#if it's two people just talking to each other
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lemmesayimyourbiggestfan · 2 days ago
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Say my name again
Hwang In-ho x reader
word count: 2k
warnings: blood, gore, violence… if u watched SG, you’ll be fine
as always, requests are open!
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You’ve been watching him for some time now. Paying attention to the way his mouth moved when he talked to his teammates, following his gaze wherever he looked. After the second game, you overheard him introducing himself. Young-il. What a coincidence he looked like the police officer that visited your flat so many years ago. The name was what made you suspicious - you could have sworn the police officer introduced himself to you as Hwang In-ho. And it’s not as if you could’ve gotten those mixed up; you two spent many restless days trying to find the ones who were behind the robbery of your home. But, you smiled with some bitterness on your tongue, the outcome was obvious based on your situation.
You knew you were the only one watching him so closely. One of your teammates even joked about it, saying you were mesmerised by that man. But he just made you nervous - his presence planting a bug in your brain. Was he a spy for the government? Or was he just as miserable as the rest of you?
With another unsuccessful vote behind you, you could finally rest and get off of your adrenaline high by leaning against the railing of your bunk bed while nibbling on some bread. You took off your bloodied shoes that always made you nauseous just by looking at them and while doing some breathing exercises your eyes of their own volition found that familiar face in the moving crowd. Of course he is still playing, you thought. He was a cop, no matter what. You watched him give his own share of milk to the pregnant girl. Did he do it out of kindness or to manipulate those people?
“Seriously, Y/N, you must have a problem. What is wrong with you? Staring like that at that poor guy- he might get the wrong idea.” One of your teammates said to you, sitting next to you on the bed.
“Don’t worry so much. I’m just watching and that’s harmless on its own.”
“On its own, yes. But what you’re doing is more than that.”
You raised your brow in annoyance and curiosity and moved your eyes to her.
“And what is it that I’m doing?” You pursed your lips.
“Stalking, mildly put.” She grimaced at your look, sensing how close to irritated you were becoming.
“Stalking? Such a nonsense, Se-mi.”
“Well, whatever. Just be careful so he doesn’t notice or in the next game you might have even more trouble staying alive.”
“Yeah? Is that because you’re so done with me you’re gonna finish me off tomorrow?”
Both of you were grinning then.
“In your dreams, Y/N.”
***
The platform beneath you jerked to life but all your eyes could see were the puddles of blood everywhere. Your shoes were already drenched in it, the palms of your hands covered by it. You slipped on the blood so many times that your clothes were already camouflaged.
“Today I die,” you breathed out, ragged and scared. You knew you were right.
The music echoed in your head even as it quieted and the platform stopped. But you still couldn’t look away from all the blood, not caring anymore about the people around you.
“Two.” said the woman’s voice and panic began. You finally lifted your gaze, searching for Se-mi or anyone familiar but no one was around. People were screaming, dragging each other down, pushing, always pushing. And you just stood there, awaiting your unavoidable end.
“Come on!” There, a body appeared, and someone crashed into you with such force it was hard to stay on your feet. Hands grabbed your waist and with unbelievable strength half pushed you half carried you to the nearest unoccupied room. Only when your body connected with the floor and the doors locked behind you did you look up at the person who saved you.
“Tell me what you want from me.” Young-il or In-ho said, blocking the exit with his body, freezing you in place with those piercing eyes. So he has noticed, you thought, finding it hard to swallow, let alone speak.
“I know who you are.” you croaked and In-ho said nothing, but his laugh lines grew heavier.
“Do you?“ he asked after a while, his eyes sparkling. Was this just a game for him?
“Why didn’t you tell them your real name, In-ho?”
“What made you think you could talk to me like that?” You shivered at his words but your face remained impassable. Somehow, you weren’t scared of him, no. Just… curious.
“Same question.”
“You think I don’t remember you, right? But you’re wrong. The moment I noticed you here I knew exactly who you were, Y/ N.” It was hard to pretend that those words meant nothing to you.
“At least I don’t hide behind a different name.”
“It’s a precaution. Some of these people are criminals and if they recognised my name they wouldn’t be as happy as you to see me here, understood?”
Your cheeks reddened but that didn’t stop you from holding your ground. His gaze made you nervous and you started biting your lower lip.
“Would you stop doing that?” In-ho asked and you raised an eyebrow at him.
“You’re not the only one watching, Y/N.” he gave you a tentative smile.
Before you could say anything, the doors clicked and In-ho extended his hand to you as an offering.
“I can keep a secret… Can you?” A corner of his mouth curled up slightly and in answer you accepted his hand.
***
After you walked out of the room, the two of you didn’t speak until later that day in the dormitory. It was as if your roles switched - the whole day you felt his gaze following you wherever you went. It was driving you insane.
Thankfully In-ho approached you on his own, holding you by your elbow and gently leading you to a tranquil corner of the room.
“Stop staring at me to distract me!” you whisper shouted at him.
“Oh, I’m not staring at you to distract you.”
Again, the blush creeped into your cheeks. Flustered and ashamed, you looked away and bit your lip.
“I shouldn’t be here, you know.” he went on. His eyes were flickering from side to side, probably trying to see if anyone paid any attention to you.
“Well, I can keep a secret, can’t I?” you looked up at him from beneath your lashes, a spark in your eyes. A smile crept on his face but quickly disappeared.
“As soon as the lights go out today, the other team is going to attack us so they have more people voting tomorrow for the games to continue. You hide under the bed and be quiet, you understand?”
“Is this a trap?” you asked and stepped away, your hands starting to shake.
“Do as I say.” And that was that. With it, he meant to turn away, but you gripped his wrist.
“In-ho-“
“Would you stop doing that?” he retorted and moved his hand so it was him holding you. His knuckles were all white but he wasn’t hurting you.
“Doing what exactly, In-ho-“ before you could finish the sentence, the palm of his hand covered your mouth. Your nostrils were met with a musky and tangy smell.
“Don’t test me.” He let go of you and stepped aside. As he turned to go, he spoke over his shoulder: “When the lights turn off, come and find me. I’ll keep you safe.”
And somehow, no matter how dangerous this place was, knowing that you cannot trust anyone here, you trusted him.
***
“Light out in five minutes.” The woman’s voice resonated in the dormitory while everyone climbed into their beds. You sat at the edge of yours with shoes on, checking for the fifth time In-ho’s location. In your mind, you tried to blindly navigate your way and when you were finally convinced that you could do it, you loosened a deep sigh.
“Why so tense, Y/N?” Se-mi asked from the bed beneath yours. You climbed down onto her level and quickly checked if anyone was listening, before you whispered: “After the lights go out, gen under the beds. Trust me.” Thank god she didn’t question it, because you felt ridiculous enough for the both of you for even listening to In-ho. He didn’t have a motive to keep you safe. He had one to kill you, though. You were the only one here who knew his real name. You just didn’t know if it was information worth killing for.
“Lights out in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…” You looked around for the last time. The air was stale and tense. Your body started shaking immediately.
“Three, two, one.” The darkness fell like a heavy curtain. You quietly stumbled down the ladder, careful to make as little noise as possible. Your left knee nearly collapsed under you as you made the first step but you kept a firm grip on the railings as you slowly passed between the bunk beds. Two railings, you go right, tree railings, you touch the wall, you follow it into the corner, then four railings before you go left…. But it just wasn’t possible to move as quickly as required. You were three quarters in when hell was unleashed. The sounds of stabbing, screaming and gurgling filled the air but your legs refused to move. You were completely paralysed with fear.
Someone jumped screaming from their bed and stumbled into you. You fell with a yelp on the cold floor and tried to scoot under the closest bed, but someone was already there pushing you out, frantically repeating: “Get out, they’re gonna find me, you have to go!”
You scrambled on all fours and stayed as low as possible while crawling to where In-ho was supposed to be. You were such a fool.
There was a sudden kick to your abdomen and you gasped, pain resonating through your body. Someone tripped over you and fell with a scream, their hands trying to hold onto anything, which just happened to be your hair. You screamed with pain, blindly punching around yourself in a desperate attempt of defence.
“In-ho!” you finally screamed, not caring anymore if someone tracked you down because of it. There was so much noise that it didn’t matter.
“In-ho!” you kept on shouting as you got up and started frantically running in the direction you thought was the right one. You were starting to get desperate, your voice turning into a rasp, tears forcing their way out of your eyes.
Earlier, when you said that you were going to die that day, maybe it would actually happen.
Suddenly, a hand grasped your ankle and you were prepared for the worst. But when your name fell off In-ho’s lips, your shoulders sagged with relief and with a desperate cry you got on the ground and slid next to him under the bed.
“I thought I was dead,” you gasped out, hand on your racing heart.
“Well, me too if that calms you down.”
“It certainly doesn’t, In-ho.” you glared at him. He was looking at you in a strange way, something in his expression you didn’t know how to identify.
“What is it?” you asked, your stomach dropping. Was he actually betraying you? Or was he trying to kiss you? With that look on his face, you couldn’t say which one.
“Say my name again,” he breathed out, your breaths mingling. Suddenly, you noticed all the points where your body was touching his, your skin heating up at the contact.
“In-ho,” you mumbled and stretched out your hand to tuck a strand of his silky hair behind his ear.
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” In-ho looked at you with a pained expression.
“Not in the slightest,” you whispered softly against his warm lips as you kissed him.
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val-the-protoss-simp · 1 day ago
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Yeah, so. The best way I can explain my thoughts on these ships (especially Artazun - Artanis/Vorazun) is using one of Avril Lavigne's most iconic songs:
He was a boy
She was a girl
Can I make it anymore obvious?
Like, I'm not trying to throw any shade at all, people can ship whatever they want. But I am yet to meet a person who ships these two that explains why they like them so much in a way that makes sense to me. Because sooner or later, their explanation boils down to "He's a guy and she's a gal so ofc they'd be into each other" as if a straight ship is some kind of default and if a story has a male main character and a female main character, they have to end up together. And I just don't see it. Them as friends? Sure, absolutely, imo they're great as friends, but not as a couple. Alarak and Artanis have way more chemistry with one another. Bit of a hot take but so does Rohana and Vorazun. But Artanis/Vorazun is about as interesting to me as watching paint dry is. It's like when you pick up a mediocre romance book where the girl character obviously ends up with the boy character because That's Just How Things Are no matter of they're good together or not. No thanks. Pass
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Kerrinor is a bit more complicated in a sense that the game actively tries to convince you these two are really into each other. But if I had to sum up their vibes, I'd reach for Sk8tr Boy again. "He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it anymore obvious?" I just don't get the romantic vibes at all off of these two. Raynor frequently comes off as an incel that gives the vibes of someone who'd insist they know better than you and just to listen to them because they know best, while also transforming into the biggest simp in the galaxy in SC2 as he pines over a woman that's obviously not into him.
And Kerrigan gives me the vibes of someone who really does wanna see more in this weird relationship, but more because she thinks having someone to love will make her feel whole and worthy of living rather than that she really wants this. Like, if shit didn't go south and she didn't get infected, I'm 100% that eventually she'd go "Yeah sorry lol this ain't gonna work." and break it off with Raynor. Like, I do think she cares deeply for Raynor, don't get me wrong, and at one point might have thought what she feels is romantic love, but eventually comes to a point where she realises that it's a sense of kinship rather than anything romantic. She loves him as a friend, that is all.
And funny enough, if you know more about his character, you know he had a wife and a son that he tragically lost. Knowing this information and how he's written, Raynor comes off to me as someone who's desperately looking for that kind of love again, albeit without realising, because the time he spent happy with his family was the happiest he ever was and his defeated, depressed ass desperately wants that again. So he seeks that shit and Kerrigan just happens to be there.
You can clearly see that he cares deeply about her, but his feelings of affection are misplaced to the point he doesn't want to see the kind of person she is and instead tries to morph her into the kind of woman HE wants. Which is not who Kerrigan is at all. Revenge is all she has left, no matter what it takes, and Raynor again and again tries to talk her out of it for his own personal wants when she makes it very very clear this isn't something she wants to do and that she cannot just let go of what Mengsk did to her and what that man's choices turned her into. And instead of trying to understand why someone he supposedly understands so deeply would want to kill the man who robbed her off of everything and turned her into a monster that killed billions, he gets butthurt when she doesn't wanna run off with him and live happily ever after. I love Raynor for many reasons, I think he's a well written character in a lot of aspects but this just. Ain't it. If the game treated this behaviour of his as a flaw, I'd dig it. But instead it tries to tell how boo boo poor Raynor is just so unfortunate to want a woman that doesn't want him, even when he ignores everything that's important to her. That's just not doing it for me, fam. I get that the game tries to ram it down my throat as the technically only canon ship it gives us in its five installments, but I can't get behind it. Kerrinor is a big fat no for me, let them just stay friends.
a ship where i see what people see but it is simply not very interesting to me personally it’s like
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wtfaniii · 2 days ago
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I can do it alone, but he can also save me
Fem reader x Hwang In-ho / Fem reader x Hwang Jun-ho
Part 1 Part 2
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●Summary: Jun-ho's girlfriend was a decorated policegirl, strong and brave, she, along with Gi-hun were taken to the games to stop them, however, there was a setback in between
●Note: Thank you for welcoming me so well on this platform! I'm still learning how to use it, sorry, Wattpad is my thing LOL But I'm understanding it more now
●Warning: Maybe some drama? Some violence and discreet flirting
The reader doesn't know who is In-ho, Jun-ho refused to talk about his past with her, so she is engrossed in the true identity of this handsome man.
Well, the plan hadn't worked out the way they wanted.
They had taken away their trackers and any object, even the smallest, that they could use to defend themselves.
—Now what do we do... —Gi-hun muttered more to himself but audible to the girl in front him.
—I think the best thing to do now would be not to die —she answered seriously, the vows had been made and unfortunately, despite Gi-hun's attempts to persuade the players to withdraw, staying had been the final decision —For now we must eat if we want to win the next game —She added holding out in front of him the food the guards were giving them, but he refused to take it, he looked so lost in his own mind that she had no choice but to sigh and sit down next to him.
—Come on, open your mouth, belly full and heart happy —Jung-bae, Gi-hun's friend sitting on his right side, spoke while holding a spoon with the egg in front of his face.
—Last time I was here, many innocent people died —Gi-hun said, looking at his friend seriously. He wanted to convince him that everything he said was true and that they should leave there as soon as possible.
—Help us then.
There was a third voice that caught the girl's attention, it was number 001, the one who had the decisive vote and preferred to stay, whoever had the blue circle was a suicidal person from her perspective.
The rest of the players surrounded them waiting for some advice or positive words from the previous winner.
The girl just listened attentively to each of them, but the most interested was 001. He asked him more concise questions and spoke confidently, as if these games were not very different from the ones they played at recess when they were little.
Something that seemed curious to her.
He felt her gaze so turned it towards her so he could look the police in the eye.
Of course he had investigated her, from the moment she searched for her boyfriend on land and sea, he wouldn't say it out loud but his brother was lucky because if it hadn't been for her him would be dead under water.
Her eyes looked at him with caution and analysis, like a cat looking at a dog with distrust but ready to scratch if the situation arose.
He found it interesting.
After the rest of the players left, 001 stayed with them to continue talking until the conversation increased in tension, Gi-hun complained to him, if he hadn't voted for the circle they would have left there.
—Fine, let's stop this conversation now, there's no point in blaming each other —Jung-bae said to avoid any upcoming fight.
—That's right, now what we have to do is be prepared for the next game —She said —We have a bit of an advantage —added, looking at Gi-hun.
—I would like to join too —said number 388 jumping out of his bed.
He introduced himself as Dae-ho and the conversation changed from the winning player to the navy and the fact that both he and Jung-bae had been members.
It seemed like they would get along well and be a good team, however, the atmosphere became tense again when the purple-haired boy with the number 230 threw player 333 to the ground, being followed by 124, who kicked him in the face.
—¿Shouldn't we tell them to stop? — Jung-bae asked.
—Yes...
Seeing that neither of the two men was going to intervene, the girl stood up and walked towards them.
—That's enough, two against one isn't fair.
—You better stay out of this —Thanos pointed at her angrily, but after looking at her closely, he let out a laugh and clapped his hands, which echoed throughout the room and caught everyone's attention —I know you, you... policegirl, you arrested me a month ago.
Now she remembered it too, of course, that snobby rapper who tried to bribe her after she caught him buying and transporting drugs but she decided to ignore him and walked to 333 to shake his hand. —Get up
Before he could accept her kind gesture, Thanos pushed her back failing to knock down.
—This is not your playground, policegirl, I can do whatever the fuck I want here.
She remained silent, still with head held high, she was not afraid of him at all, she could easily defeat him but did not have time to do or say anything when 001 intervened.
—That's no way to talk to a lady.
She could defend herself, she didn't need any man to speak for her, however, that sentence seemed quite chivalrous, Jun-ho also intervened for her from time to time and that was a gesture that inevitably made her smile.
A smile that In-ho noticed.
—Is she your girlfriend? Or do you just fuck her? —As soon as he finished the word, In-ho already had him firmly held by the hair.
124 ran towards them with the intention of helping the purple-haired boy but in the blink of an eye he was already on the ground, the girl had knocked down with a kick.
With just three blows, In-ho subdued Thanos and pinned to the ground.
She silently analyzed him again, those movements were too precise to be from someone without experience, he could have been part of the police or even the navy.
They were congratulated with applause when the 230 began to gasp for air and forgiveness. As returned to their place, they both formally introduced themselves by giving respective names, a sign of trust.
Once again In-ho confirmed what thought, she was a respectable and valuable woman, one he would like to challenge more than should have for having gotten into these games.
N/A: I wanted to make a fic with a theme like that HAHA
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kizzer55555 · 2 days ago
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Do You Feel That?
Idea. So imagine the bats are going to Amity (or a place nearby) to investigate something. A building that had very strange readings, maybe even investigating a case. Probbaly starting in a forest. So this place is haunted naturally, and the ghosts can’t be perceived by the human eye. In this universe, Danny can technically become visible in his ghost form if he concentrates, along with many powerful ghosts, but their default is intangibility and invisibility and it’s just inefficient to use a that much power just to be seen. So most things that happen in Amity are not seen by normal people. Those infected by ectoplasm (the pits and ectoplasm being two separate things in this) are able to see ghosts after enough exposure. So if a hero were to come to Amity, they would see the destruction happening but it would look like some kind of invisible force, and then if they ask why others aren’t panicking, they just say Phantom is taking care of it.
Anyways, so the bats do not know about ghosts and are investigating this house and basically every kind of malevolent spirit you can think of is there and trying to mess with them. After all, even if they can’t see a ghost, that ghost can still affect them. And Phantom sees these idiots getting closer to one of the designated danger zones in his territory. (Or he was visiting a nearby haunted area due to the rising danger level and sees the bats right in the middle of it) The place all natives know to avoid at all costs. So the bats go anyways, completly oblivious to the danger. Danny arrives just in time to stop a ghost who was inches away from digging their claws into Red Robin.
And it goes on with Danny desperately keeping the ghosts back, tackling them, shooting them, growling and hissing and doing everything in his power to shield the oblivious heroes and keep them safe. He can’t even warn them because he’s spending too much power just keeping them alive in the woods. Because of course they decide to investigate the most haunted woods near Amity. Most of these spirits are old, angry, and wild.
And the bats are just casually going about their buisness, discussing the case and the evidence they found.
Danny tackles a ghost wolf to keep them from biting their fangs into Red Hood’s neck.
