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#not proofread + wrote this in one sitting
stayconnecteed · 2 days
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🪐˓⠀˚⠀foggy glass⠀@⠀hwang hyunjin.
it wasn't something you were in the habit of doing, but it wasn't usually something you could avoid. after all, it was practically impossible to resist your boyfriend when he looked that way. it hadn't even been your fault, you had only done what he asked you to do⠀★⠀1k words
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀;  general m.list⠀☆⠀join taglist .ᐟ
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content: smut,, sub!hyunjin, messy blowjob, mentions of biting / neck kisses. plot,, hyunjin tries to tease you, but it ends with him shuddering under your touch in his car. credits,, mdni banner by @cafekitsune. warnings,, if any under 18 acc interacts with this fic i'll block them. note,, no proofread, i don't even know- i wrote this in a haze ajsdhjasd
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It wasn't something you were in the habit of doing, but it wasn't usually something you could avoid. After all, it was practically impossible to resist your boyfriend when he looked that way, clutching the cushioned surface of his seat with one of his hands, the other tangled in your hair, visibly overwhelmed, his pillowy lips spilling soft whimpers and his eyes fluttering, longing to memorise you but unable to keep them open for too long.
It hadn't even been your fault. He had left you a breathy audio in your chat while you were still at work, full of sighs and hurried whispers in which you could only hear his sweet voice calling for you, and then a brief message inviting you to a new restaurant that had recently opened two blocks south of his dorm. He had murmured something about dressing prettily ーyou didn't know if it was a request for you or a warning about himー, and then texted at what time he'd come to pick you up.
You had only done what he asked you to do. The fact that you had waited until you were sitting in the passenger seat to apply the gloss was a completely casual act, and had nothing to do with how much you knew Hyunjin liked the look on your face when you stared at yourself in the mirror, the pad of lipstick leaving a glossy surface on your lips that made him lick his own, almost hungrily.
He had confessed it to you a few months ago, in the middle of a hot make-out session on the sofa in the rehearsal room, when you had seized the opportunity to touch your boyfriend in the way he loved the most, no one left in the building. And you could see the reflection of his blurry gaze now, in the mirror you always carried with you, your eyes fixed in the vicious way he reacted to your motions, his eyes locked on your mouth. It was addictive, and you knew what turned him on the most was the way you looked down with a sharp gaze, the way you did when you rode him.
It was also addictive the way he responded to everything you did to him without needing to say a word. You knew he wouldn't protest if you leaned into him, but you were surprised by the hungry way his lips crashed into yours as soon as he had you close enough, all tongue and teeth, as if he intended to devour you whole. You let out an airy laugh, taking his face in your hands and ignoring the way your gloss was sticking to him, savoring its strawberry taste as soon as the kiss became so chaotic that you could only think mine, mine, mine…
You felt him give you two quick taps against your hip, hinting that he wanted you in his lap, but you ignored him, peeling your lips from his with a quick bite that left him whining for more, and pressing them against his neck, sucking above his beautiful mole, sliding your tongue over his skin and your hand down his abs until it rested over the bulge in his pants. You smiled, chuckling against his mouth, palming his erection, enjoying the way he stirred under your hands, overtaken by your touch and so adorably desperate for some friction, his throat producing the most delicious sounds.
Hyunjin tried to pull you back to him, wetting his lips as if he could feel yours on his again, or perhaps with the ghost of your last kiss still in his mouth. You tangled your hand in his hair, letting him keen towards the warmth of your palm, your breath on his skin, but tugging slightly at his locks before he could touch you. You swallowed the mewl that got stuck in his throat, and also the way his hips stuttered beneath you, and you could almost see the way his eyes slammed shut as you began to undo the button of his pants, sliding the zipper down and making him sit up a little so you could bend over his cock, pulling it out of his boxers and sucking the tip between your lips.
His shaky moan interrupted a breathless “fuck”, the sudden warm wetness around him as your gave him tentative little bobs making his head go dizzy. You tighten the hand you have around the base of his shaft, his low groan making you shiver, and you pull away for a while, your gaze falling over him. He looks completely wrecked already, his hair dishevelled by his own hand, a bead of drool about to spill from the corner of his lips.
You smile, still making eye contact with him, his cheeks stained in carmine, and kitten lick the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, humming. Hyunjin’s hips bucked helplessly, slurring a lazy “please, please, please” with broken voice, pouty under your touch. You slowly graze his dick with your teeth, the hiss he lets out contradicting the salty taste of pre-cum you taste on your tongue.
“Ah, ah, ahー baby, your mouthー” he slurred, his thigh tense and twitching under your hand, arousal pooling in the pit of his stomach. “Soー nghー so good…”
You pull back a second time, his whimper curving your lips, and you ask, voice hoarse “Mm-hm, feels good, baby boy?”
“Ohー Oh, God, so good” choking back a loud whine, dropping his head against the car window, his cheek sticking to the wet glass, his breathing drawing wisps of smoke against the surface, the condensation blurring the pornographic view of your boyfriend on the empty street where he had parked the car. You sank back down and suck him further into your mouth, his babblings becoming nonsense as soon as they left his lips, and you felt his cock throb in your mouth as you gently grasped his balls, feeling when he came down your throat, spilling moans into the car. You never make it to the restaurant.
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© stayconnecteed 2024 · do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms
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mydearestdaryl · 21 hours
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𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧
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Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞
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“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a genuine laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.
“I really am,” you replied breathlessly, finally able to catch your breath after cackling at your joke.
“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”
“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”
“I. Don't. Know.”
“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye, pressing his lips together to hold a smile back. “Please, I-” you started, but interrupted yourself as a commotion reached your ears from the camp. You recognized Daryl's voice.
Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday. You felt a little annoyed that they ignored T-Dog's request to let him tell Daryl, but oh well.
“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.
“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' you wanna tell me?”
“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated, apparently with confidence. “He's still there.”
You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene.
Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, “Le' me process this,” said he while turning to face Rick again, clearly growing irritated. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!” His veins popped as his voice got raspier as he yelled at the other man.
Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”
Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, he pulled a knife from its holster, swinging it at the former cops, but being stopped in a matter of seconds.
In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Ya best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.
“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.
“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.
“'Kay, file a complaint,” If this situation was not so tense, you would've laughed. You did a little on the inside. Rick kneeled in front of the restrained man as Shane spoke again. “C'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”
“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.
Panting and growling, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should, if they asked you. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly. Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”
“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key. I dropped it.”
“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about his brother when his brother was everything he had. You couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him.
“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”
Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'
“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”
“It's gotta count for something,” Rick piped in.
Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”
“He'll show you,” Lori stated, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.
“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.
You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.
“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.
You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.
After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. You were suddenly hesitant to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but before you took one step, his voice reached your ears.
“Whaddaya doin' here?”
You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”
“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.
“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on the ground as you spoke before meeting his.
His gaze remained on yours, before studying your face, finding nothing but the truth.
He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid. Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.
“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' pain in the ass? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.
He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.
You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back. Your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm- I'm so sorry, really.”
Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.
Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance. Exploring the taste of each other, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.
Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.
“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.
“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty confident as if you knew, which gave him the confidence when he left on the search for his brother later that day.
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Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick forest. The evening that started so peacefully suddenly turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie.
Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur. Tunnel vision, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.
You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling a pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders. His voice sounded distant asking if you were okay over and over. But you couldn't answer, you weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.
His loud voice calling your name finally snapped you out of your trance. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.
“Were ya bitten? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nealy manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel to make sure the skin of your arms was intanct.
“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.
Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.
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After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for the morning, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.
He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled for a bit as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your back with his free hand.
You looked up to find his eyes on yours. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It was like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.
Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.
His hands slid under your shirt, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing. He hummed in satisfaction, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going, but he stopped after a few moments, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.
“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.
You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”
“'M sure,” he said without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap so you could straddle him. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him moan into your mouth.
You were straight-up grinding into his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “not yet, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.
Your clothed cunt clenched on air, as you closed your eyes and moaned, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement tenting in his pants as well.
He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress. After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, albeit still reluctant, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties at the same time as his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.
His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.
He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.
With a hand on your hip, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, being apparently unsuccessful.
“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.
“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, changing again to suck on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”
Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue, feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.
“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.
“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants.
“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.
“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and knawing on his bottom lip. “I have- I....”
“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”
“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see those yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.
“You're so strong,” you whispered.
His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your now-familiar mouths found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.
His erection hit your thighs making you pull away. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.
He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt again. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”
“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”
He hummed in satisfaction, leaning to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. You were wet and ready enough, so the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you.
He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”
He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck and breasts. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.
He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he made love to you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a work of art just like that.
“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”
“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.
His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.
Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your face lazily.
Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.
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the-kr8tor · 12 hours
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It is done
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damnedbeauty77 · 2 days
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leon kennedy x fem!reader
!MDNI!
cw: smut, p in v, reader a little traumatised, vanilla and protected, swearing. idk how to do this
summary: reader meets leon, her possible future boss, in a bar with jill and chris.
notes: this is my first time writing smut, did proofread and edit before publishing, if u have any ideas for improvement just dm me x
words: 2.1k
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i sit at the bar, leaning over to ask the bartender for a pink gin. what can i say, it looks pretty. my friend went home with some girl already, leaving me with myself at 10.30 at night.
it's fine. it's whatever. i could meet someone. i could have fun.
"hi there."
a guys takes the stool next to me.
i smile. he's cute. he has light, silver-y hair, parted to the side in a messy style. very much, my type.
"hi there." i respond lightly. i might be little drunk.
"i'm leon. what's your name?" he asks, putting an elbow on the bar to tap his fingers on his wood. i have to stop myself from giggling.
"y/n... are you going to buy me a drink?" i twirl my my hair lazily and leon almost copies my movements, brushing his hair back with his left hand. i wonder if he has a bald spot.
"of course. what are you having?"
"well, i'm actually looking to try something new. ive been drinking gin since i was 16. what would you recommend?"
"well, for a pretty girl like you, id have to say a cocktail. vodka, maybe... sex on the beach?"
...
"you work in the bsaa? i literally applied there yesterday!" i laugh. "yeah, well, kind of. i work with them in the dso."
my mouth drops a little in shock. "no way, you're leon kennedy? one of the—"
"founders, yes." leon sighs, laughing. "i really didn't expect all of this to come up when i decided to come talk to you."
i stop and blink a little. i forgot what he was really here for, at least for a moment. "well, shit. sorry. i mean like.. we can still go somewhere, if you want." his eyes widen a little. "no, no i'm sorry. i like talking to you. i was going to ask for your number- my friends are still here." he signals to a table in the corner of the bar. a man and a woman laugh together as they drink.
i smile. "oh, i've been keeping you from them."
"not at all, they told me to talk to you - encouraged me."
"well i hope you don't have a bet going, because i was starting to like you."
leon laughs. "really?"
"don't be smug. do you still want my number?" it feels so normal. "yes."
i wrote it out on a napkin and gave it to him.
"can i meet your friends? that guy is pretty hot." i tease him, making him bit his lower lip. a tinge of jealously emanates off of him. "i thought the girl would be more your type." he replies. i nod. "she is."
i follow leon to the table. he introduces me.
"this is y/n." he says to them. "hi. it's nice to meet you." i reply. "that's chris redfield, and that's jill valentine."
"hi." the girl says to me. oh my god, she is actually really gorgeous. "sit with us." she says, opening the seat next to her as leon takes a seat next to chris. i look at chris. he makes eye contact for a second, then looks away as he drinks his beer.
"i love your jacket." i tell jill. she's wearing black leather, i'm assuming faux based on her haircut.
"thank you, i got it from a thrift store, i think..." she replies. knew it. "i love your top. it's really sexy." she says. i look down. i'm wearing a black mesh top with a black bra underneath. "oh shit. i really forget whenever i wear this shirt.. then wonder why everyone is staring at my tits." i take a drink. i notice jill looking at my tits for a second before clearing her throat. "totally. i see the appeal." she says. then she puts a hand to her head in embarrassment. i laugh. "you're very brave."
