#is it MY fault he’s 19 years older than me? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sohnric · 8 months

Text

millennium bug – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: 90s au, twenty-five twenty-one au, brother's best friend au, childhood friends au, fluff, slice of life, coming of age. older brother! sunwoo. essentially just eric being baek yijin. oct-nov scenes inspired by weak hero class 1. no plot just vibes im sorry

warnings: minimal swearing and thats all lol

word count: 19k

a/n: posting a fic for a new fandom is always so scary pls be nice to me deobiblr bc im literally abt to cry. also yes i am calling this a 2521 au bc the plot is so heavily inspired it might just be one. a special thank you goes out to @csenke for dragging me into stanning this group i am enjoying myself 🤞

there are some pros and cons to not having friends growing up. cons: you're always forced to tag along with your brother and his group wherever he goes. pros: his childhood best friend is kind of hot.

JUNE OF 1999

Being Kim Sunwoo’s younger sister is no bed of roses sometimes.

Sure, you get the occasional excitement of having him bring you rollerskating with you down the hill or the ever so rare moments of him defending you in front of your mother when you two have done something wrong (while never saying he was in on the bad act as well, of course), but more than often, you are met with his disgusted looks and insults whenever the two years older boy passes by your room and casually bangs at the door just to spite you.

His snarky looks are especially ones to remember. Maybe it’s because he offers them to you often– much like in this very moment, completely unprovoked, and completely not by your fault.

“But mum–”

“I already told you, Sunwoo,” your mother looks at him with a stern look in her eye, the one that makes chills run down your spine, “you can go if you take Y/N with you.”

“But nobody’s bringing their sister! Mum, come on–”

“Take it or leave it, young man.”

And see, your brother may be 19 years old, but he’s still in need of getting permission to leave the house if it includes an overnight stay. It’s an unspoken rule he always follows, since he’s usually granted the right to leave, but the result of his conversation was different than what he expected this time. And see, you may be just two years younger than him (one year left until you are an adult), but even though your mother is too busy to take care of you and entertain your slowly adultling self on most days because of her highly demanding job, she always makes sure that you don’t stay alone for long, and that’s exactly why (you realize, contrary to your brother) she insists on making you tag along on Sunwoo’s trip to the beach house with his friends.

The male grunts and turns on his heel, not giving your mother another response– and with this, you know she won. And that means you’ll have to pack your bag soon, because you know that there’s no way Sunwoo would miss going to the beach house with his friends– even if it meant making his little sister tag along.

And sure enough, Lee Juyeon’s minivan pulls up into your driveway only a few hours later, and the sound of the honking outside is enough for your older brother to aggressively drag you outside of the house, shutting the door behind you and hollering an angry “Bye mum!” to your mother. Your figure is handled with the least amount of care possible as you’re thrown towards the white van, the door opened and 5 heads already peeking out with expecting eyes, waiting for your brother’s arrival.

“My mum made my stupid sister go with me, so I hope we have space for one more,” Sunwoo huffs as he throws his bag into the trunk, slamming it with more force than was necessary (boy does he know how to throw a scene), an encouraging voice of none other than Juyeon– the driver himself– landing in your ear.

“Sure, just hop in!”

With that, your feet finally unglue themselves off the ground and bring you into the vehicle. You’re familiar with his friends– since a scenario like this hasn’t happened for the first time and you had to spend your fair time with Sunwoo’s circle growing up, mainly because you never really had many friends yourself. You’re not close with any of them, though, and you’re sure you haven’t seen half of them for ages.

Lee Juyeon is the responsible one of the group. You’re comfortable with the fact that he’s the driver, since you’re not entirely sure if you’d trust any of the other men in this space behind the wheel (you fear the day your brother gets a driver’s license. You'd bet a million dollars that he’ll die while driving recklessly one day). Next to him on the passenger’s seat is Choi Chanhee, his best friend, carrying a map in his hands and twirling it in all possible directions to get his friend on the right track. In the three-seat behind those two is Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin and your brother himself, and in the very back of the whole van, almost in the trunk, you’re sat next to Eric Sohn– your brother’s childhood best friend.

“Hi guys,” you offer a greeting to all of them, settling into the uncomfortable leather seat (that’s peeling off, just by the way), watching as the rest of the men pay you no mind and ignore your voice, falling into a comfortable conversation with each other.

Sighing, because this always happens– your brother gets too annoyed because he has to bring you with him all the time, and you imagine his friends aren’t fond of the fact either– you settle deeper into the seat and cross your hands on your chest, looking outside of the window. You can’t imagine enjoying your trip now, since you feel like you’re a nuisance, a child they have to take care of (yes, it embarrasses you just the tiniest bit, you have to admit. Although, you do enjoy getting out of the house from time to time), and the fact that your feelings were probably more than justified and also true has you pouting, an unsatisfied feeling weighing at your lungs.

“Hi,” a voice resonates from your side, the sight of a smiling Eric peering at you taking you off guard. You didn’t expect anyone to react to your greeting– not so delayed anyway– and the sight of your brother’s best friend carrying on in the conversation with you has you shocked beyond belief. “Excited?”

Finding yourself hum in agreement– how much you are still excited for the pool and for the sun, you’re not really sure– and although you are upset, something about his open and nice demeanor has you visibly relaxing, the sparkles inviting themselves back into your eyes. “I’ve never been to the beach,” you admit, seeing Eric gasp at you in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “I go every year with my parents.”

“Well,” you hum, “you know how my mother is…” you sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s easier to joke about it than to actually let the fact get to you– with your mother being the main news anchor, she is too busy to actually go on trips and form bonds with her own children sometimes. That’s why you spent most of your childhood at Eric’s family’s house in the first place– this is what made you the closest with Sunwoo’s same aged friend. His parents were nice enough to let you stay over and have sleepovers whenever your mum had to leave suddenly and take week-long trips abroad, or have emergency shifts during late evenings.

Eric hums, sympathizing with you. “Well, at least you get to experience it now!”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly nod, playing with the hem of your jean shorts. It’s the shorts you made yourself by cutting the legs off your favorite pants after you grew out of them and they got too short, and they’re starting to look a little worn-out now. Maybe you should beg your mum to get you some new clothing.

The conversation between the boys grows in volume, doing nothing to help you to relax in the crowded vehicle. You can’t really find a place to fit yourself in and talk, the topics too unfamiliar for you and the feeling of not even being welcome in the discussion sitting heavy on your chest, when a finger bears itself to the flesh of your thigh, making you snap your head around to gape at the source of the contact. Eric looks at you with a boyish grin, sparkles evident in his eyes.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

The male digs around his backpack, hands searching through the contents of his bag for only a couple of seconds– since he’s the neat one, contrary to your messy brother– before he takes out a small gadget: a square with a little screen on top, a silver, circular button space sitting big in the very middle of the device. Eric throws the thing into your lap, smiling when you take it into your hands and examine it with curious eyes.

“Have you seen one before? My dad got it for me last week,” he boosts, satisfied with your reaction to it.

Your mother’s job pays quite well– meaning that you usually have the latest gadgets, the latest trends– but if you’re being honest, you haven’t seen one of these in real life before. Yes, you caught a glimpse of an ad for it in the town center, on one of the big billboards while passing by to get to school in the morning, so you know that it’s an MP3 player, but still; this was your first time touching one and examining it in real life.

“How does it work?” you ask, watching as the boy scoots from his seat to the middle one, so he is now sitting directly next to you, before he takes out wired headphones from the first department of his backpack and turns the little square over in his hands, finding where the jack goes.

“You put those in,” he says, plugging in the headphones, “and then you press this…” he explains, taking the device out of your hand and pushing on the power button for a few seconds, “and then it should play.”

Watching him with expecting eyes, the boy finally puts the MP3 player back into your hold. Then, his fingers swiftly put the respective earphones into your ears– like you’d do to a little kid that has no idea how they work, making you a little flushed at the action– and after that, you’re left with the sound of an unfamiliar song playing in your ears, making the sound of the chatter in the van completely tune out. Eric keeps on watching you, a sense of pride in his eyes as you nod at him, all excited with the new explory, before he takes one of the earphones out of your ear, grinning.

“Cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “The song is good,” you dumbly say, watching as the boy next to you pridefully nods at the compliment, resting his back against the car seat.

“It’s the H.O.T album. My dad says they’re good,” he mumbles, moving the headphone he took from you and placing it into his ear, making you nod at him in acknowledgement. The action has your insides bubble with disappointment, thinking that the fun is over as you reach for the other earphone as well, offering it to the male.

Eric looks at you with a shocked pout, shaking his head. “No, we can share!” he says, pointing towards your ear. “If you want, of course.”

The action has you smiling, a shy nod escaping out of you as you reach and put the earphone back into your ear, letting yourself fall deeper into the car seat, listening to the song from Eric’s MP3 player. You’re grateful for his presence– he didn’t have to keep up a conversation with you. He could ignore you, just like the rest of his friend group always has. Maybe it was something about the two of you growing up together that always made the boy at least a bit more affectionate towards you than the rest.

You spend the car ride to the beach house with Eric leaning on your side, listening to music and his occasional blabbering about how his previous days went.

Somehow, you're glad the seat beside him was the only vacant one when you arrived to the vehicle.

YOUR SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 1989

You don't quite remember when you met Eric for the first time, if you’re being completely honest. The first memory you have of him is of your seventh birthday party, although you’re almost certain the boy’s been present at some point of your life before– at one point, you think you saw a picture of him and Sunwoo, two chubby toddlers, watching you as you laid on a blanket on the ground somewhere in your photo album. As far as you’re concerned, he may as well have been there when your mother brought you back from the hospital– although you think he must have been too young for that back then.

The first memory you have of Eric Sohn is the day you turned seven– a gloomy, sad day that in the moment, you prayed you wouldn’t have to remember in the first place.

It was already established that while your brother is the social butterfly, you don’t have a big friend group. Actually, you could count the number of your friends on one hand, and since the amount wasn’t as big, your mother allowed you to invite them all over to your house to celebrate your birthday with you.

She baked a cake, she decorated the living room, hell, she even took a day off from work– something you deemed special, for it doesn’t happen often– and as you sat on the floor of your living room, the cake standing proud on the small coffee table, waiting for your friends to arrive, you hummed a song under your breath, the clock slowly passing the time you agreed for them to come over and celebrate.

At first, you didn’t mind it– everybody gets late sometimes, it’s okay. It was just a birthday party, and you had a lot of time. Not everything had to be set on schedule.

But the closer the clock moved to being one hour, than two after the time your friends were supposed to come, you grew worried. Your mother’s nervous pacing around the living room and her heavy sighs as she sat next to you on the floor, smiling at you in what you can only explain as sad way made you more and more anxious about the fact that you only had three friends, but all three of them seemed to not care enough to come celebrate your birthday with you. And as your mother finally took the final bow in the form of a soft hand on your inner thigh, her tone gentle as she called your name– “Y/N, I think we should light the candles,” you began to tear up.

You were supposed to eat the cake with your friends. You were supposed to hear them sing the birthday song to you. You were supposed to turn on the radio and dance around with your classmates, eat the sweets and unwrap the cheap, but heartfelt gifts they brought along with them to celebrate your birthday.

But none of these scenarios were happening, and you felt incredibly, incredibly lonely and sad. Forgotten, if you will. Not cared for, definitely.

Hiding your face into your hands, you started to cry. This disappointment was too big for your small heart to take, and you no longer cared about the cake, the candles, the seaweed soup your mother cooked for you to celebrate, the gifts, or the party. All you wanted to do was hide in your room and never come out– something about the whole situation felt deeply embarrassing, and to this day, the moment before the whole day turned around still makes you feel a bit ashamed of yourself.

Too busy crying, you didn’t notice your older brother watching you with big bambi eyes, a worried glance sent your way each time your sobs grew louder and louder. And maybe the boy only wanted to taste the cake (he’s been bugging your mum about it since the very morning, but he was always sent off with a scolding look telling him that he’ll get a slice when everyone arrives), but no matter what his true intentions were, his actions still managed to pull your seventh birthday party together in a way you never imagined.

The sound of the front door faintly resonated in your brain somewhere in the middle of your aimless sobbing, but you paid it no mind, thinking it was just Sunwoo going out to the yard to kick the ball. See, your older brother had never really known what to do when you cried growing up– it didn’t matter if he was the reason for your tears or if anyone else was. If he was the reason for your emotional outbursts, he tried to shut you up with his palm and get you to stop crying before his mother found out and gave him a scolding, but if someone else was, the small boy sometimes turned angry at the source. Kicking his classmate that once made a snarky comment about you and made you tear up or punching his friend when he was too harsh with you was all he knew to do in these situations, so he wasn’t the one to comfort you with words or hugs. It was only natural for him to escape in this situation.

You were brought to a state of shock and surprise when a hand landed on your shoulder, a familiar voice breaking you from your emotional turmoil.

“Why are you crying? We have to eat the cake!” you heard, your big, sad eyes meeting the small figure of the boy living next door, your brother nervously stepping from one side to the other right behind his best friend. “Can you light the candles, Mrs?” Eric politely asked your mum, pointing towards the cake waiting sadly at the coffee table, the figure of your mother leaving your side only shortly to get the matches from the kitchen and illuminate your face with the small flames.

Confusion mirrored your features as you watched your brother and his best friend sing the birthday song to you while your mum lit your candles, both boys clapping and dancing around, acting silly just to get a laugh from you. You didn't know how Eric got there, but you guessed there are some good sides to having him as your neighbor. The energetic boy did his best to brighten up your mood a bit, and when you blew out the candle, making a wish, Sunwoo even went as far as smashing your face into the cake to bring in the full birthday authenticity.

That got him a slap to the back of his head from your mother, as well as made you stand up from your position– no longer making you look like a disappointed bulk of pity– and chase him around the room, icing falling off your nose to the laminated floor. You got your revenge and smeared the chocolate all over his forehead (he let you chase him down only because it was your birthday and he really, really hated to see his sister cry, but he won’t ever tell you that) and as the three of you sat back down to the floor, watching your mother slice the cake and offer it to you on small white plates, you realized you suddenly weren't as sad anymore.

“What did you wish for?” Eric asked you, mouth full of cake and face messy with chocolate.

“I can’t tell you,” you hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Then it won’t come true.”

“You probably wished for that doll you saw in the store the other day,” Sunwoo snickered as he swallowed, having you glare at him and send a sharp kick to his shin, unwatched by your mother (thankfully), as the boy fought you back, having no mercy.

Music suddenly filled the room as Eric stood up and put the radio on, his 9 year old brain smart enough to know how the device worked, his small figure dancing away to the songs playing on the single radio station you could play without carefully sorting out the antenna so it faced the north, and truly, you didn’t know how it happened, but it had you standing up and dancing around, exactly how you'd imagined doing with your friends from school.

The day wasn’t ruined– quite the opposite, really. It was one of your favorite birthday parties, and ever since then, Eric was invited to every single one you had after. And while Sunwoo may act like he doesn’t hate anything more in this world than having a younger sister, every time you feel like a burden to him, you remember this very afternoon.

You will never tell anyone what you wished for that day– but just to let everyone in on the secret,

it was to somehow, just like Sunwoo, find someone like Eric for yourself as well.

JUNE OF 1999

Standing at the side of the pool, eyes squinting from the inevitable force of the sun, you’re starting to regret your decision of coming along just a little. See, you usually don’t protest whenever Sunwoo aggressively drags you around and brings you everywhere he’s supposed to, because even though you love to see your brother angry (especially when you’re the reason behind the emotion), you’d also hate to see him miss out, but now, as the scorching hot sun is having no mercy on every exposed inch of skin– and believe me, there’s a lot of it, since you’re wearing your swimming trunks– and the sweat on your forehead is no longer culminating in beads, but rolling painfully slowly down your forehead, you do admit you’d be a little bit happier in the shade of your little room than here, watching the guys play volleyball in the comfort of the freezing cold pool.

And as the only female around the house, you settle with the patriarchy and bring out a small folding chair and a camping table alongside with a big, sharp knife, struggling to hoist up the giant watermelon you got in a grocery store on your way to the beach house, with the intention of cutting it and serving it to the guys later. Who knows, maybe they’ll like you a little more after that.

The knife sinks into the thick green skin of the watermelon easily, and so as you accompany yourself with the excited (and not so excited screams coming from the losing side of the game– mainly your brother himself), you cut up the fruit into halves, then quarters, and as you stare at the moon crescents settled on the camping table, you decide to play nice and cut up the fruit into smaller triangles as well, to really get on everyone’s good side.

The yearning for male validation awakes in a woman pretty early on in life. It’s an inevitable misfortune.

“Told you Sunwoo’s all talk but no game!” you hear Haknyeon yell out as the game seemingly ends, the younger boy lunging at him in the pool, fighting him for the truthful words. Glancing at the commotion, you notice the guys slowly getting out of the pool, making you heave out in victory– you’re finally gonna have your turn in the pool. Well, if they don’t decide to occupy it again before you even get a chance to get in.

“Y/N! You cut up the watermelon?” Eric asks a very obvious question, walking up to you with beads of water all over his half-naked body. His dark hair is damply sitting against his forehead, making him look like a wet puppy, but as the male gets closer to you, he drags his palm through the locks and pushes them back, revealing his forehead– a sight sweet to your eyes, but you refuse to pay it much attention in the heat of the moment. It’s just the sun making you delirious as the idea of finding him attractive flashes through your brain, that’s all.

“I did! Take one,” you smile, watching as the rest of the guys walk over to your little stand– while also obnoxiously swatting out water out of their hair like dogs, refusing to use towels like normal people– and finally, there it comes: appreciative smiles appear on their faces as they each take a piece, biting down on the fruit with delighted sighs.

Sunwoo walks up to you with a surprised look on his face, sighing as he messes with your hair. “If I knew you’d be our servant, I wouldn’t have even minded you going in the first place.”

“You do something nice for people and they jump on the chance to exploit you,” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s just like you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“No, that’s just me having older brother privileges.”

“I hope you choke on that, you know,” you bite at him, pointing towards the piece of sweet watermelon in his hands, the smile on his face turning bitter. There’s a satisfied look on your face when your brother does, indeed, choke on a watermelon seed a few seconds later– and they say dreams don’t come true.

“You didn’t have to,” you hear Eric speak up from the other side, your head turning to face the male, his features appreciative and warm. “Thank you,” he beams. There’s redness on the tip of his nose and his forehead, signaling his quickly approaching sunburn, and you can’t help but laugh out at his clueless, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer self.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you in question.

“Nothing,” you peep, “you just look like you forgot to use sunscreen,” you mumble, watching as the male gasps and touches his face, a horrified expression overtaking him when the skin under his fingertips burns to the touch.

“I didn’t forget! It must have rubbed off in the pool,” he mourns, “I must look stupid!”

“Only a little,” you tease, a grin overtaking your features. See, there’s something about the fact that you’ve known Eric for the entirety of your whole life that makes you more prone to teasing him– you’re familiar with your dynamics and just how far you can go, so his next actions startle you just the tiniest bit as the male looks sternly at you, throwing the half-eaten watermelon slice to the camping table. You thought you had the risks calculated– apparently, you didn't.

“What did you say?”