They follow some tracks.
Danny grabbing the shadowing tendrils attempting to strangle Nightwing.
They even joke around and push each other.
Someone temporarily possessed Red Robin and he starts reaching for a batarang with bloodlust in his eyes, before Danny digs his hands into the bat’s chest and rips out the foreign entity.
There is screaming, snarling, screeches, and lots of punches thrown, all unheard by the bats.
By the end, Danny is panting as they finally made it out of the forest. The bats are tracking a signal, and heading towards an abandoned house. Danny looks up and sees the place absolutly overflowing with spirits. They are crawling up the sides, eyes and teeth and tentacles moving through the wooden boards. Banshees and wraiths, eyeing them through the windows. Skinny limbs with barely any form creaking as their claws try to escape the house and reach towards the group below. Hundreds upon hundreds of spirits all confined to this small hut and ready to tear apart any who enter.
Danny takes one look at them, overhears the bats say that they have to head inside, and decide that he’s not dealing with this today. So he shoots a small laser to cut their power. No signal? No lights? No search.
He can hear the bats complaining but eventually, they have to turn back as they lost the signal and they are unable to continue. And hears them talk about how the place was so weird. Almost like something was watching them.
Phantom sags in relief once they are finally gone.
While they leave, Danny squares his shoulders because he needs to deal with all these ghosts before they get back.
Later, after not finding anything strange about the house or forest or the cause of their case (possibly a death? Or maybe just trying to find information connecting to something else?) and all the previous evidence and traces were gone. So they call in the magic users to use a spell to show the past and figure out what happened. And they can see the group in a sort of 3D holographic image as they investigated. But the spell doesn’t just show them, it shows every being from that time….so the group gets to see just exactly how close they all came to dying.
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joeyfranchise · 2 days ago
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all tangled up in the moon
justin herbert x fem!reader
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summary: you finally began feeling open to dating in your new home of sunny la, especially since your best friend didn’t love you back the way you loved him… unless he did? a telling double date begins unraveling feelings that you didn’t know were shared…
warnings: pining/mutual pining. expressions of feelings. a LOT of fluff. explicit sexual content, MDNI. 18+ only.
word count: 6.3k.
note: my first ever justin fic!! based on so many ideas from my bestie @joeyburrrow, also happy belated birthday btw 🫂 i’m sorry i didn’t get it posted yesterday! but, she and i have talked about so much of this and this fic truly is for her. ALSO— FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS FIC ONLY— i made justin allergic to walnuts. idk if he is or not, but it’ll make sense when you get there. i hope you like this. love you all. 💗
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the dating pool in los angeles was nothing short of horrible.
sure, there were tons of people, which meant tons of options… but that also lead to some problems. there was so much diversity around, which again, is great… but it often led to mismatched partners and having trouble finding someone with all of the same interests or morals or values as you.
that being said, while messing around on dating apps, you found yourself a date that ticked more of your boxes than anyone else had since you moved to the sunny city.
his name was damon, and he worked at a law firm that wasn’t too far from your own nine-to-five job. his profile said he was 6’2, in his pictures he displayed a beautiful smile, and his interests were similar enough to yours that you figured why not give it a chance?
when you swiped right he’d messaged you nearly immediately, which could’ve been a red flag, but he kept it sweet and professional. his personality shined through his messages and you found yourself genuinely laughing at some of his jokes, and that was always a good sign.
you ran into one little problem though. you didn’t really know anyone else in l.a. except for your best friend, therefore you didn’t have many people to trust. sure, you had coworkers and acquaintances in the office, but none of them were around you enough to be able to vet through suitors from your dating life to let you know who would work and who wouldn’t.
you were also afraid to go out with someone new alone, and you blamed that on being an introvert. you ultimately made the decision that either damon would have to be okay with your first date being a double date, or you just wouldn’t go. when damon agreed it was fine, you called justin worriedly - this was going to be the hard part.
he picked up after two rings.
“is this the krusty krab?” you asked teasingly, smiling as you heard him huff out a brief laugh. he lowered his voice before answering.
“no, this is patrick.”
“yeah, justin patrick,” you teased, “unless i called the wrong brother.” you chewed on your bottom lip as you heard him chuckle again.
“that’s my name! don’t wear it out.” he joked. you could practically see the dumb grin already etched across his face. you remained silent for a moment, the weight of the question weighing on you. when you didn’t respond, justin took the lead of the conversation again.
“hey, y/n? you okay? not that i mind you calling me, of course i don’t mind… but did you need something? is everything alright?” you appreciated his ability to talk you down in moments like this, it was like he could sense your nerves even from miles away, and over a phone call.
“i’m okay. but i have a tiny favor to ask. you know you’re my most favorite best friend in the wholeee world, right?” you laughed, trying to push past the anxiety of the question you needed to ask him. “i do. what’s the favor?”
“i have a date friday night and i’ve never met him before. i didn’t know anyone else to ask and.. i was hoping maybe you and chloe could come along? like a double date?”
justin and chloe had started seeing each other recently, and you liked her enough not to really worry about their relationship. sure, she was living your dream being with justin, but you practically knew he didn’t feel the same about you. while you were completely and utterly in love with him, he still saw you as his best friend, and you had learned to accept it.
when you first met chloe you knew she wasn’t his type, she was completely different from justin… but he seemed happy, and that’s all you ever wanted for him. she was excited to meet you too, and in the few times you’d seen her since she was always genuine and kind.
“i think we can make that work, i should be out of practice in time. i’ll let chloe know and then we can figure out where to go. there’s a new restaurant downtown she and i went to a few weeks ago, you’d love it. they have really good raspberry cheesecake!” he said.
“oooh my favorite!” you cheered, already daydreaming of the delicious confection.
“i know.” he agreed. you smiled on the other end of the line, the way he knew you from cover to cover made your heart ache. you only hoped damon - and if not him, then whoever was destined for you - could be such a wonderful lover to you. someone who truly cared to learn everything there was to know about you, just like you and justin did with each other, even if only as friends.
you and justin talked for a bit longer over menial things before you ended the call, bidding him a goodnight. you made sure to text damon about your plans, letting him know you’d get back to him about a time as soon as you could.
he was excited for your date, and also excited to meet justin. you learned damon was a big fan of sports, and even though he wasn’t a chargers fan, he still really liked justin and thought he was a great player. he didn’t believe you when you first told him justin was your best friend, you had to provide him with photo evidence. the whole ordeal made you laugh. after chatting briefly with damon you put your phone on your bedside table before rolling over and getting cozy under your blankets.
you went to bed with a smile on your face that night, excited for your date with damon and also excited for him to meet your best friend.
꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧
you sailed through the week on a high, and when friday night came you were still feeling ecstatic. you were still a little anxious about going out and meeting damon in person for the first time, but getting to know him through the week had helped you warm up a little and let your guard down.
you decided on wearing a simple black dress, classy yet not too-fancy. you curled your hair and applied a light layer of makeup before slipping on a pair of strappy black heels.
you planned on meeting justin and chloe at the restaurant at seven, giving everyone enough time to get ready and allowing justin to shower and freshen up after practice.
damon picked you up at six-thirty. he met you at your door with flowers which you graciously accepted, and you excused yourself to bring them inside and put them in water before locking up and going with damon to his car.
he opened your door for you and you slid in, buckling your seatbelt as you waited for him to get in and start the engine. it was a bit chilly out and you were grateful when damon turned up the heat before backing out of your driveway and heading to the restaurant.
you chatted with him on the drive and it was pretty pleasant, you were thankful that the conversation between you both flowed easily. you learned that his favorite football team was the los angeles rams, and you joked with him that he’d need to let you out of the car immediately because you wouldn’t stand for that nonsense.
he laughed heartily at your joke. he talked to you more about his job, you learned he was a paralegal and that he’d been in the profession for nearly four years. you told him about your experience working in human resources and you related over shared experiences.
when you arrived to the restaurant damon parked and came around to open your door, and you were quickly met by justin and chloe. damon and justin shook hands and introduced themselves to each other as you greeted chloe.
“i love your dress!” she smiled, you thanked her. “you look incredible too, chloe!”
she wore a light blue dress that came down mid-thigh and had long sleeves. she wore black heels as well, and you loved the glittery eyeshadow she had put on.
the four of you walked into the restaurant and justin spoke to the host about reservations he had so graciously called in - which you thanked him immensely for. the host led your party to a table toward the back of the restaurant and you all sat. damon made sure to pull out your chair, and justin did the same for chloe.
the waitress came by shortly after for your drink orders, you and justin both got water. chloe ordered a riesling and damon ordered a cabernet, which you found amusing. you didn’t say anything about it, though.
the waitress brought your drinks quickly and she also brought a basket of bread for the table, with little cups of cinnamon butter. you indulged in one as you listened to justin and damon begin chatting about football.
you and chloe began to chime in at times, and the atmosphere was nice. you and damon also engaged in your own quiet conversation every now and then, and you were starting to like it every time he’d flash you his award winning smile… until justin would smile at you from across the table. in those moments, you knew who your heart truly belonged to.
a few times during dinner the conversations would ebb off, or the input from chloe and damon would stop, leaving only you and justin talking to each other.
the waitress brought your food and you all began dining, while still chatting here and there about work and sports and things of that nature. the waitress came back around a bit later to take plates and your dessert orders. the men continued to talk while you and chloe ordered, with you asking for cheesecake and chloe ordering a fudgy brownie.
something damon said reminded justin of something he needed to tell you, and he turned his attention toward you quickly.
“y/n, i was meaning to tell you that my uncle had some students interested in trying to make a car run on vegetable oil.” you laughed at his statement before giving your input.
“so what, they want to install a second fuel tank i’m assuming? so the vehicle can run on diesel til it’s hot enough and then they’ll switch to the oil?” you ask. “yeah exactly. i thought it sounded pretty cool.” justin smiles. “sounds like a waste of time to me.” you say amusedly. justin tilts his head and gives you a questioning glance.
“it’s totally not a waste of time. if they can figure out how to do it, it’ll be pretty sick.” he disagrees. damon glances between you before chiming in. “i think it’d be pretty cool too!” he agrees with justin.
“do you know how many times they’d have to filter the oil before they could even use it? and they’d have to make sure to install a solenoid valve to switch between two fuel tanks. too much work.” you say, crossing your arms and looking back and forth between both men. chloe says nothing, you assume she has no idea what any of you are talking about.
you noticed damon checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and rejoining your conversation, but mostly listening to you and justin bicker.
“it totally reminded me of that 70s show though, you know? when hyde says ‘there’s this car…. and it runs on water, man!’” justin laughs, doing a pretty decent impression of the character.
“i just feel like making modifications to your car so it could run off vegetable oil is a waste of time.” you say, leaning back slightly in your chair. justin’s girlfriend looks between the two of you with an odd look on her face, only breaking focus when she sees the waitress approaching again.
“here’s the double chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream,” she says, placing the plate in front of chloe, “and here are the slices of raspberry cheesecake.”
she places the plate in front of you and damon is quick to grab it, sliding his piece of cheesecake onto one of the extra serving plates. chloe picks her fork up excitedly, slicing into the brownie and taking a small bite. her eyes roll as she tastes it, the richness of the chocolate has to be delectable. you watch as she cuts another small bite, this time more toward the center of the brownie where you can see it has small pieces of walnut in it.
she reaches over to cup justin’s jaw, squeezing a bit to get him to open his mouth so she can feed it to him. you ignore the slightly jealous feeling bubbling in your stomach as she brings it closer to his mouth, but you can’t get your words out. justin looks at her with a puzzled expression. he hadn’t been paying attention to her or what she ordered, so he has no idea what she’s about to feed him.
as if on instinct, your hand shot across the table and closed around her wrist, stopping her from feeding him. “s-sorry.. uh, justin is allergic to walnuts.” you say, lowering your gaze so you don’t make eye contact with her. she lets go of his jaw and he shrugs sheepishly.
“sorry baby.” she tells him, eating the bite for herself. “it’s okay.” justin replies. his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, nervous energy is shared between you. damon watches the entire ordeal silently, passing glances between the three of you as he eats his dessert.
you pick up your fork and take a bite too, and the tartness of the raspberry dances across your tongue in a pleasant way. justin was right with his recommendation, this restaurant truly is amazing. damon and justin begin conversing again, and you stay quiet as you eat, listening attentively.
chloe chimes in a few times, earning laughs from both men with her unintentional humor. you slide the last bite of cheesecake on your fork and bring it to your lips, ready to enjoy it, when suddenly your fork is plucked from your hand. you look up to find justin eating the last bite straight off of your fork. yours.
while you’re on a double date. with other people.
your gaze quickly flips from justin to chloe and then to damon as you try to gauge their expressions. damon doesn’t seem to notice or care as he continues talking about football, and justin nods along with what damon is saying as if this ordeal was the most normal thing that has ever happened.
sure, you and justin are close enough to eat off each others forks and sometimes even drink from the same cup or can, but the fact that he did it on a double date baffled you. neither of the men at the table seemed to be giving it a second thought, but when your gaze shifts to chloe you can tell she’s perturbed in some way. her eyes are slightly squinted as she looks you up and and down, and then her gaze shifts to justin as she does the same to him.
you continue to sit quietly at the table, listening to the men talk. chloe stays quiet, too. the tension between the two of you feels almost palpable.
you would never want to come between her and justin, even if you did have feelings for him throughout all these years.
the rest of the time spent in the restaurant went by in a blur. eventually damon and justin stopped talking, realizing that you and chloe hadn’t shared a word, and they mutually decided that dinner should be over.
damon and justin split the checks and pay before each of you stand from the table to leave. when you make it outside you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, you’ve felt like you were suffocating for the last fifteen minutes. all of you say goodbye to each other before you get into damon’s car, and chloe into justin’s.
the drive back to your house is quiet. you’re anxious, your throat feels tight and you know your cheeks must be incredibly pink. damon hasn’t even glanced at you and you’re afraid to say a word because if you do you’ll start crying.
he finally pulls into your drive and parks the car before looking at you for the first time since you left the restaurant. you wring your hands together before looking back at him, expecting the worst.
“that was fun, justin is a really nice guy.” his voice is genuine as he speaks to you, but you’re prepared for where this is going. “he loves you, y/n.”
you look at him with bewilderment as he continues speaking. you want to say something, but he holds up a finger to tell you to wait. “before you start with the whole ‘he doesn’t feel that way about me’ spiel, he does. i saw how you looked at each other all night. he doesn’t look at her like that.”
tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes as he speaks, and you turn your gaze from his so he won’t see. “you love each other, y/n. it’s okay. i had fun, i’m glad i met you.” he says, reaching over the console to grab your hand. he gives it a gentle squeeze and you look back up at him as he smiles at you. “i would like to be your friend, if that’s okay.”
“yeah, we can stay friends, of course.” you tell him. he lets go of your hand and gets out of the car, circling around to get your door and walk you up the front steps. before you can walk up damon pulls you in for a hug, which you reluctantly accept.
“it was nice meeting and going out with you, y/n. don’t be a stranger!” he says, and then he lets you go and gets back into his car, driving off down the street.
you let yourself in the house and lock the door behind you before collapsing on the couch. you don’t have the energy to move, to take off your shoes, or to even be worried about your makeup.
you just sit there, and you cry. you cry for all the lost time, if it is true and he does love you. and if damon’s wrong, and you do take the time to tell justin how you feel and he rejects you… well, you should go ahead and cry for that too. you cry for the only boy you’ve ever loved.
꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧
justin buckles his seatbelt and holds his foot down on the brake before backing out of his parking spot at the restaurant, ready to get home and into more comfortable clothing. chloe sits beside him silent, like she did for most of the dinner.
he spares a glance her way and notices her posture is rigid, her lips are pressed into a tight, thin line. justin reaches over to grasp her hand but she flinches away from his touch.
“are you okay?” he asks her, his tone concerned. “i’m okay. can you take me to my house, please?” she asks. her voice sounds small, she sounds upset.
“of course.” justin agrees. they hadn’t been dating long enough to make the steps to move in together, but chloe frequented his house often as long as he was home. he thought it was a bit strange that she wanted to go home, but he waited to question it.
when he pulled in her driveway and parked she was quick to jump out of the car and make her way inside. justin turned the car off and pocketed the keys before following chloe inside.
“um, is everything okay?” he asked, stepping into the living room. “no. we need to talk.” chloe said, sitting down on the couch. justin sat next to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee as he waited for her to speak.
“i think we should break up.”
justin is taken aback by her confession, but he doesn’t speak. he waits to hear her out. “i really like you, justin. and i think you like me. but you don’t love me. and you never will, because you love someone else.”
“what?” he asks, his tone incredulous. “you love y/n, justin. you know it, i know it, everyone on the planet knows it… except for her. i think you’re both idiots.” chloe smiles softly.
justin looks around the room nervously, waiting for chloe to speak again. “you’re both idiots because what you’ve been looking for has been in front of you the whole time. it was obvious you two should have been on a date. you both carried the conversation, you were doing silly impressions to make her laugh… you look at her like she’s your most prized possession, justin.”
he takes a deep breath before looking at chloe and finally speaking. “i’m sorry.” is all he’s able to mutter out.
“you don’t need to apologize. i’ll admit, i was upset at first. but on the drive i thought about it, and i just want you to be happy. and i figured someone needed to tell you that girl loves you, because if the two of you have been friends this long and you haven’t figured it out, i’m afraid you never will.” she laughs. “and god, i didn’t even know you were allergic to walnuts.”
justin laughs too before reaching over and pulling chloe into him for a hug. “thank you for telling me all that… and i am sorry. i really am.”
“it’s okay, justin. just get the girl, okay?” she says, shooing him out the door. he waves goodbye before walking off to his car and heading home.
when he arrives home he sits in the driveway pondering… did you really love him back? and if you have, how long? and what was he going to do?
he thinks of all the time he’s lost out on if it’s true, and you do love him back. he’d supressed the feelings for as long as he could remember because he never knew he had a chance - he never thought he’d be the one for you. and if he wasn’t he knew it’d break him, but all he wanted was your happiness.
all he knew right now was that he loved you, that you were the only girl he’d ever loved.
꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧
you don’t talk to justin for a week.
you’re afraid to. usually, he’s the first person you run to about anything, but since the subject matter is him, you feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. you spend the entire week sad, crying into your coffee or whatever dinner you’ve chosen to eat after work (usually cereal), and watching lifetime movies that are guaranteed to make you feel worse - they make the longing in your chest burn.
justin finally texts you on friday night, and you’re afraid to open it. you let it sit unread for half an hour before your phone starts ringing on the end table. it’s justin, you know it is, but you’re afraid to answer. you pick up your phone slowly and slide your thumb across the screen to answer the call.
“hello?” you sniffle, picking up a tissue to wipe your nose. “hey y/n, you okay?” justin asks.
“yeah, lifetime movie, sorry. what’s up?”
“just wanted to see if you wanna come over and hangout? i haven’t heard from you all week, i miss you.” he says. you miss him too. but are you ready to see him after what happened?
against your better judgment, you agree to go over. after all, he is your best friend. if anyone can get you feeling better, it’s justin. you hang up the call and slide on your slippers before grabbing your keys and phone and heading over to his house.
you didn’t bother changing, you didn’t care what you looked like in front of him. he’d seen you sick as a dog before, he even held your hair when you puked a few times, so he could handle seeing you in an old ratty tshirt and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big.
there’s also no way he could ever judge you for having greasy hair.
you make the quick drive to his place and you almost panic and leave before calming yourself down and walking to the front door. it’s just justin. this is no big deal.
you knock twice but you know he already knows you’re there, and he swings the door open quickly before pulling you into a tight hug. physical affection is something you both enjoy, and you’ve missed him. you wrap your arms tightly around him and squeeze back.
justin laughs as he looks down at you. “sometimes i forget how small you are.”
