework done, thankful that your room neighbour on the other side of the wall wasn’t entertaining any female guests again, but you had no idea how long that would last so the sooner you got some work done the better. With your bedroom window open you got back to work, getting in a full hour before your phone chimed again with another text. Glancing at the little screen on the front you scowled, another text from Henry.
Setting the phone down you went back to your work, frowning as you struggled to concentrate, until five minutes later your phone chimed again, your eyes going wide when you saw it was yet another text from Henry;
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!” you yelled at your phone.
“A REPLY!”
You sat at your desk, surely your ears were now playing tricks on you, you could have sworn you’d heard Henry’s voice. With a sigh you set your pencil down and opened your phone, reading the messages;
Received 8.46am: Hi. I know its been a long time but i’d love to call you at some point. Would be good to hear your voice. Hen. x
Received 4.55pm: Miss you. Can I call you? Hen. x
The phone beeped whilst you held it, another text coming in;
Received 4.59pm:
Look outside.
Glancing at your window you moved to it and looked out, before a voice so familiar it sent chills down your spine shouted out;
“Down here!”
-
Janelle shouted out as you flew down the stairs, Jo and Marie both staring at the blur you made as you ran past the lounge and out the front door, letting it swing on its hinges;
“Where is she going so fast?”
The three girls stood at the window and smiled as they wanted to run into Henry’s arms;
“Into her future Husband’s embrace” Marie sighed, the three watching as the young lovers fell back into each other's arms.
“Wait, is he the ‘loud’ one?” Jo asked to no-one in particular
“Unfortunately… i spoke to one of the other guys - Anthony - last week, he apologised for his housemates noises”
“Oh well… guess she can get us some ear plugs then”
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goosegoblin · 3 years
Note
Jess how the hell did u get a degree with ADHD, I'm dying (this is a little bit asking for advice but also a little bit just me feeling sorry for myself, do not stress over replying! Thanks for being a generally cool gal and writing so much about adhd in general)
I’m publishing this rather than private replying because I imagine others might have good advice- if you want me to delete it and send you the text privately, please just let me know <3
So! I hated uni! Like I really did not enjoy the vast majority of it! Granted, my ADHD was only recognised and treated in my final year- and I spent a good portion of that struggling badly with my emetophobia- but I didn’t really handle my MSc well either lmao, so I think it’s safe to say I’m the problem. I got fairly good grades and my qualifications, though, so I guess it worked out? My point is that I don’t feel I handled my ADHD well in the slightest, so I apologise that I can’t be more useful!
Still, some general advice I do have is:
- are you medicated/ in treatment? if not, make that a priority in whatever way you can
- reach out to your uni’s disability department or whatever the equivalent is and ask for an assessment to see what type of help is available to you. I got extra time on exams which wasn’t helpful in itself, but it meant that I was no longer subject to the whole ‘you cannot leave in the last thirty minutes’ rule which had previously caused me a great deal of stress. Additionally, I got to take the exam in a smaller side room that was much more casual, and I focused way better in there.
- try and do coursework/ studying in the library wherever possible. You are not a person who can work on coursework at home. I know that you will think ‘oh, but at home I can be comfy and relax, and I have my favourite playlists, and all my notes are there’- this is all true, but you are not a person who can work at home. You need the change of environment that working somewhere else forces on you to persuade your brain it is, in fact, Working Time
- don’t be afraid to ask for mitigating circumstances. I got them for both dissertations and it is the only reason I was able to hand anything in at all lmao. You will not believe how many students get them for mental health reasons- your course leaders will be super, super used to it.
- try and keep to a routine where you can? leave the house daily (hard right now, I know), eat the correct amount of Food in a day, drink water, exercise, socialise, etc. i know you know all this stuff but i feel obliged to say it anyway
- sometimes you will hear a voice saying ‘i can skip today’s lecture because it’s recorded/ i can catch up later’. that is the devil talking. you will never ‘catch up later’ and if it’s recorded on panopto or similar, you will never watch it. do not let the devil in.
- i made flashcards often using various apps (anki is popular; i used studyblue but these days they make it Very Clear they would like you to pay money for the full version) and i found them super helpful. sitting down to study is a Whole Thing, but going through flashcards while on the toilet or walking somewhere is way, way easier.
- no, you don’t need to buy another notebook.
- comparison is the thief of joy! yes, there will be people on your course who know the material inside out and backwards and talk about how they only spent nine hours in the library yesterday. who cares! that’s their life; you are living yours. also here is a secret: nobody who says they spent nine hours in the library actually did work for the entire nine hours. i promise you this.
- no, you do not need to buy more gel pens
- bring a fidget toy or similar to lectures if you can. i warned one of my lecturers in advance that i would be using it and i wish i’d done that more often bc that lady was cool as hell and it was v helpful
- i can only imagine how much rougher online learning must be making all of this. i am positive people have made good resources on how to deal with it, but just so you know, i know a lot of ADHD ppl really struggling with it. i don’t say this to freak you out, but more to let you know if you feel the same way, it is not your fault and you are not alone
i don’t know your course, but if it’s one where you can reasonably just opt to not learn certain things, that... is not always the worst idea. like, the way my final year exams worked is that we got given a series of essay questions and we picked 3 to write responses to. this meant there were entire areas of the course i could simply opt out of. obviously this is not the ideal way to do things, but if you’re running out of time and this one area of the course is just making you fuckin suicidal to think about, then deciding to just rule it out can work.
(shoutout to my first year biochem course when not a single person picked the microbiology question and our course leader posted a pissy forum message about it god bless)
anyway this is long and probably not helpful, but i love you and i am sorry you are struggling. i struggled too! people who say uni was the best time of their life are generally not dealing with the type of thing we deal with, and that’s okay. it’s okay for uni to not be the best time of your life. it’s okay to struggle. it doesn’t mean you can’t do well or that you don’t deserve to be there. hang in there, my friend, and message me any time- i am always happy to listen or help in any way i can xxxxxx
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geordiewrites · 3 years
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Hey i just read exile inspired fic and it is soo good. I think you should write one based on the song tolerate it by ts? With harry plz. The drama, fight, tears.. I think you will reflect the emotion so well omg.
Tolerate It | Harry Potter
A/N: Hi lovely! First off, I adored this request so much and I really hope I’ve done it justice. Tolerate It is such a beautiful song and defo one of my favourites off of Evermore to cry to, there’s just so much detail hidden within the lyrics and I adore that. Harry too!! There’s not enough stuff for Harry, so I hope I’ve done well for you! ( Also this is super short, but I’ve been swamped with coursework xox )
Summary: Y/N is in love with The Boy Who Lived, and due to marry him in the Spring with a beautiful April wedding. Friends to lovers to that engaged couple who are just too in love to function, they share the most perfect story. But when Y/N begins to see their relationship for what it is, her entire world is thrown off key...
Warnings: angst and lots of it, loneliness, sadness, swearing.
~
“You’re coming home tonight, right?” Y/N asks, excitement and anticipation heavy in her tone, cherry red nails clicking against the cold metal of the answerphone.
“Of course, I’ll be back soon, love.” Harry Potter, her beloved fiancé, answered back on the other side from his workplace all the way in central London. His office is almost empty, devoid of any homely photos or colleagues: they had all gone home to their families long ago, and yet he stayed behind. He had no work to finish, no cases glaring to be solved. There was nothing to do but leave, but Harry didn’t.
“You’ve said that before.” Y/N pointed out blandly, her forced smile fading slightly. Many times had Harry said he was on his way home, only to send a letter the next morning apologising for suddenly getting swamped with unavoidable paperwork. “Please come home Harry, I’ve even made your favourite for dinner.”
“That sounds good, I promise I’ll be there soon. I’m just leaving the Ministry now.” Harry replied monotonously, not sounding nearly as happy as Y/N wished he would. Perhaps he had just had a bad day at the office, he must have done. But he had just one too many bad days now, and the reality that he might not want to see her was beginning to sink in.
Shaking off that horrible thought, Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and chewed the edge of her top lip. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll see you then.”