"chris, y/n said she was applying to the bsaa." leon changes the subject, turning to me. "he works there right now."
i straighten up my posture, "oh well, i hope you forget everything i do tonight and put in a good word for me."
chris nods. "I'll ask about you." he replies. i feel a bit shouldered. is he emotionally unavailable? is that why i'm so attracted to him?
"what do you do, now?" jill asks me. "i was in the airforce, for just about 4 years." i say. "i've been kind of working a bunch of different jobs, i was in the nypd, until last month."
"airforce. you hear that chris?" jill laughs a little, looking at me. "i was in the airforce as well, when i was younger." chris elaborates. "what base were you?"
"active duty. but honestly, they kind of kept me behind the scenes. i can fly a jet, but i guess i'm just better on a computer."
"see, us girls gotta stay together." jill pushes my shoulder. jesus christ, how many drinks has she had?
"yeah, of course. girl." i smile. "what do you guys do?" leon spluffs. "oh, you know. just bsaa stuff. bioterrorism, security..." he trails off. "what are the two a's again?" he asks chris. he laughs a bit, letting out a little sigh.
...
by around 12am, i start to feel exhausted. we've been talking and drinking for hours, and i just want to... i don't know. go home? but i want to stay with them at the same time...
i check my watch. "it's getting pretty late. i think i might go home." i look at chris for a reaction. he does give me a look of respect, i know when to stop.
"no way, you've drank way too much. i'll call you a cab." leon protests.
"no, no, i only live like a mile from here."
"then i'll walk you home." he insists. i smile. "really? you'd do that?" jill and chris talk in the background. leon smiles in return. "yeah. of course."
i nod.
he walks me out the bar, at one point placing a hand on the small of my waist at one point, making me let go of consciousness.
"you know, i'm staying just down that way." he points with two fingers to a lane next to us. "if you want, you can stay at my place for the night."
my face totally flushes. "um, i wouldn't mind that." not the first time ive fucked someone i met the first night after meeting them. leon's nice though. i think he would call me.
"okay.. good." he says. he turns to me for moment, looking into my eyes. then, kisses me softly. i feel blood rush to my brain in satisfaction and arousal.
"thanks for coming to talk to me tonight. i probably would have left if you didn't." i tell him, putting my arms around his neck as he lets go of my ass... when did he managed to slip his hands there??
he leads me down the streets, his hand around my waist as he flirts shamelessly. then as he's about to open the door to go inside, he stops and looks at me.
"this isn't.. going too fast, or anything, right?"
"i'm fine with it as long as you are. we don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"no, no- i want to. i want to." he almost whines. his tone makes me smile. "good." i repeat him, kissing him again as he fumbles to get the door open.
he tastes like liquor.
i clear my throat, leaning into him. "can i go freshen up?"
he stammers a bit, face red. "yeah, the bathroom is down the hall to the left." he says. i nod, kissing him again before going. i wash under my eyes a bit for makeup, do my business, wash my hands again, then go back out.
leon is on the couch, tv on. he's put on closer. one of my favourites that i mentioned in the bar!
"oh my god, this movie is so sexy." i say, sitting down next to him. "well, i wanted to see what the fuss was about." he says, leaning back and taking a smoke.
"natalie portman, is the fuss." i say, placing my head next to his shoulder on the couch. "wow. you're right. they are all hot." leon laughs a bit, putting a rough hand on my thigh. he draws circles with his thumb over my skin. i look up at him, biting my lip.
i start unbuckling his jeans quickly, kissing him again, this time it looks sloppier, messier. "fuck, y/n." he groans as i palm him through his black calvin kleins. "these are hot.." i comment. "did you know you'd come home with someone to fuck tonight?" i ask innocently. he denies it. "wanted you as soon as i saw you."
i take off the mesh top jill complimented earlier. leon runs his hands all over my hips, waist and plays with the straps on my bra. i take off his shirt before he can do anything with my bra, then strip down my skirt as he pulls down his trousers. he lies sideways on the couch as i crawl over him, kissing his neck, trying to find the spot that makes him moan the most. "do you.. do you have a condom?" leon breathes out.
"yeah, hold on." i say, turning to the side of the couch with my bag leaning on it, opening it rapidly to take out the condom.
i rip it apart, seeing as he's already hard, i put it over his dick without even thinking. it's pretty big. like 7 inches at least. leon fingers me from underneath me, pushing my thong to the side. i moan and kiss his chest, licking a strip from above his dick to before the little line of blond hair at his bellybutton. he loves that, gripping my hair and pulling it up a little. "should i give you head or something, before?" he asks quietly. i shake my head. "i'll be fine. thank you, though." i smile through kisses down his chest, his fingers brushing over my clit. i line myself up as leon takes out his fingers, sinking down on him as i grab onto him shoulders. he sits up a bit, taking my waist with two hands to guide me back and forth on his dick. i roll my hips, kissing him roughly as i run my hands through his hair, combing it through my fingers. his neighbours had to have been hearing us.
leon rubs my clit with one finger as i start lifting myself up and down on him, legs wrapped around him at this point for the best angle. "please, please say my name." he asks quietly. i smile. "what? i can't hear you, baby." i tease him, kissing his ear. he leans his neck back, kissing my lips. "say my name, y/n." he asks again, a bit more commanding this time. and perfectly, he hits my g-spot with a thrust. "leon.. ughh, leon." i moan softly, and he replies by digging his nails into my back. "can i go on top.." he asks a little shy. i nod, letting him push me into my back, landing my head flawlessly onto a loose pillow. he pushes into me again, going significantly faster as he holds up the back of my knees beside his hips.
i see his eyes close for moment, and i feel his dick twitch a little in me. is he about to cum? i can barely read his face.
"fuck, you feel so fucking good." he says. i lean my head back a little, encouraging him to drive as far into me as possible. "oh my god, leon.." i groan, grabbing onto the sofa, scratching the fabric. i moan loud as i cum.
leon quickly follows with a low guttural groan to pair with his stalled thrusts.
i give him a kiss as he pulls out, almost immediately passing out on the couch. he throws the condom in a trash can, collapsing next to me, still naked.
"that was good. you're really good at that." leon says, wiping his forehead a little. i smile, thanking him. "it wasn't your first time, right?" i joke. he laughs, shrugging. "first time having sex with someone i met the same night. also, first time having sex pretty drunk." he confesses, making me laugh a bit. "my apologies if i have trouble remembering this. if i get the job, i mean."
"fuck, i totally forget that you might be working for me in a week... don't mention it to HR, right?" he slides on his boxers again. "so, you're my dirty secret now?" i ask. "if it helps to think of that way, then absolutely." he puts his shirt back on. "you want something else to wear? can't imagine that's comfortable." he points to my tight lace bra and panties.
"if you got a big shirt, i'll take it. want to finish the movie?"
"sure, but you'll have to catch me up." leon smiles coyly.
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m45wood · 2 days
Text
Break My Heart
Sal x Male Reader
Summary: You’ve grown distant with Sal after you figured out about what you’ll do after this school semester. (College)
WC: 2k
Warnings: Smoking of Cannabis, Mention of tobacco use, Hurt No Comfort, Character Death, Reader overthinks, Sal Comforts, Depression, Loss, Suicide 2x, Reader Comforts. NOT PROOFREAD.
A/N: Was high when I wrote this. First post hope you enjoy!!
Sal rests on your legs. Your hands trancing his arms up and down. You currently lay on the ground smoking weed while he lays and sleeps. Larry is sat across to you two smoking a blunt. You’re all watching a random movie on one of the channels. You aren’t paying attention to it more focused on the blue haired boy on your lap. A small corner window is open. Let some of the smell out you Sal doesn’t want to get second hand high. Sal wasn’t by means a goody two shoes. He’s smoked a cigarette every once in a while but doesn’t like how weed makes him feel. Alcohol also made him feel off. You understood that, never did anything in front of him but Larry. Well it’s Larry, it’s quite usual for him.
“Your dad was over last night” Travis says exhaling softly. Sal grunts eyeing Travis. The subject of Larry’s Mom and Sals dad getting together was quite an odd subject matter. Sal was always out on edge. You could tell by his shoulders hiking up. You softly stroked Sals hair. “Want to go get slushies?” You asks wanting to get out of the cramped basement. He nods. He sits up and you pull yourself up as well. You usually do this to just take a walk. Larry denies the request to go and continue watching the random action movie sequence. As you get ready to leave the house you see Sal going without his mask. You smiles at him and close the door behind him after he steps outside. You both begin a small walk. The wind blows a bit causing your hair to move in different directions. “Windy. Hope your hair doesn’t get caught in a branch like that one time” You say to him. He chuckles. His hood is up covering most of his face with his hands inside his jacket pockets back hunched over. “Gotta fix that posture man” As you approach a cross section you pull out a cigarette and slowly begin to light it when you cross the road. “Want some?” you ask passing it over. He nods his head now. You nod and continue.
You both finally arrive nodding at the cashiers greeting. You both grab a big cup and fill it to the top. You grab a couple snacks and send Larry a text to see what kind of gummies he wants (the shark ones). Head down, sal follows you to the worker. “How’s your night going?” The worker says in politeness. “Well, how about you?” You reply as the worker continues the small talk and gives the bag of goods. You both give a thanks and walk out. You pass the slushie to him and grip the bag tighter. “Do you know what you’re going to do after this semester ends?” He asks you.
This is a subject neither of you have talked about. You both know that Sal is going to stay and you want to leave. You haven’t planned anything because you don’t want to leave him. You don’t want it to become a reality. You shrug. “I don’t have any plan really” You lie. He can tell. You won’t face him. You look up whenever you’re uncomfortable. He looks down at his face. “Same” The walk back is silent and almost a clear wall between you two.
“Here are the sharks” You say throwing the bag to Larry as it hits his face and his nose scrunches. “Thanks” He grabs the bag off his face and tears it open. Sal sits on the couch. You frown at this action knowing he’s ignoring you now. You lay on the ground this time.
Too much time has passed. It’s time to tell Sal what you’re going to do. “Sal, can we talk?” You say at his door. He turns to you. “Yeah what’s up?” he ask leaning on his elbows. You take a deep breath and close the door. “I finally know what i’m going to do” You state looking at him. His mask is still causing you not to know what his reaction might be. Just solely by his eye and body language. You’ve learned to read his expression and body language after years of dating and being friends. He nods encouraging to go on. You stare at him and then stare at your shoes. “I’m planning on going out of state. I got an opportunity to study elsewhere and I really want to go. I won’t be home for long time but it will be a while considering it’s 2 semesters” You stare up at him. He’s emotionless. Not because of his mask. His body is still. Breathing normal and his eyes are just glossy. “Sal?”
“I felt this coming” He says staring at you. “We’ve been distant don’t you think?” He questions. You nod. “It’s like you don’t want to see me. Like you feel guilty. I hate that” He says. It’s something he’s talked to you about. He doesn’t want peoples guilt or pity. He just wants to be treated normal. You always understood. Always did your best. Until now. You’ve grown distant and your eyes stare how you feel about him. How your eyes divert every where. Never catching his eye. Magnets with the same poles. Repelling each other. The distance growing stronger with the energy growing. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t want to lose you” You say. “You aren’t going to lose me over something simple” He says leaning over to look at you. “I think my brain is just thinking of the worst,” you say eyes filling with tears, “what if you find someone better while i’m gone?” You state. He smiles at you. You can tell by his eye. “No one is better than you. I should be the one scared” He says. “Don’t say that. I would never do that” You say grabbing his hands. “Okay i won’t but see. You care so much how could i ever leave you” You stare at him knowing he’s right. Your love for him is stronger than distance. You love him so much it’s suffocating. It wraps you two so tightly together you can’t even believe to think about someone else. You smile. “Can i kiss you?” You ask. He nods. You place your lips onto his cold masks lips. He lets out a small giggle and unhooks his mask. “Better?” “Better”
Your studying has gone great. The program you’re in thankfully covered everything. Housing, food, finances, and classes. Every weekend you had either school work to do or could go and explore the big city. It was quite pleasant. You called Sal when you could. It wasn’t often but you did send letters to each other. They were sweet and handwritten. It smelled like him and it smelled like you. It was always the highlight of your week. The closer you got to the first semester the more busy you got. You wanted to finish everything early to show up early. You wanted to surprise Sal. You had bought many things for him, and of course your other friends, but many reminded you of Sal. You missed Sal so much. Your heart would ache.
