#'the gay sex will make him better' 'the gay sex will make him worse' the gay sex is just another way for him to avoid his problems
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forgive me if i lose tubbo character analysis points (rolls eyes heavily) over this or something but i honestly dont think the date was very ooc or that the frubbo romance is going to be played as something that makes qtubbo better. obviously qtubbo gained a lot of trust issues and lost a lot of hope in others + started to strongly believe that love only hurts after purgatory and the funeral. and hes an extremely defeatist guy at heart
but he also makes exceptions because no matter how much he tries to disconnect himself he still cares so so much about others. he has such a weird fucked up view of love and justifies seeing sunny as an exception by saying they wont hurt each other because their love is unconditional and yet he also claims empanada isnt safe when bagi is around because the eye workers will use that connection to their advantage And Yet he constantly looks after and takes care of sunny anyways. even though hes already mourning her before theyve even died. even though by his own logic it may be safer for sunny to not be with him
and like.. he says dont get attached empathy makes you weak but he tries to ruin fit & pacs date so they dont abandon him. he still jokes around with them and has happy moments with them bc ultimately theyre his friends and even if they dont Really understand what hes going through or what would help him they want to be there for him and make him happy and they Do make him happy. bc qtubbo doesnt spend all of his time with his friends whining and groaning about how theyre going to leave him some day and despite being suicidal and defeatist and at times a fucking jerk that isnt his whole personality
depressed people Have happy days. they have ups and peaks in their life and yeah actually many of them do manage to have nice relationships and theres a lot of depressed people out there who are fully capable of just. not being complete downers to be around all the time (cough a lot of comedians have depression cough). if anything i would argue it isnt just in character but realistic for qtubbo to be able to just. have a normal date where hes a bit of a loser and manages to get through an actual confession
and its not like hes going all in oh we're dating and we're going to get married now bc he doesnt even consider themselves boyfriends and he turns down sunny claiming fred as another parent. he just had a happy day and it boosted his mood a little. i dont think fred is really on his list of trusted people and in fact i feel like him just being very silly and awkward during the date is a Part of him not fully trusting fred or wanting to be super serious around/with her. i think to qtubbo fred symbolizes sure some pain from the whole funeral situation but also still a lot of happier simpler times and ultimately a time where tubbo was happier and openly hopeful
if anything, tubbos relationship with fred is another form of escapism for him. of course it isnt going to make him better. he literally brought fred to him and sunnys island where they plan to live far away from everyone to avoid their problems. its all a fantasy for him, and one that he isnt even allowing himself to fully jump into but will joke about and dance around the subject of nonetheless
#'the gay sex will make him better' 'the gay sex will make him worse' the gay sex is just another way for him to avoid his problems#ultimately the hope is still there in qtubbo. hes buried it down deep but its in there#let him have some joyous whimsy. the boy is barely serious about his own issues of course hes going to spend the date-#-making stupid minecraft pick up lines and being extremely awkward. what did you expect from him be fr#mask mews#should i count this as an analysis proper. i guesss#amaryllis analyzes#tubbo#fred qsmp#frubbo#qsmp#anyways qtubbo is bpd realness#having an fp doesnt solve all of your problems being in a relationship doesnt solve all of your problems#if anything the tunnel vision from having one is likely to make you ignore all your issues#bc you feel happy so you stop caring about working on yourself#if you even cared in the first place
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More info (and insane screenshots) from the House MD DS game for those who want to know.
Way, way too much info under the break!!
The game took me about 5 hours to play total, including pauses for screenshots and cackling laughter. There are 5 cases, and each one has: the main case, a clinic patient, and a small subplot about Cuddy that strings through all 5 cases and concludes at the end of the game. It's extremely linear. To solve the case, you do activities when you are prompted, each having its own types of mini games. Activities include: examining the patient, ddx-ing, running tests, running labs, questioning the patient/friends/family, and searching houses/other areas for clues. All of these mini games suck. The best one is when House has to have an epiphany so you play brick breaker with his brain:
WHEN YOU DDX THEY USE THE MOUSE BITES PHOTO
You'll notice here that the visuals are a little uncanny valley. The likenesses are... not good.
The worst offender is 13, who always looks just a little bit off.
One of my favorite parts of the game is that you get graded on your performance and if you do bad, Cuddy doms you.
And when you do good, Wilson kind of negs you?? Feels like the people who made this game were obsessed with him (same). The contrast in these two screenshots really gets me.
More insane top screen screenshots without context:
Honestly, some of my favorites need both screens to really be appreciated:
I do not recommend playing it, really. These are the best parts, and the game itself is slow and can be frustrating. There is also... a lot of problematic nonsense. Worse than the show. Not going to try to make excuses here.
That being said, it's surreal. House is like a bad stand up comic for most of the game, and so much is out of character - House visits the patient FIRST THING every case, the whole team misses very obvious deductive leaps, there's no gay sex, etc, etc, etc. But at the same time, the people who made the game clearly had a love for the show. It follows the typical structure of an episode faithfully and has some detailed, satisfying visuals in it. Everyone's clothes change each episode, even in their little bottom of the screen sprites. This Wilson makes me happy with his show-accurate mug and hand gesture:
And there are some nice interiors/exteriors of the hospital and better rendered pictures that make me smile:
It made me and my friends laugh a lot. And it also makes me a little sad. I spent a lot of my childhood playing shitty licensed games like this (remember the madagascar one???), but they are mostly a thing of the past. I know they were cash-grab trash, but it's odd that there's this genre of game that doesn't really get made any more. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm glad this game exists.
Anyway, here's an upsetting House and Wilson for the road:
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AITA for making a joke about my sex life to a student? 😏🐓 Nsfw text obv i know the title sounds bad but please read everything
I (Transmasc, 25) work on a school, very open as being gay, pride pins and it all, not as a teacher but I take care of computers, textbooks and the library. The younger folk seem to like me, but it's in high school folks things get ugly. Most just don't care about me, which I can't judge, being a teen sucks. Some hate me for telling them to go back to class. The ones that like me (mostly queer/autistic folk) like me for real.
There's this one boy (he's either 16 or 17 so he's NOT a kid) that always makes fun of me, is always skipping classes, is mean to everyone, implied a old teacher she should be better off dead, bothers everyone, talk loudly and complains about everything on his sight.
And he is. Very bigoted. I saw him more than once hurting the girls he studies with (slapping/punching) and caling the whores and more, telling them to suck him off, ride his dick, gag on his cock, etc, saying very hurtful things on gay men/anyone he deemed gay, and principal can only call his parents so many times before the parents stop showing and taking the concerns seriously. This is an ongoing issue since 6th grade, as far as I know. He hates my guts since I've called the principal on him more than once for going off on me telling me to fuck myself for asking him to go back to class.
My main strategy with him is ignoring him and the second one is answering as I don't understand him. Perks of being autistic I guess, being able to do this with a straight face. So: he calls me a chicken, I tell him they're my favorite farm animal, how did he guess? They're so amazing and cute. He tells me the lunch is gross, I say they can buy their lunch to bring if they want to, school food isn't that good (not true, the school food is amazing. Most students eat more than one plate). The computers are too slow, I ask him to please be patient cause they're old men that don't like to work, be nice to them :(. Guy says that the classes sucks, I tell him that the complaint box is at (governor's address) but yea they suck but at least he has only one year left.
This is where I might be the asshole, because I hurt myself going up and down a chair to organize some textbooks and I already have severe hip/knee pain so this only made me hurt worse so I am already pretty grumpy. A teacher asks for a banner of a periodic table and I have to find the table and go up a chair to hang it, and in the process, I let out a moan of pain becaude my knees dream of my downfall, and the teacher asks me if I am okay, so I tell yea, my hips and knees just hurt like a bitch. And this one student tells me "why, are you beaten up from taking cock in your ass?" And I breath deeply and answer "If it was from fucking I would be damn happy, but it's only from working. Anyways teacher here you go (with the periodic table)" and the teacher looks me with a surprised expression and all the class is silent and uncomfortable so I just left. Now the student can't look in my eyes but at least they're not talking to me anymore and the teacher hasn't said anything. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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In Response to Criticism of Loser, Baby
According to the yt comments under prime's upload of Loser, Baby, apparently some folks are taking offense to Husker comforting Angel by telling him he's a loser and to get over it and somehow framing this lovely lovely song as victim blaming??
the media literacy bar really is in hell
I do think the song plays out far better in the context of the show, and isn't really made to be a standalone piece of consumable media, though I will be treating it as such in the coming days by endlessly looping the video
anyway, this is a song that brings comfort and hope to both characters thanks to who each character is and what situation each is in. These are vital pieces of context that are important to understanding the message of the song. It's important to realize one method of comfort is not going to work for every situation-- the particular method in Loser, Baby works because of what the characters are looking for in the moment.
Husk confronts Angel on his self-destructive tendencies, to which Angel responds that drugs, sex, and immediate dopamine hits are his escape, and that, even in the worst case, even if he destroys himself, it'd be better than the situation he's currently in (a suicidal, scary thing to say)
In the previous scenes in the show, we've seen that Angel takes an almost comedic level of pride in his work, eager to drag the gang off to sex dungeons and show them his porn tapes. He delights in how uncomfortable his world makes them and constantly does bits, putting on a character that's hypersexual, that seems like he's in control and wants to be doing the sex work he's doing
This is very clearly an attempt at masquerading a level of power over his life that he doesn't actually have; in reality, he has no choice but to be sexually exploited, but if he acts like he chooses it, it almost feels like he owns his life. Or, really, it almost looks to others that he owns his life. It's all about performance and perception with Angel; he hates the idea of looking like someone who needs saving, hates looking like a victim, and hates being seen as powerless, so he tries to act like he's none of those things. Of course, he can't really lie to himself, so he resolves that inner turmoil (suffering that he completely internalizes because he doesn't want to break his facade) through drugs, sex, alcohol, and even pain as distraction.
Which is why "Loser, Baby," is so fucking wonderful! Husk is telling him, over and over, that he's not fooling anyone, that his little character he's sacrificing so much to play isn't worth it, that Angel's a loser and everyone can tell. If you take his words at face value, it's cruel and unkind and could make things worse--- that is, if this wasn't Husk and he wasn't talking to Angel.
It's freeing. Angel is being told that he doesn't need to do his bullshit performance, that he can be a loser, and that everyone at the hotel's a loser too, so no one's gonna judge him. It's a song about accepting where you are in life, about stopping Angel's denial of reality and refusal of vulnerability.
Most of all, it's a very kind gesture on Husk's part. It wouldn't have worked if Husk hadn't also loudly called himself a loser and opened up about his past mistakes. It's a wonderful song about mutual vulnerability and accepting imperfections and mistakes and accepting that you're in a shitty place so you can finally stop self-destructing and start finding solace in other people also in shitty places.
also it's gay soooooo not too much on my beloved huskerdust
#huskerdust#husker hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel character analysis#hazbin hotel loser baby#loser baby#angel dust#husker#husk
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The JJk fandom has some INCREDIBLE writers and artists and I just felt like showing a bit of love so here are some of my fave Satosugu fics!!!
Audience by @c-valentino
"Three years after the KFC breakup, Satoru caves and visits his old friend late at night with a problem. They are far from what they used to be, but when he hopes they might get a second chance after all, assassins show up to hunt down Suguru."
As you like it by planetarypedxng
"Ieiri Shoko has laid down the law: the three of them will hereafter hang out only at Geto’s place, because Geto is the perfect host, and because Shoko refuses to clean up after anyone, least of all men, and because Gojo’s room always disgustingly reeks of sex.
Gojo had laughed at that, a little too loudly, perhaps, and curiously did not have a single comment about it. What can he say? The truth? That he was still a virgin?"
Falling in love is easy. Admitting it is not. By @ellionwrites
"At 20 years old - sharing an apartment and joint Jujutsu missions - Geto and Gojo are inseparable. But it takes Geto going on a first date for them to start to figure out their feelings."
Two sorcerers chillin' in a hot tub (five feet apart cause they’re not gay) by @hollow-lime-green
"Geto Suguru has almost two decades of practice pretending not to see things that are clearly there, and Gojo Satoru has a well-documented history of being the most socially-stunted motherfucker alive.
That’s how they got here.
Love is in the hands by @thequeenofsarcaasm
That’s also why neither of them know where the hell they’re going with this."
To be a woman by @sadgreekboys
"After getting kicked from his home for being queer, Geto Suguru comes across his old best friend/first love, in a gay bar. He finds a new home in him."
close your eyes (nothing changed at all) by themoonisdead
"Satoru is the strongest. She is a woman. She is not meant to be those two things at the same time.
VIRGIN GETS WRECKED BY BEST FRIEND [FREE PORN VIDS] (18++) WATCH NOW!!!!! By Daisy__dupes
"That day in xx village, suguru makes a call" -what if Suguru had called Satoru for help that day?
Over the Threshold by @fushiglow
(Satoru gets hit with a sex curse and asks Suguru to help him!!!)
4AM by damiselart
"Larger than life K-pop idol, Satoru, approaches introverted record producer, Getō Suguru, to collaborate on his debut Japanese-language studio album. They both get more out of the experience than expected — for better and for worse."
(Tattoo artist Geto and model Gojo. Hot as fuck.)
Post-It Notes by monochromevelyn
"Shoko was sick of watching her two best friends pining for each other. Don't worry, she had a plan to move things in the right direction."
The Two-Headed Calf by malneiro
"Gojo gets a knock on his door late at night: Getou is sick and Mimiko and Nanako don't know who else to turn to."
Vows to Amida Butsu -
" Gojo has a great idea. Geto thinks his classmate should at least ask him cutely instead of just announcing his intent. Consent is important, after all."
and Long Bitter Autumn - both by Daphnerunning and Galiko
"Five years after his best friend left Jujutsu High to become an evil overlord, Gojo Satoru can't sleep. And there's not THAT much difference between a butt dial and a booty call, semantically speaking."
There are so many amazing satosugu fics and most of the writers listed here have multiple incredible fics but these are just some of my absolute faves!!!
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Straight as A Line
Park Jinyoung x Male Reader
cw: homophobic top jinyoung, rough sex, dubious consent, hickeys, college au, swearing at each other, cheating, feminization, porn with a little of plot, a redemption arc for jinyoung lol…
an: lmfaoooo that redemption arc happened when my music suddenly changed to lana del rey's songs changing the whole mood, i'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted anon 😭🙏
this was a request.
—
the university where y/n was studying was planning a trip to go camping in the mountains. it was a dream trip for y/n, he could be close to nature and breathe that pure fresh air but all that sounded too nice to be true.
"i don't know if i want to go on the trip, fuckass jinyoung is going and i don't feel like arguing with that son of a bitch" y/n tells his friend.
jinyoung is one of those rich guys who have a lot of ass-lickers behind them, they do whatever he asks just for the money, also the guy is a fucking homophobe, when he found out that y/n is gay he started to make his life miserable. throwing slurs and swearing almost everyday towards the guy…
every student had an assigned seat “are we in school or something?” mocked jinyoung, his smile slowly fading seeing that he has to sit besides y/n “what the fuck? who put this pillow muncher beside me?” he yelled, “can you just shut the fuck up? you're not that important dude no one cares where you sit stop being a manchild” responded y/n making jinyoung's blood boil in anger.
“listen here, cocksucker. i don't want people like you near me you disgust me” he spat while signaling towards y/n with one finger. “stop signaling me you weirdo. you know that usually men who make fun of someone who is gay do it to cover up their homosexuality .. like why are you mad about me sucking a dick that's not so straight from you, jinyoung..” a grimace of laughter finding its way onto y/n's face while jinyoung's was red for the anger, y/n swear he can see the steam coming out of his ears.
jinyoung quietly accepted he lost this time and sat beside y/n ‘this is not going to stay like this’ he thought, crafting his revenge towards the guy.
it was night already, all the tents are ready and everyone is going inside them, y/n was getting ready to sleep in his sleeping bag when suddenly the zipper of his tent opens “what the fu-” a big hand covering his mouth to prevent him from making any noises. “hello motherfucker” jinyoung smiled “you thought i forgot what you said on the bus dirty whore? i think someone should teach you manners and how to be a nice obedient bitch, what do you think?”.
managing to get away from the strong grip of jinyoung's hand on his mouth y/n says “what the fuck are you talking about you fucking psycho, get out of my fucking tent before i start to scream”.
jinyoung's big veiny hand found its way towards y/n neck squeezing it hard “do it and what i'm gonna do next it's gonna be worse, you hear me?” scared by how menacing the words came out of his mouth y/n just nodded, “what do you want then, a public apology?. fucking asshole”.
“you see.. i was talking with my girlfriend and i got so horny-”, “and? do i look like some type of… friend to you? i don't wanna know shit about it” interrupted y/n. “anyways as i said” jinyoung continued “i'm so bricked that my dick is poking his way out of my shorts, so i was looking for a way to calm it but the rest of the bitches are sleeping and apparently you're the only one bitch awake so… i thought why not use this opportunity to help you be my obedient slut. after all you like cocks” he slapped gently y/n's cheeks. “fuck you” are the only words coming out of y/n's mouth…
“shh be quiet” whispered jinyoung while forcing his cock down y/n's throat, the gagging sounds making him more horny “you're so talented at cocksucking, truly a whore. you do it better than my girlfriend” he snickered while thrusting his thick cock.
