#which means that guy just looks like he’s super nice and polite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saetoru · 7 months

Note

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

#bye #this is so obnoxiously long for a silly little jumble of thoughts #maybe i’ll flesh it out and make it an actual fic tho #bully! gojo tag

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stylesloveclub · 9 months

Text

sunshine (part 1)

In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.

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Y/n wonders if she thinks too highly of herself.

She thinks she’s pretty. Not in an obnoxious, self-obsessed way! She knows she’s not a supermodel, and she definitely has a lot of days where she looks and feels totally dead – but at the end of the day, she’s not hideous. She splurges on pretty makeup products, does her hair in the mornings, spends a decent amount of time planning out cute outfits… you know, little things to make herself feel pretty!

She brushes her teeth twice a day, showers regularly, flosses. Wears pretty perfumes that smell like flowers and lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There’s a stash of gum in her bag that she’s always chewing on, so she knows she doesn’t have bad breath; and she carries an extra deodorant in her backpack too, so you can’t tell her she’s repulsive or anything like that.

She’s kind. She smiles at strangers and always laughs at people’s jokes (even if they aren’t funny)— holds the elevator door open and says a polite “good morning” or “hello!” with her happy, cheery voice. And even though she’s a bit shy, she tries her best to spread love and kindness in the world. It just makes her happy to make other people happy!

Plus, being nice means that everyone else is nicer to you. So even if she’s in a bad mood, she’ll fake a smile and pretend like she’s happy y/n.

But, she wonders... if she has all of these amazing qualities– if she really is as pretty and kind and wonderful as she makes herself out to be– then why hasn’t she been kissed yet?

She loves her friends, of course she does! But how is she so different from them? Why do all of her friends get asked out on dates and have amazing boyfriends while she’s still a lonely virgin who hasn’t even been kissed yet?

It’s not like she’s this super virginal person who gets grossed out by boys! She wants to be kissed, she wants to get fucked! She’s toyed around with the idea of just downloading tinder and losing it all to some stranger in one night stand, but her romantic heart just can’t stand the thought of it.

Yes, she’s desperate… but she’s also romantic. Love is on her mind 24/7. It’s what she thinks about before she falls asleep, what she daydreams about whenever she gets bored. She could spend hours with a romance novel, hyper fixating on the little things that most people wouldn’t blink an eye at. The way the boy’s hand cupped the girl’s jaw while they kissed, or how their fingers brushed as they walked down the street. Little things like forehead kisses and prolonged glances across a room.

She craves it for herself, desperately aches for the affection that she reads of. She wants to rest her head on someone’s chest and listen to their heartbeat as she falls asleep, feel their fingers playing with her hair, or their lips skimming her cheek. Wants to laugh under the covers and share secrets and be vulnerable and in love. She wants it more than anything in the world!

And yet, she hasn’t even been kissed!

Everyone else seems to do it so easily – find a nice guy, go out on a date, and fall in love. So why is it so hard for her? Her friends tell her that she's the prettiest and sweetest girl out there, and that the right guy simply hasn’t come around yet… but y/n can’t help but think, is any of it true?

Is she even that pretty? Is she actually likable?

What’s wrong with her?

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

Harry hates these stupid college parties.

They’re loud and stuffy, with way too many people crammed into one room for his liking. The alcohol is cheap, the music is annoying. The entire apartment smells like weed, and there’s not even a secluded corner for him to mope around in without some group of drunk girls completely invading his personal space. Everything about these parties sucks.

If he could, he’d leave. But he’s meant to give a ride home to his roomie Blake, and Blake’s currently hooking up with the host of this party.

So Harry’s stuck here. Great.

He checks his phone, and it’s nearly midnight. Blake should be done soon, right? The blonde girl who’s been talking to him for the past 20 minutes is getting awfully close, her hand trailing on his biceps and migrating towards his chest, and she’s blinking up at him with fluttery bambi eyes.

Any other night and Harry might be into whatever this girl is hinting at, but he’s 100% sober and 100% not in the mood to hook up with a girl who’s taken one too many shots. He grabs the girl's hands and peels them off of his chest gently, muttering something about needing to use the restroom (he doesn’t even need to use the bathroom, he just needs a minute away from the pounding music).

He sends her off in the direction of her friends, who are giggling to each other in a corner across the room and not-so-inconspicuously checking to see if their friend has managed to successfully get with Harry. He’s sure they’ve realized that he rejected her when they all glare at him. Sorry to disappoint, he thinks to himself.

He’s nearly positive that any bathrooms in this shitty college apartment will probably be occupied, either with someone throwing up all the drinks they’ve had or with a couple hooking up. But no harm in trying anyway.

The first door that he tries to open is locked. The second door opens up to reveal a coat closet.

The third door however, opens up to a bedroom.

The walls are decorated with posters and pictures, fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and tiny pots of succulents placed all over the room… but the one thing that stands out the most is the overwhelming number of books scattered all over the room. There’s a bookshelf on each wall, cluttered with books of all colors and sizes. Stacks of books lie on the nightstand by the bed, a stray book sits on top of a dresser, and a pile of new, untouched books sits pristinely in the far right corner of the room.

Books, books, and more books all over the room. And, a book in the hands of a girl sitting quietly in her bed, staring at Harry.

Dressed in a hoodie and some fuzzy pj pants, the book that she’d once held up closely to her face now rests on her lap as she blinks up at this strange intruder. She sits upright, closing the book but sticking her finger between the pages so that she doesn’t lose her place. “Um… hi?” she says quietly.

He steps into the room, and looks at her blankly. “Hi.” She blinks at him. “S’this room taken?” he asks.

“Um. Well,” she looks at him curiously. “No, I guess not.”

“Okay, good,” he responds, quickly closing the door behind him. He sits on a spinny chair that he pulls out from under a desk and leans his head back, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

The girl, with her finger still lodged between her book, stares at him confused. Who is this guy?

He’s cute, and she’s mildly embarrassed that he’s come into her room when she’s looking so… sleepy. But he also seems kinda grumpy and is obviously not in the mood to talk. He’s leaning back in her chair and closing his eyes, gently rubbing his temples as if he’s meditating.

She observes him with wide eyes. Then after a minute of silence she awkwardly picks her book back up and tries to resume reading.

Kinda hard to do with some random guy sitting in her bedroom, though.

In this secluded bedroom, the sound of the music has decreased dramatically. Harry’s pounding headache starts to fade away, and he feels himself start to relax for the first time since he arrived at this stupid party. He looks around the room that he so luckily stumbled into.

The desk in front of him is, to no surprise, cluttered with more books. A laptop is plugged in in front of him, and there’s a cup full of colorful pens and markers sitting against the wall. Hanging on the wall is a string of pictures starring the same girl with different groups of people.

He looks at the pictures hanging from the walls. Then he looks back at the girl laying in the bed.

“S’this your room?” he asks, finally connecting the dots.

She looks up from the book again and nods.

“Oh,” he hums, surprised. He supposes he should’ve realized it as soon as he walked in. Girl in a room full of books, reading a book. Face clean of all makeup, snuggled up in a blanket, nice and comfy as though she’s just about ready for bed. It’s a bit silly that he only made the connection once he saw her pictures up on the walls. “Why aren’t you out there partying?”

“Um… not really my scene,” she says, closing the book and looking at Harry properly. Her nose scrunches up, “And it smells really bad in there.”

“Jesus, tell me about it,” he groans. “Could hardly breathe in there. In fact–” he says, already standing up, “d’ya mind if we open up a window? Still feels stuffy in here.”

She shows no resistance as he slides the window open, accepting the fact that she’d be sharing her room with this stranger until the party was over. Harry sticks his head out and takes a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Much better than the sweaty, smoky, sickly smell going on inside the apartment.

When he turns back around, the girl has rearranged herself. She sits criss-crossed on her bed and looks up at Harry, fidgeting nervously with her lip bitten between her teeth.

She’s kind of cute.

Harry breaks the silence again. “I think your roommate is hooking up with my roommate right now.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Is your roommate Blake?”

He nods.

“Yeah, Maddie’s been saying that she, um… you know,” she looks down at her hands as they play with a loose thread on the hem of her pants. “Wants to hook up with him or whatever.”

He nods his head, leaning back against her wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. As refreshing as the air is, the night time breeze is cold.

“No offense,” he says, “But you don’t seem like you’d be friends with Maddie.” Maddie (y/n’s roommate) has jet black hair, wears heavy eyeliner and black lipstick everyday, and is at least a little bit high 90% of the time. Y/n, in comparison, has flowery bed sheets, a stuffed bunny tucked in next to her, and is hiding in her bedroom while a party being thrown in her own apartment.

She just smiles softly. “Yeah, we met online. But she’s really nice.”

He raises his eyebrow. “She seems like a bitch.”

She defends her roommate immediately. “She’s not a bitch!” But then she thinks about it for a second. Maddie can definitely come off a bit… harsh at times. “Well… she’s usually really nice to me, at least.”

That makes sense. It would be very hard to be mean to this girl, he imagines. She’s too nice. It would be like being mean to a puppy or something.

Good thing Harry isn’t mean. He’s just… a bit of a grump.

She taps her fingers against the cover of her book awkwardly, staring at Harry as he looks up to her ceiling and closes his eyes. He just wants to be in his bed right now.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry pushes himself off the wall. “I think Blake should be done,” he says, checking the time on his phone. “I’m going to leave now.”

“Okay,” says the girl quietly. She watches as he leaves with a nod of his head, and shuts the door behind him.

That was weird, she thinks.

Whatever, though. She opens her book and forgets about it.

+++

Don’t people say that drowsy driving is just as bad as drunk driving? What constitutes drowsy driving? Should y/n even be out on the road right now?

She doesn’t know. All she knows is that Maddie woke her up with a phone call at 2 AM, asking if y/n would come pick her up from Blake’s apartment cause she was too high to get back on her own and she doesn’t want to stay the night there.

Y/n, being the sweetheart that she is, obviously wants her roommate to get back safe. So she’s in her car, at 2 AM, yawning every three seconds as she drives to the location Maddie sent her.

She texts Maddie from the car, but Maddie doesn’t respond. She calls her, then sends another text, but still no answer. After 10 minutes of no response, she goes up to the door and knocks.

Maddie doesn’t answer. Instead, it’s Harry.

His eyebrows furrow as recognizes the girl from that party he’d been at two weeks ago. She looks just as comfortable as she did then, in a big pink hoodie and a pair of sweats. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice confused and his eyes doubting. Not many people come knocking at his door at 2 AM.

Unlike y/n, who looks like she just rolled out of bed and drove here (that is exactly what she did), Harry looks like he’s been up all night (he’s been playing COD). He’s not wearing a shirt and has a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, showing off a chiseled abdomen that acts as a canvas for a multitude of pretty tattoos. Y/n finds herself staring at the swallows that lie under his collarbones, the butterfly painted above his stomach, and the ferns lining a yummy pair of v-lines that point downwards… she swallows thickly and forces herself to look away.

“Um,” she covers her mouth as she yawns, hiding her cold fingers with the sleeves of her hoodie, “Maddie needed me to drive her home.” She blinks sleepily, and can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed that she looks so dead.

“It’s 2 in the morning,” he scoffs. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She blinks sleepily again. “I was.”

Harry rolls his eyes. If it were him, he would not have gotten up and driven all the way over here. Someone else’s problems are not enough to get him out of bed. But, this girl… she’s too nice.

He leaves her at the door and goes to Blake’s room, pounding on the door rudely. “Hey!” he yells, irritation evident in his tone, “your roommate’s here.”

He hears a bit of shuffling, before Maddie stumbles out of Blake’s room, makeup askew and clothing only half on. She giggles up at Harry and apologizes playfully, but he just glares at her. Her eyes are glazed over and the whites of her eyes bloodshot, very obviously high if the way she couldn’t walk straight wasn’t enough of an indication.

He feels bad for the stupid girl who drove all the way over here in the middle of the night because her roommate wanted to get high.

Maddie trips over her own feet and falls into y/n, who uses all of her strength to keep her roommate upright and walks her slowly down to the car. “Are you feeling okay?” Harry hears her ask quietly. He scoffs to himself.

He doesn’t get it. How the fuck has this girl not lost her shit? Her irresponsible roommate woke her up at 2 am and made her drive all the way to some stranger’s house, and yet she still manages to be so… gentle. So kind, to someone who barely even deserves it. So caring, to someone who seems to care so little.

As y/n helps Maddie get into the car, she looks back up to the apartment and sees Harry watching them from the doorstep. They make eye contact for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he leans against the doorframe. His gaze makes her heart stutter, a chill running down her spine. He looks… upset. Almost like he’s mad at her.

It makes her frown. She wants to say something to him, apologize for ruining his night… but then Maddie sticks her head out of the car and vomits.

Harry shakes his head and turns away.

That girl is too nice for her own good.

+++

“Hey.” Blake pokes his head into Harry’s room, where Harry’s busy playing a round on his computer, “Do you mind if Maddie and her friend come over?”

“Don’t care,” Harry mumbles, uninterested, not looking away from his game.

“Sick,” he turns around to go back into his own room, but stops when Harry suddenly pauses his game and calls out to him.

“Who’s the friend?” Harry asks, turning around.

“Y/n,” Blake answers. Harry stares at him, his brows furrowed. The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Her roommate.”

“That quiet girl?” Harry clarifies.

“Yeah, that one.”

Oh. So her name was y/n.

Good to know.

+++

It’s dark out when Harry finally turns off his game, sliding his headset off and stretching his back. He lets out a long groan as he feels his spine crack, a delicious feeling after being hunched over his controller for three hours straight.

Standing up, he scratches at his stomach lazily, throwing his headset onto his chair. His arms feel a bit sore, having been to the gym earlier that day, and his hair is still wet from when he showered. He puts on a sweatshirt, finding his apartment too cold to be roaming around shirtless, and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat.

He stops in his tracks when he finds y/n sitting in his living room all alone.

She’s got a book in her hands, a thick, worn-out novel that looks older than herself. She’s sitting comfortably on their couch with her legs tucked underneath her butt, so engulfed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t even realize that she’s not alone anymore.

It’s the first time he’s ever seen her outside of her sleep attire. She’s wearing a pair of loose, comfy looking corduroy pants, and a tight top that cuts off just below her ribs. Her chest rises and falls steadily, eyes skimming across the pages of her book so quickly that he wonders if she’s actually absorbing any of the words or not. She chews on her lip as she reads, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

When Harry finally speaks, it makes her jump in her place. “Where are Blake and Maddie?”

Her book nearly falls out of her hands as she whips her head around. When she sees it’s him, she relaxes. “Oh. Um,” she sits upright, closing her book, “They’re in his room.”

He nods slowly, squinting his eyes. There’s no nice way to ask his next question, so he just spits it out bluntly. “Why’d you come over if you’re just sitting out here while they hook up?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, feeling a little shy under his intimidating gaze. “Maddie was my ride to campus today. And she wanted to stop by here before we went home.” She shrugs quietly, “So I kinda had no choice.”

He huffs. Of course.

Y/n says that Maddie’s nice, but Harry really doesn’t like her. How weird is it to drag your friend somewhere just to have them sit alone while you go hook up with someone?

“How long have you guys been here?” he asks.

“Like, an hour.”

“So you’ve been sitting around doing nothing for an hour?”

She pouts. “I had my book.”

He blinks. She just sat here reading for an hour, while her roommate abandoned her to go hookup with Blake… and she’s okay with it?

She is too nice for her own good.

“Do y’want some pizza?” he asks, already opening the freezer.

Normally, y/n would say no. She’s kind of an unwelcome guest and she doesn’t want to be a burden on Harry. But… she hasn’t had anything since breakfast. And Maddie still hasn’t come out. She’s kind of starving.

“What kind?” she asks politely.

“Umm… cheese or pepperoni.”

“I don’t like pepperoni,” she confesses shyly. “But also I could just pick it off if you want pepperoni. Whatever you want.”