“Hey Sal,
I hope you are doing well! I found a cat yesterday. He was missing an eye just like you. He really reminded me of you.”
You were writing Sal a letter when your phone began to ring. It was Ash. She called you every once in a while as she also went out of state so you both could relate. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Larry’s Dead”
Those were the first words you heard from Ash. They rung in your ear. A constant ring. You had finally made it back to your hometown. You made an emergency call to your professors and educators. Once you had everything settled you rushed back. You have your condolences to Larry’s mom. To Sal’s dad. Next was to visit Sal. You had talked to Ash when you arrived and when she called. You rushed to Sals home. “Sal!” You say opening the door. You run towards his bedroom and knock. You open it and see Sal in bed. His face is wet. His pillowcase is soaked. “Sal…” You say softly walking to him. He eyes you. “(Name) Why?” he croaks, “Why would he do something so stupid?” You hold him as he sobs into your shirt. You rub his back as your eyes starts to cry.
You didn’t just lose one of your best friends. You lost those around you. The happiness of those around you. Those you care about experience loss. Once again. You all have felt loss but somehow this one was different. Larry was everything to everyone. To his mom he was sanctuary. Pleasant reminder of the past and how it does get better. For Sal his first friend in a new town after his tragic loss. He was your best friend. He was Ash’s best friend. He meant so much to those around him. Him being gone never felt real. It all felt like you were living in a nightmare. Nothing was real. Nothing felt authentic. It was all imitating reality. As if there had been a glitch and Larry somehow managed to disappear.
With time people healed. As much as they could. Ash went back to study. Larrys mom tried her best to move on. She got a new job and moved somewhere with Sals dad. Sal though, he stayed. He stayed and you knew you had to stay with him. But you still had school. You were, once again, stuck. With Larry’s loss you both grew apart once again. You both grieved differently. You tried to find peace with his decision. Sal tried to understand it.
“You don’t get it. If i don’t know why he did it i’ll live my life with regret and guilt” Sal says facing away from you. “Sal, your healing is your own but even if you don’t know the reason it isn’t your fault. None of us could’ve guessed he was going to do it. If we had we would’ve done something. You know this better than anyone” You say getting up from the dinner table. “You don’t know that” He says softly, inaudible to you. “Sal, sweetie” You say and he interrupts you. “You weren’t there! You don’t know that!” He burst out on you. You stare shocked as his eye widens and face contorts into displeasure. “You weren’t even here” He says tears running down his cheeks. “Sal, i came here as soon as i could” You say staring at your shoes. “You left me. You left me and Larry.” He says crying by this point. “How could you just leave us?” He says sobbing sitting back down into his chair. “You left me. Me!” He says flipping his face towards you. “You don’t understand me” He pushes his face into his arms. He lets out sobs. “Sal” Your voice croaks as tears fall down your cheek. You wrap your arms around him and he begins to thrash. “Stop! Stop! You’re not him. You’re not him…” You let go immediately watching his figure thrash aggressively. “Sal please…I’m sorry” Sal continues to sob. “You weren’t here you weren’t here” You stare at sals trembling frame. “Leave! LEAVE” He yells at you. His face once again contorted with anger. Tears in your eyes you walk out.
Sal hasn’t spoken to you in months. You decided to not bother him. Maybe he was right? Why did you leave? If you stayed would Larry still be alive? Would you and Sal be happy together? Would you and Sal be falling in love even harder than before? All these questions. The nagged you. Made you want to rip your skin off. Made you want to plunge out your eyes. You decided to stay where you were studying. You began to rent an apartment. It was a studio. One bath. There wasn’t much to your room. A bed, TV, table, chairs, dresser, and cabinet. After your “break up” with Sal you thought on what he talked about. What if you figured out what happened to Larry? Would he come back to you? Will the boy who gave you reason to live, to breath, want you back? To the man who ran in your blood. Made you want to live take you back. Love you again?
“Hey Sal, I love you”
Sal looks at the note. It’s from a week ago. It reads about your day. About the cat you saw. The bagel you had, and the book you had just boughten. It had grown wrinkled with the tears decorating it. Sals face hunched over it. He loves you, he really does. He never stopped loving you. No matter how hard he tried to forget about you. The feeling in his heart grew empty and emptier with the time without you grew. He never would’ve said what he said. He doesn’t know why he said it. He knows it wasn’t your fault. He knew that. He just wanted someone to blame. It could’ve been anyone that day. But it just so happened to be the man he loved the most.
“You never deserved him” Sal heard from behind him. He turns and sees Ash. The last time he had seen her was Larry’s funeral. She cut her hair really short. “I know” He says voice raspy. “Your hairs long” He looks at the strands of hair covering his mask. He nods. “His last few months was him figuring what happened with Larry. His head was always in a book about suicide or depression affects on the brain. He probably grew suicidal with always reading about the effects.” Ash says. Sals guilt grows heavier. It’s like a 800 lb boulder on top of him. He loved you. He really did. He was scared, he was hurting, he was…a hypocrite. “You broke his heart”
Cause of death: Takotsubo cardiomyopathy
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heartless-aro · 4 months
Text
So much of the arophobia directed towards aromantic heterosexual men seems to be rooted in willful ignorance about what aromanticism actually is and how allosexual aromanticism differs from sexual objectification. Aromanticism is experiencing little to no romantic attraction towards others. That’s it. It isn’t the same as sending unsolicited dick picks to strangers or reducing women to their bodies. When a misogynistic man disregards a woman’s personhood in favor of treating her as a sexual object, it isn’t because he doesn’t experience romantic attraction to women. It’s because he chooses not to value women as people.
That has nothing to do with whether or not the man in question experiences romantic attraction. You can respect someone’s personhood without being romantically attracted to them. In fact, if you can’t respect a woman’s personhood without being attracted to her, then that is misogynistic. However, there is nothing inherently misogynistic about finding a woman sexy (even if you aren’t romantically interested in her!), nor is there anything inherently misogynistic about having casual sex with a woman who has enthusiastically consented to having casual sex. (Because, yes. Women CAN consent to having casual sex without being tricked into it via false promises of romance. Women are fully capable of deciding for themselves what they want to do with their bodies. Just because a woman does something with her body that makes you uncomfortable—like casual sex—doesn’t mean she’s a helpless victim who needs you to rescue her from her own autonomy.)
It also just seems so bizarre to me to claim that aromantic heterosexual men don’t face any stigma related to their aromanticism. Do you really think a man who has never had a crush on a woman won’t face any stigma for that? If a heterosexual man says that he has never gone on a date or has never had his first kiss, how do people react to that? Social norms for how men engage with romance are different from how women are expected to engage with romance; that doesn’t change the fact that men are still expected to engage with romance in certain normative ways.
Of course, aromanticism is not the same as just not going on dates or not kissing people. That is just one of many ways that aromanticism can look. But aromantic experiences are diverse, so it’s difficult to give a one-size-fits-all example of how aromantic heterosexual people are affected by arophobia. What I’m trying to express here is that aromantic people often don’t engage with romance in the way that society expects us to (if we engage with romance at all) and that, furthermore, men are often perceived differently when they do not conform to those expectations.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months
Text
live like a kook
Tumblr media
words: 5.2k
the camerons take you in after your house is destroyed in a hurricane, giving you a month to live like a kook
warnings: enemies to lovers, lots of pogues vs kooks dynamic, rafe being mean to reader, reader is john bs cousin, food insecurity/mentions of going hungry, cursing
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs
“dad, this is fucking ridiculous. no way am i sharing my home with a fucking pogue.” rafe argues, his voice raising higher and higher as the fight goes on.
“well, get over it rafe. we are doing our part for the community, this girls house got destroyed in the hurricane, she’s staying here for the next month. end of story.” ward says firmly, hoping to temper his sons anger before you arrive.
“bullshit, you don’t care about helping the pogues, all you want is to look like a good guy.” rafe runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead. “it’s not safe. we can’t trust them, what if she steals from us?”
ward pauses. it’s something he did think about, which is why he went through the house and hid the most valuable items, locking them away in a secret safe. “you keep an eye on her then, rafe.”
it’s the end of the conversation as ward walks out of the room, even after rafe continues after him, not accepting his dads solution. wards patience with his son is about to bubble over when the doorbell rings.
ward gives rafe a pointed look to calm himself down, or at least be quiet about his disdain as he opens up the door to reveal you standing there, only carrying a backpack, fitting all of your belongings after losing almost everything in the hurricane.
“hello, mr. cameron, i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out, accepting the firm but friendly shake ward gives you.
“y/n?”
you look around ward into the house, making eye contact with a shocked rafe.
“you didn’t tell me it was- her who was going to be staying here.” rafe spits, looking at his dad, nostrils flaring in anger.
“rafe, watch yourself.” ward warns, stepping back from the door and beckoning you over the threshold.
“hi rafe.” you say quietly. you had foolishly hoped that rafe wouldn’t mind you staying here. it’s not like you ever really interact, but you know that he doesn’t get along with your cousin john b.
ward gives you a tour of the house, introducing you to rose and wheezy, and the whole time rafe stalks behind you, silent and domineering. 
“thank you again for letting me stay here.” you say when ward shows you what is to be your room for the next month, situated between rafes and sarahs, who is currently out, probably with your cousin.
“of course.” ward says. “i’ll give you some time to unpack, we are serving dinner in around an hour.” “okay.” you nod, heading into your room, shutting the door carefully behind you. you glance around the opulent bedroom, so unlike what you are used to, large sweeping curtains covering the windows, sturdy wooden furniture, and best of all, the huge bed covering most of the floor.
you drop your backpack, letting yourself flop back onto the bed, letting out a laugh when you realize that even the ceiling is beautiful. 
you weren’t sure what to expect when you got told that there were some people opening up their homes for those who lost theirs due to the hurricane, but you certainly never expected it to be the camerons, or any other rich kooks.
you’re still smiling to yourself when your door bursts open. your eyes widen as rafe takes up the entire doorway, not asking permission before barging into your room and slamming the door forcefully behind him.
“hey!” you shout, swinging your legs to the side of the bed and turning to stare at rafe. 
“shut up.” rafe warns, quickly crossing the space between the door and the bed, hovering over you. “i want to make one thing very clear.” he holds up his pointer finger, pausing as you flicker your eyes from his hand back to his face. “do not touch anything in this house. if you steal like your loser pogue cousin, i will know. i will be watching you.”
rafe doesn’t say anything more, he doesn’t need to, turning and walking out of the room, leaving your door flung wide open, not bothering to even shut it behind him. you shiver at the warning, not that you planned on stealing, but you did plan on a peaceful stay here, and it seems like rafe is committed to the exact opposite.
you stand and shut your door, this time making sure to lock it.
--
“that’s screwed into the wall.” rafes voice suddenly rings down the hallway, making you jump away from the painting.
“i wasn’t going to steal it.” you grumble, crossing your arms. you were still familiarizing yourself with the house, spending some time wandering alone, but around every corner, rafe is there.
“then what were you doing staring it?” he questions.
“admiring the art, if that’s so hard to believe. yes, rafe,” you say with a sigh “even a dirty dumb pogue like me can appreciate a painting.”