“never thought i would see you this fucked up” jinyoung was stroking his cock while y/n was laying down panting, trying to catch his breath, with spit and cum covering his face “talking about dirty whores when you can't keep that thing inside your pants. coming here like a needy bitch looking for a hole to fuck”.
jinyoung just stared at y/n with a smirk on his face “i'm not done with you slut, look at this” he pokes his rock hard cock making it bounce a little “i'm gonna wreck your boypussy. come here” his hand snaking around y/n's shorts and discarding them quickly, along with the underwear. “leave me alone whore” y/n tried to push jinyoung with his feet but the bastard was so strong… and sexy.
jinyoung spat on his fingers and rub it on y/n's rim the cold fluid sending shivers up his spine “hngh.. stop it manwhore…” the pleasure clouding his thinking. jinyoung slap his fuckmeat on the rim and slowly introduce it, drawing a loud moan grom y/n due to the stretching “shush be quiet. you don't want someone to find us right? or is that what you want? woah what a pervert” y/n just ignored the comment and sucked on jinyoung's fingers.
“is that all you got, fragile masculinity slut?. not gonna be surprised if your girlfriend kicks you, you suck at fucki-” a slap landed on y/n's cheek. “stop being a loud motherfucker and let me fuck your pussy” his anger being canalized into fucking y/n “i don't give a fuck if you like it or not” he growls “i’m only here to use you like you let other men do”.
“fuck i love the sight of your gaping pussy. after being passed around the whole university is still so tight… even more than my girlfriend's”. “can you stop mentioning her you asshole?. she deserves a better man than you” y/n says, accommodating himself to ride jinyoung “let's get this over with, i want you gone”.
everytime he goes down y/n makes sure to do it hard causing jinyoung to moan very loudly, “look who's the loud bitch now. you call yourself a man and can't even handle me”. jinyoung laughed quickly grabbing y/n by his ankles pulling them towards him folding y/n in the process, his dick going in and out. y/n squirmed, his eyes rolled back and mouth agape, feeling that cock reaching so deep inside him, no other cock has made him feel like that.
“what happened pillow muncher.. too much to handle?” he starts sucking hickeys in the back of y/n's neck. “i'm gonna breed this pussy and after this you're gonna be mine you hear me?” he whispered while flipping y/n a fuck him while he leans on his back “no… i don't belong to.. to anyone not even to a loser like you” the older just ignored it and continued looking for his pleasure.
“guess you're not that straight macho after all” y/n murmured drawing jinyoung's attention, “just because i'm stretching your boypussy and about to cream it right now doesn't make me a homo… i'm straight as a line..”. y/n with his hooded eyes make eye contact with the top, smiled and caressed his cheek “even the straightest line can be curved dumbass” he then kisses his forehead “c'mon cream this fucking pussy… isn't this what you want hurry up before someone wakes up” fucking himself in jinyoung's dick y/n also searched for his pleasure his cock splurting with cum minutes later landing on jinyoung's chest and abs, while that happened he squeezed so hard that jinyoung came without realizing it, emptying his balls in the insatiable hole of y/n.
jinyoung tried to catch his breath resting his head on y/n's chest falling asleep, followed by y/n minutes later.
the ride back to university was surprisingly quiet, jinyoung didn't say a word about sitting next to y/n, everyone was surprised. one by one they got off the bus with jinyoung and y/n being the last, the tall one grabbed the shorter one by the hand so that he wouldn't come down yet. "i'm going to break up with my girlfriend... what i’m doing with her is not right." "wow, at least there's some empathy inside that empty skull" y/n responded. jinyoung just laughed looking at y/n with a fond smile "sigh... i'm so sorry for what i’ve put you through all these years... i know that's not going to change the damage i've already done but i want to start being a good person… wanna go eat lunch? it's on me".
surprised by the sudden change y/n wondered what happened with him last night “are you okay? did you eat something strange this morning?”. “no fucking asshole i just… i just wanted to change my behaviour… you know if the straightest line can be curved that means that we can change and it's never too late to do it” y/n just stared at him dumbfounded “are you being serious right now? are you philosophizing over a silly phrase i just made up…ugh fucking corny anyways is free food and i can't say no to that so text me where is it and see you there. i guess..” y/n was about to get off but turned around, stood up and pet jinyoung's head, a slight blush covering his cheeks. jinyoung just stood there watching y/n get off the bus with a smile slowly forming in his face.
#jinyoung x male reader#park jinyoung x male reader#jinyoung x male reader smut#park jinyoung x male reader smut#got7 x male reader#got7 jinyoung#male reader#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#smut#male reader smut
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📖"Temporary Custody"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 4861
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.
Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost
11. Palmiers
Bucky
Because he’s on the far end of the spectrum, Bucky’s sex drive is affected by his condition. He wakes up hard almost every morning of his life, and Steve doesn’t need much encouragement to get himself worked up into the same state very quickly. Mutual morning jerk offs were always bound to become part of their routine.
They take a shower and stand toe to toe, hands sliding and groping all over each others’ slick bodies, pulling on their cocks until both of them are shooting off against each other’s bellies. The water washes it away, and Steve gives him a deep, happy kiss. “Mmm. Mornin’.”
“Blegch. Go brush your teeth, you heathen.”
Steve laughs and gets out of the shower. Bucky stays in for a few minutes longer, adjusting the spray to its hardest setting and letting the hot water beat down on his back and shoulders. He sighs and stretches his neck this way and that, trying to get his vertebrae to pop, but his muscles are all too tight, and the stretching just seems to make it worse. Bucky drops his head in defeat. In all honesty, his shoulders and neck and back are all pretty fucked after months of near-constant use of his prosthetic.
Steve’s right: he doesn’t usually wear it this much. And he’s also right that Bucky’s been wearing it all day every day because he wants to feel powerful and able bodied in front of Mary. As per usual, Steve is the first one to have noticed what maladaptive behavior pattern he’s doing and why, and pointed it out to him. It really is for the best, Bucky knows. Because he can’t sustain wearing the arm all the time anymore. The thing is just too damn heavy.
The engineers who designed it have made tweaks and adjustments over the years. They’ve done all they can to lighten the load as much as possible, but the thing still weighs over twenty pounds. Twenty pounds doesn’t sound like much, but when it’s pulling on the same muscle groups day in and day out, everything in Bucky’s body winds up getting strained and unbalanced. He understands better now, how women fuck up their necks so badly from shouldering their purses (or their tits) around. A little bit of weight makes a big difference.
As a Dom, Bucky may have a tiny problem admitting when he needs help. He has to be in quite a bit of pain, trouble, or both, before he’ll ever speak up and allow himself to be vulnerable like that. It’s an inherent behavior that shrinks have been trying to therapize and medicate out of him since he was a kid, but nothing ever changed it much. Falling in love with Steve helped; Bucky can let himself be more vulnerable around him. But even still, it’s no small thing that he regularly approaches his husband to ask for help in getting his arm back on correctly (Bucky can do it, but it’s a pain in the ass, getting the mechanism lined up just right before it’ll take).
He gets out of the shower and dries off, then approaches Steve with the prosthesis. “Gimme a hand?”
Steve makes a cheerful noise of acknowledgement around his mouthful of toothpaste, spits and rinses, then takes the arm from Bucky. He lines it up just so, and then Bucky feels the deep shudder of the arm’s inner workings coming to life as they recognize their mate. The arm attaches and Steve lets go.
“Thanks babe.”
“Uh huh.”
It’s as Bucky’s bending over and pulling up his underwear and joggers that a spasm runs through his back and he cries out in a pained, “Ah!”
“Babe? What’s wrong?”
Gritting his teeth, Bucky slowly stands back up. He’s able to get his pants up, but when he tests the movement of his neck and shoulders, the pain flares again. It feels like everything between the base of his skull and his mid back is seizing up. “Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated. It’s his day off. He’d been planning to go to the gym for his long workout.
Steve steps up and puts a worried hand on his left shoulder. “Babe? Do you need it off?”
“No. I need some painkillers and a magnesium tablet,” he grunts, already turning around (full body, because turning his head is a bad idea right now). “Fuck.” He starts off for the kitchen.
Steve follows along with worried protests, telling him to lay his “stubborn ass” down and he’ll get it for him. Bucky ignores him and goes to the kitchen cabinet where they keep their supplement stuff. He winds up yelling again when he tries to reach up and grab the ibuprofen. “Fuck!” he says angrily.
“Babe, I said to let me do it,” Steve scolds, his hand back on Bucky’s shoulder. “And let me take this off. It’s hurting you.”
“Steve, back off,” he snaps, angry and waspish from being in pain, and from being frustrated with his own goddamn body.
“What’s going on?”
Bucky turns his head without thinking, hisses in pain, and then turns himself full-body to face in Mary’s direction. She’s standing there looking at the two of them in concern, one hand holding one of those swirly, flaky, crack-cookies that she makes, and the other holding a cup of tea. Her eyes widen at the sight of Bucky’s arm and body, reminding him that this is the first time she’s seen him without a shirt on. “Nothin’,” Bucky grunts.
“Shit,” she says. “Are you guys fighting? Is this a couples’ fight? I’ll just …” She turns to leave back towards her room.
“We’re not fighting,” Steve says. “Buck’s just being an ass. He gets that way when he’s in pain.”
Bucky would turn his head to glare at him, but it isn’t worth another flair of agony in his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he says, when Mary comes back over. “It’s fine,” he stresses. He opens the pill bottle and dumps three capsules into his palm. “Jeez, will everybody stop babying me? I just need a glass of water.”
“I’ll get it,” Steve says, causing Bucky to huff once again. “Don’t be a jerk, babe.”
“Why are you in pain?” Mary asks, her eyes tracing all over the left side of Bucky’s scarred up body. “Is it … does your arm hurt?”
“No. It just fucks up my muscles, sometimes.”
“Your muscles?”
Bucky sighs impatiently. “Steve, do you know where the heating pad is?”
“I’ll have to look.” Steve has returned with a glass of water, and Bucky tosses back the handful of pills, wincing at how even the slight motion of raising his arm up makes his trap twinge in protest. “Ugh.”
“You should get a massage,” Mary suggests, and Bucky fights not to lash out at her. She doesn’t know that one of his biggest pet peeves in life is having other people tell him what he “should” do.
“My PT maxed out back in October,” he tells her. “Doesn’t renew again till January.”
Steve takes the water glass from him once he’s done. “Go lie face down on the bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll find the heating pad.”
“Well I could do it,” Mary blurts out. Both Bucky and Steve pause and look at her. She looks surprised, too, as though she hadn’t been planning to say the words until they were out of her mouth, and now doesn’t know how to continue “Um, that is ..." she gestures weakly with her cookie. “I just meant I know how to, if you wanted.” Eventually her cheeks color and she looks away. “Erm, Nevermind.”
“Wait,” Steve says. When Mary turns back, he’s looking at her earnestly, and Bucky thinks, Oh no. “You know how to give a back massage? Like a real one?”
“Yeah. My, ah, my ex always had neck problems, so.” She shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I took a class at the community college, learned the basics.”
Bucky blinks. That’s the subbiest fucking thing he’s ever heard. “You did this for the husband that beat you?” he drawls, immediately regretting it because it comes out sounding way more derogatory than he intends it to. “Sorry. I just … actually would pay good money for a massage right now. If you know how to do it.”
Mary bites her lip, looking deliciously shy and sweet. Bucky’s mood sours as he realizes that she doesn’t really want to. He’s about to let her off the hook, but then some unconscious movement he makes without meaning to has him flinching in pain again. “Sheezus,” he complains.
“It’s not usually this bad,” Steve worries.
“I must’a slept on it wrong.”
Mary nods, as if this settles it. “Okay. Well, go in the bedroom and tie your hair up so it's out of the way.” She turns to Steve, all but dismissing Bucky now that she’s got a task to complete. Bucky fights back an amused smirk as he heads towards the bedroom, and he hears Mary bossing Steve around, telling him she needs dry oil, the heating pad, towels, and all the seat cushions off the couch.
The fuck does she need those for? Bucky thinks as he pads back into his and Steve’s room.
He finds out a moment later, when Mary and Steve come in with a couch cushion each, and Steve goes back out to get another. They lay them in a line on the bed, and Mary directs Bucky to lie on top of them, with his body placed just so and his face down just there, and … Oh. He gets it.
She’s left space between the cushion under Bucky’s chest, and the next cushion up, which supports his forehead. The gap creates a drop through for his face—like a massage table. And when she shapes the towel into a donut shape and sticks it there, it's pretty much perfect.
“Oh,” Bucky says, as he’s settling into place. “Oh, that’s actually really smart.” He can’t see Mary from his position, but somehow he senses her preening over the praise anyway. Steve returns from the bathroom with the heating pad and oil. “Found this stuffed in the back of the linen closet. I don’t know what ‘jojoba’ is, but, um … it’s either that or the virgin olive out in the pantry.”
“Do not use that,” Bucky grumbles. “Shit’s expensive, and I don’t wanna smell like garlic truffle for the next three days.”
“That’ll work fine.” Mary is totally task focused, ignoring Bucky’s surliness and telling Steve to apply the heating pad across Bucky’s shoulders and neck for thirty minutes before they get started.
“Thirty minutes?!” Bucky complains, unable to see anything but the top of the bedcovers as the two of them go out into the hallway.
“Just relax, Babe,” Steve says (and if Bucky isn’t mistaken, he sounds amused). “Take a nap.”
“I just woke up!” He scoffs at the bedspread when the door quietly ‘snicks’ shut and he realizes that he’s been abandoned. “Well okay then,” he mutters petulantly. Steve is right: he does turn into an ass when he’s in pain. Hmm. Maybe he should work on that.
Steve
Steve turns the tv onto a low volume so they can talk without Bucky hearing. “Sorry about him,” he says. “He’s a humongous jerk whenever he’s feeling crummy.”
“You mean it’s not just all the time?” Mary drawls.
“He’s … just one of those people you have to learn to love before you like them.” Mary raises an eyebrow, and Steve winces. “Er, that sounded harsh. Don’t tell him I said that.”
She twists her lips and looks down. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thanks, Hon. You want more tea?”
“Yes please. There’s more of the palmiers in a baggie next to the coffee pot, if you want any.”
“Heck yeah, I love those things.” Steve had thought the prepackaged ones at Starbucks were good, hadn’t even realized that they weren’t supposed to be all stale and hard like that. Just another commercialized pastry that Mary’s gone and ruined him for. He goes into the kitchen and makes himself coffee and Mary tea, knowing by now how she takes it.
She thanks him silently as he returns and joins her on the couch, both of them sitting close to one another on the chaise, since it’s the only part of the couch that still has its cushion.
"Palmier is French. Know what else they call these?" Mary asks.
Steve's lips quirk. Mary's always got these little facts she knows about the origins of this pastry or that. It's cute. Endearing. "No," he plays along. "What?"
"Elephant ears, because of the shape, see?"
"Oh yeah. Huh. That's neat."
She goes back to eating and sipping at her teacup, and after a moment of unrequited, affectionate staring, Steve looks away. "Elephant ears," he murmurs, trying not to be mopey. "That's funny."
They split the palmiers between them, and aside from the sounds of them munching cookies and sipping their drinks, it’s quiet for a long time. Steve made both the tea and the coffee very hot, so they at least have the excuse of cradling and blowing on their steaming mugs to keep the silence from being too awkward. Mary keeps her eyes trained forward, but Steve gets the sense that she isn’t really paying attention to the home renovation program that’s playing on the tv. His suspicions are confirmed when she eventually asks,
“So: His arm.”
Steve inhales slowly. “Yeah. His arm.”
“What happened?”
Steve frowns. He can tell by her inflection that she’s asking not just about the arm, but about the state of Bucky’s entire left side from shoulder to hip. “We were in the army,” he confides. “Deployed overseas. I made captain young, but he was a specialist in the field: a sniper. So I wasn’t put into the same types of situations as he was. His convoy got blown up by an IED. And when the dust settled …” He shrugs. “No more arm.”
“Oh.” Mary sits there and absorbs that information. “I guess I kind of figured it was something like that. I mean what else is there, besides like, a shark attack or something?”
Steve’s mouth twitches. Shark attack, ha. He’ll have to suggest that one to Buck. Might be fun to lie about, the next time a stranger asks. “Naw, just a boring old bomb. And afterwards, well. It was a long road for him, after. He didn’t have the arm when I met him.”
Mary turns her head, surprised. “Oh. You two didn’t meet in the army?”
“No, after. I met him at the V.A., when he was already angry, hurt, and didn’t want to be where he was.” Steve looks over and gives her a meaningful look. “Kind of like when I first met you.”
Her eyes widen, and then her face colors and she looks away again, pulling her knees up and hunkering over her mug. “Was I really that bad?” she mumbles.
“... You were pretty bad, Honey.”
She frowns and doesn’t say anything, and Steve decides to leave it alone. “So yeah, his arm. He got into a program for experimental cybernetics. It was a big gamble. Back then, he still had his arm down to nearly the elbow, which meant he could use a lot of the different types of prostheses they had on the market. The less arm you have, the less they can do for you. The surgeries for the implant required removal all the way up to and including his left shoulder blade. So if he went through with it and the procedures didn’t work out, he’d be left with less function than he started with.”
“Jeez.”
“Hm, yeah. It was a risk.” Steve stares across the living room as he remembers all of the hospital stays and surgeries and revisions and therapy appointments. “Luckily it worked out. They replaced some bones with metal supports, some of his natural muscle with enhanced synthetic tissue. His body didn’t reject any of the junk they were putting in him, which was the biggest worry. All in all, it took five surgeries over the course of three years, and then a shit ton of physiotherapy. Buck says it was worth it, now, but it wasn’t a walk in the park when it was happening, I’ll tell you that.”