“Bye.” Harry said shortly before putting the phone down and staring at his office, desperately trying to find a reason to stay at work. He did love Y/N, he did. Heck, he had even asked her to marry him and kissed the edge of her lips as they set the date. And then postponed it. And then postponed it another year after that, all because of some urgent work that Harry had suddenly come across. He was just so young, forced to grow up so quickly he didn’t even have time for a scrap of a childhood. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to see Y/N, why going home to their apartment often felt like a chore.
Back at their cosy flat in the nicer part of Greenwich, Y/N put the phone down after hearing an abrupt beep on the other end that let her know he had hung up. She sighed before walking over to a tall cabinet that stood to the side of their kitchen, taking out a set of nice china plates her Grandmother had left her and crystal wine glasses. It was the lovely cutlery only used for things like Christmas and obligatory dinner parties her family forced her to hold.
After setting it out on the table, Y/N checked the time and supposed that if Harry really had left as he said, he would be back in just a minute through the wonders of apparation. Carefully so she wouldn’t somehow spill the food in her clumsiness, a quality Harry once said he loved about her, Y/N moved the food from the oven, to plates and then through to their front room where the fancy cutlery was set up. A smile made its way onto her face, a beaming, gorgeous smile of confidence that her and Harry would finally have the night she deserved. One where work or his reluctance to put effort into their relationship, even if she did pretend she knew nothing about this, didn’t get in the way.
Alas however, minutes passed and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. The food grew colder and that wonderful, rare smile of hers faded into an all too comfortable frown, the crease between her eyebrows deepening with not only disappointment, but anger. A growing resentment for Harry’s lack of care or even acknowledgement of their engagement. He didn’t seem to give two hoots that she had made a lovely meal; after all, he had only called it ‘good’. Not fabulous or decadent or even something praiseful. Just good.
They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ before they hung up the phones. Harry had only said one word. Y/N’s mind began to spiral, her breathing growing quicker and sharper as the thought that it might be time to confront Harry about the buildup of letdowns over the course of the last few months. A year even, since he had properly spent time at home. At their home, the one in which he had knelt down on one knee and told her he wanted to grow old with her by his side, failing at muggle card games on the front porch as they watched their grandchildren play.
Not knowing exactly what to do, Y/N retreated to grasping at the doorframe to keep her body from tumbling to the ground. Her mind whirred with the usual possibilities to try and chase away his lateness. Got caught at work, perhaps Ron called. But none of it compared to the looming threat that Harry was scraping any old excuse together in order to stay away. That he was lying, something she never thought she would have to think about him doing. Harry had always been such an honest person, even as a child.
Y/N remembered how nervous he was when he first asked her out during their fifth year at Hogwarts. He had been on this disastrous date with some Ravenclaw she couldn’t quite remember the name of, and come back utterly defeated. Feeling sorry for a friend she had always harboured a crush on, Y/N had stayed up all night convincing him something better was around the corner. It occurred to Harry quite quickly after that that Y/N was that somebody. She liked him, and at the time that was enough to make him think he was in love. To some degree he was, but not nearly as much as Y/N had fallen for him.
It was almost midnight when the front door to their apartment clicked with the turn of a key, and Y/N, still standing in the same sad place by the door to their living room, finally saw Harry step into their home. It had been hours since they were supposed to eat the food that Y/N had worked to hard to create. There it still sat however, with the plates and crystal glasses and unopened bottle of wine in the same place, completely untouched.
Y/N had a thousand things to say to him. Usually it would begin with her asking him where he had been galavanting off to, but not tonight. Tonight was the final tear in her elastic heart, just enough to finally make it tear into two broken, hollowed out pieces. She stood, silent and just watched as he took off his shoes and put his coat back in it’s place without saying anything. Harry wasn’t even trying anymore, and that hurt more than him being late to begin with.
“Sorry for the delay, something came up.” Harry said, standing a few metres away from her. There was no affectionate kiss to the forehead like when they were fresh out of Hogwarts with teenage dreams and ambitions. No arm comfortably slung around her waist in a protective manner. Y/N missed that especially out of all the things that had faded away. That simple gesture that showed he wanted to hold her above all else, above everyone else who had ever wanted to touch the Chosen One like she did.
“Something.” Y/N repeated, no emotion in her voice. It sounded almost like a recording being played back to him, just with any tone sucked away. “It’s always something, isn’t it?” She continued, not finding quite the right words to encompass the flummox of emotions seeping into her veins. “Work. Ron called. Hermione called. Work. Work again.”
“There really was something.” Harry pathetically added. It was a lie of course, he had spent the hours at his desk alone and staring aimlessly at a fountain pen as it leaked ink onto the black carpet of his office.
“Do you really think I don’t know you at all? Stop lying to me, Harry, just stop it. I’m done with being lied to.” Y/N says, her voice remaining as monotonous as ever as if she’s already grieving something. “I want to know what was so important that you’ve missed the dinner I made. The last thirty dinners, in fact.”
Harry just runs a hand through his messy hair as he tries desperately to think of something to say. But he can’t. There’s nothing to say that would make him any less guilty.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He manages to whisper.
“You’ve said that already.” Y/N points out without missing a single beat. She’s exhausted of pretending that she doesn’t know what Harry’s been doing, drained of all energy to put in effort anymore.
“Just tell me what the problem is and we can fix it.” He begs, but his voice is shaky and the words sound as though he’s reading them from a script.
“Fine. When did you stop being in love with me?” Y/N asks, sadness seeping into her voice. Tears began to form in her eyes but were quickly blinked away; the last thing she wanted was for Harry to see her as weak. She might be pathetic, pitiful, stupid for not realising earlier... but Y/N was not going to be weak. Not now, not ever.
“Why would you think that? Y/N, I could never stop loving you.” Harry said, trying to wrap her into a hug only for Y/N to quickly wriggle out of his cold grasp. His fingers left icy burns where they had briefly touched her arm, and Harry’s face dropped as he realised she didn’t want him anywhere near her.
“But you have, Harry. Otherwise you wouldn’t be coming home at ridiculous times, or avoiding even looking at me like you are now. You don’t love me, you tolerate me because you don’t want to be alone. I feel like I’m begging to be in the footnotes in the story of your life, not a main character anymore.” Y/N explained quietly, neither expecting her to be so frank but once the blunt words were spilling from her lips, not even she could stop them. She watched as Harry’s face crumpled, sadness twisting her gut as she fervently tried not to cry herself.
“Y/N... I don’t know what to say.” Harry trailed off. Y/N used to be so infatuated with him, so desperately in love that she was blind to his flaws, much like his ridiculous fan base. But she had grown up from the teenager with a crush to a young woman with heart and with ambitions, and Harry was no longer apart of what she wanted out of life. She had stopped being a part of his long ago, she just hadn’t realised it then.
“Is this in my head? Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow, Harry. Because please believe me, I could do it. I could leave.”
“I can’t.” Harry finally said. “I did love you once, Y/N. I’m not even sure what happened to us if I’m being completely honest.”
“That’s the problem: you don’t really even want me to stay. But that’s the thing... you built an entire new wizarding world after you defeated You-Know-Who, and where was I? I’m sorry for being dramatic and shit but I’m taking this dagger out and finally going where I need to be.” Y/N continued, not pausing as not to give him any time to ask her to stay, not that he would. Her mind was made up, and even Harry could see that.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Harry whispered, his voice trailing off as Y/N went to get her coat from a peg just beside their front door.
“It’s alright, really. I know you don’t hate me, but both of us know this isn’t working anymore. I deserve someone who celebrates me and my love, and that isn’t you. I’m not really sure that it ever was.” Y/N said, a sad smile gracing her delicate features. She looked almost relieved. Utterly broken-hearted, but relieved all the same. “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving me?” Harry said. Even though she had told him why, it still came as a shock. Y/N nodded. “I’m so sorry I didn’t treat you how you deserve.”
“I’m sorry about that too.” Y/N replied, both warmly and coldly at the same time. “Goodbye, Harry Potter. All the best.”
“Goodbye.” It was all Harry could fathom to say as she pressed her engagement ring back into his hand, the final recognition of their relationship officially being over. It was a beautiful piece of jewellery, one she at one point she thought she would never take off her finger. There were no more words exchanged about the gesture for none were needed, all had been said already.