“well then you don’t mind if i stand here and watch as you appreciate it.” rafe crosses his arms, muscles bulging. you turn back to the painting, looking over the landscape scene, but rafes eyes are drilling holes into you, and just like he wanted, you quickly get too frustrating, groaning and stomping away.
you head out into the garden, needing a breath of fresh air and to look upon the ocean. 
“he’s an asshole.”
you jump, not realizing wheezie was in the hammock you stopped next to.
“what?” you question.
“rafe. he’s an asshole.” “you said it, not me.” you sigh, taking the hair tie off your wrist and pulling your hair into a ponytail as the wind picks up.
“just try and avoid him when he gets in his pissy moods. he’s not like this all the time.” wheezie gives you a piece of advice as she swings her legs over the side of the hammock, heading back inside.
you watch her until she’s all the way in, before glancing up and realizing that rafe is watching you as well. your brow scrunches in anger and you turn, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you angry again.
you head towards the expansive dock, marveling at how far it stretches out into the ocean as you plop down on the wood, swinging your feet over the edge. your eyes are on the horizon as gray clouds roll in, probably a cell from the recent hurricane that broke off.
you keep your back turned to the house, not wanting to retreat yet as you watch the storm roll in, scenting the air change as the temperature drops. you wrap your arms around yourself to keep warm as the wind picks up, but the rain still hasn’t reached you yet.
you daydream about living in a house like tanneyhill. not for a month, but for your whole life. of getting out of your small cottage, now being rebuilt by your deadbeat dad, and living a life of luxury like the camerons.
strong hands grab onto your upper arms, pulling you to a standing position like you weigh nothing. “what are you doing?” rafe asks, shaking you slightly, his eyes wide with what you think might be worry.
“get off of me!” you shout, pulling yourself out of his hold.
“do you want to get yourself sick? it’s cold, and there’s a storm coming in. get inside.” rafe stares at you expectantly as the first sprinkles of rain starts to fall. you want to fight, to push back, but you also don’t want to get soaked, walking past rafe without acknowledging him as you both head into the house just before the downpour hits.
rafe doesn’t even glance at you as he pushes past, heading to his room.
--
“y/n, you wanna come with me?” sarah asks, slinging her bag over her shoulder, probably going to spend another night at john b’s. she’s been away from tanneyhill more often then she’s been here ever since you arrived.
you glance at rafe who is sitting on the couch, phone in hand. you’re not sure if he’s even paying attention to whats going on.
“sure.” you reply, “just give me a second to get changed.”
“alright, john b will be here in 5 minutes in the twinkie.” sarah heads outside to wait as you move up the stairs, taking off your leggings and opting for a pair of shorts instead, slipping your tennis shoes on.
you gasp in surprise when you open the door and run right into rafes wide chest.
“i heard you’re going to hang out with the dirty pogues.” rafe says, taking a step back when you push against his chest. you know he’s choosing to let you by, and if he wanted to he could have stood firm.
“in case you forgot, rafe-” you shoot him a pointed look as you head down the stairs. “i am one of those dirty pogues.” rafe stays put as you head outside, and you’re thankful to get some time away tanneyhill as the twinkie pulls down the street.
“hey, it’s my favorite cousin!” john b shouts when he sees you getting in along with sarah.
“john b, i’m your only cousin.” you roll your eyes, turning to watch out the window as tanneyhill disappears from view.
it’s nice to catch up with your friends and cousin, spending the afternoon relaxing and talking around a campfire. you are especially happy pope is here, always getting along so well with him.
“there they go again.” pope sighs when kiara starts to fight with jj, both of you rolling your eyes at each other, wishing they’d just work through whatever repressed feelings they have for each other.
“hey, john b, can you give me a ride back to tanneyhill?” you ask, noticing it’s start to get dark.
“aw, can’t you just stay here?” john b asks, his tongue obviously loosened by the beer he was sipping on. “i hate that my cousin is there, taking the kooks charity.” “just because you don’t want any help doesn’t mean that i can’t accept it.” you say, raising your voice. “besides, you knew our house got destroyed and you didn’t even reach out. you were too busy with sarah.”
you stomp away from the chateau, heading down the dirt driveway, determined to walk back to tanneyhill if john b wouldn’t give you a ride.
“y/n! wait!” if it was john b calling for you, you wouldn’t have stopped, but you turn to face sarah. 
“listen-” you interrupt her before she can speak. “i’m not mad at you. i’m not even mad at john b. i’ve just been through a lot and want to go ho- back to tanneyhill.” “i’m sorry.” sarah pulls you into a hug, one that you didn’t realize you needed that much. “john b’s probably too drunk to drive. i texted rafe to come pick you up.”
you sigh, trying not to let your disappointment show on your face. you really don’t want to spend time alone with rafe, but you thank her and tell her to tell rafe that you’re starting to walk so to keep an eye out on the way, figuring it would be better to distance yourself from the rest of the pogues before he got to you.
you spot rafes truck after walking for a few minutes, watching him slow to a stop before you climb into the passenger seat.
“thanks.” you whisper, not sure what else to say as rafe presses down on the gas. you expect him to turn back towards tanneyhill, but he’s driving you in a different direction.
“where are we going?” you ask.
“i doubt you ate anything good while you were with the pogues. you need to get some real food.” rafe pulls into town, finding a parking spot that would fit his truck.
“rafe, it’s okay, i’ll eat at tanneyhill.” you say, but he just gets out of the truck and walks around to your side, yanking the door open and gesturing for you to get out.
“i see what you eat at tanneyhill. it’s never real meals unless it’s what rose makes, and she’s out tonight with my dad. just come on.”
you slide out of the truck, watching rafes back as he walks away, expecting you to follow. you stay a few feet behind him until rafe turns into a restaurant, again holding the door open for you as you duck inside. it’s not one you’ve been to before, probably because it’s out of your price range.
“just the two of you?” the hostess asks. rafe nods in response, and you’re quickly shown back to a table.
“rafe, i-i can’t afford this.” you say when looking at the menu. you can’t even afford just an appetizer. 
“you don’t think i know that, pogue?” rafe rubs his brow. “i’ve got it, just eat, please.”
you study the menu, opting for a simple chicken and fries, along with mozzarella sticks. afterall, rafe is paying. he orders a burger for himself, not even glancing at the waitress who took your orders, like she's beneath him.
“did ward put you in charge of me or something?” you ask after sitting in an awkward silence for a few minutes, waiting on your food to be brought out.
“i don’t want to be sharing a house with someone who is sick because they refuse to eat right.” rafe says. “i don’t want to find you passed out because you didn’t get enough food.” rafe leans back in his chair, glancing over you. “that would just be an inconvenience.”
“ah.” you nod, keeping your eyes on the empty place in front of you until your food is brought out. your stomach growls at the smell, not realizing how hungry you truly were, so used to going all day without a true proper hot meal, surviving on snacks and whatever else you could find.
you dig into your food, moaning when the melted cheese enters your mouth after biting down on the mozzarella stick.
“hey!” you shout when rafe reaches across the table and takes one of the sticks, biting the end of it off. 
rafe just grins at you while chewing, making you shake your head in laughter. you continue eating your meal, not even realizing that you just had a nice moment with rafe until later that night when you’re laying in bed, reflecting on your evening with rafe. he didn’t make a big fuss when paying for the bill, simply sat his credit card down and didn’t mention how you were broke, then drove you back to the house and bid you goodnight upon entering tanneyhill.
you press your cold fingers to your cheeks, willing them to settle down as you shift underneath the covers, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, reminding yourself that one nice thing doesn’t mean rafe doesn’t hate you, afterall, like he said himself, he just doesn’t want you to be an inconvenience.
--
“mr. cameron, i really don’t want to impose!” you say, but ward just shakes his head. “nonsense, y/n. you’re coming with us.”
“let me help you with your hair, dear, come on.” rose ushers you towards her bedroom. you give wheezie a pleading look, but there’s nothing that she can say to get you out of going to midsummers, not now that ward is determined to have you come with them, showing off how generous and charitable he is by taking you in.
you sit still as rose patiently straightens your wavy hair, only to recurl it, pinning sections up until it’s mostly swept out of your face besides for a few face framing strands, then cascading down your back.
“rose-” you breath catches in the mirror. “you did amazing, thank you.” you turn to look at the woman. “i’ve never had my hair done like this before.” “you look beautiful, y/n. it’s a pleasure to have you with our family tonight. i think sarah is in her bedroom doing her makeup, maybe she can put some on you too.”
you nod and head towards sarahs room. you didn’t want to go at first and be surrounded by kooks, but now that you have no choice, you might as well enjoy feeling beautiful for one night. sarah already leant you a dress, but she agrees to do your makeup as well, keeping it light and fresh before helping you sort out putting on the dress.
you look in the mirror at yourself, unable to resist twirling, the fluttery skirt of the dress billowing up on the bottom. 
“girls, it’s time to leave!” you hear ward call, and you finish off the outfit with a flower crown of pale pink flowers to match your dress before rushing out of the room.
you head down the stairs, gripping the railing so you don’t stumble in your borrowed heels. 
rafe looks up, ready to chastise you for taking so long, when his breath catches in his throat, eyes going wide.
“not too bad for a pogue, huh?” you question.
“you look…” rafe trails off, his soft expression quickly being replaced with an angry one, stomping out of the room without finishing his sentence. you resist the urge to chase after him.
you don’t see rafe until hours later. you’ve been paraded in front of all of ward and roses country club friends, but you just put on a smile and boast about their generosity. you’re not sure if anyone can see through the fakeness, but ward seems pleased, and finally lets you stop mingling to rest your tired feet.
you watch the crowd from the camerons reserved head table, feeling like such an outsider, knowing this isn’t where you belong, and if you weren’t scrubbed clean and dressed like them, the kooks would be turning their nose up at you. at least rafe is decent enough to not try and hide his hatred behind a nice face.
you spot rafe in the crowd, whisky glass in hand as he talks to his friends, a bright smile on his face that gives you a funny feeling in your chest. you rub the spot with your hand, willing it to go away as people clear out from standing on the dance floor as the music starts, a few brave couples being the first one to begin swaying to the music. 
you watch as ward and rose dance, eyebrows raising up when they turn their attention to you. “y/n, come on!” 
you consider ruining having a place to stay and sleeping on the street tonight, but you’ve put on a good act so far, you can continue it for a bit longer. you smile and walk over to them, expecting to be shoved into the arms of some random kook boy, but instead you’re ushered to rafe.
“dance, you two!” rose calls, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter.
rafe holds his hand out, looking at you expectantly. you hesitate to place your hand in his, making rafe sigh. 
“you don’t know how to dance, do you pogue?” he questions.
“maybe i just don’t want to with you.” you place your hand in his, letting him tug you closer, his other hand resting against your waist while you grab onto his shoulder. you follow rafes lead, matching your footsteps with his as he sways you around the floor, glad the song is soft and gentle so you can just move slowly.
“see, this isn’t so bad.” rafe says, looking down at you.
“could be worse i suppose.” you hum, keeping your gaze straight forward at rafes chest as the song comes to an end.
the lights dim, and a romantic song comes on. you go to pull away from rafe, but he keeps you close to him, wrapping both arms around your waist and leaving you no choice but to put your arms around his shoulders.
you look to see all the other couples pressed close together, women with their head against their mens chest, some even kissing in the low lighting.
“just relax.” rafe whispers. “you’re so tight you’re gonna snap.”
you let your body relax in his hold, not realizing that you were clenching almost every muscle in your body. your head falls against rafes chest as you dance, letting yourself close your eyes and be swept away in the loving lyrics of the song, once again daydreaming about if this was actually your life.
the song ends far sooner than you’d like, and the lights brighten again. the crowd claps for a moment, but you’re locked into rafes arms, both of you now standing completely still. you can hear his steady heartbeat against your cheek, his breathing slow and deliberate.
