#too many people too scared to come back into creating the content they had enjoyed creating before

[lucrativesoul]

Welcome Home

summary: you finally graduated college and are home free for the summer, planning to spend as much time as possible with your best friend. what you weren't planning for, however, was the incredible sight of her older brother, Leon, who had drastically changed after all those years. you had never thought you would fall for your best friend's brother.

pairing: leon kennedy (re2) x fem! reader

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut, bathroom sex, public sex, fingering, dom(ish) leon

a/n: guys, thank you endlessly for 300+ followers, 250+ reblogs and all those likes! i'd like you all to take a moment to read this, apologies... i absolutely love writing. I've been writing for ten years! crazy. i do it for fun, and because i want to put out the content that i want to consume and i want to be that outlet for people who don't write but want to consume, that is just as fair! a while ago, while writing this, my laptop gave me a scare. i'm realizing now that its a 5 year old macbook, which, in apple timeline, means it might be on the way out at the blink of an eye. if you are feeling generous at all, i have created a ko-fi. it is absolutely not necessary, because i'm not doing this blog for money, but if you really love my work and want other ways to support me, it's there. i will never be upset at no donations, but i made it in hopes that i'm on this blog for a long time. so sorry for the rambling, i really hope you guys enjoy this one, and i will be back soon for a fifth fic. love u!

No matter how many young adult fiction books you read, how many love story tropes you think you have seen, there was just one that seemed so unreasonable, it was almost laughable. Because, after all, you spent way too much time with this person to ever even see him as attractive, it had never even crossed your mind. Come on, your best friend’s brother? The boy who was so ungracious, messy, impolite, and had a crude, childish sense of humor? It was just unrealistic.

Until… It was realistic.

For all your life, you looked at Leon Kennedy as the young, bumbling boy who tripped over his own two feet at any given opportunity, ready to make jokes at inappropriate times and constantly worked overtime to barge in when you and your best friend were hanging out. He was only two years older than you, but his personality read the same age, if not, younger. Boys will be boys…

You always knew that college would change a person, and you can’t deny that about yourself, but it was so hard to look at the people you were closest to and imagine that they, too, changed with college. Your best friend was still the same person you knew since middle school, and all those years that you knew Leon, he had never changed, until he left for college himself. You were confident in knowing that when he came back, he would be the same exact person, just… older.

You could not have been more wrong.

“These days could not go by any faster.” Your best friend whined to you over the phone, a daily routine between the two of you. “I need you home ASAP, Leon is driving me crazy. He’s being so loud.”

Yep, that sounded pretty in character for him. “I know, just five more days, and I’m home free, forever. I wish commencement wasn’t even happening at this rate, I’m wasting away here.”

You were finishing up your last days as a college senior at a school that was a thousand miles away from home. The scholarship opportunity was incredible, and you could not say no to this offer. Your best friend chose to stay local, which you inwardly criticized, but would never say to her. You knew her parents could have afforded to send her here, who needs that big of a house for a family of four anyway?!

Commencement was set to happen on Thursday, and it was currently Sunday. Your own parents had flown in to watch you walk the stage, and while you knew your best friend would have dropped everything to come as well, her school chose to hold theirs on the same exact day. Figures.

“I miss you guys. The summers I came home just weren't enough. I have to say, I’m so glad this internship bullshit is over. It feels like I haven’t ever even lived with you.”

You heard her groan on the other line. “I know! It’s so stupid. Why would a program even make it so you could only intern in the summer? Don't they know you are only in your twenties once?!”

You laughed at her remark, gazing off as you continued the conversation. Classes were over and exams were concluded, at least you had a healthy pile of books to go through to pass the time. You decided to worry about the logistics of taking them home at a later date.

There’s something so innocent about getting lost in the world of young adult romance. Some would say it makes their own lives dreary, coming to the conclusion that they could never live out these fantasies in the real world, but to you, it felt real anyways. It only made you happier. It puts some optimism in your life.

The comfy plane read you chose was about a high school girl, absolutely smitten over the five-years-older brother of her best friend. This type of thing, you thought, just seemed too… fairytale, to be real. In no world where you knew someone as a child could you grow up and think they were an object of fantasy. You tried picturing you and Leon in this situation. Never!

Admittedly, you haven’t seen Leon in like 4 years. The last time you saw him, it was right before you left for college, and your major requires summer internships which leave a very small window for home visits. You never crossed paths during those times. From what your friend tells you, he’s rarely home now, he must have migrated to a new group of friends in college and found other passions. Good for him, you thought, you wish you could say the same, but you needed the income from whatever job you landed from your internship.

He was never really a tiny boy in high school, he was of a pretty average build and rivaled some of the football players, but he was not an athletic kid. You can’t imagine him changing that much more, your best friend never talked about him like that, obviously, so, you only had to imagine after the last time you saw him.

From your own personal standpoint, it was just impossible to believe in this best friend’s brother trope. You shut the book and closed your eyes, willing the plane to start moving faster.

As soon as your plane touched down, you whipped your phone out to send a text: As soon as all this shit is put away, I’m coming straight over.

Predictably, less than three minutes later: YES!! All nighter, we’re 14 again. I have drinks in the fridge.

Willing yourself through all the pleasantries of coming home, promising other relatives you would be by in a few days when you are settled, you merely threw your suitcase down into your room before dashing out to your car, knowing the route to your best friend’s house even with your eyes closed. 

A tight, running start hug was the intro you both needed as a fresh start to the summer.

“Please tell me you are home for good now, they aren't making you do any more summer internships?”

You laughed as you followed her into the house. It felt like it’s been forever since you’ve been in this large house’s lived-in walls. “No, thank god. I’m officially done. Except for job hunting, but I’m putting that off for as long as I can get away with it.”

“Agreed.”

As you followed her up the steps to her room, snacks and drinks spilling over your arms, a loud cacophony rang out through the house, coming from the garage. “What the hell is that?” You stopped short, listening to it through the closed door.

“Wow, that’s how I really know it’s been forever since you’ve been here. I’m so used to it now. It’s a band that Leon is a part of. The ‘rents loaned out a car space in the garage.”

Wow, you thought, multiple things to dissect here. One: this has been going on for some time now, and you never knew. You didn’t blame your friend for not bringing it up, it wasn’t weird to not mention a new hobby of her brother’s. Two: Leon apparently knew how to play an instrument. You couldn’t recall anytime seeing him play anything, and he had never expressed an interest in singing, so that was difficult to digest. Three: their parents would give up a car space just for them to do this. They still had two car spaces left in there.

“God, it’s really been that long, huh? I’ll have to get him to spill all about this whenever he comes out.”

You heard a groan from in front of you on the stairs, and you hopped up to be beside her, headed to her bedroom. “If you can even catch him. He’s like a slippery snake. Plus, he’s so private, I don't know what happened to him. Anyway, you should come over tomorrow night and pregame with me and the girls, cause…” 

She droned on, and while you still had half of your brain paying attention to her, you couldn’t help but think about that sentence she just said. Leon’s different now? The slippery snake part didn’t make many waves, you weren’t surprised that a man in his mid twenties didn’t want to be bothered, but you didn’t expect a whole new personality to come out of him. What happened while he was gone? Or, what kind of epiphany did he have?

“Oh, my god, look at this, too. I totally forgot to send you this. I’m so mad you missed it!”

Your best friend shoved a phone in your face, and you took it, grateful for the mental topic switch. It was a group of four girls and five boys, your old friends, standing along a cliffside in bathing suits. You assumed this was the cliff jumping extravaganza you heard about over the phone a couple weeks ago. And, yes, you were also mad you missed it.

“This looked like so much fun, I haven't seen all of them in forever. Maybe we can convince everyone to do it again soon.” You looked up and smiled as your friend laughed. You looked back down to the photo. “Who is this?”

She leaned over you as you zoomed in on a man in the top right, his lower half covered by a girl bending forward for a photo, but you could tell he was incredibly toned. His hair was pushed back with water from the lake below, and a broad smile graced his features. You sensed familiarity, but you had never met this person before.

Your friend scoffs. “Girl, what? That’s Leon.”

“What?!” Has it really been that long since you’ve seen Leon in person? Now that you look at it again, yep, that’s definitely him, but why does he look so different? Thinking back, it wasn’t often you spent time with him around after he graduated high school and went to college. You saw him probably even less than you visited home during your college career, and honestly, it has probably been years since you’ve seen him at all. “He looks so… different.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Maybe he won’t recognize you either.” You handed her phone back to her. Maybe, you wondered, but you doubted it. Nothing about you changed at all. You woke up every day waiting for a magical overnight nose job and five month glute progress from the gym that you didn’t go to, but it never happened. 

The night carried on, the strange questions about Leon’s college whereabouts pushed to the back of your mind. It felt so good to be back home. The summer was only just getting started, and with the buzz running through your system, you couldn't feel anything except excitement.

“I’m out of water, fuckkk,” You moaned. Your friend giggled at you. 

“Go get some. And don’t fall.” If you were any more sober you would have glared at her for this, reminding you of the time you drunkenly took a tumble down her stairs, but right now, it was only a funny memory as you totally didn’t have an iron grip on the railing as you walked down.

The rest of the house was dark and quiet now. You remembered her saying her parents were somewhere else, so you hadn’t seen them at all tonight, and there was no longer heavy music coming from the garage. You instinctively turned your head that way, like it would magically start up again.

You stumbled over to the refrigerator, yanking it open and hearing all the bottles clink around on the door. It took you a second to collect your bearings, but after a few more seconds, water was located, and you let your eyes readjust to the darkness as you shut the door. A figure in the darkness made you yelp.

“Goddamnit, you scared me!” You placed a hand over your beating heart.

A deep laugh floated through the air at this, but you were still partially blinded. “Hey, you. I’m sorry, I thought you were my sister.”

Leon. 

You blinked hard a few times, willing the night vision to return, and a little bit of your drunkenness away. You took a hard look at the man in front of you, as good of a look as you could. You only saw a silhouette, a dark shirt, hair over his forehead, and he was taller than you, wider, stronger. This was not the Leon you remember from high school.

“Leon. It’s so nice to see you.” You tried your hardest to sound normal, but surely he already knew what the two of you were up to.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Slowly, your vision was returning, and his facial features were becoming prominent. Eyes. Mouth. Smile. “Congratulations on graduating, back home for good now?” 

“Yeah, yes. Thank god. Thank you.” You could now tell you were fumbling over your words, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs. “I’ll be here a lot more often now, so get used to me.” You walked around him back to the stairs, listening to that low chuckle that you got out of him. God, you really needed another drink.

The night and next day bore on with nothing too important left to remember about it, as long as you were in the confort of your home town again getting fucked up with nowhere to be, it was a great time as far as you were concerned. 

Though, despite continuing to drink that night and waking up a little unsteady the next morning, you couldn’t shake that brief encounter you had with Leon. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could already tell he looked different. His build was wider than the last time you saw it, he even looked a little taller. He had only ever been maybe an inch above you, but since he disappeared to college, it looked like he went up at least five. Or maybe you were shrinking. 

You were mad it was so dark and you were on the edge of tipsy and drunk to be able to clearly see him. You saw him in the photo of the outing at the cliffside, but you really didn't want to believe that was him. He was almost… sexy.

Which was crazy. You had never thought of Leon like that. Yes, there was some sort of novelty to having a crush on the only consistent older man in your life whom you weren’t related to, but whenever you came face to face with him, it was just normal. You felt nothing, he was just there. 

But this… this could change everything. Was he actually attractive now? God knows you weren’t the best at being normal around people who you thought were attractive, and that could make things infinitely awkward with being around your best friend so often. And your best friend, what would she even think? You can’t confide in her to tell her you might think her older brother is hot. This was all messed up. This is not how you wanted summer to start.

–

A few days had passed with no rift, and your momentary crisis left with no memory. You discovered, though, as much as you couldn’t wait for summer to roll around so you could be free of your duties, your days were much more boring than you had anticipated. With your past summer internships, you were always busy, and had one or two days a week to rest at most. But now, with the summer sun high in the sky and no requirements of you anymore, you were at a loss of anything to do other than sit by your best friend’s pool, baking in the heat.

“They’re having some start-of-summer party going on in one of the campus houses tonight, are we down?”

You didn’t move your head nor open your eyes as your friend spoke to you. “Yeah, sure. It will be more of a time than drinking with just us.”

She sighed. “You can say that again.”

You pushed yourself up off the chair. “I’ll be back, don’t drown.”

You listened to her sarcastic response as you went inside the house, needing a moment to cool down, and to refill your drink. As you slid the glass door shut, you were greeted with the sound of loud instruments, reminding you of the first night you came here once returning from school. Leon must have had his bandmates come over some time while the both of you were outside, as you don’t remember hearing this, or seeing anyone else. You ignored it, and stalked past the door, headed upstairs to the kitchen.

The music stopped, a door opened, and chatter became clearer without the barrier. You didn’t know who else Leon could have here, you didn’t know his friends, and you were suddenly too aware of the bikini you had on. Whatever, you soothed your anxiety, I look good.

“Oh, hey.” You turned around at the strange voice, not recognizing the person standing at the stairway, headed towards the kitchen. “Now it’s a party.”

“Dude, gross.” A more familiar voice followed quickly behind the quip, and Leon’s head became visible as he climbed the stairs. “Sorry.” He spoke now to you, visibly doing his best to keep eye contact with you. Now you could really feel your half-nakedness. 

“Doesn’t sound like you guys are making much progress out there.” You joked, turning your head back to where you were filling your water bottle. You heard Leon’s friend laugh, making a remark along the lines of blaming other people in the band, but you unintentionally tuned him out.

“We’re trying.” Leon was closer to you now, and when you turned, his friend had disappeared, probably into the bathroom. Leon was grabbing drinks from the fridge, and the two of you were separated by the kitchen island, sunlight illuminating both of you.

His hair was a shade darker than you remembered it being, still blonde, but almost brown. It came down to touch his ears, and the pieces of bangs on his forehead were clumped together with sweat. He had on a gray tank, the ones with the arm holes that go down to your ribcage. His arms, god, those arms–

“Doing anything fun out there?” He walked around the island, even closer to you now, getting cups from the cabinets. 

You shook your head. “Just trying to become a leather couch while I’m still young.” You fixed the top of your water bottle back on, but didn’t move from your spot, taking the chance to talk to Leon.

“That’s the spirit.” He placed the cups down on the counter and leaned on it, clearly standing around to talk to you, too. You noticed a bandage wrapped around his right hand as he crossed his arms.

“What happened there? Start scrapping with the wrong people?” 

He lifted it and looked at it, like he just realized it was there. He laughed softly. “This might sound gross, but it's just a callus that burst open the other day. Right when I was used to holding drumsticks all the time.”

You sighed a gentle laugh. “Doesn’t that hurt, still using it?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t want to start touching shit and get it all gross again.” He set his hand back down. You took the silence to ask another question. 

“When did the drums start? That was never a thing as far as I can remember.” He looked down, slowly nodding his head, as if trying to piece together memories of what his life was like the last time he saw you.

He sighed. “I kind of picked it up during college. I thought it was a lot of fun. I knew a lot of guys at the time who were in a bunch of different bands, so they had access to all these instruments, and I tried a bunch, but the only one that stuck was drums. I guess it’s easy and I like it only because I still can’t read sheet music for the life of me.”

You smiled softly at his explanation. Looking at him in the daylight, now, you can see the old him in his features. He grew into his face, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced, and his dimpled chin fitting perfectly into his jawline. His eyes were soft, yet tired. Still the bright blue you remember them being.

“Are you any good?”

He smiled fully at this, looking back up to you. “Of course. I know it sounds like ass right now, but we’re trying out some new stuff. But, and maybe I’m just biased, I think we have some really solid potential.”

You shrugged, a grin still present on your face. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”

Leon stood up now, grabbing the cups and the still tied together 6-pack. “I agree. We’re doing a local show next Wednesday night. I’m always inviting my sister, but she doesn’t like going alone, and the rest of your friends don’t like that bar.” You smiled at this. Sounds typical of your friends. “Maybe she will come if you will. And, uh, if you’re still with that guy, he can come, too.”

Your brow furrowed at this. “Guy?”

Leon shrugged. “Oh, well, she told me in passing that you were with some guy last summer. From around here.”

You paused to think about this, nearly forgetting your whole past trying to rake your brain for a memory. It then hit you. “Oh, shit, yeah, that was definitely just a summer thing. He was…” A douche, conceited, horrible at sex. “Not the best. I’m not seeing anybody. And definitely not while school was in. I was way too busy for that.” 

He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Well, that’s good. And fuck that guy.” You giggled at his support. “I think you should come. I’d be happy to see you there.”

And, oddly, for the first time ever speaking with Leon, your stomach did a flip that only ever happened when you were talking to someone whom you liked. It caught you off guard, and your words caught on your throat.

You nodded quickly, using the opportunity to take a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve got the time to, now.”

“Cool. I won’t disappoint, I promise.” With that, Leon bounded back across the room and down the stairs, opening and shutting the door to the garage. You sighed deeply. You didn’t like the feeling that was creeping up inside of you.

Putting your newfound conundrum aside for the night, you resolved to let loose and get back to enjoying the summer the way you had intended to. You were almost tempted to stick around and listen once his band got started with the music again as you were on your way outside, but decided against it, as your friend would surely be asking what took so long. 

Part of you wished Leon had gone to this little party tonight, considering he knew all of your mutual friends, but he was never the party type before this, and it seemed that college did not change that much either. It would make sense if he had a gig coming up, they must be preparing, but you didn’t picture him to be much of a perfectionist. Maybe that changed as well.

–

“Why are we going to this again?” Your friend asked as she followed you out of her house, locking the door behind her. She seemed awfully quick to keep up with you for complaining about doing something she doesn't want to.

“I don’t know, it gives us something to do. Leon asked me to come. Now you’re coming with me.”

“What? Why did Leon ask you to come? He doesn't ask me.” The two of you slid into her sleek black coupe. 

You shrugged as you fastened the belt. “I saw him the other day when I was here, I came in while we were out by the pool. We were just talking. And he said he does invite you, by the way, but you never go.”

She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe he does. You think there will be hot men here?”