Examining his features, seeing no signs of anger– just the stoic, fakely-offended face of your brother’s childhood best friend– you shrug. “That you look a bit stupid with your face like that.”

“Oh, okay,” he nods, “you’re going down for that.”

“What do you mea–”

Your words are cut short when the male lunges at you, his arms enveloping your thighs and holding you up. The contact of his cold skin from the pool and your heated figure makes goosebumps appear all over your body, your hands instinctively reaching around him to support yourself as he walks closer to the pool– his intentions are suddenly painfully clear and you start to panic.

“This will teach you to respect your elders,” Eric huffs, the turquoise surface of the water slowly coming into your point of view.

“Stop! Stop-stop-stop,” you squirm, kicking your feet and trying to take down the predator, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, alright?”

The male takes a halt for a split second– making you foolishly believe he’ll let you off– before he breaks out into a devilish grin and continues to walk to the edge of the pool. “Too late.”

“Eric!” you scream, the volume of your voice resonating through the whole beach, your heart thumping wild against your ribcage with the awaiting process. You’re not even sure what you’re scared of anymore– you can swim and you bet the water will feel nice against the scorching sun– but still, you’re absolutely terrified as the male has no mercy on you, carrying you steadily towards the water. “At least let me tie my hair first! You can dump me in after, I promise,” you mourn, trying to buy yourself more time.

“Alright,” he nods, waiting at the very edge of the pool, leaving you to take the purple scrunchie off your wrist and gather your hair together, preparing to tie it into a bun so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re in the pool. The hair tie is just at the tips of your fingertips, the first loop over the hair ready to be done, when a scream cuts out of your throat.

The feeling of falling suddenly overtakes your body, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for the impact of the cold water against your skin and all up in your nose, since you didn’t pluck it when you were dumped into the pool. The fall only lasts a split second until you’re below the water, the force of it resonating in your ears, and when you finally act on your instincts and stand up in the pool (it wasn’t even that deep in the first place, only reaching to your upper stomach), you cough out all the water and pray to gods you don’t throw up chlorine into the freshly cleaned pool. After you’re done catching your breath and getting oxygen into your lungs again, you do your best at getting all the hair out of your face.

There is laughter landing into your ears as soon as you manage to get all the water out of them by leaning your head to the side and violently slapping each one, and when your eyes look up, you see an amused Eric Sohn bending over in his waist at your disheveled appearance.

Grunting and pointing a finger to the criminal that almost made you drown, you huff out. “I’ll kill you! Just you watch.”

Your scrunchie nowhere to be found, forever lost somewhere outside of the beach house, you think, as it flew off your hand in the impact of the attack, shock makes your figure shake alongside of the coldness of the water, making you audibly sigh.

Yes. You do regret coming along just a little.

JULY OF 1999

Somewhere along the way, Eric Sohn starts acting as if he’s your second older brother. Sure, you’ve known the male your whole entire life and he’s seen you grow up, but it took him 17 years of your life to come to a point where he gives you equal amount of attention whenever he’s over at your house than he does to your brother, and even asks Sunwoo if you’re coming along with them whenever they leave to hang out somewhere else. It’s a change that comes naturally and slowly, and you welcome it unknowingly– the revelation shocks you on a hot summer day, though, when the idea finally comes to you in full force.

You would even argue and say Eric acts more like your brother than your actual sibling does– he asks if you’ve eaten and listens to you when you talk (which Sunwoo never does, well, except from when he’s arguing with you). Eric even compliments your outfits sometimes and lets you borrow his MP3 player from time to time– Sunwoo would never share his things with you, no matter how hard you pleaded and threatened to tell your mum. Yes, your brother's an adult and you’re one year away from becoming one– you still resolve your conflicts through your only parent, though. Some things, you never grow out of.

“I wanna try using the skateboard now, Sunwoo,” you order sternly when the boy finally reaches your destination. You’ve been sitting on the sidewalk for quite some time now, since your brother and his friend decided that they’re gonna try out their new skateboards on the hottest day of the year. Your town doesn’t have fancy skateparks and ramps like the ones you’ve seen in the music videos on TV, so you don’t really know what initially made the two buy those things, but you do admit that even driving up and down the road in front of your house does seem a little fun– so much you’d love to try it.

“What a shame we all wish for things we can’t have,” he shrugs ironically, shaking his head at you from his position above. The male reaches down for his bag, taking out a water bottle and putting it against his plush lips, all while you glare at him from below, still seated in your initial position. Eric comes up to you two, squishing at the soft plastic bottle in Sunwoo’s hold, making the water splash your older brother in the face, leaving a winning grin to be shared between you and the shorter boy, an expression that makes you all warm on the inside. See, at least Eric always has your back.

“You can try mine, if you want,” the latter shrugs, offering you a smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “why not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just didn’t expect you to offer, since as you saw, my dear brother just refused when I asked…” you mumble, standing up from the sidewalk and taking the skateboard into your hand. Eric offers it to you with an outstretched arm and watches as you put the board on the floor, squinting at it with much examination.

“Do you know how to ride it?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I mean, if Sunwoo can do it, how hard can it really be?” you joke, seeing as the said boy glares at you, finally finishing his water and dropping the bottle to the ground.

“I’ll remind you of that statement when you eat shit on the pavement,” he shushes you, rolling his eyes.

Not paying more attention to the grumpy being that is your own brother, you relocate your attention back to the skateboard on the heated road. You’re lucky you live on a street where cars don’t often drive by, since your neighborhood is on the very edge of the town, so you don’t really fear being run over by a pickup truck. What you do worry about, though, is your lacking sense of balance, which you discovered when you learned how to ride the bike for the first time. While your brother was a professional in no time, it took you weeks to get it right, and so with the idea of riding a board that provides you zero sense of security, you get a bit worried for your own life.

Dragging your hair out of your face and aimlessly trying to tuck it behind your ears– there’s no use in trying though, as the strands slip out just as fast as they found their place– you keep staring at the board only a few centimeters away from your feet, mentally calculating your next move. There’s a noise of a backpack being opened and rustling around in the background of your miserable thoughts, and when you look up to see what’s going on, you notice Eric offering you a small, purple bundle of fabric.

“What’s that?” you ask, even though the answer is clear as the day– you recognise your own scrunchie with no problem. You’re just surprised to see it in his hold. You thought it was forever buried somewhere in the beach house, since you weren’t able to find it after you got out of the pool, no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh,” he shrugs, amidst a little too nonchalantly, “I found it and figured it was yours, but I forgot to give it back to you then… it seems like you need it now, though,” he offers you an explanation, lips pressed into a thin line that slightly signifies a smile.

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding as you take the hair tie out of his outstretched palm, gathering your hair into a bun and tying it up on the crown of your head– the staring contest you’ve been having with the board is much clearer now, when you don’t have your messy strands in the way. The idea of Eric keeping your scrunchie after finding it at the beach house makes your stomach do a weird kind of turn– you guess it made you a bit weirded out, if you’re being honest.

“Want some help with that?” he asks, pointing towards his skateboard.

Nervous, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes– he looks a bit amused, but still genuine– you nod, admitting defeat. There’s no way you’re getting on top of that board without help and not falling down. It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry, and so when Eric laughs airly at your composure and takes a few steps closer towards you, you let the male lead you, finding comfort in his secure words and actions.

Eric offers you his arms to hold when you try to get on the skateboard. He is peering at you from under his eyelashes when you put one of your legs onto the wood, his grip on your forearm getting firmer when you try to get your other foot on as well– and you must admit that you suddenly don’t feel like you might die anymore when there’s someone holding you and standing by your side.

“See? It’s not that hard,” Eric mumbles, his voice low and reassuring from the proximity. You notice your hands sweating a little when his palm envelopes yours– damn the sun and its unbearable heat making you embarrass yourself– but he doesn’t mention it as he firmly holds you and meets your eyes. “I’m gonna drag you around a bit so you get used to it before trying yourself,” he says before taking a few steps forward, preparing to be your own type of personal driver.

Having him instruct you and help you around makes you feel more comfortable on the board. Sunwoo would never do such a thing for you– he’d enjoy watching you fall down and break your neck and possibly die– so you’re more than happy to have someone in your life that takes care of you in ways your older brother refuses to.

The skateboard moves forward a little, starting slow, but then picking up speed as Eric jogs a little, making you laugh at the action. He does not have to go above and beyond, but he still does– but you guess it’s good for him to let out his energy somewhere. After a while, he looks back at you and meets your eye with a warm gaze, making you nod at him reassuringly and hold up a thumb of the hand he’s not holding right now, signaling that you’re okay and enjoying yourself. That has the male let go of your hand and let you take the road with the laws of physics, moving forward by yourself with the force he created.

It’s nice. It’s fun.

Yes, you totally understand why Eric and Sunwoo wanted skateboards after seeing them on TV. Hell, you want one now.

“Try it yourself now!” Eric encourages you as the board naturally comes to a stop under you, and his smiling face is enough for you to take initiative and nod, relocating one foot off the wood and placing it on the floor, then kicking it and making yourself move on the simple vehicle.

A moment of surprise envelopes you like a warm hug when you manage to not fall off and keep your balance, the joy of it making you try to go faster on the board, kicking once, twice against the pavement with the sole of your old, beaten up shoe. “I’m doing it!” you yell, glancing back at Eric standing on the sidewalk, watching you with excited eyes. The male offers you a victorious holler, something that makes you break into a laugh, makes your confidence blossom in marvelous ways.

Confidence rises in you so much you try to take a U-turn and go back to your teacher– perhaps showing off that you really got the hang of it now, or something– but as you try to maneuver the board and turn right, there it comes: the moment where you realize that you were, once again, too overly-confident in your abilities that are, sadly, very poor. Your body sways from side to side, your poor balance laughs at you and points an accusing finger at your attempts, and, well, to put it frankly, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and the moment plays in slow motion as you lose the board from below your feet– the wood flying somewhere to the opposite side of the road, not at all where you meant to go in the first place– and your body inevitably comes crashing to the ground.

Awaiting the hard pavement meeting your nose and breaking it, you brace yourself with palms outstretched in front of you, the last remains of self-perseverance entering the sane parts of your brain in what you think are the last seconds of your miserable life. Another moment of surprise greets you when your yelp is muffled against something soft and your hands don’t hit the hard pavement, your ears filled with a grunt that belongs to another human swiftly chiming in and catching you before you fall.

Firm hands hold your waist– the touch somehow familiar, enveloping you in a strange sense of deja vu– and even though your body goes limp in terror, the male has you back on your feet in no time, his palms on the exposed skin of your stomach. The realization has you burning up as you look up and meet Eric’s eyes, gasping at the closeness of his face to yours.

“You okay over there?” he asks as you unconsciously study his face– you never noticed his nose looked this nice up close– before you wake out of it and nod urgently, breaking away from his hold. You’re not gonna try to calculate the effort he must have put in just to chime in and catch you from where he was standing in such a short moment, but something about the passing thought of it has you weak in your knees from gratefulness.

“Uhm- yeah,” you nod, kicking the pavement with your stained shoes, “I just… miscalculated my skills, that’s all,” you sheepishly hum, hearing the boy snicker at your shaken-up composure.

Watching him take off and retrieve his skateboard from where it wandered off against the curb– much to his golden retriever energy– you sigh and prepare to go sit back on the sidewalk, having enough of new experiences from the shock still lingering in your fingertips. You take a glance down the road, seeing your older brother cruising on the street– when and how he got there, you truly have no idea– when you hear Eric, who seemingly has different ideas for your next actions, call at you from the middle of the pavement.

“Where are you going? Come back!” he asks, having you look at him in surprise, mouth agape and eyes big, staring at him. He now has the board under his shoulder, but puts it back on the road and points at it, shrugging to himself. “I’ll push you down the road, it’s gonna be fun!”

“Eric, I’m literally going to die–”

“No, you’re not. Come on, I promise,” he says, but still, he doesn’t have you convinced. Your feet move against your best conclusions, though, and when you come to a halt right in front of your companion, he offers you a boyish grin. “Sit down on it, that way you’re more balanced. I swear you’re not gonna fall off, okay? I got you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he nods, determined.

“Pinky swear,” you mumble, holding up your pinky finger– all thoughts of seeming childish pushed to the side in the desperate moment– and the male in front of you shakes his head in disbelief, breaking into a laugh.

“Cute,” he huffs, “yeah, okay. Pinky swear,” he nods, interlacing your pinky with his and bumping his thumb against yours, the seal foolishly making you feel more secure as you follow his order and take a seat on the skateboard, your hands gripping the bottom of the wood so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1–” he chants as he pushes you, two steady hands coming in contact with your shoulder blades, force making you move on the board, wheels taking you down with gravity. The sound of Eric’s shoes hitting the pavement fills your ears as you go faster, and as you finally get to the part of the hill that takes a downwards slope, he offers you a final push, sending you down the road.

Wind makes your hair fly back, your surroundings blurring as you yelp and scream, but you can’t say you’re not enjoying the ride. Eric was right– it was fun, you liked it, and something about the gesture had you all warm on the inside. The breeze has you cool down a little in the summer heat, and the board continues to move even as you pass your older brother standing at the bottom of the slope, away from your trajectory.

Body relaxing when the skateboard finally slows down, you let out a heartfelt laughter. Turning back and seeing Eric jog down the road with a humongous grin on his face, you offer him two thumbs up above your head, watching as he returns the gesture and makes his way back to the two of you on the bottom of the small hill.

The truth is, this was the day you realized Eric Sohn has always found his way to make you feel included and safe.

You can’t help but feel grateful.

AUGUST OF 1999

“Sunwoo, you have to tie a knot here and then– no, you dumbass, you’re doing it completely wrong,” you mourn as you watch your older brother with a mess of thread in his lap, a focused scowl on his face. There’s a fan standing across from you, blowing cold air into your face, but you still feel yourself grow heated with frustration as Sunwoo just can’t help but not understand the art of making friendship bracelets. It’s not like you’re forcing him to do them– he was the one that asked you to show him how to, muttering something about offering one to his classmate Yeji once he’s back in school– so in theory, he should be putting in effort, no?

Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s just… incompetent.

“I don’t get it,” Sunwoo hums under his breath, sighing as he leans against the sofa in your living room, the two of you sitting on the floor accompanied by his best friend squinting at you from the opposite side, a comic book in the latter's hand. The myth of men not being able to multi-task is quickly thrown into the bin as you watch Eric pay equal amount of attention to the comic book and the dialogue between you and your brother, and when Sunwoo seems to give up on the art of making friendship bracelets, his best friend can’t help but laugh.

“You’re giving up already? This is how you want to get a girlfriend?” you poke your brother to his side and take the threads off his lap, examining the mess of a safety pin and meters of yarn, all knotted up and not coming along in the shape you taught him to at all.

“It’s not to get a girlfriend, I just-”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, huffing as you roll his poor attempt at friendship bracelet into a ball and throw it to the corner of the room, making a mental note to pick it up and throw it to the bin later. “You know what, just give her this one and pretend you made it,” you mutter, taking a bracelet you'd already made to demonstrate in between your fingers and throw it into Sunwoo’s lap, the older one catching it and examining it under his nose.

“That looks pretty good,” he hums, making you snort at his appreciative comment. The bracelet is pink and red, the colors just screaming romance and cute energy, which is exactly what a girl needs to be swayed by your brother. You can’t really believe a bracelet will make her swoop into his arms, because truthfully, with your brother’s face and manners, every living thing is keeping a fair distance, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Maybe his classmate is… majorly blind? That might do it?

“Of course it looks good,” you scoff, “that’s because I made it,” you nod, averting your gaze towards your lap, threading your fingers through the yarn you attached to a safety pin on your sweatpants to keep the growing friendship bracelet in place.

“Then why is the one you’re making right now so ugly?” Eric asks, pointing towards the creation.

Glancing up at the male slowly, mentally throwing all different kinds of curses at him for daring to talk badly about your craft, you huff. “What do you mean, ugly?”

“The colors… they don’t… they don’t really go together,” Eric sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck, quickly averting his gaze from you and gluing it back into his comic book. You think that if he doesn’t stop being a smart-ass and throw jabs at your artistic choices, he’s gonna have to protect his comic book with his own body– and you bet he’d do that, because he borrowed it from the library. The fees for damage are high.

“That’s just… not true at all,” you muse, but groggily take a look at the creation once again, but now, thanks to the remark, seeing it in a completely different way. Shades of orange, brown and purple stare back at you amidst a little disappointedly, and as you thread the yarn and make a couple of knots to end the bracelet, you can’t help but feel a pout growing on your face from the realization. Eric might be right. It does look a little bad…

“Whatever. Your taste is just bad,” you snap as you finish off the craft piece, unclasping the safety pin and sliding the bracelet off the inside, freeing it from the hold. Eric laughs a little at your frustrated state– similarly to what you do when you manage to get Sunwoo upset– and with that, you sigh and put the bracelet on the coffee table.

“I’m going out to the store to get some chocolates,” you say as you stand up, goal clear in your mind, “have fun, losers.”

“You’re still collecting the stickers from these?” Sunwoo asks, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. The teasing is inevitable and coming very soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it– you’re fully aware, which only further makes you want to escape the situation more quickly. Rolling your eyes at your brother’s antics, you move towards the door.

“Yes, Sunwoo, I am. They’re cute and make me happy, do you have a problem with that?” you point an accusing finger at the male, having him shrug, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“You’re such a kid,” he huffs, averting his gaze from you when he lands the comment, the jab coming straight at your fragile heart.

“Okay, then,” you note, “I’ll just have my pretty and cute bracelet back, and you can get your girlfriend something else-”

The male quickly regains his previous composure, swatting his hands in hurry just to make you halt in your sentence. His eyes are big and his mouth is a little agape in terror as he tries to save his ass, plea written all over his face. “I was just joking! Don’t be so petulant… go get your cute stickers, they’re so fun!”

Humming to yourself, your face is tugged up into a victorious smile. “That's what I thought. So, as I was saying, have fun, losers.”

“Wait!” Eric suddenly calls for you, making you turn on your heel in the middle of your escape, eyes peering at the male. “Don’t I get a bracelet too?”

The request catches you off guard. There’s a certain kind of spark in Eric Sohn’s eyes as he asks the question, and you can’t really place it in any category, but it has you nervously shrugging at the preposition. You’re not really sure why Eric would want a bracelet from you, but to avoid confrontation and also the weird leap of your heart surely leading you into cardiac arrest, you only shrug and move back inside of the living room, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you scan the surroundings, searching for something.

“Sure,” you nod, taking the ugly bracelet off the table and offering it to him, “you can have that one.”

You hold a staring contest with the older boy for a couple of seconds, his head undoubtedly swirling with arguments and comments about the apparel of the friendship bracelet, but he’s smart– he must know the survival of his beloved comic book must be at stake. So, he only nods and smiles at you, outstretching his hand to you and nudging his head in its direction.

“Okay,” he hums, “tie it for me?”

A second comes by– a heartbeat, really– in which you chew on your bottom lip and gasp at the request, but still, you nod and come closer, crouching down to be at his level and taking the thread into your fingers. You wrap the bracelet around his wrist, making sure to leave a bit of wiggle room before you tie a knot, bringing the ends together, all while feeling the eyes of Eric glued to your face, watching every micro expression flash through your unsettling composure.