“you look beautiful tonight.” rafe says, making you jump, almost forgetting who you are, and who he is. “that’s what i didn’t say earlier.” rafe clarifies, face falling when you look up at him in horror. you pull away from his arms, instantly missing his warmth as you run as fast as your heels can carry you out of the crowd, needing to get away from the music and the man.
you look down at your borrowed dress. you would rip it off or roll in dirt if you didn’t have to give it back to sarah, hating that this is what rafe finds beautiful. when you’re primped up to look like one of them, not the real you.
you find a dark corner to sit in until the party starts to disperse, and when you find the cameron family again, rafe isn’t with them, and no one mentions it as you pile in the car to head back to tanneyhill.
--
“are you sure you don’t want to come out on the boat with us, y/n?” wheezie asks you, but you shake your head.
“i’m okay, i’ll just stay back and read. i don’t want to impose, enjoy some time as a family.” you can tell already from being at the camerons for three weeks that they rarely do things as a family, at least one person, usually rafe or sarah, being left out.
“alright, i guess it’s you and rafe staying home. lets go!” ward calls, ushering the girls out of the room.
“wait, what?” you call, but they’re already out the door. you thought for sure rafe was going with him. you haven’t spoken a single word to each other in the past three days since midsummers. he’s barely even been around, you’ve just caught glimpses as he left for the day or came home.
you make a late breakfast for yourself, deciding since you’re basically home alone to fry up some bacon. you’re too nervous to use the kitchen for anything more than grabbing a quick snack when rose or ward are home.
you hum to yourself as the oil sizzles in the pan, finishing cooking your meal when you hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.
“rose, is that bacon?” rafe calls, entering into the kitchen with just a pair of basketball shorts on, freezing when he sees you.
“they all left.” you say, swallowing and resisting the urge to let your eyes track all over his torso. “but um, i made extra if you want some.” “yeah, let me just put a shirt on.” rafe walks away and you take the opportunity to fan your face, dividing the bacon up between two plates and sitting down at the counter, starting to eat when rafe rejoins you in the room.
you both eat side by side in silence, and you’re glad to not be talking. you finish your food, going to put your plate in the dishwasher when rafe takes it from you and does it for you.
“thanks.” you say under your breath, going to turn away when rafe clears his throat. “what is it?” you question, voice coming out harsher than you meant it to.
“i’m going to golf today. did you want to come with me?” rafe asks, not meeting your gaze.
“i- i don’t know how to golf.” you say as your way of refusal.
“right.” rafe nods, letting his shoulders drop.
“dirty pogue, remember?” you question.
rafe doesn’t say another word, he doesn’t even look at you as he leaves the room. you watch him walk away before closing yourself in your room, only moving to peek out the window when you hear his truck start up, watching it speed away from the house.
--
“y/n, you have a visitor.” ward says, ushering you towards the front room. you stand up, confused, not sure who would be visiting. it’s not like you have any friends who would come to tanneyhill.
“dad!” you shout in surprise, seeing him standing in the foyer, looking out of place in his dirty shorts and tank top.
“hey, y/n.” he says casually, like it hasn’t been four weeks since he saw you last, shipping you off to stay with a kook while he fixed up the hurricane damage on your house.
“what are you doing here?” you question, looking to the base of the stairs where rafe is stood on the bottom steps, arms crossed and watching the interaction with a scowl on his face.
“i finished fixing up the house enough for you to come home.” 
“oh.” you nod. you’d completely forgotten in your time here that you were only staying for a month, and that of course your dad would be here to collect you. “let me just get my things.” you force yourself to turn away and rush up the stairs, letting a few tears slip. you don’t want to go back to staying in a broken down house, and you especially don’t want to stay with your dad, having to fend for yourself completely while he spends all your money on drinks at the bar, not even leaving you enough for food.
you head into your room, wiping away tears as you shove things into your bag, including some clothes sarah was going to donate but she gave to you instead.
you control your breathing and stop your tears before you head downstairs, making eye contact with rafe as you walk down, unable to read the emotion on his face.
“thank you again, mr and mrs cameron for letting me stay here.” you say politely, and the both pull you into awkward hugs. 
“and bye, wheezie.” you squeeze the teenager against you, whispering a promise to come back and hang out.
you turn to rafe as your father walks out the door. you can’t find any words, so you simply turn and leave.
--
“dad, i need to buy food.” you argue. “i’m starving!” “you just want to pig out on fast food! we have things here you can eat!” your dad slurs his words, gesturing to the broken down kitchen. there wasn’t as much done in the month that you were gone that you were hoping for. he’s cleaned up the hurricane damage in most of the rooms, but tree that fell onto your bedroom is still there, simply hidden by a closed door, relegating you to sleeping on the old couch.
you curse as your dad stumbles into his bedroom, opening the kitchen cabinets to look for something edible before landing on a packet of saltine crackers.
you take the packet outside along with a water bottle, needing to get away from that house and your father. you sit down on the swing hanging from a high tree branch, crunching on the crackers as you listen to the birds chirping.
the mockingbirds song is interrupted by the rumble of an engine, and you turn towards your driveway, shooting up to stand when you recognize the truck getting closer.
you walk towards the truck, confused at why rafe is here, wondering if maybe you left something at tanneyhill, but it’s already been two weeks since you left. maybe he only just now bothered to return it.
rafe gets out of the truck, his eyes wide as he takes you in.
“how are you already so skinny?” rafe questions, taking the saltine cracker out of your hand and looking at it with disdain. “is this all you have to eat?”
“rafe, what are you doing here?” you question, snatching the precious cracker back.
“i-fuck!” rafe runs both his hands through his hair, “i was worried! and look at you! is he feeding you at all?” “rafe, calm down. you’ll wake him up.” you try and shush him, but it just makes rafe angrier.
“wake him up? does he hurt you? y/n.” rafe grips your upper arms, staring you straight in the eye, needing to know if what he suspects is true.
“what? no, rafe. he just drinks then passes out, he’s never hit me.” you’re still confused why rafe is even here. 
“get in the truck, i’m getting you food.” rafe demands, and your mind says no, but your rumbling stomach has your feet moving. you climb into the passenger side, looking at your broken down home thats truly no more than a shack. you wonder what rafe must feel seeing it as he gets in and starts the truck, backing out of the driveway.
you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your head fall as you sob silently. rafe doesn’t realize that you’re crying until your body starts to shake. he stops the truck in the middle of the dirt road, not caring if it blocks anyone else.
“y/n?” rafe questions, unsure how to get you to stop crying, worrying that it’s his fault.
“i don’t wanna go back there.” you admit, looking up at rafe, letting him see the messy state you’re in.
“fuck it.” rafe sighs, unbuckling both of your seatbelts and pulling you onto his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you as you press your face into his shoulder, letting your tears run free, not caring about the wet stains you’re making on his clothes.
“it’s okay.” rafe rubs his hand up and down your back. “you don’t have to go back there. you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. i’m here.”
you cry harder, wrapping your arms around rafes waist, keeping yourself close to him, letting yourself find comfort in his arms.
“i’m here, y/n.” rafe whispers, pressing a kiss to your head.
you look up at him, tears still flowing down your face. “why? why are you here?” “i told you…” rafe cups your cheek, trying to wipe away the tears but they just keep flowing. “i was worried. i had to come check on you… please stop crying.”
rafes words do nothing to stop the deluge, and he’s starting to freak out, hating seeing you so upset, knowing you need some sort of distraction as your breathing speeds up, starting to hyperventilate until rafes lips are pressed against your own.
you’re momentarily confused, hesitating for a split second before kissing back, letting rafe dominate your mouth as you concede, the tears slowing to a stop as he keeps kissing you.
“rafe!” you gasp when he pulls away. “you just kissed me.” “i know.” rafe wipes his palms over your cheeks, and this time theres no fresh tears to replace it. “i care about you y/n. it’s why i came. i missed you.”
“oh, rafe.” you lean forward, letting him hug you tight, squeezing your bodies together.
“i’m here.” rafe whispers again, not letting you spiral, reminding you as many times as it takes that you’re not alone, that you have him now.
“now,” rafe gives your forehead a kiss, “we need to get you some real food. what are you hungry for? pizza?”
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rinneverse · 3 months
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cw a little suggestive towards the end, mdni please and ty :)
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alhaitham is the type to seethe quietly in his jealousy.
he’s not outwardly possessive—no, because he lets the stranger talk to you—his pretty girlfriend—about his thesis plans, about his academic feats, and you sit there with a smile plastered on your face, nodding your head as you listen to him prattle on and on and on.
alhaitham nearly bends the book in his hand into pieces with what he claims is annoyance. not possessiveness, no, that was out of character. he was just… annoyed, that this random man had the gall to interrupt his reading session with you.
that’s what he tells himself, at least.
of course, how was he supposed to know you were dating the akademiya scribe, when alhaitham was possibly the most low-key person ever? the two of you were quiet about your relationship, content to share it between yourselves. only your close friends really knew the extent of how deep your “friendship” with the scribe went.
as soon as the man leaves (not without leaving his number for you, of course), and the two of you are blanketed in the quiet murmurs of the akademiya library, alhaitham sets his book down. he turns to you.
he finds you staring at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. alhaitham tilts his head, all feline grace, his eyes narrowing into slits as he asks, “what?”
you shake your head mirthfully, crumpling up the slip of paper in your hand and tossing it into the nearest bin. alhaitham feels his shoulders un-tense just a fraction at the sight.
“nothing,” you say, but alhaitham knows you’re lying.
so he leans closer to you, grasping your chin in his hand as he tilts your head back and forces your gaze to meet his.
“liar. what is it?”
you smile. wide and wider it grows, and you reach a hand up to brush alhaitham’s cheek. he barely suppresses a shudder at the gentle touch.
“i didn’t think you to be the jealous type.”
“i’m not.”
“then what was that all about?” you hum. you’re… amused by this. amused by him grappling with his emotions. alhaitham feels his lips twitch downward.
if you didn’t know any better, he would appear to just be frowning. but you did… and it was like he was pouting. you giggle.
“i am annoyed,” alhaitham says, stressing the last word, “that we were interrupted by a stranger. nothing more.”
“nothing more?” you parrot, your eyes gleaming with amusement. “sure. and i’m the grand sage.”
alhaitham bites his tongue, pulling his hand away from your chin. his fingers flex—he has to stamp down on his self-control. being found in a compromising position in the library would surely wreck the both of your social statuses.
but the thrill of it… seeing you bent over the table, utterly wrecked under the careful ministrations of his hands—getting to mark his claim on you...
he quickly shakes the dangerous train of thought away.
“do you want to go home?” you suddenly ask, a coy smile dancing on your lips. he must have been obvious where his line of thinking was going, if you managed to catch on that quickly. the grin on your face tells him that you did.
alhaitham pretends to ponder it. grabs the book he set down, turns it over in his hands, then shrugs.
“sure. kaveh shouldn’t be home for another few hours.”
his voice was bedroom-soft, and the tone in which he said it—nearly purring—has heat pooling in your core.
“alright. let’s go?”
he wordlessly rises, holding out his hand for you. there’s a small part of him that feels a maddening satisfaction when you let out a pleased hum, followed by a surprised yelp as he gracefully slides an arm around you.
someone nearby makes a “shh” noise, and he completely ignores it. you giggle out an apology.
it was utterly unlike him, he thinks, as he guides you through the library with his arm wrapped around your waist, slowly moving to rest his hand on the small of your back when the two of you exit the library.
maybe he’ll try being more public in his attention to you. that would most certainly keep this from happening again.
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aro-absol · 9 months
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So, I gotta rant about a thing regarding heartstopper that I see so often and it annoys the hell out of me.
Isaac is canonically aroace. AROace.
It drives me crazy when people talk about him "discovering he's ace", calling him an "ace icon" or praising his "ace storyline ".
Like NOTHING about his storyline is inherently about being asexual. It is about not knowing what crushes feel like, not being able to reciprocate crushes, never getting celebrity crushes, feeling nothing when kissing, and just feeling out of place with his friends all dating. Those are all typical aromantic experiences.