Beside him, Mary makes a sad little noise in her throat. “But … all that and it still gives him pain?”
“Yeah. He gets PT for it, but like he said; it never winds up lasting the full year. I force him to my veterans' support group when I can, but he’s gotta be in a really charitable mood for that.” Steve snorts humorlessly. “He’s always hated being disabled. It doesn’t jive with his DPD. You know that stereotype about men: never wanting to stop and ask for directions?”
“Yeah.”
"Well it's true. And then you take a guy who’s as far on the spectrum as Bucky is, and it’s ten times worse.” He widens his eyes in emphasis and gets a little giggle out of Mary for it, which makes him warm with pride. He pulls his feet up onto the couch next to Mary’s and nudges her knee with his. “Just fair warning: He’s the worst patient I’ve ever seen. So don’t take it personally if he’s grumpy at you in there.”
Mary frowns and looks away. “Well, I mean I don’t have to do this. If he doesn’t want to.”
“Pretty sure he wants to. And he needs help with it, whether his stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.”
She nods, though she still doesn’t look confident. “It’s been over a year since I worked on anybody …”
“Well then this’ll be good practice for you, won’t it?” Steve nudges her again in encouragement and tells her to finish up her tea: He doesn’t expect Bucky’ll lie around patiently for much longer.
(“Oh, and Hon, maybe don’t tell him we were out here talking about him this whole time.”)
(“Duh.”)
In the bedroom, Mary climbs onto the bed next to where Bucky is laid out on the couch cushions. She takes the heating pad off his neck and puts it aside, looking nervously over the broad expanse of his back. “Um …” She reaches for the oil bottle and pumps some into her hands. She spends a long, long time just spreading it between her hands and staring at Bucky, until finally he snaps,
“What’s the holdup?”
“Babe, be nice,” Steve warns. “Mary? You need anything?”
“Um, no. It’s just … usually I'd ..." She makes an aborted move, like she's thinking about repositioning herself, but winds up staying where she is. "Right," she mutters to herself. "This'll work fine." She reaches forward like she’ll start rubbing Bucky’s back, hesitates, shuffles closer to his side, then sets her hands on his shoulders.
Bucky doesn’t so much as twitch, but he’s not used to new people touching him, and Steve would bet money that his eyes are clenched shut right now.
“Okay,” Mary warns. “I haven’t done this in awhile, so don’t get your hopes up for a miracle or anything.”
“Anything’ll be better than what I can do myself,” Bucky says gruffly, voice somewhat muffled by the cushions. “Just go to town. You can’t hurt me any worse.”
Steve can see Mary’s face, and he knows by now what she looks like when she’s flustered. Awkwardly, he steps to the side, heading for the door. “I’ll just go watch some—”
“No!” Mary squeaks, and when Steve turns back around she’s looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t leave,” she says, like being left alone touching Bucky is the worst possible thing that could happen. Steve doesn’t miss how the muscles in Bucky’s arms do tense at hearing her plead for Steve to stay.
“Uhm, okay. I’ll just … be over here.” He leans back against the dresser, feeling almost painfully awkward. Once again, he’s reminded how Mary has shown absolutely no desire to engage in sexual contact with them. He hopes she doesn’t think this is a ploy to force physical contact. She was the one who suggested it, after all.
She starts at the base of Bucky’s skull, rubbing her thumbs in small circles. “As I go along, try to tell me which areas feel the worst,” she murmurs, and Bucky hums in acknowledgement. Steve watches as she pushes and circles and kneads Bucky’s neck, working down on into his shoulders. He’s struck by how feminine and tiny her hands look against Bucky’s body … and then has to steer his mind away from the thought of how tiny they might look in other places.
“Ah, fuck,” Bucky gasps, when she reaches a certain spot on the left side of his neck.
She freezes. “Bad?”
“Nngh. Good,” he slurs. “That whole area from there goin’ down into my back ‘n all around my shoulder blade is where it’s worst.”
“Okay.” She tentatively presses around in and around the left side of his neck and shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It starts right here and goes down.” She slides her hand down the muscle and hums. “Oh, I can feel it.”
(Steve tries really hard not to think sexual thoughts.)
“Riiight here? and … here?"
Between the cushions, Bucky’s voice comes out in a series of garbled moans.
“That’d be a yes,” Steve interprets, and Mary actually shoots him a grin at that. Glad to have cut the tension a bit, he dares to take a few steps closer to the bed. He peers down at what Mary’s doing, the way her fingers dig in at sharp, focused points in some places and rub more gently in others. “It’s your trap that’s the worst,” she mutters distractedly, feeling around with her hands and staring off into space with the tip of her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. It’s cute. “Mmm, but probably your levator scapulae, too. Those tend to get fucked up hand in hand.”
“Mmrr.”
“And here: your rhomboid.”
“Ooh!”
“Tender?”
“Shuyeahhh,” Bucky grunts, then his breath hitches when she digs into another spot. “Oh, yep yep right there. Was’that?”
Steve can’t help but grin. Bucky sounds like he’s drooling at this point.
“Your trapezius muscle. It's big. Does a lot of work, covers a large area. Probably the main offender.” Mary hums and feels around a little more. “Oof, yeah. You’ve got a whole bunch of tension right here.”
“You can feel it?” Steve asks, fascinated. He can't see anything.
“Yeah. Here, gimme your hand.” Steve is taken aback when she grabs his hand and guides his fingers into place, her own smaller hand pressing down. “Riiight there. You feel it?”
Steve swallows thickly. “Ah, yeah.” His eyes flick from her hand on his hand on Bucky’s back, up to her face, and back again before she can catch him looking. “Y-yeah it’s hard.” He grimaces at his choice of words (If he's not careful, "it" soon will be).
“I’m gonna focus on this one for a few minutes,” Mary tells Bucky. Then you can guide me around to the other bad spots.”
“Sounds good,” he slurs. Steve is about to take a step back again, but then Bucky calls out, “Hey Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Pay attention to what she’s doin’. It feels really fuckin’ good.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. You can learn n' do it next time,” he says dreamily. On his back, Mary’s hands still for the briefest of seconds. “S’goood.”
Steve nods and comes back to sit on the bed. “Okay,” he agrees, scooting in close and glancing at Mary. Her face looks pinched all of a sudden, her expression stiffened as if in annoyance. “I promise I’m not as dumb as I look,” he jokes, and watches as her face smooths out and she smiles a little.
“Oh! Oh no it’s … it’s okay, I don’t mind. I’ll teach you how.”
“Don’t mind me, m’just a teaching tool,” Bucky drawls, and Steve laughs and pats his shoulder.
“Yeah you are. So shut up and let her teach.”
Bucky grunts and shuts up. Steve looks to Mary for instruction. He can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she manages to hide it well and keep herself on track. The more he pays attention, the sooner she can get herself out of this and never have to do it again. “Ready to learn,” he tells her.
“Now when you’re doing this, you can get more leverage if you straddle his waist.” She says this like it’s a foregone assumption that she would never dare to sit on Bucky’s waist, and Steve is sure she doesn’t notice the grumpy huff of breath Bucky gives.
“Right,” Steve says, pained. “Okay, so where are the bad spots again?”
“Put your hand here.” She takes his hand again and places it just to the left of Bucky’s spine at the level of his shoulder blade. “Slide your fingers out. There. Feel that difference? Feel how it changes when you move out to just … there?” She guides his fingers, and Steve nods.
“Y-yeah.” Mostly, he’s just thinking about how nice Mary’s warm, oiled, tiny hand feels guiding his hand around. “Yeah.”
“The trap’s on top, but there are other muscles underneath of this one, and that differentiation you feel is where the rhomboid is ending and the—”
She keeps talking, and Steve tries to pay attention and learn, he really does. But his mind is a veritable sieve, for how well he retains the information. It’s all in one ear and out the other, ninety percent of his attention stuck on Mary’s hands on him, guiding him, pressing on his fingers and gliding his touch over Bucky’s skin. Fuck, how did they wind up here?
Eventually, having taught Steve the basics, Mary lets him go and works on Bucky’s shoulders for a little while more. For the most part it’s quiet, with Bucky making soft grunts of pain whenever she finds a new cluster of knotted muscle, and sighs of relief once she works them out.
Her hands linger on Bucky’s mid back when she’s done. She doesn’t seem to know what to do. “Erm. Okay. I think … I think that’s it.”
When neither Bucky nor Steve says anything, she retreats on her own, getting off the bed and looking between Bucky’s prone form and Steve’s sorrowful expression. “So, kay. You can get up, if you want. Just move slowly.”
Bucky’s right hand gives her the thumbs up symbol, but the entire rest of his body doesn’t move. “Thanks Mare. Just give us a second. That was really good. Thank you. Thanks for teaching Steve.”
It’s the “Thanks for teaching Steve” that seems to do it. Mary’s expression firms up and she nods curtly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Steve stays sitting on the bed next to Bucky in silence for a long minute, then says knowingly, “Got a boner?”
“Yep.”
*This chapter would've had the "breaking point," but I don't like to post chapters of more than 4-5000 wordcounts on Tumblr. So the next part will be up in a bit once I fine tune and add to it.
**And to anyone who's only ever had store bought, pre-packaged palmiers: I'm so sorry. Along with Madeleines, those should never be eaten more than a few hours max after they've been baked.
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Loving You is Easy (Demi)
prompt: my baby 🥺 mlb!harry’s exploration of his sexuality and coming out.
word count: 14.3k 🥲
warnings: topics of sexuality, identify issues, bullying, toxic masculinity, smut - 18+ minors dni
Take The Hint takes place in the middle of this fic & so you might want to reread first or when Harry starts to mention YN.
This fic is my baby. I’m so so proud of it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.
Please please like, follow, comment, and reblog ❣️
And I really would love to hear your thoughts so please send me a message about the fic ❣️
-
Assumptions.
That’s what Harry’s life has been based upon since he was in little league because of his perceived dominance and masculinity.
It happened nearly every game, he’d always draw attention because of his skill.
Even at such a young age - as soon as he could bat without the tee to hold the ball, people knew that he was something special.
Women would pinch his cheek and tell his mother to watch out because he was going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies - men would chuckle and joke that they were going to have to hide their daughters from him.
It doesn’t get any better as he grows up, it actually gets worse.
The more notoriety he garners, more attention and not just based on his athletic abilities, his looks landed him almost just as much.
He was good-looking and had above average athleticism, he was irresistible for people to leave alone.
He can’t count the number of times that men have asked him how many girls he had fucked that week because he just had to be getting it all the time.
In all this time of feeling wanted, Harry had never felt more alone.
He felt like there was something wrong with him.
There had to be - because he wasn’t living up to any expectations that society has set for him and had made abundantly clear since he was young.
He was meant to have a girl on his arm, who had to be the societal standard of beautiful who would follow him like a puppy.
Since he was a young teenager, always playing on baseball teams much higher than his age level - coaches and scouts knew that he was destined for the major leagues and it was just a matter of time before they snatched him up.
Girls in high school would swoon over his chiseled jaw, the way his biceps flexed, and the baseball bleachers were riddled with gaggles of giggly girls watching him practice on the pitch.
He didn’t have a break, there wasn’t a day of practice that didn’t go by where girls weren’t coming to watch him as he played.
It was supposed to be flattering but to Harry, it was just frustrating to constantly have all these girls gawking after him when he wasn’t interested.
Harry knew that he should be enjoying all the attention from the female gaze, at least, that’s what he thinks because of how often people are making assumptions about his private life.
But that’s all these things were…
Assumptions.
Harry didn’t care about girls or dating in middle school, never really gave it another thought when he never developed any crushes on the pretty peers who were very much interested in him.
It wasn’t until high school that he realized that there was something wrong with him or so he thought that he wasn’t normal like the other kids.
Harry began to realize that he didn’t have the same interests and urges as his friends who were constantly drooling over girls in short skirts or commenting on their appearances.
He could look at a girl and think she’s pretty but he didn’t have some deep primal urge to ask her over his house so he could get his rocks off like his friends did.
It only became an issue when his so-called friends started teasing him about his lack of social life with the ladies.
They would ask him if he was gay or asexual, asked him if he was still a virgin with all the date offers he gets.
He didn’t know what he was - he didn’t know if he was gay or asexual, he wanted to have sex but he didn’t just want it to be random.
Harry now realizes it wasn’t harmless teasing, not with how much emotional damage it had on his psyche to constantly be questioned about his sexuality.
He hadn’t known what he was.
It had been a late night practice and everyone was talking about the upcoming prom dance.
“Who are you taking, Styles?” Cody, one of his teammates asks as he packs up his bag with his equipment.
“Er, not sure,” Harry shrugs, attempting to come off nonchalant and unbothered by the question - despite how cocky he appeared, he was the furthest thing from confident internally about the topic.
“Come on! I know Lana and Jessie already asked you and they’re the hottest girls in the school! Lana’s tits are massive,” Seth chimes in, offended that Harry would have the nerve to turn down the girls of his teenage dreams.
Harry feels his face get hot because he knows what this is going to turn into very quickly - as it always did.
“Is it because you’re taking your boyfriend? Or yourself? Your hand can’t be your only date forever!” Cody crows, Harry’s hackle standing up at the jab and he feels himself getting hot.
“Mind your own fucking business,” Harry huffs out instead, swinging his pack over his shoulder and turning on his heel to leave.
“You know for how good you are at baseball, nobody would know you’re a virgin. Great in the field, a dud in the sheets,” Conner can’t help but add in, all the boys were chuckling as they changed.
Harry is still trying to be the bigger person by continuing to walk away but when Seth snickers, “Y’know what I think? He’s so good at baseball because he’s making up for his small dick.’
Everyone has a breaking point.
They had managed to get Harry to hit his, which was an accomplishment but the subject of his sexuality had become more and more tender over the past few months as he really started to understand his dilemma.
Harry drops his bag at his feet, storming towards Seth with his fist coming up, raised and about to swing when their coach appears to stop anything from happening.
Seth is frowning with his hands up in surrender, eyes wide as he realizes Harry was actually mad, “I was just joking around with you. Take a fucking joke.”
“The only joke in this locker room is your baseball abilities,” Harry snarls back, it was quite the insult coming from their captain and Seth's face drops even more than before.
“Styles, hit the road,” Coach Greggs orders, pointing towards the exit of the lock room with a serious expression - disappointment in his star player’s behavior.
-
When Harry gets home, he bypasses his mum and sister without even a hello before he’s running upstairs to his room and slamming the door shut.
He hates feeling like this.
Like he didn’t even know who he was.
How difficult could it be to figure out what or who you’re attracted to?
He was trying to convince himself he wasn’t broken, he knew all his body parts worked, it wasn’t anything but pure mental blockage.
Thinking about having someone lay next to him in his bed, they’re kissing, taking off clothes - Harry likes the idea of that.
However, it’s not just anyone, it’s not a random hookup.
He imagines it being someone he’s in love with, he’s so fucking fond of, and they know each other so intimately - its just them in their little world, no one else had this experience but them together.
But that doesn’t make any sense.
That’s not a thing.
Harry always felt normal beside this but this was major.
This was detrimental that he figured out what his issue was or he would never have a partner, get married, have kids.
Sure, he'd probably be a successful baseball player but may be the oldest virgin on this earth if he didn't shake this feeling.
Harry decides that same night that he's going to go against his instincts and just ask a girl to the dance - maybe once he put himself out there it will change.
And as Harry was thinking about it, he wouldn't necessarily be against asking a boy either but he's not sure he's ready to explore that idea right now.
He didn't feel excited at the aspect of having a date but instead just a sad relief that his teammates won't bother him anymore.
It felt lonely and isolating.
-
Harry brings flowers the next day, he knows which girl he wants to ask, Yazmin - he knew she had a crush on him and she was nice, not overly concerned with what others thought of her.
The other reason he is choosing her is because she is one of the many who had made it extremely obvious that she would instantly say yes to him if he asked and he was really not trying to get rejected either.
He feels bad he's not very enthusiastic when she accepts and draws him into a massive hug with her face buried in his neck.
To avoid coming off as rude, he hugs her back until it becomes too much for him and he's pulling back with a forced smile.
The lunchroom is filled with envious glares from other girls who had either been dropping hints to Harry that they wanted to go with him or they'd be too nervous to be forward and are boiling with envy.
Yazmin begins to talk about colors, her dress, everything that people should be looking forward to for the event.
Harry...well, he was just hoping that after he asked her and she accepted that he would feel something, anything towards her whether it was a bit of fondness or admiration.
There wasn’t a question that she was pretty, her long thick black curls that fell down her back, her warm brown eyes, and wide smile.
But there was nothing, absolutely nothing that was attracting him to her at this moment as she babbled on about cool versus warm tones.
-
After baseball practice, he wanders in to his mum and sister sitting at the dinner table - just beginning their meal as they chat.
When he drops his backpack and duffle bag near the entryway and joins them - he's tired from all the drills and doesn't say anything more than 'hi' as he begins digging in.
"Mrs. Fields told me today that you asked Yazmin to the dance," Anne smiles with bright eyes, she was proud that he was putting himself out there - she worried about him.
Harry feels his stomach churn, he's short when he replies, not looking up from his plate, "Yeah."
"I'm so happy for you, this is going to be so exciting," Anne says before taking a sip of her tea and patting his hand.
"She's pretty too," Gemma adds to the conversation, "I think you guys are going to make a cute couple."