He rolls his eyes, shoving the pepperoni pizza back into the freezer. He wants to scream at her to stop being so nice! Stop being so considerate and just say what you want!

He puts it in the oven to bake, setting a timer for 15 minutes, then takes a moment to contemplate his next move. He could either go back into his room, where he could lie in bed and nap until the pizza was ready… or he could stay in here and sit awkwardly on the couch so that y/n wouldn’t be all alone.

99% of him wants to just go back into his room where he can be grumpy and alone in peace… but then he looks over at y/n, who’s sitting on the couch all by herself. She looks so uncomfortable and out of place, tracing her thumb over the raised up font on the hardcover in her hands.

The 1% of him that feels bad for her wins. He sits down next to her on the couch.

He nods his head towards the worn out book, which looks thicker than anything he’s ever read. “Are you reading the fuckin’ bible?”

“No,” she shakes her head, laughing to herself quietly. She runs her fingers over the grooves of the title, a feeling so familiar that it comforts her when she’s feeling so out of place. “It’s Wuthering Heights.”

He furrows his brow. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s good,” she says. “Kinda dense, but I’ve already read it a few times. It’s one of my favorites.”

He nods again, tapping his fingers on his thighs as silence overtakes the apartment once more. He looks around the living room, trying to find something else to say.

Y/n’s heart pitter patters in her chest nervously. She can’t help but feel a bit nervous around Harry. She’s pretty shy in general, and Harry’s stoic demeanor certainly doesn’t help her relax. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Um… what’s your major?” A feeble attempt on her end at a conversation.

“Math.”

“Just math?” she parrots.

“Mhm,” he cracks his knuckles. “Pure math.”

She huffs out a quiet breath, a pout on her lips. “I’m in a math class right now.” Her fingers pick at a piece of fuzz that’s stuck on the couch. “Calc 1. It’s really hard.”

“Mm, yeah.” Harry hums, “Took that during my first year.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, “Did you pass?”

He holds back a smile. It’s amusing, how earnestly she’s asking him – a math major – if he passed Calculus 1. That class was generally easy for him, mostly just beginner stuff compared to the math he does now that he’s in his third year. But he doesn’t say that. “Yeah, I did,” he says simply, not wanting to make her feel bad.

She nods, looking back down at her book. “I’m kinda scared. Our first midterm was really hard.”

He hums sympathetically. Even though it was easy for him, he knows that calc class is infamously hard for others – especially for those who aren’t math inclined like himself. “How about you? What’s your major?”

His legs are spread apart so that he takes up nearly half the couch, whereas y/n sits curled up on the other corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Bio,” she readjusts herself so that she’s sitting crisscrossed, her book still clutched to her chest protectively. “With a concentration in ecology.”

Ew. He hates biology. Actually… he hates everything except math. Math is easy for him.

The oven beeps. A rush of relief fills his chest, finally free from this awkward conversation, and he eagerly abandons y/n on the couch to get the pizza out. He’s hungry, starving, and doesn’t bother with a plate or anything before grabbing a slice and shoving it in his mouth.

“Come have some,” he mumbles, mouth full.

She timidly walks over to the kitchen counter that he’s standing at, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, and takes a slice as well. Blowing on it, she takes a much smaller bite than Harry did since it’s still so hot. She doesn’t know how he managed to already finish a whole slice.

Now that they can focus on eating their food, there’s no need for any more small talk. They eat comfortably in silence, only acknowledging each other when y/n asks for a napkin. He nods towards one of the drawers, asking her to grab him one too, and then they’re back to eating in silence.

Blake and Maddie burst out of his room a few minutes later.

“Harry made dinner!” exclaims Blake, coming over and reaching for a slice of pizza.

Harry yanks the tray out of his reach. “Get your own pizza,” he mumbles, putting the pizza back down in front of y/n. He looks at her, and nods his head towards the pizza, inviting her to take another slice.

Maddie stops her before she can reach for a second slice. “Ready to go?” she asks.

Y/n nods, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Thanks for the pizza,” she whispers to Harry, quiet enough so that only he hears.

“Yeah,” is all he says. He barely looks at her, too busy scarfing down his third (maybe fourth) slice.

She grabs her stuff and follows Maddie out of the boys apartment.

+++

“Hey!” Maddie pushes her way through the stuffed apartment, reaching her hand out towards y/n. “Listen, I’m gonna go home with Blake.”

“W-What?” Y/n’s head is foggy, her brain a little clouded from the few drinks that she’s had. Y/n doesn’t normally drink, so the little bit of alcohol in her system has had its intended effect and gone a bit further as well – her cheeks are warm, and she feels the world sway a little bit as she looks up at Maddie with a pout. “But– but what about me?”

Normally, y/n stays home whenever Maddie wants to go out and party. She prefers the comfort of her own bed and hates the anxiety she feels when she’s drunk and wobbly and surrounded by a bunch of strangers. But Maddie had assured her that they’d be together all night, that she’d take care of her if she got drunk, and that she’d drive them home whenever y/n wanted to leave.

She’s broken all three of those promises.

When they got to the party, Maddie abandoned her as soon as she saw Blake across the room. Luckily, y/n saw some of her own friends that she was able to hang out with, some girls from her ecology class who gave her a yummy strawberry smirnoff. They talked and laughed and y/n was having a good time, slowly but surely getting a little bit tipsy. The drink was so yummy, and Maddie wasn’t there to keep an eye on her, so she didn’t realize that she’d gone a bit over her tolerance.

She’s a bit tipsier than she’d like to be in a public setting, surrounded with people she doesn’t know, and it’s too dark outside for her to get home safely on her own. And now… Maddie wants to abandon her? For Blake?

“Don’t worry!” Maddie exclaims, completely disregarding the worry flickering in y/n’s glazed eyes. “I’ll order you an uber home!”

Y/n bites her lip nervously. An uber? At this time of night, when she’s all drunk and stumbling around like a sad little baby deer?

“Um… can’t you take me home before you go with Blake?”

Maddie rolls her eyes, “come on, really? I’ll pay for the uber. It'll be fine.”

Y/n’s heart beats loudly in her chest, “I-I’m scared of going by myself, Maddie. I think I had too much to drink, I don’t feel safe.”

Her roommate purses her lips in a firm line, as if she’s annoyed. She looks around the apartment, tapping her foot impatiently, then she lights up with an idea. “Stay here,” she tells y/n.

“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way back to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!”

He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.

“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated.

“Can you drive y/n home?”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.

“Why?”

“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.”

He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes.

“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.

She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?”

He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up.

“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.”

She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”

“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza.

Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.

“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously.

She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now.

With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment.

The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides.

He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.

Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot.

They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.

“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes.

His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly.

She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump in her throat as the drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light they stop at and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.

Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.

He stares at her befuddled, brows furrowed and eyes a piercing green, but she refuses to meet his gaze. She just looks outside the window in a melancholy haze, lost in thought, eyes unfocused as tears drip down her face silently.

He sighs deeply and taps his fingers against the steering wheel, praying for the red light to turn green so that he can get this girl home as soon as possible.

+++

When they arrive at her place, he sits in his car and watches as she stumbles up the steps of her apartment. She mumbled out a soft thank you through her tears and managed to climb out of his car smoothly, but the way she wobbles on her feet makes Harry worry that he shouldn’t leave until he’s sure she got in.

She stands in front of her door for a solid two minutes, trying to find her keys, and Harry taps his fingers against his thigh impatiently. When she finally finds them, she struggles to fit the key in the lock, hands shaky and her vision still blurred from the tears. Aaaand then she drops them.

Harry sighs and puts the car in park. By the time she’s picked the keys back up, Harry’s already gotten out of his car and reached the top step. He takes the keys from her and easily unlocks her door. “In,” he mutters, ushering her into her apartment impatiently.

He follows her into her bathroom and turns the light on for her. Their eyes meet in the mirror as he asks, “can you get yourself ready for bed?”

She nods, looking down at the ground sheepishly as he leaves her to take off her makeup and brush her teeth. She opts to skip her skincare routine and doesn’t even bother with putting her jewelry back in her jewelry box, simply just leaving her earrings on her bathroom counter to deal with tomorrow.

Harry’s probably gone back down to his car by now, she thinks. It’s so embarrassing, how he had to drive her home and guide her into her bathroom. He seemed annoyed with her. He probably thought she was so messy – an annoying, overdramatic girl who started crying in his car for no reason.

More tears bubble in her tears as the hot wave of embarrassment washes over her. She was such a mess, of course she’s never been in a relationship. Nobody would want to date someone like her.

She takes off her clothes and whips off her bra, sniffling to herself sadly. Slipping on her favorite sweatshirt, a huge pink one that goes down to her mid thighs and covers her hands, she uses the sleeves to wipe away the excess tears in her eyes. She stumbles over herself a bit and bangs her foot against her dresser as she reaches for a pair of sleep shorts and it only makes her want to cry even harder. Drunk y/n is extra emotional, and every little thing is sending over the edge.

As she’s stepping into her pair of sleep shorts, her bedroom door opens, Harry walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other. She trips over herself as she tries to pull her clothes on as soon as possible, but it just makes her lose balance and stumble to the side. His eyes widen and he turns around quickly, muttering a quick fuck to himself.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Are you decent?”

Y/n regains her composure, cheeks burning as she pulls her shorts over her hips. This night could not be going any worse. “Yeah,” she says quietly. She hopes it’s dark enough in the room so that he doesn’t see her flaming cheeks and puffy eyes.

He turns around and hands her the water, which she immediately starts chugging down. She didn’t realize how thirsty she’d been until she’d seen the glass in Harry’s large, tattooed hand.

“Slow down,” he grunts. He pops open the pill bottle and takes out one Advil for her. “Take this.”

She grabs the pill from him obediently and swallows it down with the rest of her water. Then she looks up at him, as if waiting for his next instructions.

“Bed,” he says, nodding his head towards her daisy printed sheets. She goes to climb in but trips over her shoe that she’d messily discarded on the floor. Harry grabs her waist before she can fall to the floor though.

“Jesus,” he murmurs. This was like the seventh time she’s almost fallen over tonight. Is she always this clumsy or was it the drinks?

He grabs her hand and physically guides her into her bed, making sure she lays down properly and lifting the sheets for her to climb under. Grabbing her ankle, he literally has to guide her under the blanket, then lets the duvet fall over her gracefully.

“All good?” he asks, once she’s tucked nicely into her bed, teeth brushed and medicine taken so that she wouldn’t wake up feeling gross tomorrow.

She looks up at him, eyes no longer tear filled but still clearly sad. “Yeah..” she says quietly, however her eyes flicker around her room as if she’s searching for something.

He furrows his brows, and glances in the direction her eyes have landed. A stuffed bunny lies on the floor next to the shoe that she tripped over. He bends over and picks it up, handing it to her questioningly. She takes the bunny and snuggles it into her neck, eyes fluttering as if she can finally relax. “Thanks,” she whispers.

Harry nods curtly and heads for the door. When he turns around one final, y/n is watching him with sleepy eyes. “Bye, Harry,” she squeaks out.

He stares at her for a second. “Bye.” Then he closes the door behind himself.

+++

Y/n wakes up with a pounding headache and an upset tummy.

That was mortifying.

She’s never gonna be able to face Harry again. He was so annoyed with her, she just knows it! The way she dragged him away from that party, cried in his car, and tripped over herself like a stupid goat with clanky legs… oh, he probably thinks she’s the worst!

She wishes she had more control over her emotions, that she could’ve held in the tears until she was alone in her bed… but she just felt so miserable last night. She had wanted to start crying literally when Maddie first yelled at her at the party, but she tried to stay strong. Kept herself together so that she at least didn’t start crying in the middle of a party.

But then… getting in the car with Harry. God. The deafening silence, the irritation radiating off of him… it made her feel terrible. She felt like a nuisance, like an annoyance and a burden.

And she completely humiliated herself in front of Harry! The cute guy that she maybe sort of had started to have a tiny little crush on, simply because he was cute and mildly nice to her and she has a habit of romanticizing small interactions.

There was no chance he’d ever want to be in a room with her after this. He probably wants nothing to do with her.

She stumbles out of her bed and plants her feet on the ground, her head spinning a little bit as she squints her eyes. Her little stuffed bunny has fallen onto the floor again, and she picks it up and places it onto the bed next to herself. She remembers how Harry had picked the bunny up and given it to her before she fell asleep last night, like she was some little kid that he was stuck babysitting.

Ugh. She’s never going to talk to him again.

+++

Harry stands outside of his lecture hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed angrily. His eyebrows are furrowed in classic Grumpy Harry fashion and his lips are pursed in a disgruntled frown.

He’s annoyed.

He stares at y/n, who’s sitting on a bench not too far away. Her tote bag sits on the floor next to her feet and there’s a book in her hand, her finger in between the pages as a temporary bookmark to not lose the page she’s on.

There’s something about her that just… annoys him so much. He can’t quite explain it.

The way her cheeks dimple as she smiles up at the guy talking to her, tucking her hair behind her ear gently when it falls into her face… it makes his jaw clench angrily as he watches her from a distance. She’s so nice. Too nice.

She laughs at something the guy she’s talking to says and it makes his stomach feel sour. He doesn’t like it.

Blake’s hand snaps in front of Harry’s face. “Bro. Stop staring.”

Harry forces his eyes to look away, brows still furrowed grumpily. “Wasn’t staring,” he mumbles, pushing himself off the wall and going into the lecture hall.

“You were,” he responds, following closely behind. “She’s really nice… I dunno why you hate her.”

“Who says I hate her?” Harry scoffs. “I never talk to her.” Especially as of late, she’s quiet as a mouse around him. He was over at her apartment to pick Blake up the other day and she’d only said a quiet “hi” before scurrying back into her room, like a scared little bunny in the presence of a snake or something.

“Well… I mean, you could be nicer.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

Blake hesitates. “Like… I dunno. Maddie says you made her cry.”

“Huh?” He thinks back to that night… “How was that my fault?” All he’d done was driven her home and tucked her into bed? She just started crying on her own!

“She’s just kind of sensitive,” says Blake. “I know you probably weren’t trying to mean, but you’re definitely not sunshine and rainbows. You’re scary, did y’know that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Everyone seems to have this preconceived notion that Harry's this huge dick who never smiles… and though it’s true that he rarely smiles in the presence of strangers, he’s not an asshole! He just doesn’t feel like wasting his energy in pretending to like people he doesn’t actually like. Or smile when it’s much more comfortable to furrow his brows and pout grumpily.

And he finds that usually his grumpy demeanor works in his favor – people stay out of his way, and he gets to avoid the headache that comes with interacting with people. But now this girl… this sunshine girl who always has her nose in a little book and always says please and thank you and is nice to everyone and stumbles over herself like a little puppy who's learning how to walk… she’s gone on and made him feel bad about it.

How annoying is that? To have the nicest person on the planet think you’re scary?

“I wasn’t trying to make her cry,” he mutters, irritated. “I didn’t even say anything to her.”

“Well maybe that’s the problem. Like… just try. I think you’ll like her.”

He doesn’t think so. She’s too nice. They probably wouldn’t get along.

+++

There are three things y/n does a lot.

The first is studying. Her grades come first, always. She’ll be at the library for hours at a time, snuggled up in a booth with an iced coffee and her color coded notes, studying until she can barely keep her eyes open. It’s unhealthy, and she really should take breaks more often… but she just gets really nervous about her grades!

She’s used to being at the top of her class, and has always been a straight A student. But recently, she’s been struggling. She’s doing fine in her chemistry class, and absolutely thriving in biology. But calculus… calculus is her worst enemy.

The second thing she does a lot is reading. She’s been a bookworm for as long as she can remember. Her most frequent genre is romance (obviously!), but she’ll dabble a little bit in the popular fantasy series, maybe pick up a thriller every once in a while. And if she’s feeling sophisticated, she’ll try to read one of the classics… something philosophical, like Camus, or maybe something a little heavier, like War and Peace. But those situations are rare. She prefers her little world of romance.