“or maybe you’re sasquatch.” you say, giving him a shove. he lets go and steps aside so you can get in the door, and you waste no time in sliding your slippers off plopping down on his couch. you notice his house seems a little… different, but you can’t put your finger on it.
justin closes the door and makes his way over to you, acting like he’s going to sit on your lap. “don’t even think about it.” you tell him, bringing your legs up to your chest. he sits next to you and leans into your side.
“how was your week?” he asks you innocently. “it was horrible.” you reply. you share the most miniscule details with him when he tries pressing you further, because you’re too afraid to tell him what’s really wrong. justin listens intently either way, hoping to find something he can do to make you feel better.
“well how’s it been with damon?” he finally asks, and you freeze. justin moves so he can lay his head on your lap, and he straightens out your legs before doing so. your hand naturally finds its way into his hair, your nails raking along his scalp soothingly. he shudders.
“damon um… well. he didn’t wanna go on another date. it wasn’t because he didn’t like me, though. he just said… he could tell u didn’t like him.”
justin hums softly. “interesting.” he says.
“what’s interesting?” you ask him. “chloe broke up with me.”
“WHAT?” you shout, startling him a bit. “sorry… i mean, what? why? i thought you guys really liked each other?”
“well, she liked me a lot. and i liked her but… i don’t love her. she really helped me realize a lot of feelings i had that i’d been holding back.” he turns his head to look up at you and smiles and - oh. oh.
the look he’s giving you seems to be full of pure adoration, pure love. and you realize that he always looks at you like this.
tears start to form in your eyes again and justin sits up, this time pulling you into his lap. “you okay?” he asks, soothingly rubbing his hand over your back.
that’s why it seemed different - all her stuff was gone.
“i don’t know. what’s happening here?” you ask him, burying your face in his neck. “chloe helped me realize that i love you, y/n. i always knew it, deep down. but… i don’t know. i never really thought you felt the same.”
“damon said the same to me. that he could, um, tell we loved each other. are we just stupid?” you ask him, pulling away from his neck to look in his eyes.
“apparently two idiots in love.” he says. his hand finds the back of your hair and smooths over it softly before he pulls you into his neck again, crushing you in another hug.
“so where do we go from here?” you ask, enjoying his embrace. “i guess forward.” he jokes, poking at your sides. “together, of course, if you want that. as a couple.”
you can’t help the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you as he speaks. of course you want that, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “i love you, justin.” you finally say, and being able to tell him to his face is like a dream come true. “i love you back.” he says softly. you meet his gaze once again and he looks nervous, but you aren’t sure why.
“what’s wrong?” you ask him sweetly. you softly touch his cheek, smoothing over it with your thumb. he doesn’t say another word, but he leans in and kisses you.
you feel dizzy, your heart is pounding incredibly hard against your chest. justin is over the moon too. your lips begin moving in sync, neither of you able to catch a decent breath as you devour each other hungrily. justin's hands find your waist and he pulls you into him further, and your arms circle around his neck.
he pulls away for a second before jumping right back in, awkwardly bumping his nose against yours. you both laugh before kissing again. this is truly what euphoria feels like. you don’t know how long you both sit there taking each other apart, whether it’s minutes, hours or days.
what matters is it’s happening. finally.
your hands trail down his biceps as he continues kissing you, leaving a trail from the corner of your mouth down to the exposed column of your throat. your breath hitches when his lips meet one of your most sensitive spots, right where your neck meets your shoulder. “you okay?” he says, sounding concerned.
“i’m nervous.” you whisper. his gaze is soft as he looks at you, half smile spreading across his face. “it’s okay,” he whispers back, “we don’t have to take this any further until you’re ready.”
you hug him again and kiss his cheek softly. “i want to. i’m just nervous.”
“there’s no reason to be afraid.” he assures you. “do you wanna…” he starts, cocking his head to the side and motioning toward the direction of his bedroom. you nod a simple yes.
he stands with you and leads you down the hall to his room, although you know very well where it is. you’ve spent countless nights here cuddled up with him.
he twists the knob slowly and pushes the door open before guiding you inside, and meeting your lips with his again. the kiss is soft and gentle, and he walks you back toward his bed without breaking contact. once you’ve reached the side of the bed he pulls away and reaches behind himself with one arm, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head in one swift motion.
uou hop up onto his bed and get cozy against the pillows as he crawls onto the bed too, leaning over you. you rake your nails over the planes of his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead. his fingertips find the hem of your sweater and his gaze meets yours, waiting for your approval. you nod, and he slides both hands under it before lifting it over your head.
you’re wearing a simple white bra, but justin is looking at you like you’ve just descended down from heaven. you know he won’t ask you to take it off so you let what little bit of confidence you have flowing through your veins take over, and you quickly reach behind you to unclasp it.
justin sucks in a deep breath at the sight of you. you’re easily the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen in his life, you have been since he first laid eyes on you… but seeing you like this… he feels like he’s died and made it to the afterlife.
you don’t hide your gawking either, his toned body has always been something you’ve enjoyed staring at whether he noticed it or not. “you’re so beautiful,” justin tells you, leaning in to capture your lips again. as he crawls over your body you can feel his length through his sweatpants, it lays hard and heavy over your leg. you shudder at the thought of it.
justin’s hands slide up your torso and he caresses your breasts softly before tweaking both of your nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. you arch upward into him and your body is covered in gooseflesh as you await his touch again.
you’ve never felt such pleasure and satisfaction in your life, and he’s only barely started. you’re sure that you’ve soaked through your panties and sweatpants at this point. he continues to grab at your chest as he kisses you and you moan out his name softly, causing him to rut against your leg. he needs you just as much as you need him, you can tell.
“justin, i’m ready. i want you.” you tell him, breaking away from his kiss to look into his eyes. he smiles down at you and raises his eyebrow, making sure one more time. “i’m ready.” you promise him. his hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants before pulling them down your legs quickly, along with your panties.
he pulls his off next and your mouth falls open, gawking at the sight in front of you. sure… justin was 6’6, everything about him was big… but holy shit. he is huge.
he smiles at you nervously before reassuring you, “it’ll be okay, i won’t hurt you. i swear.” you almost think you could faint at how cute and sexy he his. you tell him you don’t need any prep but he won’t allow it, and he uses the pad of his thumb to circle your clit quickly as he enters two fingers into you to work you open.
after a few minutes you’re ready, you can’t take anymore and you’re practically begging him to fuck you. he blushes at the sound of your moans, but his chest fills with pride knowing he’s making you feel so good. he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat slowly before wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes. you let him situate your body how he needs to and he ends up with your ankles right at his shoulders as he prepares to push into you.
he’s lucky you’re flexible. his lips find yours again as he pushes in and your thankful because his kisses swallow your gasps. he moves slowly, inch by inch until he’s fully seated, and he waits a few minutes before moving so he doesn’t hurt you. when he finally pulls out and pushes back in, he moans loudly at how amazing you feel around him. you moan too, you’ve never felt so full in your life - and you’ve never felt so fulfilled either.
he moves to kiss you again and bumps his nose against yours again sweetly as his hands find yours and he tangles your fingers together. his movements are calculated, slow and methodical as he takes you apart, and unravels you in the very best way.
the room is filled with soft moans and labored breaths and the sounds of you kissing each other anywhere your lips can find. it doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak and tears prick at your eyes when you do. this is all you’ve ever wanted, and it’s beautiful, it’s magical. justin feels the same.
you warn him that you’re close and he tells you it’s okay, you can let go for him. “cum for me, it’s okay. i love you, y/n.” and that’s all it takes. his admission of love knocks you straight over the edge and into the thrashing waters, your orgasm taking over your whole body. he cums soon after, his body enjoying the feeling of you squeezing him as he rides out his high.
when he pulls out of you he stand quickly, running off to his bathroom to grab a warm wet towel to clean you both up. he didn’t bother asking if you were on the pill, he already knows every aspect of your life anyway.
justin cleans all your sensitive areas with the warm rag before wiping himself off and sliding back into bed with you, pulling the covers over your bodies.
“that was amazing.” you admit.
“yeah it was. you know how long we could’ve been doing that?” he laughs, and you giggle too. “i love you.” you tell him. “i love you too, so much. can i tell you something stupidly embarrassing, though?” he asks, and you roll over to face him. “oh god, what justin?”
“remember after we graduated, right after you turned eighteen and we had that pool party?”
“yeah, i remember.” you say. it was one of your fondest memories, actually. “that little yellow bikini you wore… i just thought i should admit to you now that i thought about you in that so much when i was jerking it that i thought my dick would fall off.”
both of you erupt in laughter, the admission funny and embarrassing, although endearing too. “that’s okay, remember right before we went to college and you were teaching me how to drive but you kept getting frustrated and yelling at me? i thought that was the hottest i’d ever seen you.” you say. he pulls you into his chest and kisses you softly.
“you’re getting me all worked up again, baby,” he laughs, kissing at your cheek toward your ear. “looks like we’re gonna have to go for round two.”
- - -
taglist: @slimshiesty @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989
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summertimesadnessirl · 2 days ago
Text
Sometimes I think it's like...
Cis people also put a lot of effort into passing.
Or we're encouraged to feel weird about not meeting gender based expectations socially?
I don't know if it's dysphoria, it's not fair to use that word.
I literally am cis and I have felt, in my life, all the time, that I'm not a "real" woman in some way. Not in a way where like, I feel cool and empowered by the idea of being without gender. I thought maybe that was it at one point. Like "maybe I'm trans. I get along better with male friends who aren't attracted to me and treat me like one of the guys. I get along well with trans people and I find some gender based expectations really hard." I don't think I am, because I can understand the idea of wanting to do drag or not talk about your gender online but when I think of people misgendering me when I am not doing those things it feels really bad.
But? Like? That feeling is taught to you when you're a kid. It never goes away. Your body isn't gender dimorphic enough. People don't treat you like they treat the other people of your gender. They are all confused by things you do. Things they do confuse you.
In my case I decided I'm just otherkin. I don't talk about it much. People take it the wrong way. I am not like the other people, even the other people with a lot of my mental health diagnoses, because I'm secretly not a human being like they are. My mom wanted a baby and came home for lunch because she was ovulating, and it was someone else who wasn't my father and they weren't human and they didn't want me but they impregnated her. They suck for leaving me. Whatever. It's fine for everyone to feel like I don't fit because they're another species and they let me live here in their community but we misunderstand each other all the time. I try not to creep them out if they aren't mean.
But like... why do you think all those "femininity coach" "feminine energy" people are radicalizing so many cis women? Why is that the title of "the feminine mystique?" Men definitely deal with that, too. Cis people don't stop being insecure about their gender identity just because they are cis.
So that's part of it.
But also like?
When you first meet a nb person specifically, you're like ???
Suddenly you realize how many things you say and do have a gendered component in your brain.
Like in animal crossing?
The og animal crossing gave you the choice of saying
"Isn't it cute?" Or "Isn't it cool?" To tell the game your gender.
Isn't that weird? Like?
I didn't realize that's what the question meant, because it didn't say, and then I kind of felt insane for like a week after. Like???
Cool and cute. If you think of it as a question like "each one of these means a gender" you know which they mean is which. But if you just objectively say "do you think your name is cool or cute?" Why would someone think that? Also how do I immediately know which is which when you tell me cool and cute are the two genders?
I was a kid. They didn't have stuff about gender all over the internet then.
This was brand new information.
It was like...
Baby's first non dualism.
Idk.
People don't realize how much of manners is based on the person's gender unless they actually think about it.
And the older people are, the more important manners are to them.
Probably if they are not evil, you can just tell them how to do manners for you and they will leave you alone. Which isn't a good solution but that's the problem for people who aren't evil.
Okay but can anyone articulate the mindset that leads older people to feel like they NEED to know people's gender identity all the time? Like what's going on there
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millersfinest · 2 days ago
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untethered³ | e.w
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00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader
wc: 8.1k
series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!)
blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.
cw: +18, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, some vulgar language, fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), dina being a bitch, more horndog ellie, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), emotional cheating (from ellie), r using abby for sex, repressed emotions, crazy mature chapter (wasn’t intentional lmao)
note: lmao guys, i just wanna say as i proceed with this series… i do not agree w cheating on your partners DONT DO IT. don’t be like ellie (or the reader), it hurts people’s feelings and it’s just not worth it. i hope i tagged everyone who wanted to to be. bisous little lesbians/sapphics in my phone <3 please, enjoy this dramatic ass chapter x
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Normally, you wouldn’t be so pliant with Abigail—letting her hands drift toward the small of your back. Clearly, expressing her attraction, because she lost that privilege a while ago. But, you were weakened. And with the burning dark irises of an old friend into the back of your frame, you couldn’t help but let her. It was like she was some sort of cloak of invisibility. Some made up thing in your head ease your spirits.
You met Abby about a year ago, 2004, at some high profile event your agent made you go to. Isa introduced you as an aspiring author to anyone that she could, getting your name out there—which was a good thing, but horribly embarrassing at the time.
Abby was there with her dad, a well-known general surgeon in the city; when she was still in medical school. Wanting someone to talk to, you offered her a drink; a flute of expensive champagne. You didn’t hide your attraction to her, but you approached her with an open mind. Fortunately for you, the night consisted of flirting and great conversation. She was smart, and you loved smart women.
Give or take a few months, you withstand her busy schedule—dating each other, giving only a sliver of intention to one another. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but what you did know is that you couldn’t stand flakiness. Abby began to flake on you a lot; whether it was for her friends or work or school. For work and school you understood, but even then there were days you spent laying around each other completing your priorities. Somehow in the midst of your temporary romance, she began to cast you aside. Maybe it was because you weren’t drowning in money like she was. Or, she just didn’t like you—both were awful options.
Taking the lead, because you’d rather dump than be dumped, you broke up with her—she then hit you with: we weren’t in a relationship. Which was rough on the ears and heart. That was the first time you actually tried with someone in a long time, and she fucked it up. You learned your lesson, though.
The two of you didn’t speak for a few months, but then you called her on a very lonely night, begging for warmth. And, ever since then, it’s been off and on—you playing hard to get and her playing wanting to have.
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In the bar, with your hand clutching your cold, cheap cocktail, you walked with her in the direction of Ellie. Abby had her eyes set on her friend group, so she didn’t realize you were slowing down. “I’ll catch up with you…”
“Oh—“ She looked down, seeing the table of three practically gawking at her. Abby made a face that was unreadable. “Don’t make me have to come and find you.” She purred in your ear, slipping her arm from around your shoulders. Abby was such a show off when she wanted to be, which was more often than not.
An uncomfortable smile rested on your lips, hand waving, shortly, to the three sat at the rocky table. Ellie looked completely taken aback, leaning forward on her elbows. “Who the fuck was that?” Ellie whispered as you slipped into the seat she saved for you. Her jacket was placed on the back of your seat, holding it for you.
“Hey, y/n!” Jesse spoke, grinning ear to ear, leaning back in his wooden chair.
“y/n,” Dina said, plastering a fake smile on her glossy lips.
Jesse snickered, taking a sip of his beer. “Is that all you? Goddamn.”
“She’s just a friend from New York…” You waved a hand, dismissively.
“We just watched her feel you up and buy you a drink. Some friend she is.” Ellie countered, glancing over her shoulder at the tall, muscular blonde sitting with her friends. And, weirdly enough, Abby had her eyes on her, too.
You scoffed, holding up a hand. “Okay, she didn’t feel me up. Just forget it.” Shaking your head, you replaced that stern look on your face with a smile. “Anyway, how are you guys? It’s been a long time.” You wrap your lips around the straw sticking out of your drink. The sweet tangy flavor of the alcohol mixed with cranberry juice spreading over your tongue—easing your worries.
He glanced at Ellie, briefly. So fast, you almost missed it. Almost. “I’m doing good. Just moved into my new place in Boston. How about you, Dina?” Jesse raised an eyebrow, nudging her arm.
She stirred the ice in her water with her straw, raising a thick eyebrow. “I’m great.” Dina responded, simply.
“Great.” You say, sipping your drink, awkwardly.
There was silence between the four of you that could only be classified as awkward, uncomfortable and tense. Ellie boring her big eyes into the side of your face as you, purposely, ignored her. Dina no longer having a reason to speak because of your sudden appearance. And, Jesse, well… He was normal. If anything he was trying to fight the demon that was the awkward silence.
Ellie shook her head, a scoff falling from her lips. Abruptly, she stood up, walking over to the bar. Even though her beer was barely touched. “What’s wrong with her?” You mutter, watching her get up. She motioned for the bartender, and you watched them fill up a shot glass. Her slender frame leaned over the bar top, on her toes. Pale skin exposed between the belt holding up her jeans and the hem of her shirt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger there—places you’ve touched with the pads of your fingers…
“I don’t know… But, I’m curious. Be right back.” Jesse stood to his feet, taking his beer with him. Leaving, none other than, you and Dina left alone.
Chewing your lip, you slide your drink forward, looking her in the eye. Perhaps, it was the liquid courage settling in your muscles. “Things shouldn’t be weird between us… Ellie wanted me here.” You felt the need to defend your place. Ever since that day, she always seen you as some predatory figure—now, that you think of it… She had even before that day. Just did a better job at hiding it. You were the predatory animal chasing over your gullible and prancing prey—Ellie
“Yeah, and sometimes she doesn’t know what’s good for her. So… I’m sure she did.”
Ouch.
You physically coiled at her words. A dry, pissed scoff fell from your lips. “Fuck you, Dina.” You cursed, leaning back in your chair. Ellie could never do wrong in her eyes—it was obnoxious. Did she have a crush on her or something?
She dryly laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck me?” Dina raised an eyebrow. “Look at her!” She jutted her brown eyes in her direction. “Every time you’re around, she ends up looking that. A wilted fucking flower.” She scolded you, causing you to follow her eyes. Jesse spoke to her with intent eyes. Ellie ran her hands through her hair, eyes shifting side to side. You didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed serious. “Just face it, y/n… You’re the common denominator here.”
The common denominator. What an interesting choice of words.
“She’d probably have a better night if you just leave. Go home. Let blondie over there take you home… Or a taxi. I don’t care.” Dina turned her face from you, like you were nothing.
Your hands began to shake and tremble from her words. The muscles in your face twitched and heated up like a furnace—eyes welling up with pained tears. You sniffled, standing up from your chair. Trying every which way not to make a fuss—saving face. She was always such a bitch! So, instead, you rushed to the bathroom with the stiffest posture. Heels stalking by Ellie and Jesse with eyes set on the women’s restroom to unleash your fury.
It was like a gust of wind passing her, Ellie’s words trailed as she unloaded onto Jesse about where her minds been. He was, probably, the only person she could even share it with. Dina didn’t like you very much, she was too emotionally involved. Jesse wasn’t bias and could give her proper advice—it was just up to Ellie if she wanted to follow it or not.
Ellie confessed that the feelings she had for you hadn’t gone away. Something he already knew. But she explained it like an act of a possession—as if the softness of your skin, the beauty of your features, the smell that exuded from you was a spooky presence that just won’t leave her alone. A poltergeist. It was becoming a carnal need the more she saw you.
But what about Cat?
What about her?
