Here we go. Forgive me if there’s typos or anything, because I wrote this on my phone, it’s nearly 2am, and I’ve been fighting a headache for hours. Let me know if there’s anything I need to fix and I’ll whip out my laptop tomorrow to fix it up!
Your eyes were closed to the damp, dark night, and with each breath that brought the cool air into your lungs, you felt more and more at peace. The midsummer sun had lowered itself behind the tree line ages ago, leaving no sign of its previous appearance in the sky, and it brought with it a feeling of deliverance, so to speak.
All morning, Gladio had insisted, or rather pleaded with puppy eyes, upon exploring the expanse of wilderness surrounding the cabin, so all afternoon the two of you were left sweltering under the burning sun while mapping out the countless trails in the valley. You could still smell the sweat lingering on your burned skin. Your nose wrinkled at this. A shower sounded welcoming, but it seemed that wouldn’t happen anytime soon because either there was a blockage from not being used in quite a while or something with the whole set up was entirely broken.
Currently, Gladio labored away in the bathroom, tinkering with whatever tools he found in the cabinets to see if he could get the water running properly. He promised that he could at least do that for his princess, although he couldn’t promise that the water would be hot.
Opening your eyes, you sighed and let your fingers trail over the rough wood stairs you sat on. Being clean was nice, but not necessary at the moment. The two of you were both rather sweaty and disgusting from your adventures, so you might as well be disgusting together.
But, he insisted.
A smile crept onto your lips as you traced overtop the little patterns in the wood and gazed out at the fireflies that had emerged from the tree line. Gladio would honestly drop anything for you, and you adored that about him. His undying love and loyalty. But, damn it, you wished he would take some time for himself and join you out on the deck. The scenery was gorgeous, almost too much so for words to do it any justice. Beyond the stairs was a wide gravel path that curved its way through the forest and back to the main road miles away, and the Regalia sat parked off to the side. A small meadow of tall grasses and summer wild flowers populated the opposite side of the drive, and gradually sloped gently to the sandy bank of a slow-moving creek.
Suddenly, that seemed like a much better option than listening to the occasional curses coming from within the cabin, though Gladio had been quiet for quite some time now. Smirking slightly, you admitted to yourself that practicality wasn’t the only reason bathing in the creek with Gladio was such an excellent idea.
It didn’t matter how long the two of you had been a couple; The thought of him stripped of his clothes beneath the night sky caused your cheeks to burn.
“God damn it,” You hissed to yourself, suddenly even more impatient that before. “Hurry up Gladio.”
Ten minutes passed, or maybe more? Your shoulder rested against the deck railing, and with each passing moment creeping further into the night, you grew weary of waiting. While the sun had vanished, the humidity in the air still left you feeling particularly sticky, and that can only be tolerable for so long before it expand dreadfully miserable.
Suddenly, a huge crash from within the cabin jolted you from your sluggishness, almost causing you to crack your head directly off of the wooden beam. It sounded as if dozens and dozens of metal tools had just clattered to the floor individually. Silence followed.
Then, “FUCK.” Gladio swore as another violent crash sounded, but this time caused directly by him chucking the tools back into a cabinet.
Immediately, you snorted and buried your face in your hands. Oh my god, Gladio. To hear him lose his composure over a freaking shower was hilarious. His footsteps grew louder, coming towards the door, and you tried to stifle your laughter before he opened it and made a scene for laughing at him, but you couldn’t hide the ridiculously guilty smile on your face. Honestly, you looked a bit like Prompto after he made an awful pun and was trying not to laugh at himself.
Wordlessly, Gladio sat down beside you, shirtless, barefooted, and covered in more sweat than during your hike earlier. You’d be drooling over him if not for the laughter you were trying to contain. When he continued to say nothing, you teased him, “Sounds like you were having fun.”
His dark eyes turned to you wistfully. “Amicitia’s are not meant to be plumbers. I would rather take on the Archaeon himself than do that again.”
You knew Gladio wasn’t as riled up over it as he seemed, but he was definitely disappointed that he couldn’t get it working for you. Playfully, you punched his thigh and drawled, “Oh, come on, a shower or the Archaeon? That’s a pretty bold claim, or that’s one tough fucking shower.”
Finally, his face broke into a grin. “It’s one helluva shower. Don’t know how long it’s been since someone used it,” Then, it softened to reveal his disappointment. “But it doesn’t look like we’ll be using it. Sorry, princess.”
Gently, you rested your palm on his leg and rubbed little circles with your thumb. “That’s alright, you did your best.” You paused, biting your lip as you turned to face him. One hand rested upon his tattooed shoulder while the other laid on his chest. “I have a better idea anyway.”
A smirk formed from your lips as Gladio raised an eyebrow inquisitively. His arms enveloped your waist, pulling you closer against his warm skin, but you quickly smacked his hands away. “Someone’s feisty,” The timbre of his voice lowered; he leaned closer, his lips barely brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Do I have to teach you how to behave?”