The third thing that y/n does a lot… is cry.

She’ll cry if she watches a sad movie, she’ll cry over a sad book. She cried when Finnick died in The Hunger Games, and she cried when she finished Of Mice and Men. She cries every single time she watches Pride and Prejudice (2005), sobs her eyes out when Mr. Darcy says, “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love- I love- I love you.”

She cries if someone yells at her, and she cries if she thinks someone doesn’t like her. She cries almost every time she’s drunk (example: when Harry drove her home), and she cries in the middle of the night when she’s feeling homesick. She cries for no reason when she’s getting close to her period… and sometimes, she cries because she’s just lonely.

Now, you might be thinking… y/n sounds super annoying. But please don’t think that! That would also probably make her cry.

She’s just a tad bit sensitive! She has so many emotions in her little heart, and she’s trying so hard to be responsible and manage life as a young adult but at the end of the day she’s just a girl!!! She’s just a girl, and she’s tired and stressed out and lonely and touch deprived, and sometimes she has a hard time keeping everything together so she just… cries.

If she could control it, she would! Do you really think she wants to be crying in the library? Of course, not! It’s embarrassing, and she’s trying really hard to keep her sniffles quiet and to suck the tears back into her eyeballs… but when she’s sad, she can’t stop the tears.

So now she’s crying in the library. And it’s all because of Issac Newton.

Why did he have to invent calculus? Like, what was even the point? Why did she, as a girl studying ecology, have to take this stupid class?

She buries her face in her arms, the tears unstoppable at this point, and just hopes that anyone walking past will think she’s napping and not crying her eyes out.

She’d studied really hard for that last midterm. Like– she’d literally been in the library for a week straight, just doing calculus problems over and over again. She went to office hours to get help on all the questions she was stuck on, and was watching the Organic Chemistry Tutor’s videos religiously. She did so much math that she was literally having dreams about doing calculus.

And yet, even with all of her studying, she still managed to fail the midterm. Like… she seriously failed it. As in, if she doesn’t get an A on the final, she will literally have to retake the class.

She’s so sad. She’s never gotten a grade this low, ever in her life. And she’d tried so hard!!! The morning of the midterm, she’d actually felt confident! She thought she had it in the bag!

She was so, so wrong.

She feels stupid – not just because she failed the midterm, but because she’s literally having a breakdown about it in the library.

This is stupid. Everything is stupid. School is stupid, Issac Newton is stupid, calculus is stupid–

“Y/n?”

Uh oh. She tries to wipe away her tears discreetly, licking her lips and clearing her throat and desperately hoping that it’s not obvious that she’s been crying.

When she lifts her head, she finds Harry standing in front of her. “Why’re you crying?” he asks bluntly, looking down at her with his brows furrowed.

Ok. So it is obvious.

“Um,” she sniffles, “Hi Harry.” She hopes that maybe if she pretends like everything is fine, then he won’t pry any further.

It doesn’t work.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again. There’s not much compassion or comfort in his voice. Same old grumpy Harry, so blank and impassive.

She shrugs her shoulders, feeling small and embarrassed. “I– it’s silly,” she stammers, looking down at her fingers.

Harry doesn’t say anything, staring at her and waiting for her to continue.

She swallows thickly. “I failed my midterm,” she whispers, her voice catching as a new lump grows in her throat.

“How bad?”

One lone tear falls down her face as she shakes her head disappointedly, which she wipes away quickly. “Really bad,” she whimpers. Her cheeks burn hot as she realizes that she can’t hold back the tears any longer. She quickly averts her eyes from him, staring into her lap and hoping that he can’t see her face.

This is the second time he’s seen her cry, which is two times more than she would like. He probably thinks she’s some silly, over emotional girl… probably thinks she’s so annoying. She just wants to curl up in a ball, hide in a dark hole and cry by herself. She can’t handle Harry’s judgment on top of her shitty midterm grade.

He stands there silently for a moment. Her lower lip has pouted out cutely and he can hear her sniffling quietly. “Was it math?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she grumbles sadly. Stupid math.

He hums. After another tense moment he asks, “Do you want help?”

“Help with what?” She stares down at her fingers, her tone dejected. The happy glimmer that usually sparkles in her eye is gone.

“With math,” he clarifies. “I can help you.”

She looks up at him curiously, still pouting. “You’d help me with math?”

He nods, pulling out the chair next to her. “Let me see your midterm,” he says, nodding his head towards the packet of math problems she’d just been sobbing over. Embarrassingly, the front page is stained with a few tears, but she hands it over nonetheless.

He scans over the first page quickly, reading the question and seeing how she answered it. “Do you know why you got this one wrong?”

She sniffles and shrugs. She hadn’t even tried to look over the questions, too mentally exhausted to even try and understand what mistakes she’d made.

“Look. You tried to cancel out the tan3x, which would make sense in any other case… but since it’s to the power of 4 you could really easily have used integration by parts.”

“Wish I knew that before I took the fucking midterm,” she huffs.

“Hey,” he tsks. “Learn from your mistakes so that you don’t make them again. You need to know this stuff to do integral tests later.”

She shakes her head. “I tried so hard, Harry,” she barely whispers, her voice exhausted. “Like I studied so much, and I really really tried to make it all make sense. But it’s just so hard for me.” She sniffles and wipes away more tears, taking a shaky breath and looking away from Harry.

She doesn’t want to try anymore. She just wants to give up.

He purses his lips, brows furrowed. There’s something about seeing y/n upset that just feels so wrong. She usually brings so much… light into a room. Seeing her cry makes it seem like the entire universe has gotten a little sadder.

“You’ve got the right idea when you’re solving these…” he tries to comfort her (though he’s never really been good at comforting people), “It’s just little things that you’re doing wrong. And it’s probably because you’ve got a shit professor who just has you copy down problems.”

“That’s literally all we do!” she whines, not even caring if she sounds like a baby. “He does the problems so fast and then I have to go home and try and figure out how he did it all by myself!” She sniffles and puts her head in her hands, more tears dropping from her eyelashes. She’s exhausted, her head starting to hurt as she exhales a shuddery breath.

He lets her cry a little bit. “Listen,” he says gently, turning to face her. The normal furrow in his brow is gone, his gaze a little bit softer. “Next time you come over with Maddie, bring your notes and we can go over them together, okay?”

She sniffles. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Like actually?”

“Yes,” he says again exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He stands up from the table and puts her midterm back down in front of her. “Lighten up, sunshine. One bad score is not the end of the world.”

She feels a bit silly now that Harry’s witnessed her having another breakdown in the library. But, despite how little he said… he actually helped her calm down. This was not the end of the world.

“Okay,” she whispers, “thanks, Harry.”

He nods and walks away.

Maybe he doesn’t hate her, she thinks to herself.

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“I’m going out,” Maddie says as she walks into the kitchen, discarding her half full coffee mug on the counter as she grabs her car keys from the hook in front of the door.

“Your mug!” y/n tuts like a mother. Maddie rolls her eyes as she pours the last of her coffee down the sink and puts the mug in the dishwasher. Y/n ignores the dramatic eye roll, knowing that Maddie’s just playing around, and asks, “Where are you going?”

“Over to Blake’s,” she responds with a wink. She’s been telling y/n about how she’s been waiting for Blake to text her all week because she doesn’t want to be the one texting first all the time… weird situation-ship stuff that y/n’s never experienced before. Seems like he finally texted her, with how excited Maddie is to be going over.

Just as Maddie is about to step out the door, y/n remembers Harry’s offer. He’d been serious, right? He hadn’t just said that because she was crying… right? She really hopes not, because she really could use his help. She’d been up for hours last night, trying to do the homework, but ultimately giving up because she got too frustrated with herself. Maybe… maybe he’d be able to help her?

“Wait!” y/n calls out, “Um… can I come with you?”

Maddie raises an eyebrow, “Why do you want to come over to Blake’s apartment?”

Y/n turns a bit shy, “Harry… he’s, um, helping me with math.”

“Harry?” Maddie’s eyes glimmer curiously. “He’s literally such a dick. He’s helping you?”

“He’s not that bad…” y/n mumbles, remembering the ounce of kindness he’d shown to her in the library the other day. He’s just a little bit… reserved, she’s started to realize.

“Please. He literally never smiles. I dunno how you got him to talk to you, he always ignores me when I’m over.”

(Honestly, she doesn’t blame Harry for not talking to Maddie… she sometimes ignores Maddie in her own apartment too…)

“You have two minutes to meet me in the car or I’m leaving without you!”

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With her schoolbag in hand, y/n taps lightly on Harry’s door. Blake had told her to just go in, but she feels like that’s rude, so she stands in front of his door nervously and waits patiently for him to open.

“What?” he grunts, opening his bedroom door. “Oh.” The furrow in his brow softens the slightest bit when he sees it’s y/n. He’d thought it was Blake bugging him about something. Y/n is a much… nicer surprise.

“Hi,” she says, chewing on the inside of her lip nervously. “I was wondering if… um, you could help me out with my calc stuff?”

He stares at her for a second, then says, “yeah.”

He opens the door wider and she follows him in. His room is messy, but not gross. The bed is unmade, three half full water bottles on his nightstand, and there’s a pair of sweatpants on the floor… but at least it doesn’t stink!

His computer screen is paused mid-game, and she realizes that he’d still been holding his controller when he’d opened up the door for her. He throws a jacket that had been thrown on the back of his chair onto the bed, and motions for her to sit. Then he pulls up another chair that was sitting in the corner of his room to sit next to her.

“Let’s see it,” he says, shutting down his computer.

“So…” she takes her laptop out of her bag, setting it down on his desk and turning it on so that she can open up her homework assignment. While it loads, she unlocks her ipad to the scratch work she’d done last night. “I was trying to do the homework last night, and I think I’m supposed to be doing integration by parts but honestly I’m not even sure how to do that… so I’m kind of lost.”

Harry leans over her ipad and looks at the work she’d done. It’s… wrong.

“Can I see your notes for integration by parts?” He asks, trying to figure out how she ended up with 1 as her answer when it should be a much larger, much more complicated mix of trig and integrals. She scrolls up until she lands on a page titled Chapter 7, and points to the second example on the problem. Her notes are cute, written in pink with girlish, bubbly handwriting. However, it’s clear that she’d been struggling to keep up with the lecture, some of her work completely scribbled out and replaced with messy numbers and formulas. Next to one of the big portions of scribbled out math, she's written “WHAT???” along with a sad face doodled underneath it.

Clearly she’s a bit confused.

“Okay…” he scrolls down to a new page in her digital notebook and copies down the example problem that had confused her. “Let me show you how you do integration by parts first, and then we’ll look at the homework problem, okay?”

“M’kay,” she hums compliantly, crossing her legs and hiding her hands in her sleeves. She feels a bit… nervous. She doesn’t want Harry to think she’s stupid. But she’d rather have her ego a little bruised than fail the next midterm too.

“So… you do integration by parts when you can’t just do normal integration… usually if there’s e^x in there or a natural log then you know that you have to do integration by parts.”

She nods, following along quietly.

“In this one… you have x times e^x dx… you have to break it up into two parts, U and dV. And then you take the derivative of U and find the integral of dV. And you plug that into the formula. Do you know the formula?”

She blinks at him. “Um…” she shuffles through her notes and finds it. “It’s this.”

“Good… so what you do is you assign x to either U or dV and then e^x(dx) to the other… and then you find dU and V based off of that. Should we make x be U or dV?”

She purses her lips, “Make x=U?”

“Yes…” he nods. “Do you know why?”

She shrugs. “I guessed.”

His lip quirks up in the first smile y/n’s ever seen from him, a slight dimple popping up in his cheek. “S’cos we have to either find the derivative of U, or find the integral of dV. It’s way easier to use the derivative of x, cause it’s just one. If we made x equal to dV… then we’d add a fraction and a power of two to our equation and it’ll just make things ugly.”

“Oh.” She stares at his hands as he writes down what he just said in math terms, scribbling in his boyish handwriting that U=x and dU=1. “Okay.”

“So if U=x, then dV is equal to….”

“e^x?” she answers.

“Good,” he says gently. “And what is V?”

She stays silent for a moment, searching the paper as if it’ll give her an answer. He senses her confusion and helps her out, saying, “IF V is the integral of dV, and dV is e^x…”

“Well Isn’t the integral of e^x still e^x?” Her voice is unconfident, looking up at Harry with wide, round eyes.

“You’re right,” he says encouragingly, a soft smile on his face. “Stop doubting yourself so much.”

A reciprocating smile spreads on her face, feeling a little more confident with Harry’s praise.

“All you do now is put your numbers into the formula. Can you do it?”

He hands the pen over to her, their fingers brushing. Her hair falls in front of her face as she leans over the page to write down her answer, and Harry watches softly as she tucks it back behind her ear. He notices how long and delicate her eyelashes are as he stares at her side profile.

“Is that right?” she asks quietly, trying hard to be confident but still so nervous that she’s done it wrong.

He tears his eyes away from her face. “Almost,” he says, leaning forward. Their arms brush against each other, the space that they initially had set between their chairs having shrunk as they worked on the problem together. She can feel his breath as he quietly murmurs next to her ear, “You just need to add +C at the end.”

She furrows her eyebrows and turns her head towards him, and feels her heart stutter as she realizes how close their faces actually are. “What does the +C mean?”

“It’s just like… it’s supposed to represent any constants that we couldn’t find. Because when you take the derivative of a constant it just ends up being zero, so when you’re given an integral and doing the anti-differential process… you don’t know if there was actually a constant there or what it was. So the +C is just representing any constant value that could’ve been in the answer, even though you don’t know what the number is.”

She blinks at him. “Um… okay. I’ll just pretend like that made sense.”

He chuckles, the first time she’s probably ever heard him laugh. “It’s honestly not that important to get it. Just remember to add +C every time you take an integral.”

“Got it…” she says, adding the +C.

“Think you can do the next one on your own?”

+++

“Harry,” y/n pouts. “It says I’m wrong but I dunno why.”

He pauses his game and slides out of his seat, going over to y/n. She’d relocated to his bed after they did a couple more problems together and felt confident enough to do the rest by herself. His chest brushing against her back softly as he leans over her shoulder, going over her work. “What’s the integral of sin(x)?”

“Cos(x),” she says confidently.

“Not quite…”

She sits there for a second, brows furrowed. “Oh!” she adds a negative in front of the cos(x).

“There you go,” he grins down at her.

She lays down on his bed, her hair splaying out behind her as she throws her ipad on his bed, relieved. “Harry. You’re a genius.”

He laughs, a quiet huff of air that passes out of his nose with an amused smile on his face. “So it makes sense?”

“I think you should be teaching our class. You’re so good. Thank you for helping me.”

He hums, giving her a satisfied smirk, and goes back to his game while she finishes her homework. It's a strange setup, sitting in his bed and doing her homework while he plays, but she doesn’t mind it.

In fact, it’s kind of nice.

Harry’s kind of nice.

She kind of likes Harry.

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hope u guys loved it!!!!!! part 2 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (july 29) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!

sunshine - part 2 (already posted on patreon!) : In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #grumpyrry #grumpy harry #mean harry

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strawbeelemonade · 11 months

Text

ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS: Hobart Brown

i don't know much about Hobbie, just what i've seen of him in the trailer. i think he's fun! :D this was made before the movie's come out by the way, so we're going off the barebones research ive done on the wiki and my silly brain impulses.

🕷- If Hobart has a crush on you, you will probably not know about it.

🕷- But there will be signs.

🕷- He doesn’t project a lot of his feelings on the surface. He keeps his cool in most cases. But you WILL get little smiles and hums occasionally.

🕷- When you mention you liked one of his guitar picks, he’ll give it to you.

🕷- He’s not afraid of eye contact, especially with you.