Then, on cue, you passed her. Ellie only caught a glimpse of your face. Jaw trembling, the sound of your emotional hiccups. Immediately, her olive eyes shifted to the young woman left at the table. She clenched her jaw, shaking her in disapproval. “Jesse, can you get a fucking handle on her?”
“Easy, Ellie. Don’t talk about her like that. She’s just looking out for you— or trying to.” He told, shifting on his feet. “…And she’s pregnant.”
Her eyes widened. “What?!” Jesse motioned for her to whisper.
“Shh! I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Dina’ll kill me.”
“You guys aren’t even together—“ Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Congratulations.” She intoned, running her hand through her hand. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go check on—“
“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll talk to Dina.”
Meanwhile, you paced around the single person bathroom. Purse thrown to the ground, makeup smudged down your cheeks. Fists clenched at your sides, and every few minutes pounding a spot on your thigh that inflicted enough pain to briefly distract you from the pain inflicted on your heart. Dina doesn’t understand! You’re not a bad person for what happened that day. When will Ellie get the heat for what happened? Why does it always have to be you? It was always your fault.
So much time has passed, meaning you’ve thought about the altercation for a long time. Hell, it was all you thought about at times. You should’ve never put your hands on Ellie that way—you knew that. But, she shouldn’t have pushed you to do it either. That was her mistake. Pushing and prodding at someone she claimed to love. Ellie was aware of that, too. She wrote about it in that letter she hand delivered on her eighteenth birthday.
Wringing your hands out, you heaved. Emotions still weighing heavy on your heart. Her words cut you like a knife—triggering you. Before you met Tommy and Maria Miller, life was so much harder. Everything was your fault and your birth parents—and the numerous foster parents that you had—made sure that you knew that. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now.
What stopped your progressing thoughts was the gentle call of your name, and a soft knock. It was Ellie.
“Go away!” You sniffled, leaning over the sticky sink to get a look at your appearance. It was a tragedy.
“Please, just let me in. I don’t know what Dina said… But, I’m sure it was fucked up— look, she has her reasons.”
“She has her reasons—?!” You exclaim, looking at the door through the reflection.
“But that doesn’t make it right. I know.” You heard her lean against the door. “Please, y/n.”
Wiping your face, you sighed. Sniffling, you walked over to unlock the door, gulping. “It’s unlocked…” You spoke, weakly. Positioning yourself with your back against the sink, you crossed your arms. Watching her push inside the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Ellie pressed her back against the door, observing you with the softest pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen. It was charming. Through her thick eyelashes, pelvis leaning forward—like she was a child in trouble.
“I’m so sorry about Dina. I should’ve never invited you… I just thought things would be different.” She frowned, fiddling with her fingers in front of her body. Her fingernails had chipped black nail polish on them; focusing on that was easier than focusing on her.
“Well…” You dryly chuckled. “You thought wrong.” Slowly, you drag your eyes from her hands, to her face—avoiding her eyes, though. “Apparently, you’d be better off if I left… Or died; if it were Dina’s way.” Your voice trembled, tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Dina didn’t tell you to die, but that’s what her tone told you. All you were doing was existing. If that’s what stressed Ellie out then… Fuck. Maybe you should just croak, huh?
Ellie ran her hands over her face, taking quick steps towards you. “Fuck— I don’t know why she said that.” Her hand ran through her straight hair, frustrated at herself and Dina. “I—… I do want you here. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.” She reaches a hand out for you, but you flinch. There was a slight height difference to the pair of you—your heels caused you to look down at her. But, you weren’t looking down on her.
She was close enough for you to notice the orange-brown flecks in her irises. The ones you missed… So much, and desired wholly. However, you pushed yourself into the ceramic sink, fighting temptation. “Don’t tell me you actually believe what she said?” Her doe eyes looked up at you, demanding a response.
“I don’t know… It’s more than that, Ellie.” You analyze her features as inconspicuously as you could—which wasn’t possible. She noticed everything because she was doing the same thing.
Your bodies drew to each other like the opposite sides of conjoined magnets. Eyes intertwining and overcoming like they always did. Tensions were high, and you were in an enclosed space—your stomach rumbled with anticipation. “Tell me what it is, then.” The feeling of her fingers sliding up the curve of your elbow caused you huff, moving to the toilet to sit down. Cold air replacing where her fingers attempted to tether to you.
Ellie sighed, bunching her hand into a fist at her side. She knew what she was doing—after all, she was a pusher. It was hard to identify when to stop.
You dropped your head into your hands, forcing even breath from your lips. “It’s just… Old shit, okay? Dina struck a nerve.” You glanced at her through your hands, lips quivering.
Ellie took your previous spot, pondering. She knew about your life before your parents—how awful those people treated you; and she couldn’t understand why. You were a scorned person, like most of the kids you grew up with, but underneath it all you were soft. She’s witnessed that softness. And she will regret it for the rest of her life that she was the one to pull you from that that—all for dumb proof of trauma.
She realized too late that she was never alone in that traumatic suffering of the adoption system. After that day, she never wanted to see you hurt like that again. Or at all. Ellie wanted to make everything up to you.
Seeing those tears staining your cheeks; she wanted to kiss it better.
“I’ll talk to her.” The words fled from her mouth. Her old converse squeaked toward you, squatting before your sat figure on the filthy toilet. You turned your head, shutting your eyes and shivering at the thought of her. “Hey,” Her fingers grazed your jaw, pulling your eyes into her line of sight. “I will. She crossed the line— this isn’t my favorite version of you.” Her eyebrows deepened, pressing her lips into a firm line. She wanted to be level with you—not above or below.
Those words were music to your ears. Supple in its raspiness. The warm touch of her fingers on your face, you leaned into her hand. She had a favorite version of you? You reached up, gently gripping her wrist to pull it from you. Ellie shouldn’t have been touching you like this. But, even so, your bodies somehow gravitated toward one another. Eyes staring at each others parted lips, wanting. Needing. Her hand bracing on your thigh, pulling herself closer until your lips met.
Soft and forbidden. You gasped against her mouth, pulling away for a brief moment. Her olive eyes were pleading, and you just couldn’t say no. Being a victim of your flesh, your hand found its way to the back of her neck to pull her lips flush to yours. Mixed whines coming from the both of you; lips merging and meshing together. Creating something beautiful.
Every time you were physical with someone they were missing something. This was it! The passion, the history—the things that matter. The fucking chemistry; it was all there with Ellie. And, deep down, you knew that it was the only place you were going to find it.
She pushed into you, being guided by her carnal desire. Whining and growling into your mouth. Hands gripping at your hips, and the side of your backside. Ellie was hooked under a spell you concocted—some aphrodisiac that exuded from you. And she wanted to breathe more of you in until she couldn’t anymore. She was gluttonous.
Breaking her trance was a rough knock on the bathroom door. The two of you basically jumped apart; you falling into the toilet, nearly touching the water, her falling on the floor. Some of the glitter on your lips had rubbed off onto hers—it looked nice on her, but that was besides the point.
“Some people need to piss! Get out of the fucking bathroom!” Some heavy handed woman exclaimed from the other side.
A smile spread on her lips, hazy eyes watching as you pulled yourself up. “Fuck, Ellie. Why are you smiling?” You walk to the mirror, taking a look at yourself. You and Ellie had just kissed. The same Ellie who’s girlfriend is waiting for her back at the guesthouse. The pressure was already hitting you like a ton of bricks—Ellie was right, you had a terrible poker face. How could you forget about this? “Can you hand me that?” You pointed to the purse beside her.
She chuckled, standing up from the floor. Your purse was in her hand as she walked up behind you, handing it over. Her other snaking around your hips—clearly, still overcome. Taking the purse, you smack her hand away. “Enough!” You scold, deepening your eyebrows. She pouted, crossing her arms. Leaning her back against the wall, shutting her eyes. But it was soon replaced with a smirk.
Your fingers rummaged through your purse for your lipgloss. “This didn’t happen… This never happened…” You muttered to yourself. Once you found the sparkling tube, you began to apply it like a nervous tick. “I still don’t know what you keep finding so funny— nobody can find out about this, Ellie.” You turn to her, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse. “What just happened isn’t fucking funny—“
You were a homewrecker, a thief of girlfriends—watch out New York!
“You’re spiraling.”
“Yeah, and I have every reason to. This isn’t me. I’m not this person. You have a girlfriend!”
Ellie watched you ramble with a look of in awe in her eyes—you were fucked, and so was she. “I remember…” She couldn’t compel herself to care about the repercussions of hr actions; Ellie just wanted you. Even more now than before. She was given an inch, and she was ready to take a mile. Perhaps, longer if that was possible. Your ethics only made her want you more.
The glitter on her lips distracted you, causing you to reach your thumbs near her lips to wipe away the signs of you. Her wide eyes looked up at you, hands wrapping around your wrists. Where did she learn this type of behavior from? VHS porn?“Ellie, will you quit it?!” You stomped your foot, squeezing your eyes. “Fuck me.” You whisper to yourself, adjusting your purse.
“I’ll see you at home…” You mutter, placing your hand on the door handle.
“Am I not driving you?”
“No. You’re gonna stay here, mingle—fuck, I don’t care.” You shook your head. “Abby’s gonna take me home.” The words rushed from your lips because you were thinking and speaking at the same time. You needed an alibi and that’s what Abby was going to be.
The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath. Jealousy peaking inside of her like it did earlier. “Abby. Abby… The buff blonde you walked into the bar with— the one who was feelin’ you up.” She popped the p sound, nodding her head with searching eyes.
“She wasn’t feeling me up. I don’t think you know what feeling up looks like.”
“Show me, then.”
Your jaw almost dropped from its hinges, gasping at the woman before you. She was shameless, and you were the complete opposite—it was a recipe for disaster. “Like I said… I’ll see you at home.” You opened the door, slipping through to allow her some privacy. The people must’ve opted for the men’s restroom. Fucking freak. You thought, fighting the amused smile off your lips.
Adjusting your top, you approached Abby’s booth. She was surrounded by familiar faces—you knew them-ish. “Abs, can I talk to you for a second?” She looked up at you, blinking with slight confusion at your state.
“Oh, hi, y/n!” A short-haired woman grinned, wiggling her fingers at you.
You smiled at her, while Abby shimmied out of the booth. Taking her hand, you led her away from her friends, keeping her large hand in yours as you began to speak. “I know it’s early, but could you take me home? Like, now?”
She deepened her eyebrows, a hand dropping to your face, wiping at the mascara stains that had run down your cheeks. “Are these tears?” She bunched her eyebrows, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side. “I saw you run to the bathroom—“
“It’s not important, all right?” Your eyes peer up at the blonde woman, pressing your lips into a line. Pleading and batting your eyes at her—you really wanted to go home. And you weren’t necessarily doing it for Dina, it was more so because of her. As well as the fact that you had just made out with a woman who was spoken for. Whose girlfriend who is only ten minutes away, and who also offered to get champagne for Thanksgiving after you mentioned its absence. It was currently, probably, chilling in the fridge as all of this unfolded.
While you semi-sensually begged the woman to drive you home in her Jaguar, Ellie had gotten herself together in the bathroom. After you left, she released a joyful laugh once the door shut behind you. As if she had finished with making out with the hottest girl in school—very teenage-like. Her cheeks were flushed, blushing a warm mahogany through her freckles. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you; the kid proved that much.
But, then, a pang of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. A fragment. Very small and minuscule.
It wasn’t right away; Ellie was certain that you thought of her to be cold based on how she was handling the situation. She had a girlfriend and found the situation amusing? You’re right—nothing was funny about what happened before you fell into the toilet and before she fell onto the floor. The both of you had managed to dig yourselves into a hole that she didn’t want to get out of. And she was sure you felt the same—she hoped you felt the same. Holes were fun, right?
Ellie wanted to keep digging deeper, and deeper, and deeper. She wanted to envelop herself with you, just like she used to. However, this time, she wasn’t planning on letting you go.
Cat was just something—someone she had to deal with in the meantime. She’s gonna fix it… Ellie just doesn’t know how, right now. She can’t think straight. Pun intended.
Leaving the bathroom, she checked her cell. Noticing the few messages her girlfriend had left her during the short period of time she had you to herself. Her avoidant nature caused her to skim them, then slap her phone shut.
“Everything good?” Jesse questioned, watching as she approached the table.
Ellie shoved her phone into her front pocket. “Yeah… Everything’s fine.” Her olive eyes averted to Dina. “Dude…?” She squinted her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Els. I went too far, I know.”
“I’m glad you know.” She sat in her chair, glancing over at you talking to the buff blonde. “What you said was fucked up, and I should be more mad at you, right now…”
She sighed, pouting her lips. “Well, thank you for your mercy, sire.” A smile creeped onto her lips.
“Dina,” Ellie narrowed her eyes, shaking her head.
Jesse side-eyed her, pressing his lips into an unimpressed line. She looked over at him, lips parting. “Just tryin’ to lighten up the mood. Excuse me.” Dina deepened her eyebrows, sliding down in her chair.
Ellie chortled, shaking her head once more, making sure to swing it far to get a glance at you. She watched you follow Abby back to her booth, telling them that you were leaving. Her hand guiding you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Fuck, that should’ve been Ellie. She hated watching you lean into her like that—shrinking yourself. That wasn’t you.
You were bold, opinionated, and despite your strict upbringing, you never shrunk. If anything, Maria and Tommy’s parenting gave you confidence. That used to intimidate Ellie, but it didn’t anymore. It influenced her.
As you walked out with Abby, Ellie gave an awkward wave, but you snapped your head in the other direction. You needed to clean your pallet, and that’s exactly what you were planning to do in that shiny black Jaguar.
When the door opened, the brisk, autumn air hit you, cooling your body down. But your mind was still set on using Abby as a cleanser—a handkerchief to wipe you of your mistakes.
You feigned a straightforward destination, giving her the address of your childhood home. But, halfway, you told her to pull over onto a dark dirt path. She made a joke, asking: Is this where you kill me and steal my car?
And you respond, full of need: I don’t want your stupid fucking car. I want you. Launching yourself over the center console, wrapping your arms around her face. You swing one of your legs over to straddle her in the driver’s seat. Hips grinding against her, shoving your tongue down her throat like she was going to leave you. Although, she wasn’t going anywhere—not with you on her lap, anyway.
Abby groaned into your mouth, gripping your ass over your jeans, pushing you harder against her. Messily, you begin to trail your lips down her jaw, toward the softness of her neck. Urgently nibbling at her skin. “Fuck, you’re eager…” Abby muttered through her heavy breathing. “I like this version of you.”
This isn’t my favorite version of you. Ellie’s voice echoed in your head. It frustrated you.
Warmth built up under the crotch of your jeans; the thick seam doing very little for the pleasure you wanted. “Please, Abby…” You breathed into her ear, tugging at the silver ring through her cartilage. “Touch me.” Reaching for her hand, you place between your legs, cupping her hand as she groped you. Meeting her eyes, you taunted her, chewing on your bottom lip.
The blonde didn’t hesitate, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving her hand inside. She was always quick to give rather than receive—listening to any command you spoke. As the pads of her fingers contact with where you needed her the most, you sighed. “You’re so wet for me already…”
It was debatable whether it was for her or not. With your eyes squeezed shut, you imagined the earthy, olive eyes of your past lover. The softness of the her lips. The desperation in which she put her all into pleasing you—it was experienced before. But, at that point, you were amateurs. So much has changed since then. You were curious how much, though. “All for you.” You whined, rocking your hips against her hand. Lying through your teeth.
She pressed two fingers into you, pushing a moan from your throat. Hands gripping her shoulders, bracing your weight. You imagined them to be her fingers curling deep inside of you—pulling sounds from you like a puppeteer.
You were worser than you thought.
Abby was supposed to be a pallet cleanser, but instead she was just a vessel for your horny fantasies.
The palm of her hand rubbed against your clit, pushing you closer to an edge you wanted to fall off of. A tightness built in the pit of your stomach—burning like a prosperous flame; standing by to erupt. “Ah… Fuck, yes!” You lewdly affirmed, fingers gripping the roots of her hair, back arching into her. The smell of lavender shampoo wafting into your nose from how close you were.
Ellie would never wash her hair with lavender shampoo. She stuck to sweeter, muskier smells. The one’s you liked.
Your legs trembled around her hips, jolting with every stroke and thrust. Her ministrations intensifying causing the sounds from your lips to get louder, laced with desire. “Abby,” You trembled with a warning tone. “I’m g—gonna… Fuck, I’m comi—“ Your choppy words are cut off with the snapping of a band in your stomach—spreading over you like a brisk gust of wind. Shocking your body into a brief state of paralysis against her strong frame.
She coax’s you through your orgasm, with that same come hither motion that got you there to begin with. Although, she was so quiet. That’s when clarity hit you, as you shakily rocked against her hand. Reaching down, you grip her wrist, kissing the pressure point under her ear. “Can you check the time f’me?” You sweetly ask, still subtly, rutting against her.
Abby checked the watch on her wrist. “Eleven-something.” She hummed into your neck.
“Eleven-somethin’, huh?” You tease, lifting off her, trying to settle back into the passenger seat. “I should probably get home…” You zipped and buttoned your pants. Normally, you’d be eager to return the favor, but your plan didn’t work—and, frankly, that irritated you. That nerdy, auburn-haired, freckled woman, that you knew so well, had burrowed herself under your skin already. It was a recipe for disaster.
There was a twitch in Abby’s brow at your sudden departure from her. She felt that bite of coldness; it was something she wasn’t used to. Nonetheless, she drove you home. With you leaning on the window, watching dark, shedding trees pass you by. All the way until you felt that familiar shift from side to side as you cruised over the gravel that led to your childhood home.
“How long are you gonna be here for?” You asked as she pulled to a stop, where Ellie’s car was previously parked. It was out of courtesy to wonder; these parts of town wasn’t really for people like her.
“Until the end of the week, then back to work.” She turned toward you, pushing her hair behind her ear. “When am I gonna see you again?” Record scratch. Abby Anderson has never asked you that. She was always aloof and carefree. I’m too busy. Let me check my schedule.
You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “I’m really tying to spend some time with my family, but— uhm… I’ll call you, okay?” Leaning over the console, you place a lush smooch on her lips—riding on the confidence from her lack thereof.
Getting out of her expensive car, you adjust your clothing before walking into your house. Thankfully, the lights were off, meaning your parents were asleep. Thank, God. You looked awful, and you preferred not to be questioned on your state, Ellie’s whereabouts, and who took you home.
Gently, you shut the door behind you, keys jiggling in your hand. Slipping out of your heels, you tiptoed toward the fridge just to prove something to yourself. The white light from the fridge illuminated your deadpanned expression as two tall bottles of champagne sat on the second shelf. Nobody likes champagne that much. You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath.
Cat didn’t deserve any of what happened tonight, and you hated that.
When you got to your bedroom, you wasted no time to peel the clothes from your body. Falling atop of your mattress like a starfish. Before you slipped under the covers, you pulled your laptop onto your stomach to log into your MySpace. There was a red notification on your activity icon. When you click on it, StarlightWilliams had added you back—you were mutuals now. The pads of your fingers touched your lips, remembering the softness of hers from that moment in the bathroom. The pressure of her slender fingers gripping your sides—wistfully you sighed, slumping your head against the fluffy pillows and stuffed animals against your headboard.
Suddenly, your computer makes a sound—a ping. You sit up, squinting at the incoming notification.
kit_cat79 wants to be your friend!