“We’re both hoping.” You half-assed the response, but you already knew the answer was yes. You could never tell her you think Leon is attractive now. You had been mulling it over the past few days, ever since you spoke to him, and you had no choice but to confirm it. He really, really grew into his body. You could even push the curiosity aside to wonder what it was about college that changed him like that, you were just thankful it happened.

Your local bar looked just as you remembered, dark and looming from the outside, people filing in and out simultaneously. It was much busier than you had ever seen it, but the show was most likely the reason for the sudden influx in customers.

The crowd was a thick mass, and you had trouble even spotting the stage when you walked in, but once you and your friend had found a nice little corner, vacant of bodies, and conveniently found a third mutual friend to stand by, the room seemed a little less stuffy.

You absentmindedly scanned the crowd, people hoarding in front of the stage, waiting to be the first to break open the mosh pit, presumably, people in the back drinking idly and chatting, almost like they don't even know a show is happening this night. You found yourself looking for Leon. He was in the building somewhere. You wished you could have told him you were there, but what good would that have done? He wouldn’t have come out to say hello, there were preparations to be had back there.

God, shut up already, you willed at yourself, annoyed at the mere fact that you couldn’t stop thinking of Leon.

Admittedly, you thought of that first scene more often than not recently. The muscle shirt, ribcage exposed, thick arms, sweet smile and bouncy cheeks with a strong jawline, the vision came to you during the day, at breakfast, while you were scrolling your phone, late at night, when the moon was your only company. 

You wondered what he would look like tonight. You were so anxious for him to step out on stage. Would he see you?

Your friend stumbled sideways into you, knocking you out of your monetary stupor. People were now starting to crowd in, hence the bump, and you were assuming the start of the set was about to happen.

On cue, the lights went darker, the roar of the crowd exploded, and people rushed on stage and took their places. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Leon, who, from what you could only see from the backlight so far, had on another muscle shirt. It made your legs feel like jelly.

The lights went on, and after a brief introduction from the front man who was holding a guitar, they started. Leon was right, they were pretty good when they weren’t rehearsing new material. You knew this wasn’t the type of music your best friend was into, but to your surprise, she was bopping away with your other mutual friend, both of them holding drinks. That’s probably why.

Turning back, you could see Leon clearly under the lights now, which were strobing in and out, flashing different colors and patterns. His hair was pushed back this time, exposing his forehead, and looking brand new. You liked the way it looked on him, it made him almost look older. Everytime a strong beam of light would shine down on him, you could see the glistening sweat on his skin, his face. He was so focused on hitting the beats, and succeeded everytime, and you were so enticed by it.

This was a side of Leon you never thought you would see. It was so clear, standing in the crowd watching, how much he belonged up there. He looked so confident, every move was made with ease, no hesitation, and you could feel yourself melting.

It was like a headrush, you didn’t think you would enjoy it this much, but clearly, every moment took your breath away. Yes, you were looking at Leon the whole time, but who could really tell?

Soon enough, the show ended, and the crowd was applauding for what felt like ten minutes as the individual members left the stage, thanked everyone, hopped down to talk to others. You were interrupted with your people-watching when your friend grabbed you by the elbow to let you know she was headed back to the bar for more drinks, and you absentmindedly nodded while you turned back.

You caught the back of Leon, dipping behind the stage into the back of the bar. The tips of your fingers tingled with… something, some emotion you couldn’t read… and you let your body take over as you weaved through the crowd, headed to the back.

People bumped you and yelled in your ears as you squeezed in between them, paying them no mind, on a mission of your own.

After a few seconds, you reached a hallway, a few people lingering by the bathrooms, and you spotted someone, you recognized him as the frontman, dipping behind another doorway, chattering loudly to people behind the wall. Times like this, you wished you had decided to down some liquid courage.

You stalked slowly over to the doorway, seeing flashes of shadow as people walked by, unsure if you should hang out or go in. Most likely, you weren’t welcome, it was probably for performers only, but you couldn’t help it, you continued inching closer, drawn in by an unseen force.

As you took another step inward, a figure rushed out and crashed right into you. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, bathrooms are that way if you’re looking for them, this is restricted access.” You looked up at the man you walked into, you didn’t know who it was. 

“Oh, um…” You backed up a step, and though he was making moves to walk around you, he was waiting for a response. “I was actually waiting for Leon… the drummer.” You added in the title, just in case this was a man who worked at the bar with no affiliation to the band. But, to your relief, he nodded.

“I’ll get him, just chill over there, ‘kay?”

You dumbly nodded and backed up again. The hallway was lit with fluorescents, the bright white kind, but it was still dark, with the walls and floors looking slick with condensation. You opted not to lean up against them.

“Hey, you’re still here?” A voice snapped your head back over to your left, and you saw Leon walking towards you. “You didn’t leave with the rest of them?” He must have seen your other friend there as well.

You shook your head. “They’re still here, I think. Just getting drinks.” He nodded. “I told you I would come.” You held your arms out in a here I am gesture. He laughed.

“I’m so glad. I didn’t see you while I was up there, but… I do tend to just tune everything else out when I play.”

“You did great. You were really good.” You spoke, almost breathless for no apparent reason. 

He smiled softly, his eyes holding contact with yours. “Thank you.” His hair was now starting to fall back into place on his forehead, his face was still red with exerted energy. Your eyes wandered, without your permission, his arms were shining under the hallway lights, still sweaty. You looked away, but he saw. “You look great tonight.” His voice was low, and a twist went straight down your abdomen.

You smiled back. You briefly looked down at your outfit, simply a short skirt and loose band tee. “Thank you. It’s nothing.” 

“I like it.” He looked back into your eyes, and you found yourself lost for words. He broke eye contact for a second, turned around and looked into the back room where, presumably, the rest of his bandmates were. He turned back to you. “You know,” He looked down, and took a step forward towards you, slowly, as if to test the waters. You stayed put. “It’s been so long since I saw you last. I almost didn’t recognize you the first night you were at the house.” You grinned at the memory. You were also equally stunned to not know Leon had changed so much. “Not that you weren’t before but… You’re beautiful, now.” 

Your stomach sank at his words, and with his new proximity to you, it caused you to have to look up at him. You felt a strong shiver course up your body.

“I really… I didn’t recognize you. You look so different, too.” You whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear you. “I didn’t even think it was you at first.”

He simply stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your words, and the way you looked in front of him right now. You were suddenly self conscious, but his gaze seemed to tell you that he liked whatever he saw.

“I… don’t want to back you into any corners here…” He looked down, still not meeting your eyes. “But you’re giving me a… vibe. And I’d rather fuck around and find out than never know if I don’t try.”

You stood up straighter, coming closer to meet his face, his eyes finally touching back onto yours. “What kind of vibe?” You had to say something, anything, because you could barely comprehend this situation right now. Leon was catching a vibe from you? Could he tell that you were looking at his body? Could he tell that you thought he became very sexy?

He tilted his head a little further, and his brow bone cast a shadow over his eyes, darkening them. Another shiver down your body. He shrugged. “I think I just… think you are incredibly attractive, now.” His eyes darted down your body for a quick second before resuming their previous place. “And I want to know if you want to just try it out. Just once.”

You took a quick, silent breath in. He must have been picking up your messages, even though you said nothing and only spoke to him once. Was that one conversation that powerful? Was it the hint you dropped about not being with that guy anymore? Was this something he just knew he was going to attempt as soon as he saw you? You didn’t know, and you really didn’t have the time to think it over.

You reached up and placed a hand on his chest, slowly taking the shirt on his body in your hands, pulling him closer, but with no force. His eyes darted up behind you, and he turned his head quickly one more time. He saved you the trouble, and dipped his head down and kissed you hard.

You sighed instantly, fully gripping his shirt and dragging him in closer to you, pushing your body against his as you could feel him move towards you at the same time. You were exploding, you didn’t know what to do with the rest of your body, and could only bring your other hand up to his bicep, where he then palmed your waist. He pulled back after a few seconds.

“Follow me,” His face was flushed, and when he turned around, you were very quick to follow. He maneuvered the two of you through the back room, where people still were congregating, but none of them paid much attention to the two of you. You passed by his other bandmates, and when he turned the corner, he pushed open a door, and ushered you inside. It was a bathroom. “This is the best I can do right now.”

Instead of replying, you simply grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him in. The room was dark, you could tell from under your eyelids as you felt the heat of his face on yours again, and you were at least happy for that, you weren’t too sure you wanted to see the state of the bar’s bathroom at this moment.

His hands found solace again on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles, and fingers teasing along the waistband of your skirt. Leon pressed himself further into you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall, and the stark difference in temperature between the two caused another series of shivers to run up your body.

Leon’s mouth left your lips, now wet and slick with his saliva and yours, and traced them down the length of your jaw, along your neck, nipping at the tender skin, making you sigh and arch your back, increasing the contact of your bodies. Your hands dragged along his sturdy shoulders, reaching around and locking your arms behind his neck, holding him in as he worked your neck, and as his hands started to move. You kept breathily gasping as he bit underneath your jawline, fingertips caressing your jutting hip bone, dipping lower, causing ripples to erupt in your core.

He had positioned his hands now to take purchase on the hem of your skirt, full intentions of pulling it up, when he released his lips from your neck and his face was back in front of yours. 

“Sorry that this is all we have.” His voice was low, and you almost didn't hear it over the static of the bar music softly coming in through the speakers. “We can wait if you want.”

His hand was still positioned on your clothing, and you didn’t let go of him even a little bit. You could only look up, your head already touching the wall behind you. “Where’s the thrill in that?”

Under his shadow, you saw his lips quirk up slightly, he breathed a laugh, and dove back in to kiss you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging, hearing him groan at the sensation. The hand that was ready to hike your skirt up did just that, and his other was gripping your thigh, lifting it higher so he could slide himself right in between. 

He made himself comfortable pressed against you, and you could feel his erection growing through his jeans, giving himself some sort of friction, and you pushed back, earning another groan through your still connected lips. You dropped one of your hands from his hair and traced down his bicep, and into the large hole of his shirt, relishing in every ridge that his ribcage and abdomen had to offer. His skin was so smooth, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

He backed away from the kiss briefly for another moment. “If I never saw you that day you came inside, half naked… in my house looking like that…” He continued to grind himself into you as he spoke, earning noises from the both of you. “Who knows how long I would have to wait?” The hand on your thigh crept upward, leaving a wake of shivers in its path. His palm was flush to your bare skin, reaching the joint of your thigh and hip, and he squeezed the flesh of your hip, digging his thumb into the sweet spot, making you squirm. You clawed at his back, you didn’t even care if it hurt him. You were sure it didn’t.

Leon hovered his mouth over yours, not connecting, but enticing you, and you could only look up at him through a foggy gaze. His hair had now fallen back over his forehead, streaked with sweat, but you hardly minded the way it was touching yours, you wanted him closer. It was impossible how, through the shadow he cast from the light behind him, you could see his blue eyes so clearly, pupils blown, the way he was looking at you made you want to drop dead.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you didn’t even have words to say back to him, you just needed to show him what you thought, how you felt, you just needed him. Your hands came around the front of his body again, not losing contact the entire way, and grasped desperately at his belt, needing to pull out his girth, needing to have his cock in your hands, mouth, in you.

You gasped, trying to form words, but his presence was so dominating, you almost couldn’t. “Leon…” You breathed, and your fingers couldn’t work the clasp fast enough. “Let me…” Finally, it slid open, you pulled the two ends of the belt apart, and made quick work to free his dick from its constraints. Your knees buckled, and you started sliding down the wall.

As you were about to hit the ground, his hands hoisted you back up from under your arms, and you could have whined, the frustration growing, the time only growing in between you getting to have him in your mouth.

“No, I’m sorry,” He grunted as he pulled you up. He put both hands under your thighs, and you gasped as he suddenly picked you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance. “You’re not getting on this floor for me, we’ll save that for another time.”

Another time. Fuck, just those words alone had you melting in his grasp, his strong hands and arms holding you up, walking you around the corner of the bathroom and shutting the two of you in a stall.

“But, you already started this for me, so,” He had you pressed in between himself and the wall once again, one of his arms was still holding you up in the air, legs wrapped around his torso. He tried to separate himself as much as he could to pull his cock out, you reached down in between the two of you to help him, pulling the waistband forward so he could pull them down.

Your breath caught as he pulled it out, a solid, thick length, rock hard, and you were suddenly so mad he wouldn’t let you suck it, because, fuck you would have sucked the life out of him at just the sight of his dick. 

Once he was free, he stroked himself a couple of times, causing himself to moan, and shit, you almost did, too, and he went back to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up over your hips, exposing your small underwear. He eyed them for a moment, humming in acceptance, before sliding them sideways and exposing your aching pussy to the cool air. You, in contrast, were overheating in this bathroom, but now that you were free, it felt so nice, and it felt even better when he ran his fingers along the length, in between your folds, pressing into your clit to watch you squirm again under him.

You sighed loudly, moans slipping out with your breathing as his contact with your heat felt like heaven, your head leaned back and hit the wall, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t feel it, you felt nothing but Leon’s fingers right now.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” He was breathing heavily, and you choked out a whimper when he slid one of his fingers in, and it wasn’t stopped with any friction. You also couldn’t believe how wet you were, but then again, you would jump hurdles to be able to suck his dick right here and now, so it must have gotten you worked up. “You feel so good around me.” He mumbled, practically groaned out, sliding in a second finger with ease, the slick sounds becoming louder as he worked you open, and while it felt so good, you just needed him to fuck you already.

“Leon…” You kept whining, unable to say anything else, mind fading, only wrapped around the feeling of him pleasuring you, fingering you, loosening you up for him. “Please, Leon…” You moved your hips, trying to signal to him to pull his fingers out, but he resisted, his hand following the movements of your hips, only going deeper, causing you to squeal when he went as far in as he could.

“Stay still, take it…” Now he pushed himself back against you, finding your lips again and kissing passionately, trapping his fingers inside you, and when you felt them move inside of you, you couldn’t help but squirm against him. His tongue caressed your lips, the inside of your mouth, and your tongue as he was so entwined in kissing you and in fingering you to the edge, his other hand gripping relentlessly at your ass.

After what felt like forever, he backed away, strings of saliva connecting your mouths, his eyes darker than ever, and you, breathing heavily, working to regain composure. He slid his fingers out, a small hiss escaping your lips with the emptiness.

“Fuck,” He sighed, and he looked back down in between you two. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and ass as he used his now free hand to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, you felt a throb hit the core of your pussy at the mere sight, and you instinctively tightened when he teasingly dragged the tip along your lips, not giving you what he knew you wanted.

You sighed frustratingly, and couldn’t help it but to reach down and wrap your own hand around his dick. The sudden contact made him gasp, but he caught your hand and prevented you from piloting the moment.

“Just relax…” You didn’t need to look up to hear the smile painting his face, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew he had the upper hand. This time. “You’ll get it, just be patient.” He drew a couple more lines into you, with your hand still trapped under his on his cock, which you could feel it throb every few seconds, and he finally pushed the tip into you.

You whimpered, whole body going slack, and you drew your hand back from his dick to find closure on his shoulder, steadying yourself as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He had to stop every other second to collect himself as well, jaw tightened, hands gripping bruises into your hips and legs, a long, deep sigh once he was bottomed out.

He brought himself closer to you, relishing in the feeling of you being wrapped around him, unmoving, and he had his face in the crook of your neck, as if to ground himself from the feeling. Your body was shaking slightly, and you could barely breathe with his weight on top of you, but it all felt so good. His skin was slick, sweat coating anywhere that wasn’t exposed to the air, and your hands drawing deep scratches into his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, fuck…” You felt Leon’s lips moving against your throat, and his breath was hot, you could tell he was desperate to move inside of you, but he was still. “You’re so tight, god…” His lips moved up to place gentle kisses along your jawline, and your head rolled to the side to give him more access. He stayed there for a second, teeth grazing your skin, and after a while you were ready for him to start moving.

You picked your head up and turned sideways, forcing him to look directly at you, wasting no time in reconnecting your lips, and, while continuing to kiss you, he slowly slid out, and pushed himself back in.

The both of you were glued to each other as he continued to thrust in and out, your hands gripping impossibly hard on his shoulders, thighs shaking, breaths choppy. His eyes never left your face, he was watching your expressions so closely, you had no control over whatever was happening to you, you could barely breathe, you were so focused on the feeling that Leon was delivering, you simply ceased to acknowledge the setting you both were in.

“God, Leon…” You choked out in between gasps, head hitting the wall over and over, trying to helplessly grind your hips into his when he thrust up, but you had no energy to move against him. He took the initiative, and every time he would plunge into you, he would stay there for a beat longer, and make sure your previously ignored clit was getting the friction it needed, which made you whine even louder.

His breaths were so heavy, spitting out ‘Fuck’, and ‘Oh, shit’, and ‘So good’ every few seconds, letting his train of thought loose as he let himself go, and lost control of the pace.

One of his hands let go of your thigh, and it landed along your chin, forcing your head down to look into his eyes. “How does that feel, hm? So hard to move in you, so tight.” His voice was a broken mess, just breaths, essentially, but it was all you needed to spur you on. 

You simply nodded, knowing the words were nowhere close to coming out right now. Even if you tried, it would be a mess of moans and gasps. You could feel him so deep inside of you, hitting that point to split you open, your pussy was endlessly wet, enough to fuel a whole round or two, and he let you know.

On another thrust, he pushed himself in and sat there for a moment, your moans spilling out without reserve, you both tensed as the unmistakable sound of the creaking door was heard.

Leon took his right hand, free from holding you up, and laced it over your mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure that you had left in you. 

You were both stiff, eyes wide, and he had his head swung in the direction of the noise. The footsteps approached the counter and turned the sink on. If they were to walk around the corner, they would see Leon’s legs under the door, and could have easily walked in, considering he didn’t shut it all the way, it was just stopped by his body behind it.

He slowly turned his head back to face you, you couldn’t move due to the weight of his hand, and you wanted to writhe under him so bad, feeling his cock throb still deep inside of you while you both were still. Tears were practically forming in your eyes.

He locked eyes with you, and without a sound, mouthed the words Be quiet.

He kept his hand clamped over your mouth, but he slowly adjusted your position so he could slide out of you at a snail’s pace. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to move, and you used all of your remaining energy to hold yourself together, being overcome by the pleasure while also staying conscious of the person who was still at the bathroom sink. You were glad there was still music playing outside in the bar, and the sink was still running, because if it were dead silent, they definitely would have been able to hear the wet sound of Leon pulling out, and fucking back in. 