"I'm not dating her," Harry says sharply, using a bit more force to stab at his vegetables, "It's just an invite to a stupid dance. That's it."
"I know, dear. It's just that we haven’t seen you interested in any girls at your school and I want you to enjoy your high school experience-"
"Can I not enjoy high school without a girlfriend? Is me not being not a star athlete enough?" Harry is getting loud which isn't like him to every raise his voice at his mother, "Why does everyone fucking care? I just want to be left the fuck alone about it!"
With that, Harry is slamming down his silverware, snatching his backpack off the floor, and storming up to his room with the door shutting and the lock being flicked.
-
Harry doesn't come out of his room that night and refuses to speak more than a few words to them through the door.
The next morning when Harry comes down for school, dressed and ready to go, Anne tries to smooth over the situation.
She didn't know what was going on with her son and that was a new uncomfortable feeling for her - usually he was open about everything with her.
Anne didn't know what she said that had triggered the response he'd given and despite how much she wanted to talk to him about it, she knew that she shouldn't force him.
"Harry," Anne speaks up when he steps into the kitchen to make his morning protein drink, " I want to talk about last night."
"There's nothing to talk about, s'fine," He brushes off stiffly as he reaches for one of his shaker bottles and container of protein mix.
"There is. I clearly upset you last night," Anne's voice is soft and cautious, "I'm sorry. I love no matter if you want to date or not, I'm proud and excited for you no ma-"
"There's nothing wrong with me!" Harry bites back as he tries to scoop out the powder, hands shaking with some strong emotion, and it spills onto the countertop.
"I didn't say there was," Anne furrows her brow, she felt like they were on two difficult wavelengths and not really speaking the same language - having two different conversations.
"Shouldn't everyone care that I'm lined up to go pro or that with all this training, I still get straight A's," Harry scoffs as he pours the water and shakes it harshly, "Why is everyone so focused on who I'm going to sleep with?"
And with that, he's grabbing his stuff and leaving the house - Anne stunned as she sits at the breakfast nook unsure of how an innocent conversation at dinner has led to an ongoing tense back and forth with her son.
-
Yazmin is all over him and Harry is quickly realizing that him inviting her to the dance was also interpreted as him asking her to be his girlfriend.
But when she sat down next to him at lunch, her hand moving to intertwine with his - he didn't push her off but instead could only think about the whole lunch period about how he didn't want to be holding hands with her.
However, he noticed that all of his friends had their girlfriends cuddled up on them too and seemed to enjoy it when their girl curled into them or kissed their cheeks.
He played along.
-
In the locker room, after practice, well Harry wishes he could skip changing and go home because he was starting to not enjoy this time around his teammates.
"Yazmin, man," Hunter laughs as he sits on the bench to kick off his cleats, "It's no surprise you wait until the last minute to ask a girl out and you pick the hottest girl at school."
Harry shrugs as he shoves his jersey into his duffle, shoulders already tensing because of the conversation topic, "Yeah, she's nice.”
"Nice? You mean has nice tits," Luke adds and the other boys howl loudly as they mock breasts with their hands coming up their chests, "She's got huge ones. Let me know how they look when you get her topless."
Harry shakes his head, face turned away towards his locker- even though his teammates are being pigs, he wishes he could relate in a way.
He hadn't even looked at her chest or maybe he had but it didn't elicit any type of sexual response that made him want to get her naked.
It seemed like every other guy in the room had the identical response except him - normal teenage boys cared about boobs, really no matter who they belonged to.
"Yeah, I saw Casey's pair last night," Josh adds with a cocky smirk, "Let me touch 'em and everything."
Luckily, that conversation distracts the boys enough to lay off of Harry - now to focused on Josh's experience with his girlfriend.
They don't even notice when he slips out the door to head home as they all joke around and share stories.
Life was just..
Harry was miserable.
He dreaded going to school because of all the eyes on him, the fact that Yazmin wanted to be with him every free second, or his friends who were always talking about something girl or sex-related.
At practice, he got hounded by his teammates about the same things everyday and had to hear tales that he didn't assimilate to in the slightest.
At home, he was now in this weird limbo where he knows his mom and sister feel like they're walking on eggshells because of his moodiness that he refuses to talk about.
The ideas of relationship and sex were closing in on him from every angle and he just didn't want to talk about it.
He wished that when he was born someone just smacked a label on his forehead that said 'gay', 'straight', 'asexual', something so that he didn't have to figure this out himself.
Why was it so fucking difficult?
He felt broken, like his brain wasn't functioning correctly because he couldn't even decipher his own thoughts or feelings.
He'd always felt like this in a way but now that he is at the age where people begin to get into relationships and have sex - it's in the forefront of his mind.
He just has to get through the dance with Yazmin, that's it - he at least has to try to see this through with dating her.
-
Harry knows he's been pulling away from his family too but he doesn't feel like he's able to help it - he can’t explain what’s going on and he doesn’t want to be shunned by them too.
Because he feels like if he talked to them he'll blurt out, "I might not be straight" or "I don't know what's going on with me."
He used to think that he thought about it a lot but ever since he asked Yazmin to the dance - the only time he doesn't think about it is when he's on the field or working out.
Baseball is his only escape.
When all the boys are going out after the game, the weekend before the dance, they were all inviting their girlfriends to join them.
He didn't want to be an asshole so he knew it was only right to invite Yazmin too - he didn't want her to feel left out.
When they're all in the pizza shop, it's nearly ten at night, and they're all still sipping on Coke and eating pizza after winning the game.
Yazmin is sat next to him in the long booth, their thighs smooshed together, and she wraps her arm around his - resting her head on his shoulder.
It's a nice gesture and Harry feels guilty that he wants to push her away so he lets it happen and tries not to think too much about it.
The conversation turns into the afterparty for prom, they were renting a cabin in a nearby state park, and were planning to drink and have a campfire.
Harry had agreed to go but he really hadn't thought of the implications until Harry is driving Yazmin home that night and she seems nervous in the passenger seat.
"Is everything okay?" Harry asks as he navigates out of the pizza's shop's parking lot and towards her house.
"Yeah. It-It's just, are you excited about the dance? You weren't very talkative in there," She points out, she seems a bit disappointed but hides it behind a small smile.
Harry sighs, he doesn't know how to address it, so he lies, "I am excited, really. It's just been crazy with baseball. I'm sorry it didn't seem like I was in there. Just tired, I guess."
Yazmin perks up immediately, "It's okay, I just wanted to check. I'm used to you being really outspoken and talkative so I was just making sure."
Harry moves his hand over to her, resting it on the lower part of her thigh, near her knee, and squeezes, "It's gonna be fun."
"I can't wait for you to see me in my dress," She replies, her smile widened with his touch as she moves to put her hand over his.
"I'm sure you'll be gorgeous," He fake smiles, keeping his eyes on the road, they're nearly to her house and he presses the gas pedal a little harder.
As they pull up, Yazmin takes a deep breath before asking, "Are you going to bring protection to the cabin?"
Harry gives her a puzzled look, confused for a second by what she means by protection and she grimaces when she realizes he's confused.
"Condoms? I'm on birth control but I want to make sure we're being safe," She adds sheepishly, looking down at her hands.
How was she already talking about sex when they haven't even went further than kissing?
He didn't think he'd be expected to get intimate with someone this fast in a relationship.
"Oh, er," Harry stammers, just as embarrassed as her, his throat felt tight," Yeah, I'll definitely bring some. If that's what you uh, if that's what you want to do."
For objectively being the most popular boy in school, it was really quite ironic how backwards he was compared to the other people in his grade.
He was eighteen, everyone already assumes that he lost his virginity by this point, and it shows - he wonders if she can tell.
"I'd like to," Yazmin responds before leaning over to kiss him, she parts her lips and Harry matches her but it doesn't feel as nice as he thinks it's supposed to.
They kiss for a while in the car that night until his lips are puffy and swollen but Harry doesn't even remotely feel a twinge of any arousal.
As he drives home that night, he punches his steering wheel a few times- letting out frustrated screams into the car because he just wants to be like everyone else.
-
The actual event of prom goes fine.
It's easy smiling for pictures, eating at a fancy restaurant, and then going to the hotel where they all dance around to the music without anything being too serious.
The issue comes when they get to the cabin and everyone is starting to disappear from the campfire up to their own bedrooms with their significant others.
Harry waits as long as possible, until the flames legitimately start to fizzle out - he hadn't even touched any alcohol, neither had Yazmin.
She was getting impatient as she begins to wrap their hands together and kiss at his neck before finally asking, "Ready to go to our room?"
Harry agrees because he can't stay out here forever, he had bought condoms even though he was pretty sure they wouldn't be using them.
He bought them in the hopes that maybe, magically that once his body knew he had the oppurtunity to have sex that he would be interested enough to do so.
When they're up in the bedroom, Yazmin is on him, her lips finding his and kissing like they were that night in the car.
He can tell that she's nervous too but she seems much more excited and eager as she tugs off his shirt and runs her hands over his stomach before going for his athletic shorts.
She kneels down and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut because when she pulls down his shorts - he's not at all hard.
It doesn't seem to deter her, she leans down to begin to stimulate him, and nothing happens as she does it - it’s not those amazing fireworks that his friends talk about.
He knows there’s a silent tear slipping from his eye when she finally pulls back when she realizes something isn't right.
"I'm sorry," Harry says with the most embarrassment he's ever felt in his life, "I'm- I'm sorry, Yazmin."
Yazmin pulls his shorts back up for him before standing in front of him, she puts her hand to his jaw and says quietly, "Look at me."
Harry blinks his eyes open, trying to hold in his tears as she looks at him with a concerned expression.
"Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn't mean to force you to do -" She begins to apologize profusely, getting upset herself.
It snaps him out of his own mind and his voice is firm when he interrupts her, "Hey, no. No, you didn't do anything wrong, I promise. It's me, you're-you're wonderful and pretty. It-s me."
Yazmin’s face washes with relief as he speaks, she reaches to take his hands but it's more of a friendly gesture.
"Are you..." She trails off, not wanting to make any assumptions about him.
"I don't know," He says honestly, choking up a bit on the words, "I'm really trying to figure it out and I just feel broken. This proves I am."
"You're not broken, Harry," Yazmin smiles as she shakes her head like he’s silly, "You're just figuring it out and that's okay."
"I know you don't owe me anything after all this but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone," Harry mumbles as he laughs a big self-deprecating.
"My lips are sealed. If anyone asks, we had amazing hot sex," She giggles as she walks over to her bag to pull out pajamas, "Want to watch a movie?"
And his prom night actually wasn't as awful as it started out, Yazmin and him laid in the massive king bed and watched a few older horror movies and made fun of the bad acting.
At some point they drift off to sleep, when they wake up, they're not necessarily cuddled together but Yazmin's arm is slung over his stomach.
He thinks to himself, this isn't too bad, and just that little thought alone makes him feel like he may not be as lost of a cause as he sometimes feels.
-
Yazmin and him stayed friends after they 'broke up' and she never spoke a word about what happened that night and to her, he'll always be eternally grateful that kind, understanding people exist.
The summer before college, he realized that he needed to actually take the time to explore his sexuality through research instead of continuing a pity party for himself.
He could narrow down that he wasn't entirely straight because the idea of him being in love with someone other than a female didn't sound obscure or unappealing to him.
He didn’t think it mattered who he fell in love with, it wouldn’t be purely based on their gender.
The idea of sex didn't repusle him, he wanted to have sex and he knew that he wasn't asexual.
He wanted to have a partner and have sex.
That's when it stuck with him.
Everytime he thought about having sex with someone, it was a partner, someone he was in a strong romantic relationship with - but he didn't think that was a specific sexuality.
One day, he's watching some reality television show, and when they're introducing the contestants - someone on the screen identifies themselves as demisexual.
He'd never heard that term before and he curiously puts it into the search engine on his phone to figure out the definition.
That's when he reads the definition that changes it all.
"Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in whcih a person feels sexually attracted to someone only after they've developed a close emotion with them."
Harry felt like he was having an epiphany and that the world fell still for a moment - it was like finding the puzzle piece he had been missing for years of his life.
It finally fucking made sense.
It made so much sense that he started crying, full on sobbing as he held his head with disbelief that something clicked.
Anne, who was in the kitchen, making dinner, hears the sniffles and rushes in, concerned when she finds her son crying which was completely out of the norm.
"Harry, honey," Anne coos softly, sitting down next to him and brushing his hair off his forehead before wrapping her arm around his shoulders, "What's gotten you so upset?"
"M'not upset, mom," Harry chuckles as she tries to wipe away some of his tears with the sleeve of her shirt, "I just-, I don't know how you'll react when I tell you."
"Is it bad?" Anne asks worriedl, tugging him in closer like he was still a little boy and not a big, tall athlete that was way larger than her.
"I-I'm, it's about me," Harry stutters, his thoughts now racing for a different reason, this wasn't on how he planned to tell his mother any of this but he didn't want to lie to her either.
He wanted to be himself and he wanted his family to know who he is.
"I've been struggling with, erm, who I am for a really really long time," Harry begins, his eyes glued to his feet, "And I..I finally figured it out."
"I'll love you no matter what you're going to tell me, Harry Edward,” Anne says firmly, tilting his chin so that their eyes meet and he can tell how serious she is.
"I'm pansexul and demisexual," Harry breathes out, saying it into the unvierse for the first time, it felt like a massive weight has been lifted off of his chest, "It means that I am attracted to people regardless of their gender and that I'm only sexually attracted to that person after we established a emotional bond.”
"How long have you known?" Anne asks as she holds him closer.
"I-I've known that I wasn't st-straight for a long time but I-I didn't know what exactly I was until now," Harry stutters out through tears, Anne can't remember the last time she saw her son cry and his face was damp with emotion.
"I am so proud of you," Anne murmurs but her voice was firm and serious, she moves to cup his cheeks until he's making eye contact with her, "So so proud of who you are."
"Y-You're proud of me?" Harry repeats back in a whisper, his heart felt like it was beating fast enough it was going to leap out of his chest.
"Of course I am," She laughs softly, like it was ridiculous that he could think that she wouldn't be filled with pride, "I love you so much. My little boy."
She kisses both of his cheeks before wiping the tears away once more.
Anne isn't expecting it when Harry hugs her tightly, his face tucked into her shoulder as he hides away for a moment.
She rubs his back lightly and just holds him as he sniffles, she hadn't cuddled him like this is so long but he clung to her for a long while as she whispered words of love.
-
Gemma is the second person that he decides that he needs to come out - he's not as worried about her reaction as his mum but it still wasn't going to be fun for him.
She had gotten home from work and disappeared into her room to most likely working on college homework like she did nearly everyday.
Harry knocks and when she calls for him to come in, he's sheepish as he comes to sit on her bed next to where she has her textbooks splayed out.
"I have something to tell you," Harry starts off after taking a deep inhale of breath, why was he so nervous? It was just Gemma.
But everyone reacts differently, people he think would be supportive of him may not agree with it and give him pushback or worse disown him.
He was nervous because he couldn't lose his sister but he also couldn't stand not living his truth any longer.
"If you took my laptop charger one more time and broke it, I swear to -" She begins with a frown as she closes her book to glare at him.
"No, it's...well," Harry begins to trip over what he wants to say and now maybe isn't the right time, maybe he should think it through more than this, "Forget about it."
Gemma realizes quickly that something isn't right, she reaches out to grab his arm and tug him back down, "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"I have something that I want to tell you," He reiterates with a sigh, "I just don't know how you'll feel about it."
Harry explains what he had explained earlier to his mother to her, she listens intently and doesn't try to crack any jokes while he's speaking.
After he's done with what he feels like is rambling, he hesitantly looks up to meet her gaze.
"How did you think I would feel?" Is the first thing she asks.
Harry's brow furrows in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"You said you were worried about how I would feel about you telling me," Gemma explains from before he told her.
"Ju-Just that you'd be disappointed in me," Harry hates that he's been crying so much lately but he begins to sniffle.
"Oh, Harry," Gemma titters, swiping her school things off the bed so she can drag him into a hug, just like his mother did, "I would never be disappointed in you for being who you are. I love you. I'm happy that you finally feel like you've figured it out."
"I hope I find someone," Harry chuckles, wiping his face on his hoodie, "I hope I find someone who will understand, that I'll be able to fall in love with and have a normal relationship."
"It will happen," Gemma hums as she pulls back, "Just like with you figuring this out. It won't happen overnight. Now get out, I have to study."
-
It really doesn't happen overnight or anytime soon.
He will say that getting in to college and knowing his sexuality even if he hadn't been with anyone had let him slip back into the cocky role that he was used to.
Harry had no problem flirting with girls and guys at frat parties to keep up appearances - even though he wasn't interested in sleeping with them.
It kept his teammates from questioning him because when they saw him at parties, giving a girl his million dollar smile and telling her she's cute - they figured he was sleeping with them.
He didn't enjoy going to parties because it was only fun to fake flirt for a little bit before he wanted to leave because people were trying to get him alone in a bedroom.
Luckily, baseball and sponsorships took up a majority of him time so he wasn't expected at many frat celebrations with how rigorous his workouts and training schedule were.
Tonight though, he didn't have an excuse to not come because they had three days off that weekend.
Everyone convinced him to come, it wasn't a bad time really but he couldn't drink because he'd be kicked off the team if he got hit with an underage drinking fine.
(They definitely wouldn't kick their star player off the team but he would be in deep shit and would much rather avoid that.)
Harry had been trying to get to know people on campus, trying to create the emotional attachment that he was searching for but it wasn't easy.