When you’re done, making a move to hide your hands behind your back and standing up, your limbs bump into each other and send an unspoken sense of electricity all through your body. The sensation is so strange you don’t meet anyone’s eye before you leave the room, yelling out a goodbye as you hurriedly open the front door and run out to get fresh air (it’s August, though. The air is humid and only makes your head spin more).

You clear your throat before you take off to the grocery store. It's only when you're halfway there that you realize you'd forgotten to bring your wallet with you. It's okay, though– you take this chance to walk around, regaining your casualty.

You bet Eric will take the bracelet off in a matter of a week.

SEPTEMBER OF 1999

The leaves start turning orange and the weather a bit colder when you become hyper-aware of your shifting composure whenever Eric Sohn is around. The way you feel heat rushing to your cheeks whenever he calls you cutie, a nickname he’s had reserved for you since you two were little kids, the way you feel weak in your knees whenever he casually brings his arm around your shoulders or when he bends down to tie your shoelace in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t really know what those sudden changes are, yet, you feel a bit embarrassed by them whenever they take place. You don’t think it’s normal to feel this way around your brother’s best friend, and the more you hang out with him, the more you wish you read less books as a child– because now, you’re also hyper-aware of the title those feelings may have.

Still, it only comes to you on one September afternoon– you wake up from blissful unawareness and jolt with the quickly opening pit in your stomach at the strange revelation.

“Eric! Sunwoo isn’t home, though?” you mumble, confused as you notice the boy standing on your doorway, a plastic bag in his hand and a red Nike jacket enveloping his frame.

“I know, he said he’s hanging out with Juyeon hyung today,” he nods, “I brought you something, though,” he says, holding up the bag and making sure you get a chance to see it, offering you a boyish grin.

“Oh?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at the male. When you do nothing to invite him inside, he does so himself– slightly nudging you in your side as he passes your figure and enters your house. He acts like he owns the place, and by the amount of time he’s spent in your home, you’d think he does– he doesn’t, though. The only thing he owns is just a lot of audacity.

The male takes off his shoes in the entryway and walks his way over to your room– a surprising act, considering he’s spent the least amount of time in this very place– and when he’s sure you’re following his every move, he empties the contents of the bag to the middle of your freshly made bed. Watching as approximately ten items fall out of the plastic, your eyes widen with surprise as you recognise your favorite chocolate– the mini bars with stickers inside, the ones you collect and stick into your journal and look at in the middle of the night, giggling to yourself and kicking your feet at the adorable pictures in your make-shift collect book.

“Woah,” you gasp when the male looks at you, seemingly awaiting your response, and when he gets the wished outcome, pride overtakes his features, shrugging to himself.

“My mum got some for free because she bought a lot of cabbage for kimchi yesterday,” he explains, “I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought you some more.”

“I- you-” you stutter, emotions too big for your own good swelling all inside your fragile, little self, hands running into your hair and tugging at the roots to wake yourself up from the dream. “You didn’t have to!”

“We got them anyway, and I know you like the stickers,” Eric shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, completely ignoring the fact that he said he bought you some more, your heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively take a step closer to your bed, gathering a bar of chocolate into your hand and opening it, taking a bite.

“You can have the stickers if you give me some chocolate,” Eric says close to your ear, almost as if he was creating a masterplan, to which you eagerly nod and plop onto your bed, moving the bars of sweets into one pile. As you continue to munch on the first one, you unwrap the sticker and look at it, praying to yourself as if you were checking if your lottery ticket was worth any cent– hoping you get a sticker you don’t own yet.

The image of a cute panda would cheer anyone up even in their darkest moments– not you, though, as you mourn and sigh, disappointment clear in your features.

“What?” Eric asks, eyes big pools of worry.

“I already got that one.”

“Ah,” he nods, seemingly understanding– much to your surprise, “well, we got 9 more tries, let’s get to eating.”

Wrappers are rustling in your bed sheets as you and Eric eat the concerning amount of chocolate, gathering the stickers in a little pile on top of your notebook, promising each other to not look at the stickers as you go and just make a grand reveal at the end. Eric’s full cheeks are a sight you enjoy, telling him he looks like a squirrel– to which he sends a light flick to your forehead, telling you you don’t look much different– and soon enough, the nine bars left disappear from your plain sight (you only had 3 and Eric ate the remaining 5. He’s a growing boy, though, so you understand. He needs to get his undying energy from somewhere.).

“Ready for the reveal?” you ask, locking your gaze with Eric.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, you get to the pile of stickers in the middle of your bedsheets. Looking at the first one, there’s a happy squeal cutting out of your throat, the image of an adorable yellow duck warming you up with euphoria.

“You don’t have that one yet?”

“I don’t,” you nod, “this is just perfect.”

Eric nods and watches you with a certain kind of warmth in his gaze as you open up your notebook and stick the newest addition to your little sticker farm– or a ZOO, however you wanna call it. The next sticker from the pile is added as well– a brown, big bear– and the next one too, the most adorable colorful parrot slapped to the corner of your page.

The rest of your stickers are the ones you already own, though– a displeased look takes over your features at the knowledge, but still, you can’t help but beam at the fact that you have 3 new additions to your collection, and they were a gift from Eric Sohn himself. Someone who doesn’t make fun of your childish habit. Someone who feeds your little interest, watches you with excitement in his eyes as you indulge. Someone not like your brother.

Someone you could never see the way you see your brother.

“What do you do with the duplicates?” Eric asks, pointing to the sad pile on the top of your notebook. His figure is closer to you now, since he wanted to watch you stick the animals into your notebook, his crossed legs almost pressed against yours on the small bed.

“Well, usually, I just throw them out,” you shrug, “but since you’re here…” you muse, the idea plopping into your head like the newest discovery you should probably patent, peeling the back of one of the dog stickers off and swiftly turning towards your companion, mischief sparkling in your eyes.

You put the sticker on his left cheek, making the boy jump. “Hey!”

Giggling, taking another one of the stickers and pressing it to the middle of his forehead, Eric starts to fight you, your bodies wrestling on the bed. You don’t think he puts much effort into getting you off him– that, or he’s insanely weak– and in no time, his face is adorned with all different kinds of animals, his hair messy from tussling in your bedsheets. The image has you laughing before you realize you’re basically straddling him on your bed, his big eyes gaping at you from below, his appearance enough to make something in your brain short-circuit and make you leap off him, clearing your throat.

Heat rushes into your cheeks as you take a seat next to him, playing with your fingers. You pray for anything to come and ease the awkwardness you caused, and sure enough, today must be your lucky day. “Hey, look here!”

You call for the boy as you swiftly take your polaroid camera off your bedside table– the one that belonged to your dad, the one you fought with Sunwoo about, the one your mum said was yours because Sunwoo is too careless with his things to keep it safe– and snap a picture of the puppy-like boy, laughing at the fact that now, you have the image of him looking dumb and covered in stickers forever. Or at least until he doesn't take it away from you– which he attempts quickly.

“Hey!” he yelps again, huffing as he lunges at you, trying to take the picture out of your grasp as you drop the camera into your soft sheets. Your feet take you to the living room, navigating through furniture, and when you don’t hear footsteps follow you, you think you’re safe– Eric does have a lot of energy, but chasing you around gets tiring for him quickly when he knows you'll never let him win.

Entering your room once again, prepared to find him on your bed like before, you’re taken by surprise as a shutter sound goes off right after you open the door, a polaroid picture taken of your face making you temporarily blind at the flash.

“Eric!” you whine, hating that there’s a picture of you standing shocked at your doorway now forever in the universe– not really caring that the boy just got you back with the exact stunt you pulled on him just a few minutes ago. Before you get a chance to blink out the blind spots in your vision caused by the flash and run after him, though, you feel him gently press you out of the doorway and slip outside, the sound of the front door opening and closing after him resonating along his slowly disappearing, amused laughter.

Serves you right, doesn’t it?

Sighing, you shake your head and take a seat on your bed, the picture of the boy still in between your fingertips. You only take a look at it when your vision comes back to normal, and as the image of Eric covered in stickers, hair messy and cheeks rosy below the animal print comes into your sight, the revelation arrives the same second a starstruck smile plays with your features.

And with that, you’re absolutely terrified.

Throwing the polaroid picture onto the bedside table and lunging yourself into the sheets, you scream into your pillow and wish for the feelings to disappear– because in what world does a crush on your brother’s best friend ever come to a happy ending?

OCTOBER OF 1999

Once October hits, you find yourself home alone more often than you’d like. Sure, you don’t mind having some me time to read comic books or watch the TV uninterrupted in the living room, but still– alone turns lonely pretty quickly, and somehow, you start to regret the fact that you’ve been relying on your older brother and his friends for so long instead of making some connections on your own.

Sunwoo started to play soccer at school– something is telling you that he might go far if he keeps it up– and that’s why he’s been stuck at practice every single day, coming home late in the evening all tired, but happy, so you’re not really complaining. Eric works in the little bistro downtown now, since he wanted to make some money and not rely on the allowance Mrs. Sohn gives him every month, and it’s not like you were that close to begin with, but the fact that the boy is now too busy to meet you is making your spirit fall just the tiniest bit. And with your mother always being at work, you find yourself alone in your room, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling.

Sometimes, you journal. About anything and everything, really. You don’t really think you’re ever gonna read back the entries once you’re older, since they would just be a reminder of how miserable and boring your teenage years really were, and that’s why you allow yourself to be authentic. On most days, you write about your assignments for school. Sometimes you bad mouth a classmate or two– gossiping with the diary pages, because you don’t really have any human beings to do so in real life– and seldom, you allow yourself to get into topics that evoke the slightest bits of existential crisis in you.

Topics like college. Growing up. Your lack of hobbies and social interaction with the outer world. The newly found crush on Eric Sohn…

Okay, maybe you do write about the boy with brown hair and dark eyes a little too often. You can’t help it, though– when he’s not giving you any new interactions to dwell on, you have to just pick apart the old ones. You think it’s a natural reaction.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing one October afternoon, the lamp in your room on, since the evening comes faster when the weather is colder, as you’re laying in your bed and kicking your feet back and forth, chewing on the end of your pencil. The sound of your doorbell resonates through the house suddenly and startles you, making you jump awake from your delirious delusions.

Mentally going through the list of possible visitors you could have– because it can’t be your mother or your brother, since they never forget to carry their house keys– you’re lost, not really finding any fitting candidates. Furrowing your brows, lost in thought and frankly, a bit confused, you plant your socked feet onto the wooden floor and walk over to the front door just in time for the bell to ring again. Scratching the back of your neck in nerves, thinking of precautions you could take for your own safety– since your front door doesn’t have a peep hole and you don’t want to open the door to a complete stranger– you clear your throat and yell over the door.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“Delivery!” a voice calls through the door, making you huff.

“I didn’t order any food?” you yell back, confused. “Sir, there’s another house behind ours, sometimes the mailmen get confused and we get their mail. Maybe try there?”

“The address is right, though?” the voice calls again, and somehow, it sounds kind of familiar… no, it can’t be, you dumb goose. You’re just imagining things because you’ve spent the last 20 minutes writing about the curve of his nose into your diary.

“There must be a mistake-”

“Come on, Y/N, open the door,” the voice on the other side mourns, the mention of your name making you jump, completely startled. The tone the man says it in is sweet like honey, though, so familiar in your ears, that you mentally want to slap yourself– so you weren’t dreaming. It is him.

Dragging your hand through your hair to smooth it down, praying you look at least a little presentable– although in your stained sweatpants and the Pokémon shirt you inherited from Sunwoo when he grew out of it, you doubt that’s even possible– you open the door and try to offer Eric a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Food delivery,” Eric shrugs, pointing with his thumb in the direction behind his back, where his bike undoubtedly stands up against your gate.

“Oh…. but I already told you I didn’t order anything,” you mumble, confused. Studying his face– because a girl can indulge when she has the opportunity, am I right? – you notice his hair has grown a little longer, falling into his eyes. You bet it’s hard for him to see, but you must admit it looks nice, and you almost tell him, before you catch yourself and break away from the sentiment.

The male snickers. “I know, I was just joking,” he says, “I did bring you food, though.”

“Why?” you ask, confused when he bends over and picks up a plastic bag off the ground, a container of food inside, the warmth of the contents making condensation appear all over the red sack.

“We made this by mistake and it was just gonna be thrown out if nobody took it,” he shrugs, “and I figured you haven’t eaten yet– or if you did, you just had those cold kimbap rolls from the store– and I wanted to get some warm food into your stomach.”

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding at the explanation. It does explain the source of the food really well, but truthfully, it explains nothing about the fact why Eric thought of bringing you the food instead of taking it home with himself– he’s a foodie if you’ve ever seen one. The idea of him worrying about if you were fed or not is equally as strange and interesting in your head– still, you clasp your hand around the bag and take it, the smell making you involuntarily hungry. “Thank you.”

Eric only nods at you, a smile beaming at his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I’d love to stay longer and hang out, but I’m still on the clock, so…” he mumbles, taking a hesitant step backwards towards his bike, eyes never breaking contact with yours.

“Oh, right,” you nod, “that’s okay. Have a fun day at work!” you muse, watching him as he grins and finally retrieves back his bike, opening up the gate to your property and escaping, waving at you as he gets on.

“I’ll see you soon!” he calls as he rides off, your eyes following him until his figure disappears behind a corner, your ears buzzing with excitement and your lower lip trapped between your teeth with the innocent promise.

Walking back into the house, you grin as you close the front door behind you and carry the food into the kitchen. You quickly get the containers out of the damp bag, putting them onto the wooden table, and gasp when you find a sticky note on the very top one, a messy handwriting scribbled in a rush, but stuck to the food with care.

Eat well and don’t skip meals, Y/N-ie!! – Eric x

Not being able to battle your smile anymore, you decide to open up the containers and stuff your mouth with the food instead– only to find your favorite dish inside, staring back at you in what seems to be a dream that’s too good to wake up from.

And sure, you are delusional, but are you delusional enough to believe that this wasn’t all a coincidence? You’re not so sure.

Still, you eat the food with feet kicking back and forth as you sit in the silent kitchen, the empty house no longer feeling so lonely. When you’re done, you throw the trash out– everything but the sticky note, which you glue into your diary a few minutes later, hoping to keep the memory forever.

NOVEMBER OF 1999

The world around you is dark as you step outside of cram school, your eyes are tired and your skin is prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. You despise going to cram school, but your mother told you you have to– since you didn’t have any athletic features that could get you far in life like Sunwoo, you had to be good at studying, or else you won’t get into university. There was a lot of work ahead of you, but since you didn’t really have anything else to do in the day, you didn’t protest and went anyway.

The days are usually very long and you get off very late, resulting in you being tired almost all the time. When you get home, you undress yourself and change into your sleep clothes and doze off until the morning, when you have to wake up and go to school again– it’s an exhausting cycle, but you know you have to endure it for your own sake.

Walking down the steps that lead out the cram school building, you stretch your body and huff, cursing at yourself for the fact that you didn’t bring a jacket– you forgot that evenings get really chilly, and frankly speaking, you didn’t have much time to think when you were rushing to get ready in the morning. You’ll just have to get through it, you think to yourself as you walk in the direction of your house– the last bus to your neighborhood already left an hour ago, when you were in the middle of revising division– your sneakers kicking the stray rocks below your feet as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie lower, desperately trying to feel more heat.

“Do you never watch where you’re going? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day, you know,” you hear a familiar voice say, the joking tone making your heart skip a few beats as you place the owner of the saccharine voice to its face. Looking up, slightly alarmed at being caught in such a distressed state, you gasp.

“I was… watching my step, I guess,” you shrug as you come into a halt in front of him, shivering both under Eric’s gaze and the cold weather at once. “What are you doing here? Deliveries?”

“I just got off,” he says, “so I figured I could stop by. Sunwoo said you’re going to cram school, I thought you might enjoy some company on your way home.”

Gaping at his explanation, you nod, completely startled. The idea of your brother talking about you in front of Eric, the boy you have a very embarrassing, very big crush on scares you, to say the least. See, it doesn’t really matter that the boy grew up with you, pretty much seeing you at your lowest whenever he was around over at your house when you were both just little kids– the image of Sunwoo telling Eric about finding you sobbing at your comic book (the scene got too sad, nobody can really blame you) or about how your favorite jeans ripped right before you had to go to school one morning is terrifying. You don’t really want him to know about these things. He may act like your brother sometimes, but you never really saw him in that light in the first place.

“Well, then,” you clear your throat, “it’s… it’s good to see you,” you say. Eric shows you his boyish grin as your lips utter out the words, and you can’t help but mirror it, your eyes locking with the male. As if you just took a step back, your eyes see him in a light you’ve never seen him before– as if this was your first time meeting your brother’s best friend– and something about the sentiment has your stomach feeling all uneasy, heat rushing to your face. His hair is styled in a way that tells you that he didn’t really style it (or if he did, it looked truly effortless in your eyes, so props to him), pushed back a little and revealing his forehead, a few of the strands carelessly falling into his eyes. His jawline is sharper than how it was when you first met the boy, and with the realization of a foolish teenage girl, you have to admit that Eric Sohn grew up to be a very attractive, attentive man.

“You’re cold?” he says, although the sentence sounds more like a statement rather than a question, before he shakes his head at your antics and heaves out a sigh. “You should’ve taken a jacket with you when you went, you know it gets cold in the evening,” he scolds you. In those times, he reminds you the most of your brother– because although you and Sunwoo act like you hate each other sometimes, you know the older male still cares about you. He just hates showing it, which translates in his scolding tone whenever you do something wrong or against his wishes.

In those times, Eric reminds you the most of the way your brother treats you, and you somehow hate it. You despise the fact, because that means he must only see you as someone like his younger sister– he never had one, so maybe he just likes to compensate for it by taking care of you all the time. Maybe he feels responsible to do so because of Sunwoo. The thought makes you equally as nauseous– you’d never want him to hang out with you just because he feels like he has to.

“I didn’t have time in the morning,” you grunt, rolling your eyes at him. You avert your gaze from the male, for it makes you slightly uncomfortable after your previous thoughts, so when the noise of a zipper being pulled down and the weight of fabric on your shoulders brings you back to reality, you snap your head around at him all alarmed.

“What? Wear it,” he says, head shrugging towards the direction of his jacket on your figure. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t.”

Trying to wrestle out of the red material, you squirm in the hold of the windbreaker– Eric’s hands gripping each side of the jacket, as if predicting your next moves, making sure it stays on you and doesn’t fall down. His strong arms tug you closer to him to make your fight more difficult– and he’s successful with his efforts, because the proximity of him and his smell engulfs you and unarms you, heat rushing to your cheeks as you halt in your movements.

“Stop,” you mourn, “I don’t need it.”

“Yes you do,” he insists, “so stop being a baby about it and wear it.”

Staring into his eyes, as if to mentally tell him to stop what he’s doing– to stop how he’s treating you, how he’s making you all weak in your knees and sleepless at nights because of how much you think of him and hope he’s doing well each day, to stop being so gentle with you and taking care of you, because it brings all sorts of both doubts and delusions into your head– but he doesn’t back down. You’ve known him for quite some time, you should already be aware of just how stubborn he can be.