He held eye contact with you while he continued to do this, holding you so tightly to make sure nothing made any noise,and a devilish grin broke out onto his face. He was enjoying every second of this. 

He was basically getting off on the idea of pushing you to your limit, forcing you to obey what he asked you to, even if it would benefit the both of you rather than just one. If Leon were shameless enough, he could have told them to fuck off, but instead, he held you here, silenced you, yet drove you to the fucking brink just to watch you fall apart. It made you want to cum right then and there.

After what felt like ten, twenty, thirty minutes (fifteen seconds), the sink shut off, a moment of silence, and the door creaked open again. Leon took his hand off your mouth and you both sighed deeply. While holding you still, Leon leaned back to look through the door to confirm you were alone once again.

“You were barely holding it together, I thought we were going to get caught.” He said on another thrust into you, bringing your faces closer once again. You swallowed hard, instinctively choking back moans now.

“Y-you… you were making it hard…” Gasps, again, as Leon was determined to make everything he asked of you difficult.

He brought himself closer into you, and spoke lowly. “Good,” With swift moves, his free hand was around your throat, holding your head back, and he was relentlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock.

The pressure around your throat and the pressure building in your core at his movements was all overwhelming, your hands were cutting crescents into his bicep from your nails, but he hardly took notice, he was so busy moving the both of you as well as keeping an eye on your face to watch how you were responding to his movements, he was too preoccupied.

The slick sounds coming from your pussy were evidence that the situation was much more of a stimulant than you ever expected, and the sound alone brought you so close to the edge.

“I bet you loved almost getting caught.” He groaned out, his movements stuttering, and you knew he must be close as well. “I bet it was driving you crazy, having to shut up while I gave it to you. You took it so well.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, mouth open, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you were drooling at this point, Leon had all the power now.

“Leon,” You whispered, no energy for your full voice anymore. He understood.

“Take it, baby.” He thrust harder and harder, pressing you flat against the wall, the tip of his cock hitting all the deepest points. “I’m almost there, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, Leon,” If you could grasp any harder against his arms, you just did. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“You got it, come on, cum for me.” He pressed his forehead into yours, grinding into you on the inward thrusts, making you fall apart in his arms. A few more thrusts, grinding a few more times, and a squeeze to your throat had you gasping in a silent scream around him, panting wildly letting your orgasm loose. 

He fucked you all the way through it. “Shit, that felt so good, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You watched him as he chased his own, sweat beads dripping down his face, his hair coated in it. His hips stuttered one more time, and as he released his seed into you, he buried his face into your neck, whimpering and biting again. 

He pulled out of you, and it wasn’t missed by either of you the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. You cracked a small smile when you heard him breathe a laugh.

“I’m sure that’s not the first time this bathroom has seen that.” He looked back up at you, breathing heavily, arms shaking from holding you up. You tapped his arms, hoping your legs were strong enough to stand on your own. He lowered you slowly, making sure you were stable before letting you go.

“I hope that’s what you wanted. I might have gotten ahead of myself.” He was still standing in front of you, neither of you made moves to leave the stall. You leaned against the wall for support.

“I would have stopped you a long time ago if it wasn’t, Leon.” He smiled down at you, breaths steadying out. He nodded his head.

“Coming to the house any time soon?”

You laughed out loud this time. “I’m sleeping over this weekend.” 

He smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. He leaned in and kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”

[miruac]

dating tenya iida headcanons - part three

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warnings: extremely self indulgent, not proofread, reverse comfort!!! for iida!!! because even an uptight strong person like him has his moments!!!!

a/n: you guys are EATING these headcanons up...thank you to all of you who like my content, im so glad that theres actually people who like iida as much as i do out there <333 also i will be creating a taglist for this series, so please send me a request if youd like to be added!!

this headcanon popped up into my head as i was taking off my mascara today but like if youre too tired to, iida will gladly take off your makeup for you

he does it so softly and gently im gonna sob

while doing so he's whispering sweet nothings to you(EXCEPT HE MEANS EVERYTHING)

"you're so gorgeous. *wipe* everything about you intrigues me. *wipe*. im so glad that you let me be with you. *wipe* "wait-why are you crying??"

he's such a good cuddler guys omg

going back to my headcanon on how he's touchstarved, it takes a while for him to open up to cuddling

hes worried that he'll act inappropriately and would fear if something he did anything to you

but slowly and surely he warmed up, and now almost everyday you guys are just lounging in each others arms

he's a little stiff, but he figures how you like to be cuddled and he also enjoys it

as long as he's with you he'll be okay

iidas a gossiper. no one argue with me

he won't create false rumours

but he keeps an open ear, and ALWAYS happens to overhear the drama

when he tells you everything he knows your jaw DROPS

because no way does someone so goody goody like him talks shit

but its okay you guys have like designated days to spill everything you know to each other

probably over some snacks too while youre at it

reverse comfort time!!! because our big hunk has his moments too!!!!

during the stain incident, he had so many breakdowns

over his brothers condition, his familys wellbeing, the fact that his brother was actually attacked by a villain

but the major thing was that iida was the successor to ingenium

growing up he knew he was gonna become ingenium at some point, but he didn't think it would be this early

he had a panic attack in the middle of the night, about whether he was worthy enough to actually BE ingenium

in the middle of the night, he knocked on your door

you opened it to find iida with his hair all messy, glasses slanted and almost falling off his nose, while he had tear streaks running down his eyes

when he sees you, he's apologizing profusely under his breath(he's scared he's bothering you :()

"imsorryiknowitslateandireallyshouldntbeherebutididntknowwhattodoand-" "iida?" "iknowimbreakingsomerulesrightnowandiknowiwillhavetofacetheconsequences-" "iida?" "butididntknowwhereelsetogoand-" "iida. you're spiraling, come inside."

he almost crumbles when you let him in, as he trudges to sit on your bed whilst wiping his face

you hand him a bottle of water while you sit next to him, ears open

seeing him cry made your heart crack a little bit, because iida doesn't cry unless he's under an insane amount of pressure

he slowly opened up about how he felt unprepared to become the new ingenium heir in such a short time and if he really was worthy of taking the name for himself

all while you held his hand and listened intently

you two ended up cuddling, you lying down while he had his head on your chest and his arms around you

your fingers were playing with his hair as you were reassuring him through all of it, and he realized he likes his hair to be played with

"y/n?" "hmm?" "thank you." "of course, tenya."

the next morning you got to class and on your desk was a little origami flower with a little note from iida as a thank you

he HATES arguing

he hates it so much he doesn't like getting angry in general, especially at you

when you guys have your first argument he doesn't really know what to say because this is his first relationship, and he wasn't sure how to navigate his feelings

but he never snaps ever; at most his voice gets a little bit louder and his tone is a little more rushed

he never wants to raise his voice at you, so he goes off alone for a little while to cool his head. then, if both of you are ready he'll try his best to tell you his persepective of things

after almost a year of dating, he's more open with showing pda but still gets a little shy

its time!!! to meet the family!!!! tensei has heard of you through iida, and you two have met briefly when you visited him in the hospital with iida

you're a bit scared that his parents won't like you or will think you aren't good enough for their son but theyre not like that at all!!!

he brings you home during the break between first year to second year

when you got to his place your jaw DROPPED

sure hes the brother of ingenium a famed hero but this mans house is NICE(like this as an example but a lot of backyard space)

its not like extravagant but big enough to make you question the amount of money you have in your bank account

he squeezes your hand reassuringly to calm your nerves before you go inside

when you guys go inside, you're greeted by his mother and his brother

his dad was at the agency clearing up some paperwork

his mom is so sweet im gonna cry

she's so welcoming and very patient with you, and she gladly shakes your hand and even welcomes you with a hug

she shows you to the room where you're staying for the time being, and when you get to the room your jaw drops even MORE

it has its own bathroom, the bed is huge, and theres so much lounging space

not to mention the view??? ok im done yapping about houses

theres a special pyjama set on the bed and slippers for you

during dinner you guys converse about how you and iida met, and how life is at ua

after dinner you and his mom gossiped about work stories and stories of raising iida

she showed you baby pictures of him and oh my god HE WAS SO CUTEE

when he first got his engines i headcanon he didnt know how to stop and he hit the wall.....so theres just a picture of a baby iida shaped dent in the wall

your new nickname for him after seeing that was "wall wrecker"

his dad came home a little later and greeted you with a firm handshake

it was a little scary meeting his dad but he seemed to be pleased, just a little quiet and strict

iida showed you to your room when it got late and gave you a little goodnight hug and peck on the cheek

"thank you for letting me bring you home. i hope my mother isn't too...overbearing."

HES SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY

the next day he took you out on a little picnic date at this park

held you in his arms while you watched the petals fall im SICK TO MY STOMACH

he after the picnic he took you out to dinner at this higher fancy restaurant

he held your hand the entire time im gonna barf hes so cute

ignored all your requests to split the bill and he paid the full thing(eat the rich im gonna eat HIM)

you guys watched the sunset while walking home and it was so nice to spend the day with him

the entire day he was telling you stories of the places he took you

he literally never let go of your hand during the day, but his face was still a little red <3 i love him so much im gonna sob

"everytime i look at you im stunned by your beauty. you're even more radiant than those sakura leaves, darling."

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a/n: WAHHHHH HES SO CUTE IM GONNA CRYYYYYYY

guys i know youve all been looking forward to part 3 but lowk this one was a little rushed and last minute but i hope it lives up to your expectations :3 nuubiii signing off!!!

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)

I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?

Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.

Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.

Here was my two cents contribution:

"No, what they said was factual.

Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?

Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.

In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.

He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.

Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.

But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.

Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.

But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.

In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.

I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.

In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.

But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.

Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.

At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .

During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."

He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.

So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt

P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.

LLAP!🖖💚

[onlystylesangels]

Silent Struggles

Anon: I might have a request … :) so what if harry found fem!Y/N’s pack of cigarettes and he didn’t know she smoked bc she never mentioned anything and he talks to her bc he’s concerned?/ Anon: H's girl seems to be acting off and he confronts her and it turns out she's been dealing with some depression and anxiety and she's been to scared to let anyone in or... reader seems to be going through something and hasn't told anyone about it and starts smoking cigarettes; dealing with her problems alone.

Warnings!!!: talks about anxiety, talks about depression, smoking, fluff, Harry being a supportive boyfriend, reader feeling insecure

A/N: Hello!!!! I know it's been a very long time since I have posted a new Harry writing. But here it is, lovies! I hope you enjoy this one. !!!***Before you read I want to start by saying that you are loved and you're precious to this world. I love you, yeah, you the lovely person that's reading this. I care about you and there are so many people around you that care for you too. Please if you're going through something, don't fight alone. Please tell someone what you're going through. Please be safe. -A <3

It happened as always. At night you would wake up from a nightmare, open the drawer from your nightstand and rummage for your new pack of cigarettes, the plastic wrapper still intact. You took two cigarettes out and grabbed your lighter. You walk into the balcony and start the fire. You inhale a sharp breath and let out the hollowing contents of nicotine. It felt nice. Feeling the nightly fresh air hit your exposed arms, goosebumps adorning your skin as you puff out smoke from your mouth. It happened as always, as a freshly new night routine. 

The next morning you woke up with the bitter taste of nicotine filling your senses and feeling a bit dizzy when you sat up from bed. You quickly grab your phone and look at the time. It was already 9am and you were positive that you were going to be running late to the local bookstore. 

So, you take a shower and put on clothes that may or may not have matched together to create a decent outfit, but fuck it. You were about to be late so you had to work with what you had. You quickly dashed to the kitchen and prepared a quick breakfast and made sure to message Harry. 

“Hi bubba! I’m heading out to work. I’ll see you later today, okay? Love you.”

“Sounds good, love. I love you too. Make sure to drink enough water!” 

Harry, always the caring type. You loved that about him. Having a person loving you for you and always making sure that you were doing okay was one of the blessings that you took for granted. If only it were that easy to show that same love to yourself.   

“Richie! Did you get a chance to call Davy? His favorite book just came in and he had first dibs on the book” You shout out to your coworker who always seems to be too busy to work as he is sitting at the back corner of the bookstore, scrolling through his phone. Pesky phones, fucking culprits of rotting out your brain.  

“Haven’t gotten a chance, Y/N. Why don’t you call ‘em?” Richie sends you a head nod and immediately looks down at his phone. Fucking twat.

You roll your eyes and walk towards the front desk and call Davy. But before you start pushing down the buttons on the phone you see someone come in.

“Hey Y/N! Has that book come in here yet?” The man of the hour. Davy, the active reader and loyal customer of the Blues Blues Bookstore. 

“Hey there, Davy. I was literally just about to call you. I got that book reserved here for you. Hold on.” 

You walk towards the back of the store and retrieve the book that had a bookmark with his name plastered on it. You walk towards the entrance and hand it to him. He quickly takes the book in his hands and begins turning the pages. 

“I love it! Thank you again, Y/N! Glad I got here as quickly as possible.” 

You turn towards the computer and begin typing away, clearing the book for Davy.

“My pleasure, Davy. Just make sure to always come back. You’re keeping us in business, remember?” You joke, making Davy laugh and giving you an eye roll.

“Yeah, yeah. I recommended some people to come by to the store. Not sure if they found their way in yet.”   

“Haven’t seen any new faces lately. I would ask Richie, but that twat doesn’t do anything here, so I guess no new customers.”

“Hmm, you should bring that up to Daya. I’m sure she’ll fire the guy.”

Firing Richie, tsk, that guy is literally family to Daya. Even if you tell her that Richie doesn’t do anything in the store she’ll find a way to defend him and tell you off. There is no way that you would ever start a conversation regarding firing Richie to Daya; she’ll never believe or listen to you. 

“We’ll see.” Is all you say as Davy puts his new book in his satchel.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” Davy says as he starts walking towards the doors. “Oh, and tell that boyfriend of yours hi. I haven’t seen that English man in a while.” 

You smile at the thought of him bringing up Harry. 

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll tell him you said hi. See you Davy.” You wave goodbye to him as he does the same. 

During your break time you try to sneak in some time to smoke a cigarette and make sure that the door you come out from is shut tightly. You feel dumb for hiding your recent cigarette intake from people, but then again, people see you as the nicest and innocent person on earth. Yeah, sure. But you kept thinking about the deadline. Your personal deadline that you set yourself to meet someone at the law college that you have been researching on. 

For a couple of months now you’ve been thinking about applying to a local law college in your city and were afraid to continue the process. You continuously had non-pep talks about how you would be a terrible law student and that you may not make it to getting accepted into the college. This and telling anyone about it was just too much for you to handle. You didn't even tell Harry yet. You knew why you didn’t want to tell anyone; you didn’t want to burden them with your problems. Problems that you knew were affecting you mentally and emotionally. 

= = = 

After the break you couldn’t stop the thoughts running through your mind. The mere thought of reaching out to the law school representatives and going to that mandatory interview to see if you were worth being a candidate for their college was already too much to think about. And so you continue your work in the bookstore. Putting new books up on the shelves and welcoming customers into the bookstore. Parents accompanied with their children as you reach for the candy jar under the front desk to offer to the children. You liked your job at the bookstore, but you felt like you needed a change of scenery, especially after working there for four years. And the thought of leaving this job and trying something new frightened you.

A couple of minutes before you were off. There was a ding heard at the entryway.

“Sorry, we’re closed. You can come by tomorrow at-” You look up from the front desk and notice that it’s Harry. Carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His hair started to grow from the buzz cut he got months ago. Gray trousers and loose fitting t-shirt that was starting to rip at the neckline. You told him to throw that shirt away but he always replied by saying that it was his lucky shirt. Did you believe him? Of course not, but if he claims it is his lucky shirt then it’s his lucky shirt.

“Harry!” You run towards him ignoring the stack of books that were in front of you that needed price tags. 

Harry smiles and hugs you back as he kisses your cheek. “Hi, my love.” You walk back a bit and finally take notice of the bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

“And these?” 

“Oh, I got ‘em for Richie. You know that marvelous coworker of yours,” He lies through his teeth, your eyes rolling at the mention of his name. He notices your change of mood and lifts your chin with his thumb. “Hey, lovie. I’m joking. These are for you. I saw them at the local flower shop and thought that you would like ‘em.” Your lips start curving into a smile and you give him a kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, Harry,” you smell the flowers and softly touch the flower petals, “They’re gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome, my love.” Harry follows you as you go towards the backroom. Retrieving your things and ready to call it a day at the bookstore. 

“Ready?” Harry asks you. You smile in response and immediately grab his hand as he leads you both to the exit. You lock the doors to the bookstore and leave walking hand-in-hand with Harry.

You reach your apartment and unlock the door to your little home. You walk in along with Harry and make your way to the sink and grab a vase under the sink cabinet. Harry watches you as you fill the vase with water and stick the flowers in it; he admires your acts and just leans his weight on the kitchen island and stares at you as if you were this beautiful undiscovered galaxy. 

You catch him staring and you get shy all of a sudden. You get a bit self-conscious, but then that feeling goes away when Harry walks towards you and cups your cheeks. 

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” You feel your cheeks get hot and you quickly turn your head away from his gaze; not even hiding the smile that you had. Harry chuckles and swiftly turns your head back to his gaze. “Don’t hide from me, love. It’s just me.” Harry teases, the back of his hand smoothly running down your cheek. 

“You make me nervous, Harry.” You confess, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you making me shy.” 

Harry picks you up and walks towards the couch. He keeps you on his lap as you continue hiding away from him. You both have been dating for over a year and so you must’ve at least gotten used to all those times that Harry gets you all flustered, but you haven’t yet. It’s like falling in love with him for the first time. That’s how you feel right now. Your body is so close to his and his arms wrapped around your body as he just holds you. Appreciating your presence; he held you in strong arms as if he was afraid to let you go. And he was.

For the rest of the evening you both order takeout from two different restaurants because you were craving two of your favorite foods. Harry happily ordered from the two restaurants as he left you in an excited mess. Excited that you were finally going to eat those foods that you craved for so long. The food doesn’t take long for it to arrive at the apartment and so you and Harry eat on the couch and watch some movies to pass the time. You both joke around about the characters from the movie that you were both watching and made the night pleasant. 