🕷- While he randomly practices he might catch you watching him in awe, and when your eyes meet he won’t look away.

🕷- He starts playing faster.

🕷- He’ll greet you first out of anyone in a group every time. Even if he has to walk passed someone else to say hi.

🕷- He seeks you out first and gives you a little “hey.”

🕷- If he’s sat and you come over he’ll pat the spot next to him.

🕷- “C’mere.”

🕷- Is comfortable sitting in complete silence.

🕷- If you you don’t have any spider powers and you guys have to run he will grab you.

🕷- No questions asked. YOINK.

🕷- His outfits are full of sharp edges and spikes, so he’s mindful. But there’s a sweet spot tucked right at his side with a space between his collar and jaw for your head to rest.

🕷- He likes it. Keep your head there.

🕷- He’s always coloured his nails in with sharpie, but If your lucky he might even let you do it.

🕷- If you have nail polish on hand he’ll let you paint his nails instead, which he ends up preferring the look of and might make the switch.

🕷- Polish is way messier, though. So he was hoping you’d do it whenever he sees you.

🕷- He’ll do yours. Give him your hand.

🕷- No matter how tall you are, Hobart will almost certainly be taller.

🕷- while holding a conversation he’ll get closer to you then he would with other people.

🕷- He’ll greet you by locking your fingers with his in a high five format… if that makes sense

🕷- His hands are huge, and unusually warm. You tell him it’s nice.

🕷- His reaction time is crazy, if a projectile is headed your way, and he can stop it? Best believe he’s gonna catch that shit. And chances are he’ll be close enough to you to just stick his arm in front of your face and stop it.

🕷- He will opt to stay close to you.

🕷- If you give him any band pins or patches he will put that on the front of his jacket. If there’s no room he’ll make some.

🕷- He has an affect on the emotional environment in a room.

🕷- If someone tries to intimidate or square up to him chances are they are gonna look pretty stupid. He’s just unbothered.

🕷- If someone tries to bother you he’ll let his presence be all the message they need to get lost. He won’t budge, no matter what. He’ll look out for you, Dw.

🕷- He will stand behind you and just watch them with this foul, unimpressed look on his face.

🕷- Canonically Hobart is super politically active, so his moral compass is strong. he stands up for what’s right and defends what he believes in. If he defends you, it will mean a lot.

🕷- If you’re anxious, scared or stressed you can hang out with him for maybe like 5 minutes and you’ll immediately feel better. He likes that you come to him for things like that.

🕷- You make him relax easily. You’ll have no idea, but you have a huge affect on him.

🕷- I can imagine he writes music in his free time, he might play a song or two for you if your interested…

🕷- He’ll get a little shy, so make sure to tell him how cool you think it is!!

🕷- You make him go shy more than you realise.

🕷- In his universe Hobart has canonically experienced homelessness, so basic amenities that you might take for granted mean a lot to him. He’ll share what he has with you, no matter how small of a thing it is.

🕷- If you packed a little lunch or grabbed a snack from somewhere and share some with him then he will smile a bit.

#across the spiderverse #spider man #spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse #spider punk #hobie brown #hobart brown #romantic

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jils-things · 1 month

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I would never fall in love again until I found her

I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"

I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her

I found you

[3.25.23]

ouueeehh we're back to my corny love letters like last time 💜 again absolutely NO pressure reading these, because it WILL get lengthy 💜 this also serves as a personal love letter that i can archive!

ahh, steven st.one. a wild card in my f/o list. i never thought i'd find myself to like him... i've always tried my best to avoid the pretty boy design after i've gotten older which is why i was oddly in denial during my early steven days hehe... the earliest memory i have of him is just me battling him in my ruby emulator back in the 4th grade - but i don't think i actually remembered him too well, i only thought he looked like a silly anime version of the classical composer be.ethoven and tbh, i still like to think he does look like him in the rse style lolll 💜

for the whole, actual story - it was just last year - i was reading the r/s arc, of course. it was one of those days in school where i had nothing much to do and snuck my phone to read manga to pass some time. at some point, my classmate joined to read with me - it was at this moment where steven debuts properly and it caught my classmate by Surprise. she thought he looked very handsome! to which i teased her... strangely enough, this exchange impacted me? maybe it's because someone acknowledged what i was doing and even bothered to briefly read along with me - so in a way steven kinda bookmarked that memory.

so after that exchange, i just kept on reading. everytime he had something to say, i couldn't help but just stare at his face? he looked nice, i guess? he's also very gentle and polite... i kept this thought of mine for quite sometime until i was discussing the manga arc with my p.okespe mutual and he mentioned him. i somewhat confessed he looked nice and that was the biggest mistake i've ever done because what my friend did after was absolutely blow me with art after art of the pretty rock collector and i was STRUGGLING. it ultimately came down to this one cute panel in the o.ras chapter where he was blushing and I wasn't the same person since then 🚶🚶🚶and funnily enough, i told myself I wasn't going to fall for anyone because of the manga and whoopedoo p.okespe!steven my beloved the greatest man ever. i mean i love the game counterpart as well, they're nearly identical - it's just the manga that totally swept me... sighhhh

steven is such a nice character to begin with, he's honestly a very humble and nice champion. he's not showy about his identity and would rather be alone by himself to indulge in what he wants. he is willing to give up a very respectable position in the po.kemon league just to pursue his interests and with that i see a man not after power and fame but a man who just wants to find joy in what he does even if it demotes him. on top of that, he's just a sweet gentleman. he was raised well of course, and you can see it clearly in his acts in the story. i love him very much for that and who wouldn't want those traits?

i was really absolutely embarrassed to be all over this guy at first - it took a whole month for me to actually share to my blog about how i liked steven and took awhile to adjust to that fact that i opened up about it 😭 but the community was very kind and supportive about the pairing and if i'm being honest, i think stevaide made a super lasting impact on my blog recently and it's really so comforting to picture them as a young loving married couple with ruby. it made me feel unashamed with what i can do with my silly ships. i'm still very glad for the endless support for steven and jaide.

soo, yes. happy memoryshipping 💜💚 thank you for making my times of struggle more bearable if not perfect and thank you to everyone who enjoys this ship even if it was just a little bit :]

credits to @/cafekitsune <3

#~ art #pokemon selfship #selfship #selfshipping #selfship community #safeshipping #there it is guys... the day #so glad i was able to make this before i got busy and i really havent been drawing anything fun so!!! ahhh #this is currently my wallpaper since rendering it and i LOVE it to bits #also yay full reveal of that chibi doodle hehehehhe #iim so happy yippepeieeyeyeee #♥️ memoryshipping

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hiskillingjar · 2 months

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hi there! love your blog! have you ever shared voice hcs for strade, ren, and law? hope youre having a good day! <3

AAA THANK YOU AND YEAH DOG I WAS MANIFESTING THIS ASK!!!!!!!!!!

ren 🦊

i think he has a young-sounding voice, like even as he gets older his voice doesn't really give away how old he is

raspy? kind of like he's always talking out the back of his throat

A LOT of vocal fry. idk how to explain it

he'll, like, use a lot of, um, filler words? and, ya know, sort of just speak in a way that, like, really makes you question if he knows what the fuck he's saying.

the only point of comparison i can think of is ira glass, though his tone is a little more fox leaning

real talk, he sounds kind of faggy lol

he's kind of self-conscious of his voice, so when he does become fox, he makes a lot of changes to the way he speaks so that it's more practiced and considered. obviously slips up when he has the chance to though <3

law 🥀

they got the playstation cut scene autism. the twin peaks autism.

like, they've got the low, quiet, kind of monotone autism drawl

very breathy sounding, which goes with slow quiet of it

they have to...um, really annunciate to put...tone and meaning behind their voiceee, otherwise they kind of just...sound...a little detached...a little spacy...yeah...okay...

they sound like they're not listening to anything anyone is saying, and the fact they look so out of it most of the time (even without the drugs, their gaze is super spacy) doesn't help either

like almost the gentle, offputting kind of quiet of paul dano in prisoners but. lower.

they um and er a lot too, like, um, yeah...okay, uh, for sure...

there's a lot of power behind their voice though. like, they make themselves seem gentler and smaller most of the time, but in the case of being angry, it can really climb up in volume and intention

so you better listen to them when they're being nice and quiet...

strade 🔨

hehehehehe i've thought about this one sooooo much

obviously has a noticeable german accent, albeit not a super thick one. it's there.

doesn't have the best grip on english slang and does the bilingual thing where he'll be like "ah...what is the word for-" when he's having a scatterbrained moment

doesn't um or er that much though, he'll confidently say the wrong thing and get corrected on it (or not)

he'll talk in a way that is really really direct, but, ahm, kind of lilt towards the end, making everything sound like a question? and then, ah, spreche-SPEAK very knowingly, right?

a pretty medium-range voice, not super low or that demanding of attention in his regular tone. people want to listen to him because he's a friendly guy!

kind of like the original singer of oomph! hehehehe, pretty regular tone, definitely a fast talker too

laughs a lot <3 has a nice warm chuckle when he's in polite company, and he's like the best person to laugh at bad jokes

very good at keeping up appearances <333 he's a manipulative faker who looks and sounds totally normal in his rich neighborhood

and obviously can push his voice down to a growled threat or a shout, which makes his accent sound a lot thicker <3

#i LOVED ANSWERING THIS HEHEHE #strade btd #ren hana #ren btd #lawrence oleander #lawrence btd #qs #see my vision boy.#see it.#headcanons

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chvoswxtch · 8 months

Note

I’m so excited to be joining the court eras tour! Congrats on the achievement! Can I request speak now about Frank and Matty competing for the attention of the same girl? Wether it means she ends with one of them, none, or both *wink wink*

you know, my philosophy in life is why have one when you can have both?

side note: i'm the worst person to go shopping with bc if you ask me if you should get something, i'm gonna tell you to treat yourself and if you ask me to help you decide between two things, i'm gonna tell you to get them both

with that being said, let's fuck date them both <3

electric touch (frank's version ft. matt)

firstly, frank and matt are very different when it comes to dating

matt flirts with anything that has a heartbeat. he's a charming, smooth talking fucker, and he knows exactly what he's doing. he doesn't even need to use his heightened senses to be able to tell that his dazzling grin and dimples coupled with his alluring deep voice makes a person's blood rush to their cheeks and to other places in their body

frank on the other hand is a little more shy. if you remember, maria approached him first when they met, and that actually seems to be a recurring theme for frank (karen makes the first move, sarah is the one that kisses him, beth is the one that invites him home). essentially, frank is a consent king who lets his partner come to him. not that he doesn't flirt, I think he does when he feels more comfortable, but it doesn't come second nature to him like it does to matt

secondly, I think their different personalities also shine in terms of the kind of date they take you on

matt's go to date idea that we've seen tends to be a romantic dinner somewhere. despite him being a huge slut flirt, i do think he's a hopeless romantic at heart. matt could ask you to dinner as easily as he could ask you what time it was, but I think he'd do his best to make sure to pick a spot that he knew you would like based off your preference in food, meet you at the restaurant looking devastatingly handsome, and then take you on a nice little stroll to keep the evening going

frank on the other hand seems a little more old school and traditional. despite where he's taking you, he's definitely picking you up at your door and bringing flowers. I could see him being a dinner and movie guy, but I also think frank would wanna get to really know you, and it's kinda hard to have a conversation with someone while watching a movie. so I personally think he would take you to do something fun (we know he loved to take his family to the park with the carousel), something like bowling, mini golf, an arcade (where he'd totally show off and win you a prize), an aquarium, etc. somewhere where the two of you could do something fun together and then get a bite after

NOW, we know frank and matt are super competitive with one another, but if they were trying to win over the same person? absolute chaos

let's just say for fun y'all all go on a first date at the same time (bc I personally think it would be hilarious)

you let frank pick the activity y'all do together, and he purposefully sends matt on a wild goose chase telling him to meet at the mini golf place at 7pm, but, he doesn't specify which one. so a pissed off matt finally tracks you and frank down around 7:30 (by the scent of frank's cologne that he would know anywhere) and frank fires the first shot

"'bout time you showed up, red. don't you know it ain't polite to make a lady wait?"

"well I would have been on time if you had specified where this place was. do you know how many mini golf places there are in this city?"

"my bad, thought you'd be pickin' her up at her door with flowers too. guess that was just me though."

frank has the biggest grin on his face, meanwhile matt's cheeks are burning red, both from annoyance and from sprinting to catch up

but frank's victory is short lived when matt beckons you over with a charming smirk and an innocent request for help

"sweetheart, you mind helping me hit the ball? I don't exactly know where i'm aiming."

much to frank's dismay, he has to watch you press yourself up against matt's back, holding onto his hands that were around the golf club, and giggle instructions into his ear as you help him on where to aim

"aw now that's horseshit. you don't need her goddamn help, and you know it."

"i am blind, frank."

matt wears a cocky smirk with every ball you help him hit, but the more you start cheering for frank with how many perfect shots he's hitting (if there's one thing frank is good at it's aim), matt starts showing out too, and eventually the two men forget you're even playing with them bc they're competing against each other so hard

before they break out into a brawl in the sand pit, the three of you make your way to dinner, each of them insisting on holding one of your hands (which they refuse to let go of) so everyone walking in your direction has to go completely around the three of you

matt chose an incredibly romantic italian spot, and needless to say, the host was very confused seeing the three of you together (especially with the disgruntled looks on both of their faces bc they wanted you all to themselves)

not even five minutes pass before they're back at each other's throats

it starts with matt recommending a red wine to you and pronouncing the name of it wrong, to which frank sassily corrects him, and matt scowls across the table behind his red glasses

"what, you suddenly speak italian, castle?"

"i am italian, you dipshit."

matt, completely stunned by this new information, completely misses frank's insult and just stares blankly at him in surprise with raised brows

"what? since when?"

"the hell you mean since when? since I was born. ain't you s'posed to be some kinda genius or somethin'? I really gotta explain simple shit to you-"

"castle isn't italian-"

"no, but castiglione is. it got shortened to castle when my parents moved here from sicily-"

"and how the hell would I know that-"

"well maybe if you shut the fuck up every once in awhile-"

and this is where you have to intervene and redirect the conversation bc while them fighting over you was exciting and truthfully hot at first, it seems like they've spent a better half the night fighting each other, and that simply isn't acceptable

so you warn them that if they don't start playing nice, you'll leave them on the date alone together and go get your own dessert somewhere else

needless to say they suddenly start showing model behavior and redirect their attention where it should've been all along: on you

and i'll let your imagination run wild with how well that date goes and if you invite them both up for a drink or two ;)

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soc69 · 2 months

Text

Erasermic family general hcs:

- when shinsou has bad dreams or intrusive memories of his time in the system it’s hizashi he goes to, not shouta, because even though hizashi was only in the system a short while he understands what Hitoshi went through and how it feels to be abandoned and not know what to do with all the emotions that comes with it.

- eri used to be terrified on present mic. Not of Yamada hizashi, the sweet guy who signs as he talks and makes her chamomile tea when she can’t sleep, but of present mic who looks like a huge flightless bird and squaks weird slang all the time. The fear was fixed when she saw hizashi undergoing the transformation process one day.

- hizashi and shinsou have developed their own ‘sign slang’. As the ones who’ve used it most throughout their lives and with someone new to try it out with they started making their own signs for internet catch phrases and swear words and it pisses Aizawa off so much that he’s left out of the loop. This, in turn, only further encourages shinsou and hizashi to the point where half the time they’re not even making sense to each other but just gesturing randomly whenever shoutas around to piss him off.

- I’m pretty sure it’s canon that hizashi has, like, no nostrils (or maybe really really small ones) on account of his quirk as stoping airflow through your nose means you can make louder vocalisations, so, although everyone thinks mic would be the only one who can cook between him and Aizawa, the two of the basically function as two halves of the same idiot in the kitchen. Since your sense of smell makes up about 70% of your taste buds, despite hizashi enjoying cooking and be able to follow a recipe, without shouta there to taste test, hizashi’s cooking becomes absolutely repulsive and he has no idea. Shouta on the other hand, is perfectly capable of cooking but just refuses to learn because he thinks the system they have worked out now is perfectly functional.