One simple word that locked the door on their relationship, the one that Y/N had finally gained the courage to close in the first place. It had taken her so long, so pathetically long, to realise that something wasn’t right. That Harry was meant to love her, that love shouldn’t and can’t survive while being one sided. It shouldn’t have to be tolerated, and Y/N had finally learned that through all those lonely nights of wondering where Harry was, what he was getting up to at work, if he even was there.
But as Y/N’s grandma used to tell her every Christmas, as one door closes, another always opens.
-
A/N: hoped you liked it anon!!!
Nancy xx
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regrettablewritings · 4 years
Note
Fluff alphabet for Tadashi Hamada if you're stil writing for him, please. B, c,s w?
Indeed, I do still write for the lovely lad. Stuff is below the cut
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B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?):
Oh, most definitely. Tadashi is a very family-oriented man. Always has been, always will be. So it’s no surprise that he looks forward to the day he can start his own little branch of the Hamada family tree. We’ve already seen how he is with Hiro: He’s protective, he’s encouraging, he’s inspiring, he’s good at getting him to do things he may not want to do even if it’s for his own benefit -- imagine what wonders he could do if those traits were applied to a little mini-him or mini-you or mini-you-both!
Honestly, the subject goes more or less unspoken between you two because it’s kind of a given that Tadashi wants kids. You two would be taking a walk in the park or going to the mall and the moment a stroller passes by, he’s barely playing off how much he’s trying to crane his neck to gaze upon the chubby wonder resting inside. You can see the disappointment in his eyes when he fails. Some days when you’re just at the Lucky Cat trying to get some homework done, you’ll glance up and see him at a table with a baby at it, speaking all kinds of sweet words to them. You’ve seen his favorites playlist on Youtube -- it has a decade-old commercial for Legal Zoom on it. When you questioned why it was there in the first place, you had to witness your adoring boyfriend sheepishly admit that the baby in it was just too cute. And also he liked the pale purple walls and thought it’d make for good inspiration.
“Good inspiration for . . .?” you led, knowing exactly where it was headed. You watched at Tadashi’s eyes wandered and his cheeks and ears reddened.
“For . . . a nursery . . .” he responded. It was a mumble, but you heard everything you needed to know loud and clear.
Well, not everything, of course: You asked him what exactly he envisioned for the future.
He admitted he wasn’t exactly particular about whether he wanted a boy or a girl, let alone first or second -- he just knew he would like at least two children so neither one would be lonely. Corny and cheesy as it was, he would’ve preferred to live somewhere a little closer to the suburbs (“Hey, at least I don’t expect a white picket fence!” he justified). His reasoning being that he’d like a nice, quiet area in which many parks and libraries and schools can be accessible, and so any children of yours have room to grow. However, given the structure of the area, he knew that this was going to be a tough call for a multitude of reasons.
Bottom line, though, he’d be okay with living in the city if it meant he could still provide for you and your hypothetical kids the best he could. He just wants to make sure everyone is happy and healthy. But for now, he’s content with it just being the two of you . . . Emphasis on “for now.”
C = Cuddles (How do they cuddle?):
Usually with a prayer that Hiro doesn’t barge in. No, seriously: That bedroom of theirs offers only the most courteous of privacies by way of a tasteful but otherwise unpersuasive shoji. You want Hiro to see you guys trying to get cozy about as much as Hiro does -- which is not at all, given how he pretends to throw up every time he’s walked in on you two. And how he’s voiced his dislike of it.
Given that Tadashi is ever the caring brother and roommate, he can only get away with so many dry, “You don’t have to be here”s before he just feels bad about it. As a result, the two of you have actually had to create a cuddling schedule built with Hiro’s course times, your availability, and Tadashi’s availability in mind. And God forbid Hiro ever finds out about that schedule because all he needs is one more reason to call the both of you Ultra Nerds.
Worse-case scenario, you two get booted out and have to make do with the couch in the garage, cramped as it is. But you don’t mind: Usually, the reason you two are cuddling is because you’re so butt-tired from coursework that you need to relax and zonk out for a couple hours. Besides, for as lanky and more muscle-based as a guy like Tadashi is, his arm wrapped around you is unfairly warm and comforting. You’re bound to be conked out before you can even utter a complaint, or at the very least you’re way too relaxed to register the fact that you’re both awkwardly strewn about the furniture.
So if it had to be put in a different way (and less about worrying somebody might barge in), you supposed you could describe your cuddling as being the snug equivalent to how a college student eats, sleeps, or lives altogether: You both take what you can get when you can get it and try to enjoy it before it’s time to go to your next “adult obligation.”
S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?):
Tadashi is a pretty optimistic person so it’s actually hard to get him completely down, let alone long enough for him to actually require a pick-me-up bigger than a brief inner pep talk. Normally all he needs to do is have a quiet moment to himself, some time to cool down, maybe remind himself that things can and will get better. But in the odd moment where this isn’t enough, Tadashi will often turn to his interests.
However, don’t assume this means he’ll hunker down in his lab and focus on one of his projects: He’s long since learned that it’s best to not robotically engineer with sad or frustrated -- way too many power outages have occurred from that.
Instead, he turns to his other hobbies: Living with Aunt Cass means he’s been knowing how to bake for years, albeit the baked fruits of his labors don’t always come out prettily; depending on how free his schedule is (read: not very at all anymore), he may go find a location to go surfing; or he goes to a park to get, like, a cart crepe. Usually being outside in a sunny place (with plenty of puppies and babies around) zaps him back to normal.
Which leaves him with plenty of time to figure out how to cheer you up!
Given his nature, Tadashi has become a wiz at cheering others up. He’s just got this nearly contagious brightness about him. And even if you don’t find yourself as readily bright as he, don’t worry: He’s not afraid to pull old tried-and-trues on you. Being an older brother/almost fatherly figure has allowed him the perfect position to perfect his trade: That is, the art of being goofy for the sake of cheering up his loved ones. He will easily pick you up and jump around with you, hollering about how he’s going to “turn that frown upside-down” -- by actually holding you upside-down.
Not your cup of tea? Then be prepared to witness the most tragic case of Dad Dancing ever recorded in a man below the age of 30, complete with cheesy disco music. You will be forced to witness his arms flailing, head bopping, mouth performing what you had once heard being referred to as “The White Man’s Overbite”. You will beg that he stop “for the love of Mochi.” You will try to have your pleas be heard over the speaker blaring “Got to Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn, only to be further drowned out by your boyfriend’s tone-deaf singing.
But the man will not stop: He must dance in your honor.
And once you’re done wiping away the tears left from cackling, he’ll treat you to some froyo.
If this still doesn’t work, there’s the slightest chance he might pull out the big guns: Tickling. It’s reserved strictly as a worst-case scenario, but he’s going to dance until his feet bleed if he can help it before he has to do that again. The last time he resorted to tickling a little too eagerly, it . . . didn’t end well.
W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?):
When? A balmy evening in May. How? With a bit of difficulty. Mind you, Tadashi is a generally organized man on the average day. But on the day he proposes to you – heck, the days leading up to it? He’s a bit of a mess. And it’s in no small part due to how incredibly involved his friends and family had tried to be the entire time.
Make no mistake, he’s very glad that he has such supportive loved ones. However, he found himself constantly fighting off a heart attack every time one of them treaded the line a little too closely for his comfort. (Sure, there’s little suspicion in Honey gushing over wedding magazines with you or Aunt Cass asking you to sample a “brand new wedding cake flavor” she was planning to use for some pastries, but Wasabi asking about your ring size and Fred talking about how kaiju costumes were better than tuxes until GoGo had to slam him down really wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.)
Hiro might’ve been the closest thing to normal throughout it all, much to the elder Hamada brother’s surprise. But even then, he was more of less gesturing for Tadashi to just go ahead and pop the question – albeit, at the most inopportune times in the latter’s honest opinion.
“I can’t propose to my girlfriend in the campus library!” Tadashi rejected Monday.
“There’s nothing romantic about being in the middle of a pizzeria and going, ‘Hey, will you marry me?’” he scoffed on Wednesday.