As the night went along, you were laughing along with Harry and enjoying being in each other’s company. You wished you could be there on the couch all night, but you were starting to yawn and your eyes starting to droop from how sleepy you were. Harry noticed and turns off the tv and grabs your hand and leads you both to your bedroom. He lets you go into the bathroom first to start your night routine as he lies down on the bed scrolling on his phone. 

You walk out the bathroom and stand over the bed and lean down to meet Harry’s eyes. He plops his phone down on his stomach and you take this opportunity to kiss his pink lips. 

“Mm, I don’t want to shower anymore.” He whines in between kisses. You chuckle and grab both of his hands and try your best to lift your boyfriend up from the bed. Jeez, you weren’t an active gym-rat, but from just lifting up his body you felt like you did a whole workout.

“Damn, Harry.” You swipe a hand over your forehead. Harry laughed in response. 

“My bones are heavy, love.” He simply responds as he walks towards your dresser and opens up his designated drawer that has some of his clothes in it. “Be right back, lovie.” He looks behind him and sees you starting to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. 

“Don’t take too long.” You respond

“I’ll try not to.” He walks to the bathroom with a new pair of clothes hanging on his shoulder. He leaves the door open; the showerhead turning on.

A couple of minutes pass and Harry walks back into the bedroom; drying his hair as best as he could. It was easier for him to dry it now that it was shorter. You lift up the bed covers inviting him inside the warm cocoon. You both lie together, Harry spooned you from behind and as you brought one his arms up to your chest. You both fall asleep into a quiet slumber. 

But you wake up after a couple of hours. You didn’t even bother to check the time as you opened your eyes and slowly removed Harry’s arm from hugging your body. You sit up and walk towards your bedside drawer; already knowing your nightly routine. You grab the pack of cigarettes that were hidden under some of your favorite books and miscellaneous items that you kept forgetting to get rid of. You also get a lighter that was stashed inside your purse and go outside to the balcony.

The butt of the cigarette blazes to life as you take a breath in of the substance and slowly let a breath out. Your thoughts once again start to disappear with every intake of breath you take. It numbed them, made them disappear, but only temporarily. You knew that smoking was making your lungs get sore and your nose wrinkling still not getting used to the smell of the smoke, but you didn’t care at that moment. It numbed everything, it numbed your problems and it made everything feel-- better.

As you continued puffing out air of smoke you continued looking up at the sky, stars aligning the horizon randomly. With each puff of smoke you felt the anxiety slowly go away. You were almost down to the brim of the cigarette, so you could comfortably go back to sleep. Once you were about to inhale one last breath of nicotine you heard footsteps making its way towards the balcony. You freeze and hold the cigarette in your  fingers, bringing your hand to your side. 

“Y/n?” Harry says as he rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes. “What are you doing out here, it’s la-” He stops himself once he notices what’s in your hand. He looked confused, he didn’t know you smoked. 

“Harry.” You reply. The cigarette is still in between your fingers, burning away. 

“I- I didn’t know you smoke.” Harry begins slowly walking towards you, concern sketched in his eyes.

You look down at the cigarette that continues to burn away and you feel tears start welling up in your eyes. You bring the cigarette up in front of you and stomp it on the floor, watching as the smoke starts consuming your nose. Regret. Regret is what you were feeling as you turned to Harry’s presence, his demeanor causing you to feel like a deer in front of headlights. You’re sorry. Sorry that you never told him that you picked up smoking because of not having anything else to control your anxiety. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Harry runs to you and embraces you with all his might. “Oh love. Come here.” You snuggled into his embrace and began crying. You held onto his arms so tightly that you were clutching onto him afraid of him letting go. Letting you go.

“I was scared. I just wanted to help… myself.” You mutter.

Harry held you as he ran his hands down your back. He would occasionally massage your head. “I promise you baby, I am going to be here for as long as you want me to, then you can let me in and help you.” He held onto you tightly and he kissed the side of your face. Harry let you cry on his chest as he rubbed your back soothingly, trying best to comfort you.

“I just felt alone.”  

Harry steps back a bit and looks you in the face, concern written all over his green irises. He held your hand in his and met your eyes filled with tears.“You have me, darlin’.” Harry said, his fingers lightly brushing away the stranded tear on your cheek. “I’m right here, Y/N.” He reassures you. Bringing you close to his body again.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m sorry.” You let out, Harry cupping your cheeks trying to calm your nerves. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You have nothin’ to apologize for, lovie.” He looks at your bloodshot eyes. Seeing you sad like this he felt broken. Broken that he didn’t know how to make you feel better, broken because he hated seeing you without a smile on your face. Broken that he wasn’t aware that you were hurting. “Is it okay if I ask what’s going on?” He said with a soft voice. 

“I– I just been sad and overthinking, okay.” You let out, your hands coming up to cover your face. You felt ashamed, as if a parent just witnessed the most disappointing act from their child. You hated feeling insecure in your own skin; you felt worse that it was Harry that was looking down at you with concern in his eyes and his body weight shifting to softly take your hands in his and seeing your face. 

“Hey, hey. Y/N, baby, you’re scaring me. What are you sad about,” Harry steps back a bit giving you room to speak and mostly giving himself self-control from forcing you to share what’s been making you sad. “Baby, I’m right here, okay. It’s just me.” 

You slowly turn your head away from his gaze and look at the sky. Your hands no longer covering your flushed face, but now twiddling with your shirt, Harry’s shirt. You feel bad that you now created droplets of tears on the collar of his favorite shirt. 

“I just have been dealing with a lot of negative thoughts and I just… sniffle… I didn’t want you to worry about me.” Your hands constantly were moving from your face down to your shirt. Harry catches your little antics and walks towards you, slowly, making sure that he has a good distance between you two before he starts again.

“Y/N. I had no idea that you were going through something. I had the feeling that you were acting a bit different, but never thought that something was affecting you,” He waits for your permission to come in closer and so he takes no time and has his hands cupping your cheeks. Tears staining your beautiful cheeks that he so dearly loved taking his time in kissing and feeling your soft skin against his ring-clad fingers. “I wished I knew you were going through something.” He confessed, sensing a feeling of regret that he felt for not seeing the signs of you feeling depressed and not being your energetic-self. Now as he looks back, he noticed your change of behavior. Being a bit more reserved, but still communicating with him which led him not sensing a shift of you. 

 “You always told me that it was your period messin’ with ya mood. I was so stupid to believe that. Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” 

It’s true. You shared to him that the past couple of months when he would suggest going out to shopping outlets and going out for dinner you would simply reply that you weren’t in the mood to go out in public. That your period was getting the best of you and drained your energy. It was true that you had bad days when you were on your period, but you made him believe that it was your menstrual cycle being the culprit of you feeling drained. 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” You cried out, his hands holding your head as he hugged your frame and landed kisses on your head. 

“It’s okay. I know now that you haven’t been feeling good. Jus’ let me help you, yeah?” Harry looks down at you, your eyes bloodshot as a soft smile creeps up on Harry’s lips. You follow suit and slowly mimic a smile back. 

Harry leads you back to the bedroom and lets you sit on the edge of the bed. “‘M going to start a bath for you. Is that okay?” 

You nod in agreement and he starts turning on the bath faucet, making sure that the water is warm enough to calm your body and hopefully make you feel a bit better. As he is sure that the water is at the right temperature he comes back to the bedroom where you are still sitting on the bed. He kneels in front of you and looks up at you, his hands running up and down your arms gently. 

“The water is almost ready for ya. I’m gonna get those bath bombs you like so much and light up some candles.” He says, reaching towards your head and landing a kiss on your forehead. You softly smile at his action and continue looking at his beautiful eyes that you could never get tired of looking at. 

He goes back to the bathroom and takes a blueberry muffin scented bath bomb and throws it inside the bathtub as he watches the water fizzle and quickly change into a dark blue hue. He then lights up a couple of candles and sets them on the sink cabinet.

He comes back to the bedroom and Harry motions for you to stand up and you do and follow behind him making your way to the bathroom. He’s about to leave you alone in the bathroom for you to get undressed, giving you privacy.

You quickly reach towards his hand and he stops from walking out the bathroom. He looks back at you waiting for you to say something. 

“Stay, please.” You mutter softly. His hand slowly intertwines with yours as he shuts the door behind him and walks towards you. Nodding in agreement as he follows suit and starts undressing. You motion for him to help you unclasp your bra and he quickly does it with ease. 

You step into the warm water and instantly feel the water relieving your tired muscles. You didn’t even realize how tense your muscles were. Harry then follows you and lands both feet on the warm bathtub. He lies down first and motions for you to lie down against his chest. You carefully situate your body close to his and feel his thick thighs wrap around your own legs, his arms wrapping around your mid area. Your breasts touching his forearms. Your skin sinking into the warm embrace of the scented water as you shiver, goosebumps trailing on your skin yet again from the cool air coming from the bathroom. Harry cups his hands into the water and brings it up to splash water on your chest and remaining skin that has yet to make contact with the warm water. You smile from his gentle mannerisms as you lean back into his chest, your head cradling on top of his chest. You look up at him as he smiles down at you, dimples on full display. 

Harry kisses the top of your head and you close your eyes and smile in response. His soft touches always make you feel relaxed.

“You want to talk ‘bout it?” Harry asked, his hands making small circles on your belly.  

“No. But I need to talk about it,” You reply, holding onto his free hand that’s holding onto the tub. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I have been thinking about going back to school. Law school.” You confess, playing with Harry’s fingers and tracing his knuckles.

“That’s exciting, love. I’m happy that you’re thinking about going back to school.” He soothes your belly some more. 

You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze. “Yeah, but I know how much you want to move in together. I want to move in together too, but law school isn’t cheap.” 

“We’ll figure it out together. I can always pick up extra shifts at the tattoo parlor and maybe sell some of my songs on the side.” Harry assures you. 

“But, I don’t want you working too hard for my sake. That’s one of the reasons why I was afraid to tell you this.” You turn your attention back to Harry’s freehand and continue tracing his knuckles. 

Harry catches this and softly tilts your head so he could see your eyes. “Hey, lovie. We’re in this together. If you have dreams of your own I will stand by you and help you achieve those dreams. We’re a team, yeah?” 

You smile up at him. Tears slowly start to blur your vision. You have always been like this. When new problems would arise you would shut-off, you wouldn’t tell anyone about what you were going through and it was hard for you to ask for help. You were that friend that always told people to reach out to you if they were going through something, but that’s the exact thing that you don’t do. Leaving yourself to fend for yourself; self-sabotaging yourself. 

You look away and land your hands on your knees, feeling tears starting to slide down your cheeks again. “I feel like such a loser. Why is this small thing bothering me so much?” You quietly say. 

Harry shifts his body just enough so he could see the state that you’re in. He moves a couple of your wet strands away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. “Hey, don’t call yourself that. You’re not a loser. You’re my beautiful girlfriend who's the strongest person I’ve ever known.” 

Pfft. “Strong?” You repeat, feeling an urge of disgust with yourself. 

“Hey, whatever you’re feeling, we’ll get through it together. You’re strong for sharing what you’re going through.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Harry.” You turn your head and stare at his eyes. Wanting to feel his lips against yours.

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses your shoulder and notices how your gaze looks at his lips. He meets your eyes and leans close to kiss your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his body closer to yours, feeling his body heat. Your arms run down his tattooed arm and leave his lips wishing for more as you start kissing his swallows on his chest. 

He brings your face close to his. “We’ll do this together, lovie. I promise.” He says through kisses, kissing every crevice of your face, making you smile from his facial hair tickling your skin. 

As you two finish up bathing and drying your bodies and changing into clean clothes; you started to feel better. You weren’t sure if it was because you finally told Harry what you were going through, or if it was because you had Harry with you being that only person to see you at your lowest and comforting you. You didn’t know, but you felt good.

You both get ready for bed. Harry finishes brushing his teeth and putting a serum on his face that you recommended him to try. You lay down on the bed waiting for Harry to walk into the bedroom. He discards his shirt and throws it somewhere in the bedroom. Thinking about that in the morning he’s going to be looking for that garment all morning. The thought of it makes you smile. 

Harry walks to the bed and lies down. He motions you to climb on him and you do as you carefully situate one of your legs to be between one his legs. You look at him to check if he looks comfortable.

“Is this okay?” You asked, he nods and slides a hand under your shirt, his hand running up and down your back. He kisses the crook of your neck. You lie your head on his chest and hear his heart beating in a steady rhythm. With the thumping of Harry’s heart you begin drifting off into sleep. 

“Goodnight, lovie.” Harry whispers to you. But you were already out. Harry takes it as a clue that you have already called it a night when you didn’t respond back. He smiles to himself and continues running his hands over your back, feeling your body relax to his soft touch.

That night was the first night that you felt good, happy even. You felt relieved, this was one of the first nights that you slept through the whole night. You didn’t wake up to a nightmare clouding your unconscious mind. You had Harry next to you, hugging your body, feeling his warm breath hit the crevices of your neck, feeling his arms wrapped around you as if you were his only safe haven.

The next day…

“You want me to be there with you while you fill out the college application?” Harry asks you as he takes a sip of his tea. 

You hold the mug of freshly brewed coffee and smell the vanilla hazelnut creamer and instantly making you melt. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course. I want to be in every step of the college process, if you let me.”

“I would love that, Harry.” You smile as you set down your mug. 

“Okay, my love,” Harry kisses the top of your head and whispers "I love you” to you. “I’m going to get something for us to eat. I’ll be right back.” He takes his wallet and spare keys into one hand and leans towards you where you sit in the kitchen island. “Kissy?” 

Kissy. A cute little phrase that you would both ask each other to ask for permission for a kiss. A phrase that started since you two were dating for five months. A little phrase that was childish, but you both didn’t care. It was cute. 

You smile up at him. As you took another sip of your coffee, then another one. Teasing Harry as a pout started to appear on his face. He then started blinking his eyes furiously making you stop drinking from your mug. He got you there.

“Kissy.” You lean over to him and kiss him. You cup his cheek and run your freehand into his hair. He moaned into your touch making you smile in response. 

“I’ll be back, yeah?” 

“Okay. I love you Harry.” 

“I love you.” 

He walks out the door with his spare keys being the only thing you hear as he makes his way down the corridor. Leaving you alone with your mug of coffee half-way filled in front of you. You walk to the living room and grab the laptop that was on top of the coffee table and bring it back to the kitchen island. You set it there and wait. You stare at the black screen of the laptop as your reflection looks back at you. You continue taking small sips of your coffee and wait until Harry comes back. 

////////

“Hey, darlin’ I got your favorite snacks and lunch from that Vietnamese restaurant you like.” Harry enters into the small apartment and takes you by surprise. You were reading a book that you always put off. He walked towards you and set the bags of food on the kitchen island in front of you. 

“Are you ready, lovie?” 

As time passed you completed the university application and stopped yourself to double check on every detail that you added on the application. You felt nervous, anxious about completing the whole college application process, but you knew that it was going to be worth it in the end. You were glad that you had Harry with you filling the application, because you wouldn’t have had the courage to fill it out on your own. You were happy that you were accompanied and had his support. Harry didn’t ignore the anxiety and the way that you would play with your fingers while filling out the online application. This was a lot for you and he understood that you needed a well-deserved break. 

“Hey baby, take a small break,” Harry grabs the laptop and closes it, but making sure that he saved the application before doing so. “Here, get some foodsies.” Harry passes you the large bowl filled with your favorite pho. 

You take a mouthful of the delicious seasoned soup and sigh as you feel the warmth of the soup comforting your body, leaving you in a relaxed state. “Thank you my love,” you take a napkin and wipe the corners of your mouth. “I missed pho so much.” 

Harry smiles in response as he takes a bite of his own pho. He sits closer to you as his knees touch yours. He gave you frequent glances as a way to know that you were eating well and keeping note of your reactions. You were comfortable which made him happy. 

The night went along well. You finished applying for the university and only waited to get a response back. A couple of weeks it would take before you would get a response. So you continued going to the bookstore and you were starting to share more things with Harry, something that you didn’t do before. You shared more about your past, your family. He knew about your parents and other closer family members, but you never went into depth with other important people that you grew up with back home. You were happy to share more of your life with Harry. 

You both spent more time with each other more often. If you called Harry that you were feeling down, Harry would drop what he was doing and quickly get to your apartment as fast as he could. If you were on your period and Harry knew about it he would stay the whole week to make sure that you were taking care of yourself and to obviously spoil you. Just because flowers were his favorite habit of showing you that he loved you and would randomly gift you little crochet stuffies from a local independent shop. He eventually got you so many that you were running out of spaces where to put them, but you loved every little crochet plushie, they were just so cute! 

The more time that you spent with Harry you hadn’t picked up a cigarette. After Harry found out that you were smoking to relieve what you were feeling he didn’t judge or tell you that you had to stop smoking. Instead, he didn’t mention it, but acknowledged that it was something that you picked up when you were feeling depressed. So, you were grateful that he was there with you along the way of you figuring out how to slowly stop smoking. 

Weeks later…

And so you waited two weeks. In those two weeks a lot happened. Harry was getting his stuff ready to officially move in with you. Nothing much happened, just helping Harry move in his boxes and get him situated in your now shared apartment. He was excited to start living with you and as he said it “Happy to wake up next to my lovie every mornin’.” You were ecstatic to live with Harry, and, well, he already was living in your apartment when he would stay some nights, but this was going to be different. You were going to wake up next to him every morning and being grumpy on Saturday mornings because Harry would wake you to go on morning runs. On a Saturday out of all days! But you were getting too used to him living in your shared space.

Later that week you received an acceptance letter from the university that you applied at. When Harry came to the apartment from work that same day you told him out of excitement. He hugged you tight and gave you so many kisses that overwhelmed you, but you didn’t care you were too happy. The following week you spent a whole week getting school supplies. Harry came along of course picking out the most random things that he swore that you would use in college. Who needs three white boards and two big packs of big sticky notes? You were content in getting one white board and one big sticky note pack just to make Harry feel better. 

“But you’re gonna need two of ‘em, lovie.” 

You chuckle at his antics, “Why two Harry? I just need one.” 

Harry stares down at the plastic covered white board in his hands. “Cause ya gonna need to jot down our date nights. You can’t fit everythin’ on one white board.” He reminds you.

“Bubba, one is enough.” 

You take the white board and pack of stickies with you along with some other supplies. Harry followed behind as he kept putting in colorful markers and journaling stickers in the cart. He definitely made that shopping trip amusing. And you loved every moment of it. 