It felt fucking impossible.
He learned very quickly that he couldn 't just will it to magically happen and that he has issues building those bonds with anyone.
There was a girl named Halee who he had been talking to for the past few weeks, they met in one of his statistics classes and he tried to make an effort with her.
He took her out to dinner twice, listened to her talk for ages, and he waited to feel the spark after consistently seeing her for a month.
There was nothing there.
She was at the party tonight, they hadn't gone any further than making out because Harry didn't want to force himself to do that.
Halee manages to get him alone in his frat bedroom later that night, stating that she needed to talk to him alone, and he knows it’s bad that he’s hoping she wants to break up.
But when his bedroom door shut, her lips were on his and she was pushing him back towards the bed - the exact opposite of what he wanted.
When he falls backwards onto his bed, she's crawling on top of him to straddle him, never taking her lips from his as her thighs come onto either side of him.
Harry's hands come to her hips, knowing he should try to enjoy it but also that it was no use despite how hard she grinded her hips into his.
After a few minutes, she pulls back and palms at him - completely expecting to find him hard and ready for her but...nothing.
He's not hard.
Halle gives him a confused look, she'd never had an issue with a college guy’s libido before, and she knew she was attractive.
Harry can feel his face turning red with shame but manages to give her a reasonable lie, "I think it's just because I've drank so much. I'm pretty wasted."
That seems to satisfy her concern because she giggles and drags him back to the party, promising that they can try again when they haven't been drinking so much.
However, he knows that's not going to happen because he fully plans on sending her an 'im sorry, its just not working out' text tomorrow morning.
Harry doesn't stay at the party much longer before he's retreating up to his room and locking the door to shut everyone out.
Sure, he's become more acepting of his own sexuality but it doesn't mean that it doesn't fucking suck that he can't just have a casual hook up.
The fact is the only sexual interactions he's had are where girls are coming onto him, he has to make an excuse or they'll see he's not physically into it which makes everything ten times worse.
Harry feels that sinking feeling coming back that he remembers well from his senior year of high school.
He remembers thinking that because he finally identified what sexuality he was that it was the code to cracking his life long struggle.
He wonders often whether he's truly waiting to meet the right person or if it's just something that is wrong with him.
The fake flirting, turning people down who come onto him, dating people he has no real interest in.
At some point it doesn't feel worth it to try to find his person , he wonders if there just isn't a person for him and that's a really lonely thought.
-
(Take The Hint) - One Shot
This girl makes him want to scream.
He didn't mean to break her fucking ipad and she has the nerve to run to the school newspaper and write an article about him.
He had apologized when it happened but she hadn't been willing to accept it, that wasn't his fault.
Harry had never had such a critique in a school paper before and he wasn't going to stand for it.
He doesn't know why he feels the need to go back and forth with this journalist from the paper but he can't stay away.
After their back and forths, he finds himself bringing her food a few times to the newspaper's office after he gets done with a long day of training.
Harry's intruigued that this girl doesn't seem to give a fuck about who he is and really hasn't given him the time of day.
But he finds himself looking forward to picking up a sandwich for her so that she can try to refuse it and give him a shy smile when he doesn't take no for an answer.
It sounds a bit dumb, Harry has spent so much of his time worried about finding the right person or building this emotional bond that he fucking misses it when it's right in front of him.
When YN walks out onto the field that day, leans over the fence and connects their lips for the first time - his insides feel like they're going to combust.
His stomach feels warm with excitement, he's eager to kiss her back, he wants to kiss her back and not stop for anything.
When she pulls away, he wants to pull her back, and join their lips again - he's never wanted to do that before.
Then when she asks, "Are you going to ask me out or what?"
Holy fucking hell.
He has never said yes sooner.
Harry was an idiot.
He didn't see that their back and forth over the past few months (even if a few of those were fights) was flirting and building this god damn connection.
It didn't seem like it at the time because in the past, he had to make conscious efforts to build relationships.
It happened naturally with her, he didn't have to think about 'wanting' to kiss her, forcing time together - he wanted to do all those things without having to plan it.
As he's walking back to the frat from practice that night, his mind is racing because he thinks he might have finally done it.
He found his person.
Harry didn't want to give his hopes up but he just hasn't felt like this before - he's had hundreds of opportunities with the smartest, most attractive people and he's never gotten that warm feeling in his stomach around any of them.
He was thinking about the next time he would get to kiss her and really kiss her - it made him feel something new but it was thrilling.
-
Harry has never felt more nervous in his life, he'd changed his outfit at least five times, and fluffed his hair a hundred more.
It was funny, outside looking in, despite how cocky Harry appeared to everyone - he really wasn't like that at all.
He hoped that YN would like him and he was worried because even though she forgave him, they really didn’t get off on the right foot.
There was another anxious thought bubbling up, what if he's getting too excited and it is another relationship that falls flat.
Harry nearly wants to back out because he doesn't think he can be let down like that again - he just wants to be loved and love someone.
They're set to meet at a small italian restaurant off of campus, Lorenzo's, and Harry arrives first.
Shet not there yet but he's also a few minutes early, he's trying to talk himself out of a nervous breakdown when a group approaches him, a group of middle-aged men who want to talk to the Harry Styles.
Harry smiles politely, answering questions about the upcoming games, and what he thought of their last win.
When they finally bid him goodbye after a few minutes, the group disperse and waiting patiently is YN with a small smile.
"You're really popular, huh? The Harry Styles," She greets, it was teasing but not in a mean way more curious than anything.
And Harry's mouth felt dry because she looked fucking beautiful like the prettiest thing he's ever seen.
In a form-fitting orange dress, her skin tone was complimenting the vibrant color and her curves were other worldly. ***
Harry knows, absolutely knows he wasn't just trying to make this work, he was undoubtedly attractive to her.
It was the fact that he wanted to see what lay beneath the dress, the way her breasts sat made it hard to control his gaze.
More importantly, her smile was wide and heartbreakingly gorgeous as she stared a bit confused, waiting for him to say something.
"You are gorgeous," Harry manages, it wasn't a line, it was the truth, "Sorry, you took my breath away for a moment if I'm being honest."
YN lets out a shy giggle, her hands smoothing the sides of her dress as a nervous tick, as she steps closer to him.
"You don't look too bad yourself, quite handsome actually," YN compliments, reaching out for Harry's hand so he can guide them inside.
The cocky attitude drops over dinner, well it never appeared in the first place, and YN was appreciative of that.
YN was intelligent, funny, kind, and quite honestly, everything Harry's ever wanted as she snorts out her drink at a dumb joke he makes.
She kicks off heels halfway through the appetizer and rests her foot on his thigh like they've known each other for ages.
He can't help but reach down and squeeze her ankle, fingers dancing along the ridge of the bone, and laughing when he tickles her enough to make her squeak.
For the first time, it doesn't feel forced, he doesn't have to remember that he should want to touch his date.
Harry is interested in everything she has to say from her experience on the newspaper to how she accidentally broke into a museum while she was in high school.
He finds himself laughing genuinely, not counting down the minutes until the date is over, in fact, he doesn't want it to end.
"You're actually a nice guy," YN murmurs towards the end of dinner when their plates are near empty, "Who would have guessed."
Harry winces at the dig, putting his silverware down and looking at her seriously, "I am sorry about how I treated you. I was being a douche. I don't always feel like I have a lot going for me and baseball is what I'm good at and to have that article written was a hit on my ego."
It was the most honest he's ever been with someone but he didn't even think twice about revealing his most vulnerable thoughts to her.
YN's face twist in confusion, "What do you mean you don't have a lot going for you? You have a guarantee in going pro, you have a ton of friends, and you have no shortages of girls around you."
Harry knew he wasn't ready to delve into his sexuality conversation with her, he hasn't ever talked to anyone outside of his family and Niall about it.
Instead of admitting what really makes him feel low - his sexuality and lack of relationships, he just shrugs and says, "I don't know. It's just..It's not alway easy."
"I imagine, it's a lot of pressure on you at all times. Everyone watching your every move," She agrees, her eyes are soft and she can tell Harry's thinking about something.
She doesn't force him to tell her, instead she reaches across the table for his hand and takes it in hers - but she doesn't let go.
Throughout dessert, they hold hands across the table until Harry is feeding YN a piece of strawberry cheesecake and it ends up on her lips instead of in her mouth.
"You did that on purpose," YN laughs, her tongue peeking out to wipe the sweetness away but misses the corner of her lips.
"Missed a spot," Harry chuckles, he leans over to wipe it off with his thumb and when he does, she takes his thumb in her mouth - just for a mere moment to lick it off with a cheeky smile.
Harry feels himself actually start to harden in his pants and he almost wants to panic because that's never happened before - even when girls have tried way more sexy things to get his attention.
It had been a simple but intimate gesture, it wasn't even groundbreaking to YN, she went back to eating her gelato without another thought about the interaction.
Harry had to will himself to calm down, his mind racing to her plump lips and the way it wrapped around his thumb.
If he had any doubt that YN was his person, it was completely gone now - he hadn't even known her long but to say he was infatuated with her was an understatement.
He couldn't find one thing about her that he didn't like from her beauty to her intellect to the way she giggles with a little snort when something was extra funny.
It felt like his world was shaping to revolve around hers but that scared him on the same end that he hadn't known her that long - their emotional connection was just that strong.
After the date, Harry offers to walk her home because she lives in the campus dorms - just like at dinner, very soon into the walk she takes off her heels and shoves them in her purse.
Harry doesn't know if he should make a move, this was all so fucking new, and he felt like he was years behind on what he should know, basics about dates.
YN wasn't hesitant or coy, she quickly intertwined their hands as they walk, bumping shoulders as she points out where her classes are at certain buildings and what she hates about some of her awful professors.
Harry wants to cry because it's just so nice to hold someones fucking hand, that's all he's wanted for so long.
When they arrive at her building, YN digs out her keycard, giving him a pouty expression, "I'm sad our date’s over. I really did have a good time."
"I had an amazing time," Harry tells her seriously, "Will you go out with me again?"
YN squints up at him, with puckered lips, "I'll have to think about it."
Harry's heart drops.
"Oh my god," YN bursts out laughing, "Your face. Of course, I'll go on another date with you, I had fun."
"S'not funny," Harry mumbles grumply as she giggles at his reaction.
"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you," YN hums, stepping into his space and leaning up until their lips meet.
Harry's frozen for a moment, it feels like sparks, like everything finally makes sense but he doesn't realize that he actually physically froze because YN is pulling back.
"Shit, I'm sorry I though-" She begins to apologize profusely, thinking she read the situation wrong.
Harry takes a deep breath, channeling his confidence, and he steps forward into her space now - hands coming to cup her face and bring their lips together passionately.
Their lips move in perfect synchronization, his tongue swiping against her lips until she opens, and he can get entrance.
Her hand comes up to his neck, keeping him close as they kiss, it feels like his first real kiss, and he can't get enough.
When they finally pull back for air, her lips are swollen and she has a starry-eyed smile on her face.
"Goodnight, Harry," YN murmurs softly, pecking his lips one last time before swiping her card and going into her building.
Fucking hell, he was gone for her.
-
He could not stop thinking about her.
Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes squinted when she was teasing him - this had to be what being in love felt like.
Could it be this easy?
As soon as he gets home, he sends her a text.
Thanks for giving me a chance. I really had a great time. Are you free next Friday?
It barely takes any time for her to respond and he finds his lips turning down at her response.
Are you fucking with me?
He decides to take the more cautious route, reading his text conversation, and he doesn't think he said anything wrong.
No? Did I offend you??
Yes.
As soon as he receives the message he's typing out an apology for whatever he might have said to trigger her to be upset but right before he hits send, another text pops in.
Offended you're not asking me to hang out sooner.
Harry totally does not squeal like a school girl as he smiles stupidly at his phone for the next few moments before remebering to actually text back.
I have a game tomorrow and Sunday but we could hang out Monday night x
They agree on that.
-
When the next day comes, he feels more energized than ever to do good on the field today - he always thrived but YN was really boosting his confidence and overall happiness.
He struts on to the field, he always displayed arrogance on the field no matter how he was feeling on the inside - he wanted to intimidate people and let them know that he's the best.
At the mound, he kicks the dirt a bit and adjusts his hat in a little ritual he always did before scanning the crowd - it was always a full house in the stadiums because of him.
His eyes do a quick skim of the crowd but stop when he's sees YN sitting in the stands without her iPad or notepad - she's sitting with a friend.
Harry's heart leaps as he gives a dimply smile that was exclusively for and he tips his cap towards her in greeting.
She blows him an exaggerated kiss and a small wave as the announcers begin the game.
Harry doesn't know if he's ever had a game that good - he had been on fire the whole time, multiple strikeouts, a home-run, and overall good plays.
When the game’s over after the post-game interview and compliments, instead of heading straight to the showers, he wants to talk to YN but she's no longer in the stands.
He tries not to think too hard about it as he goes into the locker room to shower, in a noticeable less than happy mood.
Harry's actually the last one out, he drags his feet getting into the showers, and lets the hot water just hit against his sore muscles.
By the time he gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and stepping over to his duffel - he nearly screams when someone appears in the locker-room.
"What's taking you so long? I've been waiting out there for ages," YN complains with a raised eyebrow, a smirk on her face when she's met with his strong, damp chest - his pec twitches.
"Er," Harry stammers as he stares wide eyed at her, "I didn't think you were waiting for me."
YN shakes her head, "Why wouldn't I? Am I being too subtle about dropping hints that I like you?"
Harry’s chest seizes because he doesn't want her to think that, "No no, it's me. M'sorry I'm fucking this up. I just, yeah..."
I just can't tell you why yet.
Be patient with me.
"I know you've been with a lot of people, okay? I'm not here to use you and lose you. I want to see where this goes," YN seems frustrated as she explains herself.
"I do too. M'sorry," He apologizes again, the opposite of the cocky asshole she met, "I'm really, really into you."
And you're the first person I've said that to without lying.
"Yeah?" Her words are quiet, bashful as she glances down at her feet for a moment, like she wanted to hear the affirmations from him.
"Of course, you're gorgeous, smart, out of my league, if I'm being honest," He tells her with a raspy chuckle.
"I think you have it backwards," YN murmurs but she's walking towards him, and just like yesterday, kisses him fiercely.
God, he's never going to get tired of this.
He instantly reciprocates her advance, hand moving to the back of her head to cradle her skull and keep her close.
His stomach muscles twitch when her hand comes to his chest, rubbing up and down his abdominal definition, and thumb teasing at his happy trail.
It indescribable how just the simple touch is turning him on, he can feel himself harden at the movement and he can't help but push his tongue into her mouth.
They get startled when a janitor steps into the lockeroom, a tired look on his face when he spots them, "I'm locking up. Get lost, kids."
YN giggles as Harry flushed with embarrassment before she's leaving him to get changed and waiting outside for him to walk her home.
-
The next three weeks were an absolute whirlwind of hanging out in YN's dorm room cuddled together on the tiny bed, watching movies in his room in the frat, Harry stopping by the newspaper office constantly after practice to make sure she ate and then walkingher home, and then on the weekends they were going on dates and YN was coming to watch his games.
He knew that he was in love, he didn't care what anyone had to say about a certain amount of time it took or it was too soon.
Harry had found his person.
The puzzle piece that was missing his whole entire life was wrapped up in a gorgeous girl who bullied him, cuddled him, and gave him attitude when she didn't get her way.
He couldn't imagine anyone better.
There was one major issue, Harry had yet to tell her about his sexuality or the fact that he was a virgin.
He didn't blame her for making assumptions that he had a high body count with the way he flirted at parties - that was in fact the appearance that he was trying to give off even though it was further from the truth.
Harry wanted to tell her but when revealing that he was demisexual that was also telling her that he was head over heels for her.
And even though YN seemed nothing but understanding and accepting, it's different when you're in a relationship with the person.
She doesn't know whether it would matter if he was pansexual, if it would freak her out that he wasn't soley attracted to females.
As much fun as he was having, enjoying this new relationship, there was a lot of anxiety - he hadn't felt this much weight on his chest since high school with Yazmin and prom.
They hadn't gone further than kisses but it wasn't because of lack of arousal, he was so attractive to her that it didn't make sense.
However, up to this point, she hadn't pushed to do anything further than that and he wasn't ready to take the first step either.
It's a standoff until it's not.
YN and Harry are in his frat, they prefered it there for his queen size bed and he had a bigger television that they could binge watch shows on.
It was after a mid-week game, they had done exceptional, and Harry was truly convinced that YN was his good luck charm.
It was late, they both had class tomorrow but YN was sleeping over for the first time because Harry couldn't part with her.
They were in the middle of watching Great British Bake-Off and critiquing their bakes like either of them could do anything close to as good.
YN is tucked into his side, head of his chest but she squirms until she's looking up at him with a frown.
"Whassit?" Harry rumbles as he blinks heavily, his hand coming up to brush her hair out of her face - he couldn't get over how fucking pretty she was.
"Didn't kiss me enough today," YN huffs like she just realized the problem, her bottom lip pouted out.
"Didn't give you enough kisses, huh?" Harry repeats with a raised brow, his thumb coming to pull at her lower lip, "I haven't been very good to you, have I?"
"Absolutely awful boyfriend," YN agrees and everytime she refers to him as that, his stomach flutters.
"Or maybe I've just given it to you too much so now you're a demanding lil' thing," He hums but he's pulling her up so that their lips meet.
Harry can't help that he gets hard everytime they make out, maybe it’s a rookie thing or maybe most guys that's normal for - he wasn't sure.