“Arms in,” he hums, holding on to the jacket and waiting for you to wear it properly. One thing about you– you can always admit your defeat. So, with a sigh, you put your arms through the sleeves of Eric’s red windbreaker, shrinking a little under his firm gaze. He looks at you with a look full of something you can’t decipher, and it’s all making you so, so insanely lost in the many thoughts and feelings swirling around your head, not helping your current state.

“I already have a brother, y’know,” you mumble in a moment of weakness, looking at your feet– your dirty white sneakers almost touching his from how close you are standing right now, “so you should stop treating me like one.”

A moment of silence overtakes you two, and you suddenly feel like you’ve done something wrong. Still, Eric’s hands are holding on to the sides of the opened jacket, keeping you close to him. “Hm?”

Clearing your throat and shaking your head, you snicker to yourself. “Forget it.”

“No- I mean,” he blurts out, tone of voice a little nervous, “do you see me as your brother figure?” he asks, tone of voice more quiet now, more gentle.

Breathing in the crispy air, taking a moment before you reply, you shake your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “no, I don’t. I- I don’t think I do,” you say, scared of what your answer will bring out of him. You don’t really know why, but at this moment, you feel insanely fragile– as if any bad move could make you break in his hands, waiting for him to glue you back together.

Metaphorically, he does just that. “Good,” he nods, leaning down towards you, hands gripping the zipper of his jacket and zipping it together, making sure no cold can get to your bones as his fingers tug it up towards the very top, under your chin. “Because I’ve never seen you as my sister either.”

His answer once again startles you– but when you take a step back from the situation, you think it was in a good way. His hands grip your shoulders for a second as his eyes meet yours and he offers you a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he says, tugging you towards the fence where you find his bike, his motions guiding you like a rag doll sucked out of all life.

“Hop in,” he motions towards the back of the bike, where the basket would usually be– Eric moved it towards the front, though, leaving enough room for you to sit at– and as you do, he takes a seat in front of you and looks back at you over his shoulder. “Hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

Like in a trance, your arms sneak around his middle– this was the first time you had this kind of physical touch with him, and just the thought of it makes you want to scream your throat out– before the male takes off on the bike, riding towards your neighborhood. With the cold wind slapping your face, you foolishly rest your cheek on his shoulder blade and close your eyes, enjoying the closeness of his body keeping you warm.

If anyone asked you about the action, you’d tell them you were just tired.

DECEMBER OF 1999

Socked feet make their way through the room, the sound of footsteps resonating on the laminated floor, as the short male comes up to you with a bowl of potato chips in his right hand and a bottle of soda under his left arm. Eric Sohn sighs at you, shaking his head in disbelief, before he places the items onto the coffee table and takes a seat next to you on the floor, opening up the bottle and pouring the three of you drinks.

“Can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you losers, of all people,” Eric snickers, having you roll your eyes at the male and grumpily furrow your eyebrows at his sentence.

“No one’s stopping you if you wanna go, y’know,” you grunt as you take the filled glass off the table, taking a sip of the sweet drink and sighing at him. If he’s gonna take a leap into the new year with you while making you annoyed, he may as well leave now and do whatever his initial plan was– once again, no one’s stopping him if that’s what he wants to do.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it would’ve been so much more fun if we all went to Juyeon hyung’s. Everyone’s there celebrating, but we’re stuck here in your room.”

“Well, Eric,” your brother smiles ironically at him, shrugging to himself, “it’s not like it’s my fault you’re not over at Juyeon hyung’s right now. You chose to spend the new years here with me. My mother prohibited me from going there, not yours.”

The argument has the male shrug, his eyes averting your brother’s gaze once his comment gets a bit too honest and realistic. It’s true and he’s right– it’s not like Eric’s mum told him he can’t go celebrate with his friends, because she didn’t. Eric’s mum trusts him and wants him to have fun and do what all the kids his age are doing. Your mum, on the other hand, is making you and Sunwoo stay home for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with your family, because, as she quoted, New Year’s Eve the only time she gets time off work, and she wants to spend it with her kids– forget the fact that you’re currently sitting locked in your room with your friend, protesting the family time just because you can– and when Sunwoo told her she has to stop treating him like a little kid, she told him she has all the right to do so, because he is her kid. And that’s how the party he was supposed to attend with Eric (the party you foolishly thought you’re gonna have to tag along to, not hating the sentiment as much as before now) got canceled from your brother’s plans.

“Well,” Eric chews on the inside of his cheek, “I did it for you two. Be grateful.”

“Whatever,” you hum, “let’s turn on the TV. I bet there’s some variety show on.”

Eric heaves out a sigh as he reaches for the TV remote, clicking the power button and making the boxy device in front of you light up. Your mum got you a TV in your room when you complained about being too bored one November day, and although the box of entertainment didn’t really help like you imagined it to, you’re glad it’s of service at least today. Instead of the expected variety show, though, there’s news on– the face of the old announcer looking at you with a serious look on his face, the professional tone making chills run down your spine, for he reminds you a bit of your mother when she scolds you. You think that’s a common news announcer trait.

“As the year 2000 approaches, computer programmers realize that computers might not interpret the 00 in the software as 2000, but 1900. The softwares currently running only use a two-digit code for the year, excluding the 19. The data was excluded because the data storage is costly and takes up too much space. Activities that were planned on a daily basis could be damaged or flawed,” the announcer says, making the three of you look at the screen with interest. Maybe it’s true that when you get older, you get more interested in news– you think it’s good to know what’s going on around you, although the topic discussed right now might not even concern you in the slightest.

“Banks, which calculate the interest rates on a daily basis, could face real problems. Interest rates are the amount of money a lender, such as a bank, charges a customer, such as an individual or business, for a loan. Instead of the rate of interest for one day, the computer could calculate a rate of interest for minus almost 100 years!”

“Oops,” Eric lets out next to you, a reaction so far away from what a real adult would think of the situation. See, you are all just kids, after all.

“Centers of technology, such as power plants, are also threatened by this issue. Power plants depend on routine computer maintenance for safety checks, such as water pressure or radiation levels. Not having the correct date could throw off these calculations and possibly put nearby residents at risk,” the announcer continues, the information coming out of his mouth suddenly making you hyper aware of the reality you’re experiencing right now.

“Do we have a nuclear power plant nearby?” you ask in a hushed whisper, watching as the men next to you almost comically widen their eyes, shrugging.

“I’m not sure,” Sunwoo peeps.

“The worst of all, this software and hardware issue could cause such a big problem in nuclear energy facilities, where nuclear bombs and missiles could be set off, causing the world to go into utter chaos, or worse, an end,” the announcer concludes, the last word making you gasp in terror.

“An end?” you chirp, sitting up straight in your seat as you look at the two men, now equally as terrified. There’s something in Sunwoo’s gaze that makes chills run down your spine, the reality crushing down on you with heavy measures.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fought with mum. What if the last words the two of us exchanged before we die are the harsh words I had said yesterday?” your brother mourns, seeing as his best friend chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought.

“What did you say to your mum?”

“That- that I’ll never forgive her for ruining this for me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking at the end, “and… other things,” he adds, the hint of incoming panic making his best friend frantically wave his hands around and try to make your brother relax before he has to deal with the breakdown. If the world is ending, this is not how any of you want to go.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Eric says, clearing his throat and pointing to the TV, “look! The show is on, we should watch before the year ends,” he proposes, taking the remote into his hand and turning the volume up to hopefully drown out Sunwoo’s thoughts and have him focus on something else. And it works– noting that your brother has an attention span of a 5 year old– he can hardly remember what he was worrying about just 30 seconds ago.

Still, the thought keeps bouncing around your head like a child in a bouncy castle. The words of the news anchor keep repeating in your brain, making your ears ring as you look at Eric from the corner of your eye, watching his angelic face. Oh how you hate disturbing the peace now that you’ve all calmed down– but still, you can’t deal with the worries alone. Checking the clock hung above the TV, noticing there’s at least 5 minutes left before midnight, you clear your throat, feeling your whole body on fire.

“Do you really think the world is gonna end?” you ask, cracking your knuckles in a nervous manner. Looking at Eric, pupils shaking, you find your brother’s best friend seemingly lost in thought. The music of the variety show program serves you three as a background sound now, none of you paying attention to the TV anymore, instead, focusing on all the things you've done wrong in your life and how somehow, this feels like karma for all of it.

“I dunno,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I mean- they said it’s possible! It was on the news, and they wouldn’t lie on the news…” he nervously mumbles, scratching the back of his head.

“That’s what’s worrying me,” you sigh, “we shouldn’t have turned on the TV.”

“It was your idea in the first place!”

“And I’ll carry the burden into my grave,” you admit, gulping as you press a forced smile onto your lips.

Momentarily looking back at the TV, you desperately want to keep the thought of the world being over out of your head before you spend your last minutes on this earth going crazy– but now that you started, you can’t keep thinking about it. “Man, the world can’t end yet. There’s so many things I haven’t tried yet! I’m too young to die!”

The men don't reply to that– you presume they’re too busy trying to find other things to occupy themselves with instead of the inevitable– which has you dissatisfied as you throw your body back into the sofa, heaving out a sigh. Seconds go by painfully slow but also painfully fast at the same time, given the circumstances, as you listen to the cheerful song playing in the background and nudge your friend into his upper arm with your pointer finger, feeling his arm encircle your shoulders and pull you closer to him. The contact of his fingers on your upper arm makes you squirm and break out into a smile, feeling a particular lightness in your stomach at the action, a sensation that has you in shock.

“I’m gonna talk with mum before we die,” Sunwoo suddenly calls as he stands up from his seat on the floor, sighing to himself, “I can’t go with the thought of her being upset with me,” he sentimentally adds before he’s out of the door, rushing towards the living room.

The space falls into momentary silence now that your brother is gone, having you chew on your bottom lip with nerves. You think now is the time to beg for forgiveness with the higher forces– I'm sorry for not studying well. I'm sorry for being rude and ungrateful towards my mum. I'm sorry for being greedy– when the sound of Eric’s voice resonates through the place as he speaks up again, waking you up from the anxious slumber, the clock now striking 2 minutes before midnight. “What would you wanna do before you die?” he asks.

The question is simple. You presume he wants simple answers– things like getting into college, getting a good job and making a lot of money, growing old– but as you lean away from him and get back to your place on his left, your eyes locked with his, you’re left clueless. There are so many things you have yet to achieve, and the idea of not being able to pushes a burden to your chest, but at this very moment, you can’t really name one.

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes scan his face. His firm eye contact has you a bit flustered, making you shrivel in your seat, and as the sound of the TV morphs from the song into a countdown from 55, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that your friend is insanely pretty– and he always has been, you just hated admitting it to yourself for the past few months, despite still being fully aware– and that now, when the world ends, you’re dying unkissed and alone.

Well, not completely alone, since Eric’s here. And he’s always been here– your whole life, since you can remember, and he’s here now as well, even though he should’ve been at Juyeon’s house. As the clock strikes 30 seconds away from midnight, your eyes involuntarily travel down to his chapped lips, all air knocked out of your lungs, the thoughts in your brain picking up on speed the closer you come to the end.

You’re dying soon. You’re dying in 30- now 29 seconds, and you’ve never kissed anyone before. You’re dying before you get a chance to hold hands with someone and have a partner, and you’re dying before you get a chance to tell Eric how you feel about him. There’s 28 seconds left until the end and you’re just staring at him like a coward, because you don’t really let yourself indulge in the silly warmth of your heart whenever you’re around your friend, but god, you can at least admit it to yourself before you die.

And as the clock gets closer and closer to midnight, now only giving you 20 seconds before it all ends and a missile lands on the top of your house, blowing up the whole town and making you all disappear, Eric’s question repeats itself in your brain. What would you want to do before you die?

The answer is suddenly painfully clear as you take action– leaning towards the boy on your right, face closer to his than it’s ever been before, your eyes counting all his eyelashes and focusing on his surprised, yet unmoving face– and as you hear the countdown reach 15, you close your eyes and press your lips against his.

The contact makes you weak in your knees as your hands reach to his face to steady him, your own firework show erupting in your stomach, and suddenly you’re completely content with dying tonight– because at least you’re with Eric, at least you did something. You kiss your friend with something close to an unsaid confession, your lips staying on his throughout the rest of the countdown, the taste of soda you’ve both been drinking the whole evening mixing in the contact of your skin. You’re not sure you’re even doing this right– again, you’ve never kissed anyone before– but it doesn’t matter to you much as you let go of your worries, aware of the fact that in a few seconds, nothing will matter anymore when neither of you are going to be around to say anything to each other after the kiss is over.

The countdown rings in your ears– coming down from 5 as you scoot yourself closer to Eric, 4 as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones, 3 as you still in your movements, 2 as you notice your knees bumping into each other on the ground and finally, 1 as you get ready to die, kissing your first and only love– when the sound of cheers and fireworks from the TV fills your ears instead, the world around you stilling and completely unchanged.

Your kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000. Your love for him passed a century.

Eyes fluttering open and your mouth letting go of his, the image of the boy with his lips slightly parted, eyes closed and cheeks rosy comes to you in the yellow light of your room, making your heart fall down to your stomach. He looks absolutely angelic, his hair slightly messy and the fabric of his shirt a little disheveled in the front, and even though you’d love to indulge in your foolish desires and kiss him some more, you’re quickly taken aback with the noise of the door to your room opening and making you jump away from Eric, your brother appearing out of thin air in the presence of your room. It serves you like a weird kind of reality check, Eric’s eyes opening and looking at your brother, and even though you two haven’t been caught, the male clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip, looking almost guilty.

Oh no. What have you done?

Suddenly, you feel insanely silly.

JANUARY OF 2000

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole day,” Sunwoo mumbles from beside you, his whole body engulfed in a pile of snow, “not that I care, but are you okay?”

“I thought you liked it when I don’t talk,” you mutter, playing with the frozen white all around you, seated on the red plastic sled at the top of the hill. You got tired after dragging it up from the bottom, and when you noticed that the rest of Sunwoo’s friends– Eric included– are still on their way up, you figured you could use up the time to relax and sit around for a while. It’s been quite some time since all of Sunwoo’s friends gathered to hang out at the same time, which made you surprised to see that your own brother invited you to tag along with them as they decided to go sledding on the second day of January, using up their break to best of their abilities. Which is also why you didn’t say no to the invitation– you thought sitting at home and moping around wouldn’t help you much.

“I do,” he says, nodding, “that’s why I’m asking what’s up– so I know what to do when I need to shut you up later,” Sunwoo hums, making you roll your eyes at the masked worry.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you scoff. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “so you’re just going through puberty?” he teases, to which you take a handful of snow into your palm and lunge the white at him, satisfaction running through your veins when the snowball lands into his unsuspecting face, the male coughing and swatting his arms around to defend himself.

“Hey!” your brother screams at you once he gets the ice out of his eyes and his mouth, his body jumping into a standing position before he chases you around, the bubble of a laugh escaping your throat for the first time these days– they’re not wrong when they say malicious joy is the best kind of joy.

Running at the top of the hill, not really looking where you’re going– instead looking over your shoulder to see Sunwoo’s actions, preparing yourself to duck if he decides to turn your small quarrel into a snow fight– your legs get tangled with the red sled you left before you started a war with the angered man, a yelp cutting out of your throat as you get prepared to fall over and knock your teeth out.

Your body comes in contact with something half-firm, half-soft, and as your feet slip and the snow-covered ground disappears from below your legs, two arms wrap around your waist and steady you, making sure you don’t get hurt.

Turns out Eric Sohn is there to catch you every time you are about to eat shit. You hate this kind of deja vu.

As you open your eyes (that you had closed on instinct, not wanting to see your own death) once you’re sure you’re safe and sound, the world around you invites itself into your ears in an overwhelming noise. The laughter of Sunwoo’s friends– some hollering at your fall, some at the redness and last remains of snow covering your brother’s face– and the hushed arguments over who’s going down first– with Haknyeon screaming that he’s stealing Sunwoo’s (yours) sled and Juyeon following him. After all those happening in the matter of a few seconds, you realize you’re left on the top of the hill alone with the male, terror shaking through your insides.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back from him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and avert your gaze from Eric. You two haven’t spoken since you decided to kiss him on New Year’s Eve, and with the awkward tension in the air, you don’t feel like doing so ever again in your whole entire life.

“Thanks,” still, you hum.

Eric seems a little more light-hearted than you, shrugging as he replies to you. “Haven’t I told you to start watching where you’re going?”

“I’m not good with listening sometimes,” you mutter, huffing. Taking a look around yourself– noticing that there are no sleds left on the top of the hill, therefore, if you wanted to escape the situation, the only way down would be to roll around like a human version of a snowman, you once again admit your defeat, standing around nervously and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

The silence is uncomfortable. It makes you want to dig a hole in the snow and bury yourself alive, to suffocate under the weight of the icy cold and never see Eric’s face again. You know that you ruined whatever friendship you had with the male– by being stupid and foolish, not really thinking about consequences (because there were supposed to be none and you were supposed to be dead), and the weight of the guilt makes you want to puke and hide away.

Still, Eric comes out of his way to talk to you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised– he should be disgusted with you. Realistically, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around.“They’re gonna take long to walk back up,” he notes, “wanna get hot chocolate with me?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with the overwhelming white of the hill.

“Come on,” he sighs, “it’s just around the corner. They built a hot chocolate stand because they knew kids would come sledding here. Honestly, it’s an astute business tactic, but I promise the hot chocolate actually tastes nice,” he says, nudging you slightly with his arm, as if to make you look at him and change your mind.

“Thanks, but no,” you definitely say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks, tone of voice casual– as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing ever happened and he was genuinely curious about the reasoning behind your actions.

“I’m not, I just don’t really like hot chocolate,” you sheepishly mutter, trying hard to avoid the topic.

“So you are avoiding me,” he hums, as if it wasn’t obvious before– and not only because you’re a bad liar. Plus, you love hot chocolate. Somehow, you think Eric knows.

“Look, Eric,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “can’t you just drop it?”

“No,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “and that’s why we’re talking about the reason why you’re avoiding me over a cup of hot chocolate. Let’s go.”

His persistence is terribly overwhelming sometimes. You wonder how the male does it. “I already told you-”

“You owe me for the stickers and the meal and everything,” he corners you, and you know you can’t argue with that. He’s kind of right, you suppose– you never paid him back for all the chocolates or for the free meal he brought you that one evening. And that’s exactly why you find yourself sighing as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself for the talk.

You hate how he can always get his way. Walking up to the stand, you crack your knuckles in the pocket of your jacket, nervously coming up with possible arguments to tell him. I didn’t kiss you on purpose, it was an accident. I only did it to know how it feels. We are both supposed to be dead, it’s not my fault the world didn’t end like it was supposed to! Each sentence sounds more stupid than the previous one, and so with that, you shake your head, wiping the thoughts away, smiling at the elderly lady in the stand. You’re just gonna have to be honest, you figure.

“Two hot chocolates, please.”

Rummaging through your pockets to find your wallet– you do owe Eric, so it’s only natural for you to pay– you’re caught off guard as the male next to you swiftly takes out his own and unzips it, preparing to pay for you.

“I thought I owed you?” you mumble, hand reaching to tug at his forearm to stop him, to which Eric only grins at you and sighs.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to pay,” he says.