- the first time hizashi is left to cook for Hitoshi alone during one of his early visits, he suffers such a culinary disaster since shouta wasn’t there to supervise. Mic makes sure to tell Hitoshi to tell him if it’s nice or not but the kid is far too polite for that and struggles through 2/3 of the meal that is somehow both sour and salty while also being so fucking spicy that Hitoshi thinks his ears are bleeding before Aizawa comes home and picks something off hizashis plate and immediately tells mic it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever made and throwing out the entire meal. Hitoshi is absolutely flabbergasted, tears streaming, nose running, throat retching, as yamada and Aizawa both ask him why the fuck he didn’t say something.

- mic likes pretty much every type of music and has sampled practically every genre ever made and since eri has never had the chance to develop her own taste, he takes her on the axact same journey of self discovery. Eri ends up very similar to mic in that she likes a lot of different things but her absolute favourite genre ends up being ‘kawaii metal’ which mic and Hitoshi both find hilarious and let her play it all the time which Aizawa (who only ever listens to brown noise) absolutely fucking hates.

- Aizawa can’t drive. Like at all. He never learnt, never even took any lessons, never had any interest in it. Mic is older than him by a few months and got his lisence super quick and after that Aizawa decided he would never need to learn because he would always have hizashi to chauffeur him around.

- mic doesn’t get angry much so everyone thinks shouta is the scary one but the more you get to know Aizawa the more of a softy he becomes. Mic, on the other hand, is fucking terrifying when you piss him off. Hitoshi and eri have only ever seen it once when some bitch from Hitoshi’s old home ran into them and got mouthy. He’s the quiet anger type that just just radiates insane unpresidented rage and Aizawa finds it incredibly sexy.

- eri is the kind of kid who collects bugs from the garden and spends hours watching them crawl over her hands in absolute amazement because she’s never seen so many of them before. As we all know, mic is terrified of bugs, but eri did not know this until she invited all her little creepy crawly friends into the house for move night. Cue them all cuddled up on the couch one day when mic feels something crawling over his legs. At first he thinks it’s Aizawa as his legs draped over his lap and tells him to cut it out and Aizawa is like ‘huh?’, looks down, and sees the fattest, juiciest cockroach ever on yamadas leg. Aizawa, who also doesn’t really like bugs all that much, is like “zashi, do not fucking move” and eri catches on, turns around and is like “oh! Patrick is here” which makes mic finally notice and release the most deafening scream ever and jumps five ft into the air which knocks a sleeping Hitoshi to the floor who wakes up face to face with a massive fucking spider and joins yamada in the screaming match while Aizawa is using his quirk on mic so none of them go deaf while climbing the furniture to avoid all the bugs and screaming for everyone to calm down in an uncharacteristically high voice while eri just sits on the floor amongst the chaos like “I just wanted you guys to meet my friends”. The house gets fumigated after that.

#eri mha #mha #my hero academia #mha headcanons #erasermic family #erasermic #eraserhead #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shinsou hitoshi #bnha #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero acedamia #erasermic hcs #erasermic family hcs

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alastrrz · 3 months

Note

qksnksdjjsks your yumi and tanner meeting the reader was so cute i eated it up !!! (specifically yumi bc i am a yumi girl in a isaac/nick world)

can you do an imagine where the reader is invited to stay at the house with them and the boy makes a move? perhaps SLOWBURN??? they both want each other but are really nervous? perhaps… a pinky hold? cliche yawn and arm around the shoulder? perhaps…. A CONFESSION?!?!

it can be with yumi or tanner… or both!!! OR THE WHOLE TGC!!! but that’s a lot of work. you can do whatever you want!

p.s., ur holding up the tgc x reader tag SINGLEHANDEDLY!!! you make amazing work!!! <3

- ur #1 fan

i actually wrote something like this a while back based around yumi!! i pulled it up from google docs :))

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。 just kiss already ; blake

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre; tooth rotting fluff

type; imagine

read below!

You'd been friends with The Group Chat boys for a while, so they'd decided to invite you over to their place. Nick had a few ideas for some new vlogs, while the rest of them just finally wanted to meet you in person!

After a good few hours that seemed like forever, your flight finally landed in Austin. Larry and Yumi were there to pick you up! Larry got out the car, waving you down like a NPC. "Y/n! Over here!" You sighed, laughing a bit as you sighed. This would be an interesting weekend. "I'm coming!" You yelled over, dragging your luggage behind you. Larry picked up your luggage and shoved it in the trunk of Yumi's car. "Let's go! Let's go, let's go!" Larry spoke loudly as you got in the backseat.

Yumi shook his head, looking aggravated as usual. "God, could you not, I have a headache. Also, hi, Y/n." Yumi spoke a bit quieter than Larry. "Hi, Blake." You smiled politely, pulling out your phone to distract yourself on the way to their place.

The car ride was relatively quiet, not an awkward quiet, more like a comforting one. Larry surprisingly didn't say much, you assumed it'd get more chaotic once you got to the house. After about twenty minutes, you pulled up to the official group chat house. "We're here! Y/n, get your shit and lets go!" Larry rapidly opened the car door and ran inside.

Yumi groaned, "... What a little shit." He got out the car after he turned it off, opening the trunk and grabbing your suitcase. "I got it, don't worry." He gave you a soft smile, which you honestly.. didn't expect from Yumi. You nodded, "Thank you!" ... Was his face red? No, there's no way. You're going crazy.

You walked into their house, and it was actually relatively clean. That's new, considering the pictures and videos you've seen. "Wow, for a guy house, it's pretty clean." You hadn't seen Isaac standing in the hallway, "Well, hello to you too!" You jumped, "Jesus Christ! Hi Isaac!" He smiled, coming towards you, then embracing you in a hug. "It's so good to finally meet you! Like, in person." You nodded, "Yeah! It's super good to be here!" He patted your head, "Flight wasn't too bad, was it?" You shook your head, "Not at all! Just felt like forever." Yumi put your bag down by his room's door, which.. was a bit weird. You just brushed it off as a nice gesture, maybe they didn't have a guest room.

Yumi looked a bit peeved for some reason, so you'd just decided to leave him alone for now. "So, where's Nick?" Isaac nodded, "Oh, he's out at the store grabbing some things, I'm supposed to go meet him.. uhh.. Now, actually. So I do have to go! Obviously we have all weekend to hang out, so.. Larry! You're coming with!" He groaned, "WHAT?! Make Blake go! I don't wanna!" Isaac looked over at Yumi, who still looked a bit annoyed. "... Nah, you're coming with me. Go get in the car." Larry groaned, "Fiiiiine."

Soon enough, Isaac and Larry were out the door and gone. Yumi sat on the couch with a bag of chips, "So, you and Isaac got a bit close, huh?" You turned to him, deciding to sit by him. Not too close, but.. closer than you probably should've. "What, the hug? I mean, I didn't make anything more out of it than just a friendly hug." Yumi nodded, "Mm. Any shows you like? We can watch something while they fuck around at the store." You shrugged, "Dunno. I don't really watch TV anymore. I'm too busy." He nodded, understanding the struggle, since he was busy working on his new album as of recently. "Uhh.. We can just put on Stranger Things or something. I don't know shit about TV anymore either." You gave a soft chuckle at that, and you could've sworn you saw his face go red again.

You nodded, "Sure! I've heard good things about it," You paused, stretching out your legs a bit, "How's your new album coming? I know you're supposed to release it soon." You could've sworn you saw his eyes light up, "Oh! Uh, yeah. It's supposed to release tomorrow, actually." You nodded, "Oh! Sick, I didn't know it was so soon." He laughed a little, "Well, if you'd look at my Twitter, you would know." He teased. "Oh, whatever! How many songs are on it? Can I get some special Yumi insight?" He shrugged, "Huh.. I mean, why not? There's 8 songs on it." You leaned back, putting your hand on the side of you. "Ooh, okay. I can't wait."

Yumi looked towards you as Isaac and Nick walked through the door. "Oh! I thought you guys would take longer! Also, hi Nick!" Nick smiled, but squinted at Yumi. "... Hey, Y/n! Blake hasn't been too much of a," He coughed, "Flirt, has he?" The word 'flirt' was barely intelligible. "Sorry?" Yumi turned a bright red, causing him to whip his head away from you so you didn't see. Nick waved his hand at you, "Sorry, allergies. He hasn't been too much of an asshole, has he?" You shook your head, "Not at all! He's been pretty nice, actually!" Nick smirked, "I wonder why."

After the other boys had retreated to their rooms, Yumi scooted closer to you. You'd thought nothing of it, you didn't want to make it weird. "So, where am I sleeping? I'm fine with sleeping on the couch if there's no guest room." Yumi shrugged, "Uhm.. Hm. I mean, I have an air mattress in my bedroom you could bring out here and use." He suggested, looking towards you as he rested his arm on the back of the couch. His arm was almost wrapped around you; you couldn't help but feel like a lovesick teenager. "Y— Uh, Yeah! I'm fine with that." You wished you could just stay in his room with the air mattress. No, there's no way. You don't like Yumi. Yumi, the lovable asshole who yells, the silly guy who lets his friends give him botched haircuts, the really, really attractive guy that— oh no.

Yumi noticed your face go red, "Are you hot or something? I can turn down the AC—" Isaac popped out of his bedroom, sneaking up behind the couch. "Oh my God, KISS ALREADY!" You both whipped your heads around to see Isaac's tall frame looming over both of you. "OH MY GOD ISAAC!" Yumi yelled, swatting him away from the couch, which made him retreat back to his room with his hands up in defense.

"... What's up with him?" You looked Yumi in the eyes. His face was as red as a cherry. Did he like you as well? Are you actually not crazy? Oh my God. Yumi sighed, "Look, he's teasing because he knows something, uh," He paused, taking a deep breath. "I do like you, Y/n. Like, a stupid amount. I feel like a stupid teenager with a high school crush, but it's so much more than that," You paused him by putting your hand on his shoulder.

"Blake. I like you too."

#alex's writing #anon.txt #tgc x reader #tgc #tgc x you #tgc x y/n #the group chat x y/n #the group chat #the group chat x you #the group chat x reader #yumi #yumi x you #yumi x y/n #yumi x reader #yumimain x you #yumimain #yumimain x y/n #yumimain x reader

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cult-of-the-eye · 6 months

Text

Mag 81 A Guest for Mr Spider

FUCK FORMER HEAD ARCHIVIST

Wait I need to check the timelines - this was 2 days after leitner's death

New spooky music???

My man is so fucking dramatic I love him so much "grand of sand behind my eye" love the way he speaks

Yeah FUCK JURGEN LEITNER

Omg the greying hair is canon??

Child in the 90s makes him at most 27 GOD DAMN. I was imagining like mid 30s...can you imagine a fucking 27 yr old using words like "ilk" when talking to you

Oh shit he's an orphan poor guy

Yeah ok a lot of his personality seems to make sense if you realise he was raised by his grandma

You know those memes that are like people raised by their grandparents are exceptionally polite but in a brisk way, talk fancy and are super posh? Yeah that's him.

Getting such neurodivergent vibes

Yeah he sounds like a main character from the start Jesus Christ he's such a kid who got traumatised and then grows up to be a horror protagonist vibes

My First Leitner lol like kids had to be introduced to them at a young age like those my first toys

He's so funny I can just imagine him as an 8 yr old getting super like affronted at this like how dare my grandma think I am of subpar intelligence he's such a little bitch from the start

"The eponymous Mr spider" even talking about his childhood trauma he's busting out the vocabulary

Fuck that story actually kinda rattled me I had my hand over my mouth in shock for most of it

I think it was the bit where the horsefly brought his son and they were both crying that got me, I could definitely imagine it scaring an 8 yr old

The way it drags out as well, with the pages of the same scene it really heightens the suspense

Is his childhood bully someone we should keep track of?? Love how he says Michael probably cause he sees him as a bully lol

It's interesting how despite him bullying him (quite badly seeing as though he beat him up) he's still like yeah but he saved my life and that means he deserves to be remembered

My bro didn't save your life on purpose, he was just trying to make it worse and happened to come to a terrible fate cause of that

I guess underneath it all he was still a kid who watched someone die, knowing they'd get eaten by a fucking spider, he still held him in some regard

The way he specified the guy was his bully even after he was being eaten though lol

He was desperate to get the book back? That's a leitner thing I guess, the book makes you want to keep it so it can finish whatever it wanted to do to you

On my relisten (which I will do once I've finished the series I'm sure of it), I'll have to look out for any reaction of leitners name

I wonder why Jon didn't react more to Carlos vittery's statement, like it must've terrified him? I saw a post a while back explaining Jon's thoughts and IT WAS GENIUS it was like of course he doesn't react, he must be terrified that someone knew about his experience and somehow did this to mess with him or it was a joke and he can't let anyone know that the Head Archivist is not Good at This ugh it's so good I'll tag it if I can find it

AHHHHH HE REGRETS DISMISSING THE OTHER STATEMENTS AHHHHHH

HE FINALLY ADMITS THAT HE NEEDS HELP WE LOVE THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT YES YOU FUCKING DO BITCH.

yeah at least he's right about Elias killing leitner

GEORGIE THE EX GIRLFIEND

ITS SO WEIRD TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY NICE TO SOMEONE WOW HIS VOICE CHANGES SLIGHTLY AS WELL HES LESS ACADEMIC

THE ADMIRAL

Awwww he's so cute with georgie

GHOST PODCAST GHOST PODCAST

THE WHAT THE GHOST T SHIRT IS CANON???? AHH THATS SO CUTE

Can he not go back to his own flat?? Did he bring all his clothes to the archive and then subsequently leave them there? Does he even have a flat??

God Georgie is so nice I would kill for her

It's so funny that an apparent supernatural cynic dated a ghost podcaster

WOW SEASON 3 OFF TO AN AMAZING START I CANT WAIT TO KEEP LISTENING IM GONNA TELL MY THERAPIST ABOUT THIS TOMORROW!!!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jarchivist #a guest for mr spider #the web #tma season 3 #georgie barker #tma georgie #jurgen leitner #what the ghost #the admiral

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lavenderbexlatte · 1 year

Text

day 30 - gangbang

nct 2.9k words female reader insert Reader x NCT 127 NSFW

🖤 warnings: group sex, penetrative sex (f receiving), mentions of oral sex (m receiving), scene negotiation, all of nct 127 are present and participating but jaehyun/taeyong/yuta focus 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

The invitation is polite, organized, and completely off the rails.

You knew that becoming friends with a group of guys like them would end up weird, but this is a whole new level of weird.

They're a club baseball team that plays intramural games out of your university city. You'd met the first baseman, Mark, in your senior seminar class. He's inexplicably the same major as you, and he's a delight. Goofy, and a little strange, but quick and smart and fun. A good study buddy.

Then you'd met his friends.

Nine guys, including Mark, who just kind of hang out at whoever's home is available and eat and drink everything in sight. You'd met them at Mark's place, at what was introduced to you as a dinner party but ended up being a kickback, with beer and karaoke and a soccer game on TV.

Two of them are Mark's roommates, fellow students at your university who share an apartment with him. These two, Hyuck and Jungwoo, are the ones you see most often.

There's Taeil, long since graduated and moved on to an office job, who shares a little one-story house with graduate students Taeyong and Doyoung.

And there's Johnny and Jaehyun and Yuta, all freelancers in a very messy condo on the nice side of town.

They were all at this kickback, and they were an awful lot to experience all at once.

But now, a year and change later, they've become reliable friends. None as close or constant in your life as Mark, who's a true homie, but they're sweet guys, good to catch a movie or grab something to eat. And you go to their baseball games when you can.