“Hiro, if you ever propose to somebody in front of a mall fountain, then I’ve failed you,” came his dry response Saturday. He knew his younger brother meant no harm by applying the lightest of pressures; he just wanted all the anxieties over with! But this was you Tadashi was proposing to: You deserved only the best. Only the most heartfelt . . . Which was why, in the end, the where of it all was the Lucky Cat Café. Was it the fanciest establishment he could have done it in? Not really. Thankfully, Aunt Cass was all too eager to oblige his request to have the café to yourselves one evening; it allowed him to properly decorate your favorite table with a tablecloth and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. It was admittedly a tad cheesy, but you certainly didn’t mind it.
But this was where Tadashi had grown up. It was where his family – the core of his being – was, where his friends congregated to relax. This was his home in so many ways and if he was to invite you into his family, he wanted it to be done here. Even if it meant Aunt Cass and Hiro were not too discreetly peeking out from the back. Or that the entire time Tadashi was trying to recite his proposal speech, he kept getting distracted by your friends, whose faces were mashed against a window behind you, waiting to bear witness to this milestone.
Suffice to say, it was a very group-oriented situation. But neither you nor Tadashi would have had anything less.
Thank you for your patience!
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Text
chloe in my adrininogami roommates au
under the cut bc its a little long (1500 words of notes about chloe in this au)
ADRININOGAMI ROOMATES AU RECAP: its not really an au its just a timejump, Adrien Nino and Kagami are all like 18-19 and roommates, hawkmoth is still out there and lb and cn still dont know each others’ identities, Nino and Kagami know each others’ secret identities but don’t know Adrien’s and he doesn’t know theirs, Nino is at university while Adrien and Kagami are just taking a gap year and working minimum wage jobs and honestly they are all thriving and bffs
Chloe is a music major
At the same university as Nino
i have very little knowledge of the universities of Paris so this is going to be partially based on the American system, im sorry but youre going to have to suspend your disbelief real quick
so the university has a rule where first year students have to live on campus in the dorms
Nino escaped this rule because he is a goshdarn music nerd and quest for knowlege cannot be stopped
There wasn’t even an AP Music Theory class at his high school when he started there but he was like “whats up guys i have self-confidence now and i think it would be pretty nifty if we had this class” and then talked to teachers and convinced a bunch of his friends to sign up for it so now its a class
And thats the only AP Music class and he still wanted to learn,,, so he just,,, started taking online college courses,,, in music theory,,, for fun,,,, the absolute nerd <3
he will ramble excitedly about music history to anyone who will listen and you cant even be upset bc he is so energetic about this
All of this is to say that, by the time he graduated high school, he had already completed a bunch of college classes, so he got to enter university as a sophomore, which is how he is living off campus with adrien and kagami
Chloe, however, is a freshman, so shes gotta live on campus in the freshman dorms and have a roommate
her roommate, by the way, is Juleka
Chloe has calmed down significantly by this time and sucks a lot less. She and Juleka are not friends by any account, but basically, when they were signing up for roommates, they were both like “whelp this is better than rooming with a total stranger, i wont talk to you or bother you if you dont talk to me”
chloe and juleka have not actually spoken to each other since school started,, they pretty much stay out of the dorm room unless they are sleeping and then they stay on their side of the room and do not make eye contact and dont touch each others stuff
and chloe is totally fine with this
just kidding, hahaha, she is sad and lonely and wants to make friends but is terrible at it,,, her models for friendship include Adrien who she knows she messed up with completely and the best thing she can do now for their relationship is avoid him so she doesnt mess it up more,, and Sabrina, who is also refusing to speak to her now and basically taught chloe that the way to do friendship is to like? do their homework or something??
(juleka is vibing and living her best life btw, shes just also an introvert and only goes to the dorm when she is tired and needs to refresh and also chloe is the one acting like they shouldnt talk)
SO,,, chloe is a music major bc she thinks its pretty nifty and fun and also because she is trying to avoid anything to do with her parents,,, she has reached the point where like “be a dissapointment to my parents” is like,, her life goal,,, which is kinda a “good for her” situation and kinda a “holy heck plz get her some therapy situation”
wow we’ve got a bunch of backstory but we are finally to the point of this post
Chloe has several classes with Nino and she keeps accidentally flocking to him because she already knows him from high school and he has such good vibes
Nino is kind of just trying to avoid her,, he doesnt HATE her,, but,, it is chloe,, yknow
but then they get paired up for a group project and the group meets at nino’s apartment, and adrien is not in the building whenever chloe is there, on purpose,, they will be friends again eventually but their friendship is taking a little bit of a break and adrien is still learning how to have boundaries so he’s just doing what’s best for his mental health
chloe is totally fine with this and doesnt miss him at all
just kidding she is lying
BUT
you know who IS just chilling in the apartment while chloe is there
kagami
who is now like 19 and having some actual self confidence and happiness and who is chilling in her apartment with nino, one of her best friends
and chloe gets through the first group meetup at nino’s house and doesn’t spent any time just staring at kagami who’s chilling reading books in the corner (yes she does)
chloe is actually trying her hardest to be nice to the group members and make friends and prove that she can be a good person and a hard worker but she has very little social skills or work ethics skills and is having complicated emotions about adrien and hasnt even realized it yet but she is falling HARD for kagami,
all that is to say that chloe is a little bit distracted from the group project
but anyway they meet up again and this time chloe has done a ton of research and prep beforehand bc she doesnt want 2 be caught offguard made to look like a fool again and everyone is like what the heck, since when does she study things?
and anyway the project goes pretty great
but then
chloe has a goshdarn crying breakdown
because she is experiencing too many emotions all at once
the combination of just,,, university coursework is stressful and living without servants for the very first time in her life and parental issues and not having friends and also literally everything is just aaaa
so she starts crying in her dorm while doing homework while juleka is there but she literally forgets that juleka is there bc juleka is kind of a cryptid
and juleka just kinda stares at her for a minute and then is like “u good”
and chloe tries to pretend shes not startled and is like “haha yeah its fine”
and juleka is like “have u considered getting a tutor”
and chloe, who is stupid, is like “hmm i should ask nino to tutor me but only at his place and only when kagami is home and i should make sure that i look super cute and i need to study beforehand so that i look cool and smart in front of kagami,, i mean,, for no reason at all i just think this is a good idea”
she talks to nino and nino is like “ok i guess i can help tutor you but u have to actually make an effort and also stick to a schedule so youre not there when adriens there bc we are respecting his boundaries and also you need to-”
and chloe is like “great perfect done”
and then she actually does everything nino says
so basically
she ends up passing all of her classes and making friends
literally just because she is too stupid to actually try to talk to kagami
they literally do not have any conversations other than like “hey, whats up?” “nothing much lol” for like,,, an entire year
also chloe does not admit to herself that she has a crush on kagami for that entire time either
meanwhile adrien and nino and kagami are all a little confused bc chloe keeps flirting at nino??? and adrien is like “im pretty sure she likes girls but idk???” and nino keeps being like “hey chloe what’s up, i just got back from hanging out with my amazing girlfriend alya who i am very in love with,, and who is my girlfriend,, who i am dating”
and chloe has literally no idea why he is doing this but continues to flirt at him and subconciously hope that kagami will catch some of her flirting vibes and falls in love with her
so basically
they are all stupid
BUT Chloe and Nino do become actual friends and chloe actually respects him for the amazing wonderful smart talented kind person that he is and he helps her make some new friends and they get to the point where they are a super great study group and she’ll listen to all his homework assignments and proofread some of them when its like finals cramming time and they are supporting each other and their friendship is good
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word-addict-lisette · 3 years
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Dear Lisette,
I am back in you inbox, yay! How was your day? How's life? How's school?
I am really mad because we had this piece of work and it was like "pen down your idea on this statement, 'i can do whatever i want on the internet as long as i don't get caught' and i put down my thoughts which were 'this statement is true, i stand by it and you can do whatever you like as long as you don't get caught and don't own up' and then people were like throwing shade at me and i looked at it. I have 5 comments.
My teachers tried to delete it, my classmates literally lectured me and then she read it out loud and the whole class went looking for that one note i made. In the comments, people are spelling my name in caps. It was my opinion, and oh, look all of them are basically hypocrites. Let me just say, these people make me uncomfortable, they don't talk about exactly nice things or approriate things and they are all commenting ( without names too may i add) like "KAT, THAT'S NOT HOW THINGS WORK!" but with my real name and just arghhh.