“I think that’s exactly what that means.”

“Just take it,” he huffs as he brings out a note from his wallet, the force making something else fly out and fall to the ground with it, having the boy swiftly crouch down and pick the item up, attempting to hide it before you get a chance to see. And now, you don’t have 20/20 vision, but you recognise your face when you see it– that, and you also recognize the small white sheet to be a polaroid picture, and as far as you’re aware, you’re the only one who has a camera in his circle.

The boy hands you the drink with red-tinted cheeks. The idea of him carrying a picture of you that he took back in September makes you flush as well, and when your gloved fingers accidentally meet as you take the cup from him, he forces out a laugh. “We can talk about that after you tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

His nonchalance has you relaxing only for a few seconds. The boy walks with you as you try to heat up your cold hands on the boiling surface of the cup, and when you see a bench a few meters away from you two, you instinctively take a seat.

“So?” he becomes you, eyebrows rising as he takes a sip from the melted sweetness.

Sighing, you try to come up with the best way to go around this. Do you apologize? Do you promise to never do it again– and you won’t, even though you want to so badly and his lips look surprisingly soft today? Furrowing your brows at the war in your head, you place the cup on the bench next to you and put your head into your hands, hiding away from him when you realize the only way to do this is to be completely, utterly honest.

“I’m just so embarrassed, Eric.”

The only noise meeting your eardrums in the moment is the faint yelling of the crowd sledding in the background, your companion remaining quiet for a bit. When he sees you won’t explain yourself, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Why?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” you sigh, not believing his so casual composure.

“Maybe,” he laughs, the airy sound taking all breath away from your lungs.

Well, not all of it, since you have enough oxygen to go on a tangent, it seems. “Because I kissed you, goddamnit. And- and I don’t even know why I did it, honestly, I’ve never thought of kissing you before! It’s just- when I heard the world is ending, I realized I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and that just felt like such a miserable way to die, and then you asked what I wanted to do before I die and I couldn’t think of anything else,” you say, progressively taking out your head from your hands and facing the male, big eyes staring into his soul.

To your surprise, he doesn’t seem mad. Or disgusted. Or any of the reactions you expected, really. Eric stares at you with a soft, but amidst a little star-struck look in his eyes, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of every slight shift in his composure.

“Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me, or because you thought the world was gonna end?” he asks, awaiting your answer.

And if you’re being honest, 2 days after New Year’s Eve, you do admit the thought of the world actually ending sounds a bit stupid. Why did you even believe that theory? Why did they talk about it so seriously on the news? They tricked you into ruining your own life.

But still, nothing can be done about it now. “Both,” you admit, shrugging, “I… I kissed you because I really didn’t want to die unkissed, but also… I wanted it to be you, y’know? Like… I thought we were really going to die, and so I thought kissing you might be a nice way to go. I really wanted to spend my last moments with you, I guess,” you sheepishly say, averting your gaze from the male.

Eric offers you his silence again after you’re done explaining. While you do admit you feel a little tense to hear what he has to say, you also realize you feel lighter now that it’s out in the universe and out of your system. A major weight was taken off your shoulders with the confession, and suddenly, you’re kind of glad that your friend was so assertive and insistent on talking about this– who knows how long you’d go before managing to face him. You think you could honestly go on… forever.

Taking a sip of the luscious liquid, you feel your body warm up once the anxiousness slips away from your bones. The boy next to you hums, making you face him with expecting eyes. “Then why were you avoiding me?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “I just told you. I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s bad at listening.”

“No,” he laughs, “that’s still you. Because if you were good at listening, you’d remember me telling you that I’ve never once seen you as my younger sister.”

Shrugging, kicking the pile of snow in front of you with the tip of your winter boots, you’re not quite following. “So?”

“So you should’ve realized that I’m not doing all of this,” he theatrically swings his arms around, “for nothing, you know?”

“All of what?”

“Taking care of you. Feeding you, helping you collect those stupid animal stickers, walking you home…” he mumbles, sighing. “Keeping your picture in my wallet,” he adds with a playful tone, making you smile.

“I thought you were just being a good friend,” you shrug.

“I don’t keep a picture of your brother on me at all times,” he says, tugging off his gloves. The sleeve of his jacket rides up a little as you watch him take his cup of hot chocolate off the bench, surprised (and flooded with warmth) to see the ugly friendship bracelet you made still adorning his wrist.

Grinning to yourself, excitement welcoming itself into the tips of your fingertips, you shrug. “So?” you mirror your own question from a little while ago, wanting him to say it to you instead of relying on your own brain– you think there’s still a possibility of you just being too delusional to see the reality for what it really is. You need to make sure you’re not imagining things.

“So,” he starts, sighing to himself as he turns a little in his seat to face you, “you should stop avoiding me, because I liked the kiss. And you. And we should probably do it again, because I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back the first time,” he says, once again taking all oxygen out of your lungs with the casualty of his preposition.

Locking his eyes with you, having you two staring at each other like two rays of sunshine warming up the cold January, he grins. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” you breathe out, “very good.”

The male takes it as an invitation as he scoots himself closer to you on the bench, his body turning a bit to face you. His free hand cups your cheek, leaning closer to lock his lips with you like he asked you to, your eyes fluttering close at the proximity, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach already expecting to kiss him again. The situation feels a little too idyllic to be real, though– you should’ve expected it to get ruined again.

Something cold and wet comes into contact with the side of your face, and when you sharply open your eyes, you see Eric staring at you with shock and terror in his eyes, the snow dripping down the side of his face as well. Whoever threw the snowball has good aim, you think– managing to target two people at once (even though your faces were that close to each other that it probably wasn’t even that hard), and before you get a chance to look around and see who cut off your kiss, there’s a scream coming from the left side of the two of you, the sound of feet quickly darting in the snow landing into your ears.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” the voice hollers, and before you get a chance to react, the said male fastly stands up from the bench and runs to the other direction, laughter resonating all throughout the place as Sunwoo and his friends chase their shortest friend down.

Snow starts falling as you watch your brother tail his childhood friend, and with a foreign sense of warmth, you get reminded of the birthday wish you made while blowing out the candles on your seventh birthday.

You wished for someone just like Eric. You didn’t know the universe would be so kind to give you him instead.

#bjnet #the boyz #eric sohn #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #tbz fluff #eric sohn fluff #eric fluff #eric x reader #eric sohn x reader #tbz scenario #tbz fic #the boyz scenario #the boyz fluff #the boyz imagines #sohn youngjae #youngjae x reader

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deltaharrington · 1 year

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MR. CEO [18+]

DREW STARKEY X FEMALE! READER

SUMMARY: Drew Starkey, the owner of Starkey Co. finds you, a clumsy intern, intriguing.

WARNINGS: 18+ THEMES!, fingering, older (7 years) guy x younger (19) girl.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this!!

“I’m so sorry!” Drew heard for what felt like the millionth time that day. It was that clumsy intern again. She had either run into someone or done something wrong.

Drew couldn’t understand why she hadn’t learned how to do her job properly yet. It wasn’t that hard. Unless someone was making it that way.

“Ms. L/n, my office” Drew said after opening the door to his office.

At the sound of his voice, he could see you tense up in fear. He wasn’t that scary. Was he?

“It’s nothing bad” He added and you seemed to relax after that, making him smile a bit to himself.

Upon walking into his office, you could smell Drew’s strong cologne. You didn’t mind it, but you couldn’t overlook it as he was practically dripping in the attractive smell.

His office was large, one way glass surrounding it. He could see out, but no one could see in. It was a smart idea. His desk was placed behind a small lounging areas with two couches and a coffee table. A small kitchen was too the left that had a sink and the utilities to make hot drinks.

You sat down in the chair in front of his desk, your knee bouncing as you waited for him to speak. Drew took in your outfit as he watched your nervous nature. ‘Fucking classic’ He thought to himself.

You were wearing a white blouse, the top few buttons being opened, allowing a small glimpse at your cleavage. A tight black pencil skirt accompanied it, the material riding upwards on your thighs as you sat down.

You looked like you came straight out of a porno.

“If this is about my behavior today, I’m sorry” You said quickly and Drew was stunned “I had a rough morning and I feel like my day has been getting worse” You added and he watched you try to cover your tracks desperately.

“Have you been trained?” He asked and you looked confused. “Has your manager trained you any?”

You gulped at the mention of your manager. He had been trying to get into your pants the moment you started there. When you refused him, he decided to make your job hell. You were afraid to tell Drew that.

“Mr. Starkey, I’ve been trained properly” You said. Lie. “I’ve just had a bad day, I promise it won’t happen again” You said and avoided his eyes. You were afraid he’d be able to sniff out your lie.

Drew paused, standing from his desk. He made his way to you. “Don’t lie to me” He said lowly and you jumped in fear.

“I…” You started but he tilted his head. His hand reached up to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me the truth” He said. God damn he was hot. He wore a white button up with a black coat on top and black slacks to match. A small chain hung from his neck as he moved to grip each side of the chair you sat in, blocking you in.

And so, you told him everything. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He was livid. Drew couldn’t believe one of his employees tried to sexually touch an intern. Drew thought you were very attractive yes, and rightfully so. He was closer to your age than a nasty old manager in his sixties.

“You’re 19, yes?” He asked through gritted teeth. You thought he was angry with you.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I can change my clothes or-“ You started but he cut you off.

“This is NOT your fault, okay? If he tried to touch you and you said no, he shouldn’t take that out on you at work of all places” He said. “Stay here” He ordered and moved to leave his office.

When Drew came back, he brought with him your manager. You tensed up.

“Now, tell me why…” Drew started and chewed out your manager, firing the man on the spot. You were shocked. He stormed out soon after his termination and you looked like you had just seen a ghost.

“Mr. Starkey..” You started.

“Drew, call me Drew” He said and you nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that, I can fight my own battles” You said to him.

“Clearly not” He added and sighed max shaking his head. “You’ve been promoted” He said and you r eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I need a new assistant, my last one quit on me” He said “Are you up for it?”

Two weeks into your assistant job things were going great. Drew had shown you the ropes and you felt like you belonged.

This day in particular, Drew seemed out of it, he seemed angry and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Mr. Starkey? Is there anything else you need?” You asked and he waved you off. “You look like you could use a break?” You added and he lifted his head.

“I have to get this done, I can’t take a break” He said and you nodded.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Starkey”

“Drew, honey, call me Drew, remember?” He added and you nodded, your cheeks flushing at the nickname.

The truth was, Drew had been frustrated because of you. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You wore a short black skirt and a light pink top today. He could practically see through your shirt and it was driving him crazy.

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

He knew he couldn’t do that, he wouldn’t.

The truth was, you had done this on purpose. You saw the way Drew looked at you. A hot older guy giving you attention was what you wanted. He was only 28, which wasn’t too much older than you, but his maturity was so goddamn sexy.

You just wanted to crawl under his desk and show him that you could do more than just assist him with work related things.

“Drew” You repeated back to him and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I know what you’re doing” He said and you smiled, glad he caught on.

“Oh? You do?” You said and batted your eyelashes toward him. You wanted to seem innocent.

He was about to say something else when his phone rang, ruining the moment. He rolled his eyes as he answered.

“Yeah, we’ll be there” He said before he hung up. “We have a meeting to go to, come” He said and stood up, making his way towards the office door.

The elevator ride was tense. You were practically dripping just thinking about him.

At the same time, you and Drew looked at each other and went for it.

Connecting your lips together in a heated kiss, Drew pushed you up against the elevator wall, his hands trailing to your waist.

You moaned into his mouth, a smirk coming from him soon after.

Drew wasn’t just going to kiss you of course. He hiked your skirt up and waisted no time slipping his hand into your panties. You guys had many floors to go, so he had time.

Two of his fingers slid into you as his thumb abused your clit, small moans and whimpers falling from your lips and into his as your lips were still pressed firmly together.

Your hands gripped his white shirt, throwing your head back in pure pleasure as you disconnected your lips from Drew’s.

“Don’t stop!” You begged and he nodded, moving faster. It didn’t take long for you to get close, you two almost to your floor.

“Cum for me” Drew whispered and your body erupted in pleasure, finally getting it’s release.

Drew held tour body up as you shook beneath him, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched rob unravel below him.

Ding!

You made it to your floor.

PART TWO?

#x y/n #outer banks #obx netflix #outer banks x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #obx smut

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 7 months

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Frev Friendships — Saint-Just and Robespierre

You who supports the tottering fatherland against the torrent of despotism and intrigue, you whom I only know, like God, through his miracles; I speak to you, monsieur, to ask you to unite with me in order to save my sad fatherland. The city of Gouci has relocated (this rumour goes around here) the free markets from the town of Blérancourt. Why do the cities devour the privileges of the countryside? Will there remain no more of them to the latter than size and taxes? Support, please, with all your talent, an address that I make for the same letter, in which I request the reunion of my heritage with the national areas of the canton, so that one lets to my country a privilege without which it has to die of hunger. I do not know you, but you are a great man. You are not only the deputy of a province, you are one of humanity and of the Republic. Please, make it that my request be not despised. I have the honour to be, monsieur, your most humble, most obedient servant. Saint-Just, constituent of the department of Aisne. To Monsieur de Robespierre in the National Assembly in Paris. Blérancourt, near Noyon, August 19, 1790. Saint-Just’s first letter ever written to Robespierre, dated August 19 1790

Citizens, you are aware that, to dispel the errors with which Roland has covered the entire Republic, the Society has decided that it will have Robespierre's speech printed and distributed. We viewed it as an eternal lesson for the French people, as a sure way of unmasking the Brissotin faction and of opening the eyes of the French to the virtues too long unknown of the minority that sits with the Mountain. I remind you that a subscription office is open at the secretariat. It is enough for me to point it out to you to excite your patriotic zeal, and, by imitating the patriots who each deposited fifty écus to have Robespierre's excellent speech printed, you will have done well for the fatherland. Saint-Just at the Jacobins, January 1 1793

Patriots with more or less talent […] Jacquier, Saint-Just’s brother-in-law. Robespierre in a private list, written sometime during his time on the Committee of Public Safety

Saint-Just doesn’t have time to write to you. He gives you his compliments. Lebas in a letter to Robespierre October 25 1793

Trust no longer has a price when we share it with corrupt men, then we do our duty out of love for our fatherland alone, and this feeling is purer. I embrace you, my friend. Saint-Just. To Robespierre the older. Saint-Just in a post-scriptum note added to a letter written by Lebas to Robespierre, November 5 1793. Saint-Just uses tutoiement with Robespierre here, while Lebas used vouvoiement.

We have made too many laws and too few examples: you punish but the salient crimes, the hypocritical crimes go unpunished. Punish a slight abuse in each part, it is the way to frighten the wicked, and to make them see that the government has its eye on everything. No sooner do we turn our backs than the aristocracy rises in the tone of the day, and commits evils under the colors of liberty. Engage the committee to give much pomp to the punishment of all faults in government. Before a month has passed you will have illuminated this maze in which counter-revolution and revolution march haphazardly. Call, my friend, the attention of the Jacobin Club to the strong maxims of the public good; let it concern itself with the great means of governing a free state. I invite you to take measures to find out if all the manufactures and factories of France are in activity, and to favor them, because our troops would within a year find themselves without clothes; manufacturers are not patriots, they do not want to work, they must be forced to do so, and not let down any useful establishment. We will do our best here. I embrace you and our mutual friends. Saint-Just To Robespierre the older. Saint-Just in a letter to Robespierre, December 14 1793

Paris, 9 nivôse, year 2 of the Republic. Friends. I feared, in the midst of our successes, and on the eve of a decisive victory, the disastrous consequences of a misunderstanding or of a ridiculous intrigue. Your principles and your virtues reassured me. I have supported them as much as I could. The letter that the Committee of Public Safety sent you at the same time as mine will tell you the rest. I embrace you with all my soul. Robespierre. Robespierre in a letter to Saint-Just and Lebas, December 29 1793

Why should I not say that this (the dantonist purge) was a meditated assassination, prepared for a long time, when two days after this session where the crime was taking place, the representative Vadier told me that Saint-Just, through his stubbornness, had almost caused the downfall of the members of the two committees, because he had wanted that the accused to be present when he read the report at the National Convention; and such was his obstinacy that, seeing our formal opposition, he threw his hat into the fire in rage, and left us there. Robespierre was also of this opinion; he believed that by having these deputies arrested beforehand, this approach would sooner or later be reprehensible; but, as fear was an irresistible argument with him, I used this weapon to fight him: You can take the chance of being guillotined, if that is what you want; For my part, I want to avoid this danger by having them arrested immediately, because we must not have any illusions about the course we must take; everything is reduced to these bits: If we do not have them guillotined, we will be that ourselves. À Maximilien Robespierre aux enfers (1794) by Taschereau de Fargues and Paul-Auguste-Jacques. Robespierre and Saint-Just had also worked out the dantonists’ indictment together.

…As far from the insensibility of your Saint-Just as from his base jealousies, [Camille] recoiled in front if the idea of accusing a college comrade, a companion in arms. […] Robespierre, can you really complete the fatal projects which the vile souls that surround you no doubt have inspired you to? […] Had I been Saint-Just’s wife I would tell him this: the sake of Camille is yours, it’s the sake of all the friends of Robespierre! Lucile Desmoulins in an unsent letter to Robespierre, written somewhere between March 31 and April 4 1794. Lucile seems to have believed it was Saint-Just’s ”bad influence” in particular that got Robespierre to abandon Camille.