Isaac is the only canonically aro character in a mainstream tv series that actually mentions the label on screen. The only other characters I can think of that are called aromantic on screen are in very niche j-dramas that are basically unheard-of outside the aspec bubble.
We need this kind of representation so badly. It could help raise the awareness that we need to fight so many arophobic stereotypes.
I do not like to play Oppression Olympics or anything as we all are fighting against aphobia and are barely represented. But... we literally need his representation more than the asexual community does. There are several other mainstream (or at least semi-mainstream) TV shows that have canon ace characters while also using the word asexual for them. There are Cash from Heartbreak High and Todd from Bojack Horseman, just to name two from the top of my head.
I'm not asking you to stop calling him asexual. Just, PLEASE call him aromantic, too.
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miryum · 1 year
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HI!!!! Good morning/afternoon/evening to youuu! First, I want to say I really enjoy your fics, it makes me feel like I'm on cloud 9. Too bad their just fiction. Anyways....
Idk if you write fics about benny watts, but ig it's worth a shot, I'm obsessed with play date by Melanie Martinez and that song really fit with benny. When benny was only with the reader to practice or play with her but they have a little thing that a couple does but without label. So the ready gets really tired and have a fight with him, and at the end benny told her his feelings.
Really hope you can make this. And advance thank you! <33
YES!!! My beloved Benny Watts!!!! I love him so much 😊 Thank you so much for your words, yet alas, mine are just fiction *sigh* (also, love your username)
Benny moved a rook across the chess board and your face scrunched up. You were nowhere near the level that the great Benny Watts was, but you liked the think you could predict his moves. You had known Benny since you were children, and therefore were able to practically able to read each other minds. That was an argument Benny used many times to rope you into playing chess with him. If you, the person who was able to prophesy his every move, wasn't able to beat him, then he was confident no one could.
You had tried multiple times to get out of playing chess with Benny (albeit thankful that it was a bit of steady income for the two of you, seeing as you were roommates), but he always managed to trick you into playing with him. Sometimes it was through bets, or he got you tipsy, or he simply looked up with you with puppy dog eyes and you melted.
It was hard though, being Benny's friend. You were constantly left alone at the apartment- if you could call it that- and sometimes had to pick up extra shifts because Benny was too engrossed in chess that he forgot to pick up a check. Your friends had urged you to move out, seeing how the stress could get to you, but you refused. You felt bad about the prospect of leaving Benny. He was your best friend, although you sometimes wondered if you were his. He clearly shared a special relationship with Arthur and Harry, simply because they were all the same sex.
And then there was Beth.
You were unsure of when the girl had first appeared in your life; she had just showed up at one point. And you saw how Benny reacted to her.
You were about to move a knight when a knock sounded on the door. Sharing a look with Benny, both silently agreeing to pause the game, you got up and opened the door. Sighing at the character who was waiting to come in, you moved back to the chess boar and plopped back down on the ground.
"Beth!" Benny smiled brightly. You hated him for it. Your feelings for Benny were probably a main factor in why you stayed by his side, even after he had pushed you into the friend-zone multiple times unknowingly.
"Are you guys playing?" Beth moved to sit by you.
You scooted away from her and towards Benny, gesturing to the board and saying, "Play for me, will you? I could never win against the prodigy."
"Hush," Benny took your hand in his. "You were doing wonderfully."
Without another word, you sat back and watched as the two young adults warred in a battle of the wits. No matter how many times you would watch it, you were always awed at the swift, defiant movements that they shared.
An unwanted pang of jealousy wormed its way into your stomach. Why couldn't you've been great at chess? Would Benny than pay more attention to you? And how could he be so blind? Who else had stood by his side for as long as you?
Throughout the match, Benny continued to hold you hand. When you went to pull away, reaching for a book or magazine to interest yourself in, he pulled you back and muttered something about 'his good luck charm'.
Rolling your eyes at his persistence, you shrugged him off. After a while, Benny was declared the winner, but by a slight margin. Even you were able to see how Benny narrowly avoided defeat. He had gotten lucky. Beth thanked you for letting her drop by, saying she had originally come for a book that Benny suggested. After she had left, you started to pack up the chess board. You had come to live with the fact that in your shared apartment with Benny, chess boards would outnumber anything else.
"You alright?" Benny stretched out on the floor, glancing over your figure.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Come on, Y/n." Benny shot you a hard look. "I've known you forever. I can see when something bugs you. Out with it."
"Are you blind?" You rounded on his suddenly, your odd question confusing the boy.
"What do you mean?"
"Can you see what's in front of your eyes?" you pressed again. "Because I don't think you can. Every time that Beth, a lovely girl, no doubt, but only a new, shiny toy to you, rounds the corner, you're transfixed and I can't understand why."
"Where is this coming from?" Benny exclaimed, feeling bombarded.
"Haven't I been enough?" You ignore him and continued on. "I've tried to be a great friend, but it's hard sometimes. It's especially hard when I've been crushing after you for the past few years and you can't realise that I like you!"
"You like me?" Benny stilled, blinking owlishly at you.
"Of course, you idiot!" You wanted to throw the chess board down but knew that a line you shouldn't cross. "We've had some pretty bad arguments in our lives and any other friends would've separated by now. Why do you think I always come back to you?"
Benny couldn't help but let a laugh escape. "You come back to me?" he clarified, shaking is head. "No, Y/n, I come back to you. God damn it, I like you too. Love you, in fact! Ever since I first set my eyes on you. You, may I remind you, had a school-girl crush on that one boy, Jack. So, I backed off. I've been harbouring feelings for you ever since."
You stared at him. "Pardon?" you asked finally.
"I guess I am blind." Benny flashed you a brilliant smile that made you melt. "Blinded by my love."
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oceanstide · 11 months
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people's memories of their loved ones who passed on would gradually blur as time goes by. without a refresher, the mind slowly forgets the details of their loved one's face; their eyes start to blur, their nose shape begins to deform, everything felt wrong but you have no way of telling which one is right.
the worst part is, the changes won't be noticeable until there's an active attempt to recall. and all of a sudden you're left with a blurry image of one's face you believe you knew. leaving you with a sense of horror and guilt.
lo'ak dives in under the water, the glow emanating from the spirit tree guides his path, the water pressure no longer foreign as it caresses his azure skin. dread and guilt still fills him as he reaches out to touch, the back of his eyelids slightly burn as he thinks of the multiple times he's heard:
"go visit him. it's been years, son."
well.
lo'ak never was the one that listened.
that was him.
his eyes stung once more as he hesitantly reaches back to grab his queue. his lanky and awkward built now long gone, replaced with a more defined and sturdy form; shaped from the years adapting into the reef's different ways than he's used to.
lo'ak, queue in hand, takes a brief second to gather himself before reaching forward, closing his eyes as the tendrils connect.
------
the tingling cold sensation and sharp texture of the grass beneath his bare feet was surprising but not unwelcomed. lo'ak eyes blink several times to adjust as they look around, finding more green and towering trees than he ever has in the last few years of his life after arriving in awa'atlu. with slow steps, his ears twitch with every sound his steps left, his chest tight from the intense wave of melancholy, his tail hung low as he goes deeper into the forest.
and all of a sudden he felt small again, just like he was six years ago.
and it was raining. why was it raining?
it never rained.
at least, that's what his mom told him. or his dad. or kiri. or tuk.
lo'ak's chest twinges from the thought. why was it raining?
as he walks further and further into the forest, his eyes then catch the small back of familiar na'vi, the braids not lost from his memories, the always present cummerbund wrapped around the na'vi's waist.
the na'vi's a warrior.
the mighty warrior.
lo'ak eyes burn as he takes in the sight, his steps faltering slightly when he tried to walk closer. he felt small again. the way he used to with him. with his brother.
"neteyam," he callled out, the sound of his own voice sounding foreign to him, the name he refused to mention after he passed. saying it again after a long time feels strange, almost similar to the way his stomach lurches as he reconnects with his ikran after being so used to his skimwing.
neteyam's shoulders shook and lo'ak's eyebrows furrow at that. was he laughing? why couldn't he hear a thing? maybe he was too far? deciding that was the cause, his steps brought him closer and closer to the now taller than him neteyam.
"what took you so long, baby bro?"
dread began to fill lo'ak's chest. neteyam was right in front of him but why did his voice sound so far away?
"i- i was preoccupied," lo'ak answered, blinking several times to lose the tears as neteyam's back was blurred on the edges.
"i waited, you know. i wondered, where's my baby bro?" lo'ak ignored how neteyam's voice sounded so far away. as if it was from a far distance. maybe that's how it was. maybe. "but mother said you needed time, so.." neteyam shrugged, his head slightly tilted down.
lo'ak felt droplets of water rolling down his cheeks, whether it were raindrops or his tears, no one will know. he opened his mouth to speak, but there was too much that he wanted to say;
'i can't. i dont deserve to see you. it was my fault. it was my fault you're here. it was my fault you're not with us anymore. it should've been me. why did you do it? why didn't you refuse? why didn't you leave with tuk and tsireya instead? why did you listen to me? nobody did, so why did you?'
lo'ak looked up, neteyam still with his back facing him, he ignored the thought of neteyam feeling repulsed to look at him as he says, "bro i'm so-"
"-stop. it's not your fault."
"yes it was-"
"no. i had every choice to say no." lo'ak started to feel anger bubble inside him, why is neteyam refusing to look at him?
"then why didn't you?!"
"because you're my brother! i want to protect you."
"fucking- say it to my face!"
"i can't."
"why the fuck not?!" lo'ak's voice began to crack, desperation choking his throat as he reaches out to grab neteyam's shoulder and forcefully turn him around and-
lo'ak's heart drops.
the rain grew stronger, the droplets rained over him mercilessly and the last thing he remembered was running away as fast as he can.
running away from the brother he thought he remembered.
------
lo'ak ran again, immediately after he detached from his ilu, his steps rushed and erratic, passing by a concerned tsireya, her voice overpowered by the loud ringing in his ears. he needed- he needed to find his dad. he should be in their marui now. please be there.
he slows down his steps as his dad stepped out from their marui, noticing lo'ak immediately. his ears flatten and his tail flick up in alert before he moves to inspect him.
"what's wrong, boy? are you okay?" his dad asked, still not enough to defeat the insistent ringing in his ears, "what happened-"
"did you bring the family portraits?" he blurted out, the pounding of his heart was loud and fast. his tail hung low between his legs as it swishes rapidly. "with you- dad, is it in the marui?"
his dad's eyes widen slightly in confusion before realization dawned in, his gaze changed from concern to understanding. lo'ak hated it. he doesn't
"did you- yeah i did. come on." lo'ak barely registered the way his dad changed his sentence mid-speaking. he just needed to see the picture. his mind was spinning and bile rose from his throat as he watches his dad rummage through their belongings, cold washes over him once again, the necklace suddenly heavy and suffocating around his neck. the necklace neteyam last wore.
"here."
lo'ak's heart lurched as he hesitantly grabs the portrait, his eyes wide and gaze zeroing in on the figure on farthest left, to the figure right next to him.
"and here's a clearer picture of just you and him." his dad says, placing another portrait on his other hand. lo'ak's eyes move from their family portrait to the other portrait. his breath shaky as he brings it closer to look at it properly.
lo'ak huffed wetly, a droplet or two falling to the ground beneath him as the familiar face once again fresh in his memory. he lets his hands fall as he croaks out, "dad, i- i almost forgot how he looked like."
his dad smiled at him, the sad look etched on his face. he reaches out and places a comforting hand on the side of his head, "visit your brother more often, son. i know it hurts, and i know you refuse to believe it happened, because for a while it was that way for me too." the comforting weight of his hand dissapears briefly before he pulls him gently into a hug, "i know it feels like having a part of you ripped away and you don't want to face it. but you have to. you have to move on. he wouldn't have wanted you to live in constant sorrow and grief," his dad continues, his hand gently stroking his hair, "it doesn't immediately lose the pain but it does make it feel less difficult to heal."