Also if my teachers wanted me to say, "no, that isn't the right thing to do," or any other answer that the others provided them with, they shouldn't have asked for my opinion. They should have just forced us all to just type the same thing. The other people all wrote like, "no, its unethical and bad" or "False, no, its bad" and stuff like that, filmsy evidence and elaboration. I HAVE MORALS, i am just saying the truth. I feel like the victim of a hate crime. People don't like me enough already, i am a very intresting person, uh, yeah, we are gonna stop there.
Enjoy the rant i guess? I don't know? I am sorry for loading on you but there's a little extra rant so uh, yeah. im just gonna take this out, one sec.
Ok, so uh my teacher was like, next week, we are making pancakes. Fluffy pancakes. It was changed to pancakes without eggs? and now we have to make it ourselves, at home. Where do i get flour? What do i do with the extra flour? I don't know how to cook at all, my partner who has been extremely controlling and like kinda driving me insane, ( ahem i did the whole coursework) also she uses my friend's name for everything? Like, bestie i was literally helping out and you went all, "Oh you don't want (friend's name) to see you burnt right?". Obviously i don't but if i burnt down my house, she wouldn't be surprised. I BURNT MYSELF LAST YEAR, SHE SAW ME BURN MYSELF. Well, my friend burnt me and then the week after that, she burnt herself.
This happens a lot. Also, the very common questions and statements of, "Are you straight?" , "aren't you and (friend's name) dating?", "you guys would make such a cute couple" , " aren't you bi?" and "i thought the two of you were dating," there is nothing wrong with being bi but i am not attracted to her like that. So, they use her for leverage over me to get me to do what they want and also think im dating her? If we were dating, we would both be homeless. I like my house. This doesn't only happen with her. I once got shipped with my brother. I hugged him and some guy was like, "oh you guys like each other," that was awkward. Can i just add, a lot of people like majority of that community know we are siblings.
I also get shipped with his best friend, thanks to a rumor my brother made up. So, sometimes, i would get like comments like, "oh, you like him" or "(brother's name) told me that you and (brother's best friend) are dating," we are not dating. WE ARE JUST REALLY GOOD FRIENDS. I LIKE A FICTIONAL CHARACTER. LEAVE ME ALONE. Also, everytime i have a picture of a guy on my phone or something my cousin just has to tell my brother. THEY ARE STREAMERS. ONE IS OF V FROM BTS SO I CAN TRAMATISE MY FRIEND.
Everytime i cry, someone comes in my room. It is so annoying. LEAVE ME ALONE, I WANT TO CRY. This is why i started reading sad books, listening to sad songs, watching sad movies so i have a reason to cry. There was this once, i wasnt selected to be part of my choir's competition and i was sad about it because i didn't feel good enough. THEY SAID I WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH. So, i cried but it wasn't enough so i read the saddest book i could find so i had a reason to cry but by that time, my feelings were gone. This is why i get breakdowns when im overwhelmed because of all this. You know how old i am. I have to deal with this and the pressure of always wanting to be perfect. What else can i do? I am not pretty or smart or talented or have friends, i have like 6 friends and nobody ever keeps me company. So, i focus on being perfect. 100%, i deal with not having any attention because my parents didn't pay me any attention just because i was "independent" or something?
Did i mention, i babysit all my siblings? I am the second child. I baby-sit my older brother. I am sleep-deprived because i can't sleep well at night and i constantly worry about everything and i have to take care of all my friends and it is so exhausting. Yet, i can not cry.
Thanks for staying with me through whatever that was. Uh, yeah, i took the quiz and got chaotic academia. That is my aesthetic. I really want one of those fancy skirts they wear like on pintrest and stuff? Like you know what i mean? The academia skirt? Yeah, i don't have one yet.
Question of the day, what is your dream profession or you could answer my other question which is what would you want to look like? Or you could answer both?
Ok, thank you again. i am gonna go study. Love and hugs and just literal joy sent your way!
- Kat, the ultimate dino mom of Leo, Billy Bob, Jessica, Sophie, Jackson, Sarah, Lily, the Micheals and all her other kids. (Jessica, Sophie and Jackson are mailboxes and Lily is a computer, Micheal is my screwdriver and laptop pencil, there are two micheals.)
Dear Kat,
It's really good to see you in my inbox. I'm sorry for replying late, but exams really had occupied my schedule today and I got my Saturday exam tomorrow. This week is going to be stressful and today's day has been pathetic. I had nothing to do except study and write exams. I feel like I haven't really been social recently and That I'm losing touch with people that I used to be close with and basically I'm letting overthinking take over my mind.
That is so sick. Why is someone's genuine opinion bothering them so much? I totally wouldn't be able to tolerate that. They ought to understand that there is a fine line between a fact and an opinion, and what you stated was just an OPINION. they have no right whatsoever to come at you like that. I totally agree... the teachers ought to have not asked for your opinion if all they desired was a particularly specific answer which opposed the statement. one of the reasons I hate the schooling system has to be THIS. people who are putting comments like that ought to realize that what you stated is exactly what they do in real life. They just want to be seen as the good kid here. At least you have the guts enough to speak the truth.
Miss! You don't have to worry about ranting out to me. You can rant to me for days and I'd still listen. Just go on ranting nobody is stopping you.
Ahhh! I've had that happen to me. I really understand how tough that can be. I really really hate being shipped with someone who I am just platonically friends with like you've got no valid proof to believe that we are romantically involved with each other. I've burnt myself plenty of times too. It's not a pleasant experience. Plus I also hate having controlling partners. Cause all they do is boss you around while they are barely doing a thing. It sucks.
Why? Just why? Why does it even matter to them? Who you date and what your sexuality is, is none of their business. I have no idea why people concern themselves with topics that really don't involve them. It's like people are just ready to make gossip out of anything. A person can't have a bestie without not liking them? I don't get what's so difficult to understand about that. I hate it when I'm casually talking to a guy and people start shipping us and start spreading rumors of us being in a romantic relationship. Another thing they do is, if a person likes me, they automatically assume that I like him back when I've barely even ever spoken to that guy. And yes! I like fictional characters! Don't even assume I like any of you fools cause You idiots bully me and ship me with total crackheads... And my standards are good enough for me to not include you guys in my list of *appropriate candidates* which consists of non-existent people.
Similarly, the moment I'm chatting with some guy, or like have a pic with someone on my mobile phone people just assume that fact that I'm crushing on him. Like no! I don't. We are friends... the others are celebrities, Why can't you understand that? I can't imagine how thick their skull must be considering they can't let a small statement like that sink in.
The crying thingy... I feel personally attacked. Nobody lets me do anything in peace, let alone crying. I literally use the washroom in my room and even my sister comes in there just banging on the door asking me to get the heck out of there and go somewhere else, like can't she use the other two washrooms or what? I like listening to sad stuff and reading angst cause somehow or the other it calms me down... it makes me feel at peace cause I know I'm not the only one who feels like crying. I've got a lot of friends, nobody remembers my birthday, I remember all of theirs'. They don't even text me, It's always me who takes the first step. All my friends just want me by their side cause I'm a smartass they want to show off as a trophy and cause I've got much better sarcasm than them. They just want to benefit from me. That's all. GOD, I'm not pretty at all. I look like a random idiot all the time. I look pathetic. And I lack talent... And you! I warned you, miss! You are pretty, beautiful, talented, smart, friendly, caring, kind and THE BEST!!!
I've never been given attention. Never ever. My sister has always stolen the spotlight. And I hate it. Not even my friends acknowledge me, my parents just ehhhhh. No matter how good I score, No matter how good I behave, No matter what. I'm just never good enough. My parents think of me as a rebellious kid. And I don't know what to do about that. All I've ever done is listen to them. My parents never allowed me to go out and play with my friends when I was a kid, they never let me go on overnight trips, and they barely let me spend time with the few friends I have. They never let me go to outings my school friends planned. Despite that, I never complained. I never had good friends because of that, yet I never complained. A lot of kids my age roam around in shopping malls by themselves, have sleepovers, spend money, roam around with tons of makeup on their faces, are in relationships, and even get into illegal shit. I've never done anything Like that. And yet... I'm never the good kid. I'm still the rebel.