Four years later…

You sat at every class lecture and followed along what the professors talked about. You were present, you were dedicated and it paid off. There were times where you had breakdowns because of the workload that law school brought to you and it was a lot to handle. The anxiety that was kept at bay was slowly creeping onto you during those troubling school semesters that were always heavy with coursework, but you always had Harry there to guide you through breathing techniques. It was a lot, but you were happy that you were pushing through those semesters for you, for your future and Harry’s. You were proud all those days that you showed up to class prepared to learn the material and to later take the bar exams.

Those four years really did pay off. Cap and gown on and a smile on your face as you waited for your name to be called on the intercom. You walked onto stage as you had the urge to cry, but you stopped yourself because you knew that this was your moment. You were ecstatic that you finally met your goal. Going to school and having Harry and your close family members with you during this long journey. Happy that you were no longer alone… well, you were never alone, but you finally knew what it felt to let people in, let people care about you and let them hear your struggles. You were no longer suffering in silence. You were now walking down the stage with a diploma in your hand, holding onto your biggest achievement and you were excited to see what the future held for you. You knew that whatever life would bring you, you would no longer fight it alone, because you had people and you were no longer going to struggle in silence.

[wingzie]

The Definition of Jikook: Through Others Eyes

“Becca, how would you define Jikook?” In the last few months I have been asked this several times. And not by Jikookers. Since my bad experiences with offline events, I decided (in typical “me” fashion) to just throw myself out there and keep moving forward. This included joining more Twitter GC’s or Discord Servers and going to more offline events. In one of the most recent events, I lived locally and wanted to help. Therefore, I offered to escort some anxious Army from the train station to the venue.

Anyway, I was still cautious about going and, though there were a few odd moments, the event went really well overall. Something else kindled during this event that I did not expect: The desire to talk more about jikook. Before, even mentioning Jikook as a unit and not as Jimin and Jungkook was almost seen as a taboo. Especially compared to the other units that we are familiar with. Due to me no longer giving a damn and using my main twitter account, people relating to the event knew who I was and they had questions. Very interesting questions. About Jikook. About their enlistment. About the travel show. This was a pleasant surprise and it shocked me that some of these people already knew quite a lot without me telling them anything. Including some information that I thought was only in the Jikook circles. I asked one person why they didn’t talk about Jikook as much on Twitter and they said because they were scared with all the shipper fights. Which is quite valid really. If all you see whenever Jikook is mentioned is constant fighting, then you would distance yourself. It made me realise something though: 

Even if someone isn’t talking about Jikook. They are still watching and are very much aware of what is going on.

Sometimes we amplify the wrong things and we give the loudest voices to the negative comments. When I do the Live Reactions series, I will sometimes have hundreds of positive screenshots to go through and then(somehow) pick twenty-five of them for the thread. It was really interesting to see so many people talking about Jungkook going Live whenever Jimin went overseas or about the travel show. It also reminded some of moments that were sadly forgotten about.

This touches on something else too. Our traditions as a fandom have somewhat changed. With the removal of the social media awards, we no longer boost BTS’ history like we used to. Elon has also changed how we find content, with the removal of “moments” and advanced searching now being really difficult to find things. There is still hope though. With Jin’s return, it was lovely to see so many asking about Jin as a person or how Festa would work. Sharing old memories and watching Bang Bang Con together added so much value to our experiences together as a fandom.It’s something we should treasure. 

BTS have shared so much with us and it’s why I’ll forever be thankful for archive accounts. With every post or comment shared with others, we encourage them to learn more about the members or to watch content they may not have seen before. I experienced this myself when I mentioned Bon Voyage to someone who didn’t know what it was. They had only watched “In the Soop” and were excited by the concept of the members going abroad together. I hope they enjoy it!

Going back to Jikook, I have seen an increase of positive engagement surrounding them. This includes in both online and offline spaces. It makes me excited for when the travel show comes out and the conversations it will create, with so many already floating around. When I am asked how I define them myself, I try to turn it around. It doesn’t matter what I think about Jikook or how I define them. That should be obvious by my account. What matters is how others do and the respect that it holds.

[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.7

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffy, not proofread,

author's note: Hey lovies, I've had so much fun writing this series. I'm very happy that so many people like my writing. I'm trying to improve always in my English skills so I hope they are good. I hope you love this finale as much as I do, enjoy...

word count: 1.1k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

There he was standing at the entrance not even willing to listen to what you had to say. Miguel holding up his hand for you to stop taking was like a smack in the face. You had basically confessed to him, confirming the verity of the contents of your voicemail, and his response was for you to stop?

"Come here Baby," he muttered in a low tone. You slowly and cautiously walked up to him. You faced him where he stood right in front of the entrance.

"Look up," he commanded gently.

Then you saw it. The reason for him running back into the store. The reason why he wouldn't even walk all the way into the store to speak to you about your confession. Those bright green leaves with the red ribbon. He had planned it all. Of course he did, you were both standing under the mistletoe. The very mistletoe hat had gotten his hair caught in all the time. The very mistletoe you had both stood under together staring at each other once; before awkwardly dispersing. Only this time Miguel had brought you here.

"Someone told me once, that they were a great kisser, but I lacked the holiday cheer to get a smooch," he started causing you to giggle at the reference. He held intimate eye contact with you while pulling you closer by your waist. "Kiss me, Baby," he muttered.

And so you did. You got on your tippy toes and kissed him. It was short and sweet. But too prompt for Miguel's liking; he had been waiting far too long to kiss you. So he cupped your cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

His kiss was like a mix of want and need, and you could practically taste the craving. Your heart was doing a marathon, keeping up with the rhythm of his passionate kiss, like a beat that had a mind of its own. His hands, calloused and warm, traced the contours of your face, leaving a trail of sensation that burned like the touch of a summer sun. In that stolen moment, it was like the world outside had just disappeared, and you were caught up in this whirlwind of feelings where the line between you and him was blurred. The scent of his cologne mingled with the raw scent of shared breaths, creating a symphony that encapsulated the intensity of the connection. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that fervent embrace, you were enveloped in the sweet frenzy of a kiss that transcended the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. Your face immediately heated up thinking about what had just conspired between the two of you. "That was—" Miguel started.

"—magical" you sighed as you turned into putty in his arms.

"I'm really happy you chose to send that voicemail. I was thinking the same thing as you. I just didn't know how to tell you without scaring you away. I'd rather live with my feelings for you haunting me than lose you as a friend," he confessed.

You suddenly wrapped your arms around him resting your head against his chest. He hugged you back rubbing your back with his big hand. You both pulled away to look at each other with the comfortable silence embracing the two of you. "It's already so late, would you like to stay over?" you asked as you fidgeted with your hair.

"Yes I would love to," he replied.

The two of you went straight to bed that night. After taking your shower you sat up on your bed waiting for him to come out, while processing everything that had happened. You were fatigued but you wanted to wait for him to hold you like he had before. Your eyes were practically shut but were trying your hardest to stay awake.

The bathroom door finally swung open and Miguel walked into your bedroom to see you struggling to stay awake. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked as he walked over to the bed. You nodded your head and spread your arms out waiting for him to come and cuddle. He cuddled at your cute action. Just then you felt part of the bed sink in, compelling you to mile softly.

You could feel his presence even when he wasn't touching you yet. He finally took you in his arms and laid you down against him. You rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. It was slow and relaxing.

There was something different about the night. Miguel was running his hand through your hair and patting your head. All you could feel was an incredible sense of warmth. For once you didn't feel cold in bed. Maybe all you needed to cure your sensitivity to the cold was someone to hold you at night.

For the first time in forever, you slept in complete peace. Wholly protected from the cold by Miguel.

The next morning Miguel left for work with a hot black coffee, a muffin, and a kiss. Even the neighbors picked up on how upbeat you were feeling that day.

The following night while you sat at your shop waiting for Miguel to walk through the doors you couldn't help but fantasize about your blooming relationship with him. Your love life was finally blooming into something beautiful and—JINGLE! JINGLE! You looked up to see Miguel walking in with a grin.

"Welcome to Mug & Muffin, what can I make you tonight?" you asked looking up at him with a sweet smile.

"Could I get a kiss from a smokin' hot barista?" he quipped.

You ran around the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck to give him a kiss. You kissed him like you hadn't seen him in years. He suddenly lifted you up onto the counter and trapped you between his arms. You squealed and giggled hitting his shoulder playfully. He rubbed circles in his hips slowly and kissed you sweet and slow. He kissed you sweet and slow and you felt the world around you melt away. "Alright that's enough, I made you a drink," you said.

You hopped off the counter, got your own drink, and sat at his favorite table with him. You couldn't help but feel the warmth of the love that had blossomed between you and Miguel inside the warm confines of your coffee shop as you both sat there, enjoying your Christmas brews.

Next Sequel: Sweet Tooth...

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent@lotionlamp@local-mr-frog@scaleniusrm@migueloharastruelove@thedevax@veyveys @amber-content@3zae-zae3@simmerarmy

[666writingcafe]

Level Two

Dedicated to @ehejhrhrhrht-blog

Content Warning/Summary: MC literally gets thrown, Beel acts like a predator, biting

Your next session is in the twins' room. Prepare for a crash landing.

If I was a rational human being, I would have stopped the test after passing the first stage. The fact that I managed to resist one of the oldest demons in existence should be more than enough for me to get rewarded the star of chastity. I could have put this whole thing behind me and relaxed the rest of the evening.

But I tend to get tunnel vision when it comes to completing tasks. Even if I get incredibly frustrated, I hate stopping before I'm finished with something. I want to see it through to the end. It helps boost my confidence.

And so this silly little lamb walks up the stairs and stops in front of the door leading to the twins' bedroom.

Out of mere habit, I knock on the door. There have been too many incidents of me stumbling into something that I wasn't meant to see for me not to. Usually, there's some sort of response. Either "come in" or "Give me a minute" or even "I'm busy".

Not this time. Instead, I get radio silence.

Is it too late to back out? Surely, they'd understand me getting cold feet, right?

Don't be a coward. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?

Despite knowing that hardly anything good comes out of that question, I find myself opening the bedroom door. The next few seconds go by in a blur as I'm yanked up off the ground and sent flying across the room. As soon as my back hits the headboard of the the bed, I'm caged in by a body towering over me.

"I could eat you right now." Judging by the ravenous look in Beel's eyes, I think he means that literally. And not in a sexy way, either.

"Please don't." I feel stupid saying that, but it slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Beel chuckles, sounding harsher than usual.

"Well, of course not, MC. That would ruin half the fun." He forcibly tilts my head and licks down the side of my neck before biting down on it. Hard. I cry out in pain, but he ignores me as he begins sucking.

A warm feeling courses through my body, and it takes a lot of willpower for me to not allow it to control me. I have to look for an opening, and quickly.

Thankfully, one arrives when Beel lets go of me and begins repositioning himself, creating just enough space for me to roll off the bed.

"Playing hard to get, are we?" he asks, smiling menacingly at me. "I've always enjoyed a good hunt."

I nearly leap off to the side as Beel launches himself at me. His disorientation from hitting the wall is brief, but it's enough time for me to run over to Belphie's side of the room.

Something tells me that in order to pass this level, I have to find the note myself. I can't just ask Beel to hand it to me; that'd be too easy. I begin looking through Belphie's things, occasionally pausing to throw things at Beel to slow his progress.

My search turns up nothing. I stop moving momentarily as I think about where else the note might be, and Beel seizes his opportunity. Picking me up, he nearly slams me against the wall, once again pinning me in place with his body.

"Got you," he growls, resuming his attack on my neck. My hands grab wrap around his waist in an attempt to remain upright, and I feel something brush against my side.

Of course. His jacket.

One pocket contains a bunch of hard candy. I have more success with the other. Plucking the note out of it, I let go of him, allowing myself to side down to the floor.

Beel's eyes flicker towards the note I'm holding, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he steps back.

"Thank goodness," he murmurs. "I wasn't sure how much more you'd be able to take." He kneels down in front of me, still keeping his distance. "You had no idea how shocked I was when Asmo told me about this particular daydream of yours. I used to act animalistic in order to scare people, not to attract them." I shrug.

"I think it stems from me wishing that you wouldn't view me as being fragile," I explain. "I know that by being human, that makes me weaker than demons and angels, but that doesn't mean that I don't have any strength. I'm not going to shatter into a million pieces if you want to act more roughly towards me from time to time." He sighs again, sounding more weary this time.

"I know. You're one of the strongest people I know. I just don't want to do anything to permanently hurt you. You mean too much to me for me to do that with a clear conscience." He gets up off the floor and walks over to his bed, opening one of his bedside drawers and pulling out a bag of chips and a bottle of water.

"Here," he states, returning over to me and handing the items over to me before starting to pick up the mess I made on Belphie's side of the room.

"Do you need any help?" I ask.

"I got it, MC. Just focus on recovering."

[ladykettlechips]

It's Not That Deep

Being kind is a choice. Sadly, so is being a dick.

I absolutely adore being part of a community where I can share my passion with others, be it as a writer of fanfic or simply a bystander. However, there are also downsides to being within a community, and sadly, it is other people who can ruin that joy and our experience of creating something for other fans, who want to devour content while a series is still being created, or has come to an end.

It seems like it is a frequent thing for a handful of people to ruin the fandom experience for others. They become anonymous or hide behind a name in order to actively go out of their way to harass creators within the community. There have been threats and vile accusations thrown about, and for what? To scare people off of AO3 and tumblr, just because you don't like something they created for a FICTIONAL character within a FICTIONAL setting?

Loves, it's not that deep.

Sadly, these kinds of people have run creators off of various apps and websites with their continued harassment. They have gone above and beyond to act horrible towards people they don't know, for a story or a piece of artwork they could have clicked the back button on. For something THEY can actively turn their back on and ignore.

If they had as much passion and energy for real world issues, their time would be much better spent. Instead, they have chosen to take a cowards route and harass other people online for something that is, in truth, insignificant to them. It is as if these people are consciously ignoring tags or warnings, because they WANT to start a fight and act in such a disgusting manner.

I can't understand it, really. Your time is much better spent doing things you enjoy, rather than coming after people who are doing the things that they enjoy.

Now, if the creators were actively promoting bad things, then yes, call them out on it or report them. Half the time though, these creators put disclaimers about how they don't promote certain things, but it is there for fictional purposes.

Our time and energy is precious, and for those taking time out of their hectic schedules to share their passion with us is a wonderful gift. Yet there are those who want to destroy that passion, and it is a sad thing when they win; sadly, cruelty often trumps kindness, and I have seen one too many creators fall to the whims of people who prefer to be dicks over being kind.

I would hope these people eventually see some sense and stop what they are doing, but trolls don't always see reason or see the light. I just hope that someday they get the hug they have been craving, or perhaps the talk they need to understand why they act like this. Until then:

It's not that deep.

It's not that serious.

It is FICTION, not reality.

Your favourites won't notice you regardless of how hostile you become.

You are not making the internet a better place with your harassment.

Have a hug, eat a snickers. I highly doubt you'd act like this in real life to people you know, or to someone else's face, so go have a nap and chill a bit. Don't make a mountain of a molehill, and remember that these fictional characters you are getting into a tizzy over are not real.

Thanks. Peace out.

Edit to add: I have yet to be harassed. I know it will happen one day, because it is inevitable at this point, but I am speaking out for my friends and fellow writers who have sadly experienced it.

[khaire-traveler]

Hi, there! First of anything, I hope you had a wonderful day!

I have a question that could be kinda personal so please, feel free to not answer if you do not wish to. The main reason I'm asking you this is because you're one of my current fav blogs.

Could you share us how did you started to post here? And what made you take the decision to share your thoughts and experiences?

I've been wanting to start a blog about my practice lately, but I'm so scared of doing things wrong in the aspect of being disrespectful due to lack of information.

Thank you so much in advance! ✨

Hey, Nonny!

I don't mind the questions at all! I'm glad to hear you like my blog. c:

This response is a bit long, so I'm going to add "read more".

I forget how long ago I started this blog, but I believe it's been at least one year now? It may be two, but I'm unsure. I had a blog before this one that posted similar content. It wasn't as "popular", and at the time when I ran that other blog, I was healing through a lot of trauma. I deleted that blog due to some unsavory people I had met there; it just became too overwhelming at that time.

After about a year and a half, I created this blog. I missed having a community to talk to about my religion, even if no one really interacted with me. No one in my life, at that time, followed my religion, and if they did, they didn't worship any of the same gods. I wanted to have others to talk to that I could share my love for the gods with. I wanted to share some lessons I had learned, too. I felt a lot more ready to run a blog about my religion. It felt safer to do so, and I was much more confident in my practice than I had been. My relationships with my gods had grown, and so had I. Finally, my dear companion, @broomsick , inspired me to create this blog and rejoin Tumblr.

I was actually very hesitant to share my experiences again at the start. On my first blog, some people had weaponized my experiences against me and fueled some major anxiety issues I had at the time. So on this blog, I was very careful with what I shared. Frankly, I still am, but I'm much more open to sharing things I've experienced than I was.

My advice to you is to keep some things sacred and hold them close to your heart. It makes those experiences all the more special when you don't feel pressured to share them with others. My next advice is to start by sharing your random thoughts about your gods and experiences. It might sound silly, but over time, I've found that people enjoy hearing what others have to say. Many things I've posted here have grown alongside my real-life practice. Even now, I'll sometimes come across an older post of mine and see my progress. It's very encouraging when you're able to look back at how far you've come. Another piece of advice I have for you is to post for yourself, not for others. Make sure what you're posting are things you genuinely enjoy sharing, things that you actually want to post. Never feel pressured to post things you don't want to post simply because someone else requests it.

The most important advice of all that I have is for you to do it, and do it scared. It makes you nervous? Go for it anyway. You'll never know what it'll be like until you try. Taking risks is a difficult thing to do, but you could have so many wonderful experiences if you choose to take them, and even though this is just Tumblr, there's no telling what kind of connections and discoveries you could make by creating that blog! If you're new, that's great! Share what you're learning as you learn it, and as I mentioned above, you can look back and see how far you've come in the future and feel proud of it. I don't think it's disrespectful to share your thoughts and experiences, even if you realize you were wrong later on. Your practice will grow as you become more and more comfortable with it, and it's only natural that we say things now that we disagree with later. When we grow, we change, and so do our beliefs.