But Harry and YN had never acknowledged it and as weird as it sounded - it felt good to get hard even if there wasn't relief at that time because it’s more pleasure and arousal than he's ever felt.
There was no way he wasn’t truly fucked - this girl held everything in her hands, she had so much fucking control over it and she didn't have one fucking clue.
YN's hand is rested on his stomach but at some point she moves it, she moves it right over his bulge in his nike running shorts, and palms at him.
Harry moans embarrassingly loud and sucks in a gasp at the sensation of someone else touching him like this for the first time.
YN pulls back startled like she hurt him and begins to apologize because of his visceral reaction but Harry joins their lips needily before murmuring, "Please baby, don't stop."
"Okay, whatever you want," She simpers quietly, her lips coming to his neck to kiss and nip at the skin as she feels out the shape of him over his thin shorts - thick and ready for her.
Harry is trying to keep his eyes open but it feels so new and euphoric that his lids are heavy as she thumbs over the sensitive tip.
"Take your shirt off," YN requests, not taking her hand off as he rustles hurriedly to get it over his head, "Slow down, we're not in a rush."
It was lightly teasing but it made insecurities tick a bit because he didn't want to embarass himself in his first sexual experience.
His stomach is sucking in at every other touch, his butterfly tattoo dancing as his ribcage outlines against his skin.
Her hand lazily moves upwards again but is taking the liberty of dipping into his shorts and briefs.
He twitches when her hand wraps around him, thumb tracing along the vein on the underside before circling at his already wet tip.
"M'gonna take my time with you," YN promises as she helps him slip the rest of his clothes off, her eyes locking with where he's hard for her.
He feels self-conscious, the first person to see this part of him in this intimate way - it was the most vulnerable he ever felt.
"You're so pretty," She murmurs happily as she begins to give him light strokes, "Makes sense why you have big dick energy. You're massive."
He has to clench his teeth to avoid coming at her words because it was all too much as he kept his hips on the mattress as she twists and tugs with the perfect amount of pressure.
"I-It feels so good, baby," Harry breathes out, he's on the verge of panting when her hand comes to roll his balls delicately.
"Yeah?" YN muses with a devious smile before she's ducking down to lick at the swollen head before suckling at it.
"Fuck, m'sorry," Harry groans as he feels his orgasm start, "S'good, you're so good. Fuck, you're amazin, sweetheart."
He can tell YN is a bit taken aback by his lack of stamina but she swallows as he pulses in her mouth.
When she sits back up, Harry is trying to catch his breath, "I'm so sorry. I just-"
"Stop apologizing," YN tells him firmly, leaning over to pepper kisses over his chest and tummy, "That was perfect. You look so handsome when you come."
Harry preens at the praise, he knows she’s probably just making sure he doesn't fell bad but it seemed genuine.
"Let me take care of you," Harry says after a few more moments, he knew his cheeks were flushed and his chest red with a blush of postorgasm haze and embarassment, what a mixture.
"You any good at it?" She jokes as she playfully licks his nipple before moving to take her own shirt off.
Harry freezes, he knows he probably looks like a deer in headlights before quickly wiping it off his face.
He doesn't respond but instead knocks her hands out of the way to pull the shirt over her head himself.
Her breasts were fucking perfect where they sat in a plain black bra with a little lace detailing on the edge of the cups.
Harry didn't know if he would survive this, he felt like a stupid teeanger as his hands were shaking with nerves.
This was more nerve-wracking then when he played in the playoffs for baseball or when a college scout came to watch his game.
He sits up and rearranges them until she's laying on her back and he's on top where he feels like he has a bit more control of the situation.
By some grace of god, YN's bra unlatches with a front clip and when he undoes it, it falls to either side and her tits bounce out.
"Holy shit, darling," Harry huffs out in awe, her nipples were already hard and so fucking pretty.
"What?" YN asks in a mere whisper, when he looks up at her - his heart sinks because he was so focused on himself that he didn't even think about how she might be feeling.
It was obvious that YN was a bit nervous too as he revealed her like he might not like how she looks - she’s squirmy and doesn't look him in the eye.
"How are you so fucking beautiful?" Harry shakes his head in disbelief, moving to cup them and they're soft in grip, warm, and good god, he's in love with them already, "Look at you, s'unfair."
YN lets out a pleased giggle and Harry can't wait any longer, he's fucking down to wrap his lips around one of the buds and suckle as his other hand rolls her other nipple.
"Oo-oh," She gasps out, pushing her chest into him, and he was sure that he wanted to hear her moans of pleasure for the rest of his life.
She was responsive to his touch, whimpering and asking for more through her body language as he switched between them and teased them until they were damp and puffy.
"Please, H. I'm so wet," YN begs as her hips move in frustration, her hand weaving into his hair and scratching at his scalp.
"You're wet for me?" Harry pulls back, their eyes meeting and he couldn't believe - he was turning her on even if he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.
"Stop teasing me," She demands with a pout.
He really wasn't.
Harry felt like he was in a movie in a way.
He dreamed about this for so long.
Being so in love with someone that he would want to have sex with them.
It happened and it was happening right now.
If it didn't feel so good, he wouldn't believe it.
Harry may or may not have utilized the internet to search about how to please a female.
He hadn't wanted to come into this and not be able to return the favor - it wasn't that he was uneducated about sex or didn't know the logistics of how to do it.
He didn't want it to be just okay.
He wants to show her how much he's truly gone for her by making her feel the same pleasure she's give to him.
Harry takes his time kissing down her soft belly, biting at the plush on her hips to make her squeak before he's shimmying her shorts and underwear off.
Harry has never felt so primal in his life when he's met with her mound and puffy folds, glistening with arousal, and he wanted to devour her.
The hesitance is gone as soon as he sees her for the first time.
He's spreading her legs and nuzzling straight in between her folds, lapping at her with excited, eager strokes.
Fuck, she even tasted good.
"Harry, fuck," YN mewls when he finds her clit, it wasn't hard with how swollen and hard it was for him - dragging it between his lips and suctioned it.
Her legs are restless like she wants to close them, her hands balling into the sheets as he relentlessly goes at her.
"Oh my god," She gasps as she bucks upwards, trying to ride his tongue - it was by far the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.
He couldn't believe he was actually doing a good job his first time, he knew she was actually close because he could feel her throbbing and getting wetter for him.
Her hands move to his hair, gripping it to keep him close to her center as she punches her hips up to find the friction she needs - it was beautiful watching her chase her pleasure without any shame.
He wanted to do this with her for the rest of his life and he knew it wasn't just the sex talking at this point.
She was it for him.
His chest swells in pride when she finally tips over the edge, a continuous stream of soft whining moans out of her mouth as her hips slow down and rest back against the bed - her limbs loosening.
Her face was damp with perspiration, long locks stuck to the side of her neck, and her chest was heaving and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.
"That was the best orgasm I've ever had," YN murmurs in awe, goading him back up until they’re kissing in short little pecks and he's brushing that sticky hair off her skin, "You're so good at that."
Harry's internally preening with the compliment, thrilled that he was able to get her off the first time ever doing something like this.
It was dangerous though, he knew already that he was going to crave her, she tasted amazing, it was addictive to be around her.
Everything from her smile to her laugh to the way her folds glistened with her arousal - it was all consuming.
-
Harry knows the longer they're seeing each other that he needs to tell her but the second he tells her about his sexuality, he's basically confessing his love to her.
He begins to feel like he's living this lie because YN occasionally makes a joke about how experienced he is or how many people he'd been with and he doesn't ever deny it.
To be fair, he never confirms it either but that even feels like lying.
One day while they're at lunch in a little bistro on campus, tucked away in the corner so people don't continuously harass Harry like always.
"I..I shouldn't be surprised at how good you were," YN murmurs shyly, they were talking about last night and when he used his mouth for the first time, "It's just...for me, I've only been with two other guys and it wasn't at all like that."
"They sound like idiots who didn't deserve to give it to you anyways," Harry has to swallow down the possessiveness of two other people having her like that.
She was his.
YN shrugs noncommittal as she sips on her peach tea, "They were okay but not as experienced as you. They hadn't been able to make me, you know...finish."
Cue his chest swelling with pride once again.
YN glances down at her plate, suddenly not making eye contact with Harry and he frowns at that, "What's wrong?"
She shakes her head, letting out a short laugh, "I just feel embarrassed, I guess. I know that I don't have as much experience as you. I've heard the stories of you taking all those girls upstairs at parties. It's not, it doesn't bother me but I...I just worry I'm not going to be good enough or compare."
Harry's heart sinks into his stomach and he knows now would be the absolutely perfect time to actually come clean that all those experiences were fake.
He chokes though, his throat tightens up and he can't find the words but he can reassure her, and he's not lying when he tells her, "Hey, I've never had a better experience than last night and m'not lying. You were amazing, fuckin' perfect. I can still taste how sweet you-"
"Ssh," YN giggles, the mood already lightened again as she chucks a chip at him because she doesn't know if anyone is eavesdropping, "I get it. Thank you."
"Anytime, babydoll," Harry drawls cheekily, exerting confidence when inside he's absolutely panicking.
-
Tonight it is the night.
Harry has nearly canceled three times because he doesn't know if he can do this.
He's so fucking in love with YN.
So fucking gone for her already that he doesn't know how he could lose her if this isn't something she's okay with.
Logically, he knows that if she doesn't accept him for who he is that she's not worth his time but fuck, he loved her.
YN was it for him, he didn't care how early it was or if you’re ot supposed to say that yet because they haven't been together long.
It was the truth though.
Harry wanted to try to make it as casual as possible when he brought it up so he invited her to sleepover after an away game.
He'd organized his room, cleaned his sheets, bought her favorite snacks, and laid out a shirt that she'd want to sleep in.
When she knocked on his bedroom door, one of his mates must have let her in, his hands were physically shaking and his smile was forced through nerves.
"Hi," YN huffs as she brushes past him to drop her overnight bag, "I brought a bag of chips but Niall literally stole them out of my hand and ran away like a little goblin -"
"I have something I need to tell you," Harry blurts out as he quickly shuts the door and leans up against it - he felt like he was about to have a full blown panic attack.
YN freezes from her rant, eyes meeting his with concern at his behavior and his body language, "Is everything okay, H?"
Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and tries to breathe out of his mouth, voice quaking, "I-I don't know."
Fuck, why did he feel like he was going to cry.
"Harry," YN murmurs from where she's sat on his bed now, "You're freaking me out a bit. What's going on?"
"I haven't told you something, important about me," Harry sniffles, he couldn't control the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, and he felt like that scared high schooler all over again, "And I'm scared you won't want to be with me if I tell you."
YN's brow furrows, she doesn't know how to respond because she doesn't know what he's been hiding from her.
"Tell me," She asks softly, her heart was pounding too - she didn't know if he was going to break up with her or tell her he already cheated but she was worried just as much as he was.
"M'not straight," Harry finally whispers, looking down at his feet and avoiding her gaze all together, "I'm pansexual and demisexual. I haven’t been with anyone other than you, ever. God, I know I sound like such a fucking loser."
"Come here," YN responds firmly, her eyes serious and he can't read her expression which makes everything worse as he cries, sniffling and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.
He listens though, cautiously walking until he's in front of her - eyes still looking anywhere but at her.
"Look at me," YN prompts once again, waiting until his watering green eyes finally meet hers, "I love you, no matter what your sexual preference is or how many people you've been with."
"You-You love me?" Harry stutters out with another sob, he felt like such a baby but his heart was fluttering and butterflies were turning his stomach.
"I thought I've made it obvious but yes, I do," YN smiles sweetly, pulling him down to kiss him despite his damp cheeks, "I love you as you are. I accept you as you are. You're perfect."
Harry blinks away his tears, letting her cup his jaw and bring him in for short but soft pecks over and over again.
"I know what pansexual is," YN says against his mouth before pulling back a little, "I don't know what demisexual is."
After Harry gets done explaining to her what his sexuality means to him, what he defines as being demi sexual - he's alarmed when he notices tears in YN's eyes now.
"I'm- Are you-" Harry begins to ask but she cuts him off.
"I'm your person?" YN repeats his words from earlier, she sounds like she’s a bit in disbelief that this is all happening.
"You’re my person," Harry agrees, kissing her forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, "I'm so in love with you. It's only ever been you. Only ever will be."
"I love you," YN gasps against his lips, bringing him in for another kiss but this time it's more heated with more purpose behind it as she pulls him down on top of her.
YN and Harry are equally frantic as they tug off each other's shirts, lips wandering over bare skin, and YN whines loudly when his lips wrap around her nipples and suck at them.
She's hurriedly pushing his shorts and briefs off his hips before allowing him to nearly rip her panties with the eagerness to have her bare.
As Harry's mouth teases at her breasts, switching between harden buds and nipping at them - her hands are twined tightly in his hair and holding him to her.
His cock is painfully hard, wet at the tip as he grinds it against her mound - the friction already good.
On one thrust, his length slips through her folds and his swollen head is pumping at her clit - making them both let out a surprised moan at the sensation.
"Need it," YN whines as he pumps his hips, the wet slide against her core was new to him but it felt like heaven, "Please, H."
And he knew what she was asking, he wanted to give it to her but he was scared that it wasn't going to be good.
"It's my first time," Harry mumbles embarrassedly, even though he had already admitted that to her, "I don't know how long I'll last,"
YN wriggles her hips, hissing in pleasure when his cock drags against her slit, teasing at pushing in before pulling away.
"It's okay, baby," She assures him, petting at his hair, "I just want you, please. I don't care how long you last, just want you. Want to make you mine."
Want to make you mine.
Holy fucking shit.
"Yeah," Harry rasps, voice deeper than ever, feeling a building up in confidence at how bad she wanted him right now.
He was so used to being the best at everything.
He was the best baseball player in the college leagues.
He was the best pitcher to ever attend Duke.
He was the first person to get an MLB draft pick before graduation.
He wasn't used to not being confident in hai abilities but he truly felt the love radiating from YN and knew that she just wanted him however she could get him.
Harry takes a deep breath, hand shaking as he grips himself, positioning at her entrance, and when he pushes in - he knows he moans loud enough that the whole house will be able to hear him.
"Shit, baby," Harry mewls as he drops his head down to take a deep breath before moving, "You feel so good. Fuckin' hell."
"H, move please," YN begs as she wraps her legs around his hips, "You're so big. Feels amazing, please honey."
Harry nods, one more deep breath before he's pulling out nearly to his tip before thrusting back in - the hot, velvet of her walls squeezing him and it was surely what euphoria felt like.
He can feel his orgasm already brimming over and it couldn't have been more than a minute or two - between the feeling around his cock, how pretty the noises she's making are, and the way her tits jiggle with every stroke - he can't last.
"M'sorry," Harry groans as his stomach starts to tense, "M'coming, you feel so good. You're gonna make me come."
With that, he's speeding up and pounding in harder than before - YN’s hand reaches down to rub expertly at her clit until she's clenching up around him and whimpering as her thighs shake.
Harry pulls out after a moment, ducking to grab his discarded tee shirt to clean them both up - he knows his cheeks are twinged pink with embarrassment.
"Hey," YN giggles, grabbing his attention and squishing his cheeks between her hands as she grips his chin, "Don't get all shy on me now."
"M'not being shy," Harry pouts as his words are muffled from his cheeks being smooshed, "I just look like a dickhead, I just came in a fuckin' minute."
YN rolls her eyes, fuck she's so pretty, her skin was literally glowing, "So what? Just means we get to practice more."
Harry chuckles, already feeling the tension ease form his chest, "For the rest of our lives. I only want this with you, ever. My body is yours."
"And I will always love it," YN murmurs more seriously, forehead pressed against his, "I love you for you. I accept you for you. You’re perfect and you're enough."
And after this, Harry never ever doubts that YN is the one for him - not in a few days or a decade when they're married and have four little babies running around that look just like him.
-
You are never alone.
There is always someone ready to listen, there is no struggle too little or too big.
The world needs you here.
Trans Crisis Line
LGBTQIA+ Crisis Talk, Chat, or Text
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hello hi here to force strange thoughts into your brain once again, this time about jrwi (wow who could’ve guessed)
been thinking about this for a little but it’s basically what i think some campaigns would be if not podcasts, i haven’t listened to some of the older ones so i’m sorry they’re not on here :(( if you have any ideas feel free to add them btw :DD
RIPTIDE!!!!! - really long animated series
not an anime though, no matter how much grizzly wants it, it would be an animation style where the characters could have very clearly different nose, face and body shapes, really pushing my riptide nose agenda here sorry, each episode would be like 20-40 minutes long and instead of coming out in seasons there would be massive gaps in between episodes, from 2-6 months long, to leave time for writers and animators to get stuff done (massive team of animators btw, i feel like it would be pretty successful)
PRIME DEFENDERS!! - comics
literally nothing else they could be, just really well made, well performing comics (i’ve already talked about this before you can stalk my talk tag if you really want to find it lmao), the comic company making them would be keeping well away from movies n shit btw
APOTHEOSIS!!! - i wasn’t really sure about this one to be honest
i had to ask my friend and she said anime which i don’t agree with but i can see it, i think maybe a short book series where each book is 150 - 300 pages and is about a different god they have to kill/a different episode, i think that works but if anyone has any better ideas please tell me :D!!