I've got to take care of my sister almost every day. Get her to study, study myself, take care of myself while tolerating my grandmother. I really don't like my grandma, she s very fussy and just keeps yelling around the house the moment my dad and mom leave the house. I've got sensory overload because of her voice. And now I sit and have an anxiety attack almost every time she speaks. I've always got to strive for perfection as well. And I too can't sleep well at night just cause all the worries of the world, keep weighing me down.
Chaotic academia sounds good. It's the same aesthetic my sister got when I asked her to take the test! And oooh! Me too! I love those skirts and outfits they show on Pinterest. I'd love to have them someday.
My dream profession has to be that of a writer. Or perhaps even running a library. just something cozy. Ohh! I'd love to have brown hair, and I'd want to be tall just a little shorter than What I am right now. I just reached my father's height yesterday. And more or less, I'd like the rest to stay just as it is. and perhaps a lighter shade of skin tone. What about you though?
My question for you! If you were to be stranded on a beach island for a week. Who would you bring with you and how would you spend your time there. You can include whatever elements of nature you want to include like forests, lakes, and all.
Sending love, warmth, hugs, and whatever I have to spare that you would like to you!!!!
-Love from Lisette
P.S. That's an interesting family you've got, right there!
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vs-redemption · 3 years
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From Cindy: This was written for a Secret Santa event on a Discord Server I’m in. ( @konoblog-simps ) I got permission from the giftee to post this, so I wanted to share it with all of you Bokuto lovers!!!
Perfect Day (Bokuto x Fem!Reader)
If there was anything better than a balmy summer day at the beach, it would be spending that perfect day with your best friend, Kotaro Bokuto. The enthusiastic, lovable guy had been close with you ever since your first year in High School when you’d volunteered to tutor him in a few of his weaker subjects. You could still remember the day you’d overheard your teacher telling him that he’d be forced to take some time away from playing volleyball for the school team if he couldn’t get his grades back up. At first, the thought of helping him never even crossed your mind. He was just a random classmate that you’d never spoken to before, so you didn’t have any personal feelings invested.
There was no way for you to ignore his struggle over the next few days though. You’d never realized how much life and energy he’d brought to your class until the pressure of his grades transformed him into a sad looking puppy dog, slumped over his desk as he tried his best to write down and understand whatever your teacher was lecturing about. His moping was really killing the overall mood of the class. You also noticed that he started staying after school to get help from his volleyball teammates, who were quite hard on him at times. You got the distinct impression that he was an extremely valuable member of the club, and a part of you started to take pity on him. If it were you in that situation, you’d be just as upset if the school was threatening to ban you from participating in club activities.
“So, what subjects do you need help on?” You approach him after school one day after his friends left him to go to practice. You set your school bag down and pull an extra chair up to his desk. Bokuto was a pretty tall and muscular guy, but the way he perked up with his big golden eyes all wide in disbelief was extremely adorable.
“Thanks for offering,” he gives you an appreciative smile, “But I’d feel bad taking up your time. I know you’re on the swim team.” Bokuto had seemed to have a one track mind for volleyball, so it was a bit surprising that he knew which club you were in.
“We don’t practice as much as the volleyball team,” you tell him before pointing to the stack of books on his desk. “Which subject do you want to start with?”
You learned right away that Bokuto was a pretty emotional person, which made keeping him focused and motivated a whole job in itself. He got discouraged easily over difficult problems, but bounced back just as fast once something clicked and he managed to answer a question correctly. With your help, his grades improved just enough to be passable. But more importantly, you and Bokuto inevitably grew to be friends after spending so much time together. Since you had invested so much time in his success, Bokuto began to invite you to his games and would even show up to attend your swim meets sometimes to cheer you on. Over time, you started hanging out on weekends to do stuff outside of school activities, and eventually he just became a regular and important part of your life.
After graduating high school, you both managed to stay close despite having very different life and college schedules. Bokuto had been recruited by a fairly prestigious volleyball college team and moved out of town while you pursued a more academic route for your future. You both stayed in contact though and visited each other whenever there was time. You lived for the days he would video call you after his volleyball games to brag about all the awesome points he’d scored. Those calls always ended with you holding back giggles as his teammates poked their heads in to correct his exaggerations. In quieter times, you’d spend hours on the phone telling him about your teachers and coursework. He hardly ever had any helpful feedback or advice, but he still loved hearing your voice and was happy to know you were doing well. Of course, you wished you could see him more, but you made sure to make the most of the times you could spend with him, especially during long holiday breaks.
“Hey hey hey!!!!” Bokuto thrusts his fists into the air after slamming the volleyball into the sand on the other side of the net with unnecessary force. The group of college kids who had invited you both to join in their game looked to be regretting that decision now, even the ones playing on your team.
“Okay Mister ‘Best ace in the country.’ You don’t have to show off that much.” You tell him with a laugh, “This isn’t a professional game. Nobody’s going to want to play with you again if they’re scared of you.” Bokuto wasn’t worried about the random people standing on the other side of the net though. He was still celebrating the point he’d just earned with that last spike.
“You weren’t kidding when you said he was good,” one of your opponents picks up the ball and tosses it back over the net. “It’s match point now.”
“Your serve!” Bokuto flashes a wide grin and gives you a thumbs up, “don’t forget to hit the ball the way I showed you earlier.”
“Just don’t judge me if it doesn’t go over,” you shake your head while holding the ball out in front of you and toss it in the air. Thankfully, the ball clears the net and a girl on the other side manages to keep it in the air and pass it to one of her teammates.
“It’s coming back over!” One of the people on your side calls out and gets ready to receive the ball.
“Send it over here!” Bokuto calls for the shot once again. The people you were playing with didn’t have the skills he was used to though and the aim was way off. The ball comes straight to you and you put your hands over your head, hoping you’d have better luck sending it to your friend who had that crazy, hungry look in his eyes. He was always so passionate about volleyball, even in a casual setting like this.
The ball touches your hands and you bump it back up into a smooth arc right towards Bokuto who had his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth adorably. He runs and jumps at the ball before slamming it down on the other side, where a few people even flinched away. Bokuto doesn’t even wait for anyone to call the match before throwing his fists up in victory again.
“Yeah!” He turns and practically charges at you with his hands up above his head.
“Whoa! Wait!” You put your hands up and close your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t use too much force. He surprises you though by just opening his arms and wrapping them around you in a tight hug. The college kids thank you for playing, but look slightly relieved when you suggest to Bokuto that you both cool off by going for a swim.
Being in the water meant it was your time to shine, and you couldn’t help but laugh at Bokuto who insisted on wearing blow up floaties on his arms. After you were both tired out, you head back onto the beach to spread out the blanket you’d brought and pull the food out of the cooler which you’d prepared beforehand.
“Ah!” Bokuto sighs and flops back on the blanket once he finishes eating. “I don’t want today to end.” You smile at his words and lay down next to him to look up at the clouds drifting by overhead.
“Liar,” you reply with a teasing tone in your voice. “You can hardly wait to return to school and get back to practicing for that upcoming tournament you’ve barely shut up about this whole vacation.”
“Yeah,” Bokuto turns his head to look at you with a frown. “But it’d be better if I could take you back with me. I always feel so sad when we say goodbye.”
“I know,” you reach over and pat his hand, feeling amused that after all this time he still wore his heart on his sleeve. “I don’t like having my best friend so far away either, but I’m proud of you for working so hard and doing what makes you happy every day.” The praise gives Bokuto a little bit of his spunk back and he looks back up with a grin on his face.
“Once we’re both done with school, we’ll never spend so much time apart,” he declares suddenly.
“I’m pretty sure you’ll have even less time then,” you point out, the more logical part of your brain kept you from joining in the fantasy. “You’ll join a professional team and travel around the country playing against other strong teams.”
“Then I’ll bring you with me,” he says as if that were obvious. “It won’t be any fun otherwise.”