You almost whined in response. Almost. You fought to ignore the way your body so quickly began to ache for him, and instead trailed your fingertips down his chest. Down, down, with feathery touches across his abdomen. Gladio’s skin shivered beneath your touch. Your fingers danced along the waistband of his pants, daring to go closer, but not committing to it. Mimicking him, you grinned, “Do I have to teach you how to behave?”
His lips parted to reply, but he inhaled sharply at the feeling of your hand suddenly grabbing him through his pants.
In a flash, you wiggled out of his embrace and darted down the stairs, giggling mischievously at the star struck expression he wore. Gladio blinked. “What the hell??”
You stood, a smiling figure illuminated by the light seeping from the cabin windows, and curled your finger at him, “Come here, big boy.” You pulled your shirt from over your head, and before your hands had even moved to unbutton your shorts, Gladio had nearly sprung up from the stairs. He moved swiftly, discarding his pants faster than you could remove your own.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it now!” His arms swept beneath your legs, picking you off the ground and slinging you over his shoulder. He started for the water, and you began to squeal.
He was going to throw you in, the motherfucker.
You had wanted to go in the water, but not like this, oh HELL no. His feet touched the water and sloshed as he walked further out. You pounded your fists on his back to no avail. “No, no, no, no, GLADIO NO-”
“In you go!” He laughed loud and heartily as he dumped you over his shoulders, plunging deep beneath the cool water for only a few moments.
You wished you had breached the surface like one of those graceful models from those beach photo shoots, but frankly, you looked more like something vomited up from the bottom of the ocean. The water pasted your hair to your face, and it stuck in your mouth and in all the places it didn’t belong.
God damn, was Gladio having a good time cackling at you. His hand was over his stomach, head tilted back, laughing at your pitiful appearance just floating in the creek like some resident monster. “Listen, Gladdy? Get in here and fight me. It’s WAR now.” You threatened while trying to slick your hair back so you could see.
“I’ll come in, but I’m not fighting you.” He sauntered forward, deeper into the water where you hovered with a pouty expression. As soon as he was within reach, you splashed water up his entire front. Gladio extended his arms as an invitation, “Make love, not war?”
You could play this out all night. Dramatically, you flipped your messy hair back across your eyes, stuck out your leg and put your foot on his chest to stop his advances. “None shall pass unless a champion comes to slay the great-”
Halfway through your monologue, Gladio chuckled, “Nah.” In one fluid move, he grabbed your leg and tipped you over backwards beneath the water again.
He had a death wish.
When you emerged, Gladio’s arms immediately captured you and pulled you to his chest. “The legendary monster has been defeated.” Softly, his lips placed a kiss on top of your head.
Your plan didn’t go as planned. At all. “Fight me.”
He placed another kiss on your forehead when you looked up at him. “You’re ridiculous.” He joked, a wide smile tugging at his lips as you stuck your tongue out at him. “I love you.”
“You love me? That explains why you dumped me headfirst into the water.” You pursed your lips, challenging him.
Although, with the way his gaze softened, you could tell that he wouldn’t joke about his feelings for you. Those were serious. Gladio pressed his forehead to yours, eyes taking in every detail of how you looked from the curve of your jaw, to the shape of your lips, to the color of your eyes with the stars above reflected in them. “I do love you. More than anyone or anything I’ve ever known.”
Your heart faltered as it did every time he said those words. How could you have gotten so lucky? “I know you do,” You smiled softly and pressed your lips briefly against his. “I love you, too.”
He held you against him for seemingly forever, peppering kisses across your cheeks and neck, lingering there longer with his lips pressed against your pulse, and his hands might have begun to wander, but he made no move to abandon the water for the cabin or even just the shore. “Gladio,” you sighed and tugged at the edge of his the boxers he still wore. “Inside. Now.”
You felt his lips smirk against your skin. “The shower’s broken, but the bed isn’t…yet.”
your first relationship might not be perfect. your first couple relationships might not be perfect. teenagers don’t tend to have very long lasting relationships and with the added stress of being a f/f couple, it might not last very long or work out well. this doesn’t mean that you’re never going to be in a long lasting relationship with a woman, just that this one ended quickly
every girl who isn’t straight isn’t going to be the right girl for you. you might start dating a girl and then realize you’re not actually into her, or she might feel that way about you. this doesn’t mean you’ll never find a girl you really like who really likes you back, just that this wasn’t the right relationship
there might be issues in your relationship. you might have different expectations, different needs and desires, different interests. you don’t need to change yourself or pretend to be something that you’re not to make the relationship work, you’ll have other chances
given how few other lbpq girls most of us know, i know that a lot of the time it feels like your first relationship is the only chance you’ll get and that you need to make it work out. don’t force it. don’t pretend to be or feel something you aren’t/don’t for the sake of the relationship, don’t let her cross your boundaries because you’re worried she’ll break up with you and you’ll never have another chance at dating a girl if you don’t let her
this is coming from my personal experiences- the first time i dated a girl, i did everything she wanted to, ignored my own preferences, pretended to like what she liked, let her do whatever she wanted. this didn’t make the relationship last longer or be better, it just made it lopsided and unhappy. she wasn’t right for me, i wasn’t right for her, and that’s alright. just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean i’ll never date again
you’re going to get another chance. you’re going to date another girl. everything doesn’t hang upon this first relationship
Mycroft soothing his S/O who is having massive nerves on their wedding day. But still wants to keep the tradition of not seeing the bride.