I say to give it a try and see if you enjoy posting! If not, you can always change your mind. It doesn't have to be a permanent decision.

I hope this answered your questions well. I also hope that the advice I shared is helpful to you. Take care, Nonny, and may you have fun on your new adventure, wherever it takes you! 🧡

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Hey Stritzo anon here, I know it’s been a month since I’ve summited smth here but I rly feel safe here along with other ppl. If I “dare” reblog anything Stritzo on my tumblr or even write an AU abt them on my AO3, I’d def get harassed or possibly doxxed by the Stolitz dickriders… that’s how goddamn paranoid these stans make me... I may be somewhat of a hardass but even I get scared of unexpected stalking and harassment… Especially from toxic ass communities that continue to support awful ppl. I mean, have y’all heard of the many scary stalker/harassment stories from ppl?

*sigh* clicking onto the anti-Vivziepop tags made me glad I didn’t buy any shit from her merch store years ago! I feel terrible for the ppl who prepaid the playbook but a year has gone… This is why I’m anti prepaid when it comes to paid content cuz you might never know the approximate date of arrival... Like, freemium prepaid/predownloads at least had the decency to post their release dates!

And even if a character wasn’t the most liked, creating hate merch is immature as hell, which parallels D/A hate content and character bashing fics. (Mind you, characters from viv’s stuff or other even from other series who didn’t do much wrong yet got the short end of the stick by the rabid dogs…)

But! One friend I know is more reasonable than the other when it comes to fiction! I’m glad that she wasn’t as brainwashed as that other friend I’ve mentioned before. She admits the flaws and such despite consuming Hazbin/Helluva sometimes? At least she’s one of those ppl who can still enjoy a product but is still willing to criticize it instead of being a mindless sheep.

Unlike her, I just mostly or totally butt out for my own sanity when canon gets too awful, not just crazy toxicity happening in RL and badly written fanfiction that has no trigger warnings or overall plot structure. And I mostly shut my mouth in case the rabid dogs come after my ass, online or RL.

As long as she and I don’t bitch about each other’s fictional preferences (including romantic ships of any series we’re familiar with). Or talk shit behind one another’s backs to others about said ships or how we are as people, we’re good.

I am glad ypu can vent because in my opinion it's good to have that space to do so without judgement.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Frostfire

Created two OCs who accidentally ended up being rather...into each other...the brainrot is real. I'll go about posting their profiles once I've fleshed them out, just needed to get the brainrot (and need to headpat them) out

Ren's fingertips brush over his staff tucked away beneath his cloak, reassuring him that his weapon is still there as he and Calix walk down the busy alleyway of Night Plaza. Even after having been here so many times, Ren doesn't feel the slightest bit relaxed walking through anywhere in the Night Plaza. Calix, on the other hand, looks as carefree as ever.

“Come on, come on, don't look so stiff! Take in the sights, the atmosphere, and if anyone tries anything well…we both know what will happen. We're the strongest after all!” Calix grins at him. The other half-Fey's hands are clasped behind his head as he turns backwards to look Ren in the eye.

Ren sighs, “we're on a mission that Dave deemed important enough to send the both of us. Shouldn't you be at least a little bit concerned?”

“Nah, he trusts us to get it done. Might as well enjoy ourselves while we're at it!” Calix laughs, grabbing Ren's wrist. “Come on! Let's check out that new store!”

Ren lets himself be dragged along by the younger half-Fey, remembering a time when Calix was the quietest member of Dave's Justiciars. The half-Fey's face had been clouded in anger, brilliant dark green eyes narrowed as he scowled, declaring he needed no friends when Ren had tried to talk to him and then stormed off to his room. To think that had been Calix only ten years ago, the mere thought brought a smile to Ren's face.

“What are ya smiling about? Share it!” Calix's face is suddenly far too close for Ren's comfort and he takes a step back.

“Come onnnnn! Tell me!” Who knew Calix was actually this energetic, no one could have guessed that the half-Fey who could always be seen heading to the training room by himself late at night was actually like this past his shell.

“Nothing.” Ren waves him off. “Didn't you want to check the new store?”

“Oh right, yes. The new store. This way!” Calix resumes his happy little detour and Ren quietly follows. Dave had given them more time than necessary to complete the mission anyways, a little detour wouldn't hurt anyone.

The new store turns out to be a new weapons store that had just set up shop today. After checking the owner's permit, Ren lets Calix browse to his heart's content while he observes the store owner, watching the way they carefully handle the knives as they explain to Calix how the knife was made.

Calix looks like a child when he fawns over the knife, Ren thinks. Nothing like the broody teenager facade he usually puts up. He's cute when he smiles like that, if only he smiled more often and around more people, then he wouldn't be scaring everyone off. He'd actually have more friends than just me, and it'd benefit him. I wish other people could see how adorable he is when he's —

" —en! Ren!"

"Huh?"

"Weren't ya listening? Ah asked which one ya prefer!" Calix pouts, holding out two knives. Ren looks them over, they're both pretty but the sapphire embedded into the hilt of the one on the right complements Calix's eyes, so he picks that knife.

"I'll take this one then!" He turns to the store owner who thanks him for his purchase and heads to the back of his store.

"Let's go then, Ren! Ah can't wait to try this new toy out!" Calix happily waves his new knife before sheathing it, patting its hilt. "We'll tear through everyone together!"

Together. If you had asked Calix to work with anyone back then, he'd have rejected the work right there and then, asking for another job instead where he could work alone. To think that Calix would casually agree to work with him, heck even ask him to join him for the job, Ren huffs in amusement and follows the overeager half-Fey to the house where their target lives.

Calix follows the map to a run-down house tucked away in the corner of a dark alleyway. Ren gives the perimeter a quick glance, ensuring that there are no threats in the area while Calix knocks on the door.

"Hello, anyone there?" Calix yells impatiently after a few seconds of silence. "Hello?"

"Calix —"

"Hmph, we come all the way here and yet get zero hospitality. Wha kinda client is this person anyways?" Calix pouts. "Why does Dave even need the both of us, can't he just send one of his lackeys? I'd rather be doing anything else!"

Ren's hand shifts to rest on his staff as a chill crawls up his spine. This isn't good in the slightest, his instincts are screaming at him to fight, but there's no enemy in sight. Calix is still angrily rambling at the closed door, seemingly oblivious to the bloodlust in the air but the little twitches of the fingers on his left hand say otherwise.

The signal for look up.

Ren's gaze flicks upwards discreetly, spotting a figure darting across the rooftop of the house next door and inclines his head. Calix scowls at the door and taps the hilt of his new knife three times.

Three enemies spotted.

"We're here on behalf of Mr Dave to discuss some terms with Mr Jakob. You see, Mr Dave would like to sell more drinks of the gods to Mr Jakob, but he is not running a charity. Debts must be paid in full and on time." Ren states calmly, tapping his pant leg another three times.

Six enemies total.

Six enemies are nothing for the duo, they've faced worse odds before and emerged victorious. Ren is confident in their skills, what he's worried about is ensuring Mr Jakob is alive at the end of the fight, especially when a Human answers the door.

The Human has grey mixed in with his dark brown hair, and Ren can see the slight bulges in his jacket pockets where guns most certainly lie. Well, if anything, this should be fun. He hasn't had a real challenge in years.

A quick glance to his right tells him that Calix is also rearing to go, but is waiting patiently for his signal. Ren feels a sense of pride surge through him, the younger half-Fey has come a long way in terms of self-restraint, speaking volumes of how much he has grown.

"Mr Jakob has stated that he will deliver the payment next week. Disturbing his rest for a matter that has already been laid to rest is nothing short of rude." The Human says. "My men will escort you out of the premise."

Calix snorts in response, "more like attempt to escort us tah the next life."

The Human raises an eyebrow, amused and turns to leave, closing the door behind him but one of Calix's knives slots itself into the gap between the door and its hinge, preventing the door from fully closing.

"Hey. We ain't done talking yet." He growls. "Ah have one more question to ask."

"Ask away." The Human doesn't even bother to turn around to face Calix, a fatal mistake.

"How do ya wanna die?" The words come out as a snarl and Ren readies himself for a fight.

"Die? Shouldn't I be —" The Human's words get lodged in his throat, pinned there by a knife with a sapphire embedded hilt and everyone springs into action.

The sound of a gun being fired sounds to Ren's left and he expertly diverts the bullet's trajectory with a simple sweep of his staff before swinging the bottom end outwards, striking the stomach on the enemy approaching him on the right. The goon stumbles back with a grunt of surprise but doesn't get a chance to recover before Calix's knife tears open their throat.

The half-Fey sends Ren a smirk, "two," and darts off to get his third kill. Ren feels the fire of competition roaring in his chest and his next strike splits open the skull of his opponent. He won't lose to Calix, he's the older one and needs to set an example.

Calix, meanwhile, grins as he dodges a bullet, sending a fireball forward before leaping towards the flames, slicing open the forearm of the grunt holding the fired gun with the dagger in his left hand while parrying the wild shortsword strike from the other grunt caught in the flames. The familiar thrill of combat floods through his veins as time begins to slow, allowing him to run his fingers along the flat length of the shortsword and set it alight before stabbing the shortsword's wielder in the ribs. The wielder cries out in pain, a sound that delights Calix's acute hearing and uses what's left of his strength to swing the now flaming shortsword in Calix's direction.

The half-Fey clicks his tongue and tries to move out of the way, but the wielder grabs the hand that is still holding onto the knife tightly and Calix nearly doesn't make it out unscathed, saved by a staff covered in ice.

"You really need to think about the consequences of each move." The staff's owner deadpans, sweeping his staff in an arc to shoot a row of icicles at the other grunt who has switched his gun hand to his uninjured side.

"Haven't died yet." Calix simply grins, ripping his knife out of the body. Ren rolls his eyes and Calix shoots a flameshot in his direction, the flames barely grazing silvery-white hair. It does, however, incinerate the enemy behind, killing him before a single shot can be fired.

"Yet," Ren reminds him as lightning crackles in the sky above.

"Bout time a Mage showed up." Calix twirls his knives. "I'll go get mah new toy back, kill the Mage and come back fast enough to steal ya remaining kill. See ya!"

With that, the far more reckless half-Fey disappears, leaving Ren alone with a spear-wielding Fey.

"How nice of him," Ren quips sarcastically, grip tightening on his staff. Still, it was nice of Calix to let him have the Fey not the Mage. Killing Fey was more his thing than Calix's since he constantly strove to prove that magic wasn't everything to a Fey. Most Fey, heck most half-Fey had more affinity for magic than he did, but as if he was going to let such a measly fact stop him from being the strongest. He'd rise up in the world with his staff wielding skills combined with the little ice magic he had. He'd been training, sparring with Calix, using the scuffles his jobs included as more practice, and now he was far stronger than when he left his tribe. They were the weaklings now, and he would show them all that.

"Come on then, or are you scared of a mere half-Fey?" Ren beckons the Fey forward with his index finger, a smirk decorating his face. The Fey's features twist into one filled with disgust, a look Ren is long used to, and the Fey spits at his feet.

"Your kind sullies our blood with the sickening filth that is Human blood, it's the very reason why our kind has been tainted!" The Fey charges forward, spear tip pointed at Ren who calmly smiles back, gaze as cold as ice.

"Tainted? How exactly, may I ask?" He sidesteps the thrust, feeling the cooling wind on his face and thrusts his own staff at the Fey, who barely manages to lean away from his strike.

"You're the very product of a tainted marriage! I can't stand the sight of your kind!" A powerful gust of wind is shot at Ren but he quickly spins his staff in front of him, feeling the chilly hints of his ice magic crawling up his forearms before sprouting forth to create an ice wall that splits the gust in two, sending each part roaring past him.

Without hesitation, Ren darts forward, ducking beneath a wind slice and brings his staff upwards, aimed right at the Fey's chin. His blue and yellow heterochromatic eyes burn with a cold fury unlike the usual calm and stoic look as he slams his staff as hard as he can into the Fey, sending them stumbling backwards.

Ren had to give the Fey some credit, they still tried to squeeze in an attack with their spear despite being on the back foot but it's not enough. He jumps over the sweeping spear, bringing his staff downwards hard on his opponent's head with a sickening crack. The Fey snarls in pain and fury, blood dripping from the top of their head, dyeing their golden hair crimson but Ren doesn't give them any time to breathe.

His staff is a blur of brown, striking over and over again like a serpent while the Fey struggles to defend, made harder by the blood that drips occasionally into their eyes and when Ren remembers to breathe again, the Fey is lying dead on the floor. His own blood drips steadily onto the stones beneath his feet from a gash in his side.

Struggling to bring his breathing under control once more, Ren tries to blink the world back into focus, the corners of his eyes blurring from hot tears. Shit. He feels his body start to tip forward, his staff unable to support him anymore when a pair of bloody arms catch him.

"Dyin on me already?"

"Not. Yet." Ren pants, fingernails digging into the arm supporting him as he pushes himself upright.

"Sure sounds like it to me." Calix flashes him a cheeky grin, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm.

"As. If. I'd die. Before you." Ren wipes his forehead, blinking away the remaining tears. "I said I'd outlive you."

"Keep on dreamin." Calix lets Ren lean on his shoulder anyways, guiding the older half-Fey back to The Last Drop. Ren lets his head rest against Calix's, inhaling the familiar scent of ash and blood that Calix exudes after every fight. It's comforting, Calix's warmth, and Ren feels his eyes start to close.

"You're dyin' alright."

"Just…resting…"

"Rest when we get back. Ya fought well." Calix grunts, somewhat reluctantly, but Ren appreciates it all the same.

"About time you recognised that." Ren can't help but laugh despite the pain it brings, his heart soaring when Calix joins in the laughter. His laugh is short and rough, a sweet melody that carries with it a genuineness rarely heard.

Calix quietly slips a hand into Ren's, a small blush forming on the tips of his ears when Ren squeezes his hand. No words need to be exchanged, everything that needs to be said has already been said in the simple gesture.

Now all that's left to do is go home. Together.

[absolutezerotolerance]

When I created this blog, along side my fellow moderator, I was in a very different place, mentally. J//uvia and Gr//uvia made me angry in a way I couldn't get over and by in large I surrounded myself with people who felt the same way. I thought that venting was healthy, and I still do, but not so much in the way we went about it.

There is a difference between having a space where you can voice what you're feeling and thinking for the sake of working through them, and having that space be public. There is a certain level of satisfaction that you can get from reading metas like the ones we posted, agreeing with your side, but to what end?

Over the months we've run this blog, we've received many an-ask about how this blog has been appreciated by other fans who don't enjoy the way the ship is handled by the Fairy Tail series, itself, the sequel or by the fandom at large. And whilst there may or may not be a conversation to be had where J//uvia and Gr//uvia and what they represent are concerned, months ago I came to the conclusion that this blog is not the way to go about it. I will come back to why it took so long between me realizing this and posting this in a moment, but for our followers, I want to pose a question to you.

What conversation does this blog actually influence? That J//uvia is a bad character? That Gr//uvia is a bad ship? Okay, then, to what end? How is this blog different from the recent attacks on archive of our own, or the inter-fandom discourse about purity culture? Is the way we talk about J//uvia and Gr//uvia not in line with the same type of thinking that gets fanfiction archives attacked over hosting gay fanfiction or authors attacked in their own comments over writing about darker subjects?

And even if that were a moot point, how would it be fair to ask fans of the ship and character to have a conversation with a blog like this floating around that is so aggressively opposed to it? How can we ask fans to sit down and have an actual discussion and trust that there is a good faith to be had? Do we have any good faith towards J//uvia or Gr//uvia?

Personally, I have arrived at the answer: no. I didn't have good faith towards either.

When this blog was active, I thought that was a fine position to hold. I still don't like J//uvia or Gr//uvia or the way they are so heavily intertwined with Gray that it is impossible to search for him. But, that's my problem. That's my opinion. I've been in this fandom for just under a decade, I have fanfic authors and fanartists who I like who don't post about those topics, or if they do, I can just rely on the old adage of "don't like, don't read". Disliking J//uvia and Gr//uvia doesn't have to be this big political statement that you need mountains of evidence to justify. It is okay to just not like them. Hell, it is okay to think the ship is toxic. But there are better things to spend my energy on the venting about how much I dislike them, and the people who do like J//uvia and Gr//uvia are not evil pieces of shit for doing so, I don't need to make them into strawman arguments to show why me not liking J//uvia and Gr//uvia is the morally superior stance to hold.

In the months that I have been gone, I have moved on from the Fairy Tail fandom into another one and that above all else is what helped me flip my perspective on this. The Fairy Tail fandom was not a good experience for me, by in large. I adore Gray, and I would not trade the friends I made through Fairy Tail for the world, but those are the exceptions. There are too many ways that Fairy Tail and its fandom have warped my perception of fandom to list, but just being outside it for months was a hell of a shock.

I was so god damn scared of approaching ships and characters and topics in my new fandom because my experience with the Fairy Tail fandom made my first instinct be wariness and caution, because what if. What if the ship's fans are toxic? What if the content of the ship isn't healthy? What if other people care that I ship this in the way I cared if other people shipped Gr//uvia?

In the defense of my younger self, I was 13 when I joined this fandom. And for the majority of the decade it was my only fandom, the only one I was active in for a substantial period of time anyway. I now know that if I found and fell in love with Fairy Tail today that I would have a vaaaastly different opinion of it and its ships and its characters and its fans. I wouldn't care, is the thing. Because why should I when the alternative is having fun with the parts of the fandom that I enjoy?

Ship and let ship, it's a piece of media for fuck's sake, the people who enjoy ships you don't like are not the devil reincarnated, so leave them alone.

To the fans of this blog, I'm glad if this blog was helpful to you in some way. Be that in helping you to articulate why you don't like J//uvia or Gr//uvia or the 100 years sequel, or if the original intention of this being a productive vent space actually had that effect for you.

To the fans of J//uvia and Gr//uvia, I am sorry to have put you in the position that I did, using this blog as a weapon to paint you in a truly awful light. What I think and feel about this ship is my issue, and I shouldn't have pushed it onto you as some grand moral failing on your part.

I will be stepping down from actively running this blog, it is a piece of my fandom history that I don't want to hold onto any longer.

See you around.