What a coincidence. The website exposes whether you were online or not—you couldn’t hide from her. So, you decided to add her back. Cat’s picture was of her with her tongue out, dark bangs styled to the side. You didn’t realize that she had a tongue piercing—could she get any cooler? Maybe you should get a tongue piercing.
Her mood hadn’t been recently updated, but it was: Optimistic.
Her bio didn’t over explain much, but said more than her freckled counterpart: my name is cat and i do tattoo’s !! message me for inquiries (or ur a loser). Your eyes and cursor skimmed her account, not paying attention to the smaller details. Quickly, you navigated to the pictures and videos. There were some pieces of her work, candids of Ellie, pictures of her at band shows—
kit_cat79: hey… i know it’s late, but that was you who just got back, right?
The messages appeared at the bottom left corner of the screen, blinking green.
BugsWritersRoom: Hey, yeah. That was me…
Duh.
kit_cat79: i thought you went with ellie in her truck. also… where is she? she’s not answering my texts.
Was she worried about her? Or was her questioning coming from a place of distrust? Or, a secret third option... you had a bad case of paranoia.
BugsWritersRoom: She’s still at TB. I’m sure she’s just distracted catching up with Jesse and Dina.
kit_cat79: oh…
kit_cat79: that was some car you pulled up in...
She was wanting to start conversation, but you were too tired. You didn’t want to think about, or talk to another person about Abby. Let alone, talk about her with Cat. No offense. Sleep is the only time when your mind was going to finally rest, and you can resume thinking tomorrow.
Leaving her message on seen, you shut your laptop, pushing it to the side. You took Cat’s message as a sign to shut it down, reaching to click your lamp off.
You allowed sleep to take over, cuddling into your pillows as if it were a body. Hitching your leg over it, tugging it to your chest. Could you have been more evident in your loneliness? In your restless dreams, your brain scoured for something to show you. Something relevant, of course.
Olive eyes, freckles, prominent beauty mark—it was obvious what images it was looking for. Ellie.
By the time the sun lingered on the horizon, a tragic alarming song sang in unison to wake you—the sound of your ancient alarm, and the sound of the rooster sat atop of the chicken coop. Groaning into the pillow you held, squinting your eyes open. It had pulled you from a dream that was… Certainly, a dream. It was untoward, lewd; just straight up nasty.
There was a wetness between your legs that was the first to get your attention. Out of shameful curiosity, you reached your hand under your shorts; hoping it wasn’t your period suprising you. Pulling your fingers out, there was an absence of the dark hue that was a symbol of your menstrual cycle. It was fairly clear, shiny, and slick. You were a victim of a wet dream. How juvenile.
The sight of it only made your hornier. So, while you still had time, you jumped for one of the bags you brought. You were expected for morning chores, but there was always time to rub one out.
Taking the battery-powered silver bullet from you bag, you attempt to switch it on but it doesn’t respond. You even switch the batteries around, blowing into the port. “Come on…” You complain, but it still it doesn’t adhere to you.
You groan, falling back into your pillows. There was nothing wrong with going old school, but you were a creature of habit.
Sliding your hand down your body, you slip under your shorts and underwear. It didn’t take long for you to completely rouse yourself, blinking your eyes shut to fall into your imagination. Usually, the best material was your most recent hookup—or some celebrity crush that you couldn’t get over.
The movement of your finger mirrored a strong blonde who always aimed to please you. You could imagine yourself gripping her long, silky hair, pushing her into your pussy—devouring you. Feeling her hands gripping your thighs, anchoring them to the mattress.
You relished in the feeling that was slowly washing over you. So much so that when the image of blonde hair began to fade and be replaced by short auburn strands, you barely noticed. Subconsciously, replicating the dream that kept you snug as a bug all through the night.
Your ministrations quickened as you neared finality. Bottom lip slipping between your teeth. Soft, repressed moans sneaking through them as your hand clutched your breast, thumbing your sensitive nipple. The serotonin levels increasing with every swipe and slide. Fuck, El—
Downstairs, the artist peeled dried paint from her fingers, waiting for you. Staying out late knowing she had to get up for chores was a huge mistake. There were many mistakes that happened last night. Another being, ignoring Cat’s messages. Ellie pulled into the driveway not too much later than you—it was nearing one o’clock.
When she entered the guesthouse, shrugging off her jacket—with a mind busier than New York City herself—Cat was found in the small living room. With her thin eyebrows bunched together and her arms crossed over her chest. Dressed in nothing but a fitted tank top and cheeky underwear.
Ellie had looked at her with a stressed look, “What are you still doing up?” Walking past her to the bedroom to undress and unwind. Cat scoffed, following her to the bedroom. Slippered feet stomping behind the artist.
“What am I doing up?!” She chided, twitching toward her. “I’ve been texting you all night, Ellie. You couldn’t respond to one?”
The freckled woman plopped onto her side of the bed, kicking off her shoes. She pretty much saw the messages as they were coming in; Ellie just didn’t have the nerve to respond. She didn’t feel like it. Not after what happened in the bathroom—she couldn’t come back from that. Hell, she didn’t want to come back from that. The only image replaying in her mind was your lips on hers. Your hands imbedded in her hair. The wanton sounds coming from you that she wanted to hear on again, and again, and again. That feeling of being between your legs...
And, let’s not even get into how it felt to see you leave with Abby. That ruined her whole night. Not even Jesse could cheer her up.
She ran a hand through her hair, looking over her shoulder with a tired expression. “Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” She began, standing to her feet to remove her jeans. “We just got too carried away talkin’ and whatnot.” Walking to the bathroom in the bedroom, she shed her shirt from her body. Ellie found it too easy to lie—she’s always been good at it. And, Cat was pretty gullible. But she had to throw a monkey wrench in there to really calm her down.
“Turns out… Jesse got Dina pregnant.”
“What?”
She turned on the shower, then peaked out of the doorway. “Yeah, how crazy is that?”
The tattooed girl fell onto the edge of the bed, eyes casting toward the ground, full of uncertainty. “Super crazy…”
Noticing the subtle dejection in her features, Ellie sighed. Leaving the doorframe as the shower ran hot in the background. She appeared before her, reaching her hand down to lift her chin. “Kitty Cat,” Her voice was soft and oh, so forgiving. “I should’ve responded to your texts— I’m an asshole. Let me make it up to you…” She sultrily offered, caressing the softness of her chin with her thumb.
And that’s what she did. Ellie made it up to her girlfriend of almost a year. By fucking her in the shower hard enough to make her forget about all of her uncertainties.
She had a long night.
This morning, she got up an hour earlier to get a better start on her sketch—she even started incorporating her oil paints. That’s what was stuck to her hands. The coloring in of her portrait of you in front of that shed. She felt the need to freeze that moment in time; where you embraced each other in the arms of company for the first time in too long. That hazardous kiss you shared in that sticky bathroom at the Tipsy Bison inspired her to color in the lines.
“I normally hear her up and movin’ around… She’s taking longer than I thought she would.” Maria commented, munching on a buttered bagel. “How long were you two out last night?”
Ellie inhaled, lifting her eyebrows in thought. “I got back around one, but y/n came back earlier than I did. She got a ride from a friend.” She shrugged, the ends of her lips curling, mischievously. “I think her name’s… Abby.” Ellie added, glancing between the two parents.
“Hm. What made her leave early—?” Tommy began to ask, but he stopped himself. He frowned, leaning his elbows on the counter, peering at the auburn-haired woman across from him. “How’s Dina doin’?”
She chuckled. “Still pissed, if that’s what you’re getting at?” Ellie went from peeling paint off her fingers, to fiddling with them. “They got into a bit of a…”
“Fight?” The blonde woman questioned, deepening her arched eyebrows. She never liked hearing about you fighting—or seeing it. That was a strictness Maria was never going to get rid of. Tommy used to get into fights a lot, finding himself locked behind iron bars at the county jail. But that was years before he moved to New York. When he still lived in Texas with Joel.
“No.” Ellie bunched her eyebrows in defense, shaking her head. “It was an argument, but it didn’t last long. I handled it.”
Steps sounded from the stairs, silencing the three. Pairs of eyes peered up the stairs, hoping that it was you stalking down the steps—but it wasn’t. When he began clearing his throat and coughing, loudly, they knew it was Joel. “Goddamnit…” Tommy rolled his eyes, slapping his hand against his thighs.
“Good mornin’ to you, too, Tommy.” Joel scoffed.
He huffed, licking his lips. Just like you did when you grew irritated—Tommy’s antics had rubbed off on you. “Is there any signs of life from my kids' room—? Because she should’ve been down here five minutes ago.” He looked to Joel before glancing at his watch. “Maria and I planned for her to teach Ellie how to do our grocery shipments.”
“Grocery shipments?” Ellie cast her earthy eyes toward Maria.
“It’s a lot of information, but I’m sure you’ll catch on just fine, Ellie.” She placed her hand atop of hers, pressing her lips into a smile. “If only your teacher could be timely…” Maria sighed.
The freckled artist stood up straight, pursing her lips. “I can go check and see if she’s up…” She offered, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m sure she is— maybe she just needs a little nudge. I had rough time this mornin’, too.” To be frank, offering to grab you from the second floor of the house was clouded with selfish intentions. Ellie hadn’t seen your bedroom since she was seventeen. She couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed.
And, she wanted a useful reason to talk to you.
Your parents are wondering what the hell you’re doing— also, how was our kiss from 1-10?
Hey, you’re supposed to be teaching me about grocery shipments, right now— hypothetically, would you kiss me again… Or?
She was such a loser for you; she always has been. “If you don’t mind. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing you more than me.” Tommy chuckled, nudging his wife but she barely broke a smile. Staring her husband down with icy, blue eyes.
Ellie’s eyebrows twitched, but she decided not to interact with whatever happened there. Quickly, moving to the stairs to find you.
What she could remember about your room was the pink wallpaper and the posters. You used to be very persistent in upgrading old ones for new ones—saving the old ones in your closet. She found it amusing how you could never get over anything; you liked to collect things. As many things as possible—posters, collectors items, superhero figurines—you were an undercover geek!
The fascination you had with catwoman was insane. But, understandable.
The stairs of your home was guided by many picture frames. Pictures of you lining the walls. The bottom starting with photos of you when you still went heavy on the eyeliner and hairspray; gradually preceding with much happier images of you. The final photo being the whole family together, including Ellie. It was taken after your college graduation, in front of the house. You were sandwiched between your grinning parents while Joel and Ellie were on both ends; her sporting a timid smile, and him grinning just like his brother.
She was so proud of you that day, but didn’t dare to enunciate that how she really wanted to. At the time, the shoulder you gave her was ice cold. Brisker than the harsh weather of the east coast.
When she emerged at the top step, the first door in front of the stairs was cracked open. But that wasn’t your bedroom, that was your parents’ bedroom. Down the hall, to the right, after passing an open floor planned media space, was the guest room. Where Joel was spending his nights. A little further down that hall was your bedroom.
It was the best spot in the house. Your bedroom have the best view of the front of the house, and was far enough from the prying ears of curious parents.
Neither you or Ellie were innocent teenagers—you both couldn’t wait to get some alone time, and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other once you started. It was the perfect place for late night shenanigans.
Again, some things never change, huh?
Strolling toward your door, Ellie raises her hand to give a soft knock. But she pauses at the faint sounds coming from under your door. Breathy whines, the light rocking of your old, rickety bed frame. Could she hear just how wet you were from outside your door?
She leaned closer to the brown door, her bottom lip slotting between her teeth. Ellie wanted to be sure she was hearing correctly, of course. She heard you cursing and swearing, but nothing shocked her more than when she heard you squeak her name. “Fuck, Ellie…”
Apparently, Ellie wasn’t the only one who was overcome. Wanton sounds filled her ears like a mantra before she decided to interfere. Knock, knock! She heard you gasp.
“It’s Ellie... Your parents are gonna throw bitch-fits in T-minus five minutes if you’re not downstairs soon.” Ellie kept herself composed, using her hand to hold her weight against the wall. She heard you shuffling behind your door, cursing under your breath.
“I’ll be down in, like, five minutes!” You shout, the sound of quick maneuvering being heard from Ellie’s side of the door.
She wanted you to open the door, just to get a glimpse of that blissed out look on your face—Ellie anticipated that flustered look. Forgetting about her own blushing cheeks after hearing you say her name while touching yourself. She felt like a fucking king.
Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked to the media space. Lifting up CDs, VHS tapes, and eyeing thick books that haven’t been touched in years to pass the time. Fuck, Ellie—still played in her mind like a record. There wasn’t any scratching, only smooth playing; no interruptions.
When you appeared from your room, dressed in your working cowboy boots, a long-sleeve Abercrombie shirt and bootcut jeans—there was a shit-eating grin that just wouldn’t leave her face. Ellie turned around to lay her eyes on you, unable to help but ogle. “Do you have a condition that you’re not mentioning? Perhaps, a tumor—? Since you can’t help yourself when it comes to laughing…” You grumble, placing your hands on your hips.
Your words only made her smile more. The more time the two of you spent together, the more snarky you were becoming—she missed that. “Turns out, under some circumstances… I can be a morning person. Some circumstances.” She muttered, mainly to herself but she didn't mind if you heard. Ellie deliberated with herself on whether she was going to expose what she heard you say… Or, if she was going to hold onto it. Similar to how victorians put the hair of their lover’s into lockets.
“Whatever, Els.” You rolled your eyes, loosely calling her by that nickname, again. Ignoring the harshness of her eyes, you passed her to descend the wooden stairs. There was still a mindless sleepiness to you. It was charming to your past lover, as she followed behind you—floating on air. Thinking about how great of an idea it was to come back this year.
And, still, Ellie was barely harbored with guilt. Even more so when she inspected your features, intently. When her thoughts wandered into the gutters of her creative mind—spreading you wide in all of your glory.
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taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher (i love your user lmao) , @maiaska
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mrsbarnesblog · 2 days ago
Text
one step at a time
masterlist
summary: after being rejected by you, the person who managed to catch Rafe's attention in a way no one else ever had, he goes spiraling into his addiction even more. you happened to be the only one who was able to pull him out of the turmoil in which he had buried himself in the last years.
words count: 6.5k
warnings: drug addiction, withdrawls, mutual pinning, angsty with happy ending
a/n: i've been writing and rewriting it since august and i still don't know whether i like the final result or not, so i'm ready for your feedback. aaaand happy new year to all of you, my precious followers. hope this one will bring you only the best💘
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You felt your skin getting hotter under the intense gaze of a particular guy who had been starring at you whenever you two were in the same room. The one who was present in your head all the time, no matter how hard you tried to get distracted and convince yourself that it was not the person that you needed in your life.
Rafe Cameron.
He was in a circle of his so-called friends, mostly not paying attention to them and instead watching you. You didn’t know when it started to happen—when the looks that you gave to each other started to get longer and more frequent, when your eyes started to search around the rooms until they found what they wanted, when the small talks that you had during official Kook’s events became so awkward and nervous.
Your fathers worked together for a few years, so you weren’t friends, more like acquaintances who occasionally attended the same galas and parties, where you usually ended up in the same circle of people. And who, well, might have developed a secret crush on each other. 
The thing is, you didn’t know why you felt that way. Rafe was certainly not the nicest person on the island, yet you didn’t have a real reason to hate him either. He was a menace; he was spoiled and thrived on attention from others. But Rafe was undeniably hot, so damn attractive without even trying, and you just wanted him. Your whole body was gravitating towards him, no matter how you tried to get this bullshit out of your head. 
Still, you knew for a fact that no matter how much even his presence in the room affected you, seeing him do countless and countless lines at every party pushed you away from him more than anything else ever could. You were not the one to ever judge people for their addictions, but seeing many times what drugs did to people, you didn’t want to deal with it at all. Remembering the first time you noticed it, the first time Sarah cried because of how her brother became so reckless and that she was scared for him, a shiever ran down your spine. 
You excused yourself and left from inside the house when the air became to thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat from people all around you and when your thoughts started to wander in the familiar direction. You found a semi-quiet space at the balcony on the second floor, but it didn’t take too long until someone else went there, as you heard footsteps approaching you. 
“What are you doing here alone?” You instantly turned around at the sound of Rafe’s smooth voice, only to catch him looking at you up and down with a gleam in his eyes. You heart raced, almost breaking out of your ribcage, while you tried to visibly not freak out.
“Nothing, just needed some fresh air.” You shrugged. “And why are you here?” 
“Honestly?” He chuckled, seemingly feeling nervous, as his right hand started rubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah, kinda wanted to talk to you alone for a long time.” He stepped closer, mostly looking at the floor and licking his lips. You didn’t know whether it was the chill air or the fact that Rafe’s presence had a weird influence on you, but you shivered. “You’re so pretty tonight, y’know? I mean, always. Thought I could ask you to hang out sometime. Like without shit tons of people around us?”
Your eyes followed the movements of his slightly trembling hands and the realization that he was high again made your heart sink. It were drugs speaking, you were sure that he wouldn’t have done it with a sober mind, so you just pursed your lips at the bitter feeling in your chest. 
Rafe was almost jittery, either from finally asking you out or the powder that was currently flooding his system — he didn’t even know that himself. He wanted to ask you out for ages, always thinking about the way you pulled his attention like a magnet, the way he craved you more with every passing day, but it seemed like there was never a good moment for that. 
“Rafe…” You breathed out his name, your eyes finally finding his. Pupils dilated, almost covering the pretty blue color, and the look so distant, weird, as if he wasn’t even fully there. “I can’t. This is wrong. I don’t want to do it like that.” 
“You-you’re looking at me. I know I’m not fucking crazy. You look at me the same way I look at you, don’t bullshit me, Y/N.” His eyes narrowed, his throat suddenly dry from the nerves and a hurting feeling of rejection. He stepped closer, which seemed like a way to intimidate you, but you weren't afraid of him, not even in this state of mind. 
“I’m not… denying it, okay? I like you, for some reason.” Your cheeks heated, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, but still looking up at him with seriousness and concern. “But I hate your lifestyle, Rafe. Say whatever you want, but this is not normal. You’re high even right now—I see it in your eyes. Will you even remember this party, me, our conversation the next morning?”
Was it anger that was bubbling inside of him right now? Or maybe agitation? Whatever it was, it hurt him deeply, more than he could admit. For the first time ever, Rafe actually, genuinely, became interested in someone, not with the intention of a meaningless hook up, but just because something was pulling him towards you. And, of course, he had to fuck everything up again with his dumb ass desicions. 
Who was he kidding, thinking that you wouldn’t care about the coke? You were possibly the sweetest person on the island, despite being a kook, and he had never even heard any rumors about you doing anything illegal. You were just the definition of a rich girl who enjoyed her perfect life on an island, hanging out with your friends, doing your hobbies, and never getting into trouble. 
Rafe just wanted to hit his head against the wall from the amount of mixed feelings and thoughts that his poor overstimulated mind was experiencing right now. 
“Rafe, please listen and understand what I say. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not even fully there. If the situation was different, I would’ve happily accepted it.” His attention was focused on the floor, but from the way his jaw was clenching while you were talking, you knew that he was listening. “These people are not your friends, because they let you do that and they do not care. You should stop destroying your mind and your body with drugs while you can.” 
You tried to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. 
“Yeah, I–I get it. See ya later.” He mumbled under his breath, not even looking at you.
“Rafe, wait! Rafe!” You tried to call out, but he was already gone, mixing in the croud of people in the main room.