“That’s sweet,” you can’t help but feel a little emotional knowing that you meant so much to him and his happiness. You had no idea how serious he was or if it would even be possible since you’d have a career of your own, but it was a nice thought nonetheless. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Once the sun started to set, you and Bokuto knew it was time to start packing up your things and head home. It was a bittersweet feeling knowing that your summer break was almost over and that Bokuto would be leaving soon. You’d had so much fun together, and you couldn’t help but wonder what the future had in store for the two of you. There was one thing you did know for certain though, and it was that you’d be more than content spending perfect days like this one with Bokuto for the rest of your life.
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hotchley · 3 years
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dkfjsksj omg SWEETIE when are you publishing your novel!!! bc i would SO BUY IT JUST TO SUPPORT YOU OMG
pls make it available worldwide i 10/10 would buy regardless of shipping fees
just curious: are you planning to self publish your book or go through external publishers? have you planned for how you want the cover to look like? 👀
how many pages is it so far? are you almost done or not there yet? (it's honestly fine if you're not, masterpieces take time!!!!! ❤️)
omg also do you do like moodboards/aesthetics/song playlists kind of things for your characters 🥴 bc that would be a very cool way to introduce them! but honestly i know life is tiring and very busy already so it's okay if you don't have time for this
also: where did you come up with their names? (bc honestly i keep using names of people i know irl when i write.... i once merged 2 of my friend's ex boyfriends names and tweaked them a little to form an unsub's name so 😭💀💀)
i hope writing has been going smoothly for you!! remember to drink water & take breaks! you can do it, i believe in you 🥰❤️
🌙
I love you so much! I love all of you because you really came through with these questions!! It was a very good distraction <3 I've put everything below the cut because I feel like my answers were getting very, very long x
1. OKAY SO HERE'S THE THING!
I'm currently in the process of editing, and I was going to publish it on Wattpad and enter the Wattys (if I get it up in time) and see what happens... I know Wattpad has a bit of a... reputation, but it's the most accessible platform for me and others to use, because I want it to be available to lots of different people, and that's both free and not difficult to use because you can change the colour scheme and font size.
2. On the one hand. I want it published because I think it would be really cool. It's extremely long (and by all the guidelines I've seen, a little bit too long for a young adult novel) but it's mine, and I did it, and I would want to share that with others. On the other hand, I have no idea how to go about self-publishing, and I hate being criticised, so publishing is a bit of a... iffy thing. I've also got very little knowledge of publishing in general. And I like writing for fun you know? Like I started planning my second novel, and wrote a bit of that, but then I got sucked back into this, and fanfic, and I know I don't want to write for a living.
And I'm not saying that if you publish one thing, you need to do it full-time, but still. Also, the idea of some of the people I know being aware that I wrote a novel and the contents of it... no. That just fills with my dread. So I think I'll put it up on Wattpad, and we'll see what happens!
I do have a cover! It's very amateur, but it kinda matches the one I did when I was writing it into my notebook, so to me it's something sentimental. I mean, the notebook cover was just the title, so this is a bit more exciting with an actual image lol
3. It's currently thirty-one chapters. Well, thirty-three if you include the prologue and epilogue. It's also 452 pages, but the chapters don't always start on new pages, and if you think that's bad, the second draft somehow ended up being 670 pages (but I think that's to do with the spacing getting all messed up...) As it stands, it's 172536 words umm....
I'm getting closer to finishing!! I finished chapter twenty-five last night, so I just have six chapters and the epilogue to go. I'm pretty sure some of them are shorter, but I have vivid memories of the final chapter being LONG. I just checked, it's 13,776 words... so... may split that in two whoops :)
4. YES!! YES I DO!! I have a whole pinterest board that I only made after the second draft?? It's basically what led to the third draft. I was like: oh, I'm not ready to say goodbye, let me make a pinterest board. And then when I was trying to think of things to search to make it I was like: I have no idea how to describe any of these people...
I have a moodboard for the five main characters, and one for the aesthetic of the school. And I'm thinking: the week leading up to the publication, I'm going to share each character one, and (I already have the post in my drafts) the post with all the information is going to have the Eros Academy one :)
And there's a playlist! I need to sort it out because there are some songs on there that I kinda don't really like/no longer fit with what I want it to be, but then I also just use it as something to listen to whilst I write, so maybe not... the playlist is going to be part of a) the post with all the stuff and b) the aesthetics chapter <3
4. Names.... names were complicated. Many people had them changed. If you're wondering what I mean by many:
Tiberias -> Tristan
Mr Winchester -> Mr Carter
Eleanora -> Viola
Spencer -> Peter
Green -> Gill
The Headmaster -> Rotchforth
And so many people's parents just weren't named so... I just chose their names super randomly. I chose names because I wanted them to sound all noble and fancy. And then I wanted some more normal and ordinary names. And some of them I just chose because I liked them.
I did like looking at the meanings though, just for a bit of fun
It's been fun!! I will <3 I'm also self-isolating (I tested negative, but regardless) so there's not really much else I can do... let's ignore the virtual experience, personal statement and coursework reading I'm supposed to be working on....
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everydayanth · 4 years
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Academic Elitism: an institutional issue
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Sorry for being so rant-y lately, but the elitism of university has been a problem for me from the exact moment I accepted my scholarship with a signature and a handshake in high school. (The scholarship was later revoked due to state up-fuckery, but that’s another story, and I was already in too deep by the time they told me).
My parent’s house was only an hour north, my younger sister had already claimed my room, but I was excited. I was in the furthest dorm building, because that’s where the scholarship kids went, it was like a poor kid diversity hall, every few doors was someone from a completely different background, but we were all poor except our Swedish RA, and there was an odd pride in that. We all had various scholarships: robotics, dance team, nerds like me, etc. (not the football or hockey athletes though, they had their own dorm next to the library for... reasons, lol).
But being the last hall, it wasn’t actually full, most of us had entire rooms to ourselves, often whole suites; our hall was co-ed, but rooms were only occupied at every-other, staggered down the corridor. Only the front two halls were used, the back two closed off for construction or codes or something. We had to hike up the hill for dining halls, which was fine until snowdays that shut the whole campus down (and I mean west Michigan ones, with 4+ feet of powder and ice underneath). I had an old computer my dad got me for graduation and I didn’t know it was old until my peers started calling it a dinosaur. I had to use the library computers to write and print papers, and most places I went, I ran into the other scholarship kids. We didn’t talk much, just a head bob here and there, awareness at our similarities and an annoyed spite at being thrown together this way. It was lonely for everyone.
I had a purple flip phone I’d gotten only that calendar year (2009) and was still learning to text with (abbreviations? instant messaging? what?). My roommate had come down from Alaska to live near her dad, we’d talked in the summer, but I never saw her. I moved my things in and her stuff was on her side, I texted her about going to turn in paperwork and when I came back, there was a note on my bed and all her things were gone, she couldn’t do it, had never been away from home for even a night. She left a few mismatched socks and a bag of junk pens that I resented for years. 
Social media was mostly a way to talk to people across campus and exchange homework and party times/locations. We posted over-edited photos of our food and still jogged with our mp3 players and ipods. But within two years, I had to trade in my computer three times and upgrade to a smartphone to keep up with the expectations of communication. Professors would cancel classes by emails an hour out, and if I was on campus, I simply didn’t get the message, running between classes with 19 credit hours and three jobs. Work would call in or cancel my appointments (tutoring) and I needed to be able to communicate at the rate of my peers, so though it wasn’t something we could easily afford, my parents let me get the smartphone and my dad helped me find computers that could keep up with writing papers and researching without having to go to the lab, which saved so much time. 
There was little understanding for my suffering. I didn’t have a car, I had to call my parents and organize a time to get home or take the train which was more expensive than waiting around on an empty campus. They were often things that even the wealthiest students had to deal with, but there were so much more of them for us, more stress, more problems, more solutions, more consequences, and in some ways, more determination.
I spent plenty of breaks holed up in my room, but when the swine flu/H1N1 outbreak happened, guess where they quarantined students?
In our hall. 
Not the back one that was closed. In the room attached to my suite. 