They're casual friends, which is why this invitation is so off the rails.

You're at Mark's place for the evening, ready to watch a horror movie with Mark and Yuta and Jaehyun. Pizza and screaming. A good time all around.

Until they sit you down, and they ask. Jaehyun asks, specifically.

"Would you wanna come over to Taeil's with us on Saturday?"

You glance between Yuta and Jaehyun, their serious faces. Mark's head is already bowed, staring at the floor, ears flaming.

"Yeah," you say, "I guess. For what?"

You're thinking another dumb dinner party or something.

But that is not what Yuta says. "We're having an orgy."

You choke on nothing. The two guys watch as you cough and try desperately to wrap your mind around that sentence, the nonchalant way it was said. Mark still looks mortified.

"You're what?" you sputter.

"Having an orgy. We wanted to know if you were interested," says Jaehyun.

"Having an - an-"

"Orgy," Yuta repeats, impatient. "You know. Sex. With a group."

"With who?"

"Just us. The bros," says Jaehyun.

Yuta nods. "The nine of us. You'd make ten."

You say it slowly, to make sure you've got it right. "You want me...to come over...and have sex with you guys. Like. All of you, together."

"I mean, kinda. Basically. No guarantee who's with who, but-"

"Are you serious?"

"If you don't wanna come, that's fine," says Jaehyun.

"Yeah, we'll just do it anyway," Yuta agrees. "But you're welcome to come."

An orgy. With the nine of them.

Mark still hasn't said anything. He looks like he wishes the floor would swallow him up, just sitting there curled in his chair.

Out of all of them, you're closest to Mark, so you ask him cautiously, "Are...are you okay with this?"

"Me?" Mark jerks his head up. "Yeah, man. It's just super weird to ask someone new in. Like, Hyuck nearly moved out when we-"

"We do it all the time, for real. We just thought you would enjoy yourself if you came with," Yuta interrupts.

You're looking among the three of them, like someone's going to start laughing and say sike, just kidding, no orgy. But they all look calm, serious.

"It's fun," Mark admits. "Super fun."

"This is real," you say.

"Yeah, it's real," says Jaehyun.

"You really want me to do this."

Jaehyun nods. "Yeah, if you want."

"No pressure," says Yuta. "Seriously. If you say no, we'll forget about it. We're still friends, everything is normal. But if you're down..."

All nine of them.

They're attractive, you can admit that. Different looks, different vibes, but all beautiful. All single, all more or less responsible, all kind and trustworthy as far as you've seen. And you trust that they really wouldn't be angry if you turn them down. Nothing about the situation, except that it's new and overwhelming, is bad or dangerous.

Despite the surprise of even being asked, it's tempting. Incredibly tempting.

Jaehyun leans back in his seat. "You don't have to decide right now, you have a couple days to-"

"Okay."

"Yo, really?" Mark asks, wide-eyed.

"Yeah," you say, "Yeah, I'll go. I'm in."

"Sick," Yuta grins. "We'll text you the time and stuff."

That's it. That's all. They drop it after that, and you do watch the horror movie. Eat pizza, scream at the television, and laugh at Jaehyun pretending he's not scared.

But the whole time, you're wondering if you just hallucinated the entire conversation. You agreed to go to an orgy with your friend's baseball team.

Not a hallucination.

Not by a long shot, because the next day, Yuta texts you with the location (Taeil's place, obviously) time (8pm, which is kind of late but okay), and instructions to not wear anything you care about.

This is really happening, then.

You're not nervous, and you're not regretting it. No, rather, you're insatiably curious.

One thorough shower and a comfy outfit later, you're knocking on the door of Taeil's demure little house. You've always liked this place, with its neat front garden that Taeyong keeps carefully weeded and watered, and the comfortably-worn paint job and creaky eaves.

Hard to believe there's going to be major debauchery inside.

Taeil himself lets you in.

"Oh, hey." He waves, but it's lost in the oversized sleeves of his pullover.

"Hi."

"We're still waiting for a few guys, c'mon in."

Taeil wanders back into his home, shuffling comfortably across the wood floor, leaving you to take a few deep breaths and spend a little too long organizing your shoes by the door. You do go inside, though, and you find the guys in the living room.

"You showed up," says Taeyong, sounding surprised.

He's mostly upside-down on the sofa, squished into Jungwoo's side and holding the remote control loosely in one dangling hand. They're watching some cartoon, looking far too relaxed for a couple of guys about to have an orgy.

Doyoung is there, too, though he's standing at the kitchen counter organizing what looks like an entire year's worth of water bottles.

And sitting on the back of the sofa, wearing an unzipped hoodie with nothing underneath, is Yuta, who smiles and beckons you over with deceptively cute open arms. He's never been a particularly huggy person, in your experience, not for anyone but Mark. But you walk over, and he drapes his arm around your shoulders, tugging you against his warm side.

"You didn't chicken out," Yuta says.

"Why does no one have any faith in me?" you ask him, in mock annoyance.

Yuta shrugs. "We're pretty scary, I wouldn't blame you."

"Too curious."

He squeezes you, and lets you go, and you go to sit on Taeyong's other side.

Donghyuck and Mark arrive together, after another episode and a half of the cartoon that Taeyong insists stay on the TV. And it doesn't take long after for Johnny and Jaehyun to traipse in, unfashionably late and carting a big bag of takeout food.

They're all here.

Once everyone is gathered, sitting and leaning on the furniture, talking brightly over the noise of the television, mind-blowingly normal, Taeyong rights himself and stands up.

"Okay! Ground rules," he says.

"Don't need 'em," Johnny dismisses.

"Yes, we do. Especially with a new person here," Taeyong replies. "Let's go over them"

"Who put you in charge?" Hyuck complains.

Taeyong blinks at him, nonplussed. "You did. All of you, when you voted me team captain."

You wonder how they even have time for sex with all of this going on.

But Taeyong has his phone out and is scrolling carefully. Do they...write down their orgy rules? Do they have enough orgies that they need written rules?

"The basics. Ask first, don't be an asshole, don't bite people without permission, that means you, Yuta," Taeyong lists, "Don't choke anyone even 'as a joke,' okay, Hyuck?"

"That's discrimination," Yuta says.

Donghyuck whines, "It was Mark, how am I supposed to be held responsible for-"

"No unsolicited backshots, absolutely no filming or pictures, no bullying of any kind," Taeyong reads, and he glances up, face unamused. "Doyoung."

"When-" Doyoung sputters, 'When would I ever-"

"And lastly, whatever happens here, stays here. No grudges, no weirdness, no ruining friendships. If you catch feelings because of the sex, you talk it out like a man," Taeyong says, with finality.

"Does that sound okay?" Jaehyun asks you, calm and placid as per usual, even as the others squabble over the callouts.

You nod. "Really good, actually."

It's all so casual. So no-nonsense, really, even with the personal shots called.

"It's Doyoung's turn for beverages and snacks, so blame him if anything sucks," Taeyong says. "Other than that, we're good to go."

Doyoung scoffs. "Excuse me-"

He doesn't finish his complaint, because he's hit in the face with and summarily buried under Yuta's discarded hoodie, and with that, it begins.

For a while, you just watch.

You'd wondered what it would be like. Your first group sex experience. It's...not all that strange, actually.

As if they've just been counting the seconds until they're allowed to do this, Jungwoo practically tackles Yuta over the back of the sofa, and they disappear onto the floor on the other side with just Yuta's maniacal delighted laughter to let you know that they're okay.

You kneel up on the sofa cushions to get a look at them, just out of curiosity. There's hands in jeans and Yuta's butterfly tattoo standing out starkly on his hips and God, you didn't know Jungwoo had abs like that-

Better let them be, you think, and you sit back down properly.

In your distraction of approximately eight seconds, Donghyuck has gotten a very apprehensive-looking Doyoung backed against the far wall, with Taeil not far behind.

Johnny is fielding a similar eager approach, as Mark has climbed from his own seat and is leaning deep into Johnny's personal space, their faces inches apart, Jesus-

This is a lot. This is so much.

"They're always just so, so horny," comes Taeyong's voice.

He and Jaehyun have taken up the extra seats on the sofa with you, just watching the chaos the same as you are.

"Think Doie is gonna let that happen?" Jaehyun asks, with a nod over to the corner.

Taeyong snorts. "Looks like it's happening."

"You two don't want to get in there?" you ask.

"Don't you?" Jaehyun counters.

"Thought you could use some semi-normal company, to ease you in," Taeyong says. "Maybe you'd need some time to get comfortable. Not all of us are Jungwoo."

"You'd be damn lucky if you were!" Jungwoo's affronted voice pipes from behind the sofa.

Taeyong nods at you solemnly. "He's got Yuta this time, he's right."

"I'm pretty comfortable," you admit.

"Then d'you wanna make out?" Jaehyun asks.

There's something so intriguing and inherently relaxing about his direct approach. No nonsense, no holding back. He wants it, he's gonna ask for it. You'd be a fool to say no.

"Sure."

So your first orgy experience is a kiss.

A good, slow, deep kiss, complete with Jaehyun's big careful hands holding you steady. You can't pretend you've never thought about kissing Jaehyun before. Of course you have. He's handsome, steadfast, incredibly funny and quick despite his laid-back nature.

It actually starts to feel more like an orgy experience when you feel another hand touch you, tentative, just a poke at your shoulder.

"Can I..." Taeyong starts, licking his lips.

You would trust Taeyong to do quite literally anything, but still, you turn slightly in Jaehyun's grip to tease, "Can you...?"

"I wanna take this off," he says, plucking at your top.

"I would hate to be the first one naked," you say.

"You definitely wouldn't be," Jaehyun points out.

You glance around, and yeah, true. Donghyuck is bare-ass naked, over there, and Johnny's shirt is gone, and you're pretty sure that those are Yuta's jeans hanging off the closed curtains. Well, hey. They've already started.

"Yeah, go ahead," you grin.

So your shirt goes, and then Taeyong's, showing off his lean figure and his little colorful tattoos, and then Jaehyun's just to make things fair.

Kissing Taeyong is just natural at that point, and it's such a starkly difference experience from kissing Jaehyun that your head spins, a little. He's eager where Jaehyun was controlled, easy to accommodate when you press forward, when you readjust.

"I think," Taeyong muses, against your lips, "I think I want to see Jae fuck you, first."

You pull back, grin. "Why him?"

"He invited you, didn't he?"

"Dibs," Jaehyun says.

"And dibs," Taeyong agrees.

"You can't dibs a person," you pout.

"I just did," Jaehyun says. "Why, you don't want me?"

"Maybe I came here just for Mark," you say.

Jaehyun thumbs over his shoulder. "He's busy."

Mark is indeed busy, with Johnny's dick down his throat. Ah, well.

"You can have Mark next," Taeyong grins. "Jaehyun first."

"I want you next," you say, cheeky.

"Fine, you picky bitch. Jaehyun, me, Mark, if you're serious."

You would keep arguing, just to be annoying, if Jaehyun didn't hook his fingers into the waistband of your bottoms and bite down on your throat gently in tandem. No, rather, that makes you gasp into Taeyong's mouth, still so close to yours.

"I thought no biting was a rule!" you complain.

"Oops," Jaehyun grins.

"You broke the rules."

He shrugs. "Punish me, then."

"Later," Taeyong says. "Get going, someone else is gonna want a piece of one of you, soon, and I don't wanna miss this."

Excited, hazy with arousal, and certain that both Taeil and Johnny, from their respective corners and sides, are watching you, time contracts into nothing as you strip, as you climb astride Jaehyun, as you wave off Taeyong's offer of a condom, and you lower yourself onto his waiting - impressive, admittedly very very nice - erection, and settle into place against the cradle of his hips.

Jaehyun's hands are everywhere at once. Your breasts, your hair, your thighs where they fall on either side of his body. The attention is almost overwhelming, and there's a whole other person here, too.

"View good enough?" you ask Taeyong, half-joking.

"Flawless," he answers.

He's right up behind you, still in his loose shorts, his thin chest pressed to your back as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to see even better. After a moment, as you fidget and adjust, Taeyong's hands find your hips and begin to guide you against Jaehyun.

You're not sure when Taeyong took control of the situation, here, but he certainly has it. In a strange kind of way, too. Suggestion and help, more than anything. Emphasis on you, what you're feeling, what would be best for you, as he touches you lightly, mouths over your throat gently.

With Taeyong's help, it's not long before your orgasm looms. His careful fingers over your clit, and Jaehyun rocking shallowly upward into you.

"Gonna cum," you warn.

"I've been holding it back," Jaehyun replies, "Go ahead."

"Fast," Taeyong teases, reaching around you to tweak Jaehyun's nipple.

"I haven't been with a girl in a while," he defends.

"Forgot how good it feels?" Taeyong grins.

"So good. Like heaven."

They're messing around, but the admission of it seems to push Jaehyun right over the edge, because his hands nudge Taeyong's out of the way so he can pull your hips down to meet his and dig his fingers into your skin hard enough to bruise.

The hot spill of him into you, no condom, is better than you'd imagined, and when you glance up to see that Johnny and Taeil are still watching, and now Yuta and Jungwoo, too, Taeyong's fingers over your clit are too much.

You cum with a strangled sound that isn't quite anyone's name.

And when you've finished, when the fog is clearing from your head, Jaehyun eases you off him, ever so gently.

"Thanks," he says, smacking a loud kiss on your forehead. "Shit. That was good."

He's so strange.

"I'm glad," you reply, amused.

Taeyong chooses that moment to pounce, nudging you onto your back and crawling between your thighs, his shorts gone, now.

"I left a mess for you," Jaehyun says. "Just how you like it."

Hands on your shoulders make you jump, and you look up to find Yuta leaning over you, white-blonde hair falling into his face.

"Lemme in," he says.

You sit up enough for Yuta to scoot behind you, and now you're propped against his chest, with Taeyong ready and waiting between your legs. Sandwiched again between two men, but different ones, this time.

Now, truly, it feels like an orgy.

"I'm next," Yuta informs you.

"Wait your damn turn," Taeyong says.

He's dragging himself through your messy folds, picking up the obscene mix of your release and Jaehyun's, and you squirm against Yuta in overstimulation as he presses into you.

This is going to be a long, long night.

#kinktober 2022 #kpop kinktober #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #moon taeil smut #lee taeyong smut #johnny suh smut #nakamoto yuta smut #kim doyoung smut #jung jaehyun smut #kim jungwoo smut #mark lee smut #lee donghyuck smut #yikes this could have been so much longer but i had to stop for my health

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Text

Topsy Turvy Days in Octavinelle

Sebek would make a decent butler and this is the hill I will die on 😤

The Sea Witch, and her Spirit of Benevolence.

Trey Clover...

… was tasked with overseeing the Mostro Lounge in Azul and the twins’ absence. He’s the only one with sufficient experience in customer service (no thanks to his family bakery) and dealing with logistics/planning (he’s a vice dorm leader, after all)! Trey wasn’t jazzed about the idea (he’d rather not deal with the lofty expectations if he can help it), but after being hit with the puppy dog eyes and fake tears from Octavinelle, he reluctantly accepted the responsibility.

His fellow vice dorm leader, Jade, is so kind as to give him some friendly pointers before his departure. Trey listens and takes notes as best he can, but he’s slightly unnerved when Jade leans in with a whisper and informs him that it is lounge policy to “kindly remove” the customers that disturb the peace of the eating establishment. “You mean asking problematic people to leave, right?” Trey asks—but all he receives in response is a mysterious smile.

There’s a strangely charged atmosphere in Octavinelle as soon as Trey steps into it. The students present as polite and well-meaning enough, but they’re sizing him up in their minds. They’re all angling to see if he screws up so they can swoop in and usurp that power to get ahead with the real boss when he returns. Trey’s not ignorant of those kinds of thoughts collecting—he’ll just have to prove to them how wrong they are.