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You pushed on the button on the doorbell for the third time, but it seemed like Cameron’s house was silent. Rafe’s truck was on the driveway, as was his red bike, so you knew that he must be home. 
After that talk with Rafe almost three weeks ago, you only heard about him and caught a few glimpses with his friends at Figure 8. People talked that he had gone even crazier than usual and that Shoupe arrested him twice. You were worried that it might be your fault, but just when you decided to catch Rafe the next time you see him, he vanished for the whole day. 
You had to call Sarah to ask what was wrong with her brother, making up a stupid excuse for your sudden interest, and the only thing that she told you was him not getting out of his room and acting weird.
Maybe it was a bad idea to come here uninvited when clearly no one else besides Rafe was home, or because you weren’t even that close, but it was too late to go back when you opened the front door and slowly went up the stairs to his room. 
You were in the house a few times already, when your families had their usual gatherings together, so you pretty much knew where you had to look for Rafe. You stopped in front of his door, unsure of your actions, but before you could run away like a child, your hand had already knocked on the door.
The soft groans and mumbling were heard inside, as well as the sound of the bedsheets and something falling on the floor. Your first thought about him having someone over there made your heart drop for a second, but another groan, almost painful, filled you with concern.  
“Get—get the fuck away, Sarah. T-told you a million fu-ucking times.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, and it seemed like he was trembling with the way it shaked. You heard cussing and more groans. He did not sound like himself with those strange pauses and unusual sounds, which made the level of your worry skyrocket. What if he was doing coke in there, or maybe something stronger? His ego must’ve gotten hurt because of your rejection, and now he was putting that shit up his nose again. 
“It’s not Sarah, Rafe. Open, please.” You rested your head on the door, listening to the complete silence after your words. He was thinking—you knew that. He was trying to figure something out, and the fact that you didn’t know what was exactly happening frightened you. "Fuck, are you doing it again? I won’t go until you open the door. Rafe, this is not funny!” 
You didn’t expect to see what was in front of you. As soon as the door opened, another version of Rafe was looking at you. He was barely standing straight, gripping the side of the door for dear life, shaking like a leaf and sweating. His face was pale, with almost white lips and bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 
You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, but stepped closer to take a hold of his face. He took something worse than cocaine. He’s high again. It’s bad. Your mind immediately went to a dark place, already feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. 
That’s when Rafe’s eyes met yours, and you froze in place. 
“You are clean.” You said, not asked, breathlessly. Tired, red, and slightly watery, but still clear, eyes looked right at you with a mixture of shame and relief. He licked his lips a few times, probably dehydrated, trying to stay focused on you despite feeling too sick to stand up straight. “Oh my god, Rafe, I thought—What's happening?” 
When he didn’t respond to you, with a new wave of confidence, you pushed him back into the darkness of the room, closing the door behind you and looking around. It was a mess, but no empty bottles, white powder, or random credit cards were seen, and you sighed with relief. 
Rafe was barely holding himself up. His body was fighting against him, craving that poisonous relief again. He swayed on his legs, suddenly feeling way too hot again, even though his skin was covered in goosebumps. It started to become more than he could handle, but another reminder that you were, in fact, right in front of him came in the form of your hands holding his face. 
Your soft eyes were searching for something in him while he tried to focus on your face. He thought that maybe he started hallucinating because, why else would you be there? Rafe leaned forward as his face curled in pain. You hummed in response, taking some of his body weight on yourself. Your hands stayed on his face, while his own trembling ones fell on your waist for some kind of support. 
At first, he thought that he was mad at you. After you rejected him, when he finally found power in himself to talk to you at that party, he was furious. He came back to his friends, immediately pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket and emptying it on the table in front of him. He inhaled more than he needed, hurt and angry from what you said to him. It blocked his mind for some time as everything around got muffled and blurry. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow, but his mind spun faster than he could keep up with. Every word you’d said echoed in his head, sharper and more painful each time.
It went on like that for some time, and at one point Rafe couldn’t even figure out what day it was. Everything was just a blur of parties, his coke buddies, and countless lines on every surface possible. It was bad, and at the back of his mind he knew that he was spiraling somewhere he wouldn’t be able to get out of, but then again, he had no one to try for. Ward didn’t care as long as Rafe didn’t cause any problems; his sisters gave him stares that he thought were either pity or disgust, as you... you weren’t there to fully see it all, so he did everything to prove God knows what, knowing damn well that it was hurt.  
The coke gave him fleeting moments of numbness, but it never lasted. The hurt always came back, heavier and sharper, gnawing at him when the highs faded and the quiet of his thoughts became unbearable.
It all was adding up, until one time Sarah caught him blacked out on the couch besides the pool. He still didn’t know whether it was a game of his mind or it happened actually, but he remembered her faint silhouette, sitting in front of him. She sounded like she was crying, but he wasn’t sure—too high to actually understand. What he remembers were her words, that surprisingly his mind was able to comprehend even in that state. “I thought you were gonna get better. I thought Y/N would be the one to pull you out of this.” Her voice cracked, a mix of sadness and disappointment that cut through the fog in his brain. “But look at you, Rafe. You’re worse than ever.”
Rafe’s vision blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the high or the emotion clawing its way to the surface. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt like lead. He hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, laid out in front of his sister like a broken mess.
“He cares about you, you know. She told me a long time ago how much she liked you. I know you do too. And you could’ve had it all if only you were able to get out of your own way.” Sarah said, her voice soft but edged with frustration. “But instead, you’re here, killing yourself slowly over something that you could fix. Or maybe you’re just too scared to try.”
“I’m not scared.” He gritted his teeth, groaning at the baanging noises in his head.
“Then prove it. Fix your life, Rafe. Until it’s too late.” 
He didn't remember what happened after that, but then he woke up with a more clear head, still confused and disoriented. Sarah’s words were hanging at the back of his head.
What was he even trying to prove? To you? To himself? He’d spent so much time running from the pain, from the rejection, from the fear that he hadn’t realized he was running in circles, destroying everything in his path.
Rafe stood shakily, gripping the back of the couch for support. His reflection in the sliding glass door caught his eye, and he barely recognized the person staring back. Bloodshot eyes, hollow cheeks, and a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. It was a version of himself he couldn’t stand to look at anymore.
He wasn’t sure where to start or if he even knew how to fix it, but he knew one thing: Sarah, once, was right. If he didn’t make a change now, it would be too late. Too late for you to ever see him as someone worth caring about again. Too late to prove to himself that he could be better.
Dragging a hand down his face, Rafe took a shaky breath. One step at a time, he thought, Sarah’s voice still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could do it. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, he wanted to try.
“It burns. I feel like my body is on fuckin’ fire. It’s in my veins. I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” Rafe’s eyes flattered, and his breathing became heavier as another wave of heat washed over him. “I don’t wanna take coke again, but shit—-“
“You can, Rafe. I know you can. You’re doing so well. You have to fight it just a little longer.” You ran your thumbs over his cheeks and realized that he was way too hot. “You need to cool off a little. Can you take a cold shower? Can you do that by yourself?” You slightly patted his cheek until his eyes focused back on yours.
“You actually came?” His voice was hesitant, almost fragile, and a sad smile touched your lips.
“I did. I’ll help you, okay?”
“Mhm… Stay here? Please.” He almost begged, leaning into your touch and licking his dry lips again. With your touch still lingering on his face, Rafe stumbled into his private bathroom while you decided to prepare everything for him. 
After politely rummaging through the room, you found new bed sheets to replace the old ones. Then you quickly aired the room, brought a couple water bottles from the kitchen downstairs, and turned on only one light to not disturb Rafe and his sensitive mind right now. 
As you were cleaning up, you got lost in your thoughts about what had happened in the past few weeks. From Rafe asking you out, then seemingly going crazy because of your rejection, and now his attempt to quit drugs. Not that you didn’t believe in him, but he was so stubborn, and with the amount of problems constantly surrounding him, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had just ignored you and continued living his own way. 
But you wanted him to get clean so badly because you hated the way coke was affecting him. You knew him for a pretty long time now, and you couldn’t miss the changes in his behavior after he started using. You wanted to see the real him, wanted to help him out, no matter how cliche it sounded. 
You hated that he was so careless about his own body and mind that he willingly put that shit up his nose again and again, thinking that it would change anything. You had feelings for Rafe, you did for a long time, no matter how many people openly said that he was a disaster and a big problem. One thing that you knew for sure was that if he really wanted to try, then you would support him. 
You heard the bathroom door creak open and turned to see Rafe leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, his damp hair falling into his eyes, his skin pale but no longer feverish. He wore a fresh pair of sweatpants, the towel he had used slung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and shame, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the care you were giving him.
“Hey.” You said softly, walking over to him. “You feeling any better?”
He nodded faintly, his eyes meeting yours. “A little.” He admitted, though his voice was hoarse. “Thanks for… all this.”
You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Rafe’s movements were a little slower than usual when he came closer to you, as if he craved your presence around him. “Just made you a fresh bed. I also brought some water because you’re probably dehydrated. You should try to fall asleep, and I’ll stay here if you want to.” You softly smiled, not missing the way his eyes were glued to your lips, as if he were trying to understand you better. 
“Yeah—shit, I mean okay.” Rafe started breathing heavily again, shaking his head to clear the fog and trying to stop his hands from shaking. 
In a few minutes, you managed to get you both into his bed, with you sitting against the headboard and Rafe’s head comfortably placed on the pillow on your lap. He was facing you, so you could see the way his eyes were flattering while he tried to control himself. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly, mindlessly running your hands through his long hair.
“Didn’t think that you would care about it, ‘cause you clearly said no to me.” He shrugged, while one of his hands sneaked under the pillow on your legs and touched your thigh. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but it gave Rafe some kind of comfort.
“I care about you. You are my friend.”
“I don’t wanna be your friend, Y/N.” 
You shook your head at his stubbornness, sliding your fingers down the side of his face. “I know, but we are. At least for now.” Rafe scoffed, tightening the grip on your thigh and trembling as another wave of chills washed over his body. “Sh-h. Remember, I didn’t say ‘no’. I said that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not fully here. It would be unfair for both of us. So now you have to get better, and then we’ll work from there.” His tired eyes met yours as if he were trying to understand whether you were serious or not. “When was the last time you used anything?”
“Yesterday morning.” 
“Mhm, so it’s your second day already. That’s amazing, Ray.” 
Rafe just hummed in response, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. You made him drink some water, trying to convince him that his body needed to get rid of the toxins, and one of the best ways to do it was by drinking a lot of fluids. He was surprisingly obedient, just going back to his previous position with one hand on your leg and facing you. 
You two settled into a comfortable silence, both too lost in your own heads and thoughts. 
Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave your face. No matter how hard it was for him to focus, he studied your features that were perfectly illuminated by the small lamp. He looked at you countless times, always sneaking glances when no one would notice, but right now he thought that you looked the most beautiful. With a soft smile and eyes and slightly messy hair. 
Your hand that was brushing through his dump hair and then touching his face like a feather was almost too good to be true, making Rafe almost forget about the poisonous cravings and unusual reactions of his body. You, you, you—were the only thing on his mind. It was soothing and peaceful. It was calming the storm in his head, so Rafe didn’t want this moment to ever end. 
You mindlessly traced lines on Rafe’s face, just admiring the way he seemed to be calm and relaxed, as much as it was possible in his condition, and how it differentiated from the way he had always acted. Maybe it was stupid on your part to get closer with Rafe so easily, because, let’s face it, he could go back to his habits as soon as you stepped out of the house. Everyone around you constantly talked about him being the type of person who would never change to please somebody and who would never put his pride aside. 
But no matter how hard you tried, the boy in front of you, the one who looked at you with trust and unusual softness, made your heart beat faster. Your body and mind were screaming that you did the right thing and that he was worth saving, so you couldn’t just walk away and pretend to feel nothing. 
As you watched his eyes start to flutter with sleepiness, your own hands slowed down. With the wave of comfort that his company and the atmosphere of the room had brought you, you didn’t notice how you fell asleep. 
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The next few days were rough for both of you, with Rafe trying to pull his shit together and not give up and with you trying to be as helpful as possible. He struggled a lot. You saw that pretty clearly, but what you also saw was how actually strong Rafe was and how determined he became to get through it. 
It was underestimating to say that your help and support meant everything to him. Your words of encouragement, your genuine kindness and willingness to help, your visits and time that you spend in his room—it all made it seem like the efforts were not worthless and that there was a reason to fight. 
After almost a week since the day you first fell asleep in Rafe’s bed, your relationship started progressing rapidly. You started actually getting to know each other, and countless text messages and phone calls were proof of that. 
He was feeling much better; the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had passed, and the fog in his mind started to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and there were moments where he felt overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had to face, but he was getting there. You could see it in the way he started to smile more often and how his voice had grown steadier on the phone; he became calmer and wasn’t always on the edge of snapping. 
Your attraction to Rafe grew rapidly whenever you saw the real version of him, the one that was soft and caring, brought up to the surface—the one that had been buried beneath layers of anger, frustration, and his addiction. The version of him that you knew had always been there but had been clouded for so long. It was these moments, the quiet ones when he was relaxed and open, when his vulnerability came through, that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.
Sitting on the porch at your house, you thought about Rafe and your time together, and your tummy fluttered with anticipation for what was yet to come. You saw that longing look in Rafe's eyes, and you weren’t one bit surprised because that night he clearly said that your friendship was not enough for him, but you hoped to move slowly. 
Even if your breath always hitched whenever he stepped closer or lowered himself to say something to you. 
Even if your heart skipped a bit whenever you saw a message with his name next to it. 
A notification from your phone brought you back to the present, and as soon as you saw Rafe’s text, you proved yourself right. Your heart skipped a beat again as a shy smile touched your lips. 
Café near the beach? My treat. I have something to show you
k, i’ll be there in fifteen
When you got out of the taxi, your eyes scanned the people sitting in the open area under the light of the setting sun, but you didn’t see one particular guy who started messing with your head in the best way possible. 
That was until you saw someone turning their head back, as if they sensed you standing there, and your mouth fell open in shock. 
You came closer as Rafe stood up from his chair with a smug look on his face, but your eyes were too hungry, taking him in, to even try to be respectful. 
“Your hair! Oh god, Rafe! How—why—when?" Your hand reached out to touch his freshly buzzed hair, rubbing it back and forth. 
“Texted you as soon as I finished. Just wanted to get rid of the past, y’know.” He shrugged, soft eyes studying your face that was way closer while you inspected his new haircut. “Don’t you like it?”
“It’s hot—I mean, you look hot. It suits you.” You stepped back, looking up and down, trying to memorize a new image. Rafe did look hotter. You suddenly noticed his sharp jawline, strong neck, and shoulders. Damn, he looked bigger. He looked healthier. With that spark in his blue eyes, smoothed, tan skin, and muscles... Oh god, you felt your face getting hotter as your eyes lingered on his arms way too long. 
How the hell did you miss his sudden transformation from being a frat guy to a rich golden boy? Was it the effect of his quitting drugs and finally drifting apart with his previous lifestyle and friends?
“It definitely does. Though I'll miss playing with them.” You mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy under his gaze.
“You think I look hot, hm?” He teased, placing a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back.
Touchy, but never overstepping. 
“Don’t you know that already?” You bit your lip to hold back a smile, placing your hands on Rafe’s upper arms and looking up through your lashes. You both felt that sudden tickling feeling running through your veins at the eye contact, and it made you both start smiling without any words being said. 
“A’ight, I think we should go get something to eat.” 
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You were going around the people who flooded the beach house that you were currently in. With you constantly spending time with Rafe, your friends almost begged you to the party, only to leave you almost instantly as they got too interested in the experience of alcohol. Not that you were too upset about it, because you still asked Rafe to come with you, and he was more than happy to do anything for you. 
The music was too loud in the main room, and you went through the back door to an open yard that led right to the beach and was still full of drunk people, but at least there was some fresh air, and Rafe had already been waiting for you on the bench near the big wooden table with lots of drinks. 
You left him just for a few minutes just to use a bathroom, but when you stepped outside, you saw him talking to a guy that you had only seen around when Rafe was doing drugs. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of their obviously not so calm conversation, and you rushed closer to know what was happening. 
“Rare? What’s going on?” You stepped beside him, brushing your hand against his stiff back. “What do you want from him?” You pointed a finger at the guy whose name you didn’t bother to remember, and he just snickered back at you. 
“Nothing. It’s alright, sweetheart.” 
“Quit being a pussy, man. I have the best shit with me today. You’ll get high as a kite.” The guy completely ignored you, only looking at Rafe. You could physically feel the anxiety washing over you at the thought of it happening again, of Rafe just walking away with him right now and leaving you here alone. 
You tugged at his arm, trying to catch his attention. “Rafe, you promised. We should go now, please.” He looked back at you, nodding without hesitation and catching your hand to interlace your fingers. 
“Told you that I quit it. Go chase someone else, Hugh.” 
“Because of this bitch?” The moment this word left his mouth, Rafe’s hands gripped the front of Hugh’s t-shirt, backing him against the table and knocking over a few bottles. 
“Call her a bitch one more fucking time and I’ll knock off your teeth.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, as Rafe was seething with anger, without a doubt meaning what he just said. 
You tugged gently on his arm again, trying to ease the situation. “Rafe, let’s just go, please.” You urged, your voice soft but firm, hoping to ground him before things escalated any further.
Rafe’s breath was heavy, his grip on Hugh’s shirt still tight, but his eyes were fixed on you now, softening at your touch. Slowly, he released Hugh, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, we’re done here.” Rafe muttered, his voice low and controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You guided him away from the curious people, who were already whispering about the unfolded scene.
You sat on a wooden bench under a giant tree, with your legs thrown over Rafe’s and almost no distance between you two. It happened so instantly, so naturally, that none of you even thought about it. Rafe had his warm hands laying on your thighs and knees and rubbing your exposed skin in small circles, keeping his eyes down.
A silence lingered between the two of you, and while Rafe was too lost in his head, you took your time to admire him. You spent so much time together over the past month, not because you felt obliged to, but because it was simply amazing. Underneath all of those layers, you found real Rafe, the one who was teasing, who was funny, and the one who was super protective and incredibly caring.
You had never expected to be absolutely down for a man like him, but he was getting so much better with every passing day, never giving you a reason to doubt his intentions. Of course you didn’t forget Rafe’s words about him wanting to be more than your friend, and it lingered over your head every time you caught him staring at you. Though he had never rushed anything, wanting to have that natural bond between you grow stronger and only showing his hidden desires with glances full of admiration and with careful touches. 
Rafe’s head suddenly shot up, eyes clear yet narrowed. He smirked, seeing you already looking at him and subconsciously tightening his hold on your leg. He held eye contact for a few seconds, making a smile tug at your lips before he looked away, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. 
“What?” You half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy. 
“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” You tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold back a smile, but miserably fail when he moves a tiny bit closer and all you can see, feel, and smell is him. “You’re like— I’m— Fuck, you made me stutter like a damn middle schooler…” He was completely infatuated by you, barely able to handle his violently beating heart.  
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and full of affection. The way Rafe was fumbling with his words, clearly flustered, made you feel something deep in your chest—a flutter that wasn’t just attraction but something more vulnerable, something you hadn’t expected to feel when you first started spending time together.
“Rafe…” You whispered, leaning in just a little, your voice low and teasing. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”
His eyes darkened slightly at your words, the smirk on his lips turning into something more sincere, more tender. He took a deep breath, shifting so he was closer, his chest nearly touching yours. His fingers slowly and carefully traced the edge of your skirt, and the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips made the air feel thick with tension.