In the beginning of floréal (somewhere between April 20 and 30) during an evening session (at the Committee of Public Safety), a brusque fight erupted between Saint-Just and Carnot, on the subject of the administration of portable weapons, of which it wasn’t Carnot, but Prieur de la Côte-d’Or, who was in charge. Saint-Just put big interest in the brother-in-law of Sijas, Luxembourg workshop accounting officer, that one thought had been oppressed and threatened with arbitrary arrest, because he had experienced some difficulties for the purpose of his service with the weapon administration. In this quarrel caused unexpectedly by Saint-Just, one saw clearly his goal, which was to attack the members of the committee who occupied themselves with arms, and to lose their cooperateurs. He also tried to include our collegue Prieur in the inculpation, by accusing him of wanting to lose and imprison this agent. But Prieur denied these malicious claims so well, that Saint-Just didn’t dare to insist on it more. Instead, he turned again towards Carnot, whom he attacked with cruelty; several members of the Committee of General Security assisted. Niou was present for this scandalous scene: dismayed, he retired and feared to accept a pouder mission, a mission that could become, he said, a subject of accusation, since the patriots were busy destroying themselves in this way. We undoubtedly complained about this indecent attack, but was it necessary, at a time when there was not a grain of powder manufactured in Paris, to proclaim a division within the Committee of Public Safety, rather than to make known this fatal secret? In the midst of the most vague indictments and the most atrocious expressions uttered by Saint-Just, Carnot was obliged to repel them by treating him and his friends as aspiring to dictatorship and successively attacking all patriots to remain alone and gain supreme power with his supporters. It was then that Saint-Just showed an excessive fury; he cried out that the Republic was lost if the men in charge of defending it were treated like dictators; that yesterday he saw the project to attack him but that he defended himself. ”It’s you,” he added, ”who is allied with the enemies of the patriots. And understand that I only need a few lines to write for an act of accusation and have you guillotined in two days.” ”I invite you, said Carnot with the firmness that only appartient to virtue: I provoke all your severity against me, I do not fear you, you are ridiculous dictators.” The other members of the Committee insisted in vain several times to extinguish this ferment of disorder in the committee, to remind Saint-Just of the fairer ideas of his colleague and of more decency in the committee; they wanted to call people back to public affairs, but everything was useless: Saint-Just went out as if enraged, flying into a rage and threatening his colleagues. Saint-Just probably had nothing more urgent than to go and warn Robespierre the next day of the scene that had just happened, because we saw them return together the next day to the committee, around one o'clock: barely had they entered when Saint-Just, taking Robespierre by the hand, addressed Carnot saying: ”Well, here you have my friends, here are the ones you attacked yesterday!” Robespierre tried to speak of the respective wrongs with a very hypocritical tone: Saint-Just wanted to speak again and excite his colleagues to take his side. The coldness which reigned in this session, disheartened them, and they left the committee very early and in a good mood. Réponse des membres des deux anciens Comités de salut public et de sûreté générale (Barère, Collot, Billaud, Vadier), aux imputations renouvellées contre eux, par Laurent Lecointre et declarées calomnieuses par décret du 13 fructidor dernier; à la Convention Nationale (1795), page 103-105

My friends, the committee has taken all the measures within its control at this time to support your zeal. It has asked me to write to you to explain the reasons for some of its provisions. It believed that the main cause of the last failure was the shortage of skilled generals, it will send you all the patriotic and educated soldiers that can be found. It thought it necessary at this time to re-use Stetenhofen, whom it is sending to you, because he has military merit, and because the objections made against him seem at least to be balanced by proofs of loyalty. He also relies on your wisdom and your energy. Salut et amitié. Paris, 15 floréal, year 2 of the Republic. Robespierre. Robespierre to Saint-Just and Lebas, May 4 1793

Dear collegue, Liberty is exposed to new dangers; the factions arise with a character more alarming than ever. The lines to get butter are more numerous and more turbulent than ever when they have the least pretexts, an insurrection in the prisons which was to break out yesterday and the intrigues which manifested themselves in the time of Hébert are combined with assassination attemps on several occasions against members of the Committee of Public Safety; the remnants of the factions, or rather the factions still alive, are redoubled in audacity and perfidy. There is fear of an aristocratic uprising, fatal to liberty. The greatest peril that threatens it is in Paris. The Committee needs to bring together the lights and energy of all its members. Calculate whether the army of the North, which you have powerfully contributed to putting on the path to victory, can do without your presence for a few days. We will replace you, until you return, with a patriotic representative. The members composing the Committee of Public Safety. Robespierre, Prieur, Carnot, Billaud-Varennes, Barère. Letter to Saint-Just from the CPS, May 25 1794, written by Robespierre. It was penned down just two days after the alleged attempt on Robespierre’s life by Cécile Renault.

Robespierre returned to the Committee a few days later to denounce new conspiracies in the Convention, saying that, within a short time, these conspirators who had lined up and frequently dined together would succeed in destroying public liberty, if their maneuvers were allowed to continue unpunished. The committee refused to take any further measures, citing the necessity of not weakening and attacking the Convention, which was the target of all the enemies of the Republic. Robespierre did not lose sight of his project: he only saw conspiracies and plots: he asked that Saint-Just returned from the Army of the North and that one write to him so that he may come and strengthen the committee. Having arrived, Saint-Just asked Robespierre one day the purpose of his return in the presence of the other members of the Committee; Robespierre told him that he was to make a report on the new factions which threatened to destroy the National Convention; Robespierre was the only speaker during this session. He was met by the deepest silence from the Committee, and he leaves with horrible anger. Soon after, Saint-Just returned to the Army of the North, since called Sambre-et-Mouse. Some time passes; Robespierre calls for Saint-Just to return in vain: finally, he returns, no doubt after his instigations; he returned at the moment when he was most needed by the army and when he was least expected: he returned the day after the battle of Fleurus. From that moment, it was no longer possible to get him to leave, although Gillet, representative of the people to the army, continued to ask for him. Réponse de Barère, Billaud-Varennes, Collot d’Herbois et Vadier aux imputations de Laurent Lecointre (1795)

On 10 messidor (June 28) I was at the Committee of Public Safety. There, I witnessed those who one accuses today (Billaud-Varenne, Barère, Collot-d'Herbois, Vadier, Vouland, Amar and David) treat Robespierre like a dictator. Robespierre flew into an incredible fury. The other members of the Committee looked on with contempt. Saint-Just went out with him. Levasseur at the Convention, August 30 1794. If this scene actually took place, it must have done so one day later, 11 messidor (June 29), considering Saint-Just was still away on a mission on the tenth.

Isn’t it around the same time (a few days before thermidor) that Saint-Just and Lebas would dine at your father’s house with Robespierre? Lebas often dined there, having married one of my sisters. Saint-Just rarely there, but he frequently went to Robespierre’s and climbed the stairs to his office without speaking to anyone. During the dinner which I’m talking about, did you hear Saint-Just propose to Robespierre to reconcile with some members of the Convention and Committees who appeared to be opposed to him? No. I only know that they appeared to be very devided. Do you have any ideas what these divisions were about? I only learned about it through the discussions which took place on this subject at the Jacobins and through the altercation which was said to have taken place at the Committee of Public Safety between Robespierre older and Carnot. Robespierre’s host’s son Jacques-Maurice Duplay in an interrogation held January 1 1795

Saint-Just then fell back on his report, and said that he would join the committee the next day (9 thermidor) and that if it did not approve it, he would not read it. Collot continued to unmask Saint-Just; but as he focused more on depicting the dangers praying on the fatherland than on attacking the perfesy of Saint-Just and his accomplices, he gradually reassured himself of his confusion; he listened with composure, returning to his honeyed and hypocritical tone. Some time later, he told Collot d'Herbois that he could be reproached for having made some remarks against Robespierre in a café, and establishing this assertion as a positive fact, he admitted that he had made it the basis of an indictment against Collot, in the speech he had prepared. Réponse des membres des deux anciens Comités de salut public et de sûrété générale… (1795) page 107.

I attest that Robespierre declared himself a firm supporter of the Convention and never spoke but gently in the Committee so as not to undermine any of its members. […] Billaud-Varenne said to Robespierre, “We are your friends, we have always walked together.” This dishonesty made my heart shudder. The next day, he called him Peisistratos and had written his act of accusation. […] If you reflect carefully on what happened during your last session, you will find the application of everything I said: a man alienated from the Committee due to the bitterest treatments, when this Committee was, in fact, no longer made up of more than the two or three members present, justified himself before you; he did not explain himself clearly enough, to tell the truth, but his alienation and the bitterness in his soul can excuse him somewhat: he does not know why he is being persecuted, he knows nothing except his misfortune. He has been called a tyrant of opinion: here I must explain myself and shine light on a sophism that tends to proscribe merit. And what exclusive right do you have to opinion, you who find that it is a crime to touch souls? Do you find it wrong that a man should be tenderhearted? Are you thus from the court of Philip, you who make war on eloquence? A tyrant of opinion? Who is stopping you from competing for the esteem of the fatherland, you who find it so wrong that someone should captivate it? There is no despot in the world, save Richelieu, who would be insulted by the fame of a writer. Is it a more disinterested triumph? Cato is said to have chased from Rome the bad citizen who had called eloquence at the tribune of harangues, the tyrant of opinion. No one has the right to claim that; it gives itself to reason and its empire is not the in the power of governments. […] The member who spoke for a long time yesterday at this tribune did not seem to have distinguished clearly enough who he was accusing. He had no complaints and has not complained either about the Committees; because the Committees still seem to me to be dignified of your estime, and the misfortunes that I have spoken to you of were born of isolation and the extreme authority of several members left alone. Saint-Just defending Robespierre in his last, undelivered speech, July 27 1794

One brings St. Just, Dumas and Payan, all of them shackled, they are escorted by policemen. They stay a good quarter of an hour standing in front of the door of the Committee’s room; one makes them sit down onto a windowsill; they have still not uttered a single word, pleasant people make the persons who surround these three men step aside, and say move back, let these gentlemen see their King sleep on a table, just like a man. Saint-Just moves his head in order to see Robespierre. Saint-Just’s figure appeared dejected and humiliated, his swollen eyes expressed chagrin. Faits recueillis aux derniers instants de Robespierre et de sa saction, du 9 au 10 thermidor (1794) by anonymous.

The Committee of General Security was being spied on by Héron, D…, Lebas: Robespierre knew, through them, word for word, everything that was happening at said committee. This espionage gave rise to more intimate connections between Couthon, Saint-Just and Robespierre. The fierce and ambitious character of the latter gave him the idea of establishing the general police bureau, which, barely conceived, was immediately decreed. Révélations puisées dans les cartons des comités de Salut public et de Sûreté générale ou mémoires (inédits) (1824) by Gabriel Jérôme Sénart.

Intimately linked with Robespierre, [Saint-Just] had become necessary to him, and he had made himself feared perhaps even more than he had desired to be loved. One never saw them divided in opinion, and if the personal ideas of one had to bow to those of the other, it is certain that Saint-Just never gave in. Robespierre had a bit of that vanity which comes from selfishness; Saint-Just was full of the pride that springs from well-established beliefs; without physical courage, and weak in body, to the point of fearing the whistling of bullets, he had the courage of reflection which makes one wait for certain death, so as not to sacrifice an idea. Memoirs of René Levasseur (1829) volume 2, page 324-325.

Often [Robespierre] said to me that Camille was perhaps the one among all the key revolutionaries whom he liked best, after our younger brother and Saint-Just. Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1834) page 139.

After the month of March, 1794, Robespierre's conduct appeared to me to change. Saint-Just was to a great degree the cause of this, and this leader was too youthful ; he urged him into the vain and dangerous path of dictatorship which he haughtily proclaimed. From that time all confidences in the two committees were at an end, and the misfortunes that followed the division in the government became inevitable. […] We did not hide from [Robespierre] that Saint-Just, who was formed of more dictatorial stuff, would have ended by overturning him and occupying his place ; we knew too that he would have us guillotined because of our opposition to his plans; so we overthrew him. Memoirs of Bertrand Barère (1896), volume 1, page 103-104.

About this time Robespierre felt his ambition growing, and he thought that the moment had come to employ his influence and take part in the government. He took steps with certain members of the committee and the Convention, asking them to show a desire that he, Robespierre, should become a member of the Committee of Public Safety. He told the Jacobins it would be useful to observe the work and conduct of the members of the committee, and he told the members of the Convention that there would be more harmony between the Convention and the committee if he entered it. Several deputies spoke to me about it, and the proposal was made to the committee by Couthon and Saint-Just. To ask was to obtain, for a refusal would have been a sort of accusation, and it was necessary to avoid any split during that winter which was inaugurated in such a sinister manner. The committee agreed to his admission, and Robespierre was proposed. Ibid, volume 2, page 96-97

The continued victories of our fourteen armies were as a cloud of glory over our frontiers, hiding from allied Europe our internecine struggles, and that unhappy side of our national character which acts and reacts so deplorably as much on the whole population as on our nghts and our manners. The enthusiasm with which I announced these victories from the tnbune was so easily seen that Saint- Just and Robespierre, being in the committee at three in the morning, and learning of the taking of Namur and some other Belgian towns, insisted for the future that the letters alone of the generals should be read, without any comments which might exaggerate their contents. I saw at once at whom this reproach was directed, and I took up the gauntlet with the deasion of a man willing to once more merit the hatred of the enemies of our national glory, and the bravery of our armies. Then Samt-Just cried, “ I beg to move that Barère be no longer allowed to add froth to our victories.” […] While Saint-Just was reproving me, Robespierre supported the longsightedness of his friend… […] The next day my report on the taking of Namur was somewhat more carefully drawn up, and I alluded to the observation of my critics, who were envious of the power of public opinion in favour of our troops, then busied in saving the country. This phrase in my report was much commented on, although its meaning was only clear to those who had heard the debate in the committee on the previous evening “Sad are the tunes, sad is the period, when the recital of the triumphs and glories of the armies of the Repubhc is coldly hastened to in this place! Henceforth liberty will be no longer defended by the country, it will be handed over to its enemies!”This pronouncement was not of a nature to be forgiven by Saint-Just and Robespierre, so they determined to supplant me with regard to these reports. They forced that idiot Couthon to attend the Committee of Public Safety at eleven in the morning, before I got there Couthon asked for the letters of the generals that had come in during the night, and took his usual seat at the back of the hall, waiting until the assembly was sufficiently full for him to announce the victones. About one, Couthon, being paralysed and unable to stand up in the tribune, coldly read the news from the armies from his place. This time, no effect was produced in the Assembly, or upon the public. This attempt, authorised by Robespierre and Saint-Just, having missed fire completely, the committee signified its dissatisfaction at the innovation. Ibid, volume 2, page 123-125

After his return from Fleurus, Saint-Just remained some time in Paris, although his mission as representative to the armies of the Sambre and Meuse and the Rhine and Moselle was unfinished. The campaign was only beginning, but he had several projects in hand, and he stayed in committee, or rather his office, where he was always absorbed and thoughtful. Robespierre, in speaking of him at the committee, said familiarly, as if speaking of an intimate friend: ”Saint-Just is silent and observant, but I have noticed, in his personality, he has a great likeness to Charles IX.” This did not flatter Saint-Just, who was a deeper and cleverer revolutionist than Robespierre. One day, when the former was angry about several legislative propositions or decrees that did not please him, Saint-Just said to him, “Be calm, it is the phlegmatic who govern.” Ibid, volume 2, page 139

This tyrannical law was the work of Saint-Just Consult the Momteuv of the 22nd of Germinal, where it is reported with the explanation of his motives, and you will see that, if there had been no committee, SamtJust would have used his power with as much dictatorial fanaticism as did Manus, that great enemy of the Roman anstocracy. Robespierre’s fnend never forgave me for having dimmished the force of this blow. Whilst I was at the tnbune of the Convention, he came, with someone unknown, and perused my register of requisitions. He took down certain names, and some days after, towards midnight, Robespierre and Saint-Just entered the committee, where they did not usually come (for they worked in a private office, under pretext that their duties were completely private) A few moments after their entry Saint-Just complained of the abuse I had made of the requisitions, which had been granted, said he, in such profusion that the law of the 21st of Germinal had become null and void. Ibid, volume 2, page 146

Robespierre, Saint-Just and Couthon were inseparable. The first two had a dark and duplicitous character; they pushed away with a kind of disdainful pride any familiarity or affectionate relationship with their colleagues. The third, a legless man with a pale appearance, affected good-nature, but was no less perfidious than the other two. All three of them had a cold heart, without pity, they interacted only with each other, holding mysterious meetings outside, having a large number of protégés and agents, impenetrable in their designs. Révélations sur le Comité de salut public by Prieur-Duvernois

Robespierre, who had great confidence in Le Bas because he knew his wise and prudent character well, had chosen him to accompany Saint-Just, whose burning love of the fatherland sometimes led to too much severity, and who had a tendency to get carried away. […] [Saint-Just] also had friendship for me and came often enough to our house. […] Finally our providence, our good friend Robespierre, spoke to Saint-Just to engage him to let me depart with them, along with my sister-in-law Henriette. He consented, but with some conditions. Memoirs of Élisabeth Lebas (1901)

Volume 8 — page 153. ”Saint-Just, his (Robespierre’s) only confident.” His only confident? Élisabeth Lebas corrects a passage in Alphonse de Lamartine’s Histoire des Girondins (1847)

The Lamenths and Péthion in the early days, quite rarely Legendre, Merlin de Thionville and Fouché, often Taschereau, Desmoulins and Teault, always Lebas, Saint-Just, David, Couthon and Buonarotti. Élisabeth Lebas regarding visitors to the Duplay’s during the revolution

—

When arriving in Paris in September 1792, Saint-Just first lived on No. 7 rue de Gaillon up until March 1794, and then on No. 3 rue de Caumartin (today’s No. 5) up until his death. Both those places were within a ten minute walking distance from Robespierre’s home on 398 Rue Saint-Honoré.

Saint-Just was away from Paris (and therefore Robespierre) on missions between March 9 to March 31, October 17 to December 4, December 10 to December 30 (1793), January 22 to February 13, April 30 to May 31 and June 10 to June 29 (1794).

#sj and max holding hands 🤗💓#robespierre #saint-just #maximilien robespierre #louis antoine de saint just #barère #élisabeth lebas #philippe lebas #frev #frev friendships #long post #saintspierre

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megamett44-lover · 9 months

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Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: Based off “Never Say Never” by The Fray

Warnings/Notes: She/her pronouns, profanity, online bullying

Requested? No! (I have been re-watching The Vampire Diaries and forgot how good the soundtrack is. So prepare for more fics based off of songs<3)

Don’t Let Me Go

“Some things we don't talk about

Rather do without and just hold the smile”

Chris and I had a…complicated relationship, to say the least. Growing up together, he had become my best friend, my safe place. The only one I trusted completely with my heart. I guess that was my first mistake.

As we grew older, so did my feelings. They grew into something I couldn’t ever understand. I had thought my feelings had been one sided, but I was wrong. Both of us scared to lose our friendship, neither of us said anything.

“Falling in and out of love

Ashamed and proud of, together all the while”

It was Sophomore year when we had both confessed our feeling for each other. Both delirious at 3:00am, watching some stupid comedy, when his hand slipped into mine under the blanket we shared. Looking up to be met with his blue eyes boring into mine, he smiled.

“I love you, Y/n.” He had whispered softly.

Something we had often said to each other, somehow felt different; this statement from him had the weight of his whole heart on the line. And with all of the courage in my body, I threw my heart into the deep end with his, not caring where it would take us.

“And I love you, Chris.” I whispered, watching his eyes for any glimmer of doubt. Instead, I found the childlike innocence of pure, true love. The kind’ve look someone only has once in their lifetime; first to love, and to be loved.

From then on, we were one. Maybe to our own fault. When we were good, things were great. But…when things were bad, they were awful. Loving each other too much to the point of not loving each other at all; it had become too much.

“You can never say never

While we don't know when

But time and time again

Younger now, than we were before”

“I never want to see you again.” I said through the tears burning my eyes.

“Never say that again, Y/n L/n.” Chris said. “I don’t care if you’re not mine, I will always be yours. No matter what, I can promise you that.”

I was silent, my heart aching from the pain of crying. My knees threatening to buckle from beneath me at any moment, to fall back into Chris’ arms because as much as I hated to admit it, I had felt the same for him, no matter what I said.

But I stood strong, and watched as he walked toward my front door. Before closing it behind him, he turned to look at me one last time.

“My heart is yours, Y/n.” Chris said softly. “It always has been, and always will be.”

“Picture, you're the queen of everything

Far as the eye can see, under your command”

At 19, I had moved with Chris and his brothers to L.A. to pursue a YouTube channel of my own. Having pretty much overnight success, I felt as if I was on top of the world. I had truly made something of myself.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” Chris said, wrapping me in his arms. “You deserve it all, and I will be there with you every step of the way.”