“Mycroft you know you can’t see me before the wedding-you have to go away or its bad luck,” you cry from the other end of the dressing room door.
Honestly, you were happy beyond tears that the day finally arrived that you would exchange vows with Mycroft but the whole intensity of it all; Mrs. Holmes and her thinly layered threats promises, the guests, the cameras, Sherlock, the carters, the responsibility of it all was coming down on you hard.
You were getting married today. To Mycroft Holmes. Today.
At the end of the day you would be Mrs. Holmes and there’s so much that could go wrong to ruin it that you could hardly breathe. Not even your best friend and maid of honor Rachel could calm you down as you began to dry heave in your custom made wedding dress.
“______, I promise I’m not going to break tradition,” Mycroft professes from behind the thin layer of wood, “But I have to know-do you love me?”
Blinking at the stupidity of the question you instantly answer, “Yes.” If you didn’t love him you wouldn’t even be here panicking in a dress that cost more than your car. “Why?”
There’s a pause behind the door that almost gives you the urge to open it tradition be damned before Mycroft speaks again. “Then you have no reason to worry because I love you to and if you want to call off the wedding until a later date we can do that,” Mycroft suggests, “we could do a more private wedding without all the commotion. Just you, me, and your priest.”
It brings you some relief hearing that but you know that you can’t stop now once its gotten this far.
“No, no! We can’t do that,” you reply trying to shake away the nerves, “this is more than just my wedding, its yours too. Besides, I’m pretty sure if we did that your mother would kill us.”
This seems to give Mycroft a thoughtful pause (even if you can’t see him beyond the door) ,“To be fair she’d be after your blood more than mine but it is a good point.”
This causes you to go a little whiter as Rachel warningly grounds out, “Mycroft” in an effort to get color back into your face.
“The point being is that I want what’s comfortable for you _____, what can I do to make you feel at ease,” Mycroft explains. “Shall I ask our guests to strip to their undergarments or wear masks?”
The thought brings out a giggle knowing there are some guests that would take to it more than others but you feel less panicked now.
“No,” you say serenely, “Just give me five more minutes and I’ll see you at the alter but can you do one favor?”
“Promise me you’ll be there?”
“I would stand there until the end of time if you needed me to,” Mycroft confesses.
The spot on his neck that the leviathan had first cut looked to be shallow and already scabbing over, just a superficial wound. Where his head was slammed into the tv stand looked to be a little deeper but being that it had stopped bleeding, he wasn’t sure if it would need stitches or not. Maybe foregoing stitches would keep the scarring to a minimum. But then along his cheekbone, under his eye, it was all black and blue, bruising in the shape of a hand that had slapped him not once but twice and when Dean poked at it, it brought small tears to his eyes at the sharp pain.
He dropped his head, letting it hang in between his shoulders and sighed deeply, fighting through the pain that the breathing brought. How had it come to this? How had did this happen to him? He was a strong hunter, raised into the life since he was a child, cold blooded throughout and yet, standing there in front of mirror in the white light, he just looked defeated, worn down.
Probably won’t be very active on here or anywhere else for a while.
I feel like I’ve just ruined my life and absolutely deserve to feel this way. This isn’t self-loathing. It’s entirely justified if you knew why I feel this way in the first place.
I’ve actually considered abandoning, sabotaging, or destroying everything I’ve built online for the same reason. I deserve it.
Everything I loved is just making me feel sick thinking about it.
It sickens me to think that what happened happened. It’s exactly the sort of thing I’d have a nightmare about and I keep wishing that I’m going to wake up and realize it never happened. But it’s not going to happen. I’m going to have to live feeling this way from now on, and I don’t know how I’m going to manage this. I’ve cried myself to sleep tonight over what a monster I’ve become and barely slept at all. And I can’t tell anyone what happened, or exactly what I’ve considered doing is going to happen. On one hand, I would deserve it. On the other hand, Id lose absolutely everything I’ve ever remotely cared about online. Because knowing just what I’m capable of would surely kill any trust anyone ever had in me, and I don’t know if I could feel the same way about someone if they told me they did what I’ve done.