“Don’t do that.” He said softly, his voice a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’m trying not to make this harder for myself.”
“Trying?” You raised an eyebrow, your teasing smile not leaving your lips. You knew exactly what you were doing, enjoying every second of his reaction. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.”
Rafe exhaled sharply, his hand now resting on your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly as if he were trying to steady himself. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and erratic. He leaned forward just enough to close the space between your faces, his lips hovering over yours, but not touching. The energy in the air around you suddenly shifted, and you raised your hand to his neck to pull him even closer.
“I don’t want to rush this.” Rafe murmured, his voice low and serious, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “But god… you make it so damn hard to hold back.”
You could feel his heart beating against yours, the rhythm erratic but strong. You didn’t speak for a moment, simply breathing with him, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.
“You don’t have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” You said softly, your voice almost a promise.
And with that, the tension seemed to snap, the silent understanding between you both growing stronger. He finally closed the space between you, his lips pressing gently against yours, tentative at first, as if he were still unsure but desperate to feel you. And as the kiss deepened, as he pulled you closer to his body, you were completely lost. 
The kiss deepened further, his tongue gently coaxing yours into a slow dance. He was lost in you, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade away. The way you responded, so naturally, so eagerly, only fueled his desire. Rafe’s grip on you tightened, pulling you onto his lap, your bodies fully pressed together now, the heat of his body seeping into yours.
When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushed against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. He looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than just desire—there was a tenderness, raw and vulnerable, something that had been buried beneath the walls he’d built around himself.
"Thank you." Rafe breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here. For helping me... through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without you."
You smiled softly, licking your lips before speaking. “You don’t have to thank me. You should be proud of yourself for being able to do that.” You traced your fingers down the side of his face. “Just promise me you won’t stop trying if something hard happens, okay? You have me, and you have your sixers who care about you too.”
“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” Turning his head to the side to place a kiss on the palm of your hand that lingered on his face, Rafe pulled your body closer to him. There was still a lot to work on, but hidden away from other people, you finally savoured a quiet moment between you two, and for the first time, there was nothing but peace and warmth in both of your hearts. 
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fayecreates · 3 days ago
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Naked in Manhattan
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A/N: pls send requests, i need them for my shitty trip. (A little update 2 days later) im gonna cry my eyes out if i have to stay her for any longer.
Premise: Teen!Vi x teen!reader, being unlikely friends, having a sleepover together and that leads to a bit of silly stuff (NOTHING WEIRD JUST KISSING)
Warnings: uh kissing? Idk, dont read this if you’re like 30 cuz thats a little weird. Probably a wrong description of friday the 13th, i watched it like 5 years ago so idk all i know is theres a sex scene at the start.
Words: 1,481
To put it simply, you were a weird kid. From 1st grade to now you didnt have many friends. It wasnt horrible, it was honestly pretty nice. Less drama to worry about and more time to get your homework done so you can do whatever you want. That was until you met Vi.
She was a pretty sociable person, not like happy to talk constantly, just unafraid of interaction. You both sat by each other during biology, it came to you easily but with Vi it took a little more time… after a while she started to ask for your help. It was never a demand to do her homework, and you could tell that she was really struggling. It started with a few short explanations, to a few short conversations about the shitty teacher, to plans to hang out afterschool. It was all so fast for you, was this even how friendships started? Either way it was fine, not like you could call it off when you’re 5 minutes away from her house.
Your heart raced at the thought of even being in her house. Was it weird to dress up for this? Were your pajamas appropriate? What would her house look like? You sat in the backseat of the car, gripping onto the strap of your bag for dear life, contemplating if it was even normal to be this nervous. I mean you were acting like you were going on your first date, and it’d be weird to date another girl, right? I mean Vi was pretty but wasn’t in a romantic way, maybe… your racing thoughts were cut off by the sudden stop of the car. You quickly got out, making sure you had all your stuff on you.
After talking to Vi’s dad Vander for a little, you sat on the floor of Vi’s bedroom, looking around like you about escape. She had a few posters, most of some boxers you didn’t know and some rock bands you also didn’t know. Her room was messy but you can see that she attempted to clean up a bit. It was a little after 9pm, Vi was talking to her dad about watching some movies on the TV. A part of you wanted to beg to be picked up and the other wanted to stay forever.
“Alright, you up to watch some horror movies?” Vi said with a smirk on her face, holding up a few CDs of shitty shock value horror. You smiled, standing up and walking quickly to living room together.
You both sat on the couch together, a space between the two of you. “Okay… Friday the 13th or Hellraiser?” She asked with a daring look on her face as she held both them up. You pointed to Friday the 13th, i mean you’ve heard about it more so it couldn’t be that bad, right? Vander was out going to the store, and Powder was out for the night by now. Vi put the CD in and you both sat watching. Maybe you spent a little too much time caring about if your posture was bad or if you should hold something, but as soon as the opening scene came on you didn’t know how to act. Seeing the people move in such a manner to mimic sex, you knew it was probably not real but it made you blush a bit. As you listened to the faux moans, you felt weird. You imagined yourself as the girl for a minute, it wasn’t too enjoyable compared to imagining the both of you there. But you wouldn’t do that with Vi, that would be weird, right. Safe to say you stayed silent for the rest of the movie, barely even getting scared if you excuse jumping a few times.
After it had ended you sort of just spaced out. Vi took a notice of that, assuming you were just scared or something. “…you wanna watch something easier?” She said after a second of silence, you just nodded. She quickly got up to look through CDs again, finally landing on Mean Girls to cleanse your palate. Putting in and watching felt a bit better. You both made fun of them and laughed with each other, it was weirdly bonding. The clock hit 11pm, you guys were a bit closer on the couch. You looked to Vi at a funny part, seeing if she would laugh, you didn’t know why seeing her smile made your heart race. Your eyes met and she smiled at just you, but you felt like you were caught stealing something so you quickly looked away.
The movie ended and Vander came back, telling you both to go to bed. You both obliged, even though you shared a small look, knowing you’d stay up until you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You both sat on the floor of Vi’s bedroom, attempting to think of something to do. “Maybe we could play truth or dare?” You ask, it was stereotypical but it was a fun game, theoretically. Vi lit up, like it was the idea of a century. “I’ll start, truth or dare?” Vi said with a smile, holding her pillow in her lap. “Truth?” You were bit unsure, still anxious if all your actions were okay. “Okay… who’s your celebrity crush?” Vi asks with the same smile plastered on her face. You thought long and hard, you couldn’t say some like Kristen Stewart or any other girl, that would make it so tense. “…uh… whoever the actor is for Elvira…” you say, hesitant but you couldn’t lie. Lying would be worse than making it awkward. She looked a bit shocked. “Really? You like girls?” She says like it just unexpected rather than weird. “I dont know… i mean probably.” You say, trying to push off the topic, it wasn’t something for you to decide right now, or you just told yourself that. It was silent and awkward for a moment, well for you. You forgot it was your turn. “Oh, truth or dare?” You say quickly, attempting to completely forget, or at least think of a way to give yourself short term memory loss. “Truth.” She says, her smile still unmoving. “Uh… have you ever dated someone?” You ask, a little hesitant. The warm light of a lamp illuminated Vi’s face, it was covered in scars but it was pretty to you. “No, datings for losers.” She says with a laugh, it was unexpected though. Someone so nice, so pretty, i mean you would totally date her— never mind. “Truth or dare.” Vi says, her voice daring. You couldn’t pick truth again, it’d a pussy move. “Dare.” You said with a surge of confidence. It was a moment of silence as Vi contemplated what dare to give her.
“I dare you to kiss me.” Vi says with a smirk, like she knew you wouldn’t do it. Your face became hot as can be. You froze for a minute, it was so weird to even think about doing that with any girl, let alone Vi. You didn’t know if it was a sudden rush of adrenaline or what, all that you did know was the feeling of Vi’s lips pressed against yours. You held the side of her cheek, as if she would leave if you let go. Vi was surprised, well that was before she responded with ten times the amount of force in the kiss. Almost straight up knocking you down, her hands falling to your shoulder and your waist. After a minute that felt way too long, she broke the kiss. Your insides felt crazy, you had never felt like this ever. Her smile was so wide as she stared into your eyes, your own expression just being plain shocked.
“…was that too much?” Vi asked, you shook your head maybe a bit too much. You started to smile, the warm feeling growing in your stomach. With only the smallest bit of hesitance she kissed you once more, well it was more like a hundred small kisses, but it lasted forever. Her hand that was planted on your waist gently moved upwards onto your ribcage, feeling your heart race. On the other hand, yours were stuck like they were weighed down with concrete. It was awkward, intense as well, she prodded her tongue onto your lips just a bit, as if asking for entrance. You separate your lips a smidge, her tongue quickly entering. It was awkward, you let out a few weird noises, she almost passed out from lack of oxygen. After breaking the kiss, you both sat there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do next.
“Uh… that was nice…” Vi says with a flushed face and a dorky smile. You nodded, you had never once expected to make out with anyone, let alone a girl. It was nice, very nice.
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myfootyrthroat · 2 days ago
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I just saw a reddit advice post where someone was asking how to deal with being ghosted. In the comments it turned out that mid-December she had told the guy "I won't have time to talk to you until after New Years", had not reached out to him at all for 2 weeks, and then on January 2nd wanted advice on being ghosted. (When people were like... it's after the new year: just say hi, she was like "At this point I'm too angry about him ghosting me to speak with him.")
Nobody here was ghosted! You are just two people who aren't talking to each other! And you could just... talk to each other!
every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first
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lowkeyerror · 1 day ago
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Congrats on Your Divorce
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 4.1k
Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus
Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.
An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.
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You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.
Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.
She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.
When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.
“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.
“What are you talking about?”
They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”
You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.
“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.
She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”
It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.
“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”
She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”
You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."
She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”
“Oh, congratulations.”
Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”
You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”
“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.
“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.
“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.
You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”
She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”
Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.
She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”
You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”
Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”
“Sounds perfect.”
From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.
The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.
You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.
“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”
She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”
She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.
Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”
“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.
You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.
You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.
You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.
“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.
“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.
“It’s drowsy.”
You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”
Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”
You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”
“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”
You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.
Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.
“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.
“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.
You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”
Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”
You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”
“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.
“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.
Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”
You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”
That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”
While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.
“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."
The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.
“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.
“Are you sure? I can help-"
You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.
“I’ve got it.”
She listens to your directions and takes a seat
She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.
“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”
You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”
She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”
“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”
Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.
“Do you like children, Y/n?”
“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”
Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”
You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”
Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”
You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”
Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”
“Language, there are children present.”
Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."
“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”
She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.
“It smells delicious.”
You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life
“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.
She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.
“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.
“I hope the boys think so too.”
Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”
True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.
It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.
When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.
She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.
“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.
“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.
Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”
“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.
Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”
You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”
“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.
You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.
“Oh really?”
She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.
“And if they were?”
“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”
“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.
You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”
“I’d like that.”
That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.
Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"
You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”
“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”
You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”
“Are you sure?”
It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."
From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.
Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.
You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.
It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.
At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.
The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”
She looks up, “Yes, detka.”
“How attached are you to your house?”
Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”
You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”
Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”
You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”
“You want to buy a house?”
You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”
Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”
“Really?”
Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”
“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.
“I love you too.”
Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.
You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.
“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.
She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.
Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.
You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.
“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.
Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.
“ I need you,” she whispers.
You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.
You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.
“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.
You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.
You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.
“All for me baby?”
You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”
“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.
She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.
Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.
“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.
You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.
Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.
You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.
“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.
She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”
You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”
Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.
Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.
“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”
You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.
“I love you.”
You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”
Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.
“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.
“Wanda-"
She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”
Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.
There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.
Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”
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httpscameron · 1 day ago
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roommate!simon
it started because you needed a place to stay. you had went to secondary school together and even then you didnt really speak all to much but you werent a bully to him so you were one of the nicer people there. he lets you stay. he pays for everything except for groceries because hes never there half the time, due to deployment.
his apartment is cold, its not decorated it all white with basic hardwood floor. he has a singular sofa and a tv mounted to the wall. it looks like no one even lives there its unlived in.
he gave you the master bedroom, it was out of kindness and mainly because you have alot of stuff. like more than any person should need but still. he helps you settle in and put all your stuff in.
the first few weeks were awkward, bumping into each other in the kitchen, sitting in the living room in silence except from ‘do you want the remote?’. very awkward.
when you came home one day he had his friends over and for once he seemed lively. you gave a soft smile and just headed to your bedroom for the night keeping out of the way. but you could hear the men, its not like they were extremely quiet; talking about how hot you were, simon put an end to that conversation.
roommate simon obviously has the biggest infatuation on you, he likes the way you slowly decorate the apartment, adding magnents to fridge or buying colourful coasters.
the two of you came into a casual friendship which then turned into long nights of helping each other with your needs… before dating.
masterlist
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wqlfstqr · 2 days ago
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◟𖥻 ♡⃕ the moment i knew : percy jackson
▰▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader
y/n keeps pouring her heart into her relationship with percy, only to end up feeling like he doesn’t give back the same effort
author: this is just a mix of every depressing song i've been hearing for the past days, so i'll just apologize in advance.
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Dating Percy Jackson was hard, she always knew it would be. But it couldn't be impossible, not if they loved each other enough to fight for each other everytime. That's what she thought.
And oh- she should've known better, she should've noticed the change. the signs were there. And maybe, she had realized, but she just loved him that she just chose to ignore it. time and time again. ignore the way he was always late, ignore how she was always the one planning dates and him just going along with anything, ignore how he never seemed to pay attention when she was talking.
Ignore how he made her feel like she was just another thing to check off his list of responsabilities.
At first, she just dismissed it because she thought it was him being too overwhelmed with every resposability he was bearing with at camp. She was sure that he just had too much on his plate, but once he was able, he would make time for her and go back to what he used to be.
She still remembered how loving and caring he used to be, because a small part of her still had some hope of him going back to that. It wouldn't be hard, because he loved her, right?
He loved her. He used to bring her flowers, and surprise her with picnics. He used to remember everything about her, her favorite books and her favorite songs by heart. He loved cuddling with her on cold days, and walking down the beach on sunny days.
Now, it felt like that part of him was slowly slipping away and she couldn't do anything but just stand there, waiting for the crash that was bound to happen.
And it was getting harder to ignore everytime she made an effort, only to be met with disappointment.
Sitting at a table at night, tugging on her dress and slightly shivering from being cold. But she didn’t care about it, she was too distracted looking at the candles she’d painstakingly arranged, their warm glow casting long shadows across the lonely table. The food was cold now, untouched.
She'd planned this for weeks, choosing the perfect spot and decoration, being overly excited to have a moment to just be percy and y/n, just two people who loved each other. And he had promised that he'd be there.
"y/n?" a familiar voice broke her from her thoughts.
She looked up, a small flicker of hope blooming in her chest, but it quickly faded when she saw Grover instead of Percy.
And he looked uncomfortable, clearly dreading that he had to be the bearer of bad news. y/n knew what was coming before he even spoke. "he's with Chiron, there's some issues with the new campers." he said hesitantly. "but he said he'd come here as soon as he can!"
She forced a smile, waving him off. “It’s okay, Grover. Thanks for letting me know.”
As Grover left, her smile dropped. She stared down at the now-cold plate in front of her, her appetite gone. She leaned and blew the candles, knowing that there was no reason to wait for Percy.
She understood it, really. Percy was busy. Percy was important. Percy was needed. But for one more time, she just wished that he could see that she also needed him.
When he saw her the next day, he didn’t bring it up, so she acted like everything was okay. She just couldn't bring herself to waste the time she had with him for a meaningless fight, so she just enjoyed his company, thinking that he was enjoying hers as well.
She was laying on his bed, he was sitting with his back against the headboard, his hand going through her hair in a soothing manner while she spoke excited. "it's so fascinating, Percy! the way the author describes the characters. And there's this one quote 'even the strongest love can wilt without care' and it made me think that relationships-"
She trailed off when she realized Percy wasn't looking at her. His eyes were fixed on Riptide, he was holding the pen between the fingers of his free hand, and he didn’t even look like he he was paying attention.
Her heart sank, and she fell silent, the excitement draining out of her. She waited a moment, hoping he’d realize that she had stopped talking, but he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded absently and muttered "That’s nice."
y/n forced a smile, once again trying to ignore the sting. She couldn't bring herself to blame him, maybe he was tired or maybe he had too much to think about. Either way, she didn’t keep on talking as she silently went back to her book.
Later that day, the book came again into the conversation, but not because she brought it up. He was helping her carry some things to her cabin when his gaze fell on the book of his hands. "Hey, you didn’t tell me you were reading a new book."
Suddenly, the book felt too heavy, pressing uncomfortably against her arms. "I did tell you." she replied quietly, trying hard to hide her disappointment.
Percy furrowed his brow. "You did? Huh. I must’ve... I don’t know, I guess I forgot." He gave a sheepish laugh, as if that would lighten the moment.
She lowered her gaze to the ground, her chest tightening. How could she mean so little to him that he couldn't even remember something she had told him hours ago?
And she still didn’t say anything about it, because she felt like it was stupid to even bring it up. Maybe she was overreacting and she didn’t want to make Percy feel guilty about it.
Sometimes, she saw glimpses of the old Percy back. When he sneaked on her bed after a long day just to rest with her because he missed her, when he kissed her goodbye once he was called over to help with something, when he hugged and lifted her up when he was happy or when he asked her questions about something she was excited.
They were okay. She had been sure they were okay.
Now she was spending the night of her birthday sitting by herself on the strawberry fields, the faint scent of fresh berries filling the air. She picked at the grass absentmindedly, the weight in her chest growing as she, once again, let her thoughts wander back to him.
She was suddenly brought back to his birthday, months ago she had spent weeks planning Percy's birthday. She had made sure she had the perfect gift, she baked his favorite cupcakes and organized a surprise party with his friends.
And when Percy walked into the pavillion, his smile made it worth it. The whole night, he stayed by her side, holding her close, stealing kisses, sharing stories with her and making sure to thank her every moment he could.
She had been so excited for her birthday. She loved birthdays. And now, here she was. Alone. Forgotten. Realizing just how wrong she had been by thinking that everything was okay.
Percy had only stopped by her cabin in the morning to hand her a gift and apologize. "Sorry, I couldn’t do much. Chiron needs me to lead a meeting about patrol schedules." Then, after a quick kiss on her forehead, he was gone.
He didn’t even wait for her to open the small box, but it was good he didn’t, because he would've seen the disappointment on her face when she opened the small box and found a bracelet. It was pretty, sure, but not her style at all. There wasn't even a birthday card inside.
Now the bracelet pressed uncomfortably against her skin as she stared at it with tears gathering on her eyes, waiting for him to show up. He would show up, right?
But he didn’t. He didn’t surprise her. He didn’t show up. And she stayed there, sitting by the fields with her heart feeling heavy in her chest because that was the moment she knew.
She had fought for him, everyday she had fought for even a tiny bit of his attention. For so long, she had convinced herself that the glimpses of the old Percy were enough to keep her happy. But she couldn't keep doing that. She couldn't keep on being the only one fighting for a relationship that wasn't working. She was tired. And he didn’t even see it.
Her mind replayed the happy moments of their relationship, each memory tinged with a growing sadness. She thought about the way he used to look at her like she was his entire world and how now, his gaze rarely lingered. The way he used to laugh with her, hold her hand, and remember the little things: her favorite flower, her favorite song, her favorite way to spend a lazy afternoon.
All of that gone.