Pulling back from his embrace, I looked into his eyes; the same eyes that looked back at me when we were just 16, confessing our teenage crushes. Now older, they resembled the pride he had, the admiration he held for me; the love we had shared for years, only growing stronger.

“I will be your guardian

When all is crumbling, I'll steady your hand”

“God why did he chose her?”

“She’s just using him for her own gain lmao”

“Idk I think it’s kinda sweet that Chris is doing some charity work”

Reading the comments of Chris’ most recent Instagram post announcing our relationship, had my eyes watering. I was no stranger to the hate, I had been dealing with it since I was featured in one of the Triplets YouTube videos. The speculation that I might be dating one of them, the hate had spread all over my social medias; but this time was ten times worse.

With the confirmation of our love, the internet responded with hate. Burying my face into my knees, I let the tears flow freely, something I had never done. I knew it was pointless to cry, but I couldn’t help it; everyone has their breaking points, and this one was mine.

“Y/n! I’m back from the st-” Chris stops at the sight of me crying on his bedroom floor. “Oh, baby what’s wrong?” He asks, putting a finger under my chin so I revealed my face to him.

“It’s stupid.” I said, wiping my eyes. “Really, I’m fine, just stressed.”

Chris looked at me quizzically before eyeing the phone beside me, Instagram comments still open.

“Oh Y/n,” He said, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. He grabbed my phone, scanning the comments himself, scoffing to himself. “I hope you aren’t actually taking these to heart.”

He picked me up, holding me in his arms. “You, Y/n L/n, are the most beautiful girl in the world, with the most infectious laugh I’ve ever heard. You are everything to me, no matter what anyone says or thinks. I love you so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. So don’t let that bullshit get to you, because that’s all it is, bullshit.”

By this point I’m laughing, my arms wrapped around his neck. “You done?” I asked.

“Do you believe me?” Chris asked. “Because if not, I’m gonna be forced to keep reminding you how much I love you.”

“We're growing apart…”

Navigating our relationship since we had gone public had been hard. With all the retaliation from his fans pouring in, it became hard for me to listen to Chris, opposed to the thousands of others who wanted to see our relationship to break.

“Chris,” I say, standing in the doorway of his room. “I think we need to take a break.”

Looking up from his phone, his eyes wide. He approaches me. “What, why?” He asks, bewildered.

I sigh, fighting the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. “I just…I need time.” I whisper. “This is all so much, it’s taking a toll on me.”

I look up to see a tears in Chris’ eyes. Placing a hand on my cheek, he pulls me closer. “I never want to hurt you.” He says. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be right here waiting, whenever you’re ready.”

“…but we pull it together

Pull it together, together again”

A month later, and I wish I could’ve said I was doing better. Truthfully, I felt as though I was missing a piece of myself, my other half, my best friend.

Typing out a simple: “I need you.” and hitting send was probably one of the best decisions I had ever made in my entire life. In 5 minutes flat, there was a rapid knocking on my door.

Opening the door, I see Chris, soaking wet from the rain that was beating down on my house. Throwing myself outside into his arms, I couldn’t care less about the rain; I was home.

“Don’t let me go.” I whisper.

“Don’t let me go.” He whispered back, holding me tightly.

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo edit #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #Spotify

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qqueenofhades · 2 months

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Hello! I have a question that may be a tad uncomfortable but I don't know who could answer honestly. How do you get over class with a professor who self identifies as your mentor/father? He spilled his guts to me after class and told me how happy he was he connected to a young girl like me(Im 19 he's 59). He will be my prof for the ENTIRE year. I don't know how to feel, it wasn't flirty at all, and I actually think he sees himself in me. He's odd and off putting and stand offish. I am too, kinda. He said if shouldn't feel lonely because Im different, because I have my family, and now him (also Implied i should find god).

He's a conservative catholic with a wife and kids, I can tell he doesn't mean it in a weird way. He probably means well. But it's odd that he's acting like a mentor when I've only known him for a month.

Now, I thought this chat wouldn't affect me but he psychoanalysed me and it felt like he saw right through me while treating me like his therapist. I also think he's a lonely man who is projecting, seeing my potential and "what could've been" for himself.

How do I cope? I don't want this to affect me, but it pushed me terribly off axis. I felt pigeonholed, more than anything, and also feel bad for him.

WELP. Okay, first of all, I want to reinforce that this is NOT your fault and that it clearly creeped you out to the point where you decided to ask someone for help, all of which means that the situation is not okay and he does NOT have the right to do any of this -- whether forcing emotional intimacy on you after a very short time, suggesting that you Find Jesus and/or convert, hinting that he wants to "mentor" you, or whatever. Just because he's a conservative Catholic is no guarantee that it won't get creepier (indeed, often the total opposite) and even if it wasn't sexual or didn't feel sexual at the moment, that is... wrong. He should not have done it. He does not have the right to decide He Is Now Your Mentor and to push that connection on you. Even if it was not conscious or intentional grooming behavior, it is... squicky to say the least, showed that he was willing to push boundaries with you right away, and is certainly something that should make you cautious of any more uncontrolled or one-on-one interaction with him. So yeah. Gross. "Now you have me so you won't be lonely"??? Sorry, there is no scenario in which I can imagine that being an okay thing for a professor to say to a student. No. It may be that he just doesn't have a good sense of social boundaries or appropriate behavior, but that also doesn't mean you need to excuse it.

Next, if you can switch to another section or class so you don't have to spend the year with him, that might be worth looking into. If you can't, then obviously minimize the time you spend one-on-one (if there are office hours or if you need help with the class, maybe ask your peers or the TA if there is one, rather than him) and remember that you can tell people at your university if it continues to creep you out, not just me. There are procedures in place at most institutions to document this kind of interaction if it continues to cross a line (I don't know where you are in the world, but in the university where I work in the US, there's an office of Title IX, which deals with these kinds of issues). Older male academics smarming up to young female students and telling them they're "special" happens a lot, unfortunately, and while it doesn't always end terribly, it is something that you deservedly flagged as weird and which you should keep an eye on going forward. I'm sorry that you've experienced this and once again offer my support in navigating this year in as un-icky a way as possible. Please remember that you do not have to apologize for or excuse yourself for making choices to get out of a weird situation that clearly threw you for a loop, and you do not have to put up with this behavior if it continues or gets worse. Good luck.

#anonymous #ask #school stuff

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doiesfav · 9 months

Text

+·ºEveryday Work - Haechan ||

Pairing: non idol! Haechan x fem sex shop worker! Reader

Plot: One day this customer came to the sex shop you worked, some days to buy condoms or lingerie, other days just to look around and leave. He was attractive not to mention he sometimes caughts you looking at him.

Genre: smut, fiction, non idol! AU

Contains: sex??!?!, car sex omg, nicknames (such as good girl, pretty girl…), filthy smut and smut (also smut), reader kinda likes doyoung.

A/n: Okay this is the smuttiest thing i've ever written, love my mind🥰

w/c -> 1,5k

PT. 2

MASTERLIST

banners and dividers are self-made

You were just a high school dropout and at 19 you were working part-time in a sex shop, not the best place to leave a good impression but surprisingly well paid, what you needed. Actually, your friend's older brother owned it, Doyoung, so of course you took the opportunity when he was hiring staff. You didn't have the best relationship with your parents so they didn't even know what were you doing anyways.

Today was just a normal one, wake up, prepare to go to work, deal with customers, lunch break, deal with customers again, close the shop, and go home. Basic right? Well, let's say it was something you thought it would be today. You just arrived to open the shop, in the morning there aren't many people so you just need to stock products. <<Bell rings>>, ''Fuck'' you thought to yourself, the last thing you needed now was a customer, you left the supply room and went to check the customer. ''Fuck'' He was handsome, ''Welcome, do you need anything?'' You greeted him with a nervous voice, ''Yup, a condom please'' You then noticed how he checked you up which made you shy, You went to get the condom boxes and showed him the different types there were. ''Which one do you need?'' You asked, he then looked at the colorful and various items, and he grabbed a box of sensitive and intense normal size, ''I'll take this box'' he said while slightly touching your fingers on the counter.

''Ye-yes'' you stuttered by accident which in response he smirked. While scanning the item he kept trying to make eye contact but you looked away every time. ''That will be 14.99 dollars, Do you need any bag?'' still looking down, ''No thanks, here you go, keep the change'' He handed you the money and grabbed his purchase and before walking out of the door the unknown man smiled at you and he left. Your cheeks are blushing hard and if there was a mirror you could see yourself in you would be red as fuck.

It has been 9 days since that boy came. Today you dreamt about that man and it wasn’t a family friendly one to be exact, he was somehow in your room and was eating you out like crazy, and with no surprise you woke up wet. “4AM” that’s early, and then the image of that guy in your dreamt stepped in your mind reminding you how wet you were. It wasn’t your fault having a sex dream about him and either was masturbating thinking about him. It was the only way to satisfy you probably.

You finally arrived at your shop, still a little bit embarrassed about what happened in the early morning. And as usual not many customers at this time of the day maybe 2 or 3. <<bell rings>> it was your boss, “Good morning Mr. Kim” you tried to be polite because he was your superior although he was only 4 years older than you. “Morning ＿” Gosh he was so attractive, you didn’t want to admit it but you maybe had a tiny little crush on him, but you kept it to yourself because of the friendship with his sister.

He went to the stock room to do some stuff and your eyes kept track of him, today his hair down which made him look kinda like a bunny, you loved his fashion sense as it was kinda similar as yours, and the sweater he was wearing today it was your gift for his sister but it was too big for her, that’s why the sweater now belongs to him. Without noticing a customer was waiting in front of you while you were staring at your boss.

“Excuse me” That voice, you immediately turned your head back were it should be and guess who it was, that boy. Your ears were turning red knowing what you did this morning, “Oh ye-yea I’m sorry” You were getting shy because of how you were getting sandwiched by the two guys you had interest in lately. The customer then got closer towards your ear “So you like him huh?” Those words were enough to make your mind blow. “N-no is not like that” You then started scanning some lingerie he wanted to buy, Could it be for his girlfriend? You shouldn��t be having a crush on a guy who’s already dating, but he winked at you, it meant he wanted so it was okay to at least have dirty scenarios with him right?

“Hey Doyoung are you by any chanc in a relationship right now?” You were surprised, did they know each other? “Oh Donghyuck it’s you, and yes I have a girlfriend, what are you buying today and did the lubricant worked well?” Your face of disappointment was incredibly visible and you felt your energy going low but then distracted by your boss’s words, so his name was Donghyuck, and the way he said the next words he sounded like a regular. “No nothing in special, today im buying some lingerie and still haven’t used the new lubricant, although i might use it soon..” After those words were said he looked at your, noticing how his fierce and sexy looking eyes were tracing your silhouette.

“Okay, just go away, my worker doesn’t want to see your face” then he got closer to you and this time whispered, “meet me in your lunch break outside that Mercedes silver car” the heartbeat you felt that moment was probably painful but still wanted more and more. Donghyuck then grabbed his purchase and walked away again turning his head towards you.

Finally it was lunch time, your heart was racing like crazy, your scenarios that could happen just right after, and so much more. “Imma get going bye Mr. Kim!” You quickly ran out of the store this time without your ugly uniform as you wanted to appear more appealing, you went directly to the parking lot there was next, and there it was, a silver Mercedes. You walked slowly towards the car hoping it was the correct one and softly knocked the driver’s window. Then it was the guy you expected to be there, Donghyuck.

“Hi sweetie, you really came” He sounded like a total gentleman. “Y-Yes, why did you wanted to meet though?” You looked down feeling kinda shy and embarrassed, “I was wondering if I could be you could trust” Trust? Did he meant he wanted a relationship with you right away? Donghyuck then softly grabbed both of your hands. “I’m gonna be straight, I find you very attractive and I just want to spent a night with you” He was really straightforward, you wanted to spent a night with him, but you knew it wasn’t gonna be just one time. Based off in past experiences you knew what was gonna happen, but still followed what you desired.

Your hands went up to his shoulders and moved your head up to slowly kiss him, he then followed your movements. His lips were definitely addicting and just didn’t care if the word ended tomorrow, you wanted more. “Can we just do it inside?” Feeling desperate of having a taste of him. “Sure baby let’s go”. Outside the car seemed kinda small but once you were inside it you had come confidence it was gonna be the perfect space for both of you.

He tapped his lap to indicate you to sit on him, you did and kissed Donghyuck fiercely, his left was removing some hair strands on your face while his right one was slowly touching your clothed back. While having a break for the kiss he decided to remove the shirt you were wearing and then unclapped the bra. Just by looking his stare at your boobs you knew how much he liked those. Not so long after he started kissing and sucking one and with his hand played with your nipple, moans were already coming out of you and Donghyuck just enjoyed it more.

“Take off your jeans for me pretty girl” That nickname made you melt, you had a thing for nicknames and you followed his orders like a robot, “good girl” again another nickname, you were getting unpatient and wanted to savor him. You then noticed he was grabbing something next to him, it was the lubricant Doyoung mentioned earlier. He used some and spread it on his ring and index finger, “flex up your legs sweetie” You then gave him space to put his fingers inside you, what was it gonna feel like?

He slowly made his index finger go inside you, they were kind of thick but enjoyed it a lot, moans were kinda noticable of someone passed by the car but luckily it wasn’t the case. His ring finger then made way inside your pussy along the already index one “Do-donghyuck-“ He slowly thrusted to stretch you out and you were going feral, you never have been fingered this good, his fingers were delicate and knew what they were doing. And without notice Donghyuck curled up his finger and obviously he was searching your spot.

Surprisingly he found it easy, he could tell by how your moans were different and how much please you were showing him. He was thrusting too fast already that just because you didn’t want this to end you resisted the urge to cum but couldn’t take it anymore and just before releasing he removed those fingers. You were kinda upset but that meant you were getting dick.

PT.2

Hello guys!!! Sorry if I didn’t update that much these weeks :((( And I hope this counts as an apology😭😭 (sorry if theres an pt.2 but that will be probably released soon😽)

And as always thanks for the support and would appreciate reblog or follow!!! <333

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thiccybae · 1 year

Text

See Me

Neteyam x Human F! Reader x Lo’ak

Part 1.

Warnings/Content: Enemies to Lovers, angst, fluff, Love Triangle, future smut, slow burn, Neteyam is ab 19, Lo’ak is 18

Word count: ??around 1000

A human girl was born in the air of Pandora. Like the Na’vi, the air is normal to you. When the humans left Pandora you were the product of the few good ones that stayed.

For many years, you lived among the humans and Na’vi. When you were younger, you would often visit the Sully’s and you truly seemed to the apart of the family, but as you grew, the relationship changed.

As you got older, and grew around the Navi, problems between you and the brothers arose and they began to see you as different. Spider acted like he was one of them constantly, and he easily fit in. But it was hard for you, and you only grew distant from the brothers, as they did to you.

It hurt, but you grew used to it. You were still so close with Tuk, Kiri, Jake and Neytiri, and you could never understand why the brothers acted like they did to you. But they wouldn’t stop you from continuing to be around the rest of the family you love. Even if it they caused you to spend less time doing so, you would still do it when you were able.

- - -

You pushed through the doors of the building as Norm called out to you.

“Don’t forget a mask! Just Incase!” He yelled.

“I’ll be fine!! I always have been,” you called back as the doors closed behind you. You’ve been breathing the Pandora air since you were born, never having a moment where your breath would escape from you as most humans experience without their mask.

You hurried quickly and leapt through the glowing trees, as you raced to meet Spider and go to the village.

“Took you long enough!” Spider called.

“It’s not my fault! Norm was keeping me for so long.” You walked with him, pushing a branch out of the way. He laughed as he started running and grabbed your wrist, pulling you forward with him.

The two of you raced to the village, barefooted and hot from the heat of the forest.

By the time you got to the Hometree, the heat had died down, and the sun had started to fall. The Na’vi that were gathered around the tree moved in the path to the Tree of Souls. You started to follow the crowd with Spider until you were tackled to the ground.

“Y/n!” Kiri hugged you tightly. “Why haven’t you come around in so long?!” She questioned, frowning. You laughed as you sat up, still hugging her.

“It’s only been like a week Kiri,” you smiled.

“Yeah a week too long!” She huffed.

“That’s what I’ve been telling her too! You should be more social.” Spider chirped in. A few more pairs of footsteps appeared behind you and stopped.

“Hey, I thought it was nice without her, shut up Kiri.”

You whipped your head around and glared at Lo’ak as you stood up with Kiri. Neteyam stood behind Lo’ak, not saying anything, or acknowledging you.

“Why are you such an ass Lo’ak,” Kiri rolled her eyes, pulling you and Spider along with her.

Neteyam and Lo’ak walked behind you and Kiri, and Spider slowed down to talk with them. You glanced back for a moment, watching Spider converse with the boys. You looked forward again, thinking to yourself. You could never understand why your relationship with them was so different than theirs with Spider. You could never fathom how things turned out the way they did with the brothers you’ve always admired since you were a child. How could being a human girl be different than being a human boy? How were you so different?

Kiri pulled you out of your thoughts, squeezing your hand as you made it to the Tree of Souls. Jake, Neytiri, and Tuk turned to you as Kiri yelled, greeting them. Jake walked over, pulling you into a hug as Kiri let you go to pick up Tuk. Jake pulled your chin up to look at him.

“You need to start coming around more again. You know you’re family right?” He questioned, his voice deep and rough.

You nodded, averting your eyes from his, “I know Jake.”

“I know things have changed over the years…But we all still love you..Even if some of us don’t show it,” he looked over to Neteyam and Lo’ak as he said the last part.

“Okay, Okay. Things have just been tense lately for some reason. Spider gets along with them, but.. things are different with me.” You said as you squeezed Jake and let go.

“I know. I’m sure it won’t always be like that. You are family. Just don’t worry about it.” He smiled softly at you. You nodded and Neytiri came over and hugged you, almost as if she could sense your mood.

“Irrtok si,” she paused, “Jake is right. Do not worry.”

You smiled slightly. You and the Sully’s walked together to the Tree of Souls and the annual celebration began. You joined arms with Kiri who sat beside you. Spider sat on your other side. You felt relief being with them again, you were glad you came. You felt that you would always be happy with them.

If only you knew what was to come.

- - -

Na’vi language:

Irrtok si - smile

#smut #avatar 2 smut #fluff #angst #the way of water #lo’ak x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #enemies to lovers #slow burn #Spotify

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

WIBTA for kicking my brother out?