After half a semester alone, suddenly strangers shared my bathroom. I never saw them, I would just hear the formidable click of the bathroom lock followed by the shower. A week later I got a blue half-sheet note in my mailbox about quarantines. The other kids were as pissed off, as we watched kids escorted in with blue masks and were told to just get cleaning wipes from the front desk –they ran out in a week. 
We were the recyclable students, brought in to trade scholarships for university grade averages. Many of my friends were struggling with scholarship qualifications and gpas (which only encouraged my continual obsessive perfectionism and involvement). 
We were expendable. 
I didn’t understand the elitism then, or I did, but I’d twisted it in my head from years tossed between private and public schools. I was an invader, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but I wanted to be. I understood that I didn’t deserve it, that I had to work harder to stay. I completed Master’s coursework for my Bachelor’s degree, finishing two BA programs (anthropology and English: creative writing) and 2 minor programs in philosophy and world lit, lead several campus groups and volunteered with honor’s societies. I spent hours on campus every day, running home just to go to one job or the other. I slept about four hours a night and I still romanticize it because I loved it. And I was good at it. It was a closed system, easy to infiltrate, easy to watch and observe and follow, to feel protected from the world, but there were always ways that I came up short. 
I didn’t have leggings or Northface fleeces or Ugg boots or name brand anything (except a pair of converse I got in 8th grade from my Babcia). I had old high school sweats and soccer shirts, hand-me-down clothes from sisters and cousins that mix-matched a style I thought was unique but I now understand screamed I don’t really belong here. Example: I went to propose an independent study to a professor I really admired and I panicked about what to wear. I still cringe at the memory, gahhhhhh, but I pulled on what I thought was a decent dress because it had no rips or stains or tears and though I’d picked it up from a clearance rack, it was the newest thing and therefore the best. But in retrospect, it was definitely a “party” dress, I grabbed a sweater, hoop earrings that had always been beautiful in my neighborhood, and heels I never wore otherwise, and presented my idea. This old professor was just like “um...did you dress up for me?” Clearly spooked by red flags and I realized my mistake. Saved by quick thinking I clarified “no, I have a presentation later,” and being a familiar face in the social sciences department, I let him assume I was dressed up as something. I just went in my sweats and t-shirts after that, got a haircut that tamed the wavy frizz and learned the importance of muted tones, cardigans, and flats.
I made a lot of interesting friends in the process, people who also stuck out from the American Academic culture: exchange students, older (non-traditional) students, rebels, and other poor kids. But that also meant that we all evolved during our time there, so friendship was quick and fleeting as we adapted or dropped out or remained oblivious, lost in our studies and dreams of changing the world or our lives. 
I had no idea how to approach the dining halls because I could only afford the bronze plan that was included with my room+board scholarship. I could enter the hall ten times per week, with four included passes to the after-hours carry-out (this was an upgrade from the free high school lunch I was coming from). I met other kids on this plan and their dorm rooms had fridges and microwaves and shelves of ramen and mac’n’cheese. Mine was sparse, my fridge had jugs of water from the filtered tap in the common room, and though it had a shared kitchenette, it always smelled bad or was being used and the nearest grocery store was Meijers which was a 15-20 minute drive from campus. I used so much energy dividing up my meals and figuring out how to sneak food from the hall for later or just learn to not eat, which is another story involving malnutrition, broken bones, and the American Healthcare System.
We like to summarize the college experience with fond struggles. I went back to my old high school to watch my younger sisters’ marching band competition that first year (it’s MI, and they were good). My old art teacher (not much older than we were but she felt so much older at the time, also her maiden name was Erickson and so was her fiance’s so she didn’t “change” her name and that blows my mind to this day), anyway, she stopped me to ask how school was going, and I was not prepared to be recognized in anyway and stammered out something like “oh, yeah, stressful. Fun, cool, yeah,” like the eloquent well-educated student I was. And she said, “oh, I loved it, don’t you love it? Everything’s so charming, and being poor? Oh man, it’s hard for a while, but it’s so good to go through.” 
I was dumbfounded at her reference to poverty as a thing to go through when you’re a student. I again had to remember that I was infiltrating places where people weren’t just marginally more well-off than I was, but far beyond, in a place where they couldn’t comprehend an alternative, couldn’t conceive of surviving poverty, of not having a reliable place to fall if you mess up, parents who couldn’t support you if things went wrong, who couldn’t save you from having to drop out if scholarships were canceled because the money just wasn’t there.
Talking with my parents never worked, and I recently found this video by The Financial Diet about Boomer shame in being poor, where many Millennials were united by it and it was #relatable. But all this is to say that there are so many layers and ways we develop in higher education that are often overlooked by the romantic nostalgia of the elite expectation. What we demand from education vs. what it offers us in return is rarely equal for students coming from poverty, and it starts with that first sacrifice of looking at money and deciding it has to be worth it to do something bigger, and that education is a necessary piece of that goal.
Now I live near Brown University, I’ve been to Harvard when we lived in Boston and recently took a trip to Yale with bold expectations. I am friends with several people who work at these places and I hear the same things: so many students are in a place where their obsessions are considered more important than the larger world, an argument that Shakespeare is a woman is more important to prove than the greater issues of sexism in society as a whole, while others are trained to look at data and the world as a pocketable fact-book, going to conferences and  week-long summits and then off to D.C. to make important decisions about places they’ve never been to, for people they’ve never met, about problems they’ve never experienced.  
It’s not new. It’s not romantic. It’s not nostalgic. It’s just sick. 
I was horrified at New Haven. I have read so many social science reports and papers and experiments and academic bullshit that has come from professors at Yale with a big badge of ivy-league validation. So much of this research was focused on homelessness and culture clash and socio-economics in America, as that was my “dissertation” that got me discounted master’s classes for my BA in Anthropology. Anyway, my point was that I thought this noble, proud university that put out so much research was going to be situated in something of a utopia, where their research is put into practice. Obviously, I was wrong, but I didn’t expect how wrong. (I had also started reading Leigh Bardugo’s Ninth House, so... there’s another thing).
My observations were validated by employees of ivy-league schools, who have watched over the past 2 decades as they grow more and more reclusive, hiding away from the public except through a few, probably well-intentioned, outstretched hands that do little to contribute to the world outside the university itself. These ivory towers are built by poaching: environments, observations, resources, research, and yeah, even students.
I love academia. I will sit in a library for hours just pulling down tomes (and putting them back in their proper locations like a dork) and drawing connections just for fun. But right now, I’m a bit bitter and spiteful and angry. 
When something like Coronavirus sneaks up on us, we have a tendency to throw the most expendable people under the bus as quickly as we can, and all I can think about is my shadow of a suite-mate sneezing and coughing with swine flu for two weeks, at how I refused to use my own bathroom and listened to my hall-mates’ advice about showering at the rec center a mile away as we all collectively locked our bathroom doors and were left there by the university to get sick without insurance to help with any foreseeable costs.
It’s not the same now, they’ve rebuilt the entire section of the campus, it’s odd to see it, I wonder where they put the expendable kids. Or maybe they don’t accept them anymore. I’ve worked in college admissions since then, and it is a scary industry of politics and preference and hidden quotas and image-agendas. Not all schools are industry monsters, but when you’re expendable, they sure do feel like it, whether you graduate summa cum laude with two degrees, six awards, and five tasseled ropes around your neck or not. 
I wish I had a positive message. I wish I was in a place to help people who feel expendable or like they can’t keep up with communications because of technology or language or network or environment. But I don’t have much right now. For all its posturing and linear progression, academia needs to create profit. All I can do is yell about this existing.
If you are feeling expandable in university, I can tell you you’re not alone. I can let you rant about all the small ways your peers don’t get it, whether its an accent they shit on or ceremonies you don’t have the right clothes for or textbooks you share with a friend to cut costs but then they hoard them. I can relate to you about guilt and that sneaking panic that fills you with anxiety at night as you question yourself and wonder if it’s worth it at all, if it’s necessary, if it’s okay to be expendable to follow something that feels bigger. I can validate your doubt and tell you that you’re not actually expendable, you’re a bridge. 
I’m sorry it still works like this. I wish we figured out how to change it by now, I wish I had secret shortcuts to tell you about, that there was more accountability or hope, but I’m not seeing it lately. I hope you do. <3
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