What had she done wrong? why had he stopped loving her? wasn't she deserving of the same love she gave to him?
Tears streamed silently down her face as the truth settled in her chest like a weight she couldn’t lift. He had lost her, and the worst part was that she wasn't even sure that he would care about it.
The next day, she was just grateful enough that it was time for campers to go back to their houses for the school year. She had already packed her stuff, and the only thing left to do was the one she was dreading the most.
When she slipped into Percy's cabin, he wasn't there. Of course he wasn't, he was probably busy somewhere around camp. It was better this way, she tried to convince herself once she placed the letter on his pillow before she left.
Percy's morning had been filled with things he needed to finish before he had to leave. When he finally had a moment for himself, he went directly to his cabin because he had to pack his things and then go help y/n with her bags.
But what he found when he was packing his things was a letter placed neatly on his pillow, at first he thought maybe it was some cheesy way for y/n to say goodbye. But once he opened it and finally read it, his whole world stopped for just a moment before he was bolting out of the door.
He was able to find her just as she was leaving her cabin, her bags on her hand. She stopped right on her tracks once her eyes fell on him, and that dreadful feeling settled once again in her stomach. She had hoped that she would avoid this, but one small part of her already knew this was coming.
Percy stopped in front of her, the letter crumbled in his hand. "You were just break up with me through a letter and leave?” he asked, his voice breaking. "you weren’t even going to say anything to me?"
y/n dropped her bags only to cross her arms protectively against her chest. "to be fair, I didn’t think you'd notice if I left." she replied softly, her words laced with quiet pain.
He opened his mouth to defend himself, but he wasn't able to find the words. "That's not fair."
"you know what isn't fair, Percy?" she replied, her voice weak. "I have spent months giving you my every moment, hoping for at least some kind of love back, and every single time, you've shown me that i'm not a priority in your life. That's what's not fair."
Percy opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. "I've made you my world, Percy, Do you even realize how much I’ve waited and hoped that you’d start putting even a fraction of the effort I have into this relationship? just for you to show again and again that you don't care."
"Of course I care!" Percy replied, desperation laced on his voice. "I love you, how could I not care? i've always loved you"
She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "Loving someone isn't always enough Percy, maybe you do love me." she had to pause to take a deep breath. "but that doesn’t mean I feel loved by you. I need someone who’s going to show up for me, who’s going to fight for me the way I’ve been fighting for you. And you've already shown me that you can't be that person"
"I can!" He insisted, taking a step closer. "We'll work on it, I know I can, just don't go before we can fix this, please."
y/n wanted to believe he could change, she wanted to go back to being that girl who ignored his indifference and lived happy everytime she got a tiny bit of attention. She was so close to just falling into his arms once again, but then she thought back on having to spend her birthday alone, crying, wondering why he couldn't love her the right way. And she couldn't just go back to that.
She stared at him, feeling how her heart broke all over again. "It's too late, Percy. I can't fight for you anymore, i'm exhausted"
"Please" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Goodbye, Percy." she mumbled taking her bags again to finally walk away from him, her heart feeling heavy in her chest.
It hurt. But she knew she couldn't keep on begging just to end up being a footnote in the story of his life.
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lady-of-endless · 1 day ago
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Seong Gi-hun (player 456) x player!reaader headcanons (season 2)
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Author's Note: I woke up with notes on my other Gi-hun post and watched season 2, got hooked again, and decided to write this. I hope you'll enjoy it! Click here for a masterlist because there's more to come.
- The innocence from the first game is lost once and for all. He's unintentionally less approachable now, always stoic, always tense. After the first game, some thought he was either crazy or suspicious. Your gratitude for his help during the first game surpassed any way you pictured him before. So you decide to keep an eye on him.
- Gi-hun is too focused on the game system and guards to notice you studying him from time to time. He's both amazed and worried about how different the players are from the first time he was there. But if there's one thing that remains the same, it's the sudden greed when the prize is getting higher with each elimination.
- But he doesn't see that in you. After the first game, you understood the gravity of the situation and forgot about the money. The moment the piggy fills with money and everyone is in awe except for him, you look around and your eyes lock with his. He finally notices you then and there. Why? Because you're the only one not looking at the money anymore.
- The second time he will notice you is when you won't eat well because of all the stress and shock. Gi-Hun silently approaches you, sits next to you, and calmly explains how you must eat to have energy for the next game. Despite his stoic tone, you can see worry in his eyes.
- During one night, when he is the only one awake to watch around, you join him in silence. That's when you start opening up to him more. He wasn't expecting it at all.
- He will never judge your reasoning for entering this wicked game. Gi-hun will just listen and try to show understanding.
- Since then, you stayed close to him. He didn't mind it at all. Plus, his mind was already busy with plans and possibilities to save as many as he could.
- You'd think that he might've developed trust issues but his heart didn't allow that. Not when he got attached so fast. You were always there to support him or help him find the right words to convince other players to stop the game from continuing. Slowly, you become something like his confidant even if he forced himself to be cautious around other players.
- When he opens up to you, he opens up about his experience first. He's done it before, telling people what he went through with this damned game but no one asked him how he feels after everything, except for you. He's stunned. It feels like you somehow made your way inside and he's powerless, he can't do anything about it,
- His hands twitch and his body tenses every time you risk getting hurt. He's not even aware of how ready he is to rush to you and help if you need it. But the others are aware. Some will notice how you two simply gravitate closer to each other. Watch out for a jealous-looking Hwang In-ho (player 001).
- Seon-Nyeo (player 044) talked to you two about how you are doomed because of a curse and other scary spiritual details, the way she does with everyone. Gi-hun was unfazed but his eyes softened when he saw you a little bit worried and disturbed. He comforted you, put a hand on your shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze with a half smile (it's still hard for him to smile again, but he'll do it for you).
- He promises you that he'll get you safe out of there, every day and every night.
- Whatever you two will have, he will insist on being kept secret so you won't be in any additional danger because of him.
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abbyzins · 3 days ago
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microfic inspired by an interaction with me and my bf today
"Feelin' alright, love?" Soaps hands brushed across broad shoulders, squeezing gently as he kissed Ghost's head, patiently waiting for a response.
He could tell Ghost was...off. Quiet and tight and barely managing to nod as his Gran and Aunt Pat went on and on about making the New Years dinner, and how much they appreciated the two of them coming round for the afternoon.
"Fine Johnny, just excited to be home."
Soap leaned away as the women re-entered the room, more confused by Simon's statement than by the sentiment that he didn't want to see his own family for the holidays.
Home??
What home was Ghost even referring too?
Surely he couldn't mean the flat they shared in London? They hadn't spent enough time in to even make it look like life existed there, not a crumb in the pantry or a tea bag in the whole place.
Was he talking about base? With the cool gray wall, and goldilocks beds, and the shower with the too low head that they hated with a passion, together, because there was a shared understanding that they weren't fighting a war so they could to duck to rinse the shampoo from their hair.
He couldn't be talking about Soap's childhood home. There was no way. Even if they'd been staying for Christmas, it was filled with family, and Ghost hated family.
Sure, he had enjoyed the babying from Soap's mum, because she didn't care if he was a soldier, a scraped knee needs a transformer shaped band aid. And maybe he'd enjoyed the small talk from soap's dad over war movies and news, that turned into comfortable silence over cans of guinnese and a shared pack of cold deli ham and cheddar slices. Maybe he hadn't hated playing rugby with soap's plethora of brothers, nephews and cousins, because there's nothing that represents Christmas more than 23 grown (or almost grown) men tackling each other in the back garden while wives and girlfriends cheer them on.
Ghost couldn't possibly be calling Soap's childhood home, the slightly cramped, pieced together hodgepodge that it was, Home? Could he?
But then he smiles when they walk in the door, and takes off his mask, and limps around as soap's little nieces sit on his feet and hold onto his calves and giggle as he carries them to the den. He sits with soap's sisters, going on about how they met their husbands, and tells them the story of how he and Soap started dating.
Ghost stands out on the back stoop, with the other spouses and partners adopted into the family, and holds up a toast as John MacTavish Sr. gives Simon Riley permission to marry his son.
And Soap could almost cry looking at his family and friends, dancing and drinking late one summer night in the back garden of the house where he'd grown up, surrounding his husband, who begged to have their wedding at home.
Because to Simon Riley - no- Simon MacTavish, this place had been his home since the first time he stepped through the front gate, and saw an entire family of people so willing to love him, all waiting just over the threshold.
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erinwantstowrite · 2 days ago
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Hi I know you mentioned you being aroace just a couple days ago and I was wondering if maybe you could explain more in depth about how you found out your sexuality and what not? If it’s not too personal…
I’ve always sorta struggled since I haven’t had any crushes as a kid except for maybe one and that’s just cause ppl kept asking me who mine was… so I don’t even think it was a legit crush?? So not only do I not know who (looks,gender, that sorta thing) I would like … am I ever gonna like someone to even find that out???
I know you said Superman on the new trailer was hot ahaha so do you still experience that sort of physical attraction? I’ve been told when people question which gender they like, to pick which one looks more attractive to them but I’ve never really experienced that sort of physical attraction so I can’t tell that way either…
I think any thought of a crush forming was more towards their personality as well. Looks I guess are more of a second thought I think..? Even then I can’t tell if this is “you’re such an awesome person I wanna be besties with you” really strong feeling or an actual “I wanna date this person” feeling.
The only person I’ve gotten really close to discerning it as officially crush was someone from work who was older by a good amount… which can be/is pretty weird.. Lots of people my age are just a little too crazy for me.. I guess??? Idk and even now I can’t tell if that was just “glad to have someone as a friend sorta thing. I’m really sorry if this is too personal and u don’t have to respond to the ask directly either I was just hoping on maybe some advice for some clarity if possible… as I get older and realize I’ve never dated/had that sorta infatuation it feels so excluding at times.
Also I am hoping for a feast AND desert with this “‘soon’ but still haven’t posted it two days later” chapter plz and thank you
I hope this made sense and wasn’t too invasive!! :(
when i was younger, i was reading about this kind of thing online and i didn't find anyone like me. i think it's about time that i come full circle and make my own post. i've got like half of my frontal lobe developed and i've been figuring out a lot of things about myself these past couple of years, and there might be someone out there who needs to hear this (´-`ʃ♡ƪ) so if anyone is interested, below the cut is a very long talk about how i figured some stuff out
when it came to my sexuality, i only started considering it when i was in middle school, going into high school. (which would be when i was 12-13). that's when a lot of my friends started having crushes on our classmates and i realized they were being serious when they said they had crushes on people. they had figured out their identities as being a lesbian or bisexual, and they had relationships. (or as close as you can get to that in middle school).
i started to panic and think that i was lagging behind. and i really started to repress my feelings about dating people and romance and what that would entail. i found out through the internet about being pansexual. at the time i thought "oh, they have the same attraction for everyone!" and i slapped it on myself because i thought it would fix everything. i even came out to my parents as pansexual and for a while i left it at that.
i had an idea of romance. i shipped characters in media and i knew that my parents really loved each other. there were a lot of examples for love in my life that weren't the best, but having two parents that actually did care about each other made me want that for myself in the future...
but that's in the future. i personally didn't think about it much because we were still kids. for a while i didn't think anyone else was being serious, that they were just trying it out quicker than i was ready for. it was a strange feeling. i guess i still believed we were playing make believe, or copying what we saw on TV or with our parents. often when my friends asked me who i had a crush on and i felt pressured, i would pick someone that i thought i wouldn't mind dating if i had to. someone would be "interested" in me and i would say "okay" because i felt like that was part of this game we all seemed to be playing. i've had a few "boyfriends" over the years that got people off my back when i had them. in elementary school it was this boy that didn't pick on me, another boy that was my parents' friend's kid. in middle school i had an online boyfriend and a couple of "crushes" on friends of friends, someone just a little far out of my circle that didn't shake anything up. my friends would help me get together with a person and they'd seem so excited for me, so i just went along with it.
then it hit me that they weren't doing it just to do it, or playing pretend. they actually felt something when they were interacting with their crushes. i started to reread books and rewatch media and really grasp what they were saying. the feeling of having butterflies inside them when they talked to each other, blushing when something was said? i thought that was about a general anxiety people get when talking to other people. but there was always something more to it that i just... didn't get. no matter how hard i tried, i didn't understand what that something was.
then started coming the pressure to do the same, to fit in. that's why i accepted a label of pansexual. it was "strange" but at least it didn't feel "broken." i could deal with people telling me that i was wrong for liking more than just boys. but to say that there was no one on the table gave me an anxiety i'd never felt before. like i would be letting down my family, that the entire course of my life would shift. i wouldn't walk down the aisle because there would be no wedding. my parents wouldn't have grandkids. my friends would go on to have lives completely separate from mine, we'd have nothing in common anymore. so i stuffed it all down and made myself believe that this wasn't who i was.
it really mixed me up because i did have a couple of "crushes" that felt real. there were a few girls i was friends with, there were boys in my classes (usually class clowns...) that i'd get excited to see every day. when i thought about dating them, it felt nice. any other time when i thought about dating someone, i'd get this awful feeling in my gut that i later realized was dread. i was fully convinced it was different from all the other times. that "different" that i didn't understand before.
it was different! but not for the reason i thought it was. those people made me laugh, they listened and remembered things about me (that i didn't get much of during that time of my life), and most of all: they didn't like me back.
there were literally no expectations in their eyes for things to go away from friendship. and i think that's what made me like them, but not as a crush. it was relief. there was always an expectation for other people (specifically boys) that if we were friends, things would stray from friendship at some point. not with these people. that relief, combined with all the other good feelings they gave me (class clowns...) made it so much easier to fall into a friendship that i didn't have with other people. and i was in denial for so long that i thought of those friendships as crushes because they were different from other friendships.
there were a couple of times that i got close to having to face my sexuality and it felt like a gut punch. there were a couple of people i was friends with (that i didn't have crushes on) that i had previously thought "if i had to pick someone" about. but when they actually told me their feelings, i would run away. in one case, i literally ran away. i changed my entire routine so that i wouldn't have to face them. and i'm a creature of habit, so of course i took that step back and asked myself why i was having such a strong reaction. my friends didn't understand why i was so panicked about these confessions. especially because before, i "liked" people and had no problem with it.
part of my feelings were that no one would actually like me (which only furthered me not wanting/not considering romance). some of the confessions that i got were fake/pranks, and it would really mess with my head. i wasn't skinny, i knew i was strange and awkward, and i could be very brash and stubborn. i had a weird sense of humor and i missed social ques. i got a lot of "you should be a lawyer" and complaints of being bossy when i was growing up and i always knew they really meant "you're a bitch." i wouldn't understand why i felt so othered from my peers like that until i learned i was possibly autistic, and i only found that out a couple years ago. combined with being plus sized and not conventionally attractive, i didn't get much breathing room. if i wasn't perfectly calm all the time, if i didn't force myself to be overly nice to people, and if i wasn't funny, i'd get told i was "draining" to be around.
i did a lot to try and fit in. i kept my hair long because people would compliment it, i tried to wear skirts instead of pants/shorts, i'd wear comfy clothes and the like so i didn't look like i was trying too hard. a lot of my personality was forced and i was the one who was being drained instead. i ended up having to get a radar for when people were just messing with me. and so when a real confession happened, there was a combination of anxiety about if they were faking or not, doubt that they could actually like me, and then a deep rooted fear about if they were being serious.
instead of the relief i should have felt when i learned it was a real confession, i still felt scared. it would be the same anxiety as if someone asked me to get on the world's tallest roller coaster in the world and i had just seen a chunk of the roller coaster fall in front of me.
that part made it even harder to come to grips with my sexuality. i thought if i gave up on being a hopeless romantic, i'd be giving in to all the times someone told me "I just don't see you dating anyone." being unlovable was a death sentence in my eyes. and it didn't help that i've lived in the south all my life. i was already strange and going to hell for a multitude of things. turning around and telling them that i was going against every expectation set of me to get married and have kids by 24????
(i should clarify that my parents had never been the ones to put this in my mind. when i came out as pansexual, they had only been confused about what the hell that was. the rest of their reaction was "i mean... we could already sort of tell." and while my parents had hopes for my future, i knew deep down that while they'd be a little sad not to have those expected memories with me, they wouldn't turn me away. and they would very likely be happy to create a whole different set of memories with me.)
i have my current friends to thank for me coming to terms with who i am. by the time i was in college i had started to question everything. my middle school friend group had been majority queer but we had gone to different schools or just faded apart. in high school, a majority of my time was spent in band. and while i was one of those people who had friends in a variety of friend groups, the closest friends i had were the people in my section that i sat next to every day. and in the present time, only a couple of them remained straight churchgoers. even though they've changed now just like i have, during high school i was a different story.
going to college opened me up to a far different experience. by this point i'd shifted from pansexual to bisexual. my college experience wasn't... ideal. or really healthy in any aspect. but meeting these people did dislodge the mindset i'd had for most of my life. and my current friends have changed my life. the fear that i had about being aromantic has now become the relief i needed my entire life. it doesn't feel broken, or wrong, or strange. sometimes i do feel sad about it, or question if this is really the case. maybe one day i'll meet someone who shows me that "different" feeling i'd been waiting to understand. but i grew past the societal expectation of needing a partner to be fulfilled in life and i'm so much happier.
life doesn't need to be about that partner. i have many, many friends and family to grow old with. i have a godchild!! one day i'll have my own house to celebrate holidays and achievements at, to host my friends and family. i'll have pets that i love and i'll have my own career, and i'll be happy because i never needed to fit expectations to be happy.
when it comes to anything sexual, it's sort of the same feeling as when i had "crushes" on people in real life. though also different? i don't look at real people and feel an attraction beyond knowing that they are attractive, objectively. i can feel attraction sometimes in a physical sense, but i have no interest in having anything personal happening between us. a fictional character has no interest in me, and so it feels safe to think that they're hot and to express it. like sure, yeah, i have a crush on them! i get giggly when Captain Smoker from One Piece shows up on the screen, and the new Superman makes me think "oh! okay!" but if they were real and in front of me? i'd probably... lose that attraction, like it was never there.
here's the kicker, though, and might sound weird at first: you don't have to put a label on yourself
yeah, i do consider myself aroace. but the world is ever changing and so is the human experience. it helps to have a basis, to understand your feelings and work through them. it's nice to be like "there is a name for this" and to find a community through that. i'm not saying there's anything wrong about figuring out your identity and saying "I'm this, this, and this!" nothing at all wrong with that. but we're all figuring ourselves out, all the time. it doesn't end when you put the label on. you have the entire rest of your life to continue learning things about yourself and the world around you. i wish i'd known in middle school that i didn't have to rush it, that i have every opportunity to take it one phase at a time. a human life seems fleeting, especially when you're looking back on your past and feeling like the time flew by. but that's just our perception of it as we look back.
what i mean to say it that it's okay to backtrack. it's okay to change your mind. it's okay to not put a label on it. it's okay to put a label on it. it's okay not to tell anyone, if you don't want to. it's okay to say "i'll figure it out." and it's okay if you don't. it's okay if you sit up in bed one day when you're 60 years old and go "that's what it is." as long as you live your life listening to yourself and not trying to meet an expectation you think you have to, then you're doing it right.
and it's okay if you lived your life like i did, and you didn't do any of that. being a human is messy and that's part of life. you're not gonna get it right the first time- but even then, sometimes you will! there's a nuance and a spectrum to everything you experience. take pride in who you are even if you don't have a clue yet. be kind to yourself. you're gonna be okay.
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