[wawawawawawawawawawawawawa]

anon who doesnt have aspd and taught myself empathy here yet again! i am Now Thinking and remembering that a huge part of why i've never tried to go to therapy or anything is coz like i Know i'd use what i learn to like, manipule ppl better and shit. i enjoy playing w ppl Too much and coz Fun Childhood i've been good at it all my life, but cognitively i recognise its bad so it would be bad and not fair for me to go to therapy and get even better at it and manipulate ppl i love for my own fun. and like even i dont do illegal shit or even like drink alcohol or smoke coz then i can keep the moral high ground in arguments w ppl and i can say whatever i want and call em out on shit and create a fuss for them and stir the pot and they cant call me a hypocrite. like so much of what i do is about making sure i have a level of ability to manipulate and control ppl and situations. so many behaviours which arent explained by autism, idk why i've just brushed all of them aside except that i've gotten bored by overthinking abt them, and ive mostly gotten to a point where they're under control and im content w life

but back to remorse and empathy i honestly just think they're not really necessarily useful things and ppl place so much importance on "oh im such a good person i have so much empathy" but will also use their empathy/remorse to control ppl? like i know ppl w bpd who use their genuine guilt and worries and stuff to get ppl to feel sorry for them and indulge them instead of confronting and working on it. like even ppl w/o mental illness will sometimes try to use the fact they feel bad abt smth to erase their culpability instead of actually fixing their mistakes. it can be confronting for them that some ppl can be like "oh shit i made a mistake. fuck. oh well" (and sometimes fix their mistake/take responsibility) w/o remorse or other emotions to it coz i think it makes them realise their emotion doesnt absolve them

thanks to listening to me ramble!

man i feel that, im also obsessed with having the moral high ground, except i think my view of morality is the best one and everyone else is stupid. also i'm a hypocrite. i also hate hypocrites! yes this in of itself is hypocritical i am aware. do something morally reprehensible? shame on you! doesn't matter that i do the same thing with no intent to stop. its over anakin i have the moral high ground!! i have Standards and Morals and also i'm correct all the time. if i had the death note there would be no story and everything would be okay. i simply would not go mad with power and i'd only kill people who are deserving of it

also yeah i hate the empathy = morality thing i hate it so so so so much. i do think cognitive empathy is a useful tool and remorse can be useful as like, the emotions equivalent of getting spritzed with a water bottle and also you are a cat. do something shitty? feel remorse? my cuck ass is NEVER doing that again!! because remorse felt so bad the first time, why would i risk doing it Again and feeling remorse Again? its just not worth it. but then again if you get more and more used to its presence it wouldnt work all that great and also would suck balls

and i've known a dude w bpd who was like that, and ive known people with good ol fashioned Anxiety Disorder that were like that- worse, even! they thought that bc they had anxiety, they were these cutesy little waifs and anything they did could be rebutted with "but i have anxietttyyyyyy" and everyone was just expected to pity them because of it- no matter what they did! people put too high of an emphasis on emotion as the standard of morality- if you're a scared abuse victim, thats Moral and you are Pitiable, which is Good. however if you fought back, you are Immoral and you are Secretly Probably The Aggressor, which is Bad. (consequently, if you're too scared, that's Moral, however you Didn't Fight Back, which means you were acting Illogically, and Had It Coming, therefore you are Bad) which is hypocritical as fuck! ive taken responsibility w/o remorse and i've takne responsibility with remorse and remorse is Not the important part of this argument, it's emotional intelligence.

[mcalhenwrites]

I went from being on anon and not sharing that I was posting Seasons to being openly proud that I wrote it. Before I posted the first chapter back in October, I had finally gotten to a point where I was confident in my writing abilities. It took far too long to get here. I'd convinced myself that I deserved nothing but criticism and ought to be embarrassed by everything I wrote. Plenty of people validated that feeling, so I took that as confirmation. Surprisingly, my being anon had nothing to do with that. After making my writing private or deleting it entirely, I had a chance to really think about my relationship to sharing. (Which still needs work, as I'm about to go into.) It's a vulnerable process, but ultimately, I still want to do it. I love writing, but it's hard to find an audience, and did I actually deserve one? It was nice to write without thinking about the perfectionism. That's likely what struck me: I always enjoy creating stories, but I get caught up in cycles of editing (still do) where I nitpick out of fear that nothing I create is good enough. I looked at my writing and realized, no, I've been so hard on myself. This is good. These are interesting stories to me, and surely other people will find them interesting as well! I slowly took a few stories out of the private collection months later. But then there was Seasons. :') I was afraid that I'd be condemned for the content in Seasons. Every single story I create is self-indulgent in different ways. Some show an obvious love of steampunk, others show I like dragons, some are kinky af, others are introspective to the moon and back. They're not for everyone. They're for me. But I want them to be for other people, too, and that's okay! Still, Seasons is indulgent in its vulnerablity and rawness. I have a bad relationship with my own trauma and how I have to live with it in the world being what it is, for one. I didn't know if many other people would read it. I knew it was the kind of thing that likely wouldn't get published. It doesn't work for traditional publishing, and self-publishing can be specific about what's allowed. (Especially given the popularity of book banning in my country.) That's why it's up on AO3. I'd like it to remain there, free to read for those that might need the catharsis. Anyway, people did read it. A lot of them have. I got asks about it on another tumblr account I created just to stay anon, and while those have since died down, and I do think the story has some weaker parts that might be the reason I've scared off a handful of writers, it does seem to get a lot of hits each time I update. People who don't usually comment sometimes pop in suddenly to say they've been reading a while or still are reading. It's really touching. I don't need to to validate my relationship with my writing, but it does validate my relationship with sharing. Perhaps that is what made it easier to feel comfortable with coming off anon in baby steps. I'm anxious to finish Seasons and start sharing more of my other works! (And getting back to writing a few of them.) I'm proud of those novels too! :D Oh, and an odd side effect, but my pride in Seaons has made me love my other works like Rascal and The Dragons' Cosmos even more. It's not Seasons, per se, just a general... feeling that the more I love one story, the good I see in others, and it keeps going. Honestly, I know it's hard to believe people when they say it's worth being confident and saying positive things, that you should accept compliments, et cetera. Especially if you've ever been in any writing groups or fandoms where your work is the centerpiece for anyone's jokes. It gets reallllly fucking hard to overcome that. So I'm not going to say, "Oh hey, here's advice!" I know from experience no one is going to take it. But I will say this: when I was active on twitter, I saw a lot of fairly well-known authors talking about imposter syndrome and a lack of confidence, as well as the humiliation they've gone through before and while in the industry.

To conclude: all that advice was right, is what I'm saying! XD

(please just let me post my lazy conclusion, tumblr, I beg of you)

[playagamewithlittleflame]

I don't know what the hell i am. I'm me. Which is... complicated. Thought i'd figure it out by creating and loving and exploring, but maybe that requires a safety net (like parents, friends, teachers, healers) and that was inconsistent at best. Thought i'd figure it out by letting go of things until i was able to be anyone. And then choosing to be exactly what people wanted. Thought i'd figure it out by "rebelling" 🙄 and researching labels and identities and sexualities and diagnoses, but all it did was create a less glamorous box to have to pretend to fit in. Thought i'd figured it out by being scared straight (in many ways), but i couldn't hold on to that. I had stopped (suppressed) wanting things. I was a perfect Buddhist in that regard. If you go long enough without ice cream, eventually you're just content with rice, and feel no urges. And when you do eat ice cream again, you don't know anymore how to enjoy it. It's safer. Everything was compartmentalized, organized, doable, wise, normal, and importantly, non-addictive. I was also suicidal almost the whole time. Because i was pretty much starving myself to death inside. I need safety, but maybe i don't have to kill myself (in any way) to get it. Maybe that's what certain other people are for, or other places... that doesn't sound right. Any ideas, if you're reading this? i don't think i am capable of finding safety within me without changing. Basically cutting off my limbs so that they can't do anything harmful. But people aren't meant to live for decades in isolation, never connecting or getting the actual help they need. (And yes, i've tried everything the system has to offer and it wasn't fun.) And maybe if i knew someone or something (that isn't changing myself) was there to catch me, i could successfully go way back to the beginning of my life and do the exploring, and the creating, and the loving, thing i did naturally, and who i am would come naturally instead of being some sort of equation that doesn't work and i have to figure out. Maybe it's too late.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN BISEXUALS MARRY? 

Do I have to choose sides?

by Jennie Gruber for A Practical Wedding (where this post first appeared)

[dropcap letter=”I”]’ve always been uncomfortable with the word “bisexual,” even when “equally attracted to men and woman” was obviously the kind of person I was, from mischievous childhood through horny adolescence and into my adult love life.

In retrospect, I am able to admit that my aversion to the word was based on a very ’90s mainstream conception of sexual orientation. When I was a teenager, my peers and the media told me that bisexual people were flaky sluts who didn’t really belong anywhere. Bisexual desire wasn’t real. Bisexual identity wasn’t legit. Sadly, I bought into those myths early on by reinforcing hierarchies: I might be attracted to everyone, but I wasn’t one of those bisexual people. I claimed I didn’t like labels, but I really just didn’t want to be judged.

Everyone assumed I was a lesbian before I could define my own identity, and I resented that. Both culturally, and gender-wise I was very queer, running with the theater kids and favoring Winona Ryder pixie cuts. Yet I took refuge in my potential for hetero privilege. I mostly dated, slept with, and loved cisgender men from my teens through the age of twenty-five. I was, frankly, being a punk ass, defiantly responding to everyone who assumed I was gay by demonstrating: “You think you can put me in a box! I’ll show you by sucking all the dicks!”

As a young adult, I chased sex, community, romance, partnership and adventure. 

I never, ever dreamed of marriage.

Around the age of twenty-six, I discovered the identity queer. Suddenly I had a word for what I was: an anti-conformist who desired relationships with people of all genders. In the mid-aughts Bay Area where I lived, queer was a word that could mean bisexual or pansexual or kinky. It was a term for iconoclasts, a term that welcomed sex workers and exhibitionists. It was the identity that declared: “Not gay as in happy; queer as in fuck you.”

I was thirty when I met my future wife, at Bluestockings, the anarchist-feminist bookstore in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Genderwise, she’s got it all. She’s a butch lady with a tie collection, who can hit all the high notes when she sings Cyndi Lauper at karaoke. A mutual sexual obsession grew into love, and then conversations about commitment; and then, a proposal in a gritty downtown park with a gold-plated cock ring, the perfect confluence of rational pragmatism and filthy romance.

We love to joke about the fact that homo means same, and that we’re not so much attracted to each other as women who love women, but as women who love people of all genders. A huge part of my attraction to my wife—who I married one year ago in a NYC civil ceremony—is a kindredness in queerness. My wife and I are both dykes who feel like gay men, butch-leaning women who love flamboyance and sparkly things and spontaneous disco dance parties. If I can explain why I knew I wanted to marry her after never wanting to get married, this is why: I fell in love with her but I also fell in love with the prospect of a queer life and marriage together.

Our wedding—which we are calling our Lovefest to try to banish words that limit us—is this month on a farm in Maine. It’s going to be a queer wedding, and it doesn’t confirm or deny our sexual identities. It just means we’re going to continue to grow in them together. It’s going to be a wedding with trans*, cis, and genderqueer guests, hetero couples and queer triads, and a gay officiant. A lot of our exes will be there. I’m going to wear a custom blue dress in the afternoon and a three-piece suit at night, because complicated genders require costume changes.

Being queer, and unquestionably anti-establishment, my wife and I have had to field a lot of questions about our decision to get married and what it says about our identity. Does this make us “officially” lesbians? Are we “over” our bisexual “phase”? Do we have to turn in our queer cards because we decided to “assimilate”?

Of course the answer to all of these questions is, “No and fuck you very much.” I identify as queer because I get to decide what it has meant and continues to mean to me. Committing to my wife does not mean abandoning my community. Sharing a bed and home with a woman doesn’t mean I’m abandoning my love of other genders.

If my wife and I decide to be monogamous, or if in our monogamishmash I never end up playing with another cis man, trans man, trans woman, or genderqueer person, I’m still bisexual. Or queer. Or whatever I am.

I didn’t stop being attracted to men or transpeople when I married a ciswoman. It’s also not a problem if I “miss” other genders.  I love my lady because she loves men and people of all genders too. I could never be married to someone who excluded an entire gender, socially or sexually. I can check a man out on the street and murmur dirty things to her—if she didn’t notice him first. That is more important to me than actually sleeping with anyone else—the ability to be honest about my erotic imagination, to be funny, to acknowledge attention and share fantasies. My wife is secure in our love, commitment, mutual lust, and she isn’t threatened by my male friends or the ex-boyfriends I’m close with.

Also my wife’s gender contains multitudes: A doting wife. A stern husband. A playful girl. A dirty pig. She’s a Gemini. In that way, she is the perfect match for a queer girl like me: she can be all the genders I’m hot for and wired to love, all wrapped up into a perfect package that I’ve been lucky enough to marry.

[georgiapeach30513]

Stained Like Georgia Clay, Part 7

Summary:  Cole takes you out riding

Pairings:  Cole Turner X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, skinny dipping, fingering, oral sex (F&M receiving), swallowing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  4.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

Cole walks through his parents garage, not looking for anything in particular, just looking.  Digging through a few old tools when he comes across something he hadn’t seen in years.  His dad’s old motorcycle, covered up and still looking every bit as new as the last time he’d seen it.  It was beautiful and kept, and just the perfect thing to enjoy time with you.  Cole would never just outright take the vehicle.  Tapping his fingers on the body of the bike, he decides it’s best to just go and ask his parents.

He trots into the kitchen, making sure to give his mom a cheek kiss, and then he goes into the living room.  Running his fingers smoothly over his dad’s hand, and he looks up at his only son smiling, “Found the old bike,” Cole tells his dad, and grabs the pipe out of his father’s hand who glares at him.  “Really?  More tobacco?”

“Let me die in peace.  I smoked, let me smoke.”

“Why are you mentioning the bike?” His mom brings her husband his breakfast.  Her hands pet over his cheek, and then moves to brush the hair away from his weathered face.  

“I was wanting to take it out,” his dad looks up at him curiously, but nods his head.  “I’m pretty sure everything is still in working condition.”

“You’re very eager.”

“Dale,” his mother giggles at him.  Taking a seat at the couch beside her husband she looks up at her handsome son.  She was so proud of him, and beyond excited to have him back in her life.  “Would this have something to do with the girl you had a date with in the orchard?”

“Yes,” he had been waiting for this conversation.  He was a grown man, but still the idea of having this conversation with his mom made him cringe.  He had been trying to just enjoy his time with you.  By enjoying his time, he was learning to care for you.  It definitely wasn’t love, but he knew that it was growing.  Wanted to make any excuse to see you.  It had become a daily thing at this point.  You or him was always showing up on each other’s doorsteps.

“How many weeks has this lasted?”

“Mom.” “Rachel.”

“I’m just saying.  You’re a handsome man, I don’t know why you felt the need to be a philanderer,” Cole sighs embarrassedly, looking away from his mother.  His crystal blue eyes staring at the ceiling and refusing to make a comment on that.  “Oh, come on, Cole.  It is what it is.  Had I had known you would have taken all the time to get married or give me grandchildren, I would have had other children.  So tell me about this girl that has captivated more than just your body?”

“She’s adorable,” Rachel tilts her head to the side with a proud smile towards her son.  “She doesn’t want to leave here, but she wants to take time off to be able to travel and go.  She likes the ambiance of the small town life, but she doesn’t think like these people.  She actually takes no crap from men.  No matter how hard they try for a date.  She hasn’t dated, and honestly that scared me.”

“How old is this girl, son?” Dale lifts his hand up as if to take a drag from his pipe, only to realize it wasn’t in his hand.

“Twenty.  I know, but in my mind I’m probably twenty.  It takes a long time for men to fully develop, and yes, I’m taking my time with her.  So quit judging me.”

“How did you meet her?” Rachel lifts up a glass of sweet tea, and sips on it a moment.  “You don’t get out too much, and then this happened.  So I’m curious, how did you meet her?”

“Her parents own the general store,” while Rachel wiggles around a bit, her smile getting larger, Cole turns around to look out of the window.  Their house sat right in the middle of the orchard, high on a hill.  Nothing but apple trees as far as the eye could see.  Except over in the distance, you could see a driveway lined in peach trees, and a small quaint farmhouse.  It was like he was destined to have you in his life.

“I had to go in to get some things for the house, and she was there.  There was something about her.  She doesn’t get involved in the small town talk or the congregation chats.  She does her job, smiles, and then works on a book.  She wants to be a writer.  And she has this sweet little distant look in her eyes, and yeah, I can’t help it, there’s this part of me that wants to take care of her.”

“Maybe because she’s twenty,” Dale chuckles at his own joke, but then with a deep and painful cough, he stops to take a drink of sweet tea.

“No, it’s more than that.  She needs me.  Like we went to the swinging bridge, and she tried to be all cool about it, and she’s terrified of heights.  I had to carry her away from the situation, and I have never felt more — needed or wanted.  In that moment she allowed herself to be vulnerable with me, and she barely knew me, and she didn’t care.  She just needed me.”

“Son,” Rachel starts, setting her glass down to fully look at her son.  He lit up while he was talking about you.  She didn’t even know the names of the other girls, and here her son was telling her things about you.  What he liked, and maybe even why he liked it.  “She sounds young and inexperienced.”

“Wow.”

“No, listen.  With girls, it’s different.  It just is.  You’re literally letting someone into your body.  Tread lightly with this.  I’m sure her parents wouldn’t think kindly of you making their daughter the talk of the town because of a mistake.”

“She’s not a mistake.  She’s…well, she’s different,” Cole bites at his lower lip.  It was easy to have sinful thoughts of you dancing around in his head.  But honestly, his favorite thing was thinking of the way your smile looked in the sun.  The way your melodic giggle always made him laugh right along with you.  You helped him forget for a moment how uncertain his father’s life was.  

But his favorite was the way you looked while you drifted to sleep on his chest.  He had never had that level of intimacy.  Completely clothed, and things felt so raw and sweet.  And he had never taken the time to notice what someone looked like on him.  He was usually calling a cab to get them.  You were different.  If he could find a way to keep you with him all night, every night, without freaking you out, he would.