He’s sort of a pushover in general (which is precisely why Azul didn’t ask Trey to handle contract negotiations in addition to the lounge); whenever a customer complains, Trey is inclined to offer something as compensation: a percentage off the check, a free dessert, whatever will ease their upset. He isn’t super strict with his workers either; Octavinelle students take breaks liberally, knowing they can cheat the system and take advantage of Trey while he’s here. (That’s the Octavinelle way: opportunism.) “Geez, Trey! You’re way too nice,” Cater groans—though he knows that’s just Trey’s way of resolving issues and keeping their patrons and his workers happy. The happy smiles on the customers are proof of that!

When the rush hours hit, Trey rolls up his sleeves and heads into the kitchen to lend a helping hand. He can follow recipes well enough, but it’s in dessert making where he truly shines. Trey had honed his pastries through years and years of practice, so he’s able to multitask and churn out sweets like it’s nobody’s business! It’s pretty convenient for the lounge too, cuz Trey’s sweets are flying off the menu! (It’s not uncommon to have the desserts sold out midday.)

The complimentary after-meal mints also come with single use floss pick. (Temporary) management’s orders. (“What?” Trey asks when people give him weird looks. “You can’t walk around after eating with food still stuck in your teeth.”) Some customers feel watched by a hawk as they pop the mint and leave the floss pick unused (though Trey never confronts them; he’s not the type of guy to pick a fight).

Push his buttons too much, and his serious side comes out!! Trey doesn’t give off the same “cunning mob boss” vibes as Azul; his energy is more like that of a dad that’s “not mad, just deeply disappointed”. (It’s okay though 😂 Even if Trey himself and a firm, “Sir, this is a McDonalds drive thru the Mostro Lounge,” doesn’t intimidate rude people, a fierce Sebek and a legion of Caters on standby sure will.)

Mild-mannered as Trey is, there are rare instances where his true devious nature shows. When his incredible patience is worn thin, a smirk comes along his face and customers vanish into the VIP room… and leave looking shaken, led out by Trey, looking as polite as he usually does. “Thanks for visiting the Mostro Lounge! We hope to see you again,” he calls after them. (“Eh, what do you think he said to that customer?” the Octavinelle mobs whisper among themselves. “I thought he was a totally nice guy…”)

“Ahahaha... I don’t think I’m at all suited for managing a restaurant. If it’s just grabbing and bagging a pastry or two at the counter, then I’m your guy. You’d be surprised at how much more happens at the lounge. Just the other day, we had a guest I had to seat down and have a one-on-one talk with to avoid a fight from breaking out. I guess this is a glimpse of the hardships Azul, Riddle, and the other dorm leaders have to deal with on a daily basis, huh? I don’t envy them one bit.”

Cater Diamond...

… is stoked to have landed this chance~ Octavinelle, being completely underwater, has so many cool sights for him to post in Magicam!! Just walking in the hallways opens up a vast, colorful expanse of the ocean to him—not to mention the beautiful, glittering jellyfish lights suspended over the lounge, and their classy uniforms! He’ll have to bring a portable charger with him to keep his phone alive for all the exciting pics ✨

He loves trying out his new fit. You’ll find several (and I do mean several) pics on his Magicam account of Cater posing in his Octavinelle suit in various states of put-togetherness and hairstyles. Here’s him in a low ponytail and the suspenders and dress shirt, and this one is with his hair down and his jacket fully buttoned… The scarf is looped around the wait and knotted like a belt here, then slung like a boa in the next. There’s a surprising amount of ways it can be worn, and Cater’s been experimenting with them all?

His unique magic is perfect for working at the lounge, especially when they’re short staffed! With Split Card, a handful of Caters can be running around taking and delivering orders, cleaning up tables, and/or booting out troublemakers. Usually Cater isn’t up for being the party pooper, but between Trey (who’s too forgiving) and Sebek (who’s too unforgiving), Cay-kun’s gotta be the moderator here!!

Cater’s general amicable nature makes him a hit with customers at the front of house and his peers in the break room. He’s observant and approachable, able to start and keep a conversation with most anyone. He has firsthand access to the latest gossip and information because of this direct contact with chatty customers and coworkers—which makes him formidable competition for Jade, Octavinelle’s usual information broker. Good thing Cater’s not too concerned with rivalries~

He’s also good at making recommendations based on individual preferences! Cater practically has the menu memorized front to back (on account of having visited the lounge so often himself to try their seasonal specialties), so he might as well utilize his knowledge to help customers decide what they want.

He’s chock-full of ideas for deals, themed menus, promotions, and limited time events to draw in customers! (If they want a music night, he could always call his Pop Music Club buddies in to do a gig!) Truthfully, Cater pitches these concepts because he personally knows what’s popular and this what will net him the most likes, but he frames it as “I think the customer base would like this 🎵” Some would call it clever manipulation and redirection, but Cater prefers to think of it as “mutually beneficial” for everyone, himself included!

Cater ups the Mostro Lounge’s social media game! Whenever Trey creates a new dessert, in swoops Cater to take an aesthetically pleasing, expertly shot photo to upload onto their Magicam page! Within an hour, thousands of likes have accumulated and there’s another influx of people clamoring for a taste of that beautiful item. (“Azul should hire you as his social media manager,” Trey jokes, handing over another batch of macarons to be served.)

Sometimes when Cater’s alone in the restroom washing up before service, he glimpses his reflection in the mirror and contemplates his circumstances. Here he is, helping the business be successful and mingling with so many people… and yet some small, fragmented part of him still fears it could all vanish in the blink of an eye. Cater sighs, replaces his hat, assumes a smile, and returns his nose to the grindstone—and the eternal song and dance he puts on for the public eye. “Showtime.”

“You know what? Working part-time at the Mostro Lounge isn’t half bad! Well… not with Trey in charge, anyway! Azul’d probably run Cay-kun ragged! But all that stuff aside, Octavinelle’s peak photogenic! It’s a whole new world down here, full of stuff and treasures you’d never find on land. Maybe it’s true what I’ve heard: that life is just better under the sea!”

Sebek Zigvolt...

… had a hard time detaching from Diasomnia without making a fuss. He knows that Octavinelle will help him improve his skills as an attendant to better serve the young master, but it doesn’t make him any less emotional for his departure!! In the typical Sebek fashion though, he deflects!! No, Sebek insists, he’s just mad that Silver gets to spend time with Lilia, and that Malleus will be unsupervised in their absence! (They all gathered to see him off at the Mirror Chamber like parents helping an anxious kid to his first day of school.)

It was a hassle getting him fitted in his new uniform! Not a single student in Octavinelle comes close to how buff Sebek is, so the largest size of their uniform was still super tight on him and struggled to contain him in its seams. (Think of that one meme where a character’s chest is so broad/big that it causes the buttons to pop off, that’s basically Sebek.) Once the clothes are on properly, they had a whole other issue of trying to clamp down the hat over his wild hair—but hey, they were eventually successful!

Sebek gets on everyone’s bad side right off the bat, referring to his fellow Octavinelle students by a slew of unflattering adjectives. He even managed to piss Cater off by calling him “shallow”… which earns Sebek a lot of passive aggressive glares from his coworkers throughout his shifts (well, not that he cares). “You’re not doing yourself any favors, Sebek. It’s no good to make enemies with the people you’re working with,” Trey gently chides him—but though he vehemently disagrees, Sebek can’t being himself to snap back like he typically would.

IT’S JUST SO WEIRD FOR HIM TO BE AROUND TREY AT ALL. Trey reminds Sebek sooo much of his father that he doesn’t know how exactly to act with him. (There’s a certain degree of respect that must be conferred to one’s elders, even if they are a human and kind of weak and inscrutable…) For the most part, Sebek feels compelled to follow Trey’s orders, even if he doesn’t fully back him as an individual. Every time he has to actually talk to Trey though, hems about 50% more tsundere than usual to get his points across.

Sebek’s honestly less like a waiter and more like a bouncer. Built like a semi-truck with a scowl that strikes fear into those faint of heart and a voice that booms like thunder, his mere presence usually wards off any potential signs of trouble. (When it’s his turn to be at the front of house, you can hear him greeting customers all the way in the consultation rooms. If you judge by volume alone, most aren’t sure if he’s angry or if he’s happy.)

Unfortunately, his proud and somewhat gruff manner of speaking doesn’t exactly make him a people person, especially not when he marches over to drop a check on the table or to demand what they want when they summon him over. Oh, and if they start getting rude? Sebek’s instinct is to fire back, which only adds more fuel to the fire of the argument.

Where he shines is in technical abilities, far removed from his personality or choice of words. (Sebek can brew a mean cup of tea, which pairs well with all the sweets they’re selling!) When he’s commended for doing a good job, his whole face brightens and he gets this huge, dorky smile on his face. If you’re lucky, you may also catch a glimpse of his fangs! (“… How can someone so abrasive also have this surprisingly cute side to him?” the mob students wonder.)

On his breaks, Sebek, thinking the others to be inferior humans, refuses to sit with everyone else. He huddles at a table by his lonesome, shoveling plate after plate of food into his mouth. (It’s convenient to get rid of leftovers by just handing the extra food to Sebek.) One might feel pity for this poor, unfortunate soul—but on the contrary, Sebek feels as though he has a lot of progress to report back to Lilia . _ .

“Hmph, no other dormitory could even hope to come close to the glory and the majesty of Diasomnia!! There was never a doubt in my mind that this is the unquestioning truth!! I will cede that Octavinelle has been useful in some ways. It has provided me with an environment in which I can hone my service skills for the young master. Indeed, THE SERVICE INDUSTRY IS A BATTLEFIELD UNLIKE ANY I’VE TREADED BEFORE…!! Lilia-sama and Malleus-sama will surely be pleased with the results of my training!”

#Trey Clover #Cater Diamond #Sebek Zigvolt #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst anni #twst anniversary #twisted wonderland anni #twisted wonderland anniversary #topsy turvy days #twisted wonderland headcanons #curiouser and curiouser #Azul Ashengrotto #Jade Leech #Lilia Vanrouge #Malleus Draconia #Diasomnia

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stoned-eren · 8 months

Note

Can’t help but think about reader that isn’t interested in Obsessed Eren. She just… doesn’t like him like that, she doesn’t really like him that much as a person. She’s super nice but she doesn’t fuck with him. She also isn’t seeing anyone else and doesn’t plan on it because she’s ✨A holy starseed who is saving herself for her twin flame✨ and refuses to date some loser in college that won’t last a year. And she thinks of Eren in the same way, not only is he not her type physically, emotionally, or mentally. But he just seems lame to her. She’s to legit.

a/n: HELLO, hello! i am so sorry i've been so late with this, but i haven't forgotten you! in fact, i’ve been practicing my writing skills in anticipation for this ask hehe. :p i've been thinking about this since you've sent it, so much appreciated <3 you know i love me some obsessive eren. i hope u enjoy!

content: MDNI, obsessive themes, yandere behavior? (not really), gn! reader, college setting!, alcohol, angst, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, eren is a big softie in this one, mean reader? (kinda/not really) word count: 4.8k (IM SORRY)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

maybe it was just his hair.

or maybe, it was his lazy, glazed appearance.

hell, maybe it was just everything about him.

his personality certainly wasn't obnoxious or anything. he was quiet, seemed to keep to himself, and didn’t really pester you all too much.

but there was something about him that you slightly disliked. you weren’t even sure what it was. maybe it was just the fact that you just couldn’t connect with him- not mentally, not emotionally, not spiritually. you didn’t see much in him.

your eyes flittered over to eren jeager, the man you were just criticizing in your head. he was sitting in his usual spot in the lecture hall, which happened to be right next to your usual spot. leaning over his side of the desk, strands of his messy brown hair slumped down, the rest tied up in a slackly bun. he was wearing a large, baggy hoodie, the same hoodie he always wore, even if it was scorching hot outside. in your eyes, he was just… average. nothing really stood out to you about him; it was if he was like any other guy in your class.

from the corner of his eye, eren noticed your eyes flicker onto his face, and he felt his skin crawl. he hitched his breath, just barely. were you staring at him? eren glanced up from his lecture notes, seemingly not even taking any notes to begin with; a messily drawn sketch of a large dinosaur scribbled on his paper. he tried to hide the drawing as he turned his head to look at you, wondering if you needed something from him.

really though, eren would use any excuse he could just to interact with you.

to put it frankly, eren was desperate for you. at first, eren treated you like he would any other classmate; he ignored you, seemingly too overwhelmed with his life to focus on anybody else. but as the months slipped by, the two of you growing accustomed to sitting next to each other in multiple classes, several days a week, he had gotten to know bits of you. and god, he just adored you.

you were so sweet to him.

eren didn’t know it, but you were sweet to everyone. you were just being polite, after all. even if you disliked eren, just a little bit, you had no reason to be rude to him. so, you smiled at him, giggled with him, and treated him like you would any other acquaintance.

but for eren- fuck, it was so frustrating.

eren was bordering on obsession. he knew that spending almost every day in your presence, you so very close to him, definitely didn’t help ease that compulsion. every time you sat next to him, he was be able to smell hints of you, see the glossiness of your lips, the softness in your eyes.

eren just didn’t know how you felt, though. in his mind, he wanted to convince himself that you liked him back, just too shy to admit it. and eren didn’t know how to admit it either. so, here you two were, in some sort of back-and-forth limbo that left eren pulling out his hair. he had to comfort himself every night while he laid in bed, reassuring himself that you must have some affection, any affection for him. after all, you were just so sweet to him.

eren tried to stop himself. he really did. as if like clockwork, he told himself that he’d be good- he’d be over you. every day, he told himself that. but whenever you’d walk into class, dropping your bag on the floor, and giving him a tired, shy smile- he couldn’t help but imagine waking up to that face; to see you in your unmatched, natural beauty. whenever he thought he could break away from your grasp, you pulled him back in, not even trying.

eren must have imagined you staring at him. when he turned his head to look at you, you were seemingly focused on your lecture notes, diligently scribbling down whatever the professor was saying.

you could feel eren staring at you as you took your notes. it irked you, just a little bit. why did he feel the need to stare at you all the time? you didn’t even understand why he came to class, asking you for homework or lecture notes almost daily. instead of focusing on his studies, he opted to spending his time drawing or going on his phone when he was in class. you glanced at the dinosaur drawing in his notebook. you felt your skin pricking up as his gaze never ceased, watching you from the corner of his eye. just barely.

the professor stopped his lecturing mid-sentence, casually checking his phone. he frowned upon the sight of what you assumed was a notification.

“sorry class,” he says, swiping his phone, walking over to his desk and gathering his supplies. “something just came up, lecture’s over.”

some students immediately get up upon hearing that class is cut short, quickly beelining it to the exit. you’re one of those students, hastily gathering your supplies and stuffing them into your bag, not even looking back at eren as you leave. today had been a particularly bad day for you; too many things going wrong all at once. you didn’t have much energy to deal with eren’s antics.

you confused him so much. you were so sweet and kind. but then there were times where you would treat him like this, not even saying goodbye to him, seemingly just wanting to get away from him. eren just didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand.

he felt a small twinge in his heart as he watched you walk out the door and into the corridor.

- - -

since lecture was cut short, you decided to spend your free time with one of your best friends, sasha. she was laying on a bean bag in your room, flipped upside down as she snacked on potato chips. you had to remind her not to lay like that, since she’s choked several times in the past laying in that exact position, on that exact bean bag.

while sasha’s munching on her chips, her eyes grow bright as she seems to come to a realization.

“oh! there’s a party tonight!” sasha swallowed, crumbs of fried potato falling down her lips as she flipped around, standing up quickly. “you gotta come, you just have to. it’s gonna be hugeeeee.”

you groan, just slightly. parties weren’t really your thing, especially huge ones. you always felt out of place. sasha knew that very well.

“cmon,” sasha whines. “you’re never out of class this early- it could be fun; you could meet somebody.” she says, her voice teasingly playful, raising her eyebrows at you.