"it was my fault." lo'ak muttered once again, face nestled comfortably against the shoulder of the man he calls his dad after years of mending their slightly fragmented relationship, the sudden loss finally opening their eyes and bringing them together.
the fear of losing another son, the fear of almost losing his father. the shared guilt of believing they have an indirect role in their family's loss brought them closer. mending their father-son relationship.
"it's not. it never was." his dad said, voice slightly cracking too, "none of us think it's your fault. and i'm sure neither does your brother."
they stayed that way for a long time, one seeking comfort as the other provides. lo'ak's arms tighten around his dad as he feels tears still fall from his eyes. "i miss him, dad."
"i know, son. i miss him too."
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strawberryspence · 1 year
Text
snow on the beach by taylor swift but i take it literally.
steve takes eddie to a beach for christmas because eddie has never seen the ocean, never has seen a large body of water and eddie wants to see it. he’s been ticking off a list he wrote down the moment he woke up from his medically induced coma from being eaten by rabid, demon bats.
eddie munson almost died, and he hasn’t ever done anything good or remarkable in his life. he’s never seen the ocean, never been in a big rollercoaster, he hasn’t graduated, he hasn’t done anything to repay wayne for the life he has given him.
there’s probably 40 things on the list. here’s a few:
1. graduate high school, fucking please ✔️ (eddie did graduate. with the help of buckley, wheeler, and the whole fucking party. steve served cookies and drinks.)
2. thank uncle wayne. give him a hug for fuck godness sake. ✔️ (eddie did, from the moment he woke up from the coma, he cried and thanked him for everything he has ever done. wayne is his dad, through and through.)
3. thank dustin and give him the campaign of his life. ✔️ (eddie also did that, not only for dustin but for the rest of the party.)
4. go to one of lucas’ basketball games. you owe him one. ✔️ (eddie did, he went to every last game with steve even though people looked and stared but who the fuck cares? sinclair has the talent for shooting balls into baskets, and the smile he gave eddie the first time he came is worth every glare.)
5. thank the bald headed, super powered girl who came for you in the dark space. ✔️ (eddie met el. he thanked her for his life, but she just thanked him for helping her friends. eddie would like to think they’re friends now.)
6. thank everyone who believed in you when you were in the run. ✔️ (he did. he thanked wheeler, buckley, harrington, the kids. and they just smiled at him. told him, it’s okay. that he’s one of them. eddie would never confess but he had some tears on his eyes. BUT ONLY because of the dust.
7. ride a big rollercoaster. ✔️ (eddie did that too. steve made a big day out of it and then drove the whole party to the nearest amusement park.)
8. have your first kiss. ✔️ (yes, he did that too. it’s from robin fucking buckley. because they’re both gay, and both haven’t had their first kisses and they were drunk and high out of their mind. never again.)
9. go see a beach.
10. cook something that won’t kill a living human being. ✔️ (eddie did, he cooked pasta with steve’s help. it was pretty good and the party loved it.)
11. learn how to skateboard. (they’re almost there, max is still teaching him how to.)
12. dye your hair. or some shit. do something to your hair.
13. take a fucking hike. go see the fucking mountains or something jesus christ. ✔️ (he did. it was horrible. he’s just happy he can tick it off now.)
14. fall in love.
15. knit something. maybe some gloves.
16. get out of hawkins. get out of this shit hole.
17. go visit chrissy cunningham’s grave. apologize. i don't fucking know. talk to her. just go.
18. get a pet dog. ✔️ (he adopted the trailer dog. wayne wasn’t happy when hetfield peed inside their brand new, given by the government, house)
there’s about 20 more items in the list. some done, some still on going, some not gonna get done until a few years later.
steve finds the list november of ‘86. he knows there’s a list, the kids annoy eddie into letting them join and help him do some of it. he wants eddie to tick off number 14, only if it’s with steve. but that’s him being delusional. he wants to grant one thing for eddie for christmas.
so for christmas he drives eddie to the nearest beach, it’s not as big as any california beach, but it’s a beach, with some kind of body of water. it starts snowing halfway through the trip and when they finally arrive to the beach its full on snowing.
still eddie is happy. steve watches as he plays with the snow and sand, running and jumping around like a little kid. they could’ve swam but its too cold, steve promises that they’ll come back in the summer with kids. steve takes out some sandwiches and some hot chocolate he made. it’s warm enough that they can watch the snow and the water on the back of eddie’s van, doors open.
there’s a shimmer of glow in eddie’s eyes when steve finally tells him, “merry christmas, eddie. i hope this ticks one more thing on your list.”
eddie takes out the list out of his pocket, already crumpled and lines permanent from being folded, “would it be okay if i tick two things off?” steve feels like he’s being lit from within, as he nods.
“i guess.” steve answers. eddie smoothes down the paper on his knees, takes out the pen he always brings with him.
steve watches as he crosses out 9. go see a beach.
eddie looks up at him, and it’s almost too beautiful, almost like something steve has only seen in a movie. there’s snow behind him, coming down without sound. eddie’s wearing a black sweater, his cheeks red and his eyes twinkling like stars.
“would it be okay if i tick off number 14?” eddie barely whispers, like he’s afraid he’ll jinx it.
“are— are you sure?” steve whispers back, like anything louder would wake him up from this weird, but fucking beautiful dream.
eddie smiles at him, bright, wonderful, alive and moves closer to finally kiss him.
steve knows the feeling of being stopped by time, he knows it well from grandfather clocks ticking away. he thought that was it. but steve didn't know it could be so wonderful, as eddie kisses him and as time stops around them. if somebody ever asks, steve will tell you that kissing eddie would be the closest feeling to what he thinks flying would feel like.
eddie checks of number 14. fall in love.
he should’ve checked it off the moment he woke up from coma, asked for a piece of paper and pen and steve harrington got him a whole notebook and a box of colored pens.
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woozingie · 2 years
Text
1:32
member: woozi genre: domestic fluff! word count: 1k content warning: mentions of sex lil note: if this isn’t what came to me the other night when i realised it was not 10pm but in fact 2am and i was still writing like a madwoman Jihoon shakes his head a little and chuckles at the sight of you, sprawled out on the couch of his studio, lips slightly parted to let out tiny breaths he can only hear in the silence of the night. He gets up from his desk chair, grabs the blanket carefully folded under the table specifically for times like these, and realises he has one last obstacle to face before victory is his: your hands are still resting on your laptop as you sleep soundly. The device has to go before he can tuck you in and call it a success. The clock reads 1:32am; you didn’t even last an hour, the thought pulls the corners of his mouth into a smile.
See, Jihoon is known to be busy, but you’re no stay-at-home partner either. You have work to do, work you love doing, and your free time does not always align with his. But when you are both busy—the type of busy that requires to stay in one spot and force something good to come out of just sitting there and staring at a screen—you make the most of it. For its cosy feel and dreamy aesthetic, you always choose Jihoon’s studio. Who’s allowed in? No one if empty-handed. Who’s on speed dial? Mingyu, only if he agrees to cook for you so you eat more than fast food. How much do you mutually distract each other? Actually, very little. Sure, at first it was hard not to turn every break into a game of have we had sex on this surface and how quick can we make each other come?, but thankfully, the honeymoon phase does fade away, and the importance of a job well done takes over the satisfaction of an orgasm. You once mentioned to your lover that it was Audre Lorde who wrote that a fulfilling sexual life helps you find what you truly love in life by looking for orgasm-like bliss in daily satisfactions, which he had found endlessly funny and had inspired him some dramatic moaning every time he got a sound right for a new track. He loves making you regret you ever mentioned that.
But there is a major difference between you and Jihoon: one of you has learned to sleep whenever possible, and work whenever there is an opportunity for peace and quiet. That person is not you. Yet, you had made up your mind to try and work until 5 or 6am, whenever the music man decided a night of work well done was completed. You got to the studio at 7pm with dinner, and Jihoon took a break to eat with you and chat about his day. By half past eight, he was itching to get his headphones back on and so you pulled out your laptop and announced you’d be working along with him until morning. “Really?” he had simply asked, eyebrows raised high, not buying it one moment. But he knew better than to point out your overly ambitious plan, and so he went to work, discreetly checking on you from time to time. At 10:30, you got up to get a coffee. By 11:30, the sounds of your yawns were more frequent than the sounds of your keyboard. At forty past midnight, Jihoon turned around and stared at you, as if he had something terrible to announce.
“You should sleep,” he said in a serious tone. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. I don’t mind, you know that.” “I’m good! I can still go until like, 2am, and if I don’t regain some post-fatigue energy after that, I’ll get another coffee. Look! I’m so awake!” You point at your widened eyes and all he sees are two red, exhausted eyeballs. But he nods anyway, keeping the savoury “told you so!” for later. 
So, as expected, when he steals a quick glance at you not even an hour later, you are fast asleep, laptop screen now black, your hands still ghosting over the keyboard. The sight is endearing, but you’ll never need to know that: he takes in your slightly furrowed brows, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your legs twitch a little bit as you fall into a deeper sleep. He feels sorry to have the privilege of seeing you vulnerable like this more often than anyone else, but to enjoy it so rarely because of his lifestyle. He brushes off the guilt quickly though, because you only complain when he apologises for it. Jihoon knows you support him unconditionally, whatever that may mean. He knows he could decide to turn his back on his career and work the land, and your only reaction would be how excited you are to move to the countryside with him. He just wonders if he is truly returning the favour, or exhausting your patience a little bit every day. 
But then he reconsiders. You’re asleep in this uncomfortable position on his studio couch because you tried to pull an all-nighter to be with him, be like him. Your voice echoes in his head as he remembers you saying, “I need someone focused enough to keep me focused too.” He made nothing of it when you said it as you made your plans the night before, but now he sees it as your way to express how much he influences you. How he makes some things easier for you. He doesn’t need to do anything to be helpful, and he should understand that, because you do that for him too. 
Just this time, though, he’ll be helpful on purpose. He lets the blanket fall into a fluffy pile on the floor, takes the laptop out from under your hands ever so slowly, and puts it away on the table. He picks up the blanket and covers your sleepy figure, admires his handiwork, and snaps a picture for future proof he was right: you can’t pull an all-nighter, babe. But it’s ok, he thinks to himself. Now the studio smells like you.
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reki-of-the-valley · 1 year
Text
Summer Sunsets
There are a few things that often preoccupied Langa: skateboarding, pronouncing things right, work, Reki. Reki. Always Reki. The pretty boy that somehow had wormed his way into Langa’s mind. And such a thing wasn’t new to Langa; any boy that gave him as much attention as Reki did was bound to do things to his little heart, but the way Reki flooded his sense, now that was new. It was so new, the way that his smile made Langa’s heart flip or the way the sound of his voice became the center of Langa’s world. Reki had become Langa’s everything, and what had he done to find himself there? What had he done for Langa to know nothing but how to fall for him a little more with each passing day?
With a hand over his heart, Langa could feel the irregular beating deep in his chest. He could feel the echo of Reki’s name inside of him, feel it pounding in his bones. When was the last time a crush had driven him this crazy? When was the last time a crush had left him feeling this alive? Never. The answer was probably never. Langa would have remembered if there had been another Reki in his life. Langa would have remembered the boy, but no one compared to the brightness that was Reki’s smile, his voice, his presence, his heart. Nothing could compare to the beauty that was the boy that stood before him.
A smile pointed in his direction, Langa couldn’t help but get closer. How could he resist such an invitation, a hand extended towards him? How could he resist letting his hand rest in Reki’s, letting calloused palms scratch against of skin? It was impossible to refuse such an opportunity. For all Langa knew, it was the only time it would happen.
“C’mon man!” Fingers curled around Langa’s, Reki’s grip tightening and tugging him along. “If we take any longer, we’re gonna miss it!”
“Where are you even bringing me?”