BLOOD IN THE BAYOU!!! - i hate to say it, i really do…
bitb would be a really long really good 80s horror book with strong homoerotic undertones, a satisfied fanbase and lots of active members in the community making fan comics, films, writing, theories and art ect… until well after the book came out……….. and then it would be made into the most egregious and awful live action movie you have ever seen, the most awful casting (like chris pratt as officer dudes….. throws up) and even worse sfx, oh yeah and the characters would be ruined and the story would become so butchered it wouldn’t make sense, they would do some shit like cut out becky so kian just kisses some random lady (removing both a really good and well written character and a layer of kian’s character that i think is super important) and make rolan really be an evil bug spy the whole time so rand has to kill him to save the town also add in a whole new sub plot that never existed like the rand family is secretly a long line of bug alien hunters or something fucking stupid like that and the entire fanbase would murder whoever thought re-writing the story was a good idea (ahaha can you tell ive been through something like this before ahahaha, character morals and motives being removed and whatnot ahahahhahahaha.)
anyways………
THE SUCKENING!!! - live action series
it would be well made though, unlike the bitb movie it would be its own original thing, have great makeup and effects also be well casted and well shot, well written, ect ect, it would bloody and gory and not suitable for people who can’t handle showing bones and organs all over everywhere, lots of shitty rip off merch would be made though and the fandom would be 99% gay little freaks (normal suckening enjoyers) and 1% homophobic straight white men who get mad whenever they see soda and emizel having gay sex on screen or whatever fag shit that biting thing was
again feel free to add your thoughts and ideas and shit in the reblogs it would be nice to read them :DD!!
#red rambles relentlessly#jrwi show#jrwi pd#the suckening#jrwi riptide#jrwi apotheosis#jrwi bitb#jrwi spoilers#jrwi the suckening#jrwi prime defenders#bitb spoilers#suckening spoilers#i think i wrote some shit that could be considered spoilers in those two sections#definitely the bitb one#which i definitely didn’t base around a certain netflix adaptation of one of my old favourite books cough cough#I HATE THAT FILM SO MUCH WHY DID YOU DO THAT TO SOPHIES CHARACTER SHE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A BITCH STOP TRYING TO MAKE HER NICE#anyways like maybe one person who sees this post will know what that’s referencing#and i will admit the books weren’t perfect but at least the characterisation made sense
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Everyone knows that maIes on average are dangerous predators and women are their prey so anybody telling you to trust them or that "it's not all men" wants you harmed by them. They want you dead, they want you raped, they want you sacrified to the beast to save their skin or their loved ones skin. Only to blame you for it after.
Look at all the precautions the average woman takes in every aspect of their lives to navigate maIe violence. I've seen women go as far as ordering food under a maIe name because the delivery drivers would prey on them otherwise. Even when a woman IS interested in a maIe she'd still take precautions dating him because -she knows- moid on average are dangerous. This is also why women settle in crappy relationships because they KNOW their chances of encountering worse is higher than their chances of encountering better so they stay because it's personally & socially better than being alone for them. "He's emotionally distant but at least he isnt cheating on me", "he's cheating on me but at least he's not raping me", "he keeps bothering me for sex every night but at least he hasn't killed me". Women know. This is why I no longer get into back and forth about moids with women either I aint wasting my fucking time arguing shit we both know is true. I wont be your goddamn sacrificial lamb.
Moids themselves know how dangerous moids are as they "shield" their female relatives/partners from other moids. Many moids are terrified of prisons or gay moids because they fear facing what they make women face.
People wouldn't typically advise women & girls that are close to them to trust maIes, heck teenage girls are often scared off moidlets with parents saying that "boys bring trouble"/"theres only one thing boys want" typa shit. Many parents worry about their daughters because they know the evil that moids are deep down and can only hope it doesn't affect their daughters badly.
So I dont fucking care what's said online, most of these women pandering to moids or moids pulling the "it's not all men!1! We get hurt tuh!1!" bullshit would not individually trust moids. Ladies dont ever feel bad for protecting yourself. Keep generalising & judging ALL xys. You aren't crazy for seeing their evil & having your guard up. Dont explain yourselves to moids, the world already explains. Womens lives > moid feelings. It's better to be safe than sorry.
#i often encounter reels of women speaking about their safety around moids#its presented in an apolitical way for the most part yet women are always agreeing how dangerous moids are and the precautions they take#to mitigate moid violence#female separatism#female separatist#radical feminism#radical feminist#feminism#blackpill feminism#feminist#wineauntmovement#blackpill feminist#moids are terrorists#men are evil#stop birthing males#moids are predators#all moids are evil#moids are dangerous#they know they just dont care#the topic of female sacrifice is one that warrants its own blog but let me tell you right fucking now we're in a cult of moid supremacy#and womens lives plus entire beings are the sacrifices to this cult#dont let others lead you to the MANslaughterhouse as a sacrificial lamb
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Thoughts on "nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny" from one genderfluid perspective. TL;DR is that while the sentiment is true, I don't like how it became THE defining slogan of nonbinary activism.
Nonbinary people don't "owe" anyone androgyny. Indeed, no one "owes" any particular expression for their gender to be recognized and respected. I think it's an important message. So why am I not satisfied?
To start, the implication I read is that labels and pronouns are easier than self presentation. For me, this is the exact opposite. When my own self conceptualization is ephemeral, relational, conditional, it is actually much easier to literally and figuratively wear my gender on my sleeve than it is to put it into words. When I wear a blouse, dangly earrings, paint my nails, pitch up my voice, people will for better or for worse treat me differently. I can work with these associations, but to say THIS is my label, THESE are my pronouns, THIS is my name, THIS is how I see myself is just exhausting. I don't even know or care half the time.
A similar slogan is "clothing does not equal gender." Very well, but what if I don't view my gender as a prediscursive essence? What if I do resonate with statements like "born naked and the rest is drag?" What if clothing, makeup, gestures, and perceptions do factor into my identity? This is how some nonbinary identities and experiences are rendered inconvenient or, forgive the word choice here, politically incorrect. Many such identities are too inconvenient to state in public discourse. I worry that the push for visibility is too often a push for legibility and taxonomic convenience; to "see like a state," as it were.
Back to "nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny:" I think the more pressing conversation here is what exactly we mean by androgyny. Is it simply a matter of mixed gendered signifiers, or is it based on a more literal standard of "passing?" Who is capable of androgyny? Under what circumstances is androgyny desirable? It is said that only young, skinny white people are capable of androgyny. Is this true? If androgyny is the domain of youth, why do cis seniors undergo hormone treatments to prevent being androgynized? If androgyny is the domain of thinness, why do fat women held to higher standards of femininity and fat men to higher standards of masculinity to be fully legible as their genders? If androgyny is the domain of whiteness, why does so much racial dehumanization depend on de-gendering? Why are so many cultural norms read as gender nonconforming by the dominant culture, despite making no such pretenses themselves? So, "androgyny" here is more precisely "androgyny on one's own terms." The young, thin, white body can inhabit a sort of glam-rock, science fiction, mythic androgyny, but androgyny is otherwise dehumanizing and incomprehensible.
I see a need then, not merely to deem androgyny unnecessary, but to expand the definition and defend non-conventional expressions thereof. Nonbinary people are often both envious and terrified of androgyny. We ask: When does "quirky" become "clocky?" When does glamorous and sexy become somehow both neutered and perverted? To put it another way, when does "they" become "it?" Indeed, many reclamations of "it" explore this very question. Even as a thin, white, and young person, I worry that my increasingly fluid gender expression toes this line. Among gay men, camp and femininity are deployed specifically to disarm sexual possibility. Not into him? Put him in the "sis zone." When slight adjustments to language and gesture are sexually disqualifying, what happens with physical and chemical interventions to the sexed body?
There is obviously a stereotype that nonbinary people do not physically transition. I don't think "nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny" or any similar sloganeering is to blame; I think this is moreso the result of trans people having to overstate the binary-ness of their gender to receive gender affirming care. The nuances of trans identity gets flattened for the convenience of cis observers and medical gatekeepers. I always knew I was a girl deep down, I played with dolls and looked up to Disney princesses, I have never enjoyed sex and only dissociated my way through it, et cetera. No one should be required to transition, but for this reason I see it as important to recognize that nonbinary people can and do transition (and that even binary trans identities are more complicated than these narratives allow).
Transition is something I have long considered, but fluidity throws a wrench into the plot. I don't update the world every time I feel this way, but there are times and instances in which I sincerely want to be perceived as a woman. Then, there are instances in which "gay man" is more than a default but something personal and powerful to me, molded in my image by history, culture, and my experience within and around the category. It is for this reason that "what if I regret it" anxiety is probably justified. If I conditionally want to be seen as a woman, there will be no "before and after" motivational images. The "androgynous" fledgling stages are all I have. Genderfluidity is just one reason people inhabit the awkward in-between stages. More often, it is because people lack the financial, logistical, or legal capacity to transition.
No one should be pressured to appear androgynous, but this pressure is made worse by the dehumanization, amplified by class and racial dimensions, associated with gender ambiguity. It is rarely glamorous beyond editorial photoshoots and closed-off internet circles. The fear of being rendered incomprehensible, undesirable, unresolved or incomplete holds people back from gender experimentation and self determination. So, nonbinary people don't owe any particular expression, but I have a question: Who's afraid of androgyny?
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once again a mix of oldies, goodies, and oldies but goodies, because apparently my brain decided to start treating fic the way i do books: collect them and forget to read them.
masterlist.
all we are is skin and bones by IndestructibleHeart
Alex didn't plan to push Henry Fox into oncoming traffic.
Amigos y Migas by floatingaway4
“Christ, how is this so good? It’s like magic and science and...and I don’t even know what else.” Henry moans as he swallows another bite. “How the fuck does he do this? And how does he do it in a truck the size of our walk-in freezer?”
Pez leans back against the wall. “Are you eating that or getting turned on by it, Henners?”
Henry rolls his eyes, even as he tries to glare at his head sommelier. “Can��t I do both?” The sauce drips down his wrist and he shamelessly licks it off.
silk and steel by teacupivy
Thanks to a welcome day off, Henry and Alex spend a lazy morning in bed. Soft, mid-morning cuddles escalate into semi-soft, mid-morning sex.
Never Truly Leave by clottedcreamfudge
"We found something in Arthur's things," Catherine says, without any preamble. "I've never really... gone through his personal effects properly, until now. It's been rather too difficult for me to face." Alex nods.
...
"I found something for Henry, but it's... Well, it's actually for you."
Alex blinks at her.
Date night (it's a tie) by TheAmberFox
“So here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. I want you to strip out of these clothes and get on the bed, so I can tie you to our headboard with both our stupidly boring ties and make you come until you can’t any more. Would you be amiable?”
religion's in your lips (even if it's a false god) by coffeecatsme
“You seriously never heard of Henry?”
Alex feels defensive. “Should I have?” he asks, and the guy stares at him for another second before a laugh escapes his lips.
“Well, rumor has it he’s turned multiple people here gay.”
Or, 5 times Henry brings a guy home and 1 time he doesn't have to.
Or, Henry is a rumored sex god, Alex is his roommate, and he's jealous of everyone Henry brings through the front door.
Race You to Forever by allmylovesatonce
Alex comes up with the perfect proposal idea: He and Henry should compete for it. Henry is less than enthused, but agrees anyway. Neither of them could predict the strange things that happen when they're competing for who gets to propose to the other.
a rich and complex tapestry by everwitch
When Alex first hooks up with Henry, he's expecting a fun one-night-stand and maybe the occasional booty call. He does not expect to get so completely pulled into Henry’s orbit that it forces him to reevaluate everything he thought he knew about his sexuality. And he's not sure if it makes it better, or way worse, that Henry is actually a professional at all this stuff — what are the odds that Alex would hook up with the one guy on campus who hosts his own radio show about sex?
'Sleeping With Henry' is about to gain one devoted listener.
I fall to pieces when I'm with you by viciouslyqueer
If once is an accident, and twice is a coincidence, when it happens a third time Henry really starts to think about it.
—
Three times Alex doesn't want Henry to touch him and one time he understands why.
I must tell you what you will not ask by lizzie_bennetdarcy
Henry's lower lip wobbles, and a fresh tear rolls down his cheek. Alex watches it track down to his chin, and wonders if Henry would mind him wiping it away. “I really was looking forward to seeing them.”
Another tear escapes, and this time Alex can't help but lean forward and brush it away with his thumb. Henry's breath catches, and he looks at Alex, wearing an expression he can't quite parse. “Come home with me,” Alex blurts out.
Henry's plans for Christmas fall through, so Alex invites him home for the holidays. They're best friends, strictly platonic roommates, so why does everyone think they're dating?
love me long, be my sunlight by weather_stained
“What is it, then?” Henry asks.
Alex glances up at him, and there’s laughter in his big brown eyes. “It’s porn,” he says gleefully. “In your handwriting.”
While unpacking their office together, Alex comes across some very explicit Star Wars fanfiction written by none other than HRH Prince Henry himself.
we might just get away with it by smc_27
Henry is the most gorgeous man Alex has ever seen. And Alex has seen a lot of gorgeous men. He’s a fucking model.
“This is Henry Fox-Mountchristen,” Prada’s current PR lead says, and Alex smiles and pushes his hand out. “He’s a journalist covering the merger.”
Alex doesn’t know what merger or what it would have to do with Paris Fashion Week. But he does know that Henry holding a glass of champagne as he shakes Alex’s hand is maybe the sexiest thing ever, and there is just no explanation for that.
“Hi. I’m Alex.”
Henry says, “I know,” and then does this weird, forced smile at Bianca and walks away.
Alex doesn’t know how to like, not be completely obsessed with things he wants.
OR, Alex is a model. Henry is a journalist, and a bit of an asshole. Alex wants him anyway, even when it doesn’t feel good.
Someone Special by bleedingballroomfloor
"That was Shaan," Henry explains as Alex snuggles closer to him, pressing his nose to his neck. "The blizzard hit early, apparently. Too risky to fly."
"So Christmas here?" Alex says in that sleepy drawl of his that Henry will never get tired of. "Fuckin' sweet."
Because I'm A Scoundrel by inexplicablymine
Alex Claremont-Diaz has exactly thirty minutes to make himself look as slutty as possible for this Halloween Gala. At this very moment he looks a little bit like a sexed up pirate, but with the addition of his small black vest - rest in peace to the Patagonia packers and finance brethren- and a low slung belt with a “blaster,” a very sex-on-legs Han Solo is looking back at him.
Henry Fox, who is both a double scull rower with enough Olympic medals it would make anyone other than Alex sweat, and the definitive arch nemesis of Alex - is wearing a white sylvette Princess Leia costume, hugging his curves in all the right ways, the clingy fabric draping to the floor.
When you and your arch nemesis show up to the most important gala of the year in a couples costume you either play it up or shut it down. Alex has a decision to make, but the way that dress is hugging Henry’s ass isn’t making that decision any easier.
the super sick(s) by cricketnationrise
Super Six snowed in at the brownstone.
two is better than one by rizcriz
Henry swallows. “You were going to propose to me tonight?”
Alex nods. “I still am,” He says, throwing his hands out at his sides. “If I can find the damn ring.”
“Right. But,” Henry reaches into his pocket and pulls the ring out of his pocket that he’d quite literally just picked up from the jeweler. “I was going to propose to you tonight.” He holds the ring box up between them.
--
Or, Alex and Henry both want to propose.
every tale condemns me for a villain by tintagel
Alex Diaz is one of the worst villains to have come out of reality TV in a while. Just Henry's luck that he's doing a signing for his new autobiography at the bookshop. But it's tough to hate someone when you only see what's been edited together.
Oxidation by Thee_Maxwell
“Well, Alex–” and yep. Yeah. Yeah. His name sounds as nice in Henry’s mouth as he hoped it would. His vowels are open, wide, but he doesn’t hesitate when saying it. It comes out like he knows Alex, like he’s known Alex. He goes a little warmer at the thought, and if he were doing anything other than flirting with a very pretty boy, Alex would blame it solely on the alcohol. “–I’ve got to ask. Is there more to the getup?”
That catches him off-guard, and he’s not entirely sure what Henry means, so he tilts his head like a dog watching something that interests him. Henry huffs out a laugh, but clarifies,
“Perhaps I’m mistaken. The uh, the hanky. Cowboy, yeah?”
blushing ears and bleeding hearts by kill8a
The man is gorgeous. Like, objectively. Long legs and wide shoulders and wavy blonde hair, cheekbones sculpted from marble, black pressed slacks and a robin egg blue button down, expensive loafers on his feet and a nametag pinned on his shirt… Alex doesn’t understand how someone can walk out of the house and just look like that.
or, alex meets henry while studying in the library and is immediately interested
when you know, you know by vibrantsaturn
With shaky hands, Henry pulls out the ring from the box, looking at Alex with tearful eyes that he adores so much. Asks, "Alex, darling, will you marry me?"
Alex lets out a watery laugh, swiping an arm across his face to get rid of the rapidly falling tears. He kneels down to cup Henry's face and brushes his thumbs across his cheekbones softly.
"Baby. Don't you remember?" Alex whispers, leaning their foreheads together. "We're already married."
or,
Alex "marries" his best friend when he's six-years-old. It just takes some time for them to fall in love, but they get there.
if you take a life, do you know what you'll give? by anincompletelist
It would have been one thing had Alexander’s job description been simply to stay in his hotel room and operate the funds covertly, an exceedingly safe distance away from Henry and any of Le Chiffre’s men.
As it is, they’d instructed Alex to play the part of Henry’s date for the night, subsequently granting him the access he’d need to the private cardroom within the casino in order to report back to headquarters the funds needed in the precise moment Henry would need them. It's too dangerous, and he knows it.