“She’s not a mistake, mom.  She’s…she’s…”

“Son, you’re going to hurt yourself trying to think of another word besides love,” Cole shakes his head rapidly, trying to deny what he had growing within him.  “Fine, keep pretending.  The key to the bike is in dad’s office.  Have fun today.  Take a blanket.  You know where would be nice?”

“The pond,” his dad’s voice scratches out.  “It’s secluded.  There’s a big field there, plenty of trails to go on, and no one to bother you.  I think that’s a great place.  And it isn’t far from here, in case that stupid bike breaks down.  We’ll come and get you.”

“The pond?” Cole thinks about how it was in fact away from everyone.  Beautiful untouched land, and one where he had hoped one day he could have his own house built there.  It was in a valley, plenty of shade and trees, and complete privacy.  No neighbors.  It would be amazing.  And just perfect to show you around.

Taking a bite out of your sandwich, Loretta stands at the door, pawing on the floor.  Her brown eyes turn back to look at you before she starts barking loudly, “Loretta Lynn, you quit that right now,” she continues her barking until you walk out on the porch with her.  That handsome man comes up the driveway on a motorcycle, and you can’t help but to feel those pesky butterflies in your stomach.  He made you happy.  

Stopping only to lean forward on the handlebars, smiling from ear to ear.  “What cha doing, Bee?”

“I was eating a sandwich.  Would you like one?”

“I think I would,” there was something about the way his foot pushed down the kickstand, and he throws his leg over the seat that had you gulping, and turning quickly to walk inside.  With a quick pounding of his feet he comes up behind you.  His arms wrap around your waste, and he pulls you flush against his hard body.  Cole peppers kisses over your shoulders, and you tilt your neck to the side where he hungrily nibbles on your sensitive skin.

“You thought you were going to walk back inside without giving me a kiss?”

“I didn’t know you wanted one,” it was almost impossible to choke those words out.  Your hand reaches behind you, and you weave your fingers through his fluffy locks.  Obsessed with the way he was making you feel.

“I always want a kiss from you, Bee.  You got some peanut butter and jelly?” With him still wrapped around your waist you waddle the two of you over to the table, and slide a bowl towards him.  “What’s this?”

“Peanut butter and apple jelly.”

“Aw, honey, you shouldn’t have.  You know a way to a man’s heart, huh?”

“It’s a classic.  Don’t flatter yourself,” despite your words, you were softly rubbing your fingers over his forearm.  The other hand, back to playing with his hair, and when he pulls off you quickly, he has to look away, pretending he didn’t see that pouty face.  “When did you get a motorcycle?”

“It’s my dad’s.  I thought you might like to ride around the property.”

“Is it safe?”

“Do you think I would hurt you?” You exaggerate a thinking face, pretending to contemplate if this gentle man would ever hurt you.  “Brat.”

“Uh!” There that little stomp of your foot was.  You were definitely a brat.  “That isn’t fair.”

“Then get on the back of my bike, and go with me.  After I eat my peanut butter and jelly though.”

“Fine.  But…Do we get to kiss?”

“Whenever you want to kiss, Bumblebee, you just lean in and kiss me,” you bite at your lip, and take a step forward, your finger weaves under a belt loop, and you pull his hip forward, but hesitate, “You can’t be doing that if you’re not going to…” you don’t want him to finish.  

With a hand wrapped around his neck, you pull him down to your mouth.  Not hesitating to brush your tongue on his lips and tasting the sandwich on him.  Cole reciprocates by sucking on your tongue, causing a spew of whimpers to release.  Laying his sandwich down, both hands grab at your hips, and he picks you up to sit on the counter.  His thick frame pushes in between your legs, and you pull him tighter to you.

Cole can’t help but to pull you closer.  Have your ass sitting right at the edge of the counter so you’re forced to wrap your legs around him, and cling tight to his waist.  This felt right, and better than anything he could remember.  Just kissing you felt better than any woman.  Grabbing onto his hand, you place it on your tit, and he pulls off of you with a pop, “We should probably go,” smirking as he glances down at where you put his hand before dropping it.  

“Just let me finish my sandwich,” he takes a big bite and smiles through his chewing.  “What?”

“Nothing,” you were annoyed.  You don't know what you were doing, but you wanted things to go further.  You spent every evening with Cole and it was always kissing.  Just kissing.  You wanted him to touch you.  Cole, however, enjoyed seeing you frustrated.  There was something about the way you would turn your chin up, and try to act like him pulling away wasn’t bothering you.  When in fact, it got under your skin.

Finishing up, he pulls you out of the house, and you leave the lazy Loretta laying in her bed.  And you follow an excited Cole out the door.  Waiting for him to get on the bike, before you join him.  Arms wrap around him immediately as you enjoy a nice summer ride.  There wasn’t a destination, just Cole showing you his family property.

He drops his hand randomly, so he can caress it on top of your hand.  Your fingers was dangerously low.  Settled over his crotch, and he was supposed to not think about it.  Had to keep his mind on the trail, and make sure he wasn’t going to hit some tree.  He was almost positive you were completely oblivious, and if it wasn’t for your chin resting on his shoulder, he might have lost it all together.  Thankfully the pond wasn’t far away, because he could use some cooling off.

You had never been to this part of the town, due to it being private property, but it was gorgeous.  Almost wild, untouched, and more than once you saw a few rabbits, turkey, and deer.  Cole slows down the bike, before stopping at the edge of water, “Come on,” laying down a large blanket, he pulls off his shirt, and starts kicking off his shoes.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m going swimming,” undoing his belt and jeans, he pushes them down, and stands in nothing but his boxer briefs holding out his hand.  “Come on.  You can do it, Bee.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Neither do I,” he drops his hand and runs out the dock before diving into the water.

When he disappears, you try to calm yourself.  You weren’t prepared for this, but it didn't seem like he was either.  You wanted him to touch you.  Wanted to do more than kiss, and if you wanted that, you had to quit pushing these moments away.  Cole comes out of the water, slinging his hair to the side right as you pull off your shirt.  Getting down to nothing but your bra and panties, but with a deep calming breath, you take the bra off.

Arms wrapped around your chest as you walk out the dock.  Cole’s head was barely above water, just his eyes as he watches you, and you jump in.  The water was colder than expected, but mixed with the Georgia summer sun, it was refreshing.  Coming back up to the surface you swim over to the man you were willing to give everything to.  

There was a calmness here.  The slight breeze mixed in with your heavy breathing and the odd chirp from a bird.  “You okay?” Cole asks wading closer to you.  

“I can’t touch.”

“It’s deeper than you thought, huh?” Pulling you into his body, you yip as your bare skin touches his, “Hey, I got you,” he peppers kisses over you face.  One sweet peck after another.  Reaching for his hand, you place it back on your tit.  Your eyes wide as you pull back from him.  “Is that what you’re wanting, hmm?”

His calloused thumb moves over your hardened bud, gripping tighter until he pinches you, and you lay your head on his shoulder, “Bee?  You gonna talk to me, pretty girl?”

“I like it,” lifting you up out of the water a bit, exposing your tit.  With his eyes only on you, he inches closer, looking directly at your eyes before his mouth closes around your nipple, “Mmm,” you moan out.  His hand kneads your tit while his tongue kitten licks your pebbled peak.  Continuing to suck until pulling completely off.

His nose nuzzles along the sensitive area, before readjusting your weight, “Let’s try the other one,” Nearly the same motions, but he keeps a hand on the other breast.  Groping and teasing the other.  You were mesmerizing.  For once you were letting your body do the thinking as you roll your hips on him.  Your hot cunt over his abs, and using the ridges to grind over.  He pulls off you, and watches you for a moment.  

Jaw slack and making the most beautiful sounds, “How does that feel, Bee?  You like that?”

“Yeah,” leaning back, letting your tits float out of the water, you smile knowing that Cole was indeed enjoying the view.

“You want a little bit more?”

“Yes, please!”

When his hand goes under water, you were for sure this was the day.  It was the moment that Cole was going to take your virginity.  He reaches out to the gusset of your panties, and pushes it aside.  You feel the pressure of two fingers pushing into your walls, and your head falls back on your shoulders, whimpering.  This wasn’t what you were expecting, but you weren’t completely upset about it.

“How’s that?  You like fucking my fingers?”

“Cole…”

“Does it feel good?” You nod your head.  With your body still moving over him, he looks down into the water.  It was a bit murky, but he could see your cunt swallowing his fingers down to the knuckles.  His cock hard and neglected, but he didn’t care.  The only thing that would make this better would be to have your juices leaking down his wrist.  You were loving it.  Your fingers could never compare to his thick beefy ones.  

“God, you’re beautiful, but that pussy…keep doing that Bee.  You’re doing such a good job.  You like that don’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“I bet you would taste just like candy.”

“Taste?”

“Oh, I’m sure no one has feasted on that pretty cunt.  It’s a shame I can’t hear how wet I’ve made you,” his tongue pokes out of his mouth, and he draws his lip in.  Each word out of his mouth has you riding his fingers with more enthusiasm.  Had you taking even more of him.  Your walls were so tight around him.  He could almost feel you hugging his cock.  Letting your walls mold to him.  The only man that had ever done it.

“I wanna taste you, Bee.  These fucking cotton panties are blocking my view.  Will you let me lick on you?”

“Y-y-yeah.”

“You would?  You’re fluttering around me,” he pulls his fingers out of you, and you glance up at him pouting.  “Don’t worry, Bee.  Let’s get to the dock,” but you couldn’t stop, you were so close.  “Bee!  Quit your pouting, or I might have to fuck you right here.”

“Will you?” Dammit, those eyes.  You didn’t know.  You couldn’t know, but the look you were giving him, he almost didn’t make it to the dock.  

“I’m not fucking you, until you’ve touched my cock.  I can tell you want to, but for whatever reason, you’re denying yourself.  Let me taste your sweet sweet honey between your legs, and then I’ll show you how to pleasure me, okay?”

“Okay,” you squeak.  He lifts you up to the dock, and your legs start spreading.  Damn those white cotton panties.  They left nothing to the imagination wet.  Hauling himself out of the water, you admire his beauty.  Beads of water drip down the hills and valleys of his muscles.  You could see the outline of his thick cock perfectly.  It was amazing he hadn’t ripped through his underwear with the strain it was causing.  Reaching out your hand, you palm him, and his eyes roll back in his head.  

“Not yet, eager girl,” getting to his knees, one hand on each of your knees, he splits you open.  His body lowers down, and he presses chaste kisses over your covered core.  Up and down your slit.  Looking up at you as he continues.  Flattening out his tongue, he licks up your slit, and your hands hold over your tits.  “There ya go,” he whispers, sitting up.

Cole’s fingers move under the elastic of your panties, and he pulls down the innocent little panties.  Looking up at you as you settle on your back more comfortable, until he stares at your weeping cunt.  He thought it was pretty before, but when your legs drop to the side, and he sees the conflict in your face, it makes it that much sweeter.  “You’re not doing anything wrong, Bee.”

“I know.”

“I’ll stop whenever you want me to, okay?” Nodding your head he inches closer.  His tongue laps up your juices, and he moans at your tangy sweet taste.  “I’m addicted,” whimpering out his name, he shimmies closer.  Kitten licking up your tight hole, right over your sensitive bundle of nerves.  “I want to taste this everyday,” he leans forward, letting his lips circle around your nub, and gives it a hard suck, and your head leans back.  Panting at the feeling.

“You aren’t gonna last long, huh?  You gonna taste me?  Or you just wanna touch me?”

“T-t-taste.”

“Good girl,” he dives in and gorges himself on you like a man starved.  Sucking on your clit and pulling off.  Two fingers move into your cunt, and he pumps into you.  Your hands are still fondling your breasts.  Your hips rocking up into his hungry mouth.  You were beautiful.  Eyes blown full of lust, and finally letting your primal need for pleasure take over.  

Your body thrusts with his motions, and he knows that his cock is going to be a tight fit, but he has no problem devouring you, and stretching you out everyday until then.  You were beautiful. He could get used to this.  Could see himself waking you up with pleasure.  Could almost hear your sweet raspy morning voice moan out his name.  

Your thighs tighten around his head, and you try pushing him away.  You were almost there, but denying yourself a true toe curling orgasm.  No words tell him to stop, so he keeps pushing you.  Your back arches off the dock, and your walls squeeze around his fingers.  When he gives your little pearl a nibble, your hand grabs at his head, pushing him more into your warmth as you completely come undone.

Falling back on the dock panting, Cole slurps up your honey, before moving to his knees, “How was that?” He chuckles, as you narrow your eyes up at him, unable to speak.  Words just didn’t work anymore.  “You still want to touch me?”

“Yeah,” sitting up eagerly on the dock, nodding your head, “Please?”

“Trust me, I will never deny you my cock.”

“Then fuck me.”

“Haha, you’re funny.  I said, you needed to touch my cock before that pretty pussy did.  Besides, I’m going to enjoy stretching you out a bit longer.  Now, open up,” your face falls, and he stands up taking his thick and heavy cock out of his briefs.  A bead of precum on the tip, and he steps closer.  “Not gonna open your mouth?”

“Uh-uh,” oh you were playing coy now.  Your mouth turned up into a mischievous smile, but you also had your hand resting in between your thighs.  Oddly pushing your cunt against it.

He presses his spongy tip on your lips, and paints his salty essence on them.  “I hear you, Bee.  Breathing hard, and making a mess.  Quit playing games with me, and just open up.  I’ll make sure you know what to do.  Go on.  You can do it.  Open that pretty little mouth,” you let your jaw go slack, “Stick your tongue out.”

You followed directions so well.  Letting your tongue stick out as he softly pushes through your pillowy pout.  His hips thrust him into you gently.  Brushing back your stray hairs.  “There ya go, pretty Bumblebee.  Now, grip the base with your hand,” you hesitate.  The last thing you wanted was to disappoint him.

“Hey, I’m gonna teach you exactly how I like it.  You’re perfect.  And my cock is in your mouth, so I’m not complaining.  Now, that arm that’s getting covered in your juices, yeah, that one you keep hunching on,” you pull him out of your mouth, getting embarrassed.  “Bee!  It is fine.”

“You’re making fun.”

“No, I think it’s hot that sucking my dick was making you horny.  Now, take your fingers, and get some of that mess in your cunt.  I want your slick on my cock,” you smile, but can’t look at him.  “Bee, my cock is hard and right there, baby.  Later tonight, I’ll let you ride my face if you want.  Just get some of your juices on your fingers, we’ll use that as lube.”

Sighing, you move your fingers to your cunt.  Cole watches as you gather up your juices, letting your fingers get all shiny and pretty with your arousal, and you raise your hand to his cock, “There ya go.  Wrap that sloppy hand around me,” you grip around his cock, and it terrifies you when your fingers don’t touch.  He was thick.  And you look down at your hole, and have your doubts.  “Don’t worry about that now.  I want your hand tighter.”

You grip him with more force, and he moans.  So tight you could feel his cock throbbing.  A vein right under your finger makes you have a need to feel it under your tongue.  Holding his cock up, you let your tongue follow the trail until you get to his tip, and you lick at his hole.  His musk was intoxicating as you sink over him.

“Oh, yeah, that’s good, baby.  Now, mouth and hand work together.  Pump me in your fist, and bob your mouth over me,” you followed directions so well.  Naturally looking up at him through your lashes has him struggling.  This felt so much better than his hand.  You definitely looked so much better.  Your body is still moving with your motions.  Everything was so much.  Too much.  “Uh!  Yeah, right there.  Fuck yeah.  You’re perfect.  Yeah — Yeah,” he says out your real name as he spews into your mouth.

Hot cream fills your mouth, and you swallow it.  Letting your tongue lick up any spillage, and still those sweet eyes stare up at him.  “Fuck, Bee, I’m sorry.  That…perfection.  It was just perfect, and I couldn’t hold on.  Fuck.”

Cole takes a moment to steady his breathing.  Stuffing himself back into his underwear, before he holds a hand down for you to stand with him.  Completely nude, you stand up, and his hand goes to your cunt.  “I believe you’re wetter now than you were earlier.  You enjoy that?”

“I did,” he pulls you in for a bruising kiss.  Letting the both of you taste each other’s arousal.  It mixed perfectly.  Like the two of you were meant to be.

“Why don’t we go in the shade, and take a nap.  I know you got to be exhausted.”

“Okay…can…would you want to stay with me tonight?  I won’t pressure you to have sex.”

“You’re calling it sex now, huh?  You were saying fuck earlier,” you try to look away, but he holds your chin up, “Look at me when you’re asking questions, darling.  I’d love to stay with you tonight.  Clothes on.  No church tomorrow?”

“No.  I haven’t been going.”

“Feeling guilty?”

“Not when I’m with you.”

Cole nods his head, but doesn’t respond.  Still holding your hand, he leads you over to the shade, and helps you put on your clothes, leaving your bra off, because he liked the way your nipples poked through your shirt.  His hand holds over your tit as the two of you become a mess of legs and arms.  Keeping turned towards each other, because you didn’t think you could ever get tired of his handsome face.  

“You okay, Bee?” You smile nodding your head, and he starts to relax.  Cole didn’t want to admit it, but he was falling, and falling hard.  He doesn’t close his eyes until your breathing steadies out.  He liked watching you.  This was not what he was wanting when he came home.

He thought this summer was going to be filled with mundane everyday activities.  A bit of heartbreak, because it was inevitable that his dad would pass soon.  But then there was this pretty thing sitting in the back of a rusty old ford with baskets of peaches and jars of honey.  The prettiest smile he’d ever seen.  An odd familiarity surrounded you, and he wanted nothing more than to protect you, and keep you all to himself.  

He wanted to make your traveling dreams come true.  Let you explore the world, and then wanted to read everything through your eyes.  You had captivated him.  You first scared him, because he’d never been with someone so innocent and inexperienced, nor did he want to.  Until you.  You not only were worth it, but you were breaking down his walls of wanting to play the field.  He didn't know why you were different, but he saw a future with you.  He was willing to put in the time and patience with you, and he just hoped you were willing to do the same.

He brings you closer to his body, and gently kisses your forehead before he settles down.  Even your body fits perfectly in his arms.  He sighs as his eyes flutter closed.  Feelings he had never felt were rising up, and he didn’t know what to make of them.  He just knew he liked it more than anything.  The sexual part was just an added bonus.  You were becoming everything.

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