“yeah, no, i’m not really into that, the ‘meeting’ someone thing,” you say, giving air quotes around the word ‘meeting’. you knew what sasha meant by that. you thought hard before you spoke. “but i’ll go. for you, sasha.” you clarify, poking your friend on her forehead. she snorts, delighted by your response.

before you know it, you’re at the party, coming up to the house of some stranger; a large, fancy mansion. it’s littered with people, some drunk, some sober, as crowds enter and exit the house. you try to adjust your outfit for some decency, sasha making you wear something you normally wouldn’t say yes to. you’re a little glad you agreed to wear this outfit though, as you soon realize that everyone around you is littered in slightly nicer clothes than you. sasha is grabbing you by your wrist, almost dragging you into the mansion.

you’re already uncomfortable. it’s absolutely packed in here. you could feel the heat from all the bodies in the room, some more sweaty than others as they danced to the blaring music that was playing.

you and sasha walked around for a bit, trying to find anyone you guys recognized. sasha found a group of her friends, people you didn’t really know, and began to socialize with them. you stood a little way away from sasha’s friend group, awkwardly listening to them share inside jokes and tell stories about one another.

after talking with her friends for quite some time, sasha made her way back to you, a couple of her friends still with her. while leaning against a wall, you were scrolling on your phone, nothing to do as you wished you were home right now. you looked up at sasha, seemingly relieved that she was back. but before you could say anything to her, she was already turned around, heading off in the other direction while her friends seemed to drag her away.

“sasha-!“ you have to yell to be heard over the noise.

“let me get us some drinks!” sasha called out to you, curtly turning her head around to look at you. her brunette hair was the only thing you saw as she disappeared into the crowd of people. great. she left, again.

you instinctively held onto yourself, seemingly recognizing no one at this party. as you waited for sasha, it felt like a few minutes passed by. then ten, then twenty. at this point your back was against a wall, just waiting for your friend to come back. eventually, you decided to just text her.

“dude, where are you? “ 8:15 PM

“SASHAAAAA” 8:18 PM

“omg” 8:26 PM

“how could you do this to me :’(“ 8:32 PM

you sighed, stuffing your phone back into your bag and waiting for your friend to respond. you eventually decided to seek out the booze yourself, going into the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of fruity looking punch. after all, if you were going to be at a party, you might as well enjoy it, even if you were alone.

you made your way into the backyard, a huge, luscious space that stretched out to every corner of your peripheral. the backyard was much emptier than the inside of the mansion, small groups of people casually chatting instead of the crowds of people chaotically screaming and bumping into you inside. you sipped on your drink as you sat in one of the fancy, structured chairs in the corner of the backyard, hearing the muffled music play from inside the house. it reverberated the mansion. you let the cool night air hit your skin, just trying to feel any semblance of peace right now, being undeniably very stressed.

- - -

eren wasn’t one for parties. but this night was one of the biggest parties of the year, making it hard to pass up. he figured he could use the escape, doing anything he could to not think of you. eren was in the kitchen of the mansion, taking shots with his friends. he needed to forget you. what better way than to drink his worries away, he figured. just this once.

he took a shot, and another shot, and another shot with his friends, feeling his inhibitions slip away. as his inebriation started to settle in, his mind seemingly ended up wandering back to thoughts of you, a painstakingly common occurrence for him. he felt so lonely in this crowd of people. none of them were like you, none of them could ever be like you. you were so sweet, so gentle and kind to him. he felt his heart surge upon thinking of you; only you.

it was only you.

eren didn’t seem to notice whenever you would return from outside, clamoring your way back into the house for whatever reason. as if the timing was off, his back would be turned to you, busy talking with his friends every time you made your way back into the mansion, pouring yourself cup after cup of the punch. each time you got up to get more punch, you could feel yourself wobble more, struggle more.

the night began to get darker as you sat outside, finally coming to the conclusion that you weren’t getting a response from sasha. you had texted her a few more times, but whenever she got drunk, she seemed to forget that her phone existed. figuring she was with her group of friends, you stood up from the seat you had been cushioned in, ready to go home and prepare yourself for another weekend of studying. you stumbled slightly as you got up, not realizing that drinking four cups of that punch would get you this drunk.

everything was hard to see. you looked at your phone, the letters on your screen practically moving, making it hard to focus and type. you sent a quick text to sasha.

“in ggong jhome! :D” 9:36 PM

it was supposed to read, “i’m going home.” close enough, you figured.

you made your way back into the mansion, stumbling through crowds of people, using some random strangers as leverage so you wouldn’t fall. you finally got to the front door, which was cracked wide open, letting you slip out the mansion and into the night.

the walk wasn’t too far, so you figured you could make it on your own.

when you walked into the kitchen, drunkenly stumbling towards the exit, eren’s eyes glowed. you walked by eren, seemingly not even noticing him. it was too hard to pay attention to him though, there were crowds of people, and you were very, very drunk. but eren noticed you. he wondered how long you had been here, what you were even doing here to begin with. were you talking to anybody? flirting with them? the very idea made eren panic. if he knew that you’d be here, he would have spent more time looking for you. he couldn’t look away from you, his mind racing as he was enamored by your effortless charm.

eren noticed that you were wearing a rather cute outfit, one that accentuated the flawless features of your body. it was something he didn’t really see you in too often, if, at all. he also noticed the way you stumbled, losing your footing on seemingly nothing as you bumped into strangers, giggling apologizes at them. god, you looked drunk.

now on his 6th shot, eren couldn’t even think properly. he figured he could say hi to you- that wouldn’t be weird, right? even if it was just a three second conversation, it mattered to eren. every second, every moment with you counted. upon seeing you start to leave, eren made his way out the door, curtly saying goodbye to his friends, just trying to catch up with you. you were just a little faster than him though. as he finally made it to the front door of the mansion, he saw you disappear off into the night on foot, no friends around you.

wait- were you walking home by yourself? in your drunken state?

no- eren wouldn’t let you. who knows what could happen to you? eren wouldn’t take that risk, not even slightly. you needed him right now. briskly, he began to walk in the direction he saw you last. he was rather drunk himself, so he struggled to walk as he attempted to catch up with you, not even seeing where he was stepping. but his strides were long, his footsteps fast; so, he caught up to you in a short amount of time.

you were walking down an isolated street; you hadn’t seen a single car come by so far. the road was long, stretching out farther than you could see, but it led directly to your college. you now realized that the walk was going to be more time consuming than you expected. as you looked up into the sky, there were large, cheap street lights towering above you, lined up haphazardly along the sidewalk. you were trying your best to walk in a straight line, just in case a car did come by- you had to appear as sober as you could. but you couldn’t, you couldn’t walk normally at all.

your ears perked up at the sound of your name being called. your head spun around as you turned to find the source of the noise. the world was spinning, so you couldn’t really see who it was from afar. you should have been more alarmed, but in your drunken state, all you did was watch as the figure approached you, body tensed up. eventually, your eyes relaxed slightly when you realized who it was, eren lightly jogging up to you, trying to catch up to you. you didn’t recognize him without his hoodie and sweats on, wearing a nice flannel and jeans instead. as he walked up to you, the golden light from the street lamp highlighted his features.

“hey. i saw you at the party- you’re walking home by yourself this late at night?” eren said to you, his voice full of concern and dripping with intoxication. he breathed softly, as if he was out of breath. you paid him no mind.

“yes, i am. my house is like, right here, so…” you trailed off, slurring your words.

you were obviously lying. there was nothing around you and eren but roads and a sidewalk, no homes anywhere near the path you were taking. were you sure you were going the right way?

you fully expected eren to part ways with you now, not knowing what he could possibly need from you. you turned back around, and continued to march home, almost tripping over your own feet.

“wait-“ eren stammered, his pace picking up with yours. “are you sure that’s safe?”

you glanced at him silently, but kept walking.

he followed you, continuing. “it’s just- well, there’s a lot of petty crime around here, you should be careful. i-if you want, maybe i can-”

why was he doubting you? did he think you weren’t able to make it home? in your drunken state, you let out some of your annoyance with him, some of the bottled-up feelings you had for him spilling out.

“eren-“ you breath, cutting the boy off and stopping in your tracks. “i’m fine- you really think i can’t walk home?”

“it’s not that, i just- i don’t think you should be alone right now,“ he began, stammering as he spoke.

you huff, clearly exasperated. “and why’s that? i can take care of myself.”

eren’s eyes widened. he felt himself panic, just slightly, unable to understand why it was a bad thing for him to take care of you. “i… well i just…” he murmured, quieting his voice as he seemed to be unable to speak.

you were getting annoyed.

“you just what?” you finally snap, “how did you even know i was walking? were you following me?” you say in an accusatory tone.

eren feels his anxiety surge. what were you insinuating about him? did you really think he was a bad guy? but… would it be bad if he did follow you?

he goes quiet, knowing that anything he says won’t satisfy you. you keep going.

“it’s creepy,” you say, your eyes shooting daggers at him. eren feels his heart drop upon hearing you say those words. it echoes in his brain.

him, creepy?

“i… i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bother you.” eren said, his eyes darting away from you. he wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong, but he was irritating you, he was scaring you. and he didn’t like it. the two of you stood on the sidewalk, the buzz of the street light filling the harsh silence in the air as it illuminated above you. eren’s expression saddened, like a hurt puppy, as he stared at the floor, not able to meet your gaze.

you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in your heart, regretting snapping at the man. after all, was he really doing anything wrong? you quickly realized you were just letting out pent up frustrations at him. you knew eren, you knew him well. and you knew he wasn’t like that. you bit your lip, thinking of a way you could fix this.

“n-no, wait. eren, i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice genuine and remorseful. eren looks up at you, his expression so saddened, so lonely, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him, pitying him. “that wasn’t right of me to say.”

“oh. it’s okay,” eren says. he gives you a weak smile, one mixed with hurt and anguish.

you look at him for a second, the dim yellow light from the street lamp mixing with eren’s eyes. he looked so tired, you noted. you could see the melancholy on his face as he looked into your eyes, searching for something. unsure of what he could want, you slowly turned around, continuing your walk down the road.

eren followed you, his steps a few feet away from yours. whenever you wondered if he left, you could hear his shoes clack against the sidewalk, indicating that he was still following you. you decided not to say anything, not wanting to hurt him for inconceivably no reason again.

eren was lost in thought. you had never gotten that mad at him before, let alone said anything so harsh to him before. what did he do? was it wrong to want to protect you? didn’t you want him to protect you?

he just wanted you to be alright. he would never forgive himself if he knew something happened to you, knowing he could have prevented it. he swallowed his thoughts, his intoxication still very apparent in his body.

he walked, you not once looking back to see if he was still there, still tripping on your own feet. without realizing it, his ideal world of you started to crumble. there were cracks in the foundation; seeds of uncertainty planted inside of eren’s head.

you were doing it again, treating him as if he was a pesky little bug that wouldn’t leave you alone. a wave of sorrow hit him, his life feeling aimless at the mere thought of you not interested in him, or even worse, hating him. what would he do at that point? what if that came true?

eren was getting so, so tired. he just wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he needed you in his life. he felt incomplete without you, as if he was a puzzle missing a piece. there was an emptiness in his heart, one that he knew could be so lovingly and tenderly mended by you.

he needed to tell you. he needed to do it, he had to do it, before these feelings consumed his very essence.

neither one of you spoke to each other as you made the long journey home, both of you seemingly lost in thought. you stopped when you got the complex of your dormitories, deep into the late hours of the night. your feet were sore, walking for what seemed like miles. you turned to eren, not wanting him to go any further.

“see? told you i’d make it here no problem,” you voice slightly slurs as you tell eren, as if trying to prove something to him. you sobered up from your walk, just barely. you could walk in a somewhat straight line now, at least.

he gave you a small smile. he seemed so distracted. as you said goodnight to him, turning around to disappear into the night, eren wrapped his fingers around your arm, gently stopping you in your tracks.

“wait…” eren said, the sadness leaving his face; a soft expression replacing his pain. he focused his eyes on you, his blue-green irises shining bright. “i’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

curiously, you looked at him as he let go of your arm. you stared at him with beautiful eyes as eren hesitated, unsure of how he could phrase his next sentence.

he just went for it.

he breathed. “i like you. like, a lot.”

you just stared at him.

why didn’t you say anything?

he stammered his next sentence, unable to read any indication of feeling in your face as you blankly gazed at him. “i was wondering if you would want to go out sometime-“

“oh eren, i’m sorry. i can’t.” you flatly reply, making eren’s heart twinge.

he felt like his world was falling apart as you turned him down, casting him aside like he was just some inconvenience in your life. you could see just how utterly crushed he was, biting his lip harshly, as if punishing himself for even trying to ask you out. his eyes darkened, the brightness fading from them as he stood there, frozen in place, his heart pounding as you rejected him.

you felt yourself having to explain, trying to let him down softly. “i just- i’m saving myself for the right person. i don’t want a relationship that’s not going to last-“

“we could last,” he commented, as he looked at you with pure pain. “i know we could.” his voice was barely a whisper.

“e-eren, i…” you stammer, a little flustered.

eren says your name, looking into your eyes as if he’s pleading with you, so desperately wanting a chance with you.

“i’d give you everything. you’d be my everything…” eren said, trying to soothe himself with his words. “so please…”

“i’m sorry eren, i just… i just can’t.” you tell him.

“oh…” he trails off.

“…i’ll be waiting, for as long as it takes.” eren said. he paused before he spoke again. “forever, if i need to…”

you would never admit it, not even to yourself, but a tiny blush spread across your face from his words. he was undoubtedly, a little sweet. even though you disliked him, just a little.

eren sadly said goodbye to you, fully intending on skipping class on monday so he didn’t have to go through the shame and embarrassment of seeing you. eren stood there as you left. you walked deeper into the dormitory complexes, finally getting back home after a long day.

eren watched you as you walked away, the tip of your head disappearing down the hill into the complexes. he walked back out the complex, his heart pounding, trying to calm his thoughts.

he did it- he finally confessed- but you didn’t.

he sat on the closest planter he could find, balling his fists into his head, a migraine coming on. he covered his face as small tears formed in his eyes. he wondered what was wrong with him. was it his personality- his appearance? what were you looking for? he could be anything, if it meant you were there with him. eren’s thoughts stilled, his eyes wet with tears as he slid his hands down his face.

he’d wait forever, if he had to. he told you that, and he meant it. for there was no one eren would ever love besides you.

but maybe now was not the time.

nor would it ever be.

maybe he was just meant to love you. maybe you weren’t meant to love him.

you shut your bedroom, kneeling against the door, thinking deeply. your thoughts traveled to eren, your mind unable to not think about him. you realized just how nervous you were now, your palms sweaty and your legs shaking. as you replayed his confession in your brain, you noted how soft his eyes looked when he gazed upon you. his words just seemed so genuine, so truthful; his voice wavering as he silently begged you for just a moment, a chance with you.

you thought of eren as you laid in bed, seemingly sleeping for a few hours, arriving home far too late. you thought of eren as you studied through the weekend, your notes not even making sense to you as you were so distracted. you thought of eren as you walked into your lecture hall days later, a small skip of your heart as you noticed that eren wasn’t here today. you thought of eren as you went home, walking as you imagined him behind you, his footsteps just barely out of sync with yours; reminding you of the day he confessed. you thought of him as you cooked and cleaned. you thought of him the next day, and the day after that.

eren seemingly stopped showing up to class, the last time you saw him was over two weeks ago. you heard from your mutual friends that eren dropped out of his classes. you couldn’t help but think about him, your mind always going back to his confession. what if you had said yes?

you couldn’t help but wonder.

there was a small stab of guilt in your heart every time someone mentioned eren. you felt a little more aimless each day you went into lectures, knowing he wouldn’t be there. you started to sketch small drawings of dinosaurs in your notebook, a little reminder of him.

you didn’t like him, though.

…right?

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