Long story short, last year I (24) got my own apartment, it's literally only a 1 bedroom; I got it myself without a cosigner, I paid an entire year of rent up front, and I paid a triple deposit because it's my first lease anywhere, and I've never asked anybody to help me pay any of the bills, I even moved all my furniture in completely by myself without help from anybody including my mom or her stinky husband (32, ew) or my brother (19)

I lived here by myself for about 4 months when my brother and my mom's stinky husband got into a fight

(it was Stinkys fault, he was starting shit with all my moms kids and my brother was just the only one aggressive enough to put him in the hospital like he deserved, but my mom defended him and lied to the court so he wouldn't be deported, he's her only source of income atm because of her disability)

anyways, my brother went to juvie for a few months and the courts say he and Stinky can't live in the same house together anymore, since this happened a few days after he graduated high school, they decided to not try him like an adult for the sentence, BUT if he breaks the restraining order, he will be tried like an adult; so my mom asked if my brother could live with me for a few DAYS so she could get her own place, for her and her kids (including the brother STILL IN MY HOUSE), and divorce Stinky-mcgee

I agreed to do it under the radar because I would have to pay a huge fee to add him to my lease, but it's against my lease to have him here this long without adding him...and my apts are trying to rebrand as "luxury" to raise rent, so they're kicking people out left and right for very minor offenses like smoking cigarettes indoors or hanging clothes on their balcony, things TECHNICALLY against the lease but REALLY stupid. (and charging new people more than what the people being kicked out were paying)

they will 100% evict me if I don't pay to add him to my lease if they find out, so I can't even call the maintenance man (he's a snitch, he already snitched on me for having more pets than I said I did). So I can't get my AC fixed and its 110°F outside rn...if I get evicted, I don't have any savings and I will be homeless, BUT ANYWAYS

it's been 7months, and my mom hasn't even LOOKED for an apartment,

my brother has 3 jobs and a car, but instead of looking for an apartment he spends all his money on his girlfriend (20), and video games, and shoes (I get that he's still a teen, so he wants teen things), but he won't even pay for the grocery bill if I ask (I only ask for groceries, the CHEAPEST bill, since I work with food, I rarely eat at home anyways, so it's mostly HIS groceries) and he always says he doesn't have enough money

I am at my fuckin limit tbh,

but I'm not sure if he could get an apt the same way I did with his conviction history (he's been to juvie like 6 times for different things), and my mom has been evicted so many times for fighting people that I doubt she could co sign if they look into her renters history; and my older brother (27) won't co sign or take him in because he says my brother isn't reliable enough, and he doesn't want to take the financial hit if my brother gets arrested again and can't pay rent... (the other kids are still school age, so they don't count)

he's old enough to go to a shelter, but we use to live in a shelter for YEARS after a tornado took out our house and our dad, and he took it the hardest, so I think living in a shelter might be a trigger for him(?)...so I kinda feel bad for suggesting it(?)

WIBTA if i just packed his shit, put it in his car, and told him to go to either his girlfriends house or a shelter?

(I kinda feel shitty for even thinking of it tbh)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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devieuls · 11 months

Text

The way of love pt.IV

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o. SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: Some parts are explicit and slightly NSFW, if you are minor do not interact with the series, the more I go on and the less chaste it will be.

Lenght : 4k

Notes: Okay, I’m the biggest clown ever. I realized I didn’t put the link of the characters' ceremonial clothes (I updated later, so new readers will have seen them. WELL: Neteyam & Y/n . Tul'pey & Y/n . Tul'pey: pv (Just look at the clothes and the paint on the body pls, the faces make me laugh too)

NA'VI WORDS: KARYU: Teacher. 'ITE: Daughter. TANHI: Star. TSMUKE: Sister. KXIMYU: commander, one with authority over another. TSKXEKENG: Training (means training but when I use it in history it is to indicate the training path for Olo'eyktan and Olo'eykte. Na'vi vocabulary and my searches do not provide the Tsakarem version for those who make the path to becoming Olo'eyktan)

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

" I leave you two alone, I see that the girls are calling me" your voice was slightly sour, before giving a kiss on the cheek of your partner and throwing an annoyed look at Neteyam, making him smirk.

You sighed away from the two boys and headed to the spot where your best friend, Uleyte, the village singer, was sitting. She was like a sister to you, she understood you why no one could, and she often saw far beyond your gaze, giving you advice and support. "In the midst of two fires?" Uleyte said, smiling, approaching you, and then taking your hands gently. You looked at her confused, not understanding what she was hinting at. "What do you mean? I’m not in the middle of fire." You said to your friend, laughing slightly, thinking it was one of the many meaningless things she said to make you laugh. "You know what I mean. Those two fires" Your friend’s hand landed on your face, making you turn towards the spot where Neteyam and Tul'pey were chatting amicably. "What? No! No fire. Tul'pey is the man destined for me." You said looking away from the boys, to point it at the girl who looked at you with affection. "Mh-mh I know, but does your heart feel the same?" she continued. You opened your mouth to respond, but you were stopped immediately by your friend’s manicured fingers, "No, look for the true answer in your heart. This month you’ve told me more about Neteyam than about Tul'pey in a whole year." His sweet, melodious voice made you think for a second. "You’re wrong, I have no feelings for him. You know it’s his fault if-" Uleyte nodded before you finished the sentence, he knew you’d hurt even the thought of talking about Ney'nari, your older sister. "Ma y/n… You always say that, but is that really what’s in your heart? Ney'nari wouldn’t want to see you deprive yourself of something just for events, which you know as well as I do, not totally inherent in Neteyam." She shook her hands, looking you in the eye. " I see what I want to hide from your mind, Eywa loves all her children and if these feelings are true, she'll help you"

Uleyte listened to you with a sweet smile as she watched you so desperately try to convince her she was wrong. But you knew perfectly well that she understood you, after all, after your sister’s death, she was the one who stood by you and filled that role with so much love. You had grown up together, even though she was a little older, you both saw each other as sisters and Ney'nari herself did not distinguish between you, treating both of you as her own blood. Uleyte knew how much you suffered for the girl’s death, becoming the rock and shelter you needed to move on. "Sometimes our enemies are our experiences, not people. You have a strong heart, ma y/n, but you are weak of spirit" The girl’s hands rested on your heart "Your mind may betray you, but your heart may not." Your gaze was slightly lost on that of your friend, trying to find adequate answers. " Let your heart speak for once. Today you have the chance to try and give forgiveness," she concluded, and then receive your little smile. Your friend took some of the paint that was on the bowls distributed throughout the village and drew a line from the cupid’s arch to the chin. This line had a particular meaning, you had never brought it among the various tribal designs because it was the symbol of 'truth', if a person dear to you creates this design, it spurs you to tell the truth and look for it. " Ma Uleyte…" You whispered with a thread of voice as she continued with a few stitches at heart level "Listen to your heart and make it speak, this is the only way to honor Ney'nari." She said while she was fixing your beads that she had to move to do the drawings.

The Day of Atonement was an enchanting and magical day also thanks to these moments, the paints were in small containers scattered around the village because when you forgave someone or advised them, some lines or dots symbolizing forgiveness were drawn on the skin of the other. Usually, the Na'vi would end the day with their bodies full of magnificent drawings and they would talk about it while feasting or dancing around the bonfire.

You watched your friend as you felt the tip of your nose pinch, knowing that soon you would drop tiny drops of dew from your eyes. You bent your head slightly and then was greeted by the girl’s hands. " Oel Ngati kameie, ma y/n" whispered as she leaned her forehead on yours, something your sister always did when she was still alive. You knew she saw you, she was one of the few people to do it and to understand you spiritually without needing Tsaheylu. "Oel Ngati kameie, ma tsmuke…" you managed to respond in a whisper, while you closed your eyes to hold back tears. You didn’t really want to realize that maybe you didn’t hate Neteyam, just convinced by the fact that because of his family the most important person in your life was gone.

The first few hours passed quickly, your body was full of colored paint for people who had forgiven you, and you had done the same with your clan members. It made you smile that like every year Tul'pey had only a few patches of color, after all he was a pure soul, he would not hurt anyone and that’s also why you liked the idea that one day you would be a couple. Looking away slightly, you noticed that Neteyam was devoid of any color, after all since he arrived in the village he had always offered to help anyone, whether it was for boring or extremely interesting things. For this reason the new designs were made with white paint, a symbol of purity, just to encourage him to continue being so. Your jaw twitched slightly, knowing that one side of you would cover him completely with paint, not so much for forgiveness as for marking his 'faults'. You hoped with all your heart that he would not come to ask for forgiveness, after all from his point of view it would not make sense to ask you to forgive him if he had not directly killed your sister. To help your cause you had made sure to sneak at his eyes as much as possible, Which he noticed every time he tried to get close to you.

Soon you got tired of running away from Neteyam and leaning against one of the huts in the village, looking up at the sky as the wind lightly ruffled your hair, making you smile slightly thinking it was the caress you needed from your sister. You didn’t notice the footsteps approaching, but you did realize that someone was watching you. "Am I disturbing you?" He asked for a warm voice that you identified as that of Neteyam. Your eyes followed the voice and then met the boy’s face. "If I’m being honest? No." You said spontaneously, and then you looked at the smile on his face. You don’t know why you said 'no' instead of 'yes' but by now you had spoken, you could not change position. "That’s what I was hoping… I’m here for-"you stopped him, nodding. "I know what you’re here for. If it’s for forgiveness I-" This time it was him who stopped you, before laughing slightly. "I will not force you to ask forgiveness for what you said or to force you to forgive me. I am here to ask your forgiveness for invading your space from day one, and for what you have suffered because of my family. You don’t have to forgive me, if you don’t want to, I get it, "He said softly and then came a little closer to you. " I know apologies won’t bring back the dead, but I felt like I should tell you"

Your eyes soften slightly, were he really apologizing for something he hadn’t even committed without even demanding your forgiveness? Your chest swelled slightly and then nodded in the wind. "Actually, I should be asking for your forgiveness. I mistreated you from day one just for your family, without even knowing you or anything else." You said, looking sideways, noticing how the boy put his hand under your chin to lift it. "That’s not necessary. I understand that, Ma Tanhì" His voice was sweet and all you could do was meet his honey eyes and be enchanted. "But I…" You stopped when you saw Neteyam’s sincere gaze, as if he didn’t need your apology, "By the way, you know my name, use it. No sense calling me Karyu," you said, slightly pulling Neteyam’s hand from your face. "Your name? Nah. I will use your name only if you want it, until that day, I will call you Karyu or Tanhì" His voice made clear the respect he had for you, making you smile slightly. You had never met a na'vi like him, always kind and respectful, and the fact that he asked you for your consent to use your name was something that had marked you particularly. Neteyam’s fingers went to dip in one of the bowls of paint, and then created four lines on your neck, two on each side. " I forgive you, ma Tanhì" he said as he drew the red lines on your neck, his eyes focused on making beautiful parallel lines, while your gaze was focused on his face. " Four lines?" you whispered to know the meaning, drawing his gaze to yours. "The four virtues. Your wisdom" He pointed his finger to the line that was closest to your face in the right side. " courage" his finger now rocked the line below. " strength" this time his finger pointed to the top line on the left side. " and… love," he said, touching the last line, the one 'closest' to the heart.

Your eyes collided a second time, in silence as your eyes spoke more clearly than your mouths could. A little tension was created between the two of you, a tension that brought you tranquility and little chills on your arms. " Well, I…" you two said at the same time, you blushed slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. " You first." said the boy, and then let you nod. "Thank you… t-that’s all" you whispered, making him smile. It was the first time you thanked him sincerely. "You don’t have to thank. It’s the least I could do." He said and then moved a few locks of hair behind your ear, touching the flower that was placed right there. " I’m glad you kept it" his eyes pointed at the flower. "Hmm?" you said without understanding. " the flower" also this time you spoke at the same time. "Actually, I wanted to throw it. It was my mother who made it into a jewel" you said honestly, making the boy laugh. " I would have expected it from you. But I do like the idea of you carrying something of mine." Her gaze shifted back to your eyes. " You are shining today" his sweet, sincere tone crashed into your ear as your breathing slowed and your heart accelerated once more. " You too…" to your words Neteyam stroked your cheek with his knuckles, feeling as if you were shivering at contact, and then slipped his hand under your chin. He wanted to kiss you, he was sure that the moment was perfect, your eyes wandered on his face trying not to dwell on his lips, the closeness and the small atmosphere that had been created. Both of you wanted each other, it was so obvious by the way you were talking and how you created tension with a few gestures. The boy was holding back from touching you and kissing you, but you were a magnet to him, exacerbating your hatred of him. You swallowed trying to regain the reason "Neteyam…" you whispered, as to bring back into this world. Neteyam narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, reluctantly removing his hand from your face and backing slightly. " Distance, right?" he said with a slight pinch of frustration. "yeah…distance…" you confirmed while yelling at your heart to calm down.

At that moment some girls approached for Neteyam, beginning to touch him, smearing paint in his body to bless him, while you disappeared from his sight, going to your parents to help them with the preparation of the banquet. In the following hours you had not seen Neteyam, and it was not a problem, indeed it was a fortune, you could not allow yourself to feel strange feelings towards that boy again. Too bad that Uleyte came to you, telling you that Neteyam had gone away with other boys of the clan to the northeast, the little group that was usually known to create problems and great headaches. You remembered that the same group were openly against the Toruk Makto and his family, and there a wake-up call rang in your head, as in the northeast there was the cliff overlooking the part of the clan that lived closest to the sea. Before Uleyte could give you more information, you snapped as fast as you could, you didn’t understand why you were running so fast for someone you said you wanted to see dead. Your friend followed you with difficulty, but you did not notice, you went so fast that you reached the boys in a few minutes, noticing how they were surrounded around Neteyam, while he had his shoulders facing the cliff, a few steps from falling down. Your heart accelerated when you saw the boy so close to danger, you instinctively approached him immediately taking by the braids what was the leader of the group. Your firm grip, as you dragged it back, noticing how the other Na'vi were looking at you in shock. "What’s.going.on.here." You said in an icy tone, before you let go of the braids of na'vi, making it fall backwards. Your body moved toward Neteyam’s, putting you in front of him before giving a furious look to the group, which immediately formed.

" Ma kxìmyu.. We were just joking," said the leader of the group, drawing your icy gaze. " joking? put a na'vi with his back against a precipice is 'joking'?" Your voice was sharp and made the boys look down. Your hands pinched inhospitably.. "I…" he started, before being blocked by you. "If you find it funny, why don’t we try?"You said thinning your eyes, inviting him to take Neteyam’s place, which he reluctantly did. You made him back up, only to see the fear in his eyes. "Funny, isn’t it?" you said when he was just a few steps away from falling. " n-no, it’s not funny but kxìmyu…" the boy looked behind him and at the sides. "Tsk. Go back to your place." You twisted your eyes, at other times you would make him regret even having had that idea, but this was a sacred day, so you had already gone far enough. "Be ashamed. All of you. Bring a guest here under Tskxekeng and do all this on a holy day." You have spoken harshly, reproaching the young men before you, while your finger pointed at each of them threateningly. "If it happens a second time, I won’t be so forgiving, and I’ll make you regret leaving Eywa’s graces. Stand up and ask for forgiveness." The boys did what they said, avoiding your burning look. " Neteyam is a guest of Olo'eykte, do not forget to do something to him and do a wrong to my family. Now go, and hope that you don’t find yourself doing similar things in the future." you said growling. The boys disappeared at the speed of light, making you sigh frustrated by their childish behavior.

Neteyam’s gaze had never changed direction since he saw you coming, and seeing you defend him had been quite exciting. His gaze burned on your body as she bit his lip trying to find the right words. "I apologize for their behavior, you better not trust everyone in this clan so much. There are some not sympathetic to your father, you may get hurt." You said before heading for the forest. " And deprive me of the future Olo'eykte who runs to my rescue?" he said jokingly, following you, while your friend was hiding in the trees not far from you. "You shouldn’t joke about that. Your life was entrusted to my family, if anything happened to you, war would break out." You said as you walked. " So you’re worried about me?" he said trying to reach you, but your steps were fast. "No. I’m worried about my family, you’re just an inconvenience in the middle." Your words made Neteyam laugh. "An inconvenience that interests you." He said to then reach out and take you by the wrist, stopping you and turning you towards him. " I don’t care about you." You hissed facing him, putting yourself face to face. "Your eyes told me otherwise a few hours ago, ma Tanhi," Neteyam had a mocking smile on his face. " You imagine things." you answered while with your hand you were firmly gesturing. "Are you really sure?" He said and then put a hand on your side, gently approaching him. "As if I hadn’t seen how you looked at those girls" he continued, moving his hair behind your neck, brushing some feathers in your hair against your collarbone. "I look at everyone the same way. As I said, you imagine things." Your eyes followed his hand, which moved your hair, and then climbed back to his face. "You shouldn’t lie, it was so obvious your annoyance" He whispered in your ear. His breathing so close made you feel shivers down your spine. "No bother." You said turning your face towards him, your noses touched slightly, your mouths closer than ever. Your eyes met his and your breaths mingled in the air, while your scents intoxicated you and sent electric shocks into your body. "You say that like these eyes aren’t screaming that they want me" he whispered and you hit your noses again, and then he smiled at you. "You didn’t." You swallowed while your eyes couldn’t get away from his. "It’s so obvious that your hatred is just a way to hide your desire." he said by teasing you. "Ma Eywa! You’re so annoying." You said turning your head to the side, only to be forced by Neteyam to look at him. "And you want me." answered immediately after, making you raise your eyes to sky. "I don't- …shut up." your voice was slightly dry and then I heard a giggle coming from Neteyam "Make me." Your eyes darted immediately on his face, not sure you heard it right. " …what’s up-" Neteyam’s smile died out when you femato him from finishing the sentence by pressing your lips against his.

Neteyam remained a moment blocked when your hands landed on his neck and between his braids, managing only to keep you from the hips and the waist. Your tongue made its way through Neteyam’s lips, and when he finally realized that it was really happening, he squeezed you and made the kiss wet and deeper, almost becoming a game for those who dominated over the other. Your hands squeezed and pulled some braids, making him growling in your mouth and then pushing you against a tree and sliding his hands down your body. You panted when he squeezed his grip on your hips, biting his lip slightly; your tongues were eagerly searching for each other just like your hands on your bodies. You only left the kiss when both of you were out of breath, despite this, Neteyam’s mouth began to work your neck immediately, leaving some small bites or wet kisses that made you pant slightly as your head bent backwards leaning against the bark of the tree, closing your eyes. Your lip threatened to break if you continued to bite it so violently, but you had to take care as much as possible of the sound of your wheezing caused by Neteyam laughing against your skin between kisses. You noticed how he went down your collarbones, avoiding even touching your breasts, the same thing happened with your intimacy that was now pulsating. The boy’s tail wrapped around your thigh, as the end touched the back of your thigh. You would have wanted him to touch you more, to feel him work on the points where you needed most, but he just kept teasing you on your neck, jaw or ear. For a second you got your clarity back and you took Neteyam from you, taking long breaths, holding a hand on your face.

"This is wrong. it’s all wrong…" You said breathing hard, then looking at Neteyam. "Is really wrong something that’s made you pant so far?" Neteyam’s voice was slightly more hoarse. " Yes. It’s wrong. Extremely wrong. 'That' will never happen again. Never again." Your finger pointed at his chest as you watched him warily. Neteyam smiled and leaned forward, whispering in your ear "I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, after all it was you who kissed me, ma Tanhì" blew hot air that made you shiver. You didn’t really know how to answer that question, because you knew that he was paradoxically right. "And that’s going to happen again, and you know it’s going to happen again. But you will be the one to ask, always." he concluded, and then he will move away from your ear and kiss the back of your hand gently. "I hate you, Sully." You hissed before you left him and walked back to where the clan was celebrating, "Will you give me another kiss for that?" He said, laughing as you settled in so as not to let anyone know what had happened, ignoring him during the solitary walk that divided you more and more. In addition to Neteyam, that small event had also seen Uleyte from afar, remaining slightly baffled by your change on that occasion…

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