Henry's had a lot of blood on his hands in this life, but he refuses to have Alex's as well.
Got a will to win and a Cheshire grin by @kiwiana-writes
Please find attached the list of collective bargaining agreement breaches reported by the Sports and Recreation Floor in December. As the designated union representative, it is my responsibility to ensure that the rights and interests of our members are protected and upheld, even (or maybe especially) during our busiest time of year.
In accordance with the grievance procedure outlined in our collective bargaining agreement, we request that Santa’s Workshop takes immediate corrective action to remedy these breaches. Please set up a meeting at your earliest convenience to discuss these issues further and explore appropriate resolutions.
Thank you for your immediate attention to this matter.
You're the Perfect Gift for Me by chamel
“Twenty-one-year-old Scotch,” the man says with a low whistle, looking more impressed than anything else. “Special occasion or just expensive taste?”
Alex can’t stop his grimace. “Came up here to propose,” he says, even though this random stranger doesn’t need to hear his woes. “Found out my girlfriend’s getting back together with her high school sweetheart.”
“Ouch,” the man replies, the word sounding slightly absurd in his rounded, posh accent. He looks at the bartender. “Leave the bottle.”
(Dumped two days before Christmas by his girlfriend, Alex meets a British writer who's spending Christmas on his own in generic Tiny Town, USA, and together they discover something new to celebrate.)
the clementine thing by saintlynomenclature
And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company.
Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him.
-
Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor
You're So Attractive; How Did That Happen by @sparklepocalypse
Henry is a big man. He’s tall — taller than either of his siblings and most of his cousins. His shoulders are broad. Years on horseback have helped him develop decent muscle mass. So when Alex storms into his life like a beautiful, infuriating tornado, Henry fully expects to continue feeling big.
But Alex has ways of making Henry feel small, cherished, even precious.
(Or, three things about Alex that make Henry feel wonderfully small, and one thing that doesn't.)
as always, if you want me to tag you for whatever reason just let me know. see you next week!
@starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels
#RWRB rec list#rwrb#rwrb fic#red white and royal blue#RWRB fanfiction#firstprince#alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alexhenry
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Slider has always known, Slider has eyes and a functioning enough brain to realize that Ice is completely obsessed with Maverick, Slider knows things, he’s the guy that’s always there
The first time they properly met Maverick Slider could already tell that he would be a pain in his ass, Ice started that flirty teasing, Slider knew that Ice meant for it to sound mean, he wanted to rile him up and play his game, but something about it was just off, the tension was way too thick for it to go unnoticed, he always wandered if Goose could feel it too. Still, he didn’t say anything, Ice could figure it out later
The bite was just unnecessary, Slider could tell that Mav was just as invested in this as his pilot was, they were dancing around each other like a weird fucking mating ritual, then Ice decides to do a bite, he obviously meant for it to be threatening, he knows that, but to Slider it just looked really gay, but he doesn’t bring it up, he shouldn’t bring it up, right? Ice trusts him. He still tries to push it, he asks him if he’s ok, that he needs to be careful and concentrate on their goal, Ice looks at him like he’s trying to figure something out, he turns and says “don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing”
He does not in fact not what he’s doing, he catches feelings, it’s not just attraction, it’s not about sex, no, Ice cares about Maverick, Slider sees it in the way that he looks at him, he sees how much Ice wants to comfort Mav, how he looks at him when they get in their planes, how he tries to make sure he’s ok, that he’s safe, he cares, not just as a pilot
They make it back and Ice and Mav get worse, he truly didn’t think it was possible, “you can be my wingman any time” “bullshit you can be mine” that shit might as well be a love confession, and Slider realizes that it’s not just Ice that caught feeling, they’re both in love. But they don’t talk about it, Slider doesn’t bring it up, Ice will tell him, he knows that when he’s ready he’ll tell him
Slider is getting tired of waiting, it’s been about five years since they graduated top gun and Slider is getting really tired of this bullshit, sometimes Ice can’t hang out because he needs to “do something” Slider thinks that’s a weird nickname for Mav, sometimes when they all get together Ice will sit next to Mav, close enough so that their shoulders touch and they’ll spend the night talking to each other, laughing at secret jokes and looking at each other like they’re the most precious thing they’ve ever seen, Slider decides that he’s limiting the time Ice has to finally tell him, he really can’t take more of this “we think we’re great at keeping secrets” little act
A year later Slider has had a enough, Ice is buying groceries and Slider goes with him and when he sees Ice pick up some disgustingly sweet cookies he knows something’s up, Ice doesn’t like those cookies, so he asks, and Ice casually says “oh, Mav loves them” and he snaps, this cannot keep going, so he grabs him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye and tells him “I swear to god… I swear to fucking god Kazansky that if you don’t tell me that you’re fucking Maverick then I’m going to walk away and you’ll never hear from me again, I’ve had 6 years of you two being all stupid and in love and I have reached my limit, why won’t you fucking tell me, just tell me, please” Ice freezes, he opens and closes his mouth several times before he takes a deep breath, nods and shrugs “I’m fucking Maverick” Slider let’s out a sigh and pulls Ice into a hug “thank god for that” and it’s finally over
It’s not over, Slider soon finds out that knowing about Ice and Mav without them knowing that he knows is way better than knowing about them and them knowing he knows, because now he actually has to play “best friend of your boyfriend”, he’s the guy Mav asks what to get Ice for his birthday, he’s the guy that Ice whines to about Mav, he’s the guy that has lied countless times for their asses, he’s the guy that needs to be there when Ice wants to propose, he’s the guy that has to endure hours of ring shopping with an insufferably nervous Ice, he’s the guy that has to execute their proposal plan to perfection, yes, even when Ice decides to change it last minute, he’s the guy that needs to make sure that their little backyard wedding is absolutely perfect, he’s the guy that has to write the greatest best man speech anyone has ever heard, he’s the guy that has to give all his parenting advices to Ice when Bradley comes into their lives, he’s the guy that has to tell Bradley all the embarrassing stories about them, he’s the guy that has to help Bradley sneak out of their house to go to a party, he’s the guy that has to be there for Ice when Bradley leaves, he’s the guy that has to help Mav deal with Ice’s cancer, he’s the guy that hugs Ice until neither of them can breath when he’s officially cancer free, he’s the guy that has to give an even better best man speech when they get married again, legally this time, he’s the guy that cries his eyes out when Ice gets his second diagnosis, he’s the guy that holds his hand when he’s dying, he’s the guy that has to be there at the funeral to make sure everything’s in order, just like Ice would’ve wanted it, he’s the guy that has to shake hands with people he doesn’t know because “yes he was a great guy”, he’s the guy that has to make sure Mav is alright after Ice is gone
He’s the guy, he’s always known and he’s always been there
#can you tell I love Slider#because I love slider#and I love his friendship with Ice#also I don’t mean for this to get so long I just had a thought and had to get it out#icemav#tom kazansky#slider#ron slider kerner#Pete Mitchell#top gun#iceman and slider#sad shit#I ALSO DIDNT MEAN FOR IT TO GET SAD#just my thoughts#this isn’t a fic I can’t write fics this is just a long post#falling in love from a friends perspective is my favorite thing in the world
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how much the mercs would want to hide you dating from the others and how they would act if the other mercs found out/teased them? or how would the others find out? (this is also my first time doing any kind of request sorry if it makes no sense, love your writing!!)
TF2 Mercs x M!Reader|| Keeping "Us" a Secret! +18
As per usual, i'm writing in time-canon
Scout
Absolutely tried his best to keep it a secret and will try his damn hardest to make sure nothing happens to either of y'all if you guys are found out to be a little more than homies.
Everyone's probably figured it out, y'all are shit at subtle flirting.
Vicerally rejects any PDA or affection and gets mad when you try to initiate it where any of the merc will potentially see and will respond with something like "fuck outta here with that!"
Overall he's super paranoid about people finding out he also likes guys and specifically his "best friend". If the team sit him down and are like "son, we are actual war criminals. being gay is NOT the biggest issue here." then he gets a little more lax about PDA, but not by much. It still makes him uncomfortable.
Soldier
He's a bit too dense to keep a secret for too long, probably forgetting that he was the one that wanted to keep yours and his relationship on the down low.
Is one of those confrontationsl types and wouldn't hesitate to beat someone up over teasing him or harassing both of you. Not that the team would go past playful ribbing, but any attack, no matter how small, is treated like a nuclear bomb threat.
Not too bothered or too enthusiastic about PDA, doesn't like overly cutesy acts of romance when people are looking but you two have absolutely been caught fooling around in secluded places around the base. The one who found you told everyone and you never heard the end of it.
You mostly are the one who get the teasings, such as "So, you really do like brains over brawn." or "the sex must be great if you put up with that idiot."
Pyro
Noody really could tell that you two were dating, let alone interested in each other. With how eccentric both you and Pyro were, everyone just assumed that both of you were both extremely touchy-feely, very hippie and free spirit, which Soldier degrades you two for.
Pyro likes PDA like handholding, cuddling, and little bumps while walking. Nothing like kissing or getting sexual in public though, they aren't comfortable with you doing that around people they don't trust in the same way they trust you.
They probably tell Engie first and go into detail about how you make them feel. You treat them like an equal and like an adult, as if they're not just their mental illnesses. Engie supports both of you fully and acts like the supportive dad neighter of you had growing up.
Demoman
Not too concerned as well, but that's mainly because he's drunk when dealing with his teammates. He likes kissing you or smacking your ass and then shrugging and saying it's a Scottish tradition.
Loves grossing out the team with PDA. Nasty flirting, dirty whispers, bedroom eyes, and whenever people try to confront his and your behavior, he laughs and just walks outta the room like "awww, cleaRLY you men haven't drunkenly shagged a man! Be feelin' better than a virgin!" With no elaboration on if you two are actually fucking or if it's a bit.
When the mercs ask you, you give deadpan humor of "no, it's a joke. My mum's gotta good bit of Scot in her."
When it finally clicked for them was when Spy walked in on you two getting handsy on the couch while you were on top of him and hiked up his kilt. You looked at Spy and just said "You've done worse." Spy hesitated, but nodded and walked away.
Engie
HIDES IT SO SO MUCH. THIS MAN HAS SO MUCH SOUTHERN/CATHOLIC GUILT. HE'S EVEN HESITANT IN PRIVATE. He really doesn't like you getting too close to him when the others are around, but will allow drunken leaning against him.
It took both of you literal months to kiss, let alone have sex. He is the most tender and gentle lover known to man, and it's all for you. He protects you a lot more in battle with the excise of "he's defending the intel, I might as well buff him up with a few sentries."
You two hiding your relationship gives him high blood pressure and Medic just knows immediately that Engie is hiding his sexuality- to Medic at least, he's not subtle. With a quick peck to Heavy as a thank you for handing him the scalpel Medic is like "So Engie, do you have anything you're not being honest about?" and he just breaks.
"I'm a homosexual!" "Ja! So am I!"
Heavy
Is really wishy-washy about being open, since nobody would ever mess with him about being gay, but they might mess with you and your job. You're not a merc, just a low-level cleanup crew member! If the Administrator found out... would she kill you? Move you away? Would she even care?
Stealing away little kisses is his favorite thing. When you sneak into his room and you two just snuggle and kiss. He's super hesitant about sex in the beginning, but absolutely loves how you assure him and praise him.
Intinidates your coworkers who make fun of you since you have a good relationship with the mercs and all your coworkers think they're psychos.
Sniper is the one who catches you two- in battle no less! RED is thoroughly beating BLU's ass so Heavy sneaks away to the fence to see you and give you a few... many... uh, a lot of kisses. You hear the bullet break the window near you two before you see it, and Heavy takes it as his cue to leave.
Sniper
Since he doesn't really interact much with the group, he doesn't see a reason to tell the other mercs. All you do is go to his van after battle for "a cigarette and target practice". Sure buddy, you just accidentally tripped and ended up on your knees below a freshly showered Sniper. You two spend most nights together, since you two are the two unsociable mercs.
You two do everything together, since you're the more sociable of the both of you, people refer to Sniper as "your shadow", it's a bit of a teasing nickname that you're fine with, and Sniper's alright with it, since they acknowledge him nearby you at all times.
Doesn't overprotect you in battle, did it once and you marched right up to his nest and told him off. Yeah, he cares about you and you love him for it, but you'll respawn! It's fine!
The enemy Spy saw you tell him off and the subsequent kiss goodbye. He was gonna kill the Sniper, but something just left him feeling weird, so he waited until you were gone to kill him.
Spy
He's pretty open about swinging both ways, his tales of espionage have no limits. You're a high-positioned supervisor, so he initially justified yours and his relationship as job assurance... then easy closeness to relieve the lonliness... then- uh, fuck. He's caught feelings when in an actual relationship he can't run from.
Only likes PDA when he's initiating, very cat-like about it. He is to fluster you with a simple look. He is to give you what you can't reach and accidentally invade your personal space, where your breaths mingle and leave you red faced. Only he is to drive you crazy in public... However, if you wear that crop top again he WILL threaten to fuck you.
Has absolutely the biggest exhibition/danger Kink. Invisibly feeling you up as you're in a meeting. Disguising himself as a stranger and you giving favors. He has offered to disguise himself as an enemy teammate but got put off when you got too into the roleplay and cried out for that merc.
You two are never found out, as Spy is just a charismatic asshole and you are futilly enamored according to the team. Although, Scout has his suspicions after he overheard you and him laughing in Spy's smoking room.
Medic
Probably the most open about the relationship from the beginning, but unlike how Pyro is, he is very obvious that yours and his relationship is romantic and very much sexual in nature. Innuendos. Hands skirting your backside. Calling out to you jovially. It's all painfully obvious... it doesn't help that he is the LOUDEST mf in bed. They heard you before you told them.
He loves kissing you and ruining you when he gets jealous. Playing the protecting and possessive lover is one of his favorite things to do. Yeah, all Scout did was ask where you got your shoes, but to Medic, that's basically asking to sleep with you.
"Darling, can I rearrange your guts?" BEST PICKUP LINE HE HAS. FR. ON GOD. Everyone assumes that you two have fucked on the operating table, they pray that it's cleaned after.
Soldier is the one to walk in on you two. You assume he's going to shout and holler about how you two are a disgrace to the army, but he's strangely silent and just walks out. About 30 minutes later he bursts in again and lectures you about fraternizing.
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what would make gamzee better ? an in depth analysis :
choice to be a good guy ? NO ❌ hes sucks on purpose
normal life on alternia ? NO ❌ hed just start killing people for fun again
gamtav gay yaoi sex ? NO ❌ would make tavros worse ( bad )
listening to one ( 1 ) weird al song ? YES ✅ would give him a passion for polka instead of hatred + murder
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You know what obnoxious thing I keep seeing in fandom I wish would stop? This absolute need some people seem to have for their ship to be Representation in some way. Shipping is just imagining scenarios between two characters! You don’t need it to be a Special reason or whatever? I have a ship that is popular and people make weird vague comments about how the fandom is racist because both of them are white and there are other ship options that have poc so the white ship being big is a reflection on how racist the fandom is but the thing is…
Look I’m going to be real with y’all the fandom is for the game Detroit: Become Human and let’s just say the two major black characters are basically stereotypes written by a neocon lib boomer in a story that itself is imho…let’s call it tone deaf and corny af rather than overtly racist but yeah. Black folks on twitter regularly mock this game for good reason. It is very much a boomer white man’s idea of the civil rights movement but with robots. The robots sing actual slave hymns. The main character is essentially a light-skinned Martin Luther King Jr (dubbed Markus Luthur King by blktwt lol) and the religious allegories of him as a savior figure are very on the nose. It is bad lol. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to explore the black characters but the fandom is full of young white people singing the praises of this writing while patting themselves on the back about it which is genuinely uncomfortable to be around. Just my 2 cents but the virtue signaling and insane policing around those two characters makes it unbearable to interact with their content it is deeply sanitized and you WILL get death threats if you attempt any nuance or are critical of the (kinda racist imo) way they were written in canon.
The worst part of this is that Markus has a popular ship with a character a lot of people read or interpret as a more soft or femme gay man and you know what zoomers hate? Femme gay men. So obviously this is made to be ‘problematic’ in some way because these people can’t just admit to being femmphobic/homophobic themselves.
Sometimes it’s easier to stick with the boring white characters in the background because they aren’t being closely guarded by stupid reactionary people who are used to flashing their favorite fictional poc characters as tokens of their own goodness and virtue.
--
The pinnacle of this game is that moment when the black lady lectures her son about why they need to run the robot underground railroad to Canada.
I watched some playthroughs. Unsurprisingly, I liked the buddy cops with the good development, not the cringey activism plot with too many foils and not enough development of any single relationship and not the the Women Care About Babies plot.
But if I were going to do something fannish with Markus, I'd write him having a fucked up relationship with his mentor's son post game—the surrogate son who thought the guy was great and the estranged son who knew he wasn't but who has also done a bunch of shitty stuff himself.
It's especially hilarious when tryhards think the problem is not enough people shipping Markus with North as if the slashers are going to be into 1. het and 2. yet another unnecessary traumatic sex stuff backstory for a lady.
Even worse, half the whining isn't even about that Nines fanon nonsense being more popular than Markus: it's about how Markus/Connor would be better than Hank/Connor because old people are ew.
Sorry, children, a lot of people are here to thirst for Clancy Brown and because they'll turn up for any Caves of Steel ripoff. Other Connor ships were never in the running.
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