Amber eyes shone under the darkening summer sunlight. Beautiful amber eyes that had Langa’s heart flipping in his chest. Gorgeous amber eye that had Langa tripping over his own feet. And the smile. There were no words to describe the smile.
“Already told ya, it’s a surprise! Now stop asking questions and c’mon!”
And with that, the eyes, the smile, the look, it was all gone. Or at least, it was out of Langa’s view as Reki sped up, now running rather than his previous light jog. But his hand was still in Langa’s, his grip just as firm. He wasn’t letting go of Langa’s hand any time soon, not that Langa was complaining about that.
“It’s gonna be awesome, dude! You’re gonna be so—”
A smile. Reki’s smile. And the motion of an explosion with his free hand. And laughter. A light, almost shy kind of laughter falling from Langa’s lips, the type of laughter that made his cheeks burn red because of how ridiculous he felt whenever it came out. He hated the way it sounded, pitchy and uneven, but when Reki grinned at him, that crooked, toothy grin, Langa just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the sounds that escaped him, sounds that just made Reki grin even wider.
“It’s gonna be so freakin’ awesome, you won’t know what hit you! Like! Like!”
It was almost as if he were vibrating with excitement. Shining even. Reki easily got excited, but never like this. His excitement never coated him with a shine, something so special and so fitting. Passionate. He had always been so passionate. He had always been so determined. He had always been so beautiful.
“It’s right…” A tug, pulling Langa closer as he pointed ahead. “Here.”
“Reki, this is…”
Pinks and purples and oranges swirled around the sky. Gold as well, outlining the clouds that floated by. Beauty coated the world, but nothing compared to the sunset that colored Reki’s eyes. Pinks and purples and oranges, all gorgeous in the vast beyond, but even prettier over the amber of the boy’s eyes. The world had nothing on Langa’s world.
“Reki, I…”
Sunsets on oceans knew nothing of Langa and Reki. Sunsets sinking into the ocean knew nothing of the heartbeat that pounded as Reki stepped closer, his shoulder bumping against Langa’s.
“It’s pretty, right?”
Another toothy grin as the boy turned his head towards Langa. Another shine in his eyes, a shine brighter than the sun could ever shine.  What could ever compare to the beauty that was Reki?
“Yeah, it’s really pretty.”
It was a difficult task peeling his eyes off Reki, but he had to follow the boy’s gaze. He had to look at the sky. He couldn’t keep staring at him. He couldn’t risk being caught staring, his heart wouldn’t survive the embarrassment that would entail.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s so pretty. Kinda like—”
Quiet fell, Reki’s caught between those crooked teeth that had been smiling just a moment ago. Uncertainty clouded those amber eyes, dulling their natural shine. Something had gone wrong. Something had stopped Reki from being himself. Something that Langa didn’t understand. What could have happened for Reki to stop smiling? What happened for his voice to choke the way it had?
“I… I thought maybe if I showed you something beautiful, you’d… If you… Ugh!”
Langa’s breath hitched as Reki dropped his head in his hands, his fingers tugging at loose locks of his red hair. Panic flooded through Langa, crashing against his ribs as he felt helpless watching Reki.
“I’m so stupid! Of course this ain’t gonna work! I’m so dumb!”
“No!” Amber eyes peeked through loosening fingers. “No.” Softer this time. Less panicked this time. “No, Reki. You’re not stupid or dumb. You’re never stupid.”
“You don’t even know what I’m talking about, man. How can you say I’m not stupid when you don’t know?”
“Because you’ve never been stupid. You’re so smart, smarter than anyone I know. Smarter than even Cherry and… and nothing can change that.”
“No, no, I’m… But I… Because I…”
Heat flared in Langa’s cheeks as Reki’s eyes fell for a split second. Both must have matched in burning color, but that stayed a guess as the amber eyes could no longer be used as a mirror. But if Langa knew himself, he knew that his blush wasn’t concealed, brightening his face just as Reki’s did.  
“I— I’m sorry! I…” Amber, shadow, amber. Reki’s eyes flicked all around, unable to pick a spot. “I, I didn’t mean to…”
It was stronger than him. The urge to slip his fingers through Reki’s, stopping the boy’s fidgeting, it was stronger than any impulse Langa’s ever had. And perhaps he shouldn’t have. Perhaps he should have dropped the subject, but it was too late now. It was too late, his fingers already tight around Reki’s, his eyes fixated on the amber that had become his world long ago. It was too late to back out now.
“You didn’t mean to what, Reki?”
“I didn’t mean to…” Rise and fall, his breath hitched with every choked word. “I didn’t mean to do… Langa…”
“Reki.”
Smile. What more could Langa do than smile as he lifted Reki’s chin? And while he had never been the best at reading the room, this time, he was pretty sure he knew what was happening. And if he was wrong, then he was ready to jump onto the next flight back to Canada, change his identity, and leave his life behind.
“You can do it, Reki. Please.”
“Langa, I…” Another deep, shaky breath. “You won’t hate me if I told you that I like you? Like… Like you? Please don’t hate me… I…”
“Like you too. I like you too, Reki. So, so much.”
The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than his brain was processing them. Was he rambling at this point? Maybe, but he couldn’t tell. Everything was buzzing in his ear, especially the noise that sounded far too much like a distorted version of his own voice. Everything was loud but the quiet was worse. Everything was happening, everything Langa had dreamt of for weeks, months even, but everything was happening differently from the way he had planned. For one, he wasn’t the one initiating the confession.
“And you’re so great and smart and how could I not like you? You’re just so—”
“Langa! Dude!” Langa felt the heat flare up once more as calloused palms touched his lips, but there was no way he was redder than Reki. Amber eyes had grown wide but slowly relaxed as they were cast aside. “Man, who woulda thought that a confession is all it took to get you to talk so much. Always so quiet until…” A smile tugged at the corners of Reki’s lips as he glanced at Langa. “Would’ve done this months ago if I had known.”
“What?” Langa furrowed his brows as he lowered Reki’s hands from his face. “Wait, do you mean… You don’t…”
“No! Yes! No! I didn’t—I like you! I like you! I, I’ve liked you for months! Just…” Reki ducked his head, his eyes glancing up to meet Langa’s. “I just didn’t know how you’d react so I… I didn’t say anything for a while.”  
The sincerity in Reki’s hesitant smile left Langa melting. It left him grinning. It left him falling for Reki like he’s never fallen before. Falling into his arms, a hug tighter than he’s ever hugged the boy. Sincerity, that was all it took.
Silence enveloped the two as they stood there, melted into each other. Silence fell, a silence more comforting than it had ever been. Silence, it was better than the endless rambling that had left Langa earlier. But it was also dangerous. Silence, the perfect place for Langa’s thoughts to overwhelm him.
“Langa?”
He’d fallen too deep. He’d fallen too fast. He hadn’t thought about what could happen after this. None of his scenarios had gotten this far. They had always stopped before Imaginary/Hypothetical Reki would say anything to him. Langa had always focused on what he would say, never on what would be said to him. And now, how was he supposed to act? What was to become of them? Did they just continue being how they were before? Were they changed forever?
“Dude, you okay there?”
Feelings had always been such a messy thing. Feeling things always made living so difficult. But feeling things also made it easier to keep living. Every time a butterfly would flutter in the pit of his stomach, Langa would be reminded why he was there. Every involuntary smile would take a weight off his conscious. And some days, those butterflies were what would make him completely forget what had gone wrong in the past. Those butterflies, they felt like a new life blossoming from within.  
“Langa!”
The jolt snapped Langa out of his spiral, the world greeting him with summer sunset eyes. Soft looks that had never felt as comforting as they did now. Soft calloused skin traced circles against his cheek, a light touch that matched the feeling of the eyes. Feelings, no matter how messy they could be, feelings were good. Langa liked feeling things. He liked feeling this.
“You good?”
Langa nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah. Couldn’t be better.”
He hadn’t meant it, he hadn’t meant the glance down, but it was too late. He hadn’t meant to get caught on the curve of Reki’s lips, but there he was, wondering about one last feeling. And as the sun set, eyes fluttering shut, there was no helping what had already been done.
“Can…”
“Please.”
It felt so natural, the slight lean down. It was as if he had done it a thousand times before, the light contact of soft lips. It was as if there was nothing else he was meant to do, but as Reki pressed a kiss back, everything felt right. A world of color exploded as Langa squeezed his eyes shut, basking in the warmth of the remains of sunlight and of the kiss. Butterflies burst throughout his body he held Reki close, savoring the taste of the kiss. Feelings. Feelings flooded right through Langa and nothing had ever felt better than the feeling of Reki’s lips against his.
There were so many things that preoccupied Langa, skateboarding, pronouncing things right, work, but none of those things compared to Reki. Reki. It would always be Reki, Reki that drove him crazy. It would be Reki for the rest of his life, Reki for the rest of forever. If there was one thing Langa was sure of, it was that he would be loving Reki infinitely.
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heartless-aro · 1 year
Text
When talking about aromanticism there tends to be a lot of emphasis on the basic idea of “you can be happy without romance,” which is a true but underwhelming sentiment. Yes, you can be happy without romance, in the same way you can be happy without liking certain types of foods or certain hobbies and the like.
But being aromantic is beyond that. Aromanticism isn’t just “not bad” or “not lesser” or “not a tragedy.” Being aromantic is beautiful, and joyful, and fun.
Being aromantic means realizing that the life you’re expected to want is not what you ACTUALLY want and so, it is the freedom and exhilaration of figuring out what you want and forging your own path through life. Aromanticism is the deeply personal process of examining your feelings and finding your own priorities in life. It’s looking at your relationships and refusing to label them, instead letting them exist as they are and focusing not on what your relationships “are supposed to look like” but rather, what you WANT them to look like. It’s making your own decisions on what sort of relationships are important to you, refusing to let anyone make that choice on your behalf.
Aromanticism is the rejection of the expectation that you should water yourself down into something more palatable so that others might be attracted to you. It’s knowing that the way you look, the way dress, the way you behave and present yourself are for your own sake, not anyone else’s.
It’s the relief of not having to worry about relationship drama, because you’re single and happy to be single.
It’s the sense of joy and community that comes with slipping a white ring on your left hand middle finger.
It’s existing for yourself. It is knowing that you don’t need any “other half” because you are whole.
It’s whatever you want it to be, because aromanticism the journey towards your own form of happiness, whatever that may mean for you.
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aftergiow · 2 years
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Imagine dating Jumin and him finding some free time so he could have some coffee with you between meetings;
Even doing everyday things feel so romantic when you do them with him, that's why you were so excited he had a little free time to go and grab a cup of coffee with you.
He suggested going to Jaehee's coffee shop, but you didn't want to stress her, so you suggested a cat cafe you saw online.
"Cat cafe? Elizabeth the Third would love that." "But the cats can't actually drink the coffee, honey." "Oh, really? Then what's the appeal?" "Having coffee next to the cats they have up for adoption." "Oh, well, I think that's nice then."
Jumin always orders a cup black coffee; he knows what he likes so he doesn't bother trying something new. However, you tend to try new things, so he always takes a sip of whatever you offer him so he can try a little bit of everything.
When you go out like that between meetings he doesn't like talking about his job; he prefers listening to you ramble about whatever you've been doing that day. It's his little break, after all, and your voice to him is the sweetest sound.
Even though he hesitated a bit when you suggested that place, he ended up loving it. He'll never think about bringing another cat home, since his heart belongs to Elizabeth after all, but he enjoyed being around the cats on the cafe.
After finishing your coffee and talking for a bit, it was time to leave for another meeting, so you two walk to the C&R Building, holding hands, talking about whatever comes up to your mind. Jumin is not a fan of public displays of affection, but he loves taking your hand in public. The warmth of your skin made him feel loved.
Once you arrived to the building, he would send you back to the penthouse with one of his trusted drivers and would call you to make sure you arrived fine.
"I'm glad I had some free time today. I miss you already." He would tell you. "I